Month: June 2019

Boo

So, yesterday I stayed in one of those huge, old, rambly, Victorian historic register-type places. The minute I walked into the lobby I felt like I had entered the epitome of a haunted house. I kept waiting to step on to one of the cars of the Disney’s Haunted Mansion ride. My imagination started running rampant and my now free-roaming imagination was ravenous. So I fed it. I talked to hotel employees about “the house ghosts” which of course, there were many. I talked to one employee, the ancient elevator operator, who had worked at the hotel for 39 years, and while he was talking ghost stories, I kept questioning to myself whether perhaps, he was actually one of them.

As I sat by the pool, I lapped up all of the internet stories about the ghosts that inhabit this particular abode. There were pictures of ghost chasers sitting in the dark in trepidation, their eyes glowing green, as they waited for lights to flicker, or for glasses to mysteriously fall to the floor and break. There were tragic love stories that make ghost stories all of the more intriguing and beguiling. Several rooms in the hotel are booked way in advance of Halloween – the rooms that are known to have a particularly large amount of ghostly sightings. I giggled and glee-d over all of these fun stories as I watched families splash each other and everyone bustling all around, enjoying summer fun.

This was all fun and games during the light of day. But hadn’t I forgotten something? I am the world’s worst scared-y cat. I am as jumpy as a cricket. What the hell was I thinking feeding my mind with all of that gobbly-goop when I needed to get a good night’s sleep? In the middle of the night, I woke up, my heart pounding because I thought I heard the sounds of strange wind chimes. I started going through my memory files to see if any of the ghosts announced their presence with wind chimes. The idea that the sound was just exactly what it was, wind chimes, seemed sinister-ly impossible, in my fear-frozen mind. I started the count-down, praying for time to move quickly and to get me to the light of morning.

Today, I am headed to a more modern abode. Unless it was built on an ancient burial ground, I don’t figure it to be a ghost hunter’s paradise. One thing is for certain, I won’t be doing any research of that possibility, on the internet. I have learned my lesson and a major point of this trip is to get good rest.

Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win. - Stephen King

Getaway

I’m headed out early this morning. I am going on a short “getaway.” I was chatting with girlfriends about it, a couple of days ago. I like my destination. I haven’t been there since I was a kid, and I always like to explore new places. However, mostly, I am excited to get out of my element. I’m excited to step out of my own life and to get out of my own routine for a few days. I want to escape for a little bit. “That’s why they are called ‘getaways’,” my wise friend said.

Sometimes I feel guilty about admitting that I want to “get away” from my daily life to other people, and sometimes, I feel guilty admitting that fact, even to myself. It makes it sound like my life is bad and full of drudgery and that just isn’t the truth. All in all, I have a very fine, blessed life. In fact, many times when I am on a getaway, I find myself appreciating my life at home, all of the more. Often times, towards the end of a getaway, I start pining away for home. I see a family laughing together or someone walking their frisky dog and I want to be home with my kids and my pets.

Still, right now, I can’t wait to only have to think about what I am going to eat, at whatever time I want to eat. I like the idea of sleeping in (or not) to whatever time floats my boat, on any particular day. I like the idea of exploring shops, and museums and parks that are unfamiliar and intriguing to me, and not having to try to compromise with a large group of people with diverse interests and moods, as to where to go to next or what to do next. I like the idea of not having to stop whatever I am doing to let the dogs out, once again.

Truth be told, I need this refresher. It is good for me and it is good for my family. Sometimes a getaway is really just about getting-a-way-back-to-yourself. In that way, you have more of yourself to give, when you get back home.

Rainy Lullaby

It’s a rainy summer morning. I feel so grateful. We have needed some rain. It has been blazing hot and I have been moving around like a slug that is seared on to the ground. Rain is like everything else, not truly appreciated, until it has been absent for a while. This morning I am appreciating the rain. I am noticing its lovely steady sound, it’s pleasant, clean scent and the lovely droplets it is leaving on my thankful plants. I live in an area of the country where people come to vacation and they dread the idea of it raining when they are here. I have known that feeling, so I always feel a little bad when we get a stretch of rainy days, but this morning I don’t feel bad at all. I feel quenched. I feel saturated. I feel dewy. I feel refreshed. I feel cozy.

My husband just walked into the room, aggravated that he won’t be able to do his regular morning bike ride. My daughter is grumbling about her cancelled tennis lesson. I feel a little bad for them, but not too bad. I feel quenched. I feel saturated. I feel dewy. I feel refreshed. I feel cozy.

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. - Langston Hughes

Embrace The Suck



Happy Friday!!! Happy Favorite Things Friday!!! Dear friends and readers, thanks a million for supporting my blog! I love to wake up and to start writing and I really appreciate all of the Comments. You guys make my day!! But you can’t have a bad day on Friday, no matter what. It’s just not possible. New readers, on Fridays we keep it superficial here at Adulting- Second Half and we discuss about three products, ideas, songs, apps, etc. etc. that make life just a little more fun. Please share your favorites in the Comments section and check out all previous Friday posts for other great ideas! Without further ado . . . .

Batucada Jewelry – Just when you think that you have seen every style of jewelry known to man, you look into a store window and you see something entirely new and unique! Batucada jewelry is made of a light, rubbery material that is perfect for summer fun, sitting by the pool or sunning on the beach. It looks like a fun tattoo or a piece of stained glass sitting on your skin, whether you are wearing a necklace or a bracelet. Batucada jewelry (which is a Brazilian samba-type percussion rhythm, btw) is relatively inexpensive and beyond interesting. You will be wearing a conversation piece, for sure. The jewelry started in Paris, so make sure you that you go to their USA website, for ordering. (if you are one of my American readers)

Embrace The Suck – This is the Navy Seals’ motto. This is their cool way (because The Navy Seals are THE definition of cool) of saying “consciously decide to accept and maybe even appreciate that which is unavoidable, unpleasant and all-together scary.” I have been using this mantra with my kids as they head to their summer positions as camp counselors. That which we resist, persists. So the Seals say, stop resisting. Start embracing. It makes sense. We can’t all be Navy Seals, but we all CAN make an effort to Embrace The Suck. Go all in! Go Navy!

Darn Tough Socks Vermont – My family loves outdoor adventures. We love to hike. We have another vacation planned nearby to a huge national park this year and my husband has already purchased a box of these socks for us, as an early vacation present. Darn Tough Socks are made for all weather, they are meant to keep your feet cool in the summer and warm in the winter, they are known to stay in place, on your feet, all day and in their words, these socks are so durable that they are guaranteed for life. Darn Tough socks come in all sorts of fun colors and they do make the hiking experience that much more comfortable, in order to keep trudging along to adventures awaiting.

Oopsie-Boopsie

Today is my hair appointment day. My hair has become the coat (or hat, I guess) of many colors . . . and many textures. I’ve decided that my stylist is a genius. Every two months or so, I go to her, wanting the exact same look, yet every time I go to her, I feel like I am bringing her a different head of hair to work with. My grays are popping out like weeds these days. When I pull one out, six more arrive, the next day, in revenge. Lately I feel like my real hair is like a clearance, bargain wig. It looks like it is a mish-mash of whatever hair they had left to work with, all sewn together, trying to create a semblance of order, but failing miserably. I’m not brave enough to stop coloring, so I honestly have no idea what my natural hair looks like anymore. I haven’t seen it in years . . . . decades, actually. I’ve always loved my stylist, but the older I get, the more dependent on her, I’ve become. She is one of my lifelines. She is one of my “emergency numbers.” All of you middle-aged women understand this, I know. Tell your stylist your love him or her today. They truly are the wizards of our lifetime. They transform us into “us” at least five times a year, no matter what materials we bring them to work with and at the same time, pretend like is a piece of cake.

Ironies

After our recent renovation, my husband and I got extremely organized in our bedroom/bathroom. And, as per my annual summer request, my daughter got her bedroom/bathroom organized, as well. My son is still working on my request for bedroom neatness and organization. We can only hope.

The real kicker is, now my daughter and I, can’t find anything. I almost had a nervous breakdown looking for a designer watch my husband had purchased for me. I decided to whittle down all excess packaging, despite the fanciness of it all, so that I could get to the watch easily and it would take up less space. I mean the watch is very nice, but it’s not the Hope Diamond. I don’t want to have to spend 15 minutes opening all sorts of leather boxes and suede bags, jumping through laser mazes, and cracking codes, only to finally get to my watch and figure out that I am running 20 minutes late. I imagine if the watch had come in simpler packaging, we could have saved at least $100, but that is for a different blog. Anyway, I whittled down so much of the packaging, that I had forgotten where I put the watch. I started to worry that in my frenzied whittling, I had just pitched everything, including the watch. (Don’t worry, honey, I finally found the watch. It was in my “good” jewelry box. The watch was where it makes sense for it to be, but of course, I looked everywhere else for it, first.)

My daughter looked horrified the other morning, despite trying to keep an air of calm. She told me later that she couldn’t find important paperwork for her new volunteer position. She admitted that it took her two hours to find what she needed. “Where did you finally find it?!” I asked.

“In a folder, in the top drawer of my desk,” was her reply. “As I was looking for it, I thought to myself, I never should have cleaned up my room. I always knew where everything was, before the clean up.” Then she looked at me pointedly, clearly annoyed.

My son, her brother, hasn’t lost anything, so far, this summer. His keys are always under the gum wrappers, on the floor, in his room. Irony.

Free-form

Just some random, scattered thoughts on a newly minted summer day:

My husband and I talked to our eldest son last night. He was talking about some of the new friends he has made in his new town. He mentioned that the one man is quite chatty. I wondered if that got on my son’s nerves, but he said, “No, not at all. I find it kind of effortless and relaxing, to talk with him. I say one sentence and my friend just starts talking. It’s kind of like listening to a podcast.” We all need those chatty Cathy types when we just don’t feel like talking, don’t we? I thought that the “the podcast” quote was an interesting millennial spin on this type of situation.

Our collie is quite pushy when she wants to be pet. She has a very long, Collie nose and if you quit petting her, she nudges under your arm with her long nose, trying to get you to pet her again. It’s a trait of hers that I find endearing and annoying, in equal parts. There are times I am writing my boopuojqou uajoy qauru (collie nose nudge). She is particularly nosy when I am writing my blog. Dogs can be like little kids, they want your attention the most, when you are completely absorbed in what you are doing. They only want your full-on attention, when they don’t have it.

The other day I decided to just poke my hand into a neighborhood community library (the kind that looks like a little bird mansion) and just pull out any random book and try to read it. I ended up pulling out Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson. Ironically, about a month ago, I was perusing a vintage book store (are all book stores now starting to be considered “vintage”?!? boohoo) with my middle son, and he asked me to buy him a copy of this very same book, as he had heard that it was an excellent, must-read classic. I bought it for him and I didn’t give it much else thought. I had read it years ago. However, I don’t believe in coincidences. (My friend taught me that coincidence is God being anonymous.) When I pulled the book randomly out of the bird mansion, I decided the Universe was making a point here. I was meant to read the book again. Who Moved My Cheese? is a quick, excellent read, with the bottom line of the book being – Expect, Embrace and Move Along with Change. Change has been a pretty constant theme of my life, especially in the past year or so. I have tried not to resist changes or to be surprised by all of the changes happening in our family’s collective lives, but I could stand to do some self observation, to find areas where I might still be a little “stuck.”

I ordered this really jazzy, glittery, glitzy, girly, rose gold nail polish that is not part of my usual style paradigm. A woman who was waiting on me was wearing it and I just thought, “Wow!” Just, “Wow!” I wonder if I should wait until it arrives, or just do my much-needed toenail polish change now and have the amazing new color to look forward to, the next time that I desperately need a nail polish color change? (which in the summer is much more frequent) Hmmmm.

Okay, friends. I let you inside of my head this morning. Put your random thoughts in the Comments section. Sometimes random, free-form thoughts are the most provoking, intriguing thoughts of the day.

In Session

My daughter and I watched a movie called The Switch, the other night. It featured Jennifer Aniston and Jason Bateman. I love both of these actors so I wanted to like the movie more than I did, but it was still a fun, cute watch. Even with movies and books that I don’t particularly like, I usually have some glean of wisdom that sticks with me. There was one line from this movie, that I thought was particularly good.

Jennifer Aniston’s character, in The Switch, has decided that she is ready for a baby, despite the fact that she has not found a suitable partner in life, yet. She is seriously considering artificial insemination. Jennifer quotes a motivational speaker who says, “Life is in session.”

Life is in session.

Now, of course, Jason Bateman , who essentially plays “Jason Bateman” in every role that he has ever had, makes fun of this statement in his usual snarky, sarcastic way. But I personally thought that the statement is spot on. It sticks with me.

Whether we like it or not, Life is in session. It doesn’t stop for us. Today, seems like it is really the official, first day of summer for my family. The official summer schedule has begun. My youngest son, who is still at home, has started his first day of his summer job. My daughter will start her first day of summer volunteering. Her tennis schedule is now switched to summer hours. My husband’s work schedule always seems to change to more of a summer pace right around this time of year, every year. My summer schedule, as many moms can relate to, falls in line with the rest of my family’s agenda.

Life is in session. We are in summer session. Life feels slower, hotter, more relaxed, less scattered. But that is just an illusion. Life is still going on. Life is in session. Am I taking full advantage of this free, challenging, exciting, surprising, interesting course that I have been gifted? That could end at any point? Am I?

Life is in session.

Where is the Button?

Today is a much better day. Actually, my migraine had completely passed by yesterday afternoon and I had what I like to call a “power surge”. Yesterday afternoon, I became a whirling dervish, an energizer bunny and I checked off a bunch of tasks that I had been putting off doing forever. It is such a great feeling when you get yourself into that kind of “high energy”, focused-on-completion mode. I wish that I could find the “power surge” button on myself, so that I could use it whenever I wanted to get things done, but the source of it, remains entirely elusive. This source of determined, high level stamina seems to come out of nowhere, at times when I least expect to feel up to the challenge of a not very desirable, yet necessary chore. Perhaps it is just not good for our physical bodies, to get into that fast and furious process of getting things accomplished and accomplished well, all that often. But the satisfactory completion of daunting tasks, is the most wonderful thing for my mental health, for sure. Button, button, who’s got the button???


The flourishing of bursts of energy dies beyond us. – Isidore Isou

(I think that this is the appropriate quote for my post, but I couldn’t say for sure. This is from the French poet, Isidore Isou’s Manifesto of Letterist Poetry. I take it to mean, that bursts of energy are indeed an illusive, mysterious phenomenon that will far outlast any of us in the evolution of Life. Please share your interpretations in the Comments section. I’m very comfortable being corrected when I am wrong. Usually. Okay, only sometimes am I comfortable with being corrected when I am wrong. – my husband faithfully reads my blog every day, so I did some edit corrections before he called me out on the need for it.)


Migraine Madness

Unfortunately, I am not going to be able to post much today. I am at the tail end of a miserable migraine that took me two doses of my meds to get rid of and I usually only have to take one. I decided to write about this here, not for sympathy, but hopefully to help someone else. You see, I now realize that I have been prone to migraines for most of my life, but I always chalked them up to sinus problems. I have a cabinet full of collectible neti pots and various bags of salt. Seriously. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago, that a woman I worked with suggested that I might be having migraines instead. The symptoms of bad sinuses and migraines are very similar. My doctor got me a prescription for migraines and it turns out, that was the ticket. No one should have to suffer unnecessarily. Thanks for understanding. See you tomorrow.