Love-Hate Challenge

Joey tagged me in the Love-Hate Challenge (Thanks, Joey!) and that’s a challenge I can’t resist: 10 Things I Love; 10 Things I Hate; 10 Blogging Buddies to invite to the Challenge

I love:

• The powdery smell of newborn babies
• My country’s flag snapping in our stiff breeze
• Ice cold Bombay gin & tonic after a hot afternoon of golf
• My bright pink earplugs for cones of silence
• Sticky rice with steamed brussel sprouts, olive oil and poppy seeds
• Falling asleep in Hub’s arms
• Wiggling my toes in soft sand
• Farting with Sparks and Raqi and blaming the dogs (“Briar! Stella!”)
• Dark nights, full moons, shooting stars, constellations
• Playing Oh Hell with Dad and the J’s

I hate:

• Incessantly barking dogs 
• The taste of rhubarb
• Being wrong (this rarely happens …)
• Gossip
• Clowns and mimes
• Hypocrisy
• Robocalls
• Drivers who tailgate
• Fake scent products
• People who don’t pick up pet poop

  I’m passing this challenge on to:

Dale

Janis

Greg

Mark

Celine

Carrie

Joanne

Curt

Kelli

Amanda

Have fun!        

Summertime!! Iced Coffee? Arnie Palmer? Fruit Smoothie?

If we were having coffee, I’d confess I’m a little more gripe-y in person than I am on my blog, so I’d start our conversation by whining that whoever invented the leaf blower (which I might point out is used against all laws of nature to blow cut grass from one side of the street to the other and to blow dirt out of the driveway into the curb gutter after which the wind blows it right back into the driveway) should be strung up by his thumbs and forced to listen to that deafening, polluting noise until his ears fall off.

If I was writing about it on my blog instead of bitching to you in person, I’d write it in a more positive tone, something like this:

I will gladly give my  virginity, first born, chocolate stash,‘favorite books’ collection to the genius who invents a SILENT MOTOR that can power everything from leaf blowers to lawn mowers to motorcycles to Budget Rent-a-Trucks to air conditioning compressors.

For the love of God, am I the ONLY person who expects motor-free time outdoors in the summer?

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest …

I’d tell you that Sparks and Raqi were done with school yesterday, and Raqi’s 9^th birthday is this weekend – nine years of idyllic love for my Bella Boo-ski Baby Cakes. I like nicknames. I can’t tell you all of Sparks’ because he uses them in his video games passwords. I’d tell you, but then he’d surely terminate you.

Raqi asked us to come stay overnight on her birthday (Awww) and she wants to go to Golden Corral for dinner because, you know, … chocolate fountain!

Raqi’s Birthday Card

We’ve got plans for a family week at a very special place in July (more on that later), and I want to take them to Arapahoe Park (horse races where they let you wander the stables) and trek north to Fort Collins to visit stables housing some of the Budweiser Clydesdales. Plus we’ve got Sparks’ golf camp and baseball. Time at the pool – well, let’s just say each summer we discover a new place to splash.

Obstacle Course – Field Day Plan B ‘cuz of Storms

We must pack it all in quickly because their next school session begins the first week in August!

Tower Competition – Field Day Plan B ‘cuz of Thunderstorms

Hub and I are enjoying a series on the Smithsonian Channel titled ‘Aerial America’ – an aerial history/travelogue of each of the 50 states. So far we’ve visited Minnesota, New Jersey, Maine, Indiana, Kansas, Missouri and South Carolina. All I have to say is after each hour we look at each other and chime, “I wanna live there!”

OK, maybe not live there, but definitely visit or re-visit what we’ve missed. (and an aside to Joey – Indianapolis was highlighted in a very favorable light, not least because you live there!).

The music on Aerial America is TOO LOUD. I had to turn on ‘closed caption’ because the music drowns out the narrator even for the not-hard-of-hearing.

But that’s a bitch best left for the Love-Hate Challenge.

We are truly blessed to live in such a vastly rich, diverse country.

I am delighted and grateful  to have each of you in my life.

If you don’t hear from me next week, well … death by chocolate fountain isn’t a bad way to go!

 

Buoyancy, Baggage and Beyond

I’m reminded this week how similar we are, even in our differences.

•  Maggie worries about her godmother, Aunt Iris, and a blogger buddy named Iris who’s gone ‘radio silent’
• Jen is determined to remain buoyant as anxiety monsters threaten to pull her under
• Joey vexes over cold sores and cabbage while craving restful sleep
• I’m reading a book about ‘happiness‘ while thinking the least we deserve is ‘resilience’, and we’d all be better off if experts touted ‘contentment’ rather than ‘happiness’

 No matter what Maggie, Jen, Joey, the Mayo Clinic or I call it, we’re all talking about resiliency: the ability to cope with who you are and what life throws at you.

Taking the long view, if you fill your quiver with arrows of resilience, you are well on your way to a life of contentment.

Happiness, while not overrated, is certainly over-hyped as the optimal state of emotion. A math concept I remember is reversion to the mean – for every moment of happiness, there will be an equal, opposing force called sadness to pull you back to equilibrium.

I like my moments of happiness – the days my body doesn’t hurt and I’m not ruminating about the past or playing what if’s with the future. There are never enough of those days.

Like some of you, I skew towards the anxiety of undesirable scenarios with an aversion to the many things I can’t control. Reversion to the mean hasn’t brought equilibrium in my innermost self where we suffer the most. If I dwelled on that, I’d be tempted to feel disappointed with some aspects of my life.

That’s where resilience and contentment come into play. In my worst years of mind/body ailments, I learned the cyclical nature of the day to day: on my worst days, I knew I’d eventually feel better; on my best days, I knew they wouldn’t last.

You learn to withstand the worst and cherish the best – for me that’s where resilience meets contentment, and life’s equilibrium is achieved.

It applies to everything, doesn’t it? From our mental and physical challenges to gardening  – where weeds grow prolifically and favored plants succumb – to friendships that seem like they’ll last forever and fall apart at surprising junctures. We don’t control any of it. We won’t ever achieve an uninterrupted life of happiness.

But we can acquire tools of resilience, hoping sooner rather than later to understand and rejoice that we live contented, but not trouble-free, lives.

I’m not discussing medications or extricating yourself from unhealthy relationships, although I highly recommend considering both when needed!

What I want to pass on are insights from the Handbook for Happiness (but I’d call it the Handbook for Contentment and I wouldn’t show a woman jumping for joy).

I re-learned that our brains were developed for one evolutionary purpose – keeping our species safe. Thus our brain’s default mode is to constantly search our environment for what’s not safe; what threatens us; what evils lurk to do us in.

Honestly, I was relieved to be reminded that my tendency toward preliminary pessimistic frames of reference is the norm for human brains!

The alternative to default mode is to consciously engage in learning, challenging, pleasurable activities and thoughts. The book has many chapters about cultivating the focused mind. While those tools are important, what I find more beneficial is the tools to turn off my default mode.

If you are like me, turning off the default is more complicated than solely turning on the focus. Perhaps our default modes are on the extreme end of the catastrophic spectrum, and we require more tools to quiet that mode.

One recommended tool is ‘Check Your Baggage’. Our minds carry three loads: the burdens of the past, the reality of now, and the anxieties over the future. Yesterday and tomorrow aren’t real; all that matters is now. Why not draw a mental image of a suitcase and pack past burdens and future anxieties for the rest of today? You can open the suitcase tomorrow, but there is no reason to do so today and you’ve lightened your load by 2/3.

I just used this concept successfully. Two weeks ago I received a letter from the IRS. One of those incomprehensible letters with four paragraphs of government-speak closing with ‘you will hear from us no later than 45 days from now’.

 In the past, I would have flipped out, calling the IRS immediately, waiting on hold for an hour or two, begging the know-nothing agent to explain, and raising my blood pressure over what could turn out to be nothing.

Instead, I decided ‘WTF, I can’t control this and worrying won’t help. I’ll hear something in 45 days. Or I won’t.’  I stashed the letter in my tax folder then – literally – washed my hands of worry.

You can decrease your baggage even more. Statistically nothing catastrophic happens in the next hour of your life. You will be fine for the next hour. When you consciously choose to carry only the next hour’s load, or simply remember that you will be fine for the next hour, those pounding drums of doom can be quieted, if just for a short while.

Memorial Day Appreciation

In October 2005, Hub and I joined some friends on a 16-person tour in the Tuscany region of Italy. About 15 minutes after we left Florence on our way to Siena, our bus driver turned off Via Cassia and headed down a spacious driveway bordered by well-manicured lawn and stately trees.

Florence American Cemetery from Wikipedia

 

Our guide, Marie Elena, announced she had a ‘little surprise stop’ for us.

 As we departed the bus, we found we had entered the grounds of the Florence American Cemetery and Memorial, a 70-acre piece of land given to the United States by Italy as a permanent burial site for United States military personnel killed in nearby World War II battles during the first half of 1944 (who were originally buried in temporary sites).

 This cemetery is one of 20 permanent American World War I and World War II military cemetery memorials established on foreign soil by the American Battle Monuments Commission. The use of these permanent cemetery sites – located in France, England, Belgium, Italy, Luxembourg, Republic of the Philippines, Holland and Tunisia – was granted in perpetuity by each of these host countries to the United States.

 The Florence American Cemetery holds 4,402 gravesites of men and women who served in the United States military from the Philippine Islands, China, Turkey, Spain, Washington, DC and every state except Alaska. There are several headstones marking graves of Unknowns, and five pairs of brothers buried side by side.

Florence American Cemetery from Wikipedia

 I’m embarrassed to say I knew little about our military cemeteries overseas. Until that visit to the Florence American Cemetery, I gave little thought to the families of men and women whose bodies were never returned to the States for burial in family plots. And yet they rest for eternity on land dedicated forever to the memory of their sacrifice.

 Leaving the cemetery was not the last time Marie Elena spoke of the American military personnel, in particular those serving in World War II. In numerous hillside villages, she pointed out churches, bridges, and important roads, telling us the Allies saved them from ruin or had a hand in rebuilding. She ushered us to one small village where her Uncle and his friends were sitting at the outdoor café having their morning coffee. She wanted us to meet her Uncle because he had fought ‘alongside the Allies’ is how she worded it. Uncle and his friends thanked us in rudimentary English for saving their village.

Marie Elena and her Uncle

 For me, World War I is a chapter in the history book and World War II is living history that will become just as distant for younger generations as the last of its surviving veterans come to the end of their lives.

 I am grateful to Marie Elena for teaching me something about my country’s history, and for expressing her gratitude for the sacrifices made by our military personnel.

 As we make time this Memorial Day to honor and remember those who gave their lives, we honor those buried near and far as well as those whose remains have never been found or identified.

God Bless all our military familes, past present and future.

 

 

Maps and A Sense of Place

What is a map if not ultimately a tool to help us in our discovery of ‘Place’?

Place can be as meaningless as a red X proclaiming, “You are Here” or as monumental as your internal compass at some point in your life’s journey whispering, “You belong Here.”

Occasionally Place can be conflicting heartstrings, as when you return to your childhood hometown, wanting to find what existed long ago exactly the way your memory locked it in.

Book Cover for Stranger or Friend

Silvia Villalobos, an author and Romanian transplant to Los Angeles, recently published her first novel, Stranger or Friend in which Los Angeles lawyer, Zoe Sinclair, returns to her hometown only to find her best friend murdered and her mother succumbing to age-related illnesses and refusing medical care.

As Zoe investigates her friend’s murder, she finds once-friendly townspeople reluctant to share what they know. Zoe is forced to confront more challenging circumstances than she anticipated as she realizes how much the town she once knew has changed.

Silvia creates believable characters and relationships, and brings her story to a satisfactory conclusion (something I find missing in many novels). I recommend her novel for the storyline as well as the many themes Silvia incorporated. If anything, I hope she delves deeper into a few of her themes in her planned Zoe sequel, especially the conflicts that come as towns become more demographically diverse, forcing changing workforces and cultural adjustments.

What I enjoyed as much as the novel itself was the amount of thematic background Silvia provided during April’s A to Z Challenge. One theme that resonated with me is our human need to find our sense of place.

 In Silvia’s words, “People suffer through bad times – hurricanes, fires – and return to rebuild, as they feel they belong to the place as much as the place belongs to them.”

 Silvia’s novel takes place in Wyoming, and she specifically references the northwest corner of the state where Yellowstone National Park and the majestic Teton Mountain Range are the state’s crowning beauties.

Yellowstone’s Beehive Geyser from Google Images

Wyoming’s Teton Range from Google Images

While I have traveled to those tourist-heavy natural wonders, I know a different Wyoming – that of the central and eastern plains where families have passed down homestead ranches and where mineral excavation and oil/gas drilling are the lifeblood of the economy.

Wyoming Plains from Google Images

A Wyoming where the wind blows so steadily no matter the season; the snow blusters so forcefully; and the sun blisters so intensely, you’ve got to develop a thick crust and a ‘git ‘er done’ attitude to survive, let alone thrive. Silva rightfully uses weather as a driving theme in her novel, and highlights the effect it has on the sociability and personality of Wyoming’s residents.

Collected Stories of Wallace Stegner Back Cover

While I was reading Silvia’s novel, I was finishing up Collected Stories of Wallace Stegner. Much to my surprise and delight, two of the final four stories, “The Wolfer” and “Carrion Spring” take place in Wyoming. Stegner wrote about the spring of 1907 after four months of brutal forty degree below zero cold snaps with intermittent wild, warming Chinook winds and continuous blizzard whiteouts and fog. Most of the cattle did not survive; the wolves were running rampant to feast on the carnage; and the wolfer and his vicious hound dog eventually succumbed in gruesome scenes when their trapping plan went awry.

Coincidentally, when I reread Silvia’s A to Z posts, I realized she quoted Wallace Stegner in her ‘Place’ post, “The knowledge of place that comes from working in it, making a living from it, suffering from its catastrophes, loving its mornings and evenings…”

Much as I like to think of myself as a Pioneer Woman, I haven’t worked the land in Colorado, Wyoming, New Mexico or Arizona nor suffered most of their catastrophes, but I love the Great Plains, Rocky Mountains and Southwest Desert. Every fiber in me knows this is where I belong … my sense of place.  Much of my heart resides with my Michigan family but Colorado is my rightful home.

Thanks to Silvia Villalobos and Wallace Stegner for celebrating ‘Place’.

I’m curious about my readers.

•  Are you transplants who have found your ‘place’?
• Lifelong residents of your birthplace?
• Feel like a foreigner when revisiting your birthplace?
• Multi-placers who split you time living in more than one place? If so, is one ‘home’?
• Still seeking? How? Where?

I am also interested to hear about authors you like who write about ‘YOUR place’ in a way that holds meaning for you. (Prompt?)

Occasionally I scroll through Andrea Reads America where Andrea provides author quotes linking the author to their state . She reads and reviews several books taking place in a state then she ‘moves on’ to another state. Fascinating!