165000 for a NC adventure

Well, would
you look
at that?
Here I am,
with my BFF's
darling,
dancing daughter
following along
behind me,
and my odometer
clicks into
this reading.
165000

Where am I?
Or, rather,
where are we?
Somewhere
between the
soon-to-be-sold
house in
Hiram, GA,
and the two-bedroom
condo at
Fairway Forest,
Sapphire, NC.


Truth to tell, the BFF was the one who was to accompany me on this trip.
I had booked the stay in the mountains specifically for her benefit.
She is the mountain lover.
I am the beach girl.
However, work precludes her ability to come with me. As her ex has been so remiss in his duties as a father (has not paid child support, has not paid the mortgage, to provide shelter and sustenance for their daughter), my BFF has had to take on extra work to try to at least keep food on the table and the lights and AC working.
That meant I was going to be traveling alone, to the mountains.
Drats.
Last night, at the Mexican restaurant, she had asked if I would take Morgan instead. Morgan was between graduation from high school and being a freshman at Georgia State University.
I knew what granting that request meant.
The expenses would be on me.
Sigh.
I responded that I had already told the girl-child that she could come up there. Notice the semantics I used. Those words meant she would have a place to stay, but be responsible for her meals.
Last night, I said she could come with me.
Different meaning entirely.
The only stipulation I made was that Morgan would have to drive herself to North Carolina.
I would not be going back to Hiram, as that would add four hours, easily, to my trip home. (As it was, I had scheduled this northern adventure to end roughly 48 hours before my southern adventure would begin. Whatever was I thinking???)
The stipulation was agreed to by all.

And there we were today, on the road between Hiram and Sapphire.

You know, I try to live as Sam Johnson said: don't give up, don't look back, and always give forward. It's the best feeling in the world.
He was absolutely correct.
Life is short.
We don't always get what we want, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy what we have.
I'm looking forward to getting to know Morgan better.
And I'm going to enjoy the mountains, too.
I've never been to Sapphire, but I do like the name.
(smile)
I seriously doubt I will ever come up here again.
As I said, I'm a beach girl.
So, I will make it a point to have a good time!
Right attitude, right place, right time.
(smile)

100 days and Mother's Day

Today marked the fifteenth Mother's Day since my mother's death and the first motherless one for the Unemori family.

This day was also the 100th since Panda Ann died.


What better day could there have been for a remembrance ceremony for a mother who so loved Japanese culture?
The 100 day funeral ceremony is a Buddhist practice. It s purpose is to provide final prayers before the soul passes on to heaven or is reborn here on Earth. During the ceremony today, there were no chanting monks to beseech Buddha on behalf of the departed.
Rather, her two daughters and her one son had arranged to share bits of their mother with us. On the table above, photographs of her throughout her life were strewn, inviting a closer look at these parts of her life unknown to most of us. Her as a child, her as a young woman in love, her as a mother. What a wonderful experience!
Her now-grown children also shared her favorite foods with us.
A selection of wines, including merlot, graced the dining table.
Also present were two cheese pizzas from Panda's favorite pizzeria, a pecan pie from her favorite bakery.

Best of all, they had made copies of her two published stories.
The tales had been included in an anthology from the Savannah Writers Group, in which she had once been quite active.
The copies were on this table, along with a book for us to write our remembrances of their mother.
I had wished I could have known her better.
Today, I was allowed to do so.

let it be, let it be, whispered words of wisdom

Lately, it seems I am hearing the same message from several different sources: Let it be.
Reverend Billy wrote it in the letter I received a week or so ago. Specifically, his message was: In order for there to be new life, there must be death.
At the time, I had just become a Great-Aunt for the tenth time. His message seemed to tell me to let the dead rest and to enjoy those who are living.
Odd, but that was the message that leapt at me from the silver screen late last October. I was watching "Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil", brought back to the Lucas Theatre for a return engagement after its premiere there in 1997. The voodoo woman is admonishing the reporter: "Don't commune so much with the dead that you lose sight of the living." I felt like she was directly talking to me.
Had I been doing that? In the two weeks of October which preceded this viewing, there were two deaths of people dear to me. My outlaw-cousin David met death by his own hand; my colleague Mark had essentially done the same thing, driving while too tired. Together, they made the personal death total climb to six last year.
After the movie, I decided I needed to look at the personal births total, to see how much new life family and friends had given to me. THREE!!!! And two more babies would be born in early 2014!!!
As it turned out, the little boy decided to arrive in December as a Christmas gift. The little girl came right on time last month... and was joined by the early arrival of another great-niece that I didn't even know was coming! That was pretty amazing. The coincidence of the the numbers was pretty amazing, too.
What other sources have been pushing me from the dead?
Well, I would have to look back and look around, because I know I made some notes...
Then, there's today.
I had driven to Statesboro for the official ceremony of granting a charter to the new Gamma Delta chapter of Alpha Chi Sigma. You know, that professional fraternity in which I am a Brother for Life? Well, today I was part of the Extraordinary Session of the Grand Chapter of Alpha Chi Sigma, complete with official gavel to open and close the session! Seriously!!!
Anywho, as usual, I somehow got the time wrong and ended up being two hours early. I kid you not. Fortunately, the site was right across the street from the library. Again, I kid you not.
What better free place to hang out in than a library? So, that's what I did, wandering around for a bit, admiring that model ship and that one, too... and found myself looking at two rocking chairs in a reading room. Cool beans! I would get something light to pass the time, rocking away while reading. What to read?

Well, as good fortune would have it, there was a bookshelf of paperback classics right outside the door of the room with the rocking chairs. How very convenient! And, look at that, a book of short stories! What great luck! I wasn't familiar with the author, but, after reading the book jacket, I decided to give it a shot. A quick scan of the titles in the table of contents cinched the deal.
"Ripe Figs" was the first tale I read. Being only one page in length, I thought it would let me know right away if I should get another book. Nope, this one would do just fine! Now, on to the story with the title which really caught my attention: "The Dream of An Hour". I just like the sound of it, you know?
Good choice. It actually sent a shiver down my mental spine.
Here's the set-up: a young woman is told that her husband has died in a train wreck. After bursting into sobs, she goes to her room, to sit and sob away from others and to contemplate her future.
Here's the excerpt:
... But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a mean intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.
Whoa... had I not spoken of that imposing of wills on more than one occasion with my husband? Had I not told him several times of his predisposition to subjugate my will to his? Not that he was an ogre; he assuredly was not. Partly, the fault was certainly mine, as it was easier to take care of the household myself than to try to get him to help do so - as in, to subjugate his will. Right? Such is the case with so many married (or attached) women I know.
Now that I am divorced, my will is my own. I can do, or not do, whatever I wish, whenever I wish. I can choose.
Perhaps the end of the story is what prompted this reflection. You see, she finally relents to leave her room and accompanies her sister downstairs... just as her very-much-still-alive husband comes through the front door... and she collapses from a fatal heart attack. Those present said the joy of seeing him not dead is what killed her.
Those folks didn't know that the death of her dream was the cause of her demise. The author, Kate Chopin, was perhaps pointing at her own life, widowed at a young age, with six children. Perhaps.
All I know is the end of the story came as a shock to me.
Time to keep living and to commune with the living.

16 tons, and what do you get, another day older

Ever since my housemate left for the big city, I've been a bit blue.
I've even been thinking about getting a dog, but for purely selfish reasons: so I would have a warm body to pet and cuddle and keep me company. If I were more stationary, that might still be okay.
But we all know I like to travel. Not just to out of town destinations, but all over this town and across the river and to the west and the south.
The dog would spend a lot of time alone or in a kennel.
That is no life for a dog.
I grew up with dogs, so I know.
Over the winter break from school, when I had little money and plenty of time, I also had plenty of thoughts. Thoughts of mortality, thoughts of experiences not yet had, thoughts of events important to me but not yet shared.
Hold up, a minute - what's that last thing you say? "Important events not shared"?
As some know, after my stepdad's death in fall of 2011, (my oldest brother and) I came into a little "free" money from Mama's retirement portfolio. I have already witnessed (and still see with the stepfamily) how unearned funds can pit family members against each other. I have known too many to have died this last decade, and last year in particular. With each death, the living squabble, or stop conversing, over division of the stuff left behind.
I didn't want to be part of that scene. Stuff is stuff. This time, the loss adjustment would be the use of the funds for the good of others. Not all of the money, of course. But I decided that at least 25% of the funds (roughly half of what I received, after the IRS took its share) would do to help better the world at large, rather than my tiny speck.
Some went to my fraternity, Alpha Chi Sigma. In addition to the friendships and help during my college years (in the Gamma Beta chapter), both as an undergraduate and as a graduate student, their work continues. "To strive for the advancement of chemistry as both a science and a profession." You bet I beleive in that goal! Since 2012, I have been a professional Brother for life; in return, they have used my donation to the Reserve Fund for scholarships and education programs.
Chemistry lives on!
I am also a member of the Florida State University Alumni Association for life. Again, that has been true since 2012. Why did I do so? Well, it is my grad school alma mater. Also, I have been very pleased with its projects for education, not just sports. I know the first thing many folks think about are the Seminoles football team, but there is also the circus and the opera and so many other facets to the brilliant life there on campus and open to the community at large!
I also renewed my pledge to Asbury Memorial United Methodist Church's Renovation Fund. I had first made a three-year pledge toward the refurbishment of the sanctuary. The congregation had been exposed to the beautiful original colors of the space when a SCAD team had worked on one corner of the church. Now was the time to bring back the sunlit peach and glossy white, to expand the stage, to replace the sagging pews! So, I made my pledge and kept my word. Then, when the air conditioner needed to be replaced, I looked to my new "free" money and opted to continue my pledge for an additional year. Good money, well spent. My last pledge payment was in March 2013; the church held a ceremony to burn the promissory note just a few months later. Now, everyone has the benefit of a beautiful place of serenity.
What else? Well, I started living as Fliss. Sure, I had already had a small taste of that lifestyle prior to my influx of funds after my stepdad's death. A friend was trying to encourage and engage more people in the writing and performing of short plays; he started a kickstarter fund to bring in the needed cash. It was close enough to my birthday that I could justify lending my support in a big way - and, after attending the event and gaining my reward, I was hooked.
Anyone who really knows me knows my tendency toward altruism. Kickstarter and Kiva both allow me to help strangers, and some friends, attain dreams that are just out of reach of their straining fingertips.
I really like that A few dollars from me can be of such good use.
So, I had created Fliss, but I became quite remiss about announcing the projects to others. Then, as I began receiving my rewards as a backer of these projects, I forgot that I should give feedback to the creators of these projects, to let them know how much I appreciated their hard work and their commitment.
These were all events which were important to me. But I had not yet shared them.
So, with the thought that I would not want to leave this Earth without having written about these creative projects, I have been catching up. From the 14 postings at the start, I now have 146 entries. I have had to do some research so these entries are in chronological order, as nearly as possible, as I if I had not been my usual disorganized, procrastinating self. For the most part, that has worked seamlessly, but the time lag really shows in the comments portion in the blog.
That's fine. Some of those comments truly are recent. As I have completed writing about a project, from my initial support of it on kickstarter to my receipt of the reward, I have searched out the creators online, on facebook, on LinkedIn. I have shared my blog entries with them, late though they may be... and have been met with thanks and joy! After all, these projects, like all creations brought to life, are very dear; to have someone else also find them dear is very positive and is reaffirming proof of the validity of the dreams.
The writing and reviews of my endeavors have been a positive force for me, too.
So, pardon me, but I still have work to do here...

rules for life

Written By Regina Brett, "90 years old *", of The Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio

"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written. My odometer rolled over to '91' in August (2009), so here is the column once more."

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20.. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22.. Over prepare, then go with the flow.

23.. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.

35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood.

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

39.. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

42. The best is yet to come.

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

44. Yield.

45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.


Just so you know, the woman is actually in her 50's. Somehow, somewhere along the line, somebody went to forward her list and mistakenly read her age as "90", not "50". Strange how things like that happen!
Wear your glasses, folks... I do!
Well... most of the time. :-)

1 in a 1,000,000

On the 10th of this month, I received good news in my email:
Kiva just hit the 1 MILLION lender mark! You are now officially one in a million inspiring changemakers, pioneers, and poverty fighters! We can't thank you enough for helping Kiva get to this point.
On behalf of our borrowers and all of us at Kiva, thank you -- and congratulations on being one of the first!

I joined Kiva in July of 2012 because the Nerdfighters group was having a membership drive. (I no longer recall how I stumbled upon the Nerdfighters. The important thing is this: I did.) The deal was this: an "angel" (an unnamed sponsor) would provide $25 to each new member. The new member would then "donate" this money toward a loan for a struggling business owner in some country. The business owner was then responsible for repaying this loan, with the money going back into the lender's acoount. The lender could then make anothe loan to a new business owner.
So, for no cost to me, I was able to do a good deed.
Hey, life doesn't get better than that!
Do a favor for a stranger for free?
That's easier, and faster, than giving blood. Why wouldn't someone participate?

At that time, I had also invested $25 of my own money to fund someone else's dream of a better life. On September 21, 2013, that loan was repaid in full and I again had $25 to invest. On that very same day, I selected a group in Bolivia to receive that amount from me, towards their loan.
When I did, here's the message I received from Kiva:

"Dear Faustina,
Thank you for making a Kiva Loan!
We're so excited that you've chosen to give a hand up to entrepreneurs working towards better lives.
Best wishes,
The Kiva Team
www.kiva.org
Loans that change lives"

You can change a life, too.
And you can do so the very same way I first did.
For free.
Using the money of an angel.
Just use this link.

Become 1 in the next 1,000,000.

be a GOOD cookie

Trick or treat?

Why not perform a good trick of giving life-saving, renewable blood?

In return, Keebler will provide free cookie or fruit treats.

Trick and treats!

chasing daylight

The peace Guy caught a ride into town last Friday. One of our mutual friends had gone up to his city to share a concert. She had stayed overnight with him, then visited another friend. When she returned here, she fetched him along. That gave us both a little time to visit, to catch up in person with the events of the past weeks.
On Sunday, I had returned him to his jet city. I cut short my final afternoon with ocean films to fetch him from yet another round of repairs at his rental apartment. Yet, even with a schedule in place, we ended up on the road a little later than planned.
My intention had been to return him in daylight, with no night driving.
That didn't happen.
Even with the days still having much length, the distance to traverse was easily a full three hours, plus a little extra.
Even driving at my speeds instead of his, the distance was not getting covered quickly enough to keep up with the waning of the sun.
Chasing daylight.
It's a favorite phrase of mine when I'm on the road, traveling as far as I can before night falls, hurtling toward an unseen goal hinted at on a map and road signs.
It's also a good euphemism for life, though, is it not?

life saver, one pint at a time

Today, in honor of my birthday, I gave blood.
To my surprise, it was the first time this year that I gave.
Not good.
Why?
Well, I'm a VIP LifeSaver, Silver level, for the American Red Cross. I have been for quite a few years, as the act of giving to others is part of my nature. Silver level means that I have pledged to donate one pint of whole blood at least three times annually.
That's why I was surprised that I have not given at least once before today. I generally try to give in March, then close to my birthday, than some time in the fall. The times sometimes vary, but I easily make my three pledged donations.
I'm not really sure how I fell so far behind this year. Perhaps it was the general sickliness I had this past winter. After all, you cannot give when you're ill, as the cold virus may be passed on to others - and, if they're needing your blood to save their life, they are already too damaged to fight your viruses.
So, today I made good on the first pledge.
While I was there, they had giant postcards. You know, the kind you send to others when on vacation? This was part of their "Summer of Stories" campaign. They asked that donors write on the cards to say why they donate blood.
Of course, I complied.

I give...

so someone's little girl can go to the beach and chase seagulls.

so someone's big brother will be around to help them move into their college dorm.

so someone's mother can keep hugging them at bedtime.

so someone's father will be there to teach them to drive.

I give to share the love.

Happy birthday to me!

no, i think it was a ball...and the ump says?

My car has officially earned its second strike. Last Saturday was the first strike.

Oh, no. Really? It broke down again?

You betcha. And with a real lack of imagination, it did so the same way it had before: gear shift knob just rattling around loose, not even trying to find a gear. Very aggravating.

You were out and about?

Well, no. Fortunately, I was at home. I had moved the car earlier in the driveway when I was mowing the front yard and the car had not even hinted that it had a problem. No. It waited until I was showered and ready to go... then it wouldn't. I was to meet the best-hugger friend at an art reception and had to let him know he would need a different ride home.

How terrible!

Not really. I mean, it could have been raining buckets. And he could have ended up stranded, but didn't.
And when I called my first niece for assistance, she could have been out and about.
Fortunately, she was not.

What about the tow truck?

Well, fortunately, my road assistance picked up the tab on that. I was here, so i knew where to have the car taken, so that was fortunate, too.

Excellent!

Really, it was. My first niece and her family picked me up and we went traipsing off to dine on Italian fare and had a nice meal together.
Then I came home and the librarian fetched me and we went dancing with Magic Rocks, accompanied by a cooling breeze and night view from the roof of the purple and red palms.

Ohhhh-kayyyy! That sounds like fun!

It really was! I had feared I wouldn't be able to get any dancing in, with my car having failed me again. My night's fun was rescued!

Very good. And your car?

Well, knowing the librarian had other plans today, as did my first niece, I decided to take a cue from the wave and researched bus routes. Fortunately, the 31 bus stop is just a few minutes from my front door and it would take me almost to the car shop. Nice! Even better, the trip would only take about 35 minutes, which is pretty incredible, considering how many stops are along the way.
Things were going pretty good. I only waited about ten minutes for the bus. The driver understood that it had been awhile since I rode and was patient with me, reassuring me that this bus would, indeed, take me close to my destination.
So, off we go! And the bus is making good time, too.
And I mistakenly get off about two stops early along my route, but that's only about a quarter-mile off, so I start walking.
And the rains come! Torrential downpour, with gusting winds and thunder and lightning!

Oh my God! Did you have an umbrella???

Seriously, that would NOT have helped! I managed to run up under the eaves of a nearby business and that was helpful for a bit, until the wind started blowing the rain nearly perpendicular. I noticed the side of the building looked a bit more protective, so I ran over there... and was out of the path of the downpour. Whew!
Then it was a matter of waiting it out... and waiting... and waiting. Even after the opaque downpour had slowed to a steady soft rain, it was still enough water falling that I would have been totally soaked long before I reached the car repair shop. Which would be closing in less than an hour.

So... the rain finally stopped?

No, I didn't have to wait that long. When I could tell that the worst of the storm had passed, I ventured under the front overhang again, making me visible to all driving by. So, I'm watching the raindrops hitting the parking lot puddles, watching for a sign that it was safe to hit the street again, and the street came to me!

That sounds like a cute trick.

No, really, I'm just standing there, fairly damp from earlier, and this little, faded red car pulls in and a window lowers partially, and I hear the words "do you need a ride?"

Seriously!? What the hey!

Yeah, right? But there was actually a little concern in the voice. So I looked at the young man driving and told him I was waiting for the rain to stop so I could retrieve my car. And he said he could take me there. So, I made a quick decision and let him do so.
Yeah, I know. You NEVER get into the car of a stranger. N E V E R. But I did.
Fortunately, he was a good guy. He knew the woman who owned the business I was sheltered by and he had been concerned for her sake when he saw me there.
Then he saw my bedraggled self and my butterfly bag and decided to offer help.
Seriously. I think it was my Italian butterfly bag that tipped the scale in my favor, in his eyes.
Maybe.

You must be out of your mind. You got into a stranger's car? And no one knew where you were??? You simply do NOT do that!

But I did. And fortunately, all ended well or I would not be writing this now. Right?
He wasn't a big, burly guy, so I feel sure I could have muscled my way around him. And he was alone in the car, so I wasn't concerned about getting overpowered.
He was a nice young man on his way home from work. And I think he was at least as nervous as I was when I accepted his offer and climbed into the car.
Fortunately, he took me straight to the car repair shop, which wasn't far at all, dropping me off right at the door. Very nice!
Of course, I thanked him several times.
How very fortunate I was that he came along...

How very fortunate you were that he wasn't dangerous...

Yes, yes, yes. I know. And fortunately, the guy at the shop was very understanding of my being put out with them earlier. He had the two cables there waiting for me, explaining what was wrong with them and reiterating what I had already found out: only one of the cables and the bushing had been replaced before.
I guess sometimes we hear what we want to hear. And I had not known of there being twin cables leading from my console to the transmission.
But now I do.
So I waited about fifteen minutes for the rain to slow, then I took my cables and went home. In the rain. Waiting for the car to try to strand me again. Hoping it would not.

And...?

And I arrived home just fine. As did the car.
And I put on dry clothes and tried to decide what to do with my evening. I let my first niece and the karate kid and the wave and the librarian know that I was home. Of course, I didn't tell them about my taking a ride with a stranger.
I didn't want them to fuss at me about it.
I can be a bit too trusting at times, I know.

You think?

Yes. I had thought the librarian and I would go to a new play tonight, but she had an out-of-town friend show up unexpectedly and so those plans changed. Still, I thought I would still go to the play, until my Quaker friend called. He was concerned about my car situation and was a bit upset that I had not called him for a ride! So, I'll do better about that next time...Maybe. You know how stubbornly self-reliant I can be sometimes, right?

SOME times? You do mean, MOST of the time, right?

(Grin.) Maybe. Anywho, he invited me to come to the concert of the cigarbox guitar and cigarbox bass and cigarbox ukelele, so I agreed to go.
What a great idea!
I had expected my copper friend to be there, but she ended up changing her plans.
I did see my baseball foodie friend there and met some of his buddies.
And I did dance! By myself at first, but then joined by a fellow named Jay, who was pretty good on that concrete floor. Woohoo!
And to think, I had not planned to be there at all.
How fortunate that I was!
And afterward, I had dinner with my Quaker friend and his neighbor and she insisted on paying. What a treat!
And now, I am home, and gratefull to be in for the evening.
My librarian asked if I wanted to go out with her and her group tonight, but I need a night off, I think.
Or, if not off, at least early.
G'night, all. And sweet dreams.

loss, neverending

Yesterday didn't go very well. My niece did not come by, nor did my brother who had promised to work on the house and close up the area above my sunroom. So I was home alone, going through the mound of things retrieved from my stepdad's house almost a month ago. I say "retrieved", but actually I should say "forced upon me". My two stepsisters were there trying to get the house clear so it could be shown and sold. Quite a few of Mama's things were still there, more than eleven years after her death.
I knew the teapots were there, as they greeted me on each visit to Frank and each family gathering, but not some of the other things. I had not realized there would be bits of paper bearing her handwriting in the teapots, chronicling the givers and dates when the pretty things became hers. A couple of the teapots had belonged to Grandma and could be most easily differentiated from the others by one trait: they contained matchbooks and matchboxes.
I had not realized some of Mama's clothes would still be there, including the dress in which she wed my stepdad and the dress she wore to my wedding in 1992. There was also a party dress, a gold and black fluttery evening gown for special times. I'm not sure if I recall her wearing it, but I can certainly picture her doing so.
And speaking of pictures - oh, my. Pictures in old, stained photo albums of marriages long dissolved for two of my brothers. Aging photographs of the snowy Christmas in 1989 and of a long-gone summer cook-out when the children were young and the grandkids were few. Pictures in frames, pictures in drugstore folders, pictures loose in the bag from Sipple's Mortuary.
Most of the pictures were of family members at young ages. But some pictures were of Mama. I found several in an old birthday card for Frank, a card that spoke of a pink bunny that "kept going and going", referencing an inside joke.
I found others in a going-away card from folks Mama worked with. Most of these photos were aging Polaroids of a fun time at an office party, but one caused me to burst into tears. In that one image, Mama was laughing and clearly having a great time and I realized how much I missed her laughter. How much I missed her voice. How much I missed her.
That image follwed me around all day yesterday, bringing sobs each time. I even cried myself to sleep last night and had tears with my breakfast this morning. I truly must get some of her dear possessions out of my house. They only emphasize how much I miss her.

up, up, up we go!

Tuesday and Wednesday were wonderful! All was well again, after a false start on my "stay-cation".
On Tuesday, I went to my ex-bird's for lunch. He has purchased a new nest, here in town, thanks to the Dream Maker program. He now has a NEW two-story, 3-bedroom home in a revitalized neighborhood, a home which has twice the square footage of my 60+ years old, 3-bedroom home. He didn't have to have a downpayment, he paid no closing costs, and the city gave him a $60,000 grant toward the cost of the house, so he only had to finance the balance. I've been spreading the news to anyone who would listen, including some of my nieces and nephews who are now married and in their mid to late twenties.
He had promised a barbecue chicken dinner, home cooked; instead, we dined on beef brisket from the local place around the corner from his new home. Pretty good sauce! Then he had me work for my meal! No, not really... maybe, though! We had no sooner finished eating than he had a phone call: the movers were on their way to deliver his beds for the two upper rooms and needed directions. I should have gone ahead and left while I had the chance! No, just kidding! I ended up volunteering my services to help him assemble the beds, as well as his new coffee table and two end tables for the living room. It was rather nice to do something constructive and see an end product materialize right in front of me!
With that inspiration, I headed to the bank to take care of some paperwork LONG overdue. How long, you ask? Well... since August of 2008. What??? Yeah, I know, pretty slack on my part, but, as I explained to the young man who handled the matter with me, I was a bit overwhelmed with changes at the time and this was the one thing that could be dealt with later. And so it was. And now it's DONE! My trust now has its own identification and is funded, so I can truly rest assured that all will be taken care of as I wish in the future. Whew!
I then bopped over and had my passport photo taken for my upcoming trip to Italy. Woohoo!!! By this time, it was too late to mail off the renewal, but I did so on Wednesday morning. Whew, another important task DONE! Then off to see some old friends and have lunch at one of my favorite places, Hibachi Grill. Love all those veggies, cooked on that hot griddle!
A trip to Hinesville was next on my agenda. My debit card had a close encounter with a magnet and needed to be replaced, plus that particular account also needed to find its way to my trust. Yes, I know that could have been handled online - but it was a beautiful day and I needed to feel the highway breeze on my face. And so I did. And so that was all DONE!
My taxes were all done, too. I had handled that late last week and received word that both the federal and state had been accepted by the great ethernet beings. Tuesday night I paid the federal and crossed that off my list. Next week, I'll mail the state a check for my balance due. What, no refunds?? Hey, at least I know I didn't "loan" the government money at a 0% interest rate, which is certainly what you've done if you do "receive" a refund.
So, I return from the military town and make a pit stop at the school to drop off two sets of graded tests and three sets of graded post-lab reports. Yeah!!! My request for dinner company is greeted with enthusiasm by my coppery friend and then it's over to meet her at a favorite restaurant, coupon in hand. Ah, yummy Italian food and good company at the end of a successful day!
Now, I await the arrival of a niece...

rollercoaster Monday

This has been Spring Break for me this week, and what a ride I've had! Usually, I would have bounced down to Orlando or up to Myrtle Beach or SOMEWHERE. This time I decided to stay home, especially as I have two short weekend trips coming up and then a trip overseas in a couple of months.
Monday, the first day, was a bit slow. I really didn't get much of anything done, but that was okay - I'm on break, right? But part of the reason I took it slowly and just hung out at home was to be available to "be there" for my middle brother. He had called on Sunday to let me know a friend of his had died and to ask if I could take him to the visitation and funeral service from the next day. Without hesitation, I agreed to do so and even set up the time when I would pick him up. (Long story short: he has no car or license to drive one.) Even though I had other plans for my Monday evening, plans made weeks ago, plans for this very time frame when he was needing a ride, I agreed.
My mistake. I was thinking of MY reaction to a friend's untimely death, how such news would affect ME, and I assumed HE was affected in that same way. No. In hindsight, I think he only asked because his dead friend's brother was sitting right there when he called me; he was trying to make a good appearance.
So, Monday afternoon, I called to let him know I was coming and he informed me that he was still at work, almost 90 minutes away, and didn't think he was going to be able to make it for his friend. I reassured him that the visitation was walk-in and any time before 7 PM would be fine. The important thing was to not miss the service at 7 PM. He said he would call me when he got home.
Alarm bells should have gone off right then. I should have gone ahead with my earlier plans. Instead, I subjugated my desires and cooled my jets waiting for his call. After two hours, he did call. He was home, he said, but he was tired and he didn't think he wanted to go to the service after all. Really??? I said "I thought you wanted to be there for the man's brother. I thought this guy was such a good friend to you." No, he was tired and didn't want to go through all that.
Really??? I was so very aggravated with him when I got off the phone, but i was also aggravated with ME. After all these years, I still look for him to change. He's going to be fifty years old in July. He has spent half of a century on this planet, living his life however he wants, caring little to naught about how his actions affect others. And me? I certainly know how he is and yet I changed my plans. Argh!
Still, the evening wasn't a complete wash. After sulking and being ticked off, I decided to go to a movie with a free pass from a few weeks back (the theatre had the wrong film). I called a friend who also had that same free pass to see if he might be up for a late movie - and he was! I suggested the two movies I was interested in, but let him choose. Good decision on my part as well as his! The movie was MUCH better than I had expected and quite funny! And just that easily the night was salvaged and so was my outlook.

thanks, e.e.

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

- e.e. cummings

The first verse is my signature line for my emails and has been for years. Sometimes, you may even spot me walking along and speaking the words, or almost singing them from my open car window.
Try it some time.

filling the holes

This afternoon, I had two cavities filled by the gentle hands of Dr. Julie, my new dentist. When I finally went to the dentist, after a hiatus of at least seven years (long story for another time), I was quite concerned by what might have gone wrong in the ensuing period since I last had my teeth checked. To my relief, my teeth were mostly in good shape! My gums were fine (yeah!), I had one new cavity (boo!), and I had one filling and two crowns that weren't holding up to the task of grinding food into digestible bits.
Many little X-rays were taken, even pictures. The good doctor even showed all to me, so I could see the damage. Then my teeth were cleaned and I was counseled about the upcoming schedule and cost. Yeah for dental insurance! Not that the cost to me for the work itself is free, but it's about a quarter of the uninsured price.
Today was the first of the needed repairs. Two fillings, one for a new pit, the other to replace a broken bit of silver. The numbing shots were slowly administered, so nicely done that I had none of the pain I had recalled from my last time in a dentist's chair. Alrighty then! The work itself went at a quick pace and, in under an hour, I was done and gone. "No food or drink for at least an hour," were the parting words, "and then try to drink something warm."
Better than two hours later, I'm still partly numb. Perhaps I should have forewarned her that I have a low drug threshold. You better believe that I'll inform her of that very thing when I return the first of December for the initial crown work.
Tonight, I was out for a light-hearted Philippine action flick, featuring the diminutive (shorter than a yardstick) Weng Weng, at the local coffee house. My right jaw was aching slightly, so I had a cup of decaf java to sip. Sip I did, at first, then found the actual warm cup to be of more solace than the liquid it held. Eventually I was even able to relax and enjoy the movie. Nice to have that void filled, too!

Charleston

I was granted a brush with history last night. In a rare juxtaposition of stars, both stellar and entertainment, I witnessed Gary Erwin singing with my favorite blues band, Elliott & The Untouchables. Wow! And redheaded Kola Washington, a blues guitarist from Paris (that's France, not Tennessee) borrowed one of Elliott's guitars to add her stamp to this impromptu performance. Wow!

Gary Erwin, originally from Chicago, is the organizer of the Low Country Blues Bash in Charleston. He and Kola, both fresh from a visit in France, and had come by Wet Willie's to see how things were faring, check out the crowd, and had decided to stay for Elliott's second set. As it was already midnight, the audience had thinned out, just us diehards still thirsting for blues. Plus, as I had driven up from Savannah for this fix, I wasn't about to leave before the band was done for the night. Ya know?

So, there I was groovin' and consumed by the Waters-influenced tunes of Elliott, Naz, Sonny, Jimmy, and JT. My boys from Columbia, SC. Life was GOOD. I had arrived early, gotten my Voodoo Stew cd autographed, met some cool blues-lovin' folks and was dancing with them. Then, in the second set, Elliott introduced Gary, aka Shrimp City Slim, thanking him for bringing them to this city by the sea. Another song or two later, the man and the French sensation are up on stage, sharing the spotlight - not hogging it - with my boys. Magical, that's what it was. I left there on a cloud.

Ah, yes, LIFE is good!

I feel the music in me!

I feel the music in me/ I feel the music in me/ I feel the music in ME! There's an upbeat tune and pretty much the mantra of my life. Music revives me, calms me, nurtures me, inspires me! These last few days, I've had music from varied sources feeding my brain and my soul.

Thursday, I was fortunate enough to snag a free ticket to the Savion Glover "concert," Bare Sounds. Mind you, ALL the tickets were free - incredible as that may sound and many thanks to the City of Savannah - but they were preferentially given to kids in the public school system, by lottery, as the venue was a bit small. So, on Thursday, with a list of other options in mind, I went to the Johnny Mercer Theatre about 75 minutes before showtime, hoping, hoping, hoping... and was fortunate enough to find a woman there who gave tickets not only to me, but to a couple there in line with me. Thank you, kind stranger!

The show was FABULOUS, all that I had hoped and more. Wow! Savion, the tap dancer extraordinaire, and his two proteges were incredible, seeming to float in the air, connected only by the sound of their feet to the earth. No instruments, no recorded tunes, just THEM. After two 45-minute, non-stop sets, I was absolutely energized and ready to go dancing myself!

Instead, I went out with friends to a new bar and slowed down. We sat up on the stage with Kyle, the lone guitarist, who was singing favorites from the past 50 years. Great range of songs, diverse genres, mellow voice to make it all work.

My musical odyssey continued. Friday night was the finale of the Psychotronic Film Festival and the faithful following - and even those not so - had been promised a rock-umentary to be named the night of the showing. A mystery! Those up on such things, and knowing the bent of Jim Reed's talented musical mind, were guessing what treat was in store. Me? I was there for the film, regardless of the talent showcased.

The film, an art circuit limited release, was "MC5", aka Motor City 5, among other acronyms. My fave was Much Cock 5. (Thanks, Wayne!) The band began with a fistfight between Fred and Robin... and ended about seven years later, again with a fistfight between the bassist and vocalist. Guys who just wanted to play music, who were fortunate enough to have a manager early on who knew how the system worked... and, in turn, worked the band for his own political gain. When the manager was imprisoned, the band's expansion apart accelerated, casting some more toward their growing families or others more into riding smack. The band's entity existed in the late 1960's and early 1970's and presaged the coming sounds of punk and metal of much later years.

I finished out the night with Barefoot Booyah at the Robin's Nest in Pooler. A young, modern, folk-pop duo, the band consists of a vocalist/guitarist and an innovative percussionist. To call Sammy a drummer would not do him justice - hey, the man plays FROGS, among other things. Definitely an upbeat way to end the evening and the night's musical consumption. And I may be biased, being the singer is my niece's husband, but I think they've composed some great tunes! Anyone wanna borrow the CD?

50 is the new 40?

I don't know how anyone else's brain works, but I have some knowledge of the nature of my own. My brain likes to solve puzzles: crossword, jigsaw, sudoku. It always has and I've used that feature to my advantage time and time again, especially when I was in school. When I needed to write a paper, I would simply task my brain with developing the total topic and then wait for it to let me know the time was come to write. My friends and teachers didn't seem to understand that draft-writing and outlining were simply not useful tools for me in composition and really slowed me down.

The topic at dinner last night concerned age and appearances and included the assertion that "50 is the new '40' and 40 is the new '30'." Next thing I know, I've voiced a cohesive, multi-point argument. Unbeknowst to me and unbidden by me, this very topic was a puzzle my brain had taken on some time back and out of my mouth came the theories for the veracity of that assertion. Amazing.

First and foremost, I stated, we have MUCH better nutrition these days and, for many of us, that better nutrition began when we were in the womb. Better nutrition allows our bodies to better maintain every cell, every muscle, every organ, including the skin. With better cellular maintenance internally, and better skin care externally, we look younger longer. And for a nation so consumed by the appearance of the package, that translates to older folks looking a decade younger in the eyes of the beholder and the camera.

Second, we don't work as hard physically as our forebears did. We have developed tools to make our work easier and faster. No more do we have generations of skilled craftsman building a single mansion, or church, or monstrous public display such as a pyramid. With the tools now at our disposal, those edifices can be erected in a matter of months or years, not decades. Less strain on our bodies means less wear and tear on our physical appearance, allowing us to not show our age at the once-normal pace.

Third, we have more free time on our hands. Not only do the tools we have developed make our work easier, those same tools make our work faster, allowing us to work fewer hours. More free time should translate into better rested bodies, though that is not necessarily so. Still, more leisure time again means less wear and tear on our bodies, as many of us use that leisure time to exercise and tone the vessels that hold our souls. The benefit again is reflected in a longer stance with a younger appearance.

It's taken me longer to write this than for me to have uttered these thoughts last night at dinner. Amazing. I tell my students all the time that the subconscious brain is faster than any computer, that it is the source of our "gut feelings", of our instinct about a situation or a person. The brain is the keeper of every sensory bit of data collected by our bodies, as well as the library holding every word we've ever read. And yet, we depend too often on input from others to govern our own actions and beliefs. Not that it's a bad thing to look to others for advice and to take heed of their knowledge and experience. No, but we need to have more faith in our own database and continue to add to that store of knowledge, including one-on-one with other people. We need to accept responsibility for our own actions and decisions.

Me, too.

resolution

I only made one resolution for this new year: be more sociable. I've been saying that to everyone and I think my brother put a voice to everyone's thought. This past Sunday, as the family was visiting outside a favorite restaurant, I happened to voice my resolution and my brother looked at me incredulously. His wife asked him, "what was that look for?" and his reply was, "She wants to be MORE sociable? She goes out ALL the time! She'll never be home."

Well, being sociable and going out on the town a lot are NOT the same. Going out on the town is a way of passing time, of being with others in the acquaintance category, of postponing a return to an empty abode. "Sociable" is defined as "inclined to associate with or be in the company of others." For me, to be sociable is to take an active concern in making connections with others, especially with those already known, and I have two paths to achieve that goal. First, I have realized the past few years that I have fewer presents to buy for my nieces and nephews each Christmas and each birthday, as their age advances beyond 18. My policy is to give presents up to the senior year of high school; after that, they're "adults" and it's cards only. Some kind of limit had to be constructed; after all, I have nineteen nieces and nephews, thanks to three brothers, one stepbrother, two stepsisters, two halfbrothers, and one stepsister-in-law. In addition, I have several "honorary" nieces and nephews, born to people I regard as family. I even have a great-niece and a great-nephew, with another to arrive this summer.

As it now stands, I have ten who are over the age of eighteen. One niece has just turned 26; one more niece and one nephew will follow suit in March. And I truly realized this Christmas how little I know them anymore. As they have completed high school and gone in their own directions, there are only two of them that keep in regular communication. The rest have their own lives, their own jobs, their own routines. I don't even keep any regular contact with the ones who are still in school, as their families have schedules to keep, others to see.

Truth to tell, keeping up with each other was much easier when my mother was still alive. There would be HUGE family get-togethers for Easter, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas at her and my stepdad's home, cars and kids and kinfolk spilling out into the street. After her death (Jan. 2, 2001), the family splintered off into other homes, only reuniting for Christmas. So, it's now been several years since I really had much interaction with several of my nieces and nephews, much less their parents. I miss that.

The second path to being more sociable is all internal and I will have to work at following that road on my own. This path is ALL about "inclined to associate with or be in the company of others." See that word "inclined"? That's where I truly need change. Sure, I go to a lot of events, a good number of movies, out to dinners and lunches; but I'm doing these things alone. Sometimes I prefer to be by myself, true enough. There are other times, though, that I would rather have someone with me to share the experience, but I haven't called anyone or even made any attempts to contact a friend or family member to see if they would like to join me. Why? Well, mostly I don't contact others because I get tired of hearing "no", which I tend to get because I call on the spur of the moment because I don't make plans in advance. Spontaneity is fine and dandy if one is single, but not when a person has responsibilities to others and I really don't know that many single people. Rather, I don't yet know that many single people who's idea of a good time doesn't involve a bar or alcohol, but that will change, too.

Hence, my new year's resolution for 2009 to "be more sociable." Invite family and friends to my house more often, call more often, actually get the addresses for my older nieces and nephews. Actively seek company for my ventures out and about. Participate more, visit more, laugh together MORE.