Mother Dearest

Kath, at My Funny Little Life, has awarded me The Liebster Blog.  It is such a sweet thought to be a little blog that is on a list of “favorites” to someone. (Kath told us that in German “Liebster” means dearest, or favorite.)  I hope you visit her because she is one of my favorites, too.

I liked her idea if acceptance and sharing: not only writing about the blogs that she is awarding, but also listing some of the things that give her joy.  I’m going to copycat on that one.

Here is my partial list of things that are dearest to me in life.  (I purposely don’t include people…the list would be too long.)

Water.  I love the sound of it; a fountain in the garden, a stream trickling by or ocean waves pounding the shore.

Music.  There isn’t much music that I don’t like.  Heavy Metal?  I’m not wild about the big band sound or Dixieland Jazz.  My favorite music genres are Opera (La Traviata is my top fave) and Blues/Gospel.  This doesn’t account for the times that I soothe myself with classical piano or flute…or dance my way through salsa…or fall in love all over again to romantic ballads.

Food:  I love to cook.  I love to eat what I cook.  I’m hard-pressed to choose favorites but southern Italian cuisine always grabs me.  I love good Chinese.  Sushi, YUM!  Chili

Chile Rellenos

Rellenos.   Or just give me fresh vegetables and a well-cooked piece of fish.  There you go, I love to eat.

Conversation:  I love intense, soulful, intellectual, examine-feelings-and-ideas-from-all-sides conversation.  I don’t mind if it’s a bit combative.  I don’t mind if it is emotional.  I can take sad, glad, or anything but just cocktail party chat.

Reading (or listening to recorded books):  I tend to read books on different philosophies (Buddhism, Taosim, Mind-over-Matterism,).  These are the books I own.  I love good fiction, too, although I am getting more and more wussy about it.  I don’t want to read suspense, violence, brutality, graphic sex or other books that may entertain…just not me.  I find myself before sleep reading early 20^th century British romance authers.  A good D. E Stevenson doesn’t keep me awake beyond three pages and doesn’t give me nightmares.

Travel:  Not just anywhere.  There are countries that don’t intrigue me.  This might change if I met a person who lived there and their life seemed very different from mine.  I tend to visit the same countries over and over: 1. Mexico, 2. Greece, 3. Italy, 4. France.  There are other countries I love and other places I want to go.  Just say the word!

And then there are the blogs.  I’m passing the Leibster Award on to some of my favorites.

My first is T-Girl at Only Temporarily Insane.  She isn’t a prolific blogger.  Yet she is always thoughtful and something resonates with me each time I read a post.

Recently I discovered Slow Happy Runner and  J. M. Monohan.  Each of these women have something to say to me.  Slow Runner is working her way through the world as a widow.  J. M. is beginning another journey, that of a writer.

Rising on the Road has taken me along on her search for Finding Life in a Death, after losing her father.  She is writes the most poetic prose I have seen from a blogger who is not listed as a poet.

Wildly different is Ramana’s Musings, a blog which reflects its title perfectly.  It covers a variety of subjects and is a glimpse into a life so completely different from mine that it helps me remember that we are all the same.  Ramana is opinionated about politics, sentimental about family, and pragmatic about the direction his life has taken.

These favorite blogs of mine may take you on some interesting journeys with me.

Thank you, again, Kath, for the opportunity of letting my readers into the lives (isn’t that what blogging is about?) of those they may not have discovered on their own.

xxoo

I just can’t help myself!

In reading blogs this a.m. (Hooray, I have internet), I pulled up Year-Struck.

She is always a delight, and this morning was not different.  In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I am writing with the only real purpose being to guide you to her wonderful commentary on increasing blog traffic, If you want to join the pantheon of the blog gods, the number one thing to remember is to make your post title short so search engines will have an easy way to find you; in other words, use key words, keep it simple, and don’t make it a complete sentence!!!

I have written my personal feelings on this a few months ago.  You can read that here.  As usual, we do what works for us.  I expressed my angst over the concept and she makes it witty and side-splitting.  It’s the touchy-feely version in juxtaposition to the LOL version.

Oh well, you know my thoughts on trying to be funny.  Lighthearted doesn’t come easily to me.  And it’s okay.  I have plenty of blogger friends to make me laugh.

If you’re a blogger…click on her post and howl.  If you aren’t a blogger…click on her post and see how cleverly Year-Stricken has made light of the advice that inundates a blogger’s  in-boxes.

xxoo

P. S.  BTW, for the non-bloggers, the term “SEO” refers to “Search Engine Optimizer”.

Alone vs. Lonely

Being alone is a privilege and a curse.  Alone can turn to lonely in the time it takes for dusk to move into a room.

Still, I have that inner urge for blocks of freedom, which I create by traveling to foreign countries.  And then, when I am away from my own home, I have moments of panic.  Will I be totally alone?  What if I am lonely?

At times, then, I recreate exactly the situation that I left behind so that I needn’t face my fear of an emotional vacuum.

I encourage the village children to read bilingual books and use art supplies on my front porch.  Their eagerness to congregate here creates contact for me, goodwill with their parents, and a sense of shared creativity with the kids.  It’s a privilege.

The curse is that the children don’t give up easily when I am busy or not in the mood.  As I lie in my hammock behind my open door I may hear a slight noise and look up to see one small eye peering through the crack.  Or I hear my name and look up to see an agile little guy hanging from the grillwork of my kitchen window.

I have other social outlets.  I can go to the beach palapas or wander into the courtyard of a local B & B.  Most days there are plenty of English speaking people scattered at tables.  In varying degrees they are welcoming and inclusive.  Some, I have grown to know through the years so I can share a meal, a walk, or an occasional refreshment.  And there are usually a few invitations to dinner.

Here’s the curse.  The ex-pat society is a bit puzzled if I separate myself from the camaraderie.  When I choose solitude in a hammock away from the crowd, I’m considered a bit odd.

The curse also includes the social side of my personality that enjoys new people, new ideas, and a sense of belonging.  None of this is a problem.  But it isn’t what I came here to do.

When I calm my fears of loneliness, my place in this village is a perfect retreat. I am accepted without obligation other than a warm greeting to those I meet.  I am welcome to stop and visit and I am free to pass by without further engagement.  I can enjoy immersing myself in the culture of the community or listen and watch without comment or participation.

The key, as always, is to make choices for myself that allow for my time alone.

Hmm…sounds like I could do that at home.

 

xxoo

…on Wanting Us to Be Together

(NOTE.  This is one of a series of requested letters that will be posted under “Form Letters” for those of you who would like an idea or a template for a letter of your own.)

I don’t like that you are so far away. This is a moment I want to share with you.

Of course, I always want us to be walking and talking together.  When I turn a corner or look over my shoulder at the sound of footsteps, I’d love to see you.  There are many moments in every day when I want you to share bits of my life.

After all, you are my life…or a huge part of it.  Your quick mind and your sense of wonder spark my own curiosity.  Your view of the world broadens mine.

Right now, I miss you especially.   When it’s time for celebration, some of the shine and shimmer is gone without you.  I’d love to capture each moment of excitement and see your eyes shine with the magic.

But we can’t experience it together.  We are separated by circumstances that we can’t change for now.  I must remember each precious bit so that we can relive it together.

And I’m not going to be sad.  I’m going to think of your face, your smile, and your laugh.  I’m going to nestle into the comfy feel of you next to me, your hand in my hand.

As I move through this time without you by my side, you are in my heart.  We are  breathing the same air as it swirls through the great distance between us. The stars  are looking down on us from the same heaven.

I love you.  I miss you.  I am with you and you are with me.

Always.

xxoo

Maybe…Maybe Not

I can make a mountain out of a molehill when it comes to responsibility.   It’s my job to take care of everything for everyone within my sphere, whether it’s needed or not.  It comes from a place of love.  And perfectionism.  And control.

 

With this sort of attitude, it shouldn’t surprise you that I can squeeze the joy out of my favorite things until they are only a smudged line on my “to-do” list. I can turn a pleasure into a dreaded obligation in the time it takes for a single thought to change from “This is fun,” to “I’d better…”

 

I travel to leave myself behind, and then I bring myself with me.  I set up expectations of myself no matter where I am because I’m convinced that if I did anything once and enjoyed it, I should do it again.  What I loved once, I should love in every situation.

 

Not!

 

Take blogging for example.

 

I love my blogs.  I love to write.  I love to express my deepest thoughts. I would have thought that even if I were writing into a silent world, I would keep clicking away on the keyboard.

 

I came on my retreat thinking…hooray…time to write.  Time to read all my favorite bloggers.

 

Wrong!

 

My Internet connection is really LOUSY.  Posting is frustrating.  Commenting is often impossible.  And I have learned to hate WordPress.  I know.  I feel guilty, but it’s the   most difficult site of all to load.

 

And I’ve pretty much lost my interest in trying to upload a photo.  For those of you who follow my travel blog, you know that even those posts are few and far between.  By the time I get around to writing, find enough bars to post, etc.; I’ve lost interest in sharing my adventures.

 

So here’s the deal.

 

I forgive myself for loving to blog at home and not loving to blog here.  I’ve already spent half of my month trying to do and be what I am there.  It’s not working here.

 

Enough.  The mountain is a molehill once again.  It is official; I’ll post when I want to, when I can, and when those two miracles happen to align.

 

xxoo

 

The Winner’s Circle

I’m in shock.  I’ve seen these awards on many of the blogs I read, I just didn’t think I’d get one.  My acceptance speech is not ready.

So I’ll just say thank you to Let’s CUT the Crap! at   That’s How the Cookie Crumbles for my Versatile Blogger award.I’m guessing we have a mutual admiration society going here.

I’m honored.

My acceptance is to include some info (x7) about myself that you may not know.

That’s a hard one.  After all, I bare my soul post after post, year after year.  Where’s the surprise?  Hmm…

1.  My skin and hair are both white.  I could disappear on a snowy day.

2.  Most of  the lies I tell are white, too.

3.  My home is colorful.

4.  My language can be colorful at times…especially after a glass of wine.  (I always told my kids that bad language was a lack of being able to express oneself.   The more I drink, the less articulate  and more colorful I become.)

5.  I can’t remember to Twitter.  Only porn types seem to want to follow me, so it’s not a worry.

6. When I do remember, I can’t think of anything interesting to say and so it is generally just self-promotion which seems to be the point anyway.

Are your bored yet?  Only one short one to go.

7. I drive a Prius and love it.

Whew!  Made it through that.   And now for the easy part…  I love a lot of blogs, but I am trying to pass this award on to some you may not have noticed.

If you love thoughtful writing, read  My Oprah Lessons.  She lets you in on her thoughts as they come to her.  Great place to brush up on Oprah Life Classes, too.

 My Funny Little Life is Kath’s sometimes whimsical view of life and includes delicious, healthy recipes with mouth-watering photos.

I guess I favor women who are taking me on their journey with them.  Life Is A Bowl of Kibble does that for me.

Back on My Own falls in this same category.

When I want to laugh aloud on the way, then I read (Love) Notes to Self.  If you have the blues, just dig into her archives and be prepared.

Year Struck is probably the most versatile of all.  She can make me laugh, make me cry, and intimidate me with her biting wit and wordsmithing.  (I just notice that she has already one every award there is in the blogging world…but I’m leaving her on the list anyway.)

Maybe it’s cheating to name Vision and Verb, since I contribute now and again.  But I love this international gathering of women who each post their beautiful photography accompanied by wonderful words.  It never fails to inspire me.

And speaking of inspiration.  Love Isn’t Enough is a thought-provoking site whose contributors concern themselves with raising their children as free from prejudice as is possible in a color-struck world.  They have taught me much about my own attitudes and those in the world that I may not have recognized.

I think I have obeyed the rules…except I have to go now and inform the women behind all of these great sites that they are the recipients.  Sorry this is gender oriented…I’ll just have to pimp the men I follow in some other way.

xxoo

Official Rules of the Award

1. Thank the award-giver(s) and link back to them in your post.
2. Tell your readers seven (7) things about yourself.
3.  Give this award to up to fifteen (15) recently discovered bloggers.
4. Contact those bloggers and let them in on the exciting news.

Family Tradition

I’m upholding the family tradition.  I’m saving three lids…in case.

I promise that I have made great strides in my quest to de-clutter my life.   I have been taking a tougher stance as I examine the things in my cupboards.

Recently I had a major setback in the streamlining of my life when my Dad’s wife moved out of her home.  To my husband’s surprise and dismay, I used my little red wagon to cart home box after box of her “memorable” possessions.   I stacked the smaller items  in the back of my kitchen.    The rescued rocking chairs and earth-toned rugs went into our shop, waiting for distribution.  I created chaos in our own home in my quest to spread these manifestations of  her love among the family who loved her.

The phone lines were buzzing as I called sisters, children, nieces and nephews with the list of memories they might want to have.

These aren’t just things, they’re bits of our past.  Those of us who lived within the hug of her acceptance will never see a Bauer dish,  a brown crock or a unique old basket without the past rushing over us like a warm bath.  Her home was a hodgepodge of color and comfort (held together with dust and cobwebs) that displayed what she cherished.

And it was time for change. She has settled into her life near her daughter and I have cleared my counters and floors of most of her treasures. The even allotment of her worldly goods even spurred me to pass on  some of the wonderful keepsakes that she had given me through the years.   Everyone and everything is in a good home.

Except three lids.

There is no real value here unless someone should need one of them.  Yet, if the lid to a precious piece is chipped or broken, any one these colored bits of pottery becomes priceless.  How can I throw them away?

This is evidence to me that I have retained a bit of the depression era mentality that was pervasive in my parental pod.

Does anyone need a lid?  Anyone?  Anyone?

xxoo

Note:  This piece was created for and published by the website Vision and Verb (http://www.visionandverb.com),  …a global gathering of women of this age, on January 10, 2012.

What I’ve Left Behind

My husband will probably never understand why I travel. And especially why I put myself in tenuous situations and call it a break.

I want to give him a shout-out. I meant to do this as I was leaving…but…

In case you’ve noticed my absence, I’m in Mexico where the internet is unreliable at best. I spend my time carrying my computer (to which is attached a “stick” with Telcel covereage, or not) to a place where there are more than three bars. This doesn’t mean it will work. It just indicates a higher possibility. I’m trying not to be frustrated. After all, I can still write. But I’ve gotten used to sharing my ideas as they come up. I miss that.

I understand that in a relationship we needn’t ask for permission. There is no “letting” me do what I want to do. Although we are married, I still make decisions for myself. And yet there is such a thing as cooperation. And compromise.

And there is total and utter confusion. Which is what he feels when I go away for a month at a time. And which is why I appreciate his attitude.

He could be Billy the  Butthead. He could act as if he approves and then be a passive-agreesive jerk. He would be within his rights to question the time, the money, the responsibilities left behind. Because we are a team, whether we work well together or not.

Instead, he picks up the load, does my work as well as his and becomes mother and grandmother as well as father and grandfather. He hosts our company. He carries out our monthly social obligations. (I don’t think he misses me on that one.) He cares for our properties, our problems and any questions that arise that neither of us could have foreseen.

He and my daughter pick up the pieces that I missed before leaving so that the puzzle of my life in a foreign country goes together as smoothly as is possible.

What a guy!

xxoo

…on Taking a Breather from Difficulties

NOTE.  This is one of a series of requested letters that will be posted under “Form Letters” for those of you who would like an idea or a template for a letter of your own.)

Dear Son,

It’s hard for me to comprehend how things went so terribly wrong.

I am  confused about your behavior.  I have tried to be supportive of you all of your life, and in particular since you are a single father.  Even though it was difficult for both of us to adjust to living together again, it was worth it to help you out and to spend so much time with my grandson.

This is a situation fraught with difficulties, but I’m not sure what is going on that would cause you to be disrespectful, hurtful and violent to me in front of your son.  I love you and I am worried for both of you.

Yet I realize that there is nothing for me to do at this point.  I can’t tolerate your abuse.  I don’t think that is good for any of us.  And you may not want my help right now.  Since you don’t accept my phone calls, I must assume that you don’t.

As always, I want what is best for you.  You are my son and I love you as always.  And I don’t want a disagreement between us to keep me from a relationship with my grandson.  We can work out our differences without causing pain for him.

I am having a difficult time reconciling all that has happened between us.  Perhaps it is best that we don’t talk for a while.  But I would appreciate it if you would make some arrangements for me to visit with your son.

Love always,

I Like Beginnings

Dear Family.

I’m not feeling sentimental.  I have no wise words for you on this momentous occasion of a new year in our lives.  I’m only grateful.

So I’m starting a list for the year.  This is on the fly and doesn’t scratch the surface of my wonderful life, but it’s a beginning that I’m gong to plump out as the year progresses.

I’m grateful that my basic needs are met and that I have the privilege of doing and having many of the things that bring excitement and joy to my life.  A warm and comfy bed.  A great kitchen.  Plentiful food.    A computer on my lap and on my desk.  A cell phone that can go where I go and a phone number for each of you entered in my contact list. 

I’m grateful that I live in a small town. A library within walking distance. 

I am grateful for the ability to travel.  Mexico, here I come.

I’m grateful that I have faith, family and friends to sustain me through my difficult hours.  I never feel abandoned or alone. There is always someone to listen.  And, with a bit of travel time, there is always a hug available.  I love and I am loved.

I am grateful for my health.  A life without constant pain and for the ability to be active.  I have my eyes, my ears, my fingers and my toes* (plus  all of the other necessary parts) and they all work fairly well considering their mileage.

Most of all I am grateful that we are alive and well at this moment.   You are each and all the greatest blessing in my life.  Ojalá, we are beginning another year in which we are healthy and whole in body and spirit.

My goal will be to add to and tweak this list all through the year.  I hope you will add to it.

Happy New Year!

xxoo

* A song my mother sang to me as a child: “I’d rather have fingers than toes, I’d rather have eyes than a nose.  But as for my hair, I’m glad it’s all there, I’ll be awfully sad when it goes.”