Anniversaries, Birthdays & Other Musings of A Convalescent

An anniversary is a time to celebrate the joys of today, the memories of yesterday, and the hopes of tomorrow.

~Author Unknown

I’ve recently been thinking about birthdays, anniversaries and other events that commemorate the existence or longevity of relationships, lives, and important activities. This year, as with every year, is filled with several such markers which will recognize the presence of something or someone my life. I will celebrate the birthdays of my children; once again taking time to reflect on how quickly the time has passed since they each decided to depart my womb and enter the world as individuals in their own right. I will celebrate the birthdays of other loved ones as I give thanks for their existence.

In some cases, these anniversaries recognize the time since something ended instead of marking a beginning. This year marks the eleventh year since my first marriage ended and the fifth year since the end of my second one. It will be two years since I gave up dating. I’ll also celebrate one year in my new home, which is also one year since I decided to give up the battle I was fighting trying to keep up an old ranch-style home that I could not maintain nor adequately afford.

In yet other instances, the dates signify transitions rather than births or deaths. For example, it really is inadequate (though it is true) to say that I gave up dating two years ago. I did, but that’s not the whole story. I also met a wonderful man who is somehow able to tolerate and even, most of the time, enjoy my distractedness and my quirks. This year also marks the second year since I realized and began working on some of my own goals and dreams, instead of continually being tied up with making others’ dreams come true. That’s a good thing. I remember the day and the place where I made some pivotal decisions for myself.  Decisions which are just now bearing fruit and taking me through more change. Each transition is just another step along the path I began very intentionally walking in 2010.

This year, as well as hosting some notable anniversaries and birthdays, seems as though it is birthing some events that I might later look back on and recognize each year. I wonder, will I look back in years to come on every Valentine’s Day and think, “Wow, just  (insert number here) years ago, I was diagnosed with cancer.  Will I speculate each year that it’s been this many years since that particular event, or that one, or that one?  I do not yet know these things.

What I do know is this:  events during the first quarter of 2012 have changed my perspective on life.  Before this, I was still facing the big half century birthday, but I was facing it a bit cavalierly.  I thought, “I look young for my age. I feel great. I surely shall live to be 90 or a hundred.”

Life changes on a dime.

The form of cancer I have is entirely curable.  Nobody ever wants to get cancer, but if you have to pull the cancer card in the Game of Life, the kind I have is the one to draw. It is probably one of the most curable especially if caught early, which mine was.  I had to have surgery.  I might have to have radiation (that’s a big might; the fact that radiation might not even be needed tells you how early stage I am). I won’t have to have chemo. I am incredibly blessed and just as grateful. But my odds of getting cancer again, have just increased significantly.  Going through something like a 50th birthday, at the same time as experiencing a cancer diagnosis, when your youngest isn’t even in middle school yet, makes you think.  It makes you think long and hard about the value of life and things and the people in your life.

At the same time, certain things become less important while other things (like getting well and staying strong) become more important. The daily requirements of life morph into this strange place where they are both extremely important and not at all relevant.  This is the most difficult aspect of all.  How to live daily in a way that is relevant and meaningful, when so much of the daily stuff we do doesn’t amount to diddly squat.  It is vitally important that I continue to maintain and do the daily things, but so much of the things we make issues over just don’t matter in the long run.

2012 seems to also be birthing events I might well look back on as markers.  I wonder if Valentine’s Day will now have a new meaning for me each year as the day I was diagnosed with cancer.  Will I look back and say, in years to come, that it was (insert the number of years here) years ago when I found out I had cancer, or I had my first surgery.  Or will I always think of January 6, 2012 (the day of that first biopsy) as significant?  I wonder.

I wonder about these things and I wonder, now, about other things.
Instead of counting the days since certain things have happened, I now begin to wonder how many days until…

Memorial Day Weekend…I Love You, Mom

Sometimes people aren't the only things we memorialize

It’s Memorial Day Weekend.  As with most places in the U.S., something is going on to celebrate in my small neck of the woods.  Whether consciously commemorating those who fought and died for our freedom, or whether using it as an excuse to drink more beer or sell more beer, something is going on.

I’m attending none of it.

Instead, I’m cleaning my garage.

It’s been 4 years…almost….since that stormy June day that I left my second husband finally concluding that no matter how much I desired reconciliation, it was simply not going to happen.  It was nearly nine months before that, during which I planned my escape from a  6-year marriage which I dub as The Nightmare I Couldn’t Wake From.”  This, after leaving a first marriage of 16 years which also failed miserably.

Now, nearly 4 years later,my second ex is remarried to someone he met online shortly after our divorce was final and with whom he ran off to Vegas to marry.  Our daughter spoke to her new stepmother once in person and a few times on the phone before being forced to accept a near stranger into her life as “stepmom.” My first ex remarried months after our divorce was final to someone I knew he was interested in even before we had separated. But I digress.

I’m cleaning out the garage.

Cleaning the garage is pretty easy if you have a “pitch it all” mentality, which I do.  I definitely intend to pitch it all.  I’m downsizing, streamlining, and getting rid of all the stuff I don’t need.  I’m planning to move in the next year.  I’m planning a big life change that will remove me from the places and things that are surrounded in painful memories of the last decade or so.

That’s why I’m cleaning the garage.  I don’t want to take the past with me into my future.

It wasn’t as easy a project as I’d hoped it would be.  You see, sometimes when you clean the garage, it is easy.  You simply say “It goes to Goodwill” or “That goes to recycle” or “That’s trash.”  This is all very simple when you are dealing with furniture, clothing, broken things that cannot be repaired, old TVs and the like.  It is quite a different matter when the stuff you have to sort through consists of five or six large boxes of pictures and memorabilia.

Cleaning out the real junk, the useless “stuff” was the easy part today.  I quickly filled my trailer full of stuff for the landfill, filled my Dodge Durango full of stuff to go to the Goodwill, and my recycling bin full of paper product that in this digital age I can easily re-create or find again online.

The tough part began when I started the ominous task, the task I’d delayed and procrastinated about for over four years, the task of sorting through the pictures, the mementos, the letters, the notes and cards from a lifetime…or was it two…ago.

My mother’s funeral…my second wedding…my son posing in front of the Old Faithful sign after a week of me frantically trying to keep him from impulsively using the Yellowstone Geysers as hot tubs because my husband had confiscated the meds (he doesn’t believe in medicating a child for ADHD…yet it wasn’t his child to make that decision about).  All of the many financial records I kept from my first marriage: the loan papers from a house I recieved no equity in when we divorced, the many other papers, pictures and mementos of a very unhealthy and cluttered life.

When I got to the letter, written in my mother’s handwriting dated February 23, 2002 before she died (obviously, it couldn’t have been after), where she penned these words:

“I have been intending to write to you….There are a couple of things I want to tell you.  I would imagine that as (your first ex) remarries, lives in better circumstances, drives a better car, and wears better clothes, as he takes nice trips, this will get to you a little…”

It took all my composure to not dissolve into tears on the spot.  Had I not had a houseful of kids and a significant other around…I might have enjoyed that luxury.  Today, I did not.  I simply put the letter aside so I could revisit it later.  Now, is that later.  And now, to be honest, I am wiping away tears as I write this.

This letter was written almost, but not quite two years after my divorce from my first ex. We had three children, he got the house without having to split the equity and he coerced me out of a boatload of other financial and custodial rights in the name of trying to be fair. I’m not bitter about this.  I made my choices, uninformed as they were, because I simply wanted out of a marriage that was sucking the very life out of me.  Even so, my mother, long before the events transpired had the foresight to call this spot on.

My ex has been out of the country with his new wife (something he never did with me, though he knew it was a dream of mine), he actually went on a honeymoon with her out of the country for their honeymoon.  For ours?  We ended up spending a weekend somewhere…insignificant in the country…probably in the state…and I can’t even remember it…it was that exciting.

Now, lest you think I am bitter, I am not.  It was a bad match, a bad marriage and everything about it reflects that.  It is what it is and it was what it was.  That’s over and done with.  The part that got me was that my mother called it spot on about the emotions I might feel after the fact.

How could she have known?

She knew because I was walking her same path…or at least a similar one almost 30 years later.

Her life in many ways seemed to parallel mine.

She continues with these words…and I must admit…I had to pause to grieve, to cry, to feel the sadness that comes with knowing I cannot talk to her now…when I’d most like to…

“I say all this to you because I know that you will feel a twinge as (your ex) has, and does, all the things you wanted him to do. Your story is long from completely written yet, and as you continue to struggle and he seems to be doing swimmingly, it will get to you from time to time. Character counts and ultimately shows since leopards can’t change their spots.  So, sweet (and she uses my name here) keep on being your very best and you’ll understand all this better in years to come. In all, try not be resentful at those moments and remember, you are your own person.

I am amazed that she dialed this right in long before it actually happened and, now, after the fact, when all of it has transpired exactly as she predicted in her casual letter to me…I am reduced to tears, once again regretting that I didn’t know a wonderfully insightful woman far better than I did.

So…this is my Memorial Day.  It is celebrated this year, not in honor of military heroes who do deserve honor, but instead, this Memorial Day for me, is celebrated, honored, commemorated, in paying homage to a woman who was an amazing soldier, who never gave up, who persevered through some of the most difficult things life can throw at a person and who defied death at least two or three times and lived to tell about it.

This Memorial Day for me, celebrates my mother (she passed shortly after that letter was written) who fought wars and won them by simply being the most authentic person she could be.  She is one of my biggest heroes in life and one of my biggest regrets in life to date is that I’d wish I known her better than I did.

Me:  I love you, Mom.

My Mom:  I know you do, Honey.  I love you too…and remember this…there are better days ahead. 

Hello? Anyone Out There?

Hello?  Anyone out there?  I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked.  I’ll totally understand if what I have to say floats out there like a balloon freed from the wrist of a toddler.  It floats freely, lazily, disappearing eventually.  None notice and none remember.

I’m okay with that.

After all, since my very long digital silence, I’ve come to one conclusion:  I must write for me and only for me.  Anything else is pandering to a crowd that likely doesn’t exist.

I’m okay with that.

Some People, Like Books…

Some people, like books, grip you from the minute you, after noticing the engaging and artistically designed cover, open to the first page and begin reading.  You are instantly drawn in to the enchantment, the story, the drama.  You read these people books hungrily, passionately, from cover to cover without so much as a break for food till the story is over.  When the end ultimately arrives as you knew it would, as you knew it must, you read the last pages and the last words with a bittersweet sentiment.  These are the people books that bid farewell when you wish they could stay forever, yet you understand they cannot.  What’s more, you understand why they cannot.

Other people, like other books, fail to capture your imagination or ignite your passion , yet they provide valuable information and knowledge that you need.  These books you keep on the shelves of your life at the ready should you need to refer to them for the wisdom and knowledge they contain hidden among the pages of their past.  These books you don’t give up, nor do they  ever make it to the book exchange box. Instead, they inhabit a familiar and handy place on your bookshelf, ready and willing at any moment to be of service. These solidly familiar and resourceful books are always present though only occasionally does one take advantage of the vast store of knowledge contained inside the worn cover. The value in these people books is knowing they are there and knowing them well enough and long enough and closely enough, to feel comfortable tapping into their knowledge when the need in your life arises.

Still other people, like other books, are divided into segments and must be read in parts.  Some short inspiring bit here to begin with, then later, possibly the opportunity to read a longer, more heart wrenching piece later. These are the books you rarely read from beginning to end, feeling free enough with them that you can move around in any particular order not caring, if, or when you read the entire book.  These people books might sit in your life for years only being read a segment at a time as the opportunity or mutual interest arises.

Still, other people, like that rare book, are magical somehow. That outside cover, while certainly attractive enough, doesn’t jump out at you right away, but something about it won’t leave you till you’ve picked that book up off the shelf.  Cautiously, hesitantly, you study the cover more closely.  Internally, maybe, you even dare the book to interest you. After all, you just finished up with the best passionate read of your life and you are tired of looking for another story.  You’re tired of reading.  You dare this magical book, which you do not yet know is magical, to interest you.  You look at the front cover, you look at the back cover.  It looks interesting enough, as though it might be a good read, but you’re just not interested.  You put the book back on the shelf.  You mosey on your way.  Except now, you cannot leave that book.  You must return to it and glance at the first page.  You  begin, ever so cautiously and carefully to read.  The first few paragraphs and pages certainly don’t ignite your passion like throwing a match on a gasoline soaked burn pile, but something about the way the author has crafted this particular story draws you in.  You continue reading.  With each page you find happiness, you find surprise, you find adventure, and, yes, there buried among the pages you find heartache, sadness, tragedy.  You continue reading and find that this book contains plenty of its own passion, plenty of its own wisdom, plenty of its own strength.  Before long you realize that you’ve been reading this book for a while and you’ve enjoyed every minute, every chapter, every page.  These are the people books that come into your life gradually, and before you know how it quite happened they are an everyday fixture in the landscape of your life while never for a minute being relegated to the mundane-ness of the everyday. 

Some people, like books, will enter your life, become a quick read and leave your life and consciousness forever.  Other people, like other books are read quickly but make an impact that never quite leaves you though you might never re-read them.  Still other people, like that rare magical book, work your way into your life and you wonder what you ever did without them.  If you had to, you find that it would be difficult and painful to imagine life where they were not present.  These are the magical people books who continue to interest, entertain, challenge, comfort and provide companionship day after day without becoming so very daily themselves.  You never quite understand how they do it, but you are glad to be the benefactor of their particular magic.  These are the kind of books…people…a person can grow old with, and yet, never grow weary of reading.

Those Little Breaks in Life: Give Yourself Permission to Take One…or Two

There’s part of me that wants to call out in a high pitched, annoying, nasally voice, “I’m baaaaack!”, but how cliché is that? Instead, I just say I feel like doing it, instead of really doing it.  If you are a detail person, you’ve noticed that the last post before this one was dated April 6.  If you’re a relational person and you liked The Wild Mind, then you noticed I haven’t been writing and you missed me.

I Took A Little Break from Blogging

Well, not so little.  It was a big enough break to get me kicked off some of those rating sites and blog lists since I didn’t post anything in over 30 days.  It was a big enough break for me to finish up the onslaught of work projects, demands and deadlines I had going during the first half of this year. It was a big enough break to give me time to rethink things. A lot of things.

It is funny how the things we love can start out being a source of pleasure, an outlet, a form of entertainment and relaxation.  It is funny how these very enjoyable things can gradually change into something very different.  The once enjoyable and therapeutic activity can somehow turn its tame head and devour us.

Writing, blogging, became such for me.

It was my outlet.  A source for me to get my thoughts, my experiences and my perceptions, as warped or sound as they might be, out in some objective form so I could analyze them and consider them more carefully.  Anyone going through divorce, especially divorce after 40 understands this need to re-evaluate, to process, to heal.

Writing was also entertainment.  Playing with words is a fun thing to do, but playing with disguises, something the writer can expertly do while safely cloaked behind ink and paper, is another thing entirely.  Writing in this fashion while trying on a variety of personas, genres and perspectives helped take my mind off the pain of my own failures, the difficulty of the lessons I was studying in life, and helped me heal.  In this way, writing helped me find my voice.  When I began getting comments from the occasional reader, then regular comments from regular reader, I gained confidence and courage.  It was a good thing for me.

From Pleasure to Pressure

But then somewhere along the line, the process changed for me from something enjoyable, relaxing and therapeutic to something arduous, stressful and even painful at points.  It turned on its head and devoured me, becoming the thing that mastered and drove me, instead of something I enjoyed for my own purposes.

I found I could no longer write.  What I did write, I did not like.  I chose to take a little break.  I needed to sort things out.  I needed to step back.  I needed some time to mentally kick my feet up on the desk, lean back in the office chair and just dream. I’m not sure how much dreaming I got done with three kids at home finishing up the school year, me finishing up the school year, and another child returning from college, while still maintaining a home, a career and a social life, but as I look back on it, I was able to take that much needed break and begin doing some of the sorting out for myself in many areas of life that I needed to do, both personally and professionally.

I think there are times in life when we need to give ourselves permission to get off whatever treadmill we find ourselves on.  Sometimes, stepping back is easier said than done, especially in today’s competitive marketplace.  We feel, somehow, that we have to have our game on constantly, that we have to always put on a happy face, complete everything on the “To Do” list. If we are a writer or a blogger, it is easy to get sucked into the idea that we must always write the perfect piece, be up on our SEO, garnering for ourselves the ever-increasing readership.

It can become the demon that drives us instead of the outlet that heals us.

What is it in your life that drives you? Is there something you need to take a step back from?  What keeps you from stepping off that figurative treadmill?  Is it fear of losing to the competition?  Fear of missing opportunities?  Fear of being viewed as a failure or as incapable of “handling it”? Is it a sense that time is somehow running out?

For me, it was a bit of all of these things.  I made myself step back anyway.  To be honest, it wasn’t all that courageous a move on my part.  Circumstances conspired to make it such that I had no other option.  I had too much going on.  I had too many spinning plates in the air and I couldn’t possibly move from plate to plate fast enough.  I simply had to let a few of those plates come crashing down.  Blogging was one of them and it was the least significant of the bunch, I figured.

Sometimes, we just need to stop chasing the things we are chasing in order to recognize that the path we are running so frantically down is simply the wrong road in the wrong direction.

Old Dogs and Spinning Plates

Some people are simply amazing in their ability to accomplish a ton of stuff in less time that it takes most of us to get dressed.  You have people in your life like this, I’m sure.  Maybe you are one of them.

For me, back in college, it was the sorority sisters who could hold an office in our house (a demanding and time consuming leadership position often requiring additional meetings outside our own membership meetings), work, hold student body leadership positions on campus, carry a 4.0 GPA in a fairly rigorous academic course of study (or maybe even two) and still manage to have a social life.

Currently, it is those folks who can juggle more things and accomplish more things in a day than I can even think about.  I’m a plodder.  I’m a deliberate person.  I have to plan then I can do.  I’m great as long as I don’t stretch myself too thin, but once stretched things start, well, falling apart. I can only keep so many plates spinning in the air for so long.

I’ve never been one of those people.  When overbooked, I tended to crash and burn…or I felt like it from my perspective.

Things are different these days. 

Currently, I’ve exceeded my limits, both in terms of number of plates spinning and the duration of the spins on each plate. 

In short, I’m kind of surprising myself.  I’m overbooked and I’m not crashing and burning.  I’m flying.  Okay, tonight I’m hobbling, but most of the time it is more like flying than hobbling so I can’t complain.

I love to work hard and have my game on.

I love to play hard and enjoy doing nothing related to work in the off times.

(I’ve been accused of not liking to go to work.  This is so not true.  I love the work I do.  I simply hate the process of waking up every day!)

And today, after an especially long day, where I slept fitfully, at best, the night before, I am glad to be home.  I am glad to be done.  I am also glad to have done it all, and I am pleased to have done it well. 

Tonight, I finished the seventh night of working with parents. 

My computer froze during the presentation.  (Last week’s presentation was even more humorous, but that’s for another time and place.) I had no presentation for the last half hour of the session and had to wing it once again thanking my experience in debate and theater for helping me to get through without appearing flustered though I felt very flustered.

My body cramped up and I could hardly stand. (I’m an ex-theater person so I can fake it through almost anything and I did tonight.)

All that, after a day with kids who have no idea the weather is gloomy and are experiencing Spring Fever anyway, in order to come home to more of the same with my own four children. (Who by the way, really were amazing when I got home tonight.) 

I’m exhausted.

My body hurts.  (Starting up a workout routine can really bite.)

But I read feedback forms from my presentation that were positive and encouraging in spite of the glitches I experienced.

It all goes to show that things are not always what they seem. 

Things you might think are bad are not always unpleasant.

And sometimes, we are quite capable of surprising ourselves.

This is why I will always believe that old dogs can learn new tricks if the dog is motivated enough to do so.

Sometimes, it just feels downright good to step out of the comfort zone and attempt something, to risk failing, to succeed instead, and to simply enjoy how good it feels to have done what you set out to do, in spite of frozen computers, aching bodies and too many spinning plates.

Photojournalism? Not!

 

I do not feel like this today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I do not feel like this today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I do not feel like this today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I feel more like this. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reason is because when I tried to do this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I ended up with a wonderful (to me) post about my upcoming high school graduation.  And then somewhere between writing it, proofing it, reworking it and looking for pictures for it (who would think finding pictures of my small home town back in the 80’s would be so tough?) I decided against posting it.  I had second thoughts.  Something inside me said wait a day or two.  Something else inside of me shrieked, “But I need a post today!”

Now, I am out of this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And I have so many of these:

 

My writing time expired long ago and my day is mostly gone. My butt hurts and as any good writer knows, no good writing happens with a sore butt. I must give it up for today.

Further, Number 3 still wants to go to the skate park.  I still need to work out.  Fortunately, I have dinner figured out for tonight.  I won’t be getting that load or two of stuff to the Goodwill today, I’m afraid. Did I mention I haven’t showered in a long, long time, like days.  I can’t remember…

I’ll just have to try again tomorrow, because I promised Number 3, I’d take him to skate park if the weather is good.  The weather is good and a promise is a promise.

Some days are just like this, I guess.

A Healthy Lifestyle? Yeah, About That.

Several months ago (wow, has it really been that long?), I began my journey toward fitness and a healthier lifestyle. The idea of Looking Good Naked was not the goal, but the catalyst that drove me to consider more than just getting skinny but getting fit and, more importantly, healthy. 

I had a great start.

Just as I anticipated my schedule during the month of February killed it or slowed my progress so significantly it…well…killed the forward or downward progress I was making. 

I can make excuses for this and, as an excuse for making excuses, say that I’m attempting to analyze where I went wrong in order not to make the same mistakes from here on out.  But, let’s get real.  I’m going to make some excuses here.

First excuse, my time, or schedule got away from me. 

It did.  There were days there were I was working 16 hours a day, not getting home until 8:30 at night and then having to deal with attending to three children with their various needs for attention and care.  Fortunately, the two older ones were able to fend for themselves, but they still needed some contact time and the nine-year-old really needed the whole bath, bedtime routine thing.  By the time all that was done there was no time for workouts for me.  Furthermore, I was wiped out, which leads to excuse number two.

I didn’t plan ahead for meals. 

Poor scheduling or over-scheduling led to poor shopping which led to inadequate or poor meal  preparation which led to more eating out than I should have or quick, unhealthy meals (like spaghetti) that didn’t quite move me in the direction I wanted to be headed.  Furthermore, they made me feel lethargic. Excuses number one and two combined, led to excuse number three.

I got sick, several times.

I’m not normally a sick person, but the crazy existence I was living especially during February eroded my immunities, I think, and left me susceptible to every cold or virus the kids brought in the classroom.  Of course, I wasn’t keeping up on either food planning or workouts at that point and that gave rise to my fourth excuse for not making progress toward my goals.

I started missing workouts.

Yeah, well, everyone who ever began a workout program knows how this slippery slope goes.  Skip one, then the next time it becomes easier to skip then the next is even easier until you are merely looking at the fitness video case instead of pushing play.  Pass another bag of that really unhealthy popcorn disguised as a healthy snack and let me down the whole thing as I ponder whether or not I have enough energy to even change into workout clothes let alone do the whole routine.  Yeah, you get my drift.  By the middle of February, the Journey to a Healthy Lifestyle so stopped. 

Enough of the excuses.

Fall down.  Hurt self.  Sit down for a minute and get bearings.  Get up.  Look around.  Refocus.  Keep walking.

Enough.  I’ve vented, got it off my chest, I’ve bemoaned my fate long enough.  I can’t beat myself up over it.  As Rafiki, from The Lion King, would say, “It’s in the past!”  Yes, it is in the past.  What is done is done and I am done making excuses or beating myself up because I failed. (It actually feels good to get it out there.) I made the choices I did and my healthy life isn’t over, just delayed. I didn’t go backwards, but I made progress and then stopped.  I’m moving forward today, right now.  I have a plan.  I will…

• Plan ahead for the busy weeks (and there are plenty of them coming up).
• Plan ahead for meals.  This includes breakfast, lunch and dinner.
• Plan workouts in advance so I can schedule around those coming long days when I am out consulting in the evenings after a full day in the classroom.
• Drink water and get lots of rest and keep up on my supplements.
• Make the most of Spring Break by working out and eating smart.

So, with that being said, I’m done here for today.  I have to go work out.  I’ve been momentarily distracted, but I haven’t caved and given up.  That’s definitely a good thing. I know I can do this!

The Beautiful Blogger Award

I received this beautiful award from my favorite blogger Big Little Wolf at her Daily Plate of Crazy!  This humbles and delights me for so many reasons.   

If you write it, they will come, is a saying I use when I think of blogging in general.  I don’t know if it is true, but it seems that the most successful bloggers write something every single day.  In particular, this truth applies to my own blog.  My stats go way up when I write.  When I don’t write, well, the stats reflect my absence by reporting an absence of visitors to my blog. It’s the reality of blogging, but as every blogger knows, the writing is the easy part.  Assuming the writing is decent, all other things being equal, what makes or breaks a blog is visitors who comment.  Well, that is, if you are actually writing for an audience instead of talking to yourself online. 

I’m not really much of a blogger. I admit it.  No, that’s not a self-effacing comment, it really is true.  I don’t know a thing about SEO, I don’t pay attention to optimizing my posts, my titles or my subtitles.  I don’t even write daily, and there are many, many people out there who write far better than I do.  I can take it.  It’s the truth.  It doesn’t mean I’m a poor writer (though, I’m definitely sloppy at times), but I have no grand illusions about my ability.  As for the blogging end of it, I neither have time and knowledge (yet) to do what it takes to drive traffic to my blog in big numbers.  Because of all this, it is especially rewarding when someone comments on my blog about something that resonated with them.  It is even more gratifying when I get a blog award from someone who enjoys what I write.  It is completely humbling to receive an award from someone I admire so much. 

So, Big Little Wolf, thank you so much for the award.  It means a great deal to me to even be read by you let alone considered a Beautiful Blogger!  I’m incredibly pleased and humbled. You are, to me, one of the most beautiful people I know. So, again, thank-you.

Now, as for who to pass this award on to?  That’s going to take some time and thought.  There are so many beautiful bloggers out there to choose from!

Elton John, Weather, and Oops! There Goes The Last of My Sun

 “Don’t let the sun go down on me”…

I can hear those words now just as I heard them during the summers of my childhood blaring out of the community swimming pool loudspeakers. I haven’t heard them in a while. Those old Elton John lyrics are running through my mind this morning.  Southern Oregonians this last week experienced a beautiful week of sunny weather in the high 60’s to mid 70’s.  It was a definite precursor to the wonderful sunny and dry weather we usually enjoy during our summers.  Contrary to popular folklore, not all parts of Oregon are soaked in rain most of the year.  I live in one of the sunnier regions.  Less populated for sure, but it’s worth the wonderful warm dry summers and mild winters and the year round outdoor activities we enjoy. 

This morning, however, the weather abruptly changed.  Lower temps and some rain welcomed me upon waking.  I figure now is probably as good a time as any (and probably long overdue) for me to reveal my last three picks for the Sunshine Award.

There is one particular blogger I especially enjoy.  She’s the first I check on my iPhone, when I do have time to check and won’t risk being interrupted.  She’s an excellent writer and she’s set the bar for me in writing, blogging, and enduring all of life’s craziness in stride.  Hopefully a stiletto adorned stride, but in stride none the less.  She’s an amazing person and if it fits within the parameters of the Sunshine Award to receive it twice then BigLittleWolf at Big Little Wolf’s Daily Plate of Crazy gets it from me for sure!  C’mon, she should win the award for her blog title alone, but read her stuff.  She writes daily and it is never the same ole, same ole.  I love this woman.  

Next on the list is a fun foodie mom with a big blog I like to visit called, The Kitchen Witch.  She cracks me up and, well, one of these days I’ll try one of her recipes…maybe.  Those burgers she had posted today looked pretty delish.  I’d rather use her personal chef services but, well, post divorce finances and all, I’m going to have to just suck it up and learn to cook.  Ugh.  But seriously, go check her out if you haven’t already.  The picture on her blog is hysterical! Are you kidding me?  Who would think to do that?  Props for that!  I think TKW already got this award from someone somewhere but WTH she’s getting it again.   

The third source of sunshine for me on this day (oh, my the sun really is coming out again!) is a new blog for me.  Not a single mom blog, but definitely a fun read is Gabrielle at The Wifey Blogs. She’s funny, and takes me back to the days when my own children were young.  She’s starting out on some amazing adventures in her young married life and you can read about it all at her blog. She’s also got an amazing blog roll so when you get done reading Gabrielle’s stuff you can go visit the many other amazing bloggers she’s listed there.  I intend to do just that, even though for me it could take thousands of years and cost millions of lives.  

So, that wraps it up for the Sunshine Awards, for me, anyway.  Whew! Now, blog friends and award winners, go spread your own bit of sunshine by awarding this award to ten other bloggers of your choosing.  I look forward to visiting you and those wonderful sunny bloggers you pick.  Enjoy the sun while it lasts!