Thursday, July 26, 2012

The Lake

Every summer, we get to disappear for a few days to the lake of my childhood and youth.   

Here, young dreams were built in the sand.  Treasure was hunted (and sometimes purchased), and young love bloomed with handsome and heart crushing boys.  This is the place I return to each summer.  Under the warmth of sun, with water lapping against the beach,  friends await. 

The Lake is enchanting.  Nestled in the mountains, we stay in the "hippy shack".  A round cabin, like an upscale yurt, the porch wraps half way around the house.  Treasured branches, nests, and an abandoned beehive decorate the outside.  An evil eye hangs in the window, warding off anyone who would seek to do harm to this sweet paradise.  The hippy shack is so magical that even as you drive up the lane, you feel yourself unwind and all those things that worry you somehow float up up and away into nothingness.  

We sleep late--but stay up later.  We drink our weight in Diet Coke everyday.  We don't cook, we graze-- and the children don't bathe.    

There's no television, or wi-fi and we couldn't be happier because of it.  There's plenty of downtime, card playing, creating, discussing, swimming, and enjoying.  

At the end of our time there, I always take my kids to the Lodge for lunch on the way out of town.  My darling dad took me there every time we went to the lake--just me and him. It's one of those treasured memories I reflect on often now that he's gone...and the magic of life continues.  

Have a fabulous weekend.  I hope you all find a treasured corner of paradise...
even if just for a moment. 

Do you have a magical place that the very thought of it makes you giddy with joy?

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

To Love Another Person

I'll be honest--I have had one hell of a week.
I feel like life has chewed me up and spat me out about fourteen times.

A dear friend of mine heard of my distress and although she lives half a continent away, had another friend deliver an unexpected surprise to my doorstep:

A HUGE Diet Coke and some cinnamon rolls...

It was a small and simple gift, but rare and beautiful and full of love.
As I took a long drink, my spirit took in a deep breath, and I heard Victor Hugo's words in my mind, "To love another person is to see the face of God."

Thanks, ladies.  You made my day.  I love you both!

When have you had an unexpected kindness brighten your day?


Sunday, July 22, 2012

How Much Should a Blogger Reveal?

I had a conversation the other day with a blogging buddy of mine (my blind date) that didn't last too long because we quickly moved onto other topics since we were in full getting-to-know-you-mode.

Our brief conversation was about honesty.  How much do we as bloggers reveal to the audience at large, knowing that on some level someone who reads your blog will probably unfriend you on Facebook (no big deal) or confront you in the produce aisle at the local grocery store (terrifying, especially if you're with your kids) about something you wrote.

I censor myself more rigorously than a 1950's banned books committee.  Don't get me wrong--my feelings about the guy who digs through my trash is a pillar of emotional and literary honesty.   My feelings about people being fabulous was honest as well.  However, I often don't write about the social issues that I believe in, trouble me, and would like to see change.

Part of that is because there are others more eloquent than I who express their ideas with such passion that I don't really see the need.  And at the same time...part of me would like to stand on the rooftop and declare my political and social beliefs that would get me shamed right out of my small town Mormon culture.  I can't go a day without being invited to a "Mormons for Mitt" BBQ.  It was kind of funny when I declined the Facebook invite with the phrase, "I'm a Democrat and a vegetarian...can I still come?"

Hm.  I haven't heard back from them yet.     

What about you?  Do you find yourself censoring what you blog about?  Why?  

Friday, July 20, 2012

My Blind Date

I had my very first blind date on Wednesday afternoon.  Here is a picture of my date.------------->

Sherilee is the first blogger I've met since this journey began where we had a relationship online before we met in person.  She writes over at Sweet Tea and Sunshine.  And she is a hoot--check her out!!

It was so refreshing to meet someone I've read and enjoyed for quite a while.  I look forward to lunch again soon, and possibly meeting other bloggers too!

Have you met blogging friends in person?  Was it all you hoped for?   

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

The Music of the Night

O.k. friends, here's the dilemma:  Every summer I am ready to hit the road and crank the volume on the radio and drive away to the wild blue yonder.  Yet, every summer, I put in my tried and true favorite summer time tunes and I am reminded by how utterly uncool I am.

My fabulous youth was consumed with Joan Baez, Peter Paul and Mary, A-Ha, U2, Indigo Girls, Lionel Richie--don't mock, he's so uncool that he's spun all the way around back into cool again--and every other cool 80's pop band.  Of course, I listen to all sorts of new things, but I'm looking for the quintessential "summertime" cd.

And I have one question for you:

What is your essential summertime album?

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Living in Denial

So here's the thing that's been on my mind for the last few days:

I'm not a denier.  I don't live in denial.  A denier ( in my opinion) is someone who (figuratively) smells smoke in the night, gets up, opens the window and then goes back to bed.  They are the people who are SHOCKED that their child is busted for selling drugs--even though he's been moody, losing weight and he has a ton of cash to throw about.

I'm not one of those people.  There's nothing I can't discuss.  Seriously, sex, drugs, alcohol, pornography, incest, affairs, famine, globalization--whatever--I'm your gal.  Basically what I'm saying is that I don't have a difficult time talking about much.  So living in denial really hasn't ever been a problem for me.  

Then it occurred to me that during the last round of "Dancing With the Stars" that I had no idea who half of the contestants were.
Then it occurred to me that I don't really know why the Kardashians are famous--which, upon a couple of Google searches, I realized that no one really knows why the Kardashians are famous...and then I didn't feel so bad.

Then there's stuff like Brazilian waxing, arched eyebrows and Fifty Shades of Grey that I don't know enough about to engage in a meaningful conversation with anyone--and it occurred to me that there's a whole lot of denial in my little world.

For instance:
The only thing I know about baseball is what I learned in elementary school.
I can't tell you anything about the periodic chart of elements--and I'm o.k. with it.
I don't know how to solve a quadratic equation, and I don't care to learn.
What's the deal with bath salts?  I have some lovely lemon basil flavored ones that I use all the time and I've never ever ONCE had the urge to chew someone's face off.

Anyway, I felt bad that there are so many things that I live in denial of.
Like, I really should get that Brazilian wax...right?

On the other hand, I figure that my head is so full of 80's song lyrics that I can't be blamed for choosing to deny unimportant cultural interests that don't really effect humankind other that to elevate the already narcissistic tendencies we share collectively.  

And I'm o.k. with that.

What are you in denial about? 

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Sleeping with the Enemy

Herbert has moved upstairs.
In case you missed the first part of the case of Herbert the mouse, read this.

Apparently, the little chat Herbert and I had together in the basement didn't do anything but encourage him to come right on up stairs and see what all the fuss was about.

Last night, he squeezed through a hole in the floor of Diastema's room.  I want you all to stand witness that I blame the fact that Herbert came upstairs all on my 8 year old son.  He's been praying that, "Herbert won't die and be able to live cute for many years to come."

And since I believe in the power of prayer, especially the power of a child's prayer--I feel that Herbert may be here to stay.

However, I am completely creeped out.  I'm ready to embrace my inner O.C.D. and clean every surface with bleach.  I want to boil my laundry, floor, and even myself.  There's no telling where that tricky Herbert may be lurking.  I feel like all those survivors on "Lost" who lived in fear of the Smoke Monster that lived in the forest--except my house is the forest, and a wee little mousey has been cast in the part of the Smoke Monster.

I'm waiting for Sawyer to show up.

I hope he gets here soon.

Do I need to feel bad about calling the exterminator tomorrow?  
And, why am I so creeped out by a mouse?  
Up until relatively recently, humans lived with creepy crawly things all the time, when did I become so separated from nature?  Sheesh...I need a therapist.