Personal Resolutions

I typically don't make New Year's resolutions; but rather, I make New Year's philosophies. I find that a new philosophy is easier to follow than "new rules" for life. And I wasn't really focusing on a new philosophy for 2011, but this morning, it just came to me in the shower. I find it interesting how some of my best thoughts come to me while I'm in the shower. 

My new shower driven philosophy for the New Year is this: 

Breathe more deeply; Live more deeply; Love more deeply.

As a society, we Americans really don't know how to breathe. When I turned 38, I took lessons in yoga. The greatest thing I learned from yoga is how to breathe. I discovered that I hadn't been breathing correctly all my life. Amazing things happen when more oxygen enters your body.  Not only were my sinuses and nasal passages clearer, but my head was clearer, too. I gained vision and energy. Unfortunately, it's been a long time since I've practiced yoga, and I have discovered that I need to make time to breathe again; to center myself and become more energized.

I also find that I get so caught up in the day to day that I forget to truly live; to take pleasure in every little thing life has to offer. And to make plans. Don't forget to make plans; otherwise life will have a way of slipping right on by. Plan to visit friends, take a class or a vacation. Maybe the plans will have to change, but working, dreaming and living towards a plan of some sort adds an extra spice to life and makes life seem richer and more rewarding.

And don't forget to love. And not just those you care about, but everyone you meet each day. It really doesn't cost anything to smile at a stranger and make their day a little better. And it's important to not just love others but yourself as well. Having spent over 30 years as a wife and mother, I find it's easy to spend all your love on others and forget yourself; and then there's nothing left to give to others. Loving yourself and taking time to do the things you know are truly good for you will give you more love to give to others.

And while you're about the business of making a new philosophy, a personal mission statement isn't a bad idea either. Mine is to: 

Create beauty and produce positive energy -

As an artist, I strive to make art that will bring beauty to other people's lives. I'm not about making a social statement or something that will shock the viewer. And when I receive phone calls and /or letters from collectors who tell me how much joy my artwork has brought them, the feeling of joy I receive in return is more than I can even describe.

And the creation of beauty plays hand in hand with the production of positive energy. Everything in the universe is made up of energy and that includes our thoughts. They are electrical impulses and they are not stagnant. I find it poisonous to dwell upon negative thoughts and derogatory comments. It poisons me and it poisons those around me. I have found that by looking for and commenting in the good of others or in situations around me, life is so much better and people are so much kinder. Many might scoff at prayer, but I'm a firm believer that that is another way to produce positive energy. I have seen and felt the effects. It doesn't matter what you believe in or who you pray to, the positive energy gets out there.

Producing positive energy 100% of the time is probably not possible, but it is a worthy goal. I know that I'll still cuss out deranged drivers and whine about incompetent politicians, but more of my thoughts will be directed toward what's good in life.

So Happy New Year, and if you want to share, I'd love to hear about your aspirations and goals for the year ahead.

Cold Moon and Lunar Eclipse

                                 December 21, 2010 - Winter Solstice Lunar Eclipse

Did you know that the full moon in December is known as the Cold Moon? It's also known as the Long Night Moon, Oak Moon, Frost Moon and Moon Before Yule. 

 

I've been obsessed with the moon since I was a tiny little girl. It began as a fearful obsession. My father unwittingly caused me to be afraid of the moon by pointing out the "man in the moon," and my imagination took over from there. I had a recurring nightmare starring the man in the moon  from which I awoke with a start when his disembodied voice began to talk to me from the sky in a disapproving tone and I could hear my heart  pounding in my ears.

By the time I was school aged, I had worked through my fears and and instead of feeling terror at the moon, I reveled in its beauty in all its phases. (Although I still occasionally have those dreams where a disembodied voice from the sky talks to me in a disapproving tone.)

I can still clearly remember the first time I witnessed a lunar eclipse. It was Saturday, the night before Easter, April 13, 1968. I was on vacation in Florida and the evening was warm. To my 11 year old mind, the totally eclipsed moon resembled  a perfectly toasted marshmallow. And another special lunar eclipse that I remember was the night of my senior prom, May 25, 1975. 

I can well understand that a lunar eclipse struck fear in the hearts of people ages ago who didn't understand the workings of the solar system. I find it interesting that we are still awestruck by this phenomenon although we know it's only a matter of shadows. 

And I, for one, will continue to be forever fascinated by the night sky and the mystery that is our universe.

It's Only a Number, Right?

 

Not so very long ago, a customer came into the medical equipment store where I work and ordered a custom fitted back brace. My co-worker, Suzanne, took her measurements and ordered said brace; only to discover that it was on back-order indefinitely. The customer came back to the store and selected another brace from the catalog and after she left Suzanne went to order it and gasped aloud, "Oh no! I need her waist measurement for this one... I only have her hip measurement." To which I glibly replied, "So call her up. She'll know her waist measurement." Following that stupid statement there was a stunned silence and Suzanne murmured, "I don't know my waist measurement, because I don't want to know it." And I suddenly realized that I was in complete agreement. I didn't know my waist measurement either for the same reason.

Suzanne tried to call the customer and got her voice mail. When the customer called back, Suzanne was tied up so I fielded the call. I tried to explain to the customer that we needed her waist measurement and she frostily replied "Large!" I calmly continued my questioning, "Then your waist measures between 30 and 35 inches?" "YES, YES, YES!!" she shouted at me. "Suzanne took all my measurements, didn't she save them?!?" Geez, lady, I was thinking,  why so testy?

That's when I suddenly understood the mystery behind women's clothing sizes.Think about it. Does it make any sense? You go into a clothing store and you buy something arbitrarily sized anywhere between 0 and 16 or higher. But what does it mean?

A man goes into a clothing store and he tells the clerk his waist size and inseam length and voila! He gets a pair of pants that fit him perfectly. Men's clothing sizes are based on real numbers. A woman wouldn't reveal her waist size to anyone. I'd rather tell a complete stranger my age than give them my waist measurement. So what are women's clothes sizes based on? And why is a size 10 in one designer's line of clothing not necessarily the same as a size 10 in another line? In fact, the more expensive the designer, the smaller the size you will probably wear. Isn't that a neat marketing trick? And why is it that I weigh 20 pounds more than I did as a teenager, but my current clothing size is two sizes smaller? Where's the logic in any of it? And I feel sorry for any man who tries to buy clothes for his wife or girlfriend.

Well, it's because women can't face the truth. We are in complete denial about our measurements. So someone, somewhere came up with a system where we can talk about our size without revealing too much information. And as women have become larger, the clothing industry has restructured the sizing system so that we can all feel smaller again; another neat trick!  Mystery solved.

That night, after the incident with the back brace customer, I was getting ready for bed and my eyes drifted to the drawer where I knew my measuring tape was kept. I took a deep breath and quietly withdrew that instrument of torture out of the drawer and took my waist measurement...All I'm saying is, I'm 53 years old!

Mysteries of Spring

No matter how old I get, I don't think I'll ever tire of watching the seasons change. I think almost everyone can say the same thing. 

I particularly love watching the change in seasons in the wild; especially in the dunes and the marshes. I love that you can count on it; year after year. And I love the fact that the more mankind learns about the cycle of life, the more we are left with questions unanswered. We weren't meant to know that answer to everything and I find life more beautiful for its mysteries.







The beach plums were in full bloom as I walked through the dunes early this morning. The site was breathtaking and I wanted to share it.

I hope your spring is beautiful and mysterious wherever you are.

Tornado Week?

The Weather Channel has proclaimed this to be Tornado Week. Really!?! Are we celebrating tornadoes now?

I don't know about you, but as a child tornadoes were the monster in my closet (that and the man in the moon) and they played a huge role in my recurring nightmares.

Please pardon me if I skip the festivities this week.

Where Am I?

Some of my family members and I participate in location sharing with Google Latitude. I think it's a rather fun application and it makes it very interesting to follow family members when they're traveling. Sometimes though, as with all technology, blips occur. I don't know how many times I've been tempted to call my son and ask if he threw his wife off a bridge or if she just decided to jump because according to Latitude, she got out of the car at the river and he kept going. (Of course that's not what happened in real life.)

And even now, according to Latitude, which I keep on my Google homepage, I'm not at home in my office typing this. Nope. I'm 80 miles away from home doing only God knows what. And funnily enough, this happens almost every morning. My location is transmitted from my phone and my phone is in my pocket, so how is it my transmitted location is off by 80 miles?

So my question for the universe today is this: do our cell phones have virtual souls that participate in astral projection? And if so, why doesn't mine have a better imagination?

Road Trip

I love road trips. I love to drive. Of course the current price of gas keeps my road trips to a minimum, but I look forward to just about any excuse I can get to get in the car and drive somewhere.

Yesterday, I traveled 220 miles with my husband to help the grandkids celebrate their birthdays. The route we took was a familiar one. And as many times as I've made the trip I'm always bemused by the "Low Flying Aircraft" sign which we see along the way. Just what is it I'm supposed to do with this information? How do I react to this cautionary? Am I supposed to duck? If I see a low flying aircraft am I supposed to change lanes or maybe swerve to miss it? I'm puzzled, I'm confused. Why are they telling me this?


And who hasn't seen this falling rocks sign from time to time on their travels? Once again; how am I supposed to react? Am I supposed to drive along looking up at the cliffs searching for these rocks so I can swerve if they fall? Am I supposed to speed up and drive really fast so if there are falling rocks they don't hit me?

I have another theory. You've heard that expression when someone dies suddenly from something catastrophic and people say, "They never knew what hit them." I think that these signs have been erected so that if a low flying airplane or a falling rock smashes your car and kills you, you'll at least have an idea of what it was that caused your death. You will have been forwarned what it was that hit you and you won't die clueless. I think that that's what these signs are all about.

Ouch!

I was getting dressed the other morning when suddenly I felt a small but very sharp pain in my derriere. Ouch!

I removed the last item of clothing I had put on to discover the item pictured here. It is a little piece of very fine gauge wire and it had become caught in my Cabela's 100% silk long underwear.

I realize that the average person would have just thrown away the offending item, finished getting dressed and gone on about their day... but not me.

I was most perplexed. How in the world did such a thing get caught up in my long johns in the first place? I mean, really, for the most part my underwear only goes where I go and to the best of my knowledge I had not been anywhere to pick up such an object.

It brought to mind that vintage cartoon where the shopkeeper closes up for the night and after he leaves, all the inanimate objects in the store come to life and spend the night partying. It made me wonder if my clothes go out for a romp after I fall asleep at night. After all, my clothes don't sleep in the same room as I do, so they could easily sneak away without me knowing it. And if my long johns are getting into this kind of trouble, God only knows what my bras are up to. So until this little mystery is solved, I guess all my clothes are under suspicion and can't be trusted.

Gas Prices

Is it just me? Am I the only one who's frustrated by the endless fluctuation of gas prices?

I used to live in a rural environment and found myself having to fill my tank at least once a week, if not more, whether I wanted to or not. Now that I'm living in a more urban setting I can go longer before I have to fill up and I notice that I'm almost obsessed with the price of gasoline. One day I'll notice that the price has dropped a penny or two and I'll look at my fuel gauge and notice that I have a half a tank. So I ask myself, hmmm, should I fill up now or wait a couple days and see if it goes lower? But, what if this is the lowest it gets and I miss this great opportunity? Like most women, I put off filling the tank until I absolutely have to so I just end up taking my chances on the price.

However, a couple of weeks ago I was really getting low and I was on my way to the state park to take my dog for a walk. It's only 4 miles away and I contemplated filling up on the way there or waiting until the return trip. It would have been more convenient to wait because the station would be on the right hand side of the road coming home, but I know how tired I am after my exuberant young Lab has drug me around the sand dunes for 2 and a half miles, so I filled up on the way there. Don't you know, an hour later on the way home, the gas price was posted at 2 cents less!!!! I felt so cheated! I know, I know, we're only talking about 30 cents here, but it's the principle!

On the flip side, two months ago I was driving south to visit my family in Georgia and was looking for a gas station with reasonable prices and I pulled into a Pilot station as they had the best price that I'd seen. I filled up, pulled out again and happened to glance back up at the price sign and couldn't believe my eyes. While I had been filling up, the price had gone up 2 cents. I quickly grabbed my receipt out of my wallet for a second look and was relieved to see that I had been charged at the lower price.

Sometimes I feel like I'm a participant in a surreal reality game show and I can only win by buying gas at the best price within a 72 hour time period. When did gas prices start changing so rapidly? Was it with the advent of the digital price signs? Did the price of gas change less rapidly when someone had to physically go out to the sign and change the prices by hand? Now someone can just sit inside the store and push a button. No big deal.

And what if this rapid price changing trend catches on with other commodities? Will we see digital marquees in front of our supermarkets reflecting an hourly change in the price of sugar and coffee? Don't laugh, I'm afraid it could happen.

Something In The Air

Bad luck and weird events come in three's; I'm convinced of it. Years ago, when I worked in the life insurance business, I knew that if I got a report of the death of a policyholder, I could count on two more within 30 to 45 days. It never failed. And this week, which has been weird to begin with, gave us three strange events within 24 hours.

It all began last night as I was getting ready to prepare dinner. I reached into the fridge for a cold lemon-lime seltzer water. I drink them all day long and I've come to expect them to taste particularly frosty cold when the first sip passes my lips. So, I was a little disturbed when this one tasted slightly warm. But, because I was so busy preparing dinner I pressed on and forgot about the temperature of my drink. After dinner; however, when I went to retrieve a pint of Baskin Robbins jamoca almond fudge from the freezer and found "soup" instead, I realized that we had a problem. All the lights were on, but the computer panel of our fridge had flat lined. Fortunately (or unfortunately) I'd run into that problem before with a similar refrigerator and I knew to "re-boot" it by unplugging it and then plugging it back in and resetting the thermostat. Crisis averted.

Then, this morning, I received a phone call from the Fraud Investigation Unit from my credit union. They just wanted to ask me to verify a few recent purchases with my debit card and promised it would only take a second. Since I have not used this particular debit card in more than two months, I knew it was going to take more than a second. Sure enough, they reported a fistful of purchases with my card in the past couple of days; most of them originating in California. Needless to say, these are not my purchases. Someone had gotten a hold of my debit card information and was trying to make the most of it. Since there's less than $10 in that particular account, they're not going to get far and I sincerely doubt that that new Apple computer they ordered online will be delivered to them. So that card has been canceled and I've been instructed on how to dispute the charges. Another crisis averted.

So, just to top things off, as my husband was working from home this afternoon his computer crashed. I mean it just stopped in the middle of what he was doing and he lost all his program files. Fortunately, he's in the computer repair business and only had to take his computer across the street to be fixed. As yet, we don't know the extent of the damage, but are hopeful that the files can be restored.

On our way home from dropping off the computer we did a little recap, realized that we had reached 3 events and feel confident that, for now at least, our troubles are over.

Alien Attack

I love technology! Whenever I learn something new and accomplish what appears to me to be a daunting task there's that feeling of "YES! You can teach this old dog a new trick!"

I was feeling pretty smug the other day when I figured out how to let the followers of my blogs subscribe to them by email using Feed Burner. I couldn't wait to announce the news and I quickly wrote a little announcement on my blog, a crabulous life!

Within the hour my new post rolled over onto Facebook and I was horrified to discover that my blog had been hijacked by an alien and it looked like this:

Tulisan ini saya buat selaku seorang newbie, jadi sorry-sorry aja kalo anda merasa yang udah senior menerima tutorial ini. Jujur, saya adalah seorang newbie, newbie yang imut dan newbie yang lucusangat manis, enggak percaya

Only it was worse because it went on and on and on. It was much longer than what I had written.

Of course, being a red blooded, middle aged, American female, my natural reaction was to point a finger and blame someone else. "Facebook has messed up my blog post!" I angrily announced to the world. I was sure that Facebook would discover its mistake and correct its error and everything would be all right. After 24 hours things not only still looked the same, but my subsequent blog posts refused to feed to Facebook. Now I was starting to wonder if the problem could be my fault.

I had been so sure that what I was seeing was some sort of computerese gibberish, but upon closer inspection I began to suspect that maybe it was a real language. I found an online language identifier and discovered that, in fact, the language was Indonesian. Then I got help from the cute little Word Monkey that I keep on my Google home page, for just such an emergency, and learned that aliens hadn't hijacked my blog; instead, I'd managed to hijack someone else's blog.

This particular blogger is named Keren and is a self described "cute and sweet newbie" who is humbly giving instructions to more experienced computer users on how to overcome a certain obstacle they face when using computers in an internet cafe. She apologizes profusely for her audacity and doesn't want to insult anyone, hence the "jadi sorry-sorry" in the first line.

Great! So now what?!? It took me another two hours of experimentation to fix the problem, but I managed to figure it out and once again I'm feeling pretty smug.

But, gee! Of all the blogs in the world, how did I manage to cross lines with this one? How did it happen? Just like I'll never know why my husband's sound dock plays reggae every morning at nine, I'll probably never know the answer to this question either. It's just another Question for the Universe. Jadi sorry-sorry!

Sunday Morning Reggae?

I didn't sleep well last night. My son and girlfriend drove down from NYC and tried to sneak in to surprise us with a visit at 4:00 a.m., but their plot was foiled by Emmett, my ever faithful watchdog.

I finally fell back asleep sometime after 6:00 a.m. and at 8:45 Emmett decided he'd had enough of that stuff and he encouraged me to get up and let him out. While he was outside taking care of business and digging up old bones, I decided to check out my email in my sun porch converted office.

All of a sudden, my husband's sound dock which is located in the bookcase between our desks (we share an office) came alive filling the room with the sounds of reggae. I looked at the time on my computer and it was straight up nine o'clock. I swear this has never happened before. I just stared at the sound dock in complete amazement. Then I sort of got into the groove.

Our landscape is still a frozen tundra from an unprecedented amount of snow that was dumped on us a couple of weeks ago and I'm really feeling the winter blues. The sunlight streaming into the sun porch and the sounds of the tropical music nearly transported me from Siberia to a sunny, sandy beach with the sound of quiet waves in the background, shady palm trees and suntanned, muscled gods serving fruity drinks with tiny umbrellas. Ahh, what the right music can do for you!

My husband finally put in an appearance and I asked him if he'd somehow set his sound dock to play reggae at 9:00 a.m. and he was clueless. So what happened? I realize that I may never know. But I like to think that someone or something out there knew exactly what I needed to help cure my winter blues.

Lone Silver Sequin

I stepped out of the shower today to find a lone silver sequin twinkling up at me from my fluffy turquoise bathmat. Hello, I thought, how did you get there? I haven't worn sequins in ages and I haven't used it in my artwork in eons. And then I started to mentally kick myself for swearing off Facebook during Lent because I wanted to pose this question to my friends online.

I could already imagine their responses. The ladies would definitely answer. I already know whose answers will be imaginatively funny and whose will be sarcastic and borderline lewd. The men, however, will remain silent on this subject. None of them will want to risk revealing their secret sequins fetishes.

It's a shame that in our society sequins can only be respectably worn by straight women, gay men, figure skaters and ballroom dancers. Look at the number of supposedly straight football players who have participated on Dancing With The Stars and have confessed to loving their be-sequined costumes. I mean really, wouldn't our lives be much happier and brighter if everyone could incorporate sequins into their every day wardrobes?

I want to know the answers to questions like these, but more importantly; I want to know why that lone silver sequin wasn't on my bathmat before I got into the shower.