Month: December 2018

Llamas, Sloths and Gnomes

Every year, there seems to be a few particularly popular symbols or creatures and true to American form, we take that character and run with it.  We put it on everything from towels, to soaps, to cups, to garden accessories, to underwear.   This year I have seen a lot of llamas, sloths and those cute, little gnomes, in which the only thing that you can see is their adorable little ball of a nose, sticking out from under their pointy hats.  At Christmas time, these items seem to multiply, and usually with little holiday additions, like holly berries and some tinsel, to add to their charm.

I have not been immune to this craze.  I have a couple of sloth accessories, several llama trinkets and about 500 versions of the nose gnome.  I’ve loved gnomes since I was a kid and this particular version is extremely irresistible to me.

When my husband and I were first married, we became friends with a Swedish family, who came to America for a couple of years, on a work visa.  Our Swedish friends said that one of the things that struck them the most about America, was the overwhelming abundance of choices, when it came to just about anything.  They said that they even found toothpaste shopping to be stressful, due to the plethora of brands and flavors.

It’s easy to be a collector of just about anything in America.  There are so many options available.  I think that this is something that many of us take for granted.  Truthfully, some of us take this American perk, a little too far, thus the TV show,  Hoarders.  Every once in a while, I make myself watch that show, just to keep myself in check.  I don’t want my readers to watch that show someday and see me buried in a pile of llama, sloth and big-nosed gnome trinkets.  I want to still be able to get to my computer and to write.  Plus, I want to still have plenty of room for objects portraying the new “in” symbol of cuteness, every single year. 

That Was Fast

Today is my youngest son’s 18th birthday.  Out of my four children, I only have one baby who isn’t technically an adult.  I have three “adult children.”  I remember for years when older women would comment on my kids’ cuteness, I would politely ask them if they had children and they would say something like, “Yes . . . well I mean, they’re all grown up now.”  When you are in that younger mom stage of life, you never imagine that you’ll be that older mom stammering out an awkward answer to the question, “Do you have kids?”  Yet, now, I am that awkward older woman with four, mostly grown children.

I have even more compassion for that older mother now.  That older mother has seen a lot. She’s been through a lot of joys and sorrows, and hopes and fears.  She’s had experiences that she never imagined having,  raising those kids to adulthood.  She’s filled with pride, joy, amazement, relief, nostalgia and wonder.  She’s filled with hope, awe, curiosity and questions of what to do next. She thought that maybe when the kids were older, she wouldn’t feel so vulnerable, but she now has come to the wisdom that her heart is walking around on multiple sets of legs, and those legs are walking farther away, going on Life’s wild adventures, leaving her heart even more exposed than maybe it has ever been before.  

So now, when a sweet, beautiful, frazzled young mother politely asks me if I have children, I say, “Yes, I have four mostly grown-up children. And they are wonderful.  Enjoy and savor your babies.  They are your most amazing, miraculous co-creation with Life.”

Explore. Dream. Discover.

I’m heading home now from my magical weekend.  The place that I visited was on my bucket list for deeply personal and spiritual reasons.  It exceeded my expectations in all regards and has brought a sense of wholeness to that part of my being that has always yearned to experience this spot, from my family history.  

I used to hate the term “bucket list” but now I am inspired by it.  As I have gotten older and wiser, everything in my life has become more meaningful and pertinent.  Everything.  The maturity and ripeness that comes with middle age, brings everything to a more full-color appreciation and for that, I am truly grateful. 

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than the ones you did do.  So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor.  Catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore.  Dream.  Discover.” – Mark Twain

Turned On By Off

“You avoid the overcrowding of tourist locations by traveling in off-season.  That is now one of the major rules of smart travel – go when the tourists are NOT there, and even though you may have to don an extra layer of clothing, you will enjoy the sights and the experiences at the destination in the way that they were enjoyed before they became so well-known.” – Arthur Frommer

My husband and I have taken a couple of these romantic, long- weekend trips this year and we’ve ended up in major tourist areas, in their off-seasons.  I would like to pretend that this is because we are smart travelers like Arthur Frommer, but truth be told, these time periods were just the best for our family schedule.  However, we have found that the above statement is the absolute truth.  Our trips have allowed us to enjoy long conversations with locals – these conversations are rich with stories and anecdotes, history, and good tips and ideas about the best-kept secret spots, of the locale.  We haven’t had to wait in long lines for anything. We have always gotten tables at the restaurants we have wanted to try and rooms in the places that we have wanted to stay in.  We have gotten our souvenirs at amazing, discounted prices and we even have gotten access to private beaches and farms that would never have been available to us during the prime season.  The best part is that the locals actually seem to like us, because they have forgotten how annoying, brash, and demanding, the tourists can be during the height of the travel season.  We have had the space to breathe and the peace of mind that comes from this space, to really soak in and savor our adventures.

So what this tells me, is that there is another perk of aging, and that perk is the freedom to do more travel, and to do it with a little more wisdom and panache.  In writing this blog, I’m starting to come to the understanding that there really are a lot of good things that come out of being more seasoned, aged and ripe, in life.  The Second Half isn’t half bad!

It Has Arrived – Friday

“Happy Friday!  Here’s to all of us who made it through another week of faking adulthood!” – Nanea Hoffman

Happy Friday!!! Woohoo!!!! I treated last night like Friday night.  That’s why I’m a little late to the game.  Plus, I miss my mega monitor.  The people who work at our beautiful, artsy little hotel here are wonderful suck-ups.  They told me and my husband that we were are like super fun, good-looking models.  We must be at Fantasy Island –  models for Cialis commercials, maybe.  I think that is one of the good points in aging.  Younger people start thinking that making you feel good could be “their good deed for the day.”

My new favorite flavor of cookie has to be Pumpkin Spice Chocolate Snickerdoodle.  I have sucked down three of them as I write this.  New readers, Fridays are casual here at Adulting -Second Half.  We keep it light and superficial.  I list three favorite items, songs, books, etc. that make my life even more of a good life.  I encourage you to do the same in the Comments section.  Also,  check out previous Fridays for other good ideas for ways to make your life even more of a good life, too!

I’m in a wonderful, cold Christmas-y location.  It got me thinking of my three favorite Christmas carols.  Now, Christmas music can get old fast.  After a few weeks of Christmas music wafting through the air of every space you breathe in, one can start to feel a little edgy and Scrooge-y, for sure.  However, these three renditions of Christmas songs are so good, I sometimes listen to them in July, with my convertible top down.  Ugh, I bet you are thinking “Don’t Be that Guy!”.  I know.  I know.  But I’m “That Lady”, plus I’m getting old enough that young people are starting to suck up to me, so I can get away with more now.

“Oh Holy Night” Martina McBride’s rendition – If you are tired of the crass commercialism that sometimes has a way that of wafting into the season and quickly taking over, take three big breaths and listen.  My Goodness, this woman sings so beautifully!!  This rendition still gives me shivers and makes my neck hairs stand up straight and tall.  I would put this up with Whitney Houston singing the National Anthem.

“Mary’s Boy Child” – Boney M.’s rendition – If you want to feel like you are in the Caribbean for Christmas, as you are scraping ice off of your windshield, pop this tune into your ear buds.  I heard this song for the first time ago, decades ago on an obscure radio station.  It made me feel instantly happy and like I should be dancing in a coconut bra.  Back then, we didn’t have a glimmer of services like Shazam, so I called the radio station, talked to the DJ and in the end, had to order the CD from Germany.  But it was worth it.  The song is that good.

“Last Christmas” – George Michael –  When George Michael first came on to the scene, everyone fell in love with him – men, women and children.  I was a kid and my friend’s mother couldn’t stop swooning over the gorgeousness of this man.  This is the Christmas song that my kids love washing the dishes to – it really does add to the productivity of our household and nothing brings a bigger smile to my heart than hearing my kids singing along to this song and knowing that I will be walking into a clean kitchen soon after.

Okay, time to be getting back to my wonderful adventure.  May you have wonderful adventures this weekend, too, my beloved readers and friends!!

“If showing up in a robe and a tiara with a box of wine is wrong, then maybe I  don’t fully comprehend how Casual Friday actually works.” – Abby Has Issues

Letting Myself Be Lived

I’m posting this in the wee, small hours of the morning, today.  I’m headed out on an adventure this weekend.  I’ve been pining for this adventure for a while, but considering our loss of our beautiful dog, Lacey, I realize that I need this adventure more than ever.  Change of scenery is a good cure, for a home full of constant reminders of who you are missing.

I’ll be writing my blog away from home for the first time since I started writing it.  My husband bought me a new computer and this enormous, curved monitor when we both started to realize that me writing my blog was no longer a whim or a passing fancy, but more of a necessary passion of mine, here to stay.  I’m going to miss the “Big Screen”, but I fully intend to continue to blog every morning.   I’m not sure how much, or if and when, I will choose to share my stories about my adventure, but I’m definitely taking my computer along for the ride.

I love the anticipation of trips.  I read recently that if you stress too much about something before it happens, you are actually putting yourself through that stress, two times.  I like to think then, that it follows, if you are eager about heading out on an adventure, you are putting yourself through the excitement, twice!  I don’t have any expectations for this getaway other than an eager interest  in the unknown and the prospect of surprise.  I’m going somewhere that I have never been to, and that is my favorite kind of experience.

When I go on trips, I don’t have a set agenda.  I won’t be crestfallen if I don’t see certain museums or landmarks or shows.  My favorite part of exploring new areas, is the overall ambiance.  I love to observe and soak in, the atmosphere – the people, the preferences, the smells, the sounds, the shared community’s prides and loves, the food, the weather, etc. all related to the place that is new to me.  Every place has its own nuances.  Every place is like a world unto its own.  This doesn’t only apply to faraway places, in distant lands.  Every city is broken down into neighborhoods and smaller towns that are distinctly their own places, rich with culture and quirks, quite individual to that “place within a place.”  Even unique homes and families are their own corners of the world.  I’m good at letting go and letting Life explore itself, through me, when I go on outings, exploits and trips.  Maybe that is why I love adventures so much – they are the times in my life that I completely let go, and let myself Be Lived.

Santa’s Snail Mail

We are starting to get our holiday cards in the mail.  I love getting them.  I’m always shocked that other people’s kids grow up, go to college, get married . . . I understand that the growing up process is happening to my family, but it stuns me a little bit every year to see the Christmas cards with everyone else’s families doing the same thing.  Still, I love rooting through all of the catalogs and credit card offers in the mailbox, for an envelope with some familiar hand-writing and a Santa stamp.  I rip the envelopes open, like an excited 5-year-old ripping off the Christmas wrapping paper, of an anticipated, desired gift.  This is because these cards are an anticipated gift of the season.  They never disappoint.

A friend told me once that when someone sends a family picture on their holiday card, you can guarantee that the mom will look great.  Everyone else in the family can look a little “off” – not looking at the camera, smiling a little too hard, someone’s head cut off, but if the family picture is being sent, the mom of the family, is looking good in it!  It makes sense.  Most of us female heads of household are also annual Christmas card designers.  If we’re going to go to all of that time, money and effort, we might as well feel great about the finished product.

I went to the Shutterfly website where they have a webpage dedicated to what to write in your Christmas cards.   There’s a whole list of sweet, meaningful sentiments.  They also list some funny things to write.  Here are a few that made me giggle:

  • Why are Dasher and Dancer always taking coffee breaks? Because they are Santa’s star bucks. Happy Holidays!
  • When you stop believing in Santa Claus is when you start to get clothes for Christmas. Happy holidays!  (This one made me laugh because my kids were never good at “hiding their disdain” when they opened up a box of clothes.)
  • “You know that you’re getting old when Santa starts looking younger.” – Robert Paul
  • Get your fat pants ready, it’s Christmas!

I hope that you all are enjoying the delights of the season, like the cherished cards from family and friends. Please let me know in the comments section, if my friend’s hypothesis is true.  One last idea from Shutterfly:

  • “Christmas is a time when everyone wants his past forgotten and his present remembered.” -Phyllis Diller

 

 

To Thine Own Self

I think the reason why President H.W. Bush’s memorial is hitting so many of us so hard is because we are searching for a simpler sincere truth.  We are searching for common values that can resonate with all of us, from our deepest inner beings.  I don’t discuss politics with my friends.  I don’t consider myself a particularly politically-oriented person, yet so many of my friends, in all different age groups, whose political leanings I honestly could only guess at, have expressed a certain wistfulness for the days when our country seemed easier to define.  We had a unified pride in the United States, while still understanding that we had differences in opinions.  The vision and love and respect for the United States seemed to be more of an understood commonality back then, than it seems to be now.  A friend of mine who now has a grandchild, told a few of us, those of us who are mothers in our forties, that she hopes that we have raised a generation of children that will bring things back to a simpler, respectful honor.  I do, too. . . .  I do, too.

President Bush (’41) was supposedly a wonderful letter writer.  He hand wrote many, many letters.  I think that is the wonderful part of being naturally inclined to write.  I told my husband recently that one of my favorite things about this blog, is that my children and grandchildren will have my voice.  They may better understand me and thus, my influence on them, by my writings.  That is why I aim to be as authentic as I can be, when I write.  I want them to know me, at my very core, goodness and flaws.  I want them to glean understanding of me, my points of view, my interests, my cares and loves, so that they can better understand how I may have touched their lives.  I think that it is a blessing to have the need to write.  I am so grateful for this inclination.

I watched an interview with Jenna Bush Hager, in which she was introducing her new baby daughter to George and Barbara Bush, her grandparents.  Jenna asked her grandfather what words of wisdom that he thinks of, to give to the newly born babies of this world.  He thought for a moment and then he stated very firmly, “Be true to yourself.  To Thine Own Self Be True.”

The Art of Living

This was a tough weekend.  It put my emotions over the top this morning, to open the news and see the picture of Sully, President George H. W. Bush’s service dog sleeping by his casket.  RIP – President Bush, a true American patriot.  It does warm my heart to picture President Bush and Barbara Bush and their precious daughter, reunited.

Losing a pet is so tough because they are such a part of your daily routine.  Lacey loved to sleep under my desk, by my feet, while I wrote.  I loved the feel of her warm fur on my bare feet, while I was writing.  Please excuse my writing for a while until I find my footing again.  I lost a little bit of my heart and soul yesterday.  I know that you are not supposed to have favorites and as an animal lover, I have had the privilege of sharing my life with many wonderful pets over the years, but Lacey was very special to me.  She and I shared a unique bond.  She was my favorite and I am heartsick.

I was reading that grieving tends to bring up a lot of your other unresolved grief.  By middle age, unfortunately a lot of us have a fairly big pile of unresolved grief, as most of us have not perfected the skill of accepting our sadness and allowing ourselves to move through it.  Maybe each new grief should be looked at as a chance to resolve old pains and to smooth down some oozing scabs on the heart. These scabs can then be made to be less fresh and vulnerable, and turned to smoother, fainter scars.

Shakespeare said, “A light heart lives long.”  I imagine a heart with some mostly healed scars is lighter and beats easier, than a heart with oozing, gaping wounds and dark, crusty scabs.  I plan to look at this time of grieving as a chance to make my heart lighter by working through my pain, so that my unresolved wounds can turn to fainter scars and my heart can feel light again.

“All the art of living lies in the fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” – Havelock Ellis

Lacey – Love

We lost our beautiful collie today.  My heart is breaking into a million little pieces.  We got Lacey about nine and half years ago.  I had put an ad on Craigslist looking for a family dog as our Irish Water Spaniel, Little Bit, had recently passed.  Having four young children at home, I was hesitant to start at the puppy stage, so I was looking for an adult dog who could fit into the mix of a chaotic, boisterous family.  A woman on a farm contacted me, letting me know that she had a collie who needed a new home.  Her donkeys had been kicking Lacey, who had been given to her by another family and the whole situation wasn’t working out.  When I arrived at the farm, Lacey was in a rusted pen with a few chihuahuas.  She was covered in fleas and had a bare spot on her back where the donkeys had been kicking her.  She was timid and jittery.  People rush to judgment when I tell this story, but truthfully everyone on the farm, people and animals alike, seemed to live in the same conditions.  It was just their way.  Truthfully, they were kind, and they gave me Lacey, and for that, I will always be grateful.

I didn’t have any intention to keep Lacey when I took her home from the farm.  She really wasn’t what I had in mind, as our next family dog.  I just knew that I couldn’t let her stay there.  I had every intention of taking her to a Collie Rescue organization, but as I treated her and got to know her, I never got around to making that call to the rescue.  I fell in love and connected with her, within a few days.   I’ve loved her ever since.

Lacey was beautiful.  We never once walked her without people commenting on her elegance and loveliness.  She was always a little bit timid, but in times that she felt protective of us, her family, she threw her timidity right out of the window.  I never doubted that she would have taken a bullet for any of one of us.  Like all family dogs, she was there through so many milestones in our lives, the exciting ones and the painful ones.  She was that constant, gorgeous, steady being with soulful eyes and long, soft, warm fur – there for us always, during the storms and the calm.  Lacey would walk with me and my husband, forever, as long as we needed to, whenever we were working our stresses out, through walking.  We walked for miles and miles and miles, together with Lacey, throughout the years.  She loved our walks.

It feels wrong to be able to be writing this.  It feels wrong to send out the Christmas cards with her picture on it, but then it would feel wrong not to honor her either.  I guess everything just feels wrong right now.  Lacey, thank you for everything.  I love you with all of my heart.  Play and run in the green, grassy, fields, in perfect restored health.  Until we meet again, beautiful . . .