Happy 200th Mr. Lincoln
Posted on 12. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
Today is the 200th Anniversary of the birth of Abraham Lincoln. The 16th President of the United States, serving during a time of stress and strife for the Nation – the Civil War (or “War Between the States” or “War of Northern Aggression”). I am not eloquent enough to express the greatness of this man, but will leave you with his own words….
Engraved on the walls are two of Lincoln’s most famous speeches. His Second Inaugural Address (on the North Wall) and The Gettysburg Address (on the South Wall), the text of which is below:
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
The images are mine, of the Lincoln Memorial, both taken in April 2008.
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Customer Service and Boobs (or how I spent my afternoon)
Posted on 11. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
I spent my morning on the golf course and have some thoughts about my play (as always) some thoughts on “golf etiquette” and some thoughts on being a woman playing golf when 98% of the other players are men. But that will wait til later.
Instead, I wanted to talk about Boobs. Not that I don’t think about my own boobs when I play golf because that is a difference in a woman’s swing and a man’s swing: keeping my arms straight as I swing. There is golf talk on that subject. But my afternoon was spent in the attempt to buy bras for my oldest daughter. And Close Encounters of the Customer Service Kind.
Let me start by saying that all of the females who are related to me by blood are above average in the upper portions. Blessed, some would say, cursed my youngest would say. I won’t embarrass them by posting their bra-size here, but just know that the girls are both larger than DD. They get it naturally. Even when I am thinner, I am top heavy. The last bra I purchased was a 36G which is what started me on this thought of customer service last week when I made my purchase, and brought to the forefront when I took the oldest shopping today.
I have two places I prefer to go when I go bra shopping. Nordstroms is the first choice and Neiman Marcus is the second choice.
Believe me when I say that it has taken me a long time to come to terms with the need to shop at what is considered a high-end retail store for a piece of clothing that is mostly seen by me, myself and I. I am the consummate bargain shopper and though I love nice things, I prefer to pay as little as possible for said things. I believe that women should wear beautiful lingerie. It’s an indulgence that is for yourself, and especially moms tend to indulge on everyone but themselves. But stores like Target have beautiful things – in a C or D Cup. When you are larger than a D, it is very hard to find something that fits, let alone something that is attractive. No teenager wants to wear a bra that looks like a Grandma bra. Even more embarrassing is having you MOTHER in the dressing room looking at your boobs (that you are not yet comfortable having because of their proportion in comparison to your peers).
Nordstroms and Neimans still has something that most stores have not had in years: Customer Service. Yes, I know, a rare concept in retail today. But the people that work at these places actually want to HELP the customers. And on top of helping customers, they know all about the products in their area – be it shoes, or cosmetics, or bras.
When you walk into the store, you are greeted and you are asked if you are finding what you need. When you walk into the lingerie department, especially with a teenager in tow, you and the teenager are treated with kid gloves. Every time you buy bras, it’s a good idea to be fitted again. I lost a mere 10 lbs and I changed from a 38FF to a 36G. You are whisked into the dressing room, and the teenager is measured. The sales person asks you what type of bra you are looking for (smooth cup, lacey, black, white, fun colored, etc).
Then the sales person allows you to stay in the dressing room while she digs through all the sizes until she pulls items for you to try on. She then looks at each one you try on, adjusts straps, checks the fit. If it fits, she tells you. If it doesn’t fit, she tells you and searches for something that does. Sometimes, you find something you love. Sometimes, you are unable to find something you can live with. No matter what, the sales person stays upbeat and kind. When you leave, she gives you her card to call in case you need something. When you are larger than average, finding a bra that fits, that looks attractive, that is comfortable and makes you feel attractive is exhausting. Digging through stacks of bras ranging from a 32A to a 44H is daunting. For a store to have a sales person that knows how all the different brands fit as well as how to properly fit you, will dig through the volume of bras in the store and bring them to you so that you don’t have to re-dress every time what you have picked doesn’t work? It’s a true God-send.
And when one of the kids is in tears because she is so much larger than her peers, these wonderful saleswomen are able to find words that sooth. Now THAT, is priceless. It’s priceless.
My ex-husband complained when I told him the youngest and I were going to Nordstroms this fall so I could buy her some new bras. He told me she didn’t need anything from a Hoity Toity store. But how the hell else am I going to get a 13-year-old properly fit when she is larger than a DD and has a band size less than a 36? Should I force her into bras that don’t really fit her? Or can I take her to a place where they will help us? I chose to do what was less traumatic for a stressful situation.
I bought my last bra at Neiman Marcus. I happened to be in the store when the rep from Fantasie was there. I tried on every single bra they carried that was available in my size. Today, we bought the oldest bras at Nordstroms. We got fabulous customer service.
And left with bras that really fit.
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Doing Nothing is Not An Option
Posted on 09. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
Visitors here know that the discussion of politics is not a typical thing for me. I talked about it briefly on Election Night. If isn’t that I don’t have opinions. I’m very opinionated and attempt to educate myself about what is going on in the world. As I educate myself, sometimes my opinions change. Sometimes, they don’t. The economy is on my mind just like many others of you. I’m self-employed and just because my business is good one day doesn’t mean that tomorrow my business will be the same. I am ever the optimist, but I am also a realist. I would be lying if I told you that I was not concerned. We are in a situation close to we were in the 1930’s…. The image below is from the FDR Memorial in DC and is just part of the Bronze Sculptures there representing the Depression there.
I just finished watching President Obama’s Town Hall Meeting in Indiana. A couple of things stood out to me in his comments prior to the asking of questions: “Doing nothing is not an option” and “If you have money, spend it.” and “people don’t want a hand-out, they want a job”.
I am watching the Senate just as I watched The House. I have jotted off emails to Both of my Senators, just as I do on a regular basis to my Representative. Something must be done.
Going about my regular business has made me even more concerned and very thoughtful about my own personal approach right now. When I traveled this past week, DFW Airport was light. As in eerily light with no one in line at the ticket counter when I checked my bag , less than a dozen people going through security and about four or five TSA agents just standing around. The hotel, though a boutique-ish hotel and small, was still sparse on the guest side. I stopped by Starbucks on Sunday to pick up a New York Times and the place was EMPTY.
I’ve made adjustments to my budget. The regular visit to Starbucks that used to be part of my routine isn’t so regular anymore. But that’s not just due to my personal pocketbook, part of that is due to the closing of my local Starbucks. The folks I saw for coffee for the last ten years have scattered and are going to other places – or else aren’t going much either. When I go out just to have coffee, I am going to a locally owned coffee house. I am not making frivolous travel plans, but when I traveled last week, I did use the car service I’ve used for the last three years to transport me to and from the airport. I’m not buying new suits at the rate I was six months ago, but I don’t need any new suits right this moment – especially with the loss of a few pounds. I did, however, buy a somewhat extravagant pair of shoes this past week as they are classics for my taste and will be worn by me for years with both jeans and skirts. And I bought them from a sales person that I know works on 100% commission.
Some of the changes I have not made include firing the lady who cleans my house. I can afford to keep her if I watch my own spending a little and she needs the job. I have not stopped eating out overall, but I am choosing to go to more locally owned establishments when I can. I haven’t stopped shopping , though I am careful with my purchases. I am exploring more locally owned shops, like a small independent grocer/deli nearby as an alternative to only shopping at a big-box store. I hated having to do major home repairs, but I was happy to find solid, independent skilled folks to do the work. And of course I’m getting my hair done and tipping my hairdresser just like I always have.
Who knows. Maybe my personal contributions are nothing but a teeny drop in the bucket to a few folks. But I am hopeful that it matters to those people I come in contact with and the businesses that I support. I just can’t in good conscious “do nothing”.
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Thinking of Spring
Posted on 08. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
It’s February. According to the calendar, Spring is still another month away…and if we listen to old Phil from Pennsylvania, we’ve got six more weeks of winter coming (well, five now, since that prediction was made a week ago). I am ever the optimist…and hope that no matter what Phil says, Spring will be early. I prefer to use the “Greta” method…that when Mother Nature breaks the back of Winter here, I can tell, no matter the outside temperature, that Spring is upon us, because Greta (the Bouvier) begins sleeping on the tile floor of my bathroom rather than her blanket at the foot of my bed. She has been sleeping on the tile for the last 4 nights.
I was also going through photos to pull some things for the 52 Stories project and came across this photo of the Cherry Blossoms in DC from April of last year.
It was so beautiful last year. It’s a crap shoot, as anything is with Mother Nature, whether the blossoms that represent Spring to DC will have a good season or a short one. 2007 was very short and a heavy rain seemed to wash them all away in an instant. I missed the short-lived blossoms by about a week, though a few stragglers remained. 2008 was a good year and I was blessed to be there. I was doubly blessed to have a lovely April day to walk from the Jefferson Memorial, all around the Tidal Basin, past Roosevelt and across to Lincoln. A couple of my photos are here though if you look through the April part of my blog, you’ll see more). Hopefully, my blessings will be generous this year and I will be present to witness the 2009 Cherry Blossom Season as well.
It’s funny how one image can set us off into our head and woolgathering. It got me to thinking about the vagaries of Mother Nature. And how no matter how hard Winter seems, that Spring will come. It makes me think about planning, too. We plan our lives and set our purposes in most cases. We choose a college and a career path, or a partner to spend out lives with, or carefully plan a party for our parent’s 50th. Often times, they go off as planned, but sometimes, life throws us a curve. Mother Nature and the Cherry Trees are just one of those physical examples. 2007 was a curve, 2008 went as planned. The anticipation for 2009 is beginning.
Curves are usually thought of in the negative connotation, but I’m a big believer that curves are not always a bad thing. Sometimes, it’s simply a vehicle for growth or learning….when life is “perfect” and going according to plan, it’s easy to become complacent. Even when life isn’t going so smooth, we often ignore the signs of change so as to not rock the boat of our neat and tidy little lives. I know I doubted – and friends wondered – how I would recover the pieces of my life after the divorce, but I found it within myself and just did. When I probe inward and do a little evaluation, me in 2009 is a much better person than the me in 2004. Not that I am “done”, though. I still learn each day. And like my training in the QA world, there is continual growth in my soul…
Well, I certainly digress in what were my thoughts of Spring, but since this is my space to be who I am for this moment, it’s ok.
Spring is about rebirth and renewal and growth. Despite the fact that we know that Spring will eventually follow Winter, there is still the anticipation of its arrival. I am simply hopeful that it will be soon as I want warm breezes, shoots of green, and the beauty of a Red Breasted Robin to go along with the mockingbird family living in my front hedge. Patience has never been one of my virtues, but I am beginning to find a better understanding of her. I am beginning to appreciate how unexpected things in my life are helping me to find some growth…some confidence…and some comfort in the results of patience. How confidence and peace are intertwined and in reach.
And like Spring, it will come. In it’s own time. I am the ever optimist.
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Shaking My Head at The City
Posted on 08. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
I enter and exit through my garage. The front door is for answering when UPS delivers and other such rarities, which means I open it maybe once a week. When I pull into the driveway and see something stuck on the door, I open it and clear it off.
This morning, after the grocery store, I saw something in the bushes. It looked like paper, which of course had me wondering what trash had blown into the front yard. But it was in the TOP of the bushes. I just went out to get it, since tomorrow is trash day and since I truly don’t want trash in the bushes. And it was a note.
Well, not really a note, more of a LETTER of NOTICE from the city that my street is scheduled for a Mill & Overlay / Asphalt Resurface. Which is nice to see the city tax dollars at work. But the note gets better:
“Your drive approach will need to be replaced along with several feet of curb and gutter. During the time of the drive approach replacement, you will be unable to park in your driveway for five days. We will knock on your door before we remove to ensure that your vehicle has been removed from the garage.”
Maybe it’s just me, but I think taped to my door or in the mail would have been a more appropriate spot for a note informing me that I would lose access to part of my own property. An important part of my property since it’s how I enter and exit. It’s nice they are fixing things, of course, but I’m left with all kinds of questions like am I supposed to park on the street? ‘Cause if they are tearing up all the curbs, where am I supposed to safely park. And there is a fire hydrant in front of my house, so, if I have to park in front of it, will they still ticket me?
I travel a lot for business. What if they knock on my door and I am out of town? Is my car STUCK in the garage?
The hand written addition on the bottom informs me that a crew is scheduled to start on 2/9/08, which is tomorrow. There is a phone number as well, so I can call tomorrow, hopefully before they begin work. I’m sure it will all work out. I’m just on the puzzled side and feeling like I’ve missed the secret handshake of Where to Place Important Notices.
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Week Five of 52 Stories: Rex
Posted on 07. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
This is for the 52 Stories group on Flickr where we take one picture a week and write a story. This is mine for Week Five.
All was quiet in the Smouse House.
I remember that it was a Sunday and the sun had barely peeked over the horizon and had not yet risen enough to bring light into the house through the micro-gaps in the mini-blinds. The girls, typical teens in their sleep habits, were still in that deep REM sleep. They wouldn’t wake for hours. Animals, as was there demand, had been given their morning meal and the coffee pot was dripping. I was waiting for my first cup of the French Roast mixed with just the right amount of milk. Patience is not always my friend during this wait, but I had been trying her out of late, and resisted my urge to use the “drip and pour” method as was frequent during a busier morning. But it was Sunday and I had no where I had to be at any particular time.
My head was still on the filaments of the dream I had woken to as I dug into my still sleepy mind to pick out more details beyond the feelings of softness and warmth. It’s harder to remember when you jolt awake. And the dream was too delicious not not savor as I would a fine piece of chocolate. So I stood in the dark kitchen with readied cup, waiting for the signaling beep as I took in the smell of the fresh coffee with the warmth of my thoughts. It was almost automatic pilot when I poured and mixed into my favorite cup of late, the one from Mystic Seaport. I took the first sip standing there at the counter before wandering into the living room to enjoy my first cup in the silence.
And as I sat on the love seat, hot cup of coffee in hand, my leg brushed something between the sofa and the love seat. My heart went up and my throat and all soft and warm feelings were gone in an instant when I realized that something was there. And then I saw that it was only Rex.
Damned. Kids.
Well, kid. As Rex belongs to my oldest. My oldest who, at 17, loves dinosaurs more than any 7 year old boy. And she had positioned this 2-foot high creature, in all his plastic glory, just peeking between the sofa and the love seat. Peeking just enough to cause me to startle.
The house was still dark and silent, but my head wasn’t. Lost was the softness of the dream and it was replaced with feelings of amusement and a different kind of softness. That love that a parent feels no matter how horrible she been the day before. Pieces of their personality that you always liked – like this love of dinosaurs at the edge of adulthood – pushing away the feelings of frustration at hormonal rants and refusals to take out the trash.
I patted Rex on the head and enjoyed my first cup of coffee in the quiet of the morning. Where everyone was sleeping. And everything was right.
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Engaging in Conversation
Posted on 06. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
I’ve learned that there are less than half the number of women traveling for business as men. I see it when folks are checking in along side me, in the airport, and in the hotel restaurant….or bar. More than half of the meals I eat when I am on the road take place at the hotel bar. After a longish day, who wants to make it even longer by going from an office, to a restaurant and then the hotel? Besides, if the hotel has a decent restaurant, it’s convenient and filing expenses is easier because there are less receipts to lose.
When I was in DC, I did have favorite restaurants outside of the hotel, of course, but I frequented the ones closest to my hotel more than those that I loved that required a cab ride. You can’t eat 14 days straight at the same place. But on trips like this, where I’m in a couple of nights and the weather is rainy? Yep, hotel dining. It’s easier overall, as well, to eat at the bar. The service is usually quick, if you are in the mood to start a conversation, there is the bartender or other patrons in the same boat as you (traveling alone), headline news and/or sports is typically on….
My defense for avoiding conversation when my head is full of work is a book. It has to be a book, because the newspaper invites conversation and other patrons know that it’s easily interruptible because the articles short. I know it may be a cop out and when I have amazing food, I really focus in and savor what I am putting into my mouth. But I rarely go to dinner alone without a book.
I honestly enjoy conversation. You would be amazed at what a stranger may tell another stranger, especially if he has something weighing on their mind…or their heart. I usually stick to the subjects of business, where you are from, the weather, the game, or something similar. Women can’t be too terribly friendly to strange men, even in the safety of a hotel bar. I say safety, because the bartender usually watches out for single women alone. They really do, especially at nice hotels.
But even when you try to stick to safe subjects, you sometimes hear more than you bargained for. Sometimes, it’s a story that you want to remember – it was poignant or funny. I have one of those from this trip that, in all honesty, deserves to be one of my 52 stories for this year (I just need to take a photo to go with it). I had a second conversation last night, that although comment worthy (a daughter with Tourette’s Syndrome) crossed the line when the gent gave me his room number and told me to “call if I wanted to get together later”. Those are the ones that creep me out, how one moment you can be having a conversation with a stranger and he pushes for something more – even when you’ve told him you are involved with someone and he has told you about his wife. You are polite in your thank you but no thank you, but it makes the need for a quick escape to the comfort and further safety of your room.
Time to shut down and head to the gate. Catch ya later.
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People Watching
Posted on 04. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
I don’t know if I will ever tire of people watching. The airport is always a good place because no matter how much a person travels, they are doing something outside the every day. Well, unless you work in the travel industry, and have to work on the plane, it’s doubtful that you get on a plane each and every day. Last year at this time, I was doing at least two flights a week, sometimes up to four, but it still wasn’t part of my every day.
People have to wait here. You can’t decide, oh, I don’t want this cheeseburger badly enough to wait in this drive-through line. You have to go somewhere, you have to wait. Maybe that’s what is so interesting in the watching part. Humans are the same in many basic ways, of course, but each person has their own little quirk. So, you never quite know what you will see. I remember the days before electronics and most folks read or talked. You still see books in people’s hands, but usually I see a hand-held device. Some days I wish I had the time to walk around and survey the Blackberries from the IPhones.
I’m curious. I want to know where folks are going, what they are reading, what they are loving about their lives and what they are loathing. It’s part of what attracted me to blogs and later Twitter, the personalities. And how personalities interact. And how the interaction builds community. Bonding can be seen at the airport with strangers as they compare IPhone apps and rolled eyes over delayed flights. Some, simply sit apart, not interacting with anyone, lost within their own thoughts. I see the bonding moments in the Internet Community, at least at times.
The airport is much quieter today than it’s been in a while. Granted, I haven’t traveled much since late December, but I believe the economy is affecting the airline industry, which in turn affects the vendors at the airports, etc. As I went through security today, I was really wondering if TSA would be one of the groups doing layoffs if this keeps up. There seemed to be several extra folks watching me take off half my clothes (jacket, belt, jewelry, shoes), peering at the contents of my purse and briefcase, and then watching me put everything back together.
I worry about the economy like many of you. I know the things I have cut for economy’s sake and I know the things that if I can work into my budget, I will continue to work into my budget so that I can do my tiny part in stimulating the economy….
Time to log off soon and re-pack my gear into my briefcase for the flight. The boarding process is always interesting. It’s a 3 1/2 hour flight. I have some stories rumbling around in my head. I am hopeful I can settle in and write a little. Happy Hump Day Catch you guys later…
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Yeah, On That Creativity Thing
Posted on 03. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
The Ruminator posted tonight about the “blogging lite” exercise of late he has been involved in. And I full understand many of the things he talked about and it fishtails in some ways with a conversation I had with Melissa today (brainstorming during pedicures is the best). Work overtaking so much of your brain, especially if it is involved with writing, often means less personal writing when you do sit down, because, do you really want to see words, let alone sentences? During this last project, I even cut back on one of my all-time favorite pastimes, and that is reading. I read so much during the day, between emails and reviewing pieces of the document, that I didn’t want to read much more beyond my personal email, favorite blogs and Twitter. And that, when you look at it, isn’t about the words but about the people.
But the other comment he made about being at a “way-station” hit as well. I didn’t lock-stock-and-barrel relocate, but I have literally lived out of suitcases from May2006 until recently, although the heaviest periods of travel were this past year. Not being “settled” is sometimes counteractive to a creative soul. I’ve also wondered about age and it’s contributing factor. And the fact that while I can get the ideas into my head, getting it out onto paper – whether journal or virtual, seems more difficult as it is hard to focus.
These past few weeks, I have written more than I have the previous few months. I’m not just writing here and at All Things Girl, I’m hammering away again on short stories, doodling with some poetry, and doing some free writing that will only make it to my paper journal as it was not for the consumption of an audience, but simply for me. I think the last time I did any writing just for myself, to be honest, was after gong to the Pentagon Memorial. I’m also dreaming more, especially the last week. Dreams that I am remembering, though I haven’t been disciplined enough to write my dreams down, at least in my paper journal, like I should. In the past, my dreams have always been good at guiding me and my muses.
Melissa, she mentioned maybe it was because I was settled in one place for so long. I don’t know. She might be right. I’m just happy to have it back. I have to travel the next two days, so we will see. I used to be very productive on flights and most of my 2006 columns as well as a chunk of work on a novel too place during my sequestered time. We will see that as well since the flight time is about three hours.
Creativity for many can be fickle. It can also be all consuming. And it’s tempermental, much like the people who posess it. I know when I get into a writing groove, I get frustrated at any interruption, be it a text message, the dog, or other such truly non-threatening thing. And on days were I am struggling to hang onto it, every possible distraction is almost welcome, as if to save me from my own muse.
I like reading, by the way, what friends are thinking on creativity. It allows me some perspective into how mine behaves as I see how theirs behaves. And it makes me realize that I am not alone.
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Bookish
Posted on 02. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
One of the losses I had in the flood incident were the bookcases in my bedroom. None of the books were damaged, but the task of putting the books in laundry baskets for storage until the room was in shape to install new bookcases reminded me that it was time to sort through again. Some of the books stayed in a laundry basket for eventual transferal to somewhere other than my house (maybe half-price books, maybe Goodwill). Many of my books, of course, I kept.
Some books are series from authors I read. When they were neatly arranged back in my shelves, I realized that four of the series are suspense / mystery. I guess I never got over my first love of series, which were the Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew books. I have replaced all my Trixie books and they are in my closet. There were just too many Nancy’s to duplicate. There are a scattering of romance novels, biographies, history, books of my children’s early childhood and books I consider reference books. There are also classics. Maybe not classics to the world at large, but classics to me. These are the boooks I cannot imagine every parting with.
Among them:
- Black Like Me, by John Howard Griffin. My father went to high school with John, who was a couple of years older than he. John’s 2nd wife was in my father’s graduation class. But that’s not the reason I have kept it since I was a Junior in High School. I kept it because it taught me to look beyond skin color, which is my nature now, but remember I grew up in a small town where, until 1985, there was not a black person that actually lived within the city limits.
- To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. To stand in another’s shoes. I re-read it once or twice a year and always find something new that speaks to me.
- Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. This is the first novels (that wasn’t a “kid” novel) I can recall reading, I believe either in the 5th or 6th grade. The movie is beautiful, but the novel is so much better. Scarlett was a seflish bitch at times, but she also sacrificed much to care for her family.
Of the kid books I have kept, there is Where the Wild Things Are, Goodnight Moon, Cat’s Colors, Harry the Dirty Dog and Madeline.
There are others, of course. Many of those live in my office as opposed to my bedroom. Like Shakespeare’s Complete Works, Flyboys by James Bradley, McCullough’s 1776, Calculated Risk by Jonna Doolittle Hoppes, and a handful of other WWII era biographies and books on aviation that would likely bore you.
It got me to wondering about the books that other readers hang on to. What about you?
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Base Camp One
Posted on 01. Feb, 2009 by Deb.
The gym used to be all about lifting weights. I did cardio, which I’m not a fan of, and rewarded myself with weights. Especially my favorite things: leg press and skull crushers. After being fussed at my a couple of massage therapists about inflexibility in my joints, and then after my “fit test” where I scored “poor” on flexibility, I have been doing workouts with the trainer that are different from any other workouts I have done in the last ten years.
I am shocked, however, that just stretching, doing light cardio and focused lifting that insists upon stability is effective. Effective in that I am losing weight, I am gaining flexibility, my core is growing stronger and my stability (when doing isolated exercises) is growing. It’s why I knew I needed some professional help to get me started – and keep me motivated.
The word of the day, today, seemed to be “isometric“.
But damn, it’s hard, to feel like I am starting back at the beginning. Base Camp One.
In Other News:
The Jan/Feb 2009 Mid-Issue Update of All Things Girl is now live. Some really fabulous stuff. Part Two of our interview with Laura Bell Bundy, Man of the Moment Ben Bailey, some really fabulous short stories and poetry, as well as the introduction of a new columnist and other goodies.
While you are there, be sure and check out my contribution to the Arts Section, which is, frankly, an image I cannot get out of my head: the sheer volume of homeless in DC. He lived outside the Navy Memorial Metro Stop, below $2,000 a month condos steps away from one of my favorite DC spots for dining….
On a more upbeat note, do check out my column, What’s In Your Heart.
Happy Super Bowl Sunday. Hope your week is wonderful!
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Out of the Habit and Inspiration
Posted on 31. Jan, 2009 by Deb.
I almost feel like I am out of the habit of so many of my previously “regular” routine things.
Right this moment, I am mainly thinking about the whole “getting ready” thing. From April until December, I was spending 60+ hours a week with my clients, so having a down day to just bum around was rare. There were many Saturdays and/or Sundays that I still worked. Since I’ve been working from home so much lately, I have forgone dressing up in any ways. It’s not like I hang out in my jammies all the time, but I do tend to dress down, forgo jewelry and skip make-up. Well, except for Mondays when I go to school.
After spending until almost noon (crazy!) in my jammies today, I thought it would be nice of me to actually put make-up beyond lip gloss on, especially since the youngest is entertaining a friend tonight. A boy, by the way, who she insists is just a friend, but all the same, it’s a boy. But I digress. Anyhoo, since there would be other parents coming by for the drop off / pick up, I actually got fully dressed, as if I were going to dinner with a friend, not just hanging out on a Saturday night supervising the dog and two teenage friends.
And since I have been all the way dressed (ya know, jeans, shirt, matching shoes, earrings, make-up, etc) I have gotten so much done. My floundering column solidified for me. The rest of the pieces that needed editing for All Things Girl got edited. Updates I needed to make on the administrative side of ATG was done, I settled in on this design here for the blog, and I’m in a better mood than I have been in for DAYS.
I think it’s my sign that even if I’m not working face-to-face with my clients, it’s ok to wear something beyond very casual and putting on my make-up needs to be back into my regular habit (despite the fact my skin has appreciated the break). I am missing working face to face with my clients, though, if I were to be completely honest. I think my batteries have finally been recharged and I’m ready for more…
By the way, if you need a favor or want something, today is the day to ask. Because I will probably say “sure!”. Actually, I would probably say ’sure’ to you if it was within my abilities. But today, I would say it with absolute sincerity and not just because I like you.
I also got a really long email from a girlfriend of mine who lives in Santa Fe. She spent a couple of weeks in Africa for an extended vacation and came back with a new desire to dig into her own creativity. She asked me if I could help her, and I am reminded that signs are all around us if we will see them. I had just finished my column for ATG (live tomorrow) but it’s about what’s in your heart. And there, right in front of me, were her words asking me if I could help her figure out what is inside her’s.
For months, I have been toying with the idea of exploring another side of my personality – my desire to help other people and my hopes that people that I care about are living in a way that fulfills them. Since she asked if I would help, and I want to see if I can take a passion that I have and flip it into a branch of my business, I believe we are going to embark on an adventure of sorts for me to try my hand out at some guiding while she digs in, explores her creativity, and figures out where her passions really lie. She can be my guinea pig 
I find, to be honest, that working with creative people makes me more creative. I know her and she is inspirational to me anyway simply because she loves life so much. It will be a joy. I think we all need to spend time with people who bring us joy.
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On Work and Passion
Posted on 30. Jan, 2009 by Deb.
Just because I bypassed the word “passion” as one of my words for 2009, doesn’t mean that I have allowed it to slip by me. In fact, the reason that I did pass it by was because I felt as if I had already embraced it well and it had become a part of my being, and therefore wasn’t needed as a focus. It oozes out around me at times, the pure joy I get from things like golf, which I have talked about a lot lately, and to be honest, my work.
Have I mentioned how much I like what I do? It isn’t about one particular contract or overall project, it is, to be honest, the little things. I like my ability to pull things apart and help someone put them together. I love getting to know my clients on a personal level so that I know what their work personality is and what I can do to help them. I like that people bring me in on projects when things have gotten difficult or relationships fractures, because I am damn good at helping repair the fractures. And I think I am good at it because I do want to dig in, get to know the parties involved, and be honest about the situation. My job is to make things happen for someone, even if it’s because I need to tell an THE client that something they want isn’t feasible. I have discovered that honesty is a tremendous asset.
I am often hired as a sub-contractor, so my client actually has a client that I am interacting with. I consider both my client. My client and THE client. I like my relationships with both clients. I find that, even after a project is complete or in another stage where my services aren’t needed directly, I have become friends with them and miss working with them.
Today was a reminder that all the passion that I put into what I do actually makes a difference. A former client – THE client – called to catch up. Say hello, update me on the goings on in her life, and to let me know that they definitely want to work with me again. No matter what the project ends up being, I am interested. Why? Because I love what I do and what I do isn’t about the PROJECT but the people involved in the project. It’s about how I can help them with whatever pieces they have in their current puzzle. It’s about how I interact with them, and make what matters to THEM be what matters most to me when I am working with them. I love knowing that when someone thinks about an upcoming project, they think about me helping them with it because they know that I care.
And that is why I am thankful that my focus of Passion in 2008 showed me that it wasn’t needed as a focus for 2009 because it was there all along. Heart and soul with everything that I do…..
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Do These Groceries Make My Butt Look Big?
Posted on 29. Jan, 2009 by Deb.
Outings with my youngest daughter (find her on Twitter) are always a bit of an adventure. In that, she has a sense of humor much like mine, only much sharper. And she is goofy like me, only cute when she is goofy. And she seems to have this confidence that I wonder if I ever possessed.
Today, I lured her to the grocery store with me, because we all know that teenagers rarely want to go, with the promise of ice cream. it was immediately after school, so her desire for a treat overruled her desire to go home and do whatever it is that teens do when they get home from school. After a brief stop at Sonic, we pulled into Tom Thumb. I needed basics: cheddar slices, eggs, apples, and cottage cheese. I lost her about half way through the store on the pretense of a visit to the restroom. She really lingered at all the Valentine cuteness. She called my cell phone to “find” me because, well, you know, grocery stores these days are just so BIG.
At the checkout, I unload the groceries on the little belt as she ogles the giant cans of Red Bull. I tell the checker hello. She knows my face though she doesn’t remember my name as she is typically working when I go to the grocery. She starts to chuckle a bit and nods her head at my daughter. My daughter who is standing with her head looking over her shoulder. Wiggling her butt a little. Kind of…posing.
She sees us looking at her. And points to the two small round mirrors, that are about hip high and glued to the partition backing the next check-out lane. “So, are these mirrors here so you can check out your own butt?”
Obviously, she had been checking out herself. The checker begins to laugh – hard. I giggle and tell her why they are really there: for the checker to be able to make sure all the groceries are out of the customer’s cart.
She bends down so that she is eye level with the mirror a moment, straightens up, looks at the two of us and says “I still like my reason much better.” And then proceeded to check herself out just one more time before going to the end of the counter to take one of the grocery bags.
When we left, the checker was still chuckling to herself. And now, every time I’m there, I know I’m going to end up taking a glance…..
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Foggy Morning Memories
Posted on 29. Jan, 2009 by Deb.
With the foggy conditions here this morning, I thought it wise that kid and I leave early for school. I haven’t talked about it here, but at semester change, I worked with the counselors and the principals to transfer her to a different campus. The whys and and benefits and negatives are neither here nor there at the moment, but the location of the campus is – it’s in the building where I went to elementary school – and in the neighborhood where I first lived. Instead of being 2 miles from home, this campus is about 12.
We got there early – too early for me to actually drop her off, so we went East by one street and I showed her where my Granny had lived when I was a little girl. My Granny was my dad’s mother. She and my mother didn’t get along and I was not the favorite grandchild, but I know that she loved me and I loved to visit. My Aunt Dot’s kiddos were the favorite grandchildren. I don’t know, now looking back, if I sensed something, or if it was because my mother complained about how Granny favored Dot’s kids. My mother insists that it was because Pop Pop, who died long before I was born, loudly exclaimed that my Aunt Dot’s daughter was the ugliest baby he had ever seen whereas my older sister was the apple of his eye.
I wonder now if it was true, because looking back, it never really showed. Going to Granny’s was always fun. And she always loved me.
She lived close enough, that I could take my bike. She made the best grape and plum jellies, and there was never store bought jelly at her house. We always had pickles, too, which she made as well. Sweet and crispy bread and butter pickles as well as tart and tasty sunshine dill pickles. Oh, and the very best Sweet Tea in the whole world. My memories of spending time with her are mixed in outside play with my cousins, Lawrence Welk on Saturday nights, lots of laughter, shelling peas and amazing food. Even as a little girl, I guess I was food driven. Somewhere around here I have her homemade fudge recipe. Maybe I should dig that out this weekend.
She had two living sisters that lived close enough for us to visit, and their husbands were living. Having older uncles the age that grandpa’s are supposed to be was a great novelty to me because neither of my grandfathers were living. She was Louise. Here sisters were Tena and Bertha. We are southern, so they were “AINT TEENER” and “AINT BER”. Aunt Tena’s husband was Uncle Will and he had a farm outside of town. It was from their farm that the cucumbers and peas and okra came from. Going out there meant playing in the barn and in the hay. Aunt Ber was married to Uncle Cecil. They lived in Ft. Worth, which to a girl from Mansfield, Texas, in the early 1970’s was the big city. Uncle Cecil played the piano and Aunt Ber made cherry jelly, and a visit there meant going home with a small jar. Cherry jelly was even better than grape or plum, maybe because it was so rare.
Sometimes, I think as we age, so many recent memories and stresses crowd out our brains and we forget what it was like when we were little. So, when you are my age – middle aged, I guess is what it would be considered – our to do’s crowd those to the back of our brains. But then, there is a trigger that brings both traces of memories that are lacking in the details. And then there are the triggers that bring floods of memories so detailed that we can hear them, and smell them. And taste them.
I didn’t expect such strong memories this morning. But chance had it that we had a few extra minutes in a life that is usually running at full force, and the few minutes it took to drive down Hamil Street triggered ‘em.