Friday, January 14, 2011

The Siren Song of the Flip Flops

I didn't sleep well last night. Just as I was drifting off, I heard the faint sound of voices in distress. I could hear them crying out "Help me!" "Release me!" "Let me out to play!" 
With that last cry I realized that the voices were coming from the storage bin in my attic. My flip flops had awakened too early from their hibernation.

Wearily I released the pull down stairs and in my flannel pajamas made my way to the attic. It was so cold up there. The cries of distress grew louder and as I opened the Rubbermaid bin, my flip flops were nearly hysterical. They begged and pleaded to be released. They were tired, they said, of the dark and cold. And patiently I tried to explain to them that it wasn't much better outside the bin either.

Then take us somewhere warm, they pleaded. They entreated me with a variety of options but the one that nearly brought me to my knees (well, in truth I was already on my knees, our attic ceiling isn't that high) was Puerto Rico. Let's go to Cerromar Beach, they exclaimed. You can float down the river pool and enjoy Pina Coladas at the "in pool" bar made with the freshest pineapple on earth. We'll bask in the sun and save your lounge chair for you. For a moment they almost made sense. Only with the greatest self-discipline, and an even greater lack of funding, was I able to resist the temptation.

I spent more time talking quietly with them and encouraging them by letting them know that spring was right around the corner. In 30 days they'll notice that it's definitely lighter and in 60 days it will be noticeably warmer. 

They finally calmed down and drifted back into their hibernation. But as I crept quietly back down the stairs I found myself thinking, it's a long, long time until May.

Monday, January 10, 2011

I, with a deeper instinct...

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.
~ Anais Nin

Wow! Powerful stuff!

This quote crossed my radar screen today and stopped me in my tracks. (It takes a lot to stop me in my tracks!) I  thought about it for a long time. And I realized that, as young as I was (and perhaps it was through instinct) I managed to choose a man just like this to marry 32 years ago. It hasn't always been the smoothest ride (in fact it's been down right bumpy) but it's made me the woman I am today... in need of no man. I am with a man because I "choose" to be, not because I "need" to be.

And while I find this quote powerful, I am a little puzzled about what it means to be "treated like a woman." I'd love to get some dialog going on this because I am willing to bet there would be a variety of responses.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

When is Enough, Enough?

I really don't like to waste energy by dwelling on things that I hate; however, I HATE the COLD! And I find that I hate it worse every winter. I'm not especially crazy about extremely hot days, either, but I'd much rather complain about being hot than about being cold. Of course, not everyone feels as I do. Some people LOVE the cold! And that's just fine. 

So my big question is, why do I continue to live where it's cold in the winter if I hate it so much? For that matter why don't we all live exactly where we'd like to? And what does it take for us to finally pick up and leave the places we've called home to find paradise elsewhere?

One couple I know, who'd lived in Florida forever, finally couldn't take the barrage of hurricanes they were experiencing some years back, so they moved back to Ohio, where he was from. She didn't make it through that first Ohio winter. The miserable, gray days, so typical of the Buckeye State, caused her to succumb to deep depression; forcing them to move to the Carolinas the following summer. Last I heard, they were doing just fine.

In late 1989, my grandfather, who'd lived many years in Oakland, California, returned to live in his native state of Ohio. Most family members thought the sudden migration east was due to his shake-up during the Loma Prieta earthquake; but he confided in me it was because his girlfriend refused to sleep with him anymore. Two years later, at the age of 84, he left Ohio and moved to Alabama to marry his latest sweetheart. In this instance, love trumped climate not once, but twice.

And of course there are the people who feel stuck where they are because of jobs; or they move to god-forsaken places because of jobs where they're stuck.once again. Sometimes I fantasize about being a gypsy; where my job, my home and all my possessions go with me wherever I go, whenever I feel like going. 

So when will the cold finally prove to be too much for me? I'm not sure, but I feel that day is growing closer and I already have my "saved searches" on Realtor.com. What will it take to finally push me over the edge? That's just another question for the universe.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Perspective

Wow, when you put it that way...


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