women

Today It’s All About Other Bloggers!

December 8, 2011 by admin

This morning we’re off to beautiful Victoria, B.C., where I hope we will have tea at the Empress! Yum! We will drive to Port Angeles and take the ferry over. It will be a lovely break from all the house hunting (we may have found another one, but I won’t say more for now). In the meantime, it’s Thursday, so it’s my usual day to applaud other bloggers. Today, though, as part of accepting the recent blog award from Jodi Aman, I won’t just pick one! Nope, today I get the pleasure of mentioning several of my favorites. I’ve mentioned some of these before, but they bear repeating.

By the way, Jodi not only has a great blog, but has also shared a wonderful list of bloggers. I recommend that you take a peek at Heal Now and Forever if you haven’t yet!

Without further ado, here are some, though not all, of my faves:

Zencherry – The Zen Corner – For making me laugh and recalling the warmth and spirit of Erma Bombeck.

Over 50 and Happy – Nina Knox is such a joy, always positive and filled with effervescent life.

Totsymae – Totsymae has one of the most intriguing and original voices in the blogosphere today. She’s also one heck of an artist.

Presence of Magic – When you’re feeling down or discouraged, come here for a gentle, angelic lift.

From Agoraphobia to Zen – Marilyn Mendoza shares her honest struggle of living with agoraphobia. As someone who lives with an anxiety disorder, too, I relate to her struggles and applaud her triumphs.

GrrlGuide – Thought-provoking, interesting, meaty blog posts.

Writing and Living – Richard Hughes is not only a fine writer, but is a supporter and cheerleader for other writers as well. It’s been a pleasure to get to know his work these past few months.

Renovating Rita – A woman of resilience, intelligence, and grace. I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned her blog here before — sorry, Rita, a mention of you is way overdue!

Thus Spake the Hermudgeon – You’ll love the Hermudgeon as much as I do. She’s warm and generous, and has maintained her sense of humor despite a challenging cancer battle.

That’s more than seven, but I could just keep going. To my blogger friends, if you’re not listed here today, I’ll be back next week with more recommendations! Have a great weekend!

Hello, Monday!

December 5, 2011 by admin

I usually start with “good morning,” but it’s getting later and later, even here in Washington State. I’m on Port Townsend time, so I’m running late. A local hair salon indicates on its window that it opens at eleven-ish, so I think I’ll adopt the local lifestyle.

I spent the bulk of my weekend on a yoga mat under the tutelage of Angela Farmer. She affirmed my own approach to yoga, which is more internal, with strength and fitness a byproduct rather than the goal. We spent a lot of time focusing on areas in the body that hold tension, and with love and gentleness, invited them to unwind. My body happily responded to the nourishment; my monkey mind, with its endless chatter, is still trying to “figure out” what happened over the weekend. I shrug and say, “I’m all right,” while mind sputters with “But…but…but…”

With Farmer’s method, we travel with the body into a pose. At the first sign of tension, we stop and hang out for a while, listening to the “voice” of the tension and wriggling the tight area to invite it to release. By not forcing ourselves, and by letting go more and more, the body will use its own wisdom to release, allowing us to go farther into a pose than we thought possible.

The weekend with Angela Farmer and 35 of my new best friends taught me nothing new — and yet, it was worthwhile for reminding me of what I already know, and what my body understands even as my mind argues and frets. Any time we feel stress or strain, we can stop, breathe deeply into our backs, and reconnect our roots with the earth. As we guide ourselves with compassion back to our center, we can do the difficult tasks with a cheerful heart. This week we will do more work to get the house deal done, and I’m glad to have these reminders now!

Normally I have a theme in mind for the week, but I think in keeping with the spirit of the weekend, I”m going to hang loose and see what comes up day by day. It feels good to let go.

Thursday Books & Blogs

December 1, 2011 by admin

Good morning! As we prepare for another visit to our future hometown, we are also in the midst of listing our Houston house for sale. This morning the photographer comes, so the house is eerily tidy. The new house deal remains alive at this time — yay! Yeah, I’ve made peace with whatever happens, as I mentioned yesterday, but I won’t kid you. It’s a cool house, and I really hope it works out. We’ll see!

This coming weekend is my birthday weekend (Sunday is the day!), and I’ve given myself the present of taking a yoga workshop with the legendary Angela Farmer. Angela, now over 70, has been a dynamic force in expanding “feminine” yoga, yoga that expands on ancient traditions taught primarily by males for males. I took a class from her back in 2004 during a conference, and I treasure several moments from that class. I also thought it would be a great way to meet some people in the community in an intimate setting.

By the way, if you like yoga and haven’t seen the Yogawoman DVD, I highly recommend it. Angela Farmer appears in this video as one of many female yoga pioneers.

In books, this past week I finished The Time Travel Journals: Shipbuilder by Marleen Dotterer. The shipbuilder refers to Thomas Andrews, who oversaw the building of the Titanic. In this captivating tale, Sam Altair, a scientist experimenting with time travel, accidentally sends himself back to 19o6. Worse, he unwittingly takes with him Casey Wilson, a university student. I won’t go into how they connect to Andrews, but I will tell you that Dotterer handles time travel in a way I haven’t seen before. Altair and Wilson, rather than trying to avoid changing history, actively work to do so. The tension builds gradually to a powerful climax, and there’s a sweet love story, too! I loved it, and I hope you will, too.

Here’s another treat for you: The Art of an Improbable Life, a blog by Becky Green Aaronson and her husband, Jeffrey, who have created for themselves a unique, rich life that spans the globe. In this blog, you’ll find gorgeous photos and interesting essays. This week’s post shares the story of Lori Robinson, “Africa’s Beautiful Bag Lady,” and it’s a good one. Check it out if you get a chance.

I’m going to suspend Friday Fiction for now, but it will return sometime after the holiday season. I’m currently revising Blood and Loam and will start posting it once I feel that it’s ready for viewing. Unfortunately, it’s been taking me longer than I expected! This has been a difficult, challenging novel to write, requiring more research than what I’m used to and punching all my personal buttons. If I can pull it off, it will be a fascinating book, but it’s demanding more of me as a writer than anything I’ve ever done.

Have a great weekend! Next week I’ll be sharing adventures from Washington State — I’ll try to include plenty of pics.

Holiday (House) Shopping

November 30, 2011 by admin

I was going to write a definitive piece about Black Friday and the holiday shopping insanity, but I found myself chasing another butterfly this morning. Several other bloggers have already done a fine job. Besides, being Jewish, I tend to just stay out of the malls in December, preferring instead to hide under my bed until mid-January, when the returns and post-holiday sales have passed. I am also guessing that someone willing to pepper spray other shoppers probably doesn’t read this blog.

I’ve never liked to shop. I get overwhelmed when I go into stores. If I can buy something that I need online, more the better. And this month I am in the midst of one of the most stress-inducing forms of shopping known to man: house buying.

We have found, and fallen in love with, a house in our new home town. The size is right, the layout is perfect, and it offers drop-dead gorgeous views of water in two directions. Sitting in it, we watch ships go by. Clouds shift and change by the minute. For two people who work from home, having a view is a major plus. Right now hubby works in a sun room that overlooks my garden, and he likes to watch the squirrels, butterflies, bees, and birds flitting around. We eat breakfast and lunch in this room, and we never tire of nature’s exuberance that is always on display.

While I can’t pretend to speak for all women (I hate to shop, after all), I guess that many of us want our nest to be just right. Home is our sanctuary, a place where we can create happy memories to echo beyond our generation into the future. In our homes, we create traditions, we kiss hurts, we laugh, we cry, we sing, and sometimes we do all of that in a ten-minute period! We hang photographs of smiling faces and dream of grandchildren. I love having my own home, painting it with colors I like, and not having to worry about doing something that displeases the landlord. Home is where the heart is, indeed.

Unless, of course, you’re buying a house. After the initial thrill of seeing it for the first time, we have to start kicking its tires. We review and inspect. We mentally arrange our furniture in the rooms while critically eyeing the slope of a floor. We balance our longing for the future life we’ve already imagined with the cold reality of whether or not the repairs are worth the cost.

I’ve always loved old homes, and this is my blessing and curse. Old homes have character and stories in their walls. In the home I live in now, I felt from the time I first stepped into it that it had been a happy one. A young family moved into it, and the children grew up and left home. After years of marriage, the husband succumbed to cancer, and his widow sold it to us, passing along more than 40 years of history to us. I still feel this family in the walls of the house, as though their joy left a permanent imprint.

Yet an old home must have “good bones.” Inspections have revealed some issues with the “new” house that look more like osteoporosis to me. We are hoping for the best, but this morning I knew when I woke that my head must balance my heart. My business sense kicked in, and I made requests to our realtor that may break the deal. It felt right, and I felt empowered. In my younger days, I often let love talk me into bad decisions, and I am grateful not to do that anymore. Self-love and self-respect have replaced need, and I knew that I could let the house go, if that is what is best. Thank God these gray hairs are good for something!

If the deal does fall through, the part of me that already imagined living there will hurt — but I have been around long enough to know that if this one doesn’t work, we will find another. At worst, we will rent a home for a while until we find one that works. In the meantime, though, we will have each other, our family photos, our memories, and our dreams…and that is home enough.

As I read this, maybe it’s more about holiday shopping than I realized. We can apply the same principles: are we willing to compromise our values to get a certain item for a certain price? Do we operate from need or self-respect? Are we willing to walk away from a purchase if that’s the right thing to do, regardless of what emotional attachment we may have? And finally, what is truly important to us? Is it a “thing” that creates the joy in our lives, or is it the experience of being together, of loving each other, wherever that is, that matters?

Hello, Gorgeous! Great Hat!

November 9, 2011 by admin

A few weeks ago I wrote “Sometimes It’s More Than a Hat,” the story of how I walked out of a New York City boutique WITHOUT a hat that gave me a sense of Streisand-like glamour. I lamented the ways I favor practicality over self-expression, even when I don’t have to.

I heard from a lot of you after writing that post. We all have our hats, it seems, those things we deny ourselves, whether it’s a piece of clothing or a long-desired dream. I’ve learned that even in my 50s, when I think I know myself pretty well, I can find new aspects of self. I discovered at 51 that I like to garden…and now I have discovered a more feminine side. As I hear from more of you on this and other subjects, I realize more and more that the 50s can be a time of continued exploration and unfoldment. It’s a great time to embrace our inner diva!

Even after writing that blog entry, I didn’t actively go looking for a hat. We have a number of boutiques in a nearby shopping area known as The Village, where hubby and I go out to eat. Passing by, I would scan the window displays, but with no luck. I’m not fond of shopping, and though I knew the hat was therapy for me, I wasn’t in a hurry to go get one. The only reason I was in that NYC boutique in the first place is that my stepdaughter Sarah works there!

I met Sarah and her twin brother Joe in their senior year in high school. Shortly after we met, Sarah had a fashion emergency. She was running for homecoming queen and needed a dress. Her father called me at work: “We need a dress tonight. Can you help?”

Sure, no pressure. Never mind that if the kids don’t like me, Henry and I don’t have a future. Never mind that my idea of dressing up is getting out of the yoga clothes to put on a pair of shorts. Never mind that I have zero, and I mean zero, experience with teenagers.

Obviously, we survived, and Sarah looked lovely in a long brown gown as she took the field at homecoming and heard her name announced as queen. I could write an entire blog post about the quirky, humorous campaign she ran, but that’s off-topic. It was a proud moment, and I breathed a sigh of relief at passing the first of what would be many tests.

Fast forward several years. Sarah has graduated from Parsons School of Design and is living and working in New York. We have found common ground, though I do not share her flair for accessories. She makes much of her own jewelry and sells some of her designs. She has a collection of hats, scarves, and other frillies, while I have clothes that roll up easily in a suitcase and are comfortable to wear on hikes. She’s been known to wear her homecoming tiara around the house, just because. She loves to be on camera, and so far has made it to CNN and The Daily Show, while if I see a camera, I tend to run in the other direction.

In fact, when I was taking a blog class a few months ago and my teacher asked me about my blog, I said, “I’m going to write about issues that concern women at midlife. But I am NOT going to write about fashion.”

Well. That was before I met, and walked away from, “THE HAT.”

Though I didn’t know it, hubby and my stepdaughter were on the case, exchanging “top secret” e-mails. On a day when I was recovering from the bad review I mentioned on Monday, an envelope arrived. We knew Sarah was sending a package; she had medical bills that needed to be filed with insurance. Henry tossed it to me and said, “Here, why don’t you open this, and I’ll be right back.” I did, and that’s when the hat fell out. As Barbra said in Funny Girl (and upon accepting her Academy Award for her performance as Fanny Brice), “Hello, gorgeous!”

I have included the proof! Of course, that meant posing for the

camera…

Does a girly girl still lurk inside of me? I have a long way to go before I fully release my inner diva. The Puritan in me runs too deep. But I have my hat. And more importantly, I have my family, who understands when to intervene. They both understood that the hat was a departure for me — and a needed one, at that. What’s next? Scarves? Bracelets? Who knows?

Signs of Winter

November 7, 2011 by admin

Monarch Feeding — We keep plenty of milkweed in our yard for the Monarchs to munch on.

Good morning, everyone! Now that we’ve set our clocks back, can winter be far behind? Another sign is the Monarch migration — yesterday we saw five Monarchs flying around our back yard, and I’ve included the proof! Hubby and I were eating lunch when they showed up, and I left my homemade bean burrito half eaten to run outside and grab these pics.

We continue to see signs of another sort. These are signs that our idea to move is a good one. Yesterday at the grocery store, we chatted with a young woman who was selling wine — from Washington State. She grew up here but spent several years there and loved it. Later, we walked to our favorite little coffee and wine bar. Hubby ordered a Montepulciano wine, and he noticed that the importer is located in Seattle. The guy waiting on us grew up in Seattle, and we chatted with him, too. It just felt as though we were surrounded by people affirming our decision.

Signs, of course, are always subject to interpretation. A few days ago I was blindsided with my first bad review ever. I’m probably breaking some rule of writing and blogging to bring it up, but this is an example of something that could be seen as a “sign” to give up. However, I see something different — which applies to everyone, whatever your unique dream is.

Two Monarchs — We saw five in the yard yesterday, but I couldn't get more than two in the shot at the same time.

After my initial shock and hurt, I gathered my spirits and my fellow writers to discuss what had happened. I realized that though I have produced three books now, this is my first bad review — and that’s pretty fortunate. I also remembered that I like my story, and I’m still proud of it. I think the “sign” was, in part, to learn to ask for help. Part of the job of a novelist is to invite readers in advance to read the book and be willing to write reviews. I’ve been reluctant to do that.

If I am to be successful as a writer, I need to toughen up a little. I found an article about the bad reviews of some well known, classic literature. Apparently I’m in good company!

I could have crawled under a rock, but I decided to try harder to seek out my audience. At some point, when we are pursuing our dreams, we have to believe in what we are doing, whether or not someone else agrees. As the man says:

“You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching,
Love like you’ll never be hurt,
Sing like there’s nobody listening,
And live like it’s heaven on earth.”
― William W. Purkey

There are days when I feel as though no one is watching — or, in this case, reading — but I write because that is what I do. I write because I have stories to tell. I write in the way that the Monarchs migrate, year after year, because winter is coming.