Fabulous Faces

The man has on an ascot. The Sartorialist would have a field day. This, in all fairness, cannot be billed as just a "Fabulous Face". Fabulous attire, fabulous hair, fabulous shoes, purely...fabulous. Classic perfection. And he and his attire would be perfect on this very day some what, 40-50 years later?

Arrrggghhh...fabulous.

Been There...Wanna Go There

For lack of reason, I'm blaming it on the weather. I COULD walk out of my house (with a mere 20 minutes warning to pack) and just GO. Of course the stars would all have to align and money would have to bloom on my redbud out back.

I've ridden a gondola in Venice, Italy under this bridge:

>

...so I truly can't complain. But I've never walked on the Great Wall of China:

>

...which is a dream. I've hung out in the markets of Seoul, Korea:



...and loved shopping the market Iteawon. But I long to ride the Orient Express for endless days:



...having breakfast as the Alps go by. I've given Wrigley's gum to children in the Togo, Africa bush:



...and that gives me some perspective.

This blog has evolved into...well, it's tamped my wanderlust for now.

But I'm carrying my passport on my person just in case someone says, "Wanna go to...?"

I'm SO Ready For Spring

I'm an eternal optimist. And I'm having issues staying "up". The weather is killing me. If it's not raining, it's snowing OR in the 20's Farenheit. And I'm in Mississippi for God's sake!

I was on a roll. Walking every day and doing well watching what I ate. Yes, I realize this sounds like a cop-out, but it's NOT. It's too COLD to walk. And when I don't walk, I cheat. And don't give me this "awww...you have no idea what cold really is" speech. I could care less. I have warm Southern blood. I want warmth.

I'm SO ready for Spring. I want to garden. I want green shoots coming up. Never before has everything been so brown. (Another reason my walks are curtailed. My brown world is uninspiring these days.) And it's to be in the low 20's and 30's nightly for the entire next week. Not to mention snow predictions for Thursday and Friday.


The above pictures are of the garden featured in the blockbuster "It's Complicated". Oh yeah, I'm having a couple of raised beds this year. And I want a gravel walkway between. I have a lovely yard that shows off my hard work. I've walked it's dead, brown glory several times recently determining just where to place these new beds. They will contain those gorgeous tomato stakes too. No chintzy metal ones for me this year!

Until then, I'll continue wearing coats, hats, scarves and gloves. And dreaming. And cheating. And when Spring DOES get here, I'll post pictures of my raised beds. With fancy tomato stakes. Hopefully with green shoots everywhere.

Oh, and I'd be thrilled to have Mr. Baldwin too.

Again, I'm SO ready for Spring.

Eco-Friendly? Let's Just Try.

I stopped in my tracks and stared. The shopping cart was FULL. Overflowing. With bright kelly green reusable bags. In Columbia, Mississippi. In Wal-Mart. I was blown away. And convicted.

We seem to be inundated with information as of late about being "green". I'm aware, but for the most part it goes in the left ear and out the right. It feels expensive. i.e. "buying a green car". Even switching to eco friendly cleaning products takes time, effort and money. But we CAN do small things that have a massive impact.

According to the World Watch Institute, Americans throw away 100 BILLION PLASTICS BAGS PER YEAR. And according to EarthShare members of the Environmental Defense Fund (EDF), one plastic bag can take up to 1,000 YEARS to decompose.

In the past decade, governments around the globe have underscored the need to cut plastic bag usage:
San Francisco. In 2007, San Francisco became the first U.S. city to outlaw plastic grocery bags.
New York City. In 2008, New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg took aim at plastic bags, proposing a plan that requires stores to charge six cents per plastic bag used. All designed to reduce the use of plastic bags and increase the use of their reusable counterparts.
Ireland. In March 2002, Ireland instituted a tax of 15 cents per plastic bag, which has led to more than a 90 percent reduction in overall usage.
Africa. In 2007, Africa made a bold move, initiating a continent-wide ban on plastic bags, encouraging the use of reusable bags such as those made from burlap.
China. In 2008, the Chinese government made plans to ban free plastic bags in order to cut down on litter and pollution. The ban could also save the country as much as 37 million barrels of oil, used to produce the bags.

Wow. Africa is ahead of us in this?

Retailers have taken a stand also:
Ikea. In 2007, the home furnishings retailer began charging five cents per plastic bag to reduce consumption and encourage shoppers to use reusable bags. Proceeds from the plastic bags—estimated at $7 million—will be donated to EarthShare member, American Forests.
Target. Target recently partnered with popular magazines like People, to encourage shoppers to mail in their plastic Target bags in an effort to recycle them into reusable totes. Send your bags in before November 30, 2008 and receive a free Target Retote. (Bags are also available for sale.)
Wal-Mart. In 2008, Wal-Mart partnered with the EDF to cut down plastic bag usage by one-third by 2013. Through its reuse and recycling efforts, Wal-Mart expects to eliminate more than 135 million pounds of plastic waste globally.
Whole Foods. In early 2008 the organic food retailer stopped using plastic bags, encouraging shoppers to use reusable totes.

Last weekend while in Houston I purchased my reusable shopping bags. (They range from $.99-1.99.) I have right at 1,000,000 plastic Wal-Mart bags under my kitchen sink. And yes, I do reuse them. But from now on, I'm doing the reusable tote thing. I'm simply going to put them all into one tote and take them in the store with me. I'll look really cool, AND make God smile.

I'm just sure that He likes me helping keep His lovely creation eco-friendly. 1 Corinthians says "the Earth is the Lords...". Somehow I think He's offended at plastic bags lying around on His exquisite creation for 1,000 years...I can easily help change that.

Agreed?

Tyler. My son.

It's his birthday weekend. Which means I'm in Houston. Christmas Day he knelt down in front of me, his siblings, her Mother and siblings and proposed to Jennifer Ann Cobbs, pretty as you please. My perfectly coiffed living room was the perfect setting. No dry eyes in the room. Tears of immense joy.

Tyler. MY eldest son.

This weekend we are celebrating two fold. His birthday and visiting the venues for upcoming nuptials.

We left his downtown, 17th floor loft (another whole post!) early this morning and I spotted a homeless man. The weather is a cool 33 degrees and I cringed and commented. I learned that the bench he occupied "belonged" to him. Tyler then nonchalantly mentioned that he called the paramedics last time he talked with him. His legs were extremely swollen. The man refused medical care. A couple days later Tyler called the paramedics yet again. He later learned they drained some 30-40 pounds of fluid from his legs alone. Tyler and his dear friend Alex purchased him a small butane operated heater. A lady recently brought this gentleman and his friend on the opposite side of the street (who occupies another bench) Eddie Bauer sleeping bags. I am heartened to know he's not cold. We discussed both homeless men as we drove to Tyler's office. He told me of recently having an epiphany while walking thru the church. He smelled hairspray, and somehow his chain of thought went to hairspray/homeless. He referred to how we need the smell of homeless as much as hairspray in our churches.

Tyler. My son.

Breakfast out is my big thing and we have plans. I'm penning this as he finishes his duties. Today we'll hang out, we have much on our agenda. After Jen gets off work, we have a list. I'm meeting aunts, perusing the wedding menu, visiting the venues, and sketching away! Then we'll have dinner at Cousin Rhonda's. FULL day.

But I'll be with Tyler...all day. I absorb him. I watch and listen. I hold his arm when we walk. I stare at him across the dining table. I try and memorize as much of him as I can as it will be another few weeks before I see him again.

Gotta go. We're going to breakfast. So I can stare at...

Tyler. My son.

Sheer Happiness

I have a niggling sense that someone mentioned this to me months ago, but I never watched it. I deeply laughed and then tears flowed. I simply don't doubt that this will be an eternally happy couple. Why? The fertile imaginations, the "I am happy and don't care if you think I'm nuts" attitude.

Simply put, we all need this sort of abandonment ever so often.

Go ahead. Laugh at and with them, then cry if need be.

Celebrate Summer

Should you visit me these days, I’d offer a gorgeous glass of iced peach tea. We'd sit out back under my umbrella and listen to the trickle of water in my fountains. I'd likely have some smooth jazz playing and there are bright orange day lillies blooming around my patio. The perfect time to celebrate the outdoors is now. The smell of freshly mowed grass and grilling is one of summer's pleasures.
I recently splurged on my trip to Indianapolis and bought these heavy, fat, bright green stubbed off goblets. The picture is a bit deceiving in that they are approximately 6 inches tall and almost as wide. I LOVE them. Here's the secret. (Whispering here.) Wal-Mart has Great Value brand instant peach tea. It comes in small tubs and is packaged like Crystal Light. Each tub makes 1/2 gallon. I make the tea up by the gallon and add 3 individual packets of Splenda per gallon. It is delectable! I also buy frozen peaches in a zip top bag. I serve the tea over ice and float a fat, frozen peach slice on the top. It tastes as pretty as it looks.
For a change, for a summer celebration, take dinner out of doors. Americans tend to think you have to grill to dine al fresco. Not so. Plan to take it outside one night this week. Your family or friends will love it.
I had friends and family over Friday and Saturday evening and told them we were dining at sunset. I clipped some lillies and glads, put them in short vases, rolled out the bamboo placemats, and my table was phenomenal. I grilled chicken breasts with an herb rub wrapped in thick hickory smoked bacon, made a quick cold pasta salad and some deviled eggs. Dessert was pineapple sherbert doused with slushy sparkling apple cider. I broke a biscotti in half and shoved it down in the sherbert for garnish. I SO looked like a gourmet. Hehe.
And yes, we had peach tea in my fat green goblets!
I'd love to hear from you. What are you summer pleasures?

(Note: How do you like my completely ignoring the fact I've not posted in light years? I have no excuse, though I could name 1,000. Thanks for the calls, texts and emails urging me to write. You absolutely warm my heart.)

Anna Grace Farmer...The Butterfly

(News! I have been published for the first time. Hooray! The following article was published in the February issue newsletter of New Beginnings, the Anna Grace Farmer Adoption Center in Tupelo, Mississippi.)

Simply put, she was a rare, incredibly beautiful butterfly. A minister made reference to this at the service celebrating her too-short life span of 8 months. He explained that it felt as if we all had nets and were forever trying to “catch” her. She would come close and we would shower her with love and adoration, so desperately wanting her to stay. Then she would flit away, just out of reach in the ICCU where her family would stand at her bedside and ask God for a miracle.

Anna Grace Farmer, along with twin brother Wallace, was born October 7, 2003. Her beaming parents were Tonya Wallace Farmer and Clayton Farmer of Columbia, MS. Maternal grandparents were Mr. and Mrs. Thomas L. Wallace also of Columbia, and paternal grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Clelly Farmer of Poplarville, MS.

Phones rang incessantly the day it was found out there were to be twins. Soon, a pediatric cardiologist was to give some disturbing news. While still safely ensconced in her mother’s womb, a heart defect was detected. HLHS (Hypolastic Left Heart Syndrome) would require a series of surgeries upon her arrival into this big world. Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia in Pennsylvania specialized in caring for newborns with HLHS, and her parents, along with maternal grandparents, moved to the big city for the much awaited birth of the twins. A very short 18 hours after her birth, Anna Grace went in for the first of her multiple surgeries.

As autumn approaches, a special generation of butterfly is born. The monarch, born to the “Methuselah generation” lives to be seven or eight months old and performs the incredible feat of flying from Canada or the United States to the center of Mexico, up to 2800 miles. Even on cloudy days, their mere half ounce body stays on track with an internal compass, covering some 50 miles per day. They return stateside during spring.

Though Anna Grace had an inconceivably short life span, her mark is domestically and internationally lasting. The Anna Grace Farmer New Beginnings Adoption Center in Tupelo, MS places children with a bleak future into Christ-loving homes. The New Beginnings home for unwed mothers has a direct connection for placing babies that have been saved from abortion.

On an international scale, a water well has been dug in honor of Anna Grace Farmer in Lome, Togo, West Africa at the Institut Biblique de Togo (Togo Bible Institute). This well supplies fresh water to the local village and to the bible school which carries the Word of God into eleven countries in the nether regions of Africa.

The legacy of this tiny butterfly has spread far and wide. Children are taught to love God and are raised in God-fearing homes as a direct result of her life. The plan of salvation and Jesus’ love is taught to those abroad who would never otherwise be exposed.

God has smiled on the Farmer family and they now have Gracelyn Alexis, a beautiful, rambunctious daughter who will soon be two years of age. Big brother Wallace celebrated 5 years in October. A bronze of a little girl with arms uplifted and butterflies lightly resting on her, marks the place Anna Grace was laid to rest. On any given day you will find a couple of small cars and a dinosaur in the lap of the bronze that big brother Wallace has left for her to “play” with.

The 5th year anniversary of her passing was celebrated last May with the announcement of the fresh water well to be dug in West Africa. Wallace and his Sunday School class released balloons to “heaven” for Anna Grace.

Anna Grace is proof positive that though your heart may not be perfect, through God all things are made new. And though it seems impossible, a lasting effect can be had from imperfection being made perfect through Him.

Amazing that such a small life can bring such beauty to the earth and have such a profound influence on the world, be it the half ounce butterfly or the short life of Anna Grace Farmer.

Resolutions

Get a new country stamped in my passport.
Organize my photos into albums.
Walk.
Learn to sail.
Take a trip with Tay.
Write thank you notes within 24 hours of the need.
Take a cooking class.
Remember birthdays.
Cook more.
Make cupcakes with Charleigh and Shadoe.
Learn to ballroom dance.
Change A/C filter regularly.
Devote more time to growing SOLO.
See Wicked.
Do more "sisters" time.
See Aunt Edie more often.
Ride a ferry.
Visit the Memphis Zoo.
Celebrate small wonders.
Write down 5 reasons I'm grateful. Daily.
Entertain more.
Visit Houston more often.
Spend the day in Fairhope.
Moisturize often.
Return to Horn Island.
Dig in Dirt Cheap less often.
Read the Bible more.
Organize and label linens.
Paint the pantry doors with chalkboard paint.

Needs No Introduction

Here's to the crazy ones.
The misfits. The rebels. The trouble-makers.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see things differently.
They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo.
You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them.
But the only thing you can't do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They push the human race forward.
And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius.
Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world...are the ones who do.
~Unknown

Gratitude


"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity.... It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."-Melodie Beattie

Hello all. Thank you for your patience with my absence. This "most wonderful time of the year" is my "busiest time of the year". Hopefully, I will slow this week and post. My heart has been here all along, Father time just interferes. Under the "note" icon on my blackberry is a list of "blog subjects", hence never lacking subject matter, just time.

My house smells seasonal with sweet potato pies in the oven. Out of state loved ones are here. Overwhelming feelings are consuming me. In the next couple days here's my vow:

I'm going to...

Hug everyone.
Call someone I've not spoken with recently.
Voice my love to those dear.
Say prayers for those who lost family members recently.
Take pies to friends who are hurting.
Invite my new friend with no family to dine with me Thursday.
Spend quiet time with family.
Plant my amaryllis bulbs.
Set a date to make gingerbread houses with the nieces.
Go to the nursing home and visit my aunt.

Make your Thanksgiving list. Or plagiarize mine. Just promise to be thankful in your own way.

(picture from www.cocokelley.blogspot.com)

Having Trouble Breathing...All Weekend

Friday
My weekend has been chock full of emotions, most of them precious, some overwhelming. Eventful doesn’t begin to explain it. I have 4 blogs rolling around in my head and am completely unsure of where to even begin. I think I’ll do an overview and in-depth ones can follow. Spending the night with friends, attending a heart rending funeral and falling in love all over again with extended family all in one weekend will do you in.

Friday was rushed. I seemed to be behind from the moment my toes touched the floor (in reality, from the first early ring on my cell). I was due to dinner/sleepover with dear friends in Laurel at 6 p.m. and the entire day seemed to work against me. But when I arrived, (sorry to admit it, yes I was 30 minutes late) each obstacle of the day faded away. Royal treatment tends to mellow the drama of a rough day. We dined sumptuously on spring greens with raspberry vinaigrette, garlic mashed potatoes, french style white and green beans and bacon wrapped filets. Finer hosts are rare. My friends live on a working horse “ranch”. The next morning I was introduced to 2 new babies. Diva and Cobalt took my breath away. George, their fine feathered rooster showed up after Katrina and never left. And Tom was found up a tree at around 6 weeks old. He is beautiful, kind, midnight black with a white face, now rotund and sleeps with George in the hay, together I might add. Oak Crest Farms is a zen place for me.

There is a peacefulness at watching horses graze. When let out of the barn that morning, Cobalt followed his mother across the pasture to the shade tree. Diva pranced around and returned repeatedly to the fence to be petted. Jack, their terrier followed our every footstep, well as far as he can. Jack wears a collar where an invisible fence keeps him in. The batteries are now run down but he simply will not cross the line. How well he remembers the first time. I’m told you would have thought he’d been shot he howled so loudly.

Thank you Ben and Ron for your true hospitality. Of the 5 bosom friends I’m told I’ll have over the course of my life, you are part of that lump.

Saturday
In the “most beautiful days of the year”, this day ranked extremely high. Crisp, clear and sunny are just a smidgen of adjectives that describe. My drive to the coast was soothing. Sunroof opened, James Taylor’s recent Christmas album blared.

Actually, I was headed to work. My cousin David has a new house and asked for help placing new artwork. He booked the day with me with no way of knowing I’d have to be there that very weekend. His new place is 3 blocks from the beach, definitely a perfect bicycle jaunt. Our plans included making his home great, then dinner.

His bungalow is long and narrow, almost in shotgun style. There is a deck running the entire length beach side with mood lighting on the posts. That makes for perfect entertaining. David is a collector of old, fine things. And it’s easy placing great stuff. There is a sailboat that is 4 ft. or more in height. Propped on the mantle in the same room is the captain’s helm from a bygone ship. The dining area, not a formal dining room, has a grand collection of wines and 2 sassy redheads in oil paintings. We worked for several hours and smiling was entirely easy around dusk. It really all came together wonderfully, and I must say the transformation was startling.

The fact that I have lodging that close to the beach is thrilling. And I’m taking my bicycle. Yes, the one with the basket on the front. The place of my birth is less than a mile from his home and I feel a deep seated connection to this city.

Our day ended with great conversation and seafood. A young lady that grew up beside me, and is also David’s cousin, is his backdoor neighbor. Marissa and her husband Zach joined us for dinner. Bonefish, a new fine dining establishment, was the perfect setting. Less than an hour into our conversation, Zach and I discovered a commonality. He’s a contractor and he began telling me of some unusual work he’d been commissioned to do by a client. The phrase “it’s a small world” doesn’t come close to this. The people he’s working for are dear friends of mine from long ago. I worked for them for years and one of the ladies graduated with me. Needless to say, conversation flowed freely for some time.

Hostessing is an art. The book “Home” by Pottery Barn has an entire section on “guests” if inspiration is needed. I spent a relaxing late evening with yet another cousin, Anita, David’s sister. With candles burning, and a large bowl of popcorn, we caught up on Grey’s. Her daughter graciously gave up her bed for me and it’s truly the little things that count. The bath was outfitted nicely and obviously waiting on a guest. Anita waited on me hand and foot though I protested. She has a lovely home and is the most unselfish person I know. She is another blog entirely.

I’m not sure I even turned over during the night. I went to sleep with the knowledge I would dine at my favorite breakfast haunt in Ocean Springs. How much more can you ask for as a guest?

Robert Heyward King by "little james"
Sunday
Purposely, I’ve not alluded to my reason for needing to be on the coast. A grand, great uncle passed and the funeral was at 2 p.m. When I walked in the door, my breath literally caught in my throat. There was an oil on canvas displayed of Robert Heyward King a.k.a. “Uncle Bobby”. A rendering of a face has never been so moving nor so perfect. It’s human nature to study a portrait and in my humble way, I usually have thoughts of which eyebrow would be lowered or if the nose is a bit off kilter. I could hear Uncle Bobby speaking as I looked at this oil. His spirit is definitely alive in the portrait. I began to inquire immediately. His grandson, “Little James” as this grown man is known, was the artist. I’m proud to announce he is also my cousin. (I know, I know, I have more cousins that Carter has liver pills.) Uncle Bobby owned a construction business for untold years, as well as worked for several prominent companies. He was an instructor at Jackson County Junior College and also Biloxi High School. Oh how he loved to tease. Every picture my mind conjures up is of him holding a coffee cup with an ever present twinkle in his eyes.

Reconnecting with family is such a precious thing. I’m not fond of the reason, death is always emotional, but all the hugs and kisses are absolutely soothing to the soul. My grandmother, grandfather, Dad, Mother, aunt and uncle were all missing. My grandmother would have been collecting her a stack of the funeral programs, bumping into chairs while moving around on her ‘wheels”. Daddy would have been laughing with all the uncles, enjoying the jokes as well as telling them. And all the while Aunt Deta would have been taking pictures, documenting the occasion. Pawpaw would have sit quietly on the sidelines, ever observant. My thought processing on what my Mother would be doing is vague. It hurts to realize she’s been gone so long that I have trouble placing her in a huge family setting. I do know she would have been laughing.

I promised the aunt’s Christmas cards, as I’m always reminded to do. I conversed with long lost cousin Ernest Lee and was told a story of his worst whippin’ ever that my Mother caused. Another cousin, Candy (who is grand daughter to Uncle Bobby), added fuel to my blogging fire. You never know who’s reading.

My day started early at Bayview Gourmet in Ocean Springs. I left with a box full of gargantuan muffins, 2 of which did not make it home. While crossing the bridge I texted Steve (yet another sibling to David and Anita) to say seeing the water made me think of him. He insisted I come over and I left there with a cutting of bamboo and an avocado tree. I love visits that produce presents! (Read previous blog “I’m Officially A Redneck” for more on this cousin.) And yes, David, Steve and Anita have one more sibling, Amanda who is on “adventure” living in North Carolina. I also visited her last month. I have an affinity with this band of cousins wouldn’t ya’ say? All you other bands of cousins don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m affinitied to ya’ll too.

As weekends go, this one was fulfilling. Vacillating from sheer joy to deep sadness, these 3 days were the epitome of that famous quote. “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

I definitely had trouble breathing for the last 3 days.

Email Subscription

I am learning new things each and every day. I have added an email subscription box top right in my blogspace. You may now be alerted by email that a new blog is available for you to peruse.

Go ahead, make my day.=)

Firsts

I enjoy adventure and firsts are usually exciting. Today my first was disconcerting and deeply sad. I attended a double funeral, that of father and son. On a happy mission last Saturday, they were en route to pick up a bicycle for a birthday celebration of granddaughter/daughter respectively. A tragic accident claimed the lives of both.

How does the human psyche cope with such loss? How does a mother continue on with the celebration of birth when consumed with grief? The happy mission now holds untold grief and sorrow. I wonder if the child will ever want a bicycle again. I hope the great joys I experienced as a child on a bike can still be had by this little girl.

Life is short. Life is unfair. Life can cause blows we never recover from. Tell those around you of your love for them. And tell those who are not so close. Take time today to let someone know they mean the world to you. Explain that your world is a brighter, happier, more fulfilled because they are in it, that you simply can't imagine life without them.

Add the names Nona, Stacey, and Laney to your prayers. Strength from a higher power will be required over the course of the coming days.

And pray that Laney can be a happy little girl on her bicycle.

The First Timer In Ballroom Dancing 101

(penned August 19, 2008)
Thursday evening the first pangs began. I fought it off, busying myself with work and family. I felt the twinges again early yesterday upon learning of my friends passing. Then the message was “Learn To Dance In The Rain” and I fought off the cloud. I told Rev. G. R. Travis at the close of service that I was going to plagiarize him and he laughed. I was awed by each story he relayed. He explained that life can’t be all sunshine or we’d have no leaves on the trees, no buds nor fruit bearing. Life would be all desert and wasteland. It has to storm, things have to get wet for growth. “Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain” was the quote he took his subject from. His story about much revered President Ronald Reagan stuck with me. As a young man he dropped out of college and took a job with a construction company. The first day of work, it stormed so badly, all employees were dismissed before the day even got started. His girlfriend who was starting college that same day asked him to go hang out with her at the school since he was rained out. He made contact with a Coach who convinced him to start classes that very day. It’s said that President Reagan always wondered what twists and turns his life would have taken had he begun construction work instead of college classes. The storm was the deciding factor in the path his life took. Rainbows only come after the storm. While typing this very moment, even though I heard him clearly yesterday, I’m tempted to type yada-yada-yada. But I will resist.

Today has been a storm. A text message early in the day caused stress. I desperately tried to continue my friendship with the mailman, though he brought news I simply did not need. I ate a biscuit and gravy for breakfast, something I have avoided for some time now. I stopped at a clients to pick up a box and when the sweet gentleman loading it for me opened the back door of my vehicle, out tumbled the glass top to my favorite drink dispenser. Yes, it crashed and splintered into many pieces. At that point, I really wanted to ask the big man above why He’d let that get broken! After all, I was hauling the thing after using it for a church function.

I have to attend a wake this evening, then the funeral tomorrow and my heart has a large counter weight on it, as if it were attached to a crane. Memories of crushing grief in recent years feel fresh and new. The loss of my uncle, father, then aunt to the same dreaded disease haunts me. I dread looking into the eyes of my friend who tomorrow buries her Mother. An even deeper dread consumes me when I think of putting on an encouraging face. I, the one never at a loss for words, feel speechless. I lost both grandparents in the last year, and my friend also lost her grandmother recently. My friends Mother was pure sunshine. Being an only child, she will experience loneliness I can’t fathom. I had siblings during my time of loss. Yet another fact to lift my spirits. How do we as humans cope with such deep seated loss? How do we as friends express our yearning to make things easier for them all the while knowing it’s a rugged personal path she must walk?

I have purposely reflected over my life for the last couple hours. I’m blessed beyond measure. Yet, no matter how many times I say it, no matter my thought processes on the good, a dark cloud shadows me.

It’s time to dress for the wake. I’ll wear a favorite black ensemble, even put on the red patent heels for my psyche. But sometimes, you just have to bear it. No amount of cajoling, soaking in a bubble bath, pinning a big flower in my hair, sipping from a crystal stem, perusing a new hardcover on design, not even airline tickets to Sydney in my hand will cure this ill. (I’d sure like to try the airline ticket thing just to confirm it wasn’t a cure though.)

I’ve made a decision. I shall dance. I am going to twirl, pick up my feet, and make ballerina motions with my arms. I’m sure I’ll look like a first timer in Ballroom Dancing 101. Picking up my feet will be painful, but must be done. My movements will be disjointed and clearly not smooth. It will be obvious that it’s not something I want to do nor an enjoyment for this moment in time. It won’t be beautiful or right when I initially begin. The water on my face may not be all moisture from the storm, but at least I will be dancing.

I’m going to learn to dance in the rain.

Elvis Had The Right Idea

(penned July 29,2008)
I really wish we all weren’t so vocal. Or judgmental. And yes, I am also preaching to myself...and the choir. How many times have you had your head lopped off for an innocent statement? Or lopped someone else’s head off for their words? Or loudly voiced what you considered to be an “opinion” when in all reality it was sheer judgment?

Though this blog has negative connotations, it must be said.

I remember taking a long slug on a Diet Coke, gasping for breath, and saying “Dear Lord, that Diet Coke is SO good.” The person next to me indignantly replied, “I HATE Diet Coke!” Was that necessary? We are quick to voice an opinion on things we abhor. Being an extrovert, I tend to give excessive information on any given subject., I’m well aware too much, too often is my habit. If a city I’ve visited is mentioned, I’m thrilled to tell you where I dined, landmarks I saw, and details on my hotel. On the flip side, I am often asked for guidance. It amazes me how quickly someone else pipes in, “That city stinks!” or “That is THE worst place to eat.” Restaurants elicit the boldest comments. People surely voice opinions when concerning food.

Last week opened my eyes. My view was eternally altered. Have you ever been guilty of judging and simply didn’t realize that was what you were doing? I recall time after time that I was the vocal one. Someone, usually a young person would attend a service after an absence. They didn’t look just like I thought they should. “What in the world? Don’t they know what they look like? They really should be more respectful.”, all “opinions” I freely voiced. Recently, someone absolutely near and dear to me walked into a service. At that point, nothing mattered. I absolutely did not care about attire nor anything else pertaining to outward appearance. My fervent prayer was that everyone would open their arms, show their love and make this person feel wanted and welcomed. I desperately hoped that no one would be as judgmental as I had been, that no noses would be turned up nor any “telling” looks be passed. Just being there, just attending a service where the presence of God could be felt, was more than I could hope for. Nothing trumped them just walking through those doors.

I promised God then and there that I would be careful to temper my opinions and try to never again judge. We must learn to not voice those negative things that swirl in our minds. We must learn kindness, goodness, thoughtfulness, and grace. We must reach out to the very one we think has nothing for us. Or to the one that returns repeatedly. I’ve never forgotten the story of Missionary Nona Freeman. She said she was like a revolving door concerning her walk with God. She was “in” and “out” so many times she lost count. She explaining that she knew it was 20 plus times she got “renewed”. Just how many souls is she responsible for in Africa? Untold numbers. Nary a doubt, the sooth sayers had much to judge. But someone believed in her. That someone gathered around her and prayed with her on that 20 something time she came for a touch. That someone had faith that no matter what, when, where, she would be saved and be something for the kingdom. Calling Nona Freeman “something for the kingdom” is a bit like calling a Rolls Royce a car.
Imprinted on my mind is the service that while going through my divorce, I was stopped in the foyer. Unsolicited advice poured forth with instructions from someone who hadn’t a clue of any details of my circumstances. I struggled to just walk through the door, and being hit head on by a well meaning busybody made it much tougher to come the next time. A dear, departed pastor’s wife who influenced me greatly had a favorite quote. “The only horse that can throw you is the one you ride the hardest.” Let’s ride a gentle horse with our words. Those things you are so adamantly inflexible over, WILL come back to you. Don’t voice your criticisms. Only allow good things to pass your lips.

The people on United Flight 93 made their last phone calls from a plane they knew was going down. I’ve read articles concerning the content of those calls and there were no harsh words, only loving tributes. Family members were told how much they were loved. Those soon to perish explained how precious their time together had been. Only sincere words of love and honor were exchanged.

Elvis had the right idea, when he sang “I did it my way.” Let’s do it our way, but let’s learn to let “our way” be the right way. Let’s determine to do it the kind way. Instead of retorting, “My God, this pie tastes awful!”, push it aside with a much softer “that’s not my favorite” if you must be vocal. When a family is in crisis, let nothing but good be spoken. Avoid voicing “he’ll pay” or “she got what’s coming to her”. If the subject is too hurtful and uncomfortable, offer hugs and send a card of encouragement. A simple “I love you and am praying daily for you” goes a long way. Refrain from giving advice unless prompted.

Here’s your chance to be an American Icon. Go on, do it “your way” Just promise that “your way” is the kind and gentle one.

“It’s 9 o’clock and All Is Wellllll....”

(penned August 6, 2008)
There are days when all goes right. Ever awakened to a bird chirping outside your window? You look out to see if you can get a glimpse of it and there are blooms on the crepe myrtles touching your window. The day simply feels good.

When my alarm goes off, I reach for my cell phone. It doubles as my alarm and calendar, well, triples if you mention it’s also my link to the world, personal and business. I turn off the alarm and immediately roll the clickwheel on my Blackberry to my daily calendar. It was chock full. This day called for my favorite red patent leather pumps. ( I honestly dressed in clothing so the shoes would work.=) I met a friend for breakfast in Hattiesburg. Then it was on to a client’s home for a couple of hours and through a drive-thru to grab lunch. (Admittedly, I’d rather have a sit down lunch, but this day dictated differently.) I stopped to pick up some flooring samples and barely made it on time to my next appointment, a design presentation. And yes, that went well.

Within minutes of pulling into my drive around 4:30, my youngest son stopped by. He offered to work in my yard for awhile. He mowed the lawn while I picked up limbs, pine cones and anything else that didn’t belong. I cleaned out my wall fountain at my back entrance and filled it with fresh water. We stayed outside for a couple hours, sweated down, but accomplished much.

He had friends waiting so I finished up. I absolutely love the smell of freshly cut grass and the look of a clean drive and walk. For years, one of my favorite things about summer is finishing up in the yard, then going out. My kids were not fond of me when I made, no forced them to help in the yard. But my youngest, the one here today, has a bit of my green thumb. He has the same gene I do when it comes to yard work.

I went in, showered, dressed and met another friend for dinner. I even had red meat, which is a treat. I usually avoid it, but allow myself once a month. I returned to a manicured lawn and my landscape lighting made my guts smile. I then began my nightly ritual. I turn on the pair of mercury glass lamps in my front window, the curio in the dining room which houses trinkets from every trip I’ve ever made along with my chandelier, the can lighting in the living room, and dim them all to a perfect glow. I light my “bird of paradise” candle in the kitchen and turn on my ipod hi-fi to the “jazz” genre. With each action, I feel myself relax.

I used to think that people were “set in their ways” when they did repetitive things. I have come to realize, it’s nothing to do with age, it’s wisdom. It’s knowing what makes your guts smile, knowing what actions calm you and what makes “all feel well”. My nest is quite settled, though parts are in an uproar for now. In a previous blog, I expounded on the perils of the empty nest. Here I am months later admitting I like things in their place, and that only happens when the nest is empty. My nest is not empty for now but she’ll be leaving soon and I’ll then crave a few messes here and there.

It’s a bit after 9, my candles are lit and the music is smooth. I have my favorite citrus drink in a beautiful stem with frozen grapes afloat. (A tip: keep your grapes in the freezer. The pulp doesn’t freeze solid but they make exquisite ice. They are also a wonderful cool snack on a hot day. This I learned while lounging at the pool at Caesar’s Palace. LOL.) My yard is fresh and the landscape lights catch my eye each time I pass my picture window. There is a sereneness about things tonight.

In the Disney movie “Robin Hood”, the Sheriff of Nottingham is a character who mans the jail. Every hour on the hour he wails in this extremely drawn out, high pitched voice “It’s 9 o’clock, and all is welllllll...”

There will be days in the future that have no semblance of this calm. Tay will move hours away, yet again, and I’ll wish for my “sheet heater”. The overwhelming urge to sit with Tyler will resurface, and I’ll crave. This Friday school starts and for the first time in some 20 years, the first day of school will not be celebrated with one of my children. Tomorrow is a milestone that had life taken different turns, I’d be celebrating a silver anniversary. Instead, I shall celebrate a blessed, full life and purchase myself something silver.

For now, I will soak up this calm and file it away for a rainy day. I will remember when I said “It’s 9 o’clock and all is welllll.....”

Enrich Your Life

(penned June 21, 2008)
I hope to accomplish 2 things in this blog. I want to introduce ways to enrich your life on a literal and spiritual plane. As blessed, excessive Americans, we tend to go through life without being grateful nor giving back, and in the same respect, we don’t treat ourselves as kindly we should.

In the literal sense, I’m always amazed at the way people live. I admit that my “eye” for design is very aware of surroundings when in someone’s personal space. I am an interior designer by trade. I love my work and am extremely good at it. (I can see Tay rolling her eyes and saying “Mother, don’t say that!”.) I have clients ranging from the fabulously wealthy to mobile home owners. And most do not live up to their “enriched life” potential. I am not referring to spending exorbitant amounts of money nor having little. I’m referring to making your space comfortable and a place you love returning to day after day.

Lie down on your bed and look around. Do you have a bedside table in easy reach? Is there a lamp with good reading light? (3 way bulbs are superb, 1 click-mood lighting, 3 clicks-perfect reading.) If needed, are your glasses there? Do you have a coaster with a favorite theme? A notepad and pen for when you awake with an epiphany that you’ll never remember come morning? Or to jot down something you absolutely cannot forget that will wake you with worry? (Write it down and you’ll sleep better.) Is your alarm clock from the 70’s? Is there a frame with those who mean most to you there? I suggest only things that are beautiful or required be placed at your bedside. Make the things your eyes light upon first be your favorites.

My bedside consists of an exquisite lamp, a creamer full of sharpened pencils (I have an ongoing love affair with pencils, mechanical or No. 2’s), notecards for thank you notes (Jackie O sent thank you’s within 24 hours without fail), a sleek alarm/radio that also holds my ipod, a picture of me and my brood in a jeweled frame featuring a peacock, eye drops for contacts, a small stack of books, a favorite smelling candle, a carafe of water with a small drinking glass that serves as the lid, my remote, and a coaster from Italy. Anything else I need is in a basket just under the edge of the bed. All this is within reach. A much loved oil painting with an art light hangs above my bed. (When I remodeled I had a light switch installed beside my bed that turns off my lamps and art light with one flip of the switch. If this is not feasible for you, just put the switches within reach without getting up. We are also slaves to our cell phones. Many of us are now reached by cell so plug yours in at your bedside daily.)

You should be able to lie down for some quiet time before sleeping to read and when you fully relax, flip off the light and snuggle in. I can hear it now. “I don’t have time to read”! We are geniuses at making time for whatever is most important to us. I’m not suggesting hours languishing daily reading romance novels. (Though that is a grand idea at the appropriate time.) I’m suggesting picking up your bible, a self help book, an art book, or a novel, and giving yourself 30 or so minutes of down time. Your book may hit you in the face in 10 minutes as Pastor says his does, or you may make it the full 30 minutes. Just pick up something and read allowing your body time to relax from the day. I’m aware the trend is a lovely flatscreen in your bedroom. Lying while watching TV does not excuse picking up a book. Turn off the TV and enjoy a book. It’s a grand habit to develop. Many designer and marriage counselors forbid TV’s in the bedroom. I’m not totally adverse, just do not get in the habit of falling asleep with it blaring. Always allow relaxation time before going to sleep.

I will be ridiculed by some, but it will be those who lie down tensed up, and get up even more stressed. Happiness is a choice. And we must make choices to enrich our lives. I sit up each morning and slip my feet into cushy pink terry cloth flip-flop style slippers. I turn on my ipod per mood of the day. I choose to smile. Yes, I wake up blue some days. (I’ll admit to that being rare.) But the first thing I see is a favorite pose of my children. And there is a lingering scent of my candle.

No one is going to make you enrich your life. Just choose. Make a nest for yourself and companion if it applies. Use matching lamps if space permits and put your picture on his bedside. He will thank you.=)

On to spiritual things. How do we who have been given much return the much that is required as the bible so eloquently says? Start with learning the names of those with whom you have contact with daily. I’m referring to the girl in your favorite drive-thru. The man who changes the oil in your vehicle. The aunt of your girlfriend from church. The person who cleans your place of employment. The teller at the bank. And call them by name. Just be a friend. We are creatures of habit and you as a human being return to the same places frequently. Be conscious of everyone. If you’ll think back, someone called your name, someone you had no idea knew you. It makes the heart smile. Now, you make someone’s heart smile.

Make a double pot of pasta and take it to the new mother, the elderly who is on a walker, or the one who just had surgery. Bake a cake, split it 4 ways and drop it off the cancer victim or your friend’s aunt who is in the nursing home. Ever asked someone who is housebound if you can pick up anything at Wal-Mart for them? While needing to be kind to ourselves, we must also teach ourselves to be kind to others. It doesn’t come natural to most. My sister buys a $10 gift card each time she buys groceries. She passes these on to those she finds in need. My sister-in-law takes her young daughter to visit a retired lady from her workplace. I try to include those who don’t have family for Sunday lunch. It’s the small things that count.

If you’ve read any of my blogs, you know I’m a proponent of helping Africa. Organize a group, ladies from church, a book club, your Sunday School class, and do something for the good of the world. Ask the group for names of acquaintances with cancer and their care givers and mail cards of encouragement once a month. Raffle a manicure/pedicure and buy mosquito nets for families in malaria ridden countries. Go play with kids in the cancer ward. Pay a young man to cut the widow’s grass. Set up and manage a clothes closet in your church. Go to the nursing home and ask who never gets visitors. Big gestures and small both count. I have found when I include others, when I involve a group, I feel even more fulfilled. People are inherently good. They just need a nudge same as you and I.

I have successfully written my way under conviction. I shall do something today to make this world happier. If you’ve followed my travel blogs, you’re aware I just returned from my first 3rd world country visit. Many have asked how they can help, what they can do to make a difference. I will gladly pass out the names and addresses of the missionaries we visited. They need our love and support. I’m told they can receive a shoebox with no trouble. Boxes any bigger and they have to handsomely pay the government just to pick up the box. How much joy can a shoebox bring to a 6 year old boy, his 2 year old sister, and their parents? I would imagine on a scale of 1-10, that small box if filled with goodies would peg a 10. You may also make a donation to my project with checks made out to Woodlawn Church. Fresh water wells in Africa are my soapbox.=)

Contact me at allyswann@aol.com. Go on. Make your nest comfortable. Enjoy that it makes your own heart smile. Then don’t forget, it’s “required” that we share.

Shrimp

No, I have not blogged in 2 months. Yes, I think of it often. Aren't you proud of me? I'm actually typing in my blog!

I sat at a hibachi grill last night with 2 dear friends. Neither had ever met each other and it turned out to be fun. I love introducing close friends that are kindred spirits and having them connect. Anyway, about the hibachi, I watched the little Japanese guy with atrocious English plop shrimp down on the griddle. While on the tray, they were completely unattractive. Gray, slimly, lifeless, dull. In seconds, they began to turn a beautiful shrimpy pink. (Heehe, like my pun?) He flipped them a few times, sprinkled on some spices and in no time at all they were exquisite. I sat at that grill and thought then and there that I would blog about them.

When the alarm goes off, I'm the grey and lifeless shrimp. I flip over a couple times, squirm around and begin to slowly turn "shrimpy pink". LOL. How crazy is it that I equate myself with shrimp? Give me a few minutes after seeing the light of day and I'm pink, spiced up and ready for the world. No, I am not intimating that I'm exquisite a few minutes after my feet touch the floor. I'm simply saying it's a concious decision to be a shrimp and let each day be our griddle. We all wake up a tad grey most days and it's up to you to make yourself turn pink.

Happiness is a decision.

As corny as it sounds, may each day be a griddle to the shrimp in you.

50 Things To Do Before I Die

No, that subject is in no way morbid. What is the thing you'd love to do, but it just seems as if it will never come to fruition? There are things that flit in and out of our minds and we just don't voice them or believe they are possible. It's usually some exotic isle or adventure that seems lightyears away. Take out a favorite journal or even a sheet of paper and write at the top "50 Things To Do Before I Die". This needs to be paper that you can quickly and easily locate. Numbers 1-10 will be easy. They will be things at the front of your mind. From there on, it gets harder to fill in the blanks. Therein lies the reason you need easy accessiblity to your list. When something triggers thoughts of deep desires, grab your list start jotting. My list is over 30 now, and I've successfully checked off some things I never thought I'd achieve! Sailing around the world on a sailboat seems completely out of my reach, but it's on my list. Walking on the Great Wall of China, visiting Australia, seeing the palaces of St. Petersburg, a cooking school in southern Italy, an apartment in NYC are all far beyond my reach, but never the less something to dream about. Nothing is too extreme nor simplistic. There is no rule that you have to share your list either. It may be too personal for public viewing, or you may be like me and enjoy others seeing your dreams. Whatever the case, just make the list. Those checks beside the things you were able to make happen make for a deep abiding joy and sense of well-being.