hat trick

What a curious phrase, but I find it was the first one that leapt to mind last Wednesday. Although the sport of hockey is the one I associated with the term, it apparently is also used in quite a few other sports, including marbles. The term, dating back to 1879, was originally associated with cricket, a game I've never witnessed and cannot fathom. Hockey, on the other hand, is a game I enjoy watching, no doubt ever since Paul Newman brought it onto my radar with Slap Shot in 1977. Raunchy, action-packed, and hilarious - and me, newly in the Navy, away from home and discovering THE WORLD! Several years later, while stationed in San Diego, I attended my first game in Los Angeles, with a Canuck as my guide to the finer points. I've even cheered the South Carolina Stingrays, live and in person in Charleston, several times now and try to be at the Savannah Civic Center for the college games in January. Good times! But I digress.
My "hat trick" has naught to do with sports of any kind. Rather, it's more on the order of performing an act of love for each of my three brothers. I had not intended to try to perform three kindnesses for my three brothers. The cosmos just arranged for the scenes to be set and for me to recognize the magnificent opportunities afforded me. Incredible and great serendipity.
For my eldest little brother, I agreed to represent his presence at the home of our long-lost cousin in Augusta. Not in so many words did I agree to this act. he asked what I was taking and I told him of the cake and chocolate pecans. He had been smoking turkeys all day for various friends and neighbors and he rather spontaneously made an offer of half a very large bird. And so, I accepted and transported his gift of cherry-wood-smoked turkey, even completing the cooking of it and making sure it arrived warm and fragrant.
My middle little brother was there at the smoker, too, having been dropped off by his boss to quaff a few beers and serve as a taster with the other fellows from the old neighborhood. When I went to leave, he had no ride, so I offered to take him to his place, and along the way we talked about SAD and how it affects our family. I even treated him to dinner with me and we were graced with a very sweet waitress at IHOP that evening.
As I dropped him off at his apartment, I was thinking about how great the evening had been and I noticed it wasn't yet 7:30pm. Quick as a shot, it occurred to me that I had long postponed a promise made to my youngest little brother. I had gone to visit him for his birthday and he had said that ten dollars a week would mean a lot to him. I had relayed the message to family members and my stepmom had given me the money for five weeks for his account. Several weeks had passed and I had not yet made the deposit. (Head hangs down.) So, down Chatham Parkway I went, conscious now of my need to fulfill this promise to him, my need to do a kindness for each of my brothers, my need to complete this cycle on this night. Done!
I felt that my steps had been guided that night. Thank you to my angels for helping me SHOW love to those I love. Especially at the time of Thanksgiving.

safety

I am so very thankful that my beach is not subject to the ravages of nature. This lovely blue and green planet with its swirling white streaks can be devastating at times. One of the beaches I visited this summer at Nags Head was basically a Brazil wax bit of sand in July. I can only imagine what will be left there now. The walkway from the condo will lead to...where? Open water? A few rocks? Will there even be that wooden walkway?
Then there's Virginia Beach, a fun place from a few years back. What will become of it after the 10-foot surges and the 8 inches of rain and the 60-mph winds? How much of that sugary sand will remain to be graced by beach towels and colorful chairs? How about the shops and little eateries nearby? Will they weather the storm or be wiped clean from their foundations?
I do realize that nothing lasts forever. Even the beach I visit here will exist only until the ether on which it rests disintegrates out from under it. Still, I hope that day will be very far in the future, beyond the time that I walk this plane. I want to feel free to enjoy the rolling surf here for a long time. Maybe I should come visit more often, to listen to the waves shushing over the fine grains below, to feel the warmth of the golden orb on my skin, to smell the salt tang. I wish I could be here every day, but I cannot yet. One day...

quote

"Today only happens once." Jeff McDermott

Yesterday was spent in the company of my ex-husband. He was in town to bookend his vacation week in Charleston, hoping to maximize the number of friends he could catch up with while away from Mississippi. I count myself fortunate that I was included in that list and that he, like myself, had left the schedule open for the day. Sure, we both had other events that we COULD have done, but we CHOSE to not have other people lined up for our time. Nice.
So, we met for breakfast, with an eye to following that with the 11:15am service at the church, partly so he could reconnect with friends there, partly to see the progress of the renovation. We never made it there, preferring a leisurely-paced visit together to be of more importance.
We talked mostly about the present. Sure, there was the usual catching up of the events in the lives of family and friends, but mostly the talk was about the events in our own lives in the last few months. You know, experiences in the real world with other people. That's a big issue: allowing ourselves to trust someone else with our hearts. Hell's belles, that is THE issue. No doubt that will continue to be THE issue for some time, but, given enough time, it will go back to where it belongs: just one issue to be considered among others.
I think it was remarkable that we could talk as we did. I know so many divorced couples who hold such animosity toward each other. We still love each other and we will always be a member of each other's family, but we are no longer a couple. We ARE long-time friends, having shared many adventures together in almost two decades. I do hope we will have this friendship for the rest of our lives. He is a remarkable man and I truly do hope he will let happiness find him. He deserves a much better life than he's been allowing himself to live. Even though the picture above was snapped on a whim, its meaning is serendipitous. The picture illustrates his looking toward the future (that vast ocean of possibilities and fish), away from the past (events that cannot be changed). Nice.
As he himself said, today only happens once. Enjoy it, embrace it, engage in it fully.

dingbat

Yep, that's me. The problem with burning one's candle from both ends is you eventually run out of wax and the flame goes out. I've been trying to shovel as much as I can into each and every day and my body has let me know in NO uncertain terms that said nonsense MUST stop, at least for a little while. Between the insomnia (driven mostly by my desire to catch up on my email and facebook before getting to bed) and the stuffed-full social calendar I've had for too many weeks, not including my work responsibilities... well, you get the picture.
Since Tuesday, I've had the sniffles and stuffy nose and cough from getting too cold too often and due, in large part sad to say, to my beloved Savannah Film Festival. The Trustees Theatre is SO cold (how cold is it?), it's so cold that Eskimos feel right at home. Seriously. I took two vacation days this year, Tuesday and Friday, so I could partake of the rich banquet only available at this festival. By Tuesday evening, even though I had my scarf and heavy jacket with me, I had the stuffy nose starting. Wednesday, I got up and sprayed the bed with Lysol, and have done the same for the past few days. Wednesday evening, I gave the students a "paper" lab ( gave them the data rather than have them collect it) and we were all out of there by 8pm. I took my tired self home, had chicken soup and called it an early night. Thursday, I woke up feeling more rested, but sounding awful. Progress! More chicken soup, more earlier nights.
Friday, I awoke a new woman, then spent the day at the Festival, in the Trustees and the Lucas, bouncing out every two hours to check the car or get lunch or pick up my Geekend materials. So, cold and hot and cold and hot... And of course I insisted on going to the keynote speaker address at Geekend, a last minute change/addendum to the program. Aaron Drapsin, former snowboarder of Michigan, current logo designer extraordinaire, was able to take over when the originally-scheduled speaker was delayed until Sunday. This guy happens to have worked on some incredible projects, including the logos for two ARRAS-related items: the website recovery.gov and the DOT's Transportation Investment Generating Economic Recovery program. Pretty interesting talk, sprinkled with lots of fun stories of lessons learned along the way.
Still, by the time the talk was done, so was I. I was cold and thirsty and worn OUT. So, I got home by 10:30pm or so, turned on my bed, then had some heated lemon water for about an hour. I crashed out, not even bothering to set an alarm. I would simpley get up when I got up. Yeah. I finally got up about 1:30pm today and here in the house I remain. I had several talks I had looked forward to at Geekend, but my body told me to STAY HOME AND REST. Sounds like resonable advice to me! Time for some chicken soup, maybe with rice this time instead of pasta...

Ghetto-een 2009!

Great fun at the Squirrel Mistress' pad on Friday! The party had but one stipulation: your costume could cost no more than $5. That's right, folks, just five lil' ol' dollars! And yet, we had Professor Chaos, a devilish pair, a Red Hat Witch, Darth Vader, a Viking, a Wrong Holiday, and a Wet Pile o' Leaves. Hahaha!

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