But, really, the thing I wanted to write about today was my dissertation.  I was talking to my mom on the phone last night and I said—probably for the first time out loud—that I didn’t think I was ever going to finish it.  And sometimes I just say stuff like that, but in that moment I realized that it was probably true.  Which, naturally, sent me into a spiral.  Except that I don’t know if it’s true or if I’m being defeatist or what.  But, honestly, if I wanted to finish it, it would be done.  But maybe it’s not want…maybe it’s can’t.  Maybe I can’t finish it.  And then maybe I’m a big fucking failure.

On the other hand, what if I only want to finish it because I feel like I should?  Because I’m expected to?  Because I’ve promised people that I would?  Because I invested so much time and energy in it?  I don’t know anymore and that’s the problem.  When I left grad school, I thought it wouldn’t matter either way.  I was so liberated by my decision to leave I figured that in the long run whatever I decided would be the best choice.  But it’s been two and a half years now.  And the decision doesn’t seem any clearer than it did when I left.  In fact, I think it’s murkier now than it ever was.  And there are issues of money and time and logistics and my career.  None of it leads me anywhere.

I spent a good hour or so crying my eyes out over it last night and though I’m calmer this morning, I’m no more certain of anything.  I talked to Payton a bit about it, which happened in a weak moment, but I think turned out to be a good thing.  I’ve been keeping back some things from him (not lying or anything, just not particularly sharing some things that are kind of important) so it was nice to be able to talk about something serious with him and get his thoughts.  I don’t know if I agree with a lot of what he said, but it was important to get his perspective.  Besides, he needs to get used to the fact that this is kind of how I am.  I freak out about stuff.  If he can’t/doesn’t want to handle that, we’re going to have a problem.

So this is something I really need to think about.  I don’t quite know how.  I need a plan or something but I don’t even know how to get to that point.  The issue is so fraught with history and emotion that it’s nearly impossible to be rational about it.

(Today’s quote…”When You Got a Good Thing” by Lady Antebellum)

Love, love, love…all we need is love.  Well, I know that’s how the lyrics to some of the love songs from years gone by went, and while it is a lovely sentiment, there’s more to life than love.  But without love, one could argue that life isn’t worth much.  It is love that seems to make it worthwhile.  We need to not only be loved, but to learn to love others, if our lives are to be all they could be.

While on a recent walk with the dog one evening, we went past a pipe that stood vertically up out of the ground in a field.  I suspect it is used somehow for irrigation, but I’m not sure.  But it wasn’t the usage of the pipe that interested me…it was what was printed on the pipe, which is the subject of today’s photo.

Prone as I am to strange thoughts, my first reaction was that some human had painted the words and symbols on the pipe and then probably took his girlfriend for a walk where she might see it.  He was trying to communicate something of his love for her (or hers for him – I don’t know why I assume it was a guy who was responsible for it!).  That was my first thought.  But here’s where it gets weird: what if, just what if it was the pipe itself who put that message there for all of us who walk by?  We know animals can love.  I don’t know about plants or other things like that, but who is to say that a pipe can’t have dreams of love, too?

And, even if it can’t, I’d like to think that love could be so pervasive that plants or pipes or rocks or rivers could in their own way, love, too.  Maybe plants try to show their love to us by giving us shade, or food.  Rivers may do it by the swirling, gurgling sounds they emit.  Rocks by being solid – reassuring.

I realize it’s not likely and probably impossible, but wouldn’t it be great if we all learned and believe that we are all so very special and unique and greatly loved…and if we could learn to love others the same way?

Go hug a pipe!

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY: in 1836, Samuel Colt got the patent for the Colt .45.

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: you may think you know what the @ sign is called.  We typically call it that “at” sign.  But it have different names and meanings depending on the language:

For instance, some quirky names for the @ symbol include:

apenstaartje - Dutch for “monkey’s tail”

snabel - Danish for “elephant’s trunk”

kissanhnta -- Finnish for “cat’s tail”

klammeraffe -- German for “hanging monkey”

papaki -- Greek for “little duck”

kukac - Hungarian for “worm”

dalphaengi - Korean for “snail”

grisehale -- Norwegian for “pig’s tail”

sobachka -- Russian for “little dog”

Now I bet you’re sorry you asked!  Oh, wait…you didn’t ask…

Ali, Honolulu.  Milo, New York City.  5000 miles separate us.  Great for frequent flyer awards.  Bad for auntie and Milo bonding…

It’s hard for me to miss out on Milo’s growth.  During his first year, I was lucky to see him at 2, 6, 8, and 9 months.  Each time, he was a little bigger, a little more vocal, a little more wiggly and mobile!  Even during the week or two of my visits, I could see daily changes.  Babies grow too fast!

What about us adults?  What changes are we making?  What new skills are we learning?  Are we improving with age?

A few years ago, I had a chance to see Mikhail Baryshnikov perform in Honolulu.  Although he’s now in his 60’s, his dancer’s body was still strong, sculpted, and flexible, but of course not to the degree when his career was at its zenith.  One particularly charming piece had him partnered on stage with himself – film footage of himself, that is, taken when he was in his prime.  The young Baryshnikov on film would do a series of gravity-defying leaps and bounds, and then the elder Baryshnikov would “answer” with as much energy as he currently could muster.  In good humor at the end, he gave up the chase as his younger self exploded into an endless succession of dizzyingly quick pirouettes.  But Baryshnikov at 60 was still as mesmerizing and captivating as ever.  What carried his show now was his emotive facial expressions, and his performance bravado and creativity to keep forging forward.

Obviously, our physically bodies will plateau at some point and start an irrevocable downward slide to slower, weaker and  less responsive.  But in terms of intellectual, emotional, and spiritual maturity, if we could stand next to our younger self and make comparisons, are we improving?  Do we continue to stretch the edges of ourselves?

When I see Milo, wobbly but resolute to crawl another few feet, or stand for just a few seconds longer, I see an explorer, an adventurer, and a dreamer.  He may never have tried something before, but he just goes for it, expectant and giggly all the way!  This spirit of just going for it – where does it go as we get older?

With every year, we get a little more hardened, slowly more stubborn, slightly more set in our ways.  Been there, done that, we know what we want, how we want it, and who we want it from.  Maybe we’ve tried our hand at this or that, with varying degrees of success or failure, and so we think we know our outer limits as a person.  We make excuses, I’m too this, or too that, to try something new.

Well, I believe that, with faith in God, we can find the power to change and keep growing.  If we get wind of God’s purpose for us on this earth, it should spur us to action, even to try something totally new.  At the root of my optimism is the belief that my life is not my own, but belongs to God.  He is the author and finisher of my life.  That’s exciting to me!  So I’m doing it – I choose an inspired life!  In part 2 of this post, I’ll tell you how.  Stay tuned…

So many people are afraid, nervous or worried about their future, and honestly, I can completely understand. Thinking about where or what you want to be (if you have a clue) and the decisions you will have to make to get there, it can seem like this giant staring you down, daring you to try and figure it out. Maybe anxiety and worry start to kick in, possibly some fear?

Well let me tell you. that giant does not have to win the staredown. you do not have to be the first to blink.

Because of this promise, in Isaiah 43:19,
“Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.”

That ^ is why the giant doesn’t have to win! Because God is making a way in the desert. He already has a plan for you. all you have to do is – ok, well I don’t want to just say “all you have to do” because it is a lot easier said than done and can be a daily struggle – be willing to trust in the Lord, and obey Him. His plan for us is written out like a book, but it does us no good if we won’t follow the instructions.

I feel like I am glimpsing now a tiny bit of what God has for me in the future; it is such a small taste of what my adventure of a life is going to be. God has planted in my heart a desire to be wild and crazy and do something not even I would expect myself to do, much less my friends and family. I am convinced that God is preparing me to step out and up into the ministry He will one day place me into. I know that where I am now is not where I will always be. That’s scary, and I am working that out with Him But I’m not afraid. I’m not. And I’m pretty sure the Lord gave me a word that describes what I have been feeling in my spirit lately: Hope. I feel like that’s what it all comes back to. Hope. I am seeing the hope He’s awakening in me, and the hope He’s rising up in this generation, this city, and in His bride.

It’s a lot.

It’s springing up.

However, as I am currently living in the thesis-writing swamp, I rarely come around here, much less do I have time to actually write anything intelligent. Life has caught up with me. 

After april 1st, though, I will probably have all the time in the world for blogging.

Until then, I have a family to care for and a thesis to write. A thesis about social media. Oh, the irony. 

I was floored. The tears flooded my eyes at such insensitive and thoughtless comments and I could not hide my feelings from MOH who was at once horrified and (if I hadn’t held him back bless him) violent in his response. Once he was calm and had assured me that said douche-bag was a ridiculous fool, I sat and considered what had just happened.

I have always considered myself a reasonably attractive woman, who “scrubbed up all right” as we say in Australia. Never gorgeous, but had turned some heads in my time. In my time. Was that time now over? Was I now overnight a hag, who would now forever face my falling and fading visage in the mirror? I have noticed the lessening of my ‘bounce back’ – where your sleepy and creased face regains it’s natural proportions within 10 minutes of rising. Now I have to do my homework at night and preparations in the morning when it comes to my skin-care regime. But I still thought I was doing Ok for a woman of 42.

Then to add insult to injured self-esteem, I was shopping with one of the ladies a couple of days after the pub event, and was asked by the very sweet shop assistant if I was helping my daughter to pick out gifts for our family. I turned, incredulous to my friend and demanded “What the hell did I do to my face this week?” One instance was an asshole, two had me questioning my sanity!

We hear all the time of 40 being the new 30 (or 50 the new 40), but there is a distinct difference in our life experience and how it is worn on our face. Every happiness, regret, vice and loss is shown in the lines on our face. If I consider the intensity of change in my life that has happened since I turned 30, then I should perhaps take those comments with more than just shock and horror. I have earned every line and dot on my face. Good, bad or ugly, I am the sum of my experiences and should not my face reflect those earnings? When I think back and compare myself at 30 to now, I would never swap the last 12 years for dewy youth my face may have shown at that time. MOH still thinks I’m beautiful and sexy, and I am happier and more challenged and content now than I ever was at 30.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am off to the dermatologist next week to ask for some help. But it won’t be surgical. I will work with what I have and try to appreciate more that I am real and my face is true to my life.

• I love the peaceful quietness of the cemetery;
• I find myself growing pensive about life as I wander among the tombstones and I believe the reflection that I experience about life is good and positive;
• I find the words and sentiments carved into the stones to be fascinating;
• I am drawn to the artistry of the monuments and sculpture.

On the eastern edge of the village of Cloverdale, California, tucked into the wine country of Sonoma County’s northernmost edge, is the Cloverdale cemetery, known as Riverside Cemetery because of its proximity to the Russian River, directly east of the cemetery.  The earliest markers there date from the 1860′s, pre-dating Cloverdale’s incorporation by twelve years.  I’ve wandered that cemetery several times taking photos.  I’d like to visit it again.

Today’s photo is of one of the sculptures that stands atop a burial plot.  Look at the detail of the sculpture – how the hair sweeps in ripples over the ear; the intricacy of the nose, lips and eyes; the pure child-like skin of the hands without wrinkle or blemish.  This visage is not an angel – there are no wings on the sculpture.  I don’t recall the tomb itself or who it was for, but I can’t help but wonder if it was supposed to be the likeness of a grieving mother, wife, sister or lover, or if it was to be the likeness of the deceased, now transformed into eternal youth, gazing downward where the mortal remains sleep?  Her robe folds easily and loosely around her as her right arm embraces a cross.  It appears that the cross is what upholds her – but is it in her hopes for the beloved or for herself – or both?  Could it be that the longing downward gaze is just waiting the rising of the departed and she refuses to take her eyes off the spot where she looks for fear of missing the first movement?  Though the stone and marble may be mottled with time, there is still something timeless in the expression of the face and the hope pictured here!

Ah, cemeteries.  What magical places to ponder life, meaning, death – and love.  It is my belief we’d all be a bit wiser about how we live life if we spent more time wandering among those silent cities!

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY: in 1725, the first Indian scalping of a white man was reported in the New Hampshire territory.

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: pieces of bread were used to erase lead pencil markings before rubber came into use.

There were beautiful things there.  The clothing of the women was so colorful and lovely.  The countryside had a stark, well-used beauty to it.  The faces of the people – whether young or old – told stories that no imagination could conjure.

There were lovely flowers, too.  Today is a picture of one that I shot, but it isn’t really about flowers.  It is about the beauty of the children we saw…like fragile flowers just barely coming to life in the sun, so full of color and warmth and laden with possibilities.  Their eyes sparkled like the dew as they took in the sights and sounds of the world around them, they delighted in their dogs and friends and in the simplest of toys: an empty can, a stick, a discarded bottle or piece of clothing.  They were like the morning flowers that believed that life was yet ahead of them and that each day might bring new delights and joys.  They seemed oblivious to their desperate poverty or low status as Dalits.  And why shouldn’t they be oblivious to it?  They are of equal worth to presidents, kings, princesses and stars.

The problem isn’t with them…it is with us and how we see them.  The problem is with those who don’t see these children as the beautiful creation that they are, but who see them as objects to exploit, own and possess.  A day of reckoning will come for them – and for the children whose lives become a living hell because of the greed and power of others who should have cared for, loved and protected them.  And that’s all of us!

There are literally hundreds of millions of these child flowers growing up all over India.  May we all learn to love them!

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY: in 1807, Aaron Burr became the first vice-president of the United States to be arrested.  He was charged with treason for plotting an invasion of Mexico.

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: Quicksand consists of a buoyant blend of round granules of light sand, blended with water, or of light soil and gritty mud, or of mud peppered with pebbles. Water injects itself into the grains of any one of these mixtures, which separates and lifts them, causing them to tumble over one another, and rendering them helpless to support weighty objects.  Quicksand typically surfaces near the deltas of mighty rivers, or near shores, where a layer of stiff clay below collects and retains the water. Quicksand does not suck unsuspecting victims to their untimely deaths, a theory espoused my most until recently. This nightmarish theory did, however, provide good fodder for a host of low-budget horror films!

I realize I’m not the hottest guy, I’m not the most fit, I don’t have the best hair, the best jawline, the most attractive qualities. But for all my flaws, I… well, I accept them. I want to be genuine, and to prove that I can adequate at least. I develop a tunnel vision of sorts, and in that tunnel, I feel overlooked, wanted only when convenient for a need or want, and basically friendzoned yet again. But I don’t understand why. If it’s true — which I don’t know for sure — then what did I do wrong? Did I say something? Do something? Did I wear the wrong thing? Smell the wrong way? React poorly to a situation? I wish I would be told what I did wrong, so I could pinpoint it, amend it, and return to the field of battle better prepared for the next one.

I suppose the one bonus in all of this is that I think I’m becoming bolder, and more of an alpha-male… at least until my reason to fight is taken. At which point, all my progress will have been 1 step forward, 3 steps back, right into hermitish solitude. And my stone-like heart bleeds once again, reminding me that no matter how black and hard it may seem on the outside, it’s still capable of opening and being exposed. And I don’t like that, because it hurts too much.

Well… that’s enough brain vomit for one night. I’ll try to give in to the tired, and ignore the contemplative, so perhaps I can escape my demons for a few hours, and hopefully the dawn will bring new council. Until next time, my dear readers.

***

Post Script: I will take my own advice. I will steel my resolve, I will not roll over and die, I will fight. I will show you how great I am. I’m willing to fight and die for that one extra inch I need. Life cannot keep me on my knees permanently, because I am choosing to fight and press on. I am not inadequate, but I am powerful beyond measure. I merely have to let my own light shine, and not be afraid of what others may think. Sum invictus. I am unconquerable.

Americans see the world one way – people from the Middle East, Israel, Russia, China, North or South Korea, Argentina, Haiti, India – though we’re all people, we have a set of experiences that color how we see life and the role we play in it.

In India last June, we were in Mumbai (formerly Bombay) and we were walking down what appeared to be an alleyway when I came across a scene where there was a child leaning out of a window.  We must have made quite a curious sight because not only did this child find our passing of interest, but we attracted the attention of nearly everyone that was in the alley or the buildings that lined it on both sides.  After all, I’m sure it isn’t every day that they see a parade of well-off Americans wandering down their alleyway.

As I reflected on this picture today, I found myself wondering what this child did today.  Here in the United States we have been celebrating President’s Day, but I’m sure that this child did no such thing.  How did he feel today?  Did they go anywhere?  How much have they had to eat?  What does this child dream of some day doing?  Where would he live if he had a choice?  What does he think of Americans, if he thinks of us at all?  What will become of this little one, beloved by his family?

Pictures capture faces and moments in time that are frozen forever and sometimes we forget that the people and creatures in the pictures are never frozen in that way.  They live, move, breath…eat, sleep, and die…though the picture would try to tell us otherwise.  Perhaps one of the greatest challenges of being a good photographer (which I don’t claim to be) is to care about people and their stories.  To be able to capture them, for a fraction of a second, is a rare privilege that one should never take for granted.

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY: in 1908, the first United States postage stamps were sold.  The price: one cent each.

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: Bermuda has no islands or lakes.  The inhabitants must use rain water if they are to use naturally occurring water.

Writer, painter, bossy law makerActor, dancer, story enhancer
Friendly, silly, pale as a lily
Loyal, fun, lover of the sun

I am me and me I amAt times I feel a bit of a sham
For parts of me are not always seen
I am a faceted human being!

My husband is my best friend and he knows things about me that other people don’t.  However, he has never seen me act on stage – something I used to do for many years.  He hasn’t been privy to my ballet recitals and I never really got to show him what I could do on the touch rugby field.

On the other hand, my mother (I’m sure) lives in constant surprise that I am a neat-freak now.  My ex-flatmates would be pleasantly surprised that I can now cook more than roast chicken and everyone I ever knew in my past life would be shocked at how hard I work to be on time.

The things that haven’t changed are my nocturnal tendencies, baking addiction and those long phone conversations.

Rekindling my friendship with aforementioned old flatmate made me realise that I couldn’t put her in the same box she used to fit in.  She has traveled, we both have had children, and she has been through things I know nothing about and vice versa.  Yes, she is still the same person and I knew her well during our university years – but there is a gap in my knowledge that means I can’t presume.

Everybody knows part of me – my parents had the best seat while I was growing up – my husband now has it.  But nobody, excepting God, has the whole picture.  Not even me.  I am still surprised when others share their observations.  And I think it is true that there are others that know me (or part of me) better than I know myself.

Anyway, thems my thoughts – I’m off to drink a coffee (something I only started doing at 18) and watch the cricket (something I have always liked to do).

Leadership is a funny thing, and when you find yourself in a leadership position, you see secrets in your own personality – highlights and flaws the same.  In these moments, the times when others’ attitudes and opinions flying and your emotions are high and there are plenty of things to say running through your mind, these are the moments that define you as a leader.  that decision that has to be made right then.  the choice to either speak your mind and give into the emotion of the situation, or to stop, think, and try and respond in the best way possible.  can you be firm with the one being distracting, gentle with the quiet one, and laugh at all of their silly, adolescent antics? just today I found myself failing at this; I was beginning to lose it, beginning to give into the chaos ensueing in the backseat, beginning to feel overwhelmed.  I was short. I was sassy. and, not surprisingly, it didn’t help in any way at all.  looking back, I wish I had just turned up the radio, let them talk, and remained calm despite the girl I had lost track of in the mall. (I found her quickly, by the way!) Because, in the end, we all ended up where we needed to be, with time to spare.  and ultimately, I learned a lot in a very short amount of time. I learned that if I ever hope for these kids to be able to be the best leaders they can be, I have to first learn myself.  learning in the moment is not always the easiest method, and sometimes it takes afternoons like this one, to understand what it truly looks like to be a leader. 

To me, though, being a good leader is not just being able to hold my tongue and resolve conflicts.  I desire to show the heart of God, and only when I’m doing that, will I succeed at anything else. Evidence of this success: after all the craziness I previously hinted at, later in the day I had an opportunity to pray for some of the teens I lead.  believe me, I so very wanted to stay in my chair and be tired, but I got up.  after praying for and encouraging an 8th grade boy, my attitude had done a complete 180. and it wasn’t even intentional. no motivational speech, no pep talk. just shifting my focus from myself onto another person. showing him a piece of God’s heart by encouraging him.

I love “my” kids, and I am blessed to be a leader. and I am beginning to understand in a new way the idea that  a leader is SO much more than a position or title. But is this: selflessness, sacrifice, compromise, caring, loving without terms, listening, hugging, crying, laughing, giving the best advice you’ve got, and hoping they make it through the week.

Being a leader is being a friend with influence. don’t abuse the influence, and don’t ever, ever, give up on your followers.

This is one topic I’ve been mulling over a bit… Women shouldn’t have to be men to be successful in the workplace.

—

On Charlotte Lucas’ Choice || New Yorker

Actually I’ve always wondered why Charlotte Lucas agreed to marry Mr Collins, being the twat that he was. I understood she may have thought it impossible to find anyone to marry, but I wondered why she would rather marry than be single.

Btw, Charlotte Lucas is a character in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

—

Then I felt it again, tonight. This was a quiet rage, though. It slowly built as I learned more about a particular situation, until it culminated in the same adrenaline-infused, tunnel-vision anger I had felt just a few days before.

At least I controlled myself both times, and didn’t release it. That’s got to count for something, right? But how long can I keep this up? How long until I finally snap, and my emotions get funneled into a rage-fueled volcano? I don’t know. I feel I need something to quell the anger, something to douse it permanently and quickly, before I lash out & do something I regret.
I’m like a sleeping dragon: quiet and peaceful on the outside, full of fire and the very wrath of God on the inside. And all I can do is watch, wait, and hope to keep the dragon calm.

Until next time, friends,
Smaug, er, Sam Invictus

But I don’t know why I’m a leper. Or how it came to be. I’m trying to better myself, I’m learning to accept me for being me. But am I just THAT different? And I just too far out there to find my missing puzzle piece? I’m told to love myself, because if I can’t do that, then who can love me? I don’t know. And I’m getting so sick of trying. I don’t want a pity date, I don’t want a fuck buddy, I don’t want superficial. I just want a companionship. I want a Sam to my Frodo, a Rose to my Doctor, a helper as I help her. I know I’m not the most attractive, the smartest, fastest, maturest, or anything-est, but I just want (as cliche as this sounds) a soul mate. Someone I can love and not worry about second guessing, someone I can be absolutely insane with. Someone I can work out with, be nerdy with, go shooting & camping with, or just snuggle & watch random movies with. I know it’s a tall order, and finding someone with all these traits will be one in a million — if the odds are even THAT good. I don’t want to settle, but at the same time, I don’t want to wait… so I’m stuck here. Alone in a crowd, suspended in time. A leper.

I believe more-so with each passing day that we Americans have made our lives much more complicated than they need to be.  We have done that mostly with amassing “stuff”.  We like to think that we own it … but I think that often, it winds up “owning” us.  You buy all the appliances and what happens?  They sell you extended warranties (which still have deductibles.) and the appliances still break and have to be repaired.  The more clothes we have, the more clothes we have to wash.  The more cars we own, the bigger out insurance, gas, maintenance and repair bills.  The more electronic gizmos we have, the more we want – and we want the newest ones, of course, as soon as they come out!

Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve been like that for years.  But recently, for a variety of reasons, my wife and I decided to simplify our lives.  When we moved from Cloverdale to Georgia last year, we got rid of a TON of stuff.  When we moved from Georgia back to California at the end of August, we got rid of a TON more stuff.  Then, when we moved from Cloverdale to where we now reside, we got rid of multiple TONS of more stuff!  And we didn’t add to the pile in the meantime!!!!

We downsized.  We want to live bi-coastally so we can be near all our kids and grand kids at least some of the time.  Rather than renting a house to fill up with stuff again, we got a fifth-wheel and are full-timing it, living by choice in our fifth wheel.  For the time being (most of 2013) we’ll be sitting in one place…and that’s simple, too.

How are we doing?  So far, so good. It’s been an interesting transition, and felt wonderfully “freeing” to not have so much junk!  My wife hasn’t killed me or even yelled at me yet.  I’ve not yelled at her.  The dog is doing fine.  We even got a sign proclaiming our new “simple life” and hung it outside by the front of the fifth-wheel (oops…we bought that, didn’t we?!?!?!  See how hard it is to not buy more “stuff”?)  Along with that sign is the “Welcome” sign with the cut-out shape of my favorite breed of dog – boxers.

So, if you happen to drive by and see this sign – drop on in and say “Hi!”  We’re not fancy…but we sure do love our family and friends!

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY: in 1971, the three-man US spacecraft Apollo 14 was launched to the moon.  The astronauts landed on February 5 and made two moonwalks. It was the first launch of the Apollo since the nearly disastrous Apollo 13 mission.

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: It would take 11 Empire State Buildings, stacked one on top of the other, to measure the Gulf of Mexico at its deepest point.

I had lived successfully in Auckland for three years without a vehicle but suddenly I was gripped with an urgency to possess something with a motor, four wheels and, preferably, doors I could lock.  Relying on friends to pick me up for coffee, movies, church was no longer acceptable.  I no longer wanted to walk with a backpack stuffed with groceries, weighed down with milk in one arm and a sack of potatoes in the other.  I was completely over a carless existence.

And so I bought a 1989 Toyota Corona for $3 500. Ahhhh. It needed a bit of work to make it roadworthy but five hundred dollars later it was mine and I was giddy with the freedom it allowed me.

I sold that car four years later for $1 000.  I think it had cost me (on top of the original price and extra $500) a few thousand dollars for steering, CV boots, tires, etc.  After I got over the sentimental attachment, I was actually happy to say goodbye.  We upgraded and have since upgraded again.  And after the most recent Christmas, I have been thinking about what it takes to make us (as humans) content.

My sister and her husband would love to buy a house – a topic of conversation over the holiday period.  My husband and I own a house but would love to get a bigger place.  They would be happy with our place yet we want more.  Funny isn’t it?

There is a part of me that realises that striving and working towards a goal is a part of our human psyche.  Therefore the car, the house, that new computer, an up-to-date wardrobe – all of these things are not bad things to want or save for.  However, where do we stop?  Recently a well-known celebrity demanded a few million more for her appearance as a judge in a talent show.  The millions she already received weren’t enough.  It seems extravagant, but we are all guilty of it.  We want what we do not have and then when we reach the object of our desire, we then look to the next thing.

The dictionary definition of contentedness is: Being satisfied with things as they are.  It’s a challenge, especially if the proverbial Jones’ are constantly flaunting the latest, greatest whatever.  There are also things that we shouldn’t be satisfied with – we don’t leave broken things unmended, so why not improve upon that which can be improved?  Clearly, there is no easy answer – it is in us to reach for the stars, but when our dreams make us miserable then it’s time to wake up and recognise the good things that surround us.

Needless to say, I have fond memories of my first car, but I’m glad they are just memories and not my present reality

Three Main Brands of Tea Tree Shampoo that I Found People Talking About:

1. The Gold Standard: Paul Mitchell’s Tea Tree Shampoo Largest is a 1 gallon behemoth. Cost on Amazon is: $68.99 for 1 Gallon.

2. The Generic: Generic Value Product’s Tea Tree Shampoo Largest is a 32 oz bottle (same brand sold at Sally’s Beauty Supply…and no… I’m not into hair products I just know how to compile and synthesize information  ^_^). Cost on Amazon and a local beauty supply place I visited: $10.99 for 32 oz.

3. Trader Joe’s Brand: Trader Joe’s Tea Tree Tingle Shampoo Largest is a 16 oz bottle. Cost on Amazon is ridiculous. Don’t buy it there. Get it from Trader Joe’s: $3.99 for 16 oz.

Unfortunately as you can see, these all come in different shapes/sizes and associated costs.  Hence, what gives us the most volume for our hard earned dollars ???

By standardizing the costs to a 1 Gallon volume purchase the clear cost leader for your Tea Tree Experience is: Trader Joe’s Tea Tree Tingle Shampoo.

Again, DO NOT buy from Amazon as they charge way more for this. Get it from your local TJ’s for $3.99.

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Disclaimer:  I do not work for Trader Joe’s.  I have been using this product for a week and very happy with the experience and savings so far.

What does it mean when someone dies of “Cardiac Arrest”?

Technically,  If someone dies, but you aren’t sure what it was that got to them first – whether it was that they got guillotined, drowned, happened to have a stroke at the time they were set on fire, run over with a large tractor etc…

Cause of Death: Cardiac Arrest.

This was a song from my teen years (at least the first verse of it).  Do you recall it?

It seems like sometimes it is a long journey back home, doesn’t it?  Just yesterday I spent some time talking on the phone with some cousins who still live in Iowa, where we were all born.  I’ve not been there for a long time.  This coming summer, however, there is a family reunion and I sure am hoping to be able to go.  There is always something about going home.  To those who say you can never go home again, I disagree.  All we have to do is to decide to do it – no matter what.

As we were walking our dog the other day, we took a new route.  And Lucy loved it.  You can almost see her prancing in this picture as we took the long way home….

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY:  In 1956, Elvis Presley appeared on national television for the first time on “The Dorsey Brothers Show”. Elvis sang “Blue Suede Shoes” and “Heartbreak Hotel”, backed by the Dorsey band.

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: Stuart (or Stewart) is the most famous “occupational” name in Scotland, and was the name of a line of kings and queens which lasted almost 350 years.

It’s no secret that I am obsessed with my dog. I seriously cannot think of a cuter thing on the planet (except maybe a few babies, like my niece and nephews, for instance. But I suppose I’m biased).

The good news is, the hubs is equally as in love with our crazy little ball of fu, Emma the Australian Terrier, as I am. The bad news is, she is a very spoiled pup.

Someday when she has a human brother or sister, and her parents have to split their love and affection (I hear babies are a little bit time consuming), she will probably be very confused.
Emma’s birthday bone was bigger than her last year. 

But, until that day arrives, lucky Emma is the center of our little family. She’s the boss of the house (Caesar Milan would NOT approve), and a source of constant entertainment.

To commemorate our love for the little fur ball, I even commissioned a portrait of Emma in all her cuteness-overload-glory as a Christmas gift for the hubby.

And by “commissioned”, I mean that I ordered a custom pet portrait from the talented Nicole Chen of The Stardust Studio Etsy shop.

I sent Nicole a few of my favorite snapshots of Emma, and she created this lovely painting that totally captures Emma’s signature wide-eyed “aren’t I the cutest thing you’ve ever seen” expression.

A puppy portrait? Now that is love.

We were fortunate enough to enjoy a day off this past holiday weekend, and so we took Emma for an extra long walk in the park on Monday morning.

She did some running & frolicking, and stayed nice & cosy in her Boots & Barkley argyle jacket (from Target). She’s a total prepster.

So speaking of things we buy for our dog, the hubs found this really neat service called BarkBox, and signed Emma up for monthly deliveries. BarkBox sends a package of toys and treats, specifically selected for your dog’s size.

Image from BarkBox.com

The subscription (which can be by the month, or for 3 or 6 months at a time – with bigger savings as you increase your deliveries) comes with a special bonus – as BarkBox donates 10% of all their proceeds to local animal shelters. As a subscriber, you learn about the shelters BarkBox is supporting, and you can even recommend local animal shelters to BarkBox.

Emma’s first BarkBox (of the Small & Cute size) arrived over the weekend. We helped her open it up, and she immediately discovered the bag of Nootie treats. Also included was an all natural, 100% beef Barkworthies Chew, a sturdy-looking rope Jax and Bones Octopus (named Elton & voted Best Pet Toy by Pet Product News) and a rubber peanut (the Ruff Dawg “Wee-Nut” … ha) that can be filled with yummy treats.

We’re pretty sure she liked it.

BarkBox seems like a relatively affordable way to treat your dog to new toys & treats, learn about doggie products (like shampoos, and healthy, all-natural treats). Emma’s subscription is less than $20 a month, with free shipping. I did a little research and found the retail value for each item in her box – adding everything up to get a total closer to $30.

What do you guys think? Sure, we’re probably a tad over indulgent when it comes to out little pup- but it’s a small price to pay for the absolute JOY that she gives us on a daily basis. She is part therapist (she literally licks the tears off my face when I’m sad), part comedian, and part foot-warmer during our evening couch/TV sessions.

Do you have a pet that you love to death? Tell me about him or her! I love to swap pet tails…I mean tales.

The Kissingest Place on Earth is not the Eiffel Tower.  It’s not Niagara Falls, in spite of the many honeymoons spent there.  I think it is at Turtle Beach, outside of Manteca, CA.

Why do I saw such a crazy thing?  Well, because of the mistletoe that’s all over in the trees around here.  Here’s some stuff you may not have known about mistletoe, courtesy of Wikipedia:

“In cultures across pre-Christian Europe, mistletoe was seen as a representation of divine male essence (and thus romance, fertility and vitality).

“According to Pliny the Elder, the Celts considered it a remedy for barrenness in animals and an antidote to poison.

“When Christianity became widespread in Europe after the 3rd century AD, the religious or mystical respect for the mistletoe plant was integrated to an extent into the new religion. In some way that is not presently understood, this may have led to the widespread custom of kissing under the mistletoe plant during the Christmas season. The earliest documented case of kissing under the mistletoe dates from 16th century England, a custom that was apparently very popular at that time.

“Winston Graham reports a Cornish tradition that mistletoe was originally a fine tree from which the wood of the Cross was made, but afterwards it was condemned to live on only as a parasite.”

Without further ado, here’s photographic evidence of this happy, kissing place!  (And yes, I have kissed my lovely bride under the mistletoe…more than once!!!  Just look at all that mistletoe!!

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY: King Louis XVI of France was guillotined for treason in 1793. He had ruled since 1774 and had remained king for three years after the Revolution of 1789.  His last words were: “I die innocent of all the crimes laid to my charge; I Pardon those who have occasioned my death; and I pray to God that the blood you are going to shed may never be visited on France.”

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: Liquid water was found inside a 4.5-billion-year-old meteorite in 1999, giving scientists their first look at extraterrestrial water.

I have a long history with the San Joaquin River.  I first laid eyes on it back in about 1963 or so when our family moved to Antioch.  I was just in junior high (now middle school) at the time.  Near Antioch, the river is about 3/4 mile across.  Not so here.  I would guess that it’s maybe 100-150 yards across.  It’s hard to estimate distance over water.

As I thought about this picture, I thought about how much rivers are like life.  They usually flow along, but there are occasional droughts, floods, ripples, currents, blockages and the lot which make life more challenging – and if we’re honest, more  interesting.  Can you imagine how boring life would be if every day were identical to the one before it (can you remember the movie, Groundhog Day?)

Every day is different…much more different than we think.  We don’t say the same things every day, or hear the same things.  We don’t think the same things or eat the same things.  We don’t see, smell, taste, touch the same things every day.  Every day is a unique, special creation.  We just don’t often see it that way.

I can’t remember, but I think it was some ancient thinker from India who said that no man ever steps in the same river twice.  Sure, they may step into the Ganges or San Joaquin every day, but it’s not the same river.  The chemical composition changes daily.  Different water molecules are being carried past. Different sediment is on the bottom.  The fishes are different.  The water that touched a person’s foot on Monday is long gone come Tuesday, so they never touch the same river twice.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could get past our boredom with “routine” and begin to see each day as remarkably wonderful, full of possibilities and exciting discoveries to be made?  Sometimes all it takes is taking the time to think about it a bit instead of just live it!

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY: in 1858, Italian revolutionary Felice Orsini threw bombs at Napoleon III in Paris in an assassination attempt; several were killed but the emperor was unharmed.

TRIVIA FOR TODAY: the Australian term “zot” means to knock out or kill quickly, as in “Will someone please zot that fly?”