I just returned from a whirlwind weekend of fun and logging miles in Big Dave’s big black truck. After having a great visit and lunch with the folks, I headed out to the wilds of central Georgia for the 25th class reunion with the fabulous women of Wesleyan...the class of 1985. We were Tri-K Pirates...and we were quite a motley little crew. In a good way, of course.
Although I was a little unsure what to expect, Facebook had helped bridge the gap of decades of neglect in the relationships I once enjoyed. When my 1978 slate blue Chevette rumbled off of the campus in 1983...I never really looked back. I wanted to be different…to start over...to look forward. I was ready for a new adventure and it turns out that this was definitely the right decision for me. But coming back...I must admit...felt like coming home.
Wesleyan College is located in Macon, Georgia, approximately 50 miles from my hometown of Thomaston. It was really the only college other than the University of Georgia that I had any true familiarity with...and my only tie to UGA was that my grandfather was a graduate and the football games on television. I really never explored the option of going to UGA, though, because I wasn’t really the university type. Not at the age of 18, anyway.
My roots with Wesleyan College were deep. My mother (who also taught there in the 1970s), maternal grandmother and great-aunt were all graduates, and my great great great grandfather was the first President of the college. His daughter, Ella Pierce Turner, was one of the founders of Alpha Delta Pi sorority – the first sorority founded anywhere – in 1851. Phi Mu was started at Wesleyan the following year. I pledged Phi Mu the Fall after I left Wesleyan at Troy State University and smiled to myself knowing that I remained affiliated with an organization that was founded by other Wesleyannes.
Although two major sororities were founded there, Wesleyan, ironically, no longer has sororities. Each class now serves that purpose, as the traditional class size ranges from 60-75 members. Four class names are rotated: Pirates (aka Tri-K Pirates) with a class color of red, Golden Hearts, Green Knights, and Purple Knights. The class you are in as a freshman is always the same as the departing seniors. In my family, my grandmother and great aunt were Golden Hearts, and my mother and I were Tri-K Pirates…sister classes. (Had Jill attended Wesleyan, she would have been a Green Knight.)
The campus is beautiful with sprawling buildings that have remained virtually unchanged as you drive through the main entrance. There have been additions over the past couple of decades, but entering those gates was like stepping into a point in time that was somewhat unchanged. The rockers were on the Loggia...and although improvements have obviously been made to the existing buildings...there was enough of what I remembered to make me feel like I was 18 again. Even the tea olives were still there. I intentionally planted tea olives all around my pool ten years ago. When they bloom, and the heavenly smell fills the backyard...it reminds me of my days at Wesleyan.
After going down the steps by the Loggia, there is a fountain...as is most appropriate. After all, Wesleyan is “a fountain of knowledge...the oldest and best.” Being the first chartered college for women is quite phenomenal and it has only been a mere 174 years since that founding. The fountain always seemed to be the central place of gathering when something was truly important during my years there. Getting in the fountain and splashing around was absolutely a rite of passage, and was something that I did on more than one occasion. Somehow, I seemed to always be wearing a white dress when I did. On Saturday, one of my classmates didn’t worry about it...she just jumped in with what she had on. Actually, it looked like tremendous fun...but I was hitching a ride, and thought it might be a deterrent to someone considering returning me to the hotel.
Walking into the freshman dorm – Persons – was familiar…yet different. My old room is still there, but attached to it is a bathroom and a whole lot more room than was there when I graced those halls. Long gone are the communal bathrooms and – quite frankly – the freshmen - as it is now a dorm for upperclassmen. The addition of air conditioning was also noted as was the presence of top notch technology. I have no idea how we survived in central Georgia without air conditioning...but somehow we did.
I also noticed that the mailboxes had been moved and a seriously welcoming porch had been added to Banks Hall plus a snack bar and room for just hanging around. When we were there...Banks was only used for practicing piano majors and for the Haunted House during Rat Week. One of my classmates found her old mailbox and discovered that she could open it using the combination from memory. She placed a note to the current box owner in it explaining that she had the box twenty five years before. I can’t even remember my box number...much less the combination.
The subject of Rat came up and it pains me to even go into how they’ve modified that particular tradition. I suppose that I wasn’t as enamored of the whole BEING a Rat as I was about being on the other side...but nobody thought of it as hazing at the time. We thought of it as a very fast education in how to bind together as a class by experiencing or making life totally unbearable for a few days. And bond we did. Now – from what I understand - Rat is more like some sad little Barneyfied version of that grand tradition...but at least nobody’s Mama is calling her attorney to whine that her precious is being treated poorly...so there’s that...
The sounds of the alma mater being sung at the Alumnae Meeting, and of the doxology during lunch reminded me that some traditions are what they are...invaluable. One of my classmates knew she’d tear up at the alma mater...and she did. You don’t tend to appreciate the little things like that when you are a student and wondering exactly when it occurred in the annals of culinary hell that boiled celery became a vegetable. It certainly was served as such in 1981. Another personal (un)favorite was brussel sprouts. Nobody but the student from Norway was especially fond of them...but as I recall...they made frequent appearances. I did learn how to eat broccoli and cauliflower so that I wouldn't starve.
Of course, the beauty of the campus was not particularly evident to those of us who were more concerned about discovering ourselves than admiring the architecture or the huge trees. The small class size and the fact that you tend to know almost everyone is not really seen as a benefit but more of a “given” until you get out there and realize that you had the opportunity to practice and hone skill sets in a laboratory that was indeed competitive, but also very forgiving. In fact, I believe that I did so well my last two years of college because I had overcome the fear of speaking to people. There was really little tolerance for being quiet…primarily because we did everything as a pack, and if you stayed in your room, you missed out on everything. And without males on campus...you had to pretty much participate in everything or die of boredom.
There is a time for everyone to grow up. Sometimes we have to do this faster because of circumstances, and sometimes we can take a slower pace. Being at Wesleyan allowed me the opportunity to be a part of something very special...but gave me enough room to begin to figure out who I was. It began an odyssey that continues today. Because I left after the first two years, I had a different college experience than I would have had I stayed. But my two years at Wesleyan prepared me for sorority life my last two years and gave me a safe place to make mistakes and then begin again in my new college home. I learned that failure isn’t fatal, and that if you really want to have a quality life, you have to apply yourself. I found that all of us have special gifts, the capacity to exceed our own expectations for our lives and that we all doubt ourselves from time to time. I was taught an appreciation for tradition, that just because something is legal doesn’t make it right, and that people will surprise you. I credit my time at Wesleyan with these impressions.
This trip I was able to incorporate my two college experiences…the heritage that I grew up knowing about...including finding my great great great grandfather’s portrait and my great great great aunt’s name on the steps of the fountain (Alpha Delta Pi donated the fountain to Wesleyan…and the names of the founders are on the steps) along with the Phi Mu history that tied me to Wesleyan my last two years of college. Even more amazing was that while we were there, seven Phi Mus from North Georgia College were on campus with their jerseys on just looking around. They ended up taking our picture hanging out of one of my classmates’ red VW Beetle...each assigned to a different camera. I remember thinking...”Those Phi Mus are my sisters...but so are the women in the car. How cool is that?”
I thought that it was fitting that although my daughter is not attending Wesleyan…she is a Phi Mu. For me, intertwining the two college experiences during the weekend was amazingly special. I even found the old Phi Mu photos, pins and ritual books in the Alumnae Building’s Candler Room under glass. In the Loggia, there is a plaque in the shape of a trefoil that was donated by Phi Mu in the 1950s. I passed it every day as a student and never paid it any attention. I was awed to see it because it had significance to me 27 years later.
Equally wonderful was that my classmates came with me on my "treasure hunt" of sorts because they knew that it was important to me. You just have to love friends like that.
My classmates all decided to attend Wesleyan for different reasons. Some came for the scholarship opportunities, after encouragement from alumnae, through active recruitment or because it somehow just seemed right to them. Others wanted a small college and the opportunity to have fewer distractions (ie. males). Others just liked the sisterhood that is and was evident and the deep roots of tradition that exist in almost everything that is done on campus. As for me, it was attending Stunt during my senior year of high school and deciding that I really wanted to walk in the family footsteps. And so I did. Leaving there also felt equally right…and the young man I left Wesleyan to move closer to has been my husband for 25 years this July.
Looking back at the weekend, I remember stating several times how odd it seemed to be walking on the campus after a 27 year hiatus. While I have sent in the pertinent alumnae news (my wedding and the births of my children) and occasionally been able to send a loyalty fund check, I really felt that I had cut the rope that moored me to the college somewhat since I graduated elsewhere. This weekend convinced me otherwise. I am a part of what is Wesleyan, and she certainly is a part of who I am. And I believe that this is exactly as it should be. I am grateful for the encouragement that I received by one of my classmates who insisted, “once a sister…always a sister.” She was right.
We were celebrating our silver reunion year. And for many of us…it has been 25 years or more since we were together. Who we were then is somewhat who we are now...but we've grown in the intervening years into pretty remarkable women. Perhaps it was just time and maturity, or the experiences that life has thrown our way in the intervening years. I liked these women as girls, but I certainly didn't appreciate them like I do now that we are women.
We came together on a small campus at a college in Macon, Georgia in 1981 as eighteen year old girls. Our paths crossed again this past weekend as 47 year old women. All of us were probably a little nervous about seeing each other again, but all of that disintegrated with the laughter, the teasing, and a rendition of “Chick House” (formerly known as “Brick House”) that was pretty dang unforgettable.
There were approximately eighteen of us there...and a member of our big sister Golden Heart class...Sue...who it was also wonderful to see. We traveled from all over the southeast to reconnect and reaffirm our friendships developed at Wesleyan all of those years ago. We all seem to be pretty happy with who we are and what it is that we are doing. That doesn’t mean that we all believe that our lives are perfect or charmed. It means that we have come to a place where we are able to relate to each other without worrying who is a bad influence, who has a bigger share of the popularity pie, or who has chosen to what with their life. To us, it hardly matters. What really mattered to me was seeing the sweet faces of the beautiful women who knew me when I was young. Women who were kind enough not to mention my shortcomings and went out of their way to be supportive.
So, to return the favor...I wanted to thank you all for making the silver reunion such a wonderful experience. Silver may run through our hair a little more than it did...and it does tend to tarnish over time. But it is valuable...and with a little bit of effort...it can be returned to its former lustre. I think we are all pretty much gleaming now...I know that my heart is light, and my spirit is at peace. And this is very, very good.
To my friend Lisa...who is my polar opposite in some ways...thank you for encouraging me to take life by the horns now and quit waiting for “someday.” You may not have realized that you were doing anything other than speaking truth, but you gave me some really great food for thought at a time when I’m really desperate for some food...period (pun intended). I hope that you know that years ago your strengths were the catalyst for making me try harder to be better...much as iron sharpens iron. You have the biggest heart and a love for life, experiences, and travel that is just amazing.
To Libbie...the perfect preppy blonde with a constant smile and a winning personality...thank you for encouraging me to come in spite of my “dropout” status. You and I now seem to have more in common now than we did back then...but you always seemed to accept people at face value and saw the best...and still do. You always had a mischievous streak that I see is still intact...and that totally rocks. (Perhaps not as much as Chaka Khan...or Trapper John...whatever.)
To Michelle...the queen of Zaire...I am not remotely surprised that you are still hysterical and that you are an educator. I think that I never fully appreciated your dry sense of humor and your keen wit then nearly as much as I do now. You do everything with gusto...from plant growing to cake baking. My only regret of this reunion is that I couldn’t partake of the goodies that you made. So help me...when I reach goal weight...I am calling you for whatever is on the rack.
To Carol...the epitome of personality and a real life retired sky goddess...I loved spending time with you and being entertained simultaneously. You have such a zest for life, and you possess a quiet confidence in who you are. Spontaneous and creative...you just jump right in...to life...to the fountain...whatever. Know that your words of encouragement will not be forgotten. I was honored that you not only thought them...but spoke them to me as well. It meant a lot.
To Bern...you are still as put together and imaginative now as you were then. You seemed to have changed very little in some ways...but I'm loving the new hair. You seem to have grown into yourself in a wonderful way. You are a natural ringleader, and you made me laugh...a LOT. Thank you for that.
To Kat...it was so good to see your sweet smiling face, and I appreciate the fact that you returned a letter from my young self to you. It is a priceless keepsake, and it was written at a time when I knew that David was “the one.” I really do wish that you had come to Troy as well, as it really was a wonderful place. I’ll never forget the aluminum pyramid we built back when I could wear a bikini without mortification. Thank you for coming. It was wonderful to see you.
To Rhonda...you are so pulled together and have such a sense of calm about you that it is just comfortable to be in your presence. It was fun seeing you and remembered that I spent my 20th birthday that Spring Break we went home with you. My daughter is now 20! You have a quiet sense of fun, but seem to take in everything that is going on around you...so that you can say something profound at just the right moment. I love that.
To Julie...it was wonderful to see that your sweetness and love for people has not changed a bit. You are still the beautiful girl now that you were then...inside and out. You are so interested in other people and so encouraging. Thank you for describing that amazing dessert that Michelle made so that I would not break my commitment to get this weight off. I’d really love to borrow your metabolism for a decade or two.
To Linda...you are the heart of any group of which you are a part. You also do the things that need to be done...like make pictures so that we could all take home evidence of the fun we shared and also encourage us to compile everything into a format that you’ll use to create something amazing. I also love that you are such a good sport. And, of course...the world's most unlikely "cougar".
Hazel...your art is amazing. So is your commitment to the project for preemies. I love that you saw something that you wanted to learn how to do...and you just mastered it. Not everyone has that kind of courage or that kind of talent. I’m happy that I had the opportunity to purchase some for my home, and I’ll be following that website for others down the road.
Lynne...you still are “Bubbles” to me. Your personality is still well...bubbly...and you still love grabbing life by the tail. Your nap during the Alumnae Meeting totally cracked me up. Mothers of twins have to sleep when there is an opportunity, yes? Polka dots become you, and I’ll just think of them from now on as little “bubbles” instead of dots.
Charlotte...it was fun visiting with you and seeing that pretty red hair shining in the sun. That whole “non-graying” thing has me totally jealous, by the way.
Amy...you obviously have a portrait somewhere aging for you because it certainly isn’t showing. It was very fun to see you again.
To the Annas…I didn’t get much time with you...but it was so nice to see you again.
Thank you for the fun, ladies...and I hope to see you before our 50th. I will be at the 30th, Lord willing. If any of you come through Montgomery, Alabama...the thrilling metropolis that it is (not)...please look me up. I promise to return the favor if I get to your neck of the woods.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Girls
Tonight was a "girls' night" in my little world. That does not mean a pub crawl or a Chippendale's revue either. I just had the opportunity to spend time with friends and kick off what will actually be nearly a week of interacting with various friends past and present.
Tonight, there were five of us having dinner and discussing life in general. We share what is going on in our respective worlds and enjoy a couple of hours of just doing what we girls do best...uplifting and supporting each other. Prior to this, I was given some wonderful outgrown clothes from a friend who is extraordinarily generous...but also far ahead of me in the weight loss journey. That represented another facet of female friendships...we share the wealth. Gladly...graciously...and without coercion.
Tomorrow, I will go to lunch with a friend to celebrate my birthday last month, and it will be fun talking about who knows what. It always is with this friend. Some people just have a welcoming spirit and make you feel at home around them.
The following day will go visit my folks before Mom takes off on a monthlong trip to France to see my sister. I'm totally envious! But I haven't been over in too long as they normally come here to visit with us. Spending time with them will make me happy, and is a great pit stop between here and Macon. (And because I'm directionally impaired...don't tell me if it isn't.)
I will then go to Macon to visit the college I haven't seen since 1983 and to reconnect with wonderful women with which I started out in college life many moons ago when I was a far different person than I am today. Oh, I'm still fun, I guess...but in a far more subdued way. I think that's called "maturity" but I'm not entirely sure.
A couple of days later, I'll then drive home to attend a wedding shower and enjoy looking at a table of what I'm sure will be awesome food that I cannot eat. The room will likely be full of women that I enjoy visiting with, and I'll get to meet the fiancee of a young man that graduated just three years ahead of Jill. Hard to believe.
I'm then traveling to Tuscaloosa to see my baby girl and hang out with her and her three roommates. They probably don't know or care that I am coming...but I've wanted to just camp out up there sometime...and so I'm going to do that. I intend to cook for her and the roommates...and look forward to the time just hanging out.
Anyway, just thinking about all of this has reminded me of how fortunate I am to have the female friends that I do. Some offer amazing support and others just make me laugh. I do what I can to make their journey through life easier, and they certainly enrich mine. While I love the males in my life...it is a totally different dynamic. And having been in a house where I'm outnumbered for the past two years, I've realized that I really just need time to just hang out with the girls.
So, although I have a whirlwind week ahead of me, I suspect that it will be a whole lot of fun and will go by way too fast. I just know that getting out of my routine and making time to hang out with people that I normally don't see except on Facebook or through the occasional phone call or text is something I'm really looking forward to. I mean, whenever you get groups of girls together, we are going to come away encouraged, enlightened, or at least entertained...and there's a lot to be said for that.
So, I'll be on the road for the next few days and may not be writing as much. But I assure you that I'll have plenty to talk about when I get back!
Tonight, there were five of us having dinner and discussing life in general. We share what is going on in our respective worlds and enjoy a couple of hours of just doing what we girls do best...uplifting and supporting each other. Prior to this, I was given some wonderful outgrown clothes from a friend who is extraordinarily generous...but also far ahead of me in the weight loss journey. That represented another facet of female friendships...we share the wealth. Gladly...graciously...and without coercion.
Tomorrow, I will go to lunch with a friend to celebrate my birthday last month, and it will be fun talking about who knows what. It always is with this friend. Some people just have a welcoming spirit and make you feel at home around them.
The following day will go visit my folks before Mom takes off on a monthlong trip to France to see my sister. I'm totally envious! But I haven't been over in too long as they normally come here to visit with us. Spending time with them will make me happy, and is a great pit stop between here and Macon. (And because I'm directionally impaired...don't tell me if it isn't.)
I will then go to Macon to visit the college I haven't seen since 1983 and to reconnect with wonderful women with which I started out in college life many moons ago when I was a far different person than I am today. Oh, I'm still fun, I guess...but in a far more subdued way. I think that's called "maturity" but I'm not entirely sure.
A couple of days later, I'll then drive home to attend a wedding shower and enjoy looking at a table of what I'm sure will be awesome food that I cannot eat. The room will likely be full of women that I enjoy visiting with, and I'll get to meet the fiancee of a young man that graduated just three years ahead of Jill. Hard to believe.
I'm then traveling to Tuscaloosa to see my baby girl and hang out with her and her three roommates. They probably don't know or care that I am coming...but I've wanted to just camp out up there sometime...and so I'm going to do that. I intend to cook for her and the roommates...and look forward to the time just hanging out.
Anyway, just thinking about all of this has reminded me of how fortunate I am to have the female friends that I do. Some offer amazing support and others just make me laugh. I do what I can to make their journey through life easier, and they certainly enrich mine. While I love the males in my life...it is a totally different dynamic. And having been in a house where I'm outnumbered for the past two years, I've realized that I really just need time to just hang out with the girls.
So, although I have a whirlwind week ahead of me, I suspect that it will be a whole lot of fun and will go by way too fast. I just know that getting out of my routine and making time to hang out with people that I normally don't see except on Facebook or through the occasional phone call or text is something I'm really looking forward to. I mean, whenever you get groups of girls together, we are going to come away encouraged, enlightened, or at least entertained...and there's a lot to be said for that.
So, I'll be on the road for the next few days and may not be writing as much. But I assure you that I'll have plenty to talk about when I get back!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Political Correctness
Most people I know do not wake up every morning deciding to do something boneheaded like offend other people. I'm sure that somewhere in the world...there are people who actually live for it, but the majority of us are - quite frankly - too busy to sit and plot ways to upset the people that we come into contact with on an average day.
In the South, we vascillate between not stating the obvious because it might offend someone (bless his heart) and saying exactly what we think (using expressions that are sometimes downright hysterical). When I think of the latter, I think of Dixie Carter's character Julia Sugarbaker. I always wanted to be Julia. She was a magnolia until someone messed with one of her friends or family or was just otherwise intolerable. She didn't have to whisper behind anyone's back...she just said it to their face. Gotta love that. (We'll miss you, Dixie. Thanks for the memories.)
But in America today - despite the fact that most of us have a lineage that is more mutt than purebred - we all seem to be mighty touchy about everything. Granted, people feeling the need to sue over everything has made people a bit more paranoid, but as for me...I've pretty much had enough.
I am an overweight, 47 year old white married female. Over the span of my life, I have been overlooked for certain jobs (until they realized that I was serious and wasn't going anywhere), have tolerated a boss who thought that it was perfectly okay to refer to me as "Babe" (I was 22 and it was definitely closer to the truth than it is now) and was once told that I should be at home raising my kids instead of working (by the same boss.) I was also told "you'd be a dang good secretary if you weren't so ambitious" by another.
In a later job, another senior officer showed me the cover of a travel magazine with a girl in a bikini on it six months after Jill was born and kept telling me that I should strive for that. I later had to apologize to this same Philistine for following my boss' instructions to the letter and not helping him with something that I'd specifically been told not to do for anyone. I had not been rude, out of line or even wrong. I had just offended the sensibilities of an egomaniac.
Once I applied for a job that would have required a move, but would have been perceived as a step up and an exciting opportunity for me. A former coworker received that job...even though I had been employed there, had earned the opportunity and was later told straight up that it was because of my gender.
Did I sue the universe? No. I sucked it up and understood that if God had put me there, He would come through for me. And He has. I could have become bitter, angry, or offended. I just saw those people as the morons they were and let it go. Sometimes it took awhile.
So, when I make a comment that is perhaps more direct than need be, I expect other people to understand that they need to "man up" and quit whining. We are becoming the USOA (United States of Offended Americans) and I for one have had my fill of it.
With regard to race or natural origin, I may be perceived as insensitive because I'm white. Frankly, I often forget that. I assume that all people want to do the best for their families and aren't simply looking for someone to give them something that they didn't earn. But lately in America, that seems to be anything but the case. I'll admit that I am an equal opportunity believer in that everyone who can work...needs to be working...or at least trying to work.
I get annoyed when I see perfectly capable people parking in the handicap spaces just because they borrowed MeeMaw's car for a quick trip to WalMart. (As if there is really any such thing as "a quick trip to WalMart.")
I also find that I am sometimes perceived as insensitive because I don't understand the plight of other groups who truly have borne a lot more scorn than I ever have as a woman. But I will say this...I am a lot more likely to understand if things are explained to me sensitively and sensibly instead of cramming it down my throat or putting it in my face. It also might be more effective if the battles were chosen carefully instead of every single solitary time something even remotely reeks of racism or discrimination.
So, a few things that I would like to dispense with (at the risk of offending anyone reading this).
I'd like for people of color (any color) to remember that we are all Americans. We may identify ourselves as "African Americans," "Asian Americans," "Native Americans," or "Italian Americans," but I'd like to just simplify it to...Americans. I can't keep up with the current terms of what each group wishes to be called or the unwritten - but heavily enforced - rules that state that people of one's own race can call you whatever they want...but nobody else can. Why not just eliminate offensive words across the board?
Wouldn't that be more sane?
For people who are tired of the truth that America was founded on Christian-Jewish principles...please either quietly object by not participating in the national holiday of Christmas or observing Yom Kippur, and quit trying to remove every vestige of our history on the grounds that you are offended. If you are that offended, please feel free to move. I'll help you pack.
I could go on and on, but the truth is...we all have a different prism by which we view life. Some people see everything as a personal attack and others realize that life is hard and sometimes people are crazy. I'm probably more of the latter.
Being overweight has not been a bed of roses, though. People view overweight people as lazy and out of control. Where some part of that dynamic certainly is true...it is often a vicious cycle of using food as a drug that lands people in that state. Medication, depression, trauma, and hormones that go haywire are other causes. I have found that people are incredibly judgmental, and I'll admit to getting my feelings hurt by having someone tell me to quit eating something or ask me how my workouts have been going when it was obvious that they were trying to send me the message that I needed more gym time and to put down the caramel cake. Normally, these comments came from people who have the metabolism of an Olympic runner and have never once worried about the numbers on the scale.
So, let's try to be a little less sensitive and a little more understanding of the fact that sometimes people don't mean to be ignorant...they just need to be gently educated. And for those times that they want to act like a horse's behind...unleash your "inner Julia" and pin them to the wall. Just be sure that you chew them a new one...with class.
In the South, we vascillate between not stating the obvious because it might offend someone (bless his heart) and saying exactly what we think (using expressions that are sometimes downright hysterical). When I think of the latter, I think of Dixie Carter's character Julia Sugarbaker. I always wanted to be Julia. She was a magnolia until someone messed with one of her friends or family or was just otherwise intolerable. She didn't have to whisper behind anyone's back...she just said it to their face. Gotta love that. (We'll miss you, Dixie. Thanks for the memories.)
But in America today - despite the fact that most of us have a lineage that is more mutt than purebred - we all seem to be mighty touchy about everything. Granted, people feeling the need to sue over everything has made people a bit more paranoid, but as for me...I've pretty much had enough.
I am an overweight, 47 year old white married female. Over the span of my life, I have been overlooked for certain jobs (until they realized that I was serious and wasn't going anywhere), have tolerated a boss who thought that it was perfectly okay to refer to me as "Babe" (I was 22 and it was definitely closer to the truth than it is now) and was once told that I should be at home raising my kids instead of working (by the same boss.) I was also told "you'd be a dang good secretary if you weren't so ambitious" by another.
In a later job, another senior officer showed me the cover of a travel magazine with a girl in a bikini on it six months after Jill was born and kept telling me that I should strive for that. I later had to apologize to this same Philistine for following my boss' instructions to the letter and not helping him with something that I'd specifically been told not to do for anyone. I had not been rude, out of line or even wrong. I had just offended the sensibilities of an egomaniac.
Once I applied for a job that would have required a move, but would have been perceived as a step up and an exciting opportunity for me. A former coworker received that job...even though I had been employed there, had earned the opportunity and was later told straight up that it was because of my gender.
Did I sue the universe? No. I sucked it up and understood that if God had put me there, He would come through for me. And He has. I could have become bitter, angry, or offended. I just saw those people as the morons they were and let it go. Sometimes it took awhile.
So, when I make a comment that is perhaps more direct than need be, I expect other people to understand that they need to "man up" and quit whining. We are becoming the USOA (United States of Offended Americans) and I for one have had my fill of it.
With regard to race or natural origin, I may be perceived as insensitive because I'm white. Frankly, I often forget that. I assume that all people want to do the best for their families and aren't simply looking for someone to give them something that they didn't earn. But lately in America, that seems to be anything but the case. I'll admit that I am an equal opportunity believer in that everyone who can work...needs to be working...or at least trying to work.
I get annoyed when I see perfectly capable people parking in the handicap spaces just because they borrowed MeeMaw's car for a quick trip to WalMart. (As if there is really any such thing as "a quick trip to WalMart.")
I also find that I am sometimes perceived as insensitive because I don't understand the plight of other groups who truly have borne a lot more scorn than I ever have as a woman. But I will say this...I am a lot more likely to understand if things are explained to me sensitively and sensibly instead of cramming it down my throat or putting it in my face. It also might be more effective if the battles were chosen carefully instead of every single solitary time something even remotely reeks of racism or discrimination.
So, a few things that I would like to dispense with (at the risk of offending anyone reading this).
I'd like for people of color (any color) to remember that we are all Americans. We may identify ourselves as "African Americans," "Asian Americans," "Native Americans," or "Italian Americans," but I'd like to just simplify it to...Americans. I can't keep up with the current terms of what each group wishes to be called or the unwritten - but heavily enforced - rules that state that people of one's own race can call you whatever they want...but nobody else can. Why not just eliminate offensive words across the board?
Wouldn't that be more sane?
For people who are tired of the truth that America was founded on Christian-Jewish principles...please either quietly object by not participating in the national holiday of Christmas or observing Yom Kippur, and quit trying to remove every vestige of our history on the grounds that you are offended. If you are that offended, please feel free to move. I'll help you pack.
I could go on and on, but the truth is...we all have a different prism by which we view life. Some people see everything as a personal attack and others realize that life is hard and sometimes people are crazy. I'm probably more of the latter.
Being overweight has not been a bed of roses, though. People view overweight people as lazy and out of control. Where some part of that dynamic certainly is true...it is often a vicious cycle of using food as a drug that lands people in that state. Medication, depression, trauma, and hormones that go haywire are other causes. I have found that people are incredibly judgmental, and I'll admit to getting my feelings hurt by having someone tell me to quit eating something or ask me how my workouts have been going when it was obvious that they were trying to send me the message that I needed more gym time and to put down the caramel cake. Normally, these comments came from people who have the metabolism of an Olympic runner and have never once worried about the numbers on the scale.
So, let's try to be a little less sensitive and a little more understanding of the fact that sometimes people don't mean to be ignorant...they just need to be gently educated. And for those times that they want to act like a horse's behind...unleash your "inner Julia" and pin them to the wall. Just be sure that you chew them a new one...with class.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Persons of Interest
I am not so sure about this new term "person of interest" when referring to what we used to call a "suspect" in a criminal case. To me, it reeks of understatement, political correctness, and many of those things that just totally get on my nerves.
The term "person of interest" - in the vocabulary of my little world - is "the individual that either of my children is currently interested in or considering dating." See? That makes far more sense.
This year, my serial monogamist daughter has been unattached. I say "this year" because I will be celebrating the one year anniversary of the breakup of the last one in a few weeks. He was a really nice kid, but by dating him...anyone with any remote interest in asking her out was obviously not going to ask. It took a few months for anyone to figure out that she was really and truly not dating anyone in spite of changing her Facebook status to "single". Several contenders have come to this house to visit her over the past year, and as soon as they did...they somehow disappeared into oblivion. Sometimes it took weeks...most of them, though...days.
At first I thought it was US. I thought that once they met us, they ran screaming for the hills. The truth? She had already decided that this one or that one would not do. In one case, it just didn't work out for another reason...but whatever. Bottom line? If she brings them here...it is like the kiss of death for the relationship. It really should be the other way around, don't you think? I mean...establish the relationship and THEN bring them home. Nope...if they didn't work out here, she really couldn't visualize them working out anywhere else. She's that family -oriented.
Over the past year, I've listened for the change in description, the happy tilt in her voice, and the positive changes that signal that someone with potential is on the horizon. And when they come, I immediately start trying to figure out who they are, where they are from, and how long this one will last. To date, none of them have survived the visit home.
My son, on the other hand, gives me no indication that he wants to date right now at all. He is more quiet and reflective, and he is all about XBox, bike riding, and doing barbecue competitions with his uncle. We were surprised with a cute girl last summer who did an excellent job of drawing him out of his room, but he is simply not ready for all that goes with a relationship. I wish some girls who are looking for the best guy friend they've ever had would ask him to go places with them...because girls need good guy friends at this age and he needs a couple of people to ride with now that the weather has improved. Every now and again I know he's looking by some comment he'll make. But he is storing up his money and carefully guarding his heart...and that's totally fine with me on both counts.
I suppose that until we are calling caterers and renting a church or beachside hotel for the weekend that "persons of interest" will come and go. It has been an excellent education...and I've learned a lot from getting to know each of the sorority sisters, fraternity boys, friends from high school, and random other people that have come into this house along the way. Some of them will always have a special place in my heart, and others are seen in a better light in retrospect than I ever saw them when they were actually here and I was guarding my daughter like a she-wolf. I think that this is good.
In a few short years, both of them could be bringing home the other son and daughter that I always wished for, but was not able to convince Big Dave we needed to raise. Had more children been here, my life would have been fuller, but the two that I have would not have had the opportunities that they don't yet fully appreciate. We were able to do for two what we could not have possibly done for four. So, I'm counting on the other two...and any grandchildren that they might grace us with in the future...to be mine as well as their Mamas' children. And I hope that their Mamas will love my two as their own. Any Mama that wouldn't love my two is either a really cold person or has some serious issues.
So, I suppose in a way, these "persons of interest" are of huge personal interest to me as well. I'm looking to adopt two children of the heart that I've been praying for over the past couple of decades...and to whom I'm willing to trust the children I've raised. For that reason alone, I don't mind having people in and out of this house. I want to see their faces and know their stories. And I want to be able to enthusiastically give my blessing if he comes to talk to her Daddy one day...or to help him plan an elaborate and wonderful proposal so that he doesn't do something cheesy and pathetic. I couldn't bear that.
I know that I'm early in the game...but in truth...you never really know when that person is going to cross the threshold. And so we wait, and hope and pray. We also go on with our lives...enjoying the times that our family has as a cohesive unit of four. And we expect God's best to come down the path one of these days. Probably when we least expect it...
The term "person of interest" - in the vocabulary of my little world - is "the individual that either of my children is currently interested in or considering dating." See? That makes far more sense.
This year, my serial monogamist daughter has been unattached. I say "this year" because I will be celebrating the one year anniversary of the breakup of the last one in a few weeks. He was a really nice kid, but by dating him...anyone with any remote interest in asking her out was obviously not going to ask. It took a few months for anyone to figure out that she was really and truly not dating anyone in spite of changing her Facebook status to "single". Several contenders have come to this house to visit her over the past year, and as soon as they did...they somehow disappeared into oblivion. Sometimes it took weeks...most of them, though...days.
At first I thought it was US. I thought that once they met us, they ran screaming for the hills. The truth? She had already decided that this one or that one would not do. In one case, it just didn't work out for another reason...but whatever. Bottom line? If she brings them here...it is like the kiss of death for the relationship. It really should be the other way around, don't you think? I mean...establish the relationship and THEN bring them home. Nope...if they didn't work out here, she really couldn't visualize them working out anywhere else. She's that family -oriented.
Over the past year, I've listened for the change in description, the happy tilt in her voice, and the positive changes that signal that someone with potential is on the horizon. And when they come, I immediately start trying to figure out who they are, where they are from, and how long this one will last. To date, none of them have survived the visit home.
My son, on the other hand, gives me no indication that he wants to date right now at all. He is more quiet and reflective, and he is all about XBox, bike riding, and doing barbecue competitions with his uncle. We were surprised with a cute girl last summer who did an excellent job of drawing him out of his room, but he is simply not ready for all that goes with a relationship. I wish some girls who are looking for the best guy friend they've ever had would ask him to go places with them...because girls need good guy friends at this age and he needs a couple of people to ride with now that the weather has improved. Every now and again I know he's looking by some comment he'll make. But he is storing up his money and carefully guarding his heart...and that's totally fine with me on both counts.
I suppose that until we are calling caterers and renting a church or beachside hotel for the weekend that "persons of interest" will come and go. It has been an excellent education...and I've learned a lot from getting to know each of the sorority sisters, fraternity boys, friends from high school, and random other people that have come into this house along the way. Some of them will always have a special place in my heart, and others are seen in a better light in retrospect than I ever saw them when they were actually here and I was guarding my daughter like a she-wolf. I think that this is good.
In a few short years, both of them could be bringing home the other son and daughter that I always wished for, but was not able to convince Big Dave we needed to raise. Had more children been here, my life would have been fuller, but the two that I have would not have had the opportunities that they don't yet fully appreciate. We were able to do for two what we could not have possibly done for four. So, I'm counting on the other two...and any grandchildren that they might grace us with in the future...to be mine as well as their Mamas' children. And I hope that their Mamas will love my two as their own. Any Mama that wouldn't love my two is either a really cold person or has some serious issues.
So, I suppose in a way, these "persons of interest" are of huge personal interest to me as well. I'm looking to adopt two children of the heart that I've been praying for over the past couple of decades...and to whom I'm willing to trust the children I've raised. For that reason alone, I don't mind having people in and out of this house. I want to see their faces and know their stories. And I want to be able to enthusiastically give my blessing if he comes to talk to her Daddy one day...or to help him plan an elaborate and wonderful proposal so that he doesn't do something cheesy and pathetic. I couldn't bear that.
I know that I'm early in the game...but in truth...you never really know when that person is going to cross the threshold. And so we wait, and hope and pray. We also go on with our lives...enjoying the times that our family has as a cohesive unit of four. And we expect God's best to come down the path one of these days. Probably when we least expect it...
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Mean Girls
On the news recently there have been two reports that have disturbed me a lot, and then a third walked into my office today in the form of a coworker who was battling the issue through her daughter. Mean girls. We've all met them. Some of us may have even been them.
Right now, three girls are going to be put on trial for tormenting a young girl to the point where she felt that taking her life was the only way out. Another was a case of some cheerleaders who put urine in the soft drink of some girls at a restaurant and then told everyone about it. And my friend's daughter was being encouraged not to talk to this girl or that girl because a very disturbed 6th grade girl thought that if she decreed it...it should be so.
It makes me mad to think about these cases...but it also makes me sad to think that some people who participated in these types of activities might have come to become incredible women but for a brief phase of bullying or being a "queen bee" somewhere in their pasts. And the knowledge and resulting guilt has been used against them by the enemy to make them either overcompensate by being the nicest woman you've ever met...or certainly one of the quietest.
And then there are those that didn't learn then, and you're pretty sure won't learn now. They just carry on in their adult lives...teaching the tricks of the trade to the next generation...and believing their own rhetoric. Sometimes those in their path keep their distance, but others are afraid to disown the friendship out of fear. These women only stop if something brings them down. When it does...as it inevitably will over time...there really is just that moment of elation followed by intense guilt for wondering if you wished it on them.
I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that the teen years seem to be like a giant pie. Imagine that you believed that you deserved a bigger piece than you have...and to get more you will try to obtain it by ripping someone down to the ground, lying, or by intimidation. Popularity is just like this. Diving after a bigger and bigger piece of the pie.
And then you grow up and realize that there are pies everywhere.
Perhaps it is being introduced to someone who sees something in you that nobody else ever saw - a gift that needed to be encouraged. Or maybe you eventually got away from where you grew up and saw that it is possible to appreciate someone else's strengths, gifts and talents immensely...without even remotely diminishing your own.
But day after day, somebody tells a partial truth...and it soon becomes the gospel. A girl is labeled. A lie becomes truth. Perception becomes reality. Mothers spread bad news about a girl she sees as competing with her daughter. How do we break the cycle of mean girls? How do we combat this kind of behavior? And better yet...how do we teach the young women in our lives how to respond?
Well, I've found that it helps to know that more often than not...what comes around goes around. And it it normally ten times worse for the offender than she dished out. I've also found that calling people on the behavior or refusing to participate in it takes is risky...and demands strong character...because to do so might mean that the venom gets shot our way next. But the most effective thing I've found to do is to stand strong, speak the truth, defend those who cannot do it for themselves, and take every opportunity to stop it on the front end, if possible.
I would like to think that the parents of the girls who "doctored" the soft drink would provide their daughters with the opportunity to publicly apologize and then strip them of any and all privileges. I mean, I'd really rather hear that they opened up a giant can of whoop A, but whatever. I hope that the legal action being taken in the other case will not only give those who did that a real hole to dig out of so that perhaps their hearts will be changed and they won't just receive a slap on the wrist. And I hope that my friend's teacher separated her daughter from the 6th grade Cruella at her school. Frankly, she might want to do that if she hasn't...because I know my friend...and she "doesn't play that."
There's really no excuse for trying to damage the emotions, reputation, or property of someone just because you can. That's not what we are called to do or be in this life. God wants so much better for us...and He values every one of us equally. I wish that these girls could fast forward thirty years to see what their lives will look like as a result of the decision to be catty. And I wish some women who seem to relish tearing others down would get back exactly what they deserve...times ten.
But as for me...I want to spend my life building up others when I can and assuming the best about them. After all, we're only reading a chapter in the story of their lives. Redemption is possible, and none of us is perfect. So, teach your daughters well...forgive yourself if need be...and eradicate this behavior when you see it. Perhaps if we are all faithful...the news won't be full of stories like these.
Here's hoping...
Right now, three girls are going to be put on trial for tormenting a young girl to the point where she felt that taking her life was the only way out. Another was a case of some cheerleaders who put urine in the soft drink of some girls at a restaurant and then told everyone about it. And my friend's daughter was being encouraged not to talk to this girl or that girl because a very disturbed 6th grade girl thought that if she decreed it...it should be so.
It makes me mad to think about these cases...but it also makes me sad to think that some people who participated in these types of activities might have come to become incredible women but for a brief phase of bullying or being a "queen bee" somewhere in their pasts. And the knowledge and resulting guilt has been used against them by the enemy to make them either overcompensate by being the nicest woman you've ever met...or certainly one of the quietest.
And then there are those that didn't learn then, and you're pretty sure won't learn now. They just carry on in their adult lives...teaching the tricks of the trade to the next generation...and believing their own rhetoric. Sometimes those in their path keep their distance, but others are afraid to disown the friendship out of fear. These women only stop if something brings them down. When it does...as it inevitably will over time...there really is just that moment of elation followed by intense guilt for wondering if you wished it on them.
I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that the teen years seem to be like a giant pie. Imagine that you believed that you deserved a bigger piece than you have...and to get more you will try to obtain it by ripping someone down to the ground, lying, or by intimidation. Popularity is just like this. Diving after a bigger and bigger piece of the pie.
And then you grow up and realize that there are pies everywhere.
Perhaps it is being introduced to someone who sees something in you that nobody else ever saw - a gift that needed to be encouraged. Or maybe you eventually got away from where you grew up and saw that it is possible to appreciate someone else's strengths, gifts and talents immensely...without even remotely diminishing your own.
But day after day, somebody tells a partial truth...and it soon becomes the gospel. A girl is labeled. A lie becomes truth. Perception becomes reality. Mothers spread bad news about a girl she sees as competing with her daughter. How do we break the cycle of mean girls? How do we combat this kind of behavior? And better yet...how do we teach the young women in our lives how to respond?
Well, I've found that it helps to know that more often than not...what comes around goes around. And it it normally ten times worse for the offender than she dished out. I've also found that calling people on the behavior or refusing to participate in it takes is risky...and demands strong character...because to do so might mean that the venom gets shot our way next. But the most effective thing I've found to do is to stand strong, speak the truth, defend those who cannot do it for themselves, and take every opportunity to stop it on the front end, if possible.
I would like to think that the parents of the girls who "doctored" the soft drink would provide their daughters with the opportunity to publicly apologize and then strip them of any and all privileges. I mean, I'd really rather hear that they opened up a giant can of whoop A, but whatever. I hope that the legal action being taken in the other case will not only give those who did that a real hole to dig out of so that perhaps their hearts will be changed and they won't just receive a slap on the wrist. And I hope that my friend's teacher separated her daughter from the 6th grade Cruella at her school. Frankly, she might want to do that if she hasn't...because I know my friend...and she "doesn't play that."
There's really no excuse for trying to damage the emotions, reputation, or property of someone just because you can. That's not what we are called to do or be in this life. God wants so much better for us...and He values every one of us equally. I wish that these girls could fast forward thirty years to see what their lives will look like as a result of the decision to be catty. And I wish some women who seem to relish tearing others down would get back exactly what they deserve...times ten.
But as for me...I want to spend my life building up others when I can and assuming the best about them. After all, we're only reading a chapter in the story of their lives. Redemption is possible, and none of us is perfect. So, teach your daughters well...forgive yourself if need be...and eradicate this behavior when you see it. Perhaps if we are all faithful...the news won't be full of stories like these.
Here's hoping...
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Ode to B-12
I have been a happy camper for the past three days. It's scary, actually. I am used to having ups and downs, stress and drama, and days ranging from "so-so" to "someone please shoot me." Apparently, the B-12 that I've been taking has kicked into overdrive, and I have finally gotten past the sugar addiction. Yay! doesn't even begin to cover it.
That being said...I have actually enjoyed a few things this week that would have otherwise sent me into a pit of despair or surfing on the waves of self-doubt. I'm sensitive, you know, and we sensitive types are prone to wound-licking and imagined scenarios. But...just so you know...when you are all jacked up on B-12, you do get a rather zen existence. I highly recommend it. (And YES, I am taking the recommended daily amount...so please don't call for an intervention.)
Like that bathing suit discussion I walked up on this week. One of the ladies was discussing how she dreaded purchasing a certain suit. I was pretty much laughing to myself as I said that my swimsuit purchases were limited to buying them for my daughter. I haven't worn a swimsuit without shorts over it since 1988. I'm totally not kidding...and I have a pool. I realize that I could go to the beach and be perfectly fine. Trust me, I've seen some of the sunbathers. But add the lovely paleness to the rest of the picture and it is NO. Just no.
Granted, my pool is currently covered in some kind of green funk as we are trying to decide whether it is the liner that needs to be replaced (okay...it IS in its 10th season) or whether it is a leak in the pipes. The price to replace the liner? A mere $1,300. Shoot, why not buy two at that price! Did I freak out? Were sackcloth and ashes employed? No. Thank you, B-12!
I also wrote out bills this month and am already broke due to a little bit of exuberant buying at Stein Mart and the fact that I get my daily exercise pushing a cart all over Publix, and consider it a workout. Today is the 7th of the month. This does not bode well for the remaining 23 days. But, hopefully the tax refund will come in and I can pay for that liner and will be able to get the dog groomed to boot. Lord knows I don't need to groom Rebel again. Last time I did, he got a mohawk.
But if not, it isn't as though I need to purchase food until June anyway. I have enough food in the freezer, pantry, refrigerator and refrigerator freezer to last at least that long. We're so blessed! Feels that way, anyway! Plus, a box of Triscuits lasts forever when a "serving" is two. Two Triscuits. Two. I mean, I'm more likely to have the heartbreak of staleness rather than the shock of running out. Not that I'd be able to tell a stale Triscuit from a fresh one.
Some people may use exercise to achieve the "runner's high" or sleep a lot to make everything seem a lot better in the morning instead of a vitamin supplement...like I do. I can't say that I've ever gotten anything other than blisters and hyperventilation from running, so that's out. I'm hoping to actually start running eventually just because I can't really do it now. I'm also caught up on my sleep, because if you can't use caffeine or sugar as a crutch, you go with Plan B - which is bed.
So, I'm going to believe that my positive mood is from the fact that I've now lost over 20 pounds, I've had time to myself, my daughter was just home, I like my job (and I have one)...and of course...the B-12. I'm still not brave enough to attempt a bathing suit...but at least I don't care that I can't wear one...and there's something to be said for that.
On the downside, my son and husband just came in and told me that my son's car broke down. Hmmm....maybe I need some more B-12. A lot more...
That being said...I have actually enjoyed a few things this week that would have otherwise sent me into a pit of despair or surfing on the waves of self-doubt. I'm sensitive, you know, and we sensitive types are prone to wound-licking and imagined scenarios. But...just so you know...when you are all jacked up on B-12, you do get a rather zen existence. I highly recommend it. (And YES, I am taking the recommended daily amount...so please don't call for an intervention.)
Like that bathing suit discussion I walked up on this week. One of the ladies was discussing how she dreaded purchasing a certain suit. I was pretty much laughing to myself as I said that my swimsuit purchases were limited to buying them for my daughter. I haven't worn a swimsuit without shorts over it since 1988. I'm totally not kidding...and I have a pool. I realize that I could go to the beach and be perfectly fine. Trust me, I've seen some of the sunbathers. But add the lovely paleness to the rest of the picture and it is NO. Just no.
Granted, my pool is currently covered in some kind of green funk as we are trying to decide whether it is the liner that needs to be replaced (okay...it IS in its 10th season) or whether it is a leak in the pipes. The price to replace the liner? A mere $1,300. Shoot, why not buy two at that price! Did I freak out? Were sackcloth and ashes employed? No. Thank you, B-12!
I also wrote out bills this month and am already broke due to a little bit of exuberant buying at Stein Mart and the fact that I get my daily exercise pushing a cart all over Publix, and consider it a workout. Today is the 7th of the month. This does not bode well for the remaining 23 days. But, hopefully the tax refund will come in and I can pay for that liner and will be able to get the dog groomed to boot. Lord knows I don't need to groom Rebel again. Last time I did, he got a mohawk.
But if not, it isn't as though I need to purchase food until June anyway. I have enough food in the freezer, pantry, refrigerator and refrigerator freezer to last at least that long. We're so blessed! Feels that way, anyway! Plus, a box of Triscuits lasts forever when a "serving" is two. Two Triscuits. Two. I mean, I'm more likely to have the heartbreak of staleness rather than the shock of running out. Not that I'd be able to tell a stale Triscuit from a fresh one.
Some people may use exercise to achieve the "runner's high" or sleep a lot to make everything seem a lot better in the morning instead of a vitamin supplement...like I do. I can't say that I've ever gotten anything other than blisters and hyperventilation from running, so that's out. I'm hoping to actually start running eventually just because I can't really do it now. I'm also caught up on my sleep, because if you can't use caffeine or sugar as a crutch, you go with Plan B - which is bed.
So, I'm going to believe that my positive mood is from the fact that I've now lost over 20 pounds, I've had time to myself, my daughter was just home, I like my job (and I have one)...and of course...the B-12. I'm still not brave enough to attempt a bathing suit...but at least I don't care that I can't wear one...and there's something to be said for that.
On the downside, my son and husband just came in and told me that my son's car broke down. Hmmm....maybe I need some more B-12. A lot more...
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Spring
The upside of Spring is that the weather is gorgeous, flowers are blooming, and the days seem to go on forever. After months of internal hibernation and wanting to just get outside and breathe, the warm temperatures are not only welcome...they are celebrated. The nail salons are crowded again as toes long warmed in socks are released to wiggle free and go from gnarly to glamourous. The sidewalks in the neighborhood are full of Dads and kids with helmets peddling furiously...little white legs in shorts that are too small because Mama hasn't made it to the mall yet for an updated wardrobe...but big smiles that make you laugh to yourself as you cautiously pass by in your car.
The ballpark traffic is back as well including the MeeMaws who come out in droves but are afraid that they'll miss the entrance to the park so they drive 35mph in a 50mph and drive me crazy on my way home every night. Pollen is everywhere and looks like some cosmic butter colored salt shaker has exploded all over the vehicles and patio furniture. People aren't quite whining yet, but a few of them are experiencing the magic of the first sinus infection of the year. Yay! Not.
And, naturally, the dog is in season. Or so I suspect.
There are no fewer than five large "mosquito hawks" - large icky looking spindly legged bugs - desperately trying to get into the house, and the ants have become amazingly industrious over the past week forming large hills all over tarnation. Big Dave's yard needs cutting, and he has something wrong with the lawnmower that needs to be fixed. Great. Too much longer and we'll need a bushhog. There are dandelions out there that are downright spectacular that need to be brought down to size by a major infusion of Roundup or something similar. As long as he stays away from my roses and my tomatoes...all will be well.
I love Spring because it is so full of promise. Much like the beginning of the school year, New Year's Day and the early days of Summer...Spring gives us a chance to regroup. To begin thinking of lazy days of summer...of vacation...of rest from our routines. We are usually invigorated this time of year and ready to clean, reorganize, or - heaven forbid - have a yard sale.
Not that I'm against yard sales...I'm not. I've just never had a whole lot of luck with them on either side. Plus, my competitive spirit kicks in and I turn into someone who wants what someone just bought. Always. If I am on the sales side...people will try to talk me down from a quarter to fifteen cents...and it annoys me so much that I just say "no." It is a form of stress that I cannot seem to overcome. So I just donate or eBay instead.
Spring means that the days are longer, the nights are warmer, and the bugs are more prolific. But it also means that the grill replaces the oven, the bleachers replace the couch, and the warmth replaces the cold. Well, for some of us anyway. My friend, Traci, is still dealing with snow drifts, bless her heart.
I have been filled with a lot of happy thoughts and hope lately. I don't know if it is Spring, or just the fact that God is blessing me with success in the weight loss arena. Whatever it is...I'm glad of it.
In a few weeks, the pollen will have taken its toll on many folks, the weather will turn insanely hot overnight, and we will wish for a brief rainstorm to wash it all away. But for now...I'll enjoy the flowers that have appeared and the promise that is inherent in the seasons that remind us of God's faithfulness to us.
Happy Spring to you!
The ballpark traffic is back as well including the MeeMaws who come out in droves but are afraid that they'll miss the entrance to the park so they drive 35mph in a 50mph and drive me crazy on my way home every night. Pollen is everywhere and looks like some cosmic butter colored salt shaker has exploded all over the vehicles and patio furniture. People aren't quite whining yet, but a few of them are experiencing the magic of the first sinus infection of the year. Yay! Not.
And, naturally, the dog is in season. Or so I suspect.
There are no fewer than five large "mosquito hawks" - large icky looking spindly legged bugs - desperately trying to get into the house, and the ants have become amazingly industrious over the past week forming large hills all over tarnation. Big Dave's yard needs cutting, and he has something wrong with the lawnmower that needs to be fixed. Great. Too much longer and we'll need a bushhog. There are dandelions out there that are downright spectacular that need to be brought down to size by a major infusion of Roundup or something similar. As long as he stays away from my roses and my tomatoes...all will be well.
I love Spring because it is so full of promise. Much like the beginning of the school year, New Year's Day and the early days of Summer...Spring gives us a chance to regroup. To begin thinking of lazy days of summer...of vacation...of rest from our routines. We are usually invigorated this time of year and ready to clean, reorganize, or - heaven forbid - have a yard sale.
Not that I'm against yard sales...I'm not. I've just never had a whole lot of luck with them on either side. Plus, my competitive spirit kicks in and I turn into someone who wants what someone just bought. Always. If I am on the sales side...people will try to talk me down from a quarter to fifteen cents...and it annoys me so much that I just say "no." It is a form of stress that I cannot seem to overcome. So I just donate or eBay instead.
Spring means that the days are longer, the nights are warmer, and the bugs are more prolific. But it also means that the grill replaces the oven, the bleachers replace the couch, and the warmth replaces the cold. Well, for some of us anyway. My friend, Traci, is still dealing with snow drifts, bless her heart.
I have been filled with a lot of happy thoughts and hope lately. I don't know if it is Spring, or just the fact that God is blessing me with success in the weight loss arena. Whatever it is...I'm glad of it.
In a few weeks, the pollen will have taken its toll on many folks, the weather will turn insanely hot overnight, and we will wish for a brief rainstorm to wash it all away. But for now...I'll enjoy the flowers that have appeared and the promise that is inherent in the seasons that remind us of God's faithfulness to us.
Happy Spring to you!
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