Thursday, Nov. 29, 2012

For those who carry a passion, such as I do, for competing in running events, we tow a delicate line of pushing our bodies hard while maintaining a firm grasp on the reality that it can all be taken away from us in an instant due to injury.  Some injuries we recover from quickly.  Others we must wait out.   Still more leave medical professionals and us wondering if our bodies will ever heal.  The latter was the case with me when I had to forfeit one of only two running events in my life.

The forfeiture was caused by a serious injury to my right foot.  Due to continuous racing and competing in harsh conditions that pushed my body to its limits—and sometimes beyond—I’d managed to crush the main vein on the top of my foot so extensively that the specialists I was sent to didn’t know if I’d ever regain full use of my foot.  One thing they did know.  If I participated in my upcoming race, a mere two weeks away, I’d end up on the surgery table, no guarantee that would even help.

I’d trained and trained for this particular event.  And, being the fierce competitor, mostly with myself, that I am, quitting just wasn’t in my vocabulary—until this time.  Faced with the harsh possibility of never having full use of my foot again, I did the only thing that made sense.  I stepped out of the line up for the upcoming race.  Having to do so inspired the following poem I wrote.

In the Blink of An Eye

It hurts so much.

I’m numb, flat, empty and void.

My eyes well up,

 Remembering all the training.

Six months…

Seven days a week…

Four 5K runs…

Two half marathons…

Two full marathons….

Countless, long, boring runs

All in preparation

All as part of my training.

Hundreds of hours sweating.

Thousands of miles run.

Two shiny pennies at the end

They pulled me through it all.

They were to be my reward

The icing on the cake.

But an injury killed the dream.

No taping or bandaging this time will heal me.

The harsh reality sinks in—

I’m screwed!

All that training…for nothing.

Robbed of my fun events

Cheated out of my titles

Frustration overwhelms

My eyes overflow.

The tears begin to fall.

Leaves me feeling vacant inside.

Wednesday, Nov. 28, 2012

Years back, when my oldest daughter was preparing to head off to college, her older brother having moved out two weeks earlier, I felt the aching pain that gnaws at a mother’s innards as she watches her children leave the nest.  The day we did the last of my daughter’s packing, I fought hard to choke back the lump in my throat that made simple thoughts near impossible without taking involuntary strolls down memory lane.  Those had me struggling to hold it together emotionally as I helped one of my best friends, my daughter, prepare to begin her new life. 

By the end of that night, I felt an emotional war had waged within me, me being the loser.  Being a writer, I did the only thing I could.  I took pen to paper and scribed the following poem in a feeble attempt to logically map out the hailstorm of emotions I was feeling. 

Perhaps one or more of you have gone through similar situations.  Felt the same heartache that rips and shreds your insides, pitting your mind upon itself.  Whether you have or haven’t, I hope you enjoy this poem.

New Beginnings

So little time…

Grains of sand fall through an hourglass

Load after load of trash bags carried out

 “Old school papers,” she says, as I choke back a sob.

We circle one another

Mindful lest our paths cross.

Minimal contact

Circling…circling…circling….

Don’t recall the past

Go numb

Secure the floodgates

Don’t crumble.

Hundreds of miles still lie ahead

Hold it together.

Boxes, bags and piles of clothes

Empty hangers

An organized closet.

There’s a crack in the emotional dam

Oh, God!

Go numb

Shut the brain down

Can’t!

Twenty-four hours left

Two weeks ago, a full house

Now, one room empty

Another soon to follow.

Half gone

One last “Gilmore Girls’” road trip

To signal…new beginnings.

Tuesday, Nov. 27, 2012

While standing at the kitchen sink, prepping food to be cooked for our Thanksgiving feast this past weekend, I heard a puzzling sound—the drip, drip, dripping of water and then splashing as it collided with a plastic bag below.  Looking up to the source of the water issue, I tilted my head and said, “Hmmm…that’s not supposed to be happening,” as I viewed a small waterfall of water cascading down the inside of the kitchen window, making lovely patterns as the beads of water raced to the window ledge below. 

Two of my kids were working beside me and also looked up.  Both, as did I, marveled over how there could be water coming down when it wasn’t raining, hadn’t for four days and there was no water running in the house.

In the past, I may have gotten upset.  But not anymore.  Knowing there was nothing I could do about the leak until Monday, I decided to laugh it off and be grateful when the water stopped as suddenly as it had begun. 

Come Monday morning, I was on the phone, figuring out who I should have come and take a look at the problem, which hadn’t reoccurred but needed to be addressed. 

Just a few houses down, there’s a woman who bought a fixer-upper just after I moved in.  Her contractor, one of her friends, is doing a marvelous job renovating the entire house.  He and I became acquainted about a month after I moved in, him impressed as he watched me happily shovel wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of decomposed granite and also pea gravel, weighing in at a whopping four tons, that I used to lay a foundation for my dog run.  Every time the contractor passed by that day, he smiled and would comment that I was working way too hard.  Thus began a friendship.

Ironically, it was that contractor I turned to about the leak over my kitchen sink.  He arrived first thing this morning and spent the next four and a half hours patching up the source of the problem.  He smiled while working, and we talked on and off.  When the job was done, I thanked him and asked what I owed.  His smile broadened as he told me I owed him nothing.  That he was happy to be able to help out.

Tomorrow, rain’s expected.  Not a lot…but enough.  I’m grateful for my friend who was willing to come to my aid and solve what the weather could have turned into a nasty problem.  Let’s hear it for folks’ willingness to help one another! 

Monday, Nov. 26, 2012

Wow, I had an awesome holiday weekend with my kids and granddaughter!  For a couple of weeks prior to our gathering, I took mental notes on things each of my kids would like to have added to the holiday feast as well as activities they’d enjoy partaking in while here. 

The weekend had us hopping…and yet…we did a lot of relaxing and just hanging out with one another as well.  Managed to accomplish all but one of the items the kids had mentioned they’d like to do.  But my favorite part of the weekend had to be watching all of my children get along. 

Whenever my kids, three of whom are now grown, gather, they each tend to revert to being ten to fifteen years their junior.  Least, they do with me.  And this is one of their most endearing qualities.  Whether they’re laughing, goofy dancing, rough-housing, egging each other on, playfully competing, physically challenging, working together or whatever, one thing’s for certain, whenever the Hanna kids gather, there’s an abundance of laughing, smiling and good memories in the making.

It was heartwarming to watch them interact with one another and me.  And the manner in which all my kids attend to my granddaughter…I couldn’t be prouder of how loving, attentive, patient and encouraging they are with her.

Nothing quite compares to the bonds we form with our children.  And nothing should, for they, our children, are our heart and soul.  They brighten our day just by knowing they exist.  And the privilege of watching them grow into amazing individual adults…that’s icing on the cake!    

Friday, Nov. 23, 2012

I hope everyone had a relaxing and fulfilling holiday yesterday.  Even if you don’t celebrate thanksgiving per say, it’s always nice to have a relaxing day. 

My day was filled with preparing to have all my kids and granddaughter come up to stay with me tomorrow through the weekend to celebrate.  It’s gonna be fun to have them all together.  Been a while….

After prepping, I took my dogs and headed out for a walk along the beach.  The weather was perfect.  Wearing shorts, a T-shirt and Ugg boots, I was comfortable.  Blue skies dotted with fluffy white clouds were my canopy while a brilliant blue ocean complete with foaming ocean spray, as waves rolled and crashed towards the shore, created a lovely melody and scenery by which to brighten my journey. 

When my dogs and I headed out, I only planned to go about five miles.  But the day was perfect so I just kept going and going.  Eleven miles later, I’d stopped for a bite at a charming BBQ place in a neighboring city’s harbor for a bite to eat while my dogs laid at my side, the restaurant being dog friendly and offering an outdoor dining area for us.  A lone guitarist played tunes on his instrument while singing along.  Quite charming—really.

Yesterday was a great day!  Full of plans for the upcoming weekend and also a relaxing walk with my pooches. 

I’ll be taking the next few days off from blogging to spend with my family.  Gonna be a houseful…and lots of fun memories in the making.  Check back in with me next week to see what my family weekend entailed.  

Wednesday, Nov. 21, 2012

As I scurry around, preparing for the holiday, I find myself pondering over what I’m grateful for.  Earlier this afternoon, I was in the produce section of the grocery store where another woman was wrestling with a belligerent head of Romaine lettuce that just didn’t want to be stuffed in a clear bag.  Laughing, I commented on how it was being difficult.  Smiling a wicked grin in return, the woman went into an oral commentary of how, if the lettuce wanted a fight, then a fight it would get…but…ultimately, she was going to win.  That got us both laughing. 

Another woman whooshed past us, commenting how she was grateful to not be hosting the holiday this year.  I looked at the lettuce-battling woman.  She smiled and commented, “Then go away, we don’t like you any more.” 

The woman laughed and said, “So nice to be stress free.”

I looked around me, at the hoards of holiday shoppers.  I recalled how there wasn’t an available shopping cart in sight when I entered the store, all in use by hectic customers.  That’s when I asked the woman, “Then why are you here?  And now—the day before Thanksgiving—for heavens sake?”

The woman didn’t reply.  Least not in words.  Instead, she smiled a content smile and headed to the registers, only a couple of items in her hands.

So why do I bring this up.  Simple, because it reminded me of something I’m most grateful for—laughter—the ability to laugh, even when I want to cry and also at those moments when my heart is so overjoyed that I can hardly contain my enthusiasm.  

Tuesday, Nov. 20, 2012

Ah…the holidays….  Good idea to keep them in perspective.  Herald them in.  Rejoice in family and friends that gather round us…even the ones who we cringe at during the events.  After…of course…it all seems to fall into perspective and become laughable.

Too oft, we find ourselves caught up in a whirlwind of holiday madness that has us twisting this way and that with nary a moment to think straight.  Enjoying the holidays…hmmm….that can be a tall order if we’re the one doing the hosting.  Even if we’re not, having to gather with some we don’t get along with can be trying.  

But remember this.  The holidays are meant to be enjoyed.  Not tax us—our wallets, emotions, etc.  Perhaps it’s all the media hype we see about how each of the holidays should roll off as if Martha Stewart and her legion of helpers were at our beckon call.  For most of us, this is unrealistic. 

So what should we do?  Easy.  Chill.  Even if we have to run around and prep for either hosting the holidays ourselves or attending them elsewhere, it’s good to remember this one simple fact.  Keep…them…in…perspective!  If we manage to pull this off, then we’ll likely enjoy the holidays rather than struggling our way through them akin to a non-swimmer trying to keep their head above water.      

Monday, Nov. 19, 2012

Oft, life is a time for reflection.  For looking at our past, appreciating where we currently are and gazing out over our future as if it were a vast ocean, Brobdingnagian in size, each of its waves promising the potential of something powerful or of forces that will lull us into feeling serene.  Life is also a conundrum.  In it we find hope, lost dreams, pleasures, anticipations and excitement so intertwined as to resemble a brier patch.  Some areas are unable to be navigated while others relent, allowing us passage.  Life keeps us guessing—as it should.  Twisting and bowing us to its will. 

Though it may not seem so at times, we are granted influence over how our lives will progress.  Perhaps the best way to explain how is by this quote from M. Scott Peck, MD.  “We must be willing to fail and to appreciate the truth that often, ‘Life is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be lived.’”      

Sunday, Nov. 18, 2012

I appreciate this quote by Vaclav Havel.  “Hope is a state of mind, not of the world.  Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good.”  Hope you do as well….  : -)

Saturday, Nov. 17, 2012

There are times when we have to stand up for those whom we care about.   Matters not if they won’t be pleased with what we have to share.  If we know that something they are about to enter into is questionable, could hurt them or might compromise their integrity or reputation, then, IMHO, we must, must, must stand up and be heard.  To remain silent is equivalent to allowing those we care about to be silently led to slaughter.

This subject comes up between my friends and I all the time, especially when we’re referring to today’s younger generation.  Today’s society not only coaxes our youth to do things that might not be in their best interest, but it glamorizes it more so than ever before in the past.  At least in years gone by, folks had a moral compass, influenced heavily by media and society that helped to guide their decision making process.  Even when not sure of the long-term ramifications of something they might consider, that small little voice inside the youth of yesteryear would niggle away at their thoughts, prompting them to reconsider.  Look at the bigger picture.  Become more informed prior to jumping in.

Today’s youth, however, doesn’t have those same safety nets.  Instead of helping to guide our youth into respectable lives where the choices they make today won’t run the risk of jeopardizing their future, today’s youth is saturated with images and promptings that they should show, flaunt and tell all.  The worst part is, many of the ones prompting our youth to follow this pattern are individuals who are aware of what the long-term ramifications of those decisions might be.  What it may cost the youth.  And yet, these more experienced individuals selfishly encourage the youth to make snap decisions or go in directions, some of the shadows of which they’ll never extricate themselves from.

Not that youth isn’t meant to be a time of exploration and self- discovery.  It is.  But the paths those journeys take shouldn’t lead the follower into realms from which they might not return.  When those of us who have been around longer and gained more life knowledge have the chance to help shed light on what future ramifications of certain acts might include, I believe it is our duty to stand up and speak our voice.  Doesn’t mean today’s will receive or even listen to what we have to share.  But at least we’ll know we were a good friend by trying….  

Friday, Nov. 16, 2012

Here’s some food for fodder.  A little thought that popped into my mind….

To deny who we are—disallow for that which makes us tick—is to lie to ourselves.  For what else can we call it when we delude ourselves into believing that we’re something other than what we are?

Society would have us parade around in cookie cutter acceptable forms worthy of diminishing even the strongest into insignificant invisible beings—one not standing out more than another.  Instead of this degradation, society should applaud, appreciate and encourage diversity—those qualities that cause individuals to shine as the brilliant stars they were meant to be. 

Without the glow of those radiant stars to illuminate our night skies, many would stumble about, blinded by the darkness.

Thursday, Nov. 15, 2012

Today’s blog will wrap up a three-day entry on the kindness of strangers.  With my last two entries, I told how complete strangers had been generous.  Then I, preoccupied with trying to find the owner of a stray beagle, ended up leaving behind my purse that I’d slung over the back of an outdoor chair I’d sat in to dine. Didn’t realize this tidbit of bad news until half an hour later.  As soon as I did, I put in a call to the owner of the pizzeria where I’d dined, hoping upon all hope that my purse might still be there…or at least parts of its contents….

The owner of the pizzeria said he recalled me and where I’d sat and went to look for my purse while I waited, holding my breath.  An eternity transpired before he came back on the line and delivered the bad news that my purse—along with all its contents—was gone.  Somehow I managed to keep it together, my friend drove us back to the pizzeria on the off chance that the purse may have been returned by then.  Or, if it hadn’t, at least we could look in nearby dumpsters to try to reclaim any of its contents.  Much to my surprise, I remained calm during that long drive back, due in great part to my friend’s totally collected demeanor that rolled out the vibe that somehow all this would work out okay.

Arriving at the pizzeria, I spotted the owner heading to his car with an armload of items.  He motioned with his head for my friend and I to go into his restaurant.  Stepping through the door, my gaze instantly fell upon one of the several employees who were milling behind the counter, doing various jobs.  Just prior to entering the pizzeria, I felt despair seeping in.  But then, the strong urge to look at that single employee washed all my dread away.  Couldn’t tell you why.  Just did.

As my friend and I got halfway from the door to the counter, that employee reached behind the counter and withdrew my purse.  At the sight of it, my legs felt weak, me beyond grateful for his find.  My mind still reeling, the man explained how he’d seen my friend and I leave and then noticed my purse still on the back of the chair.  Knowing it wouldn’t remain, he rushed out to claim it and put it safely in the shop, hoping I’d return.  He went on to explain how the manager hadn’t asked any other employees if they’d found my purse when I’d called earlier, so, not finding it himself, the manager thought it gone for good.

Taking my purse from the man, gratitude exuding from every pore, I was rendered speechless for a moment or two.  All I could manage was an appreciative deep bow of my head and sincere look that I hoped would express all that I was feeling.  The man handed me my purse, our fingers touching for a moment.  In that second, I could tell.  He knew….  The employee was keenly aware of what it would have cost me to have lost my purse and was beyond grateful to have been there to do the right thing. 

Much to my dismay, I didn’t offer the man a reward above and beyond my thanks and a grateful smile, too intent on catching a glimpse of the clock and realizing that there still might be time for my friend to make it to their interview and earn the money they needed.  Heading out, joy, relief, gratefulness and a plethora of other emotions coursed through me, exhilarating and draining me in the process.

My friend made it to their interview and received the money they needed.  During, I stayed in the car, giving silent thanks for the kindness of strangers that I’d experienced today. 

When my friend’s interview was over, I asked if we might call to see if the pizzeria was still open.  I explained that I needed to set straight the omission of a reward. I called and was told that we’d just be able to make it back prior to the pizzeria closing.  I was also told that the employee who had found my purse had already left for the day but that the manager would be happy to take an envelope for him. 

Arriving at the quaint mom-and-pop pizzeria for the third time today, I handed the manager an envelope with the employee’s name written on it along with a brief note.  In my message, I thanked the man for reinforcing my belief that good people still walk amongst us.  Inside the envelope, I placed every bit of cash I had in my purse.  My thought was that the money no longer belonged to me and needed to go to the one who had saved me an immense amount of headaches by simply doing the right thing. 

Today has left me with an immense feeling of gratitude for having experienced so many glimpses of the kindness of strangers.      

Wednesday, Nov. 14, 2012

Today, I’ll pick up where my story yesterday left off—my friend and I entering an adventure where things took an unexpected turn that had me nearly throwing up with dread.  The first part of our experience had gone well enough…in fact, even more so, us having discovered an amazing kosher deli where the owner loaded us up with free food as they were closing for the day.  Then, traffic continued to hold, us arriving near our next destination with almost half an hour to spare.  Having extra time on our hands, my friend and I spotted a fireplace store and decided to make a stop so I could pick up a couple of items I needed for my new house.

Pulling up to the curb, my friend opted to remain with the truck while I ran in.  Opening the car door, I reached for my purse.  That’s when my pulse quickened, heart tried to stop, brain refused to fully compute what had happened and I felt the world slowly slip askew as I recalled having hung my purse over the back of the chair at the mom-and-pop pizzeria my friend and I had stopped at.  Scanning the car seat, me now out of the vehicle, I realized, with a sickening realization, that I hadn’t reclaimed my purse when we’d left, too interested in helping a lost dog find its owner before it got struck by a car.

M stomach doing somersaults, my mouth going dry and my mind racing over the immense mess having lost my purse would create, I was calmed when my friend offered to call the pizzeria to see if they’d found my purse.  We made the call, me speaking to the owner.  But, though he remembered who I was and where I’d sat, he went out to find my purse, which…of course…was no longer there, at least half an hour having expired.

My heart sank and head reeled as the harsh realities of what this would mean sank in.  But I held it together, mentally beginning the long list of what I’d have to do and whom I’d have to call to set all this straight.  In the meantime, my friend calmly started the car and turned it around, heading away from the interview where they needed to be.  When I questioned this, I was told that it was worth a shot to go back to the pizzeria.  That perhaps someone had found my purse—or some of its contents—and would turn it into the owner.

I was grateful for my friend’s willingness to help my situation but felt horribly guilty that to do so would cost them not only the interview they were to attend but also a good amount of money as a result.  My friend brushed off my concerns and headed towards the pizzeria.  Meanwhile, I tried to keep my kosher meal from heaving its way out of me.  I was grateful for my friend’s calm demeanor and them not casting judgment on my having been forgetful.  (Did I mention this is only the second time in my life that I’d misplaced my purse?)

I was surprised at how calm I remained, due in great part to my friend also remaining calm and matter-of-fact.  Their attitude was simple.  Either the purse would be there…or not.  All or part of it might resurface…or not.  No sense getting upset until we knew for sure the quest for my purse was a total lost cause.  I liked that mentality.  Calmed me to my core.

My friend and I pulled up to the pizzeria a short time later and once again, our day took an absolute turn from what we’d expected….

Turn in tomorrow for the conclusion of my lost purse story.

Tuesday, Nov. 13, 2012

There are times when everything just sort of…clicks.  When the universe seems to have taken a step back in time to a gentler one.  One where folks not only cared about others but looked out for complete strangers.  Today I was blessed with experiencing one of those.

Instead of spending the day alone, I decided to tag along with a friend who had a bunch of driving in order to get some jobs accomplished.  It was such a gorgeous day for a drive.  Blue skies blinked with dotted white clouds and warm temps that kissed one’s skin with a refreshing whisper.  Couldn’t get much better….

Mid afternoon was to see us heading out together.  A bit of a delay, however, originated when my friend locked their keys in their truck while awaiting a heavy shipment to be loaded into their truck bed—one of the deliveries they had to make.  A simple call to AAA, and my friend watched the goods be loaded onto their truck while AAA came to unlock said vehicle.  We met a short time later and were off for an adventure that turned out to be anything but what we’d expected.

The delivery of goods went as planned.  No traffic along the route and a smooth unload.  Things having gone so well, my friend and I had just enough time to stop for a late lunch prior to our next destination.  Having noticed an enticing kosher deli on the way to make the delivery, that was where we opted to dine.

But, it being later afternoon by the time we arrived, my friend and I were greeted with the place going through the motions of closing down for the day.  We weren’t upset.  Just smiled at the owners and told them we hoped we had a chance to stop by another time while they were still open.  The woman owner returned our smile and asked us to wait a minute.  That if we liked, she’d load us up with all the leftover food of the day (the place is an all-you-can-eat Kosher deli).  My friend and I were surprised, even more so when the woman, still smiling, insisted that we take the two overflowing containers, containing stuffed chicken and dumplings, and pay her nothing in return. 

We graciously accepted the food, bowing our gratitude in return, and headed a couple of doors down to sit at the outside table of a mom-and-pop pizzeria where we purchased beverages to have with our meal.  The owner of that establishment was just as friendly as the other owners had been and, though we hadn’t purchased our food from him, offered to let us sit inside.  Since the day was still splendid, we said thanks but declined, opting to take advantage of the warm afternoon and dine al fresco. 

Our meal was quite the feast with enough food to satisfy my friend and I as well as provide us leftovers to take home.  Having eaten our fill, we headed back to my friend’s truck to head to the next stop—an interview that would tie up my friend for a couple of hours, me finding something to do in the meantime.  Thankfully, I enjoy reading and had brought a book, something I usually carry with me.

Along the way, we stopped at a fireplace store so I could run in and pick up a couple of items I needed for my new house.  That’s when things took an unexpected turn that had me nearly throwing up with dread.

Tune in tomorrow to see what happened….

Monday, Nov. 12, 2012

There are those who subscribe to the mentality that it’s best to live in the moment—no past or future clouding one’s vision.  I believe that to do so is good…for a spell…but only brief pockets of time.  So why not all the time?  Why not lose one’s past and fail to focus on the future?

To lose sight of our past is to run the risk of repeating old mistakes.  Also, by forgetting the road that’s led us to where we are now, we may fail to retain lessons learned along the way.  To do either puts us at risk of careening off our path into unchartered waters that might be better left un-navigated.

What about neglecting to focus on the future?  When we fail to seek the future, the rewards and disappointments it may hold, we risk becoming ensnared in a tangled web of lost hope.  For without a future—something to look forward to—why would we strive to be more than we are in this very moment?

I believe life is a package deal, meaning that our past, present and future are so closely intertwined that to attempt to amputate one runs the risk of depleting the very essence of who we are…have been…and may become in the future.  

Sunday, Nov.11, 2012

There are passages in life when I’m more drawn to poetry than others.  Course, give me a cold day, me curled up in front of a fire, and I’m even more inclined….  LOL.  Flipping through the pages of some of my poetry books, this poem called to me today.  It’s by Elizabeth Alexander.  I realize that the grammar and punctuation are not top rate, but have copied the poem in its original printed form to maintain the integrity of the author’s intent. 

“A Poem for Nelson Mandela

Here where I live it is Sunday.

From my room I hear black

Children playing between houses

And the El at the Sabbath rattle.

I smell barbecue from every direction

And hear black hands tolling church bells,

Hear wind hissing through elm trees

Through dry grasses.

                                    On a rooftop of a prison

In South Africa Nelson Mandela

Tends garden and has a birthday,

As my Jamaican grandfather in Harlem, New York

Raises tomatoes and turns ninety-one.

I have taken touch for granted: my grandfather’s hands,

His shoulders, his pajamas which smell of vitamin pills.

I have taken a lover’s touch for granted,

Recall my lover’s touch from this morning

As Mandela’s wife pulls memories through years

And years my life is black and filled with fortune.

Nelson Mandela is with me because I believe

In symbols, symbols bear power, symbols demand

Power, and that is how a nation

Follows a man who leads from prison

And cannot speak to them.  Nelson Mandela

Is with me because I am a black girl

Who honors her elders, who loves

Her grandfather who is a black daughter

As Mandela’s daughters are black

Daughters.  This is Philadelphia

And I see this Sunday clean. 

Saturday, Nov. 10, 2012

The irony of this quote by Thomas Kinkade struck me today.  “I like to think of hope as a guiding light for the human heart.  It is the quality that will help you find your way through dark and stormy nights, through foggy and confusing days.”  Normally, the deeper, in-between-the-lines part of a quote speaks to me.  Today, the more literal version applied.  Why?  Well, having just moved, today was the first time I needed to use my house heater, a cold front and blustery winds having affronted my area.  And what to my wondering eyes should appear when I tried to start said house heater?  Nothing…well…not really. 

Though the pilot is lit, it’s not properly igniting the furnace plate (think that what it’s called).  The result?  Two piddly little flames, spaced far apart that aren’t warming the house.  The side effects of that?  If I do have the heater on, then it blows cold air as if it’s refrigerated.  Not so wonderful when one is attempting to stay warm.  LOL.

So, throwing log after log in the fireplace to help warm my house, I pretending I’m camping…indoors.  LOL.  Seems a strange mentality, but it beats the alternative of getting upset due to a nonworking heater.

Oh, and did I mention that this is a holiday weekend?  As such, I won’t be able to get a call in to have repairs until Tuesday.  But that’s not too bad….  The weather forecast does indicate that temps are due to rise, though slowly, over the next few days.

In the meantime…it’s continued camping mode and remembering how, “I like to think of hope as a guiding light for the human heart.  It is the quality that will help you find your way through dark and stormy nights, through foggy and confusing days.”  So what’s my hope?  Simple.  That come Tuesday, I’ll be able to get a repairman out here sooner rather than later to fix my ailing heater.  LOL.    

Friday, Nov. 9, 2012

Is it more appropriate to lower our expectations of others, or hold them to the same high standards to which we subscribe?  I find myself asking this question on a regular basis. 

On the one hand, if we expect a lot from others, we do the disservice of setting ourselves up for disappointment.  But…on the other hand, to lower our expectations, giving into the mentality that many don’t care, look for the easy way out and are quick to pass the buck, can leave us feeling…empty, as if some major component in the universe got off-kilter and we don’t know quite what to do to set it straight.

Is this where hope comes in?  Do we maintain our high expectations, knowing they might not be met, while maintaining a level of hope that we may be pleasantly surprised?  And if this is what the world’s come to, why?  Why is it so hard for many to say what they mean and then follow through with it?  Or to treat customers with the same level of curtsey that they themselves would appreciate.  Or here’s a novel idea.  How about folks do the job they were hired to do rather than looking for every opportunity to cut corners, pass the buck or worse, cheat those who come to them in good faith?

When did caring about others and taking pride in a job well done go out of fashion?   

Thursday, Nov. 8, 2012

Not sure if any of you have ever read books written by Christopher Moore.  They’re witty, in an off-color sort of way.  He writes about seemingly common subjects that affect us all, yet puts an iiiinnnnteresting spin on all his works. 

Case in point, I’m currently reading Lamb.  It’s the story of the gospel.  But this version is unlike any you’ve ever read.  Why?  Well, as Christopher More tells it, this version is according to Biff, Christ’s best childhood pal.  And like any two young boys will do, these two get into quite a few pickles, though, Biff’s friend being the son of God and all, they’re able to wiggle their way out of most sticky situations they fall into. 

And when the boys, now in their early teens, go out to help Christ discover his life’s purpose, things escalate.  No longer satisfied with the childhood pastime of holding a lizard in his mouth, then handing it to his friend Biff, who bashes it over the head, killing it, only to resurrect it, Christ’s abilities and curiosity have…escalated.

According to God’s will, Christ is told, via an angel messenger, that he is not to lay with a woman.  So…what’s a best pal to do but help “walk” Christ through what it feels like to have sex with a woman. So, as Christ listens on from the adjoining stable stall, Biff has sex with prostitutes, helpfully giving a verbal play-by-play accounting throughout to his listening friend, Christ, who after a stream of prostitutes and having used almost all their travel money, still hasn’t a clue what it feels like to have sex.

Moore’s narrative is original, innocent, full of tongue-in-cheek and will surprise you when the child in you is once again awakened to rediscover the innocent thoughts that only children have about the world and its inhabitants.