Open Book

i carry your heart with me

I may have mentioned that my baby girl is getting married.

I may also have mentioned that this reality feels more like a surreality, although in a totally good way.

My heart is so full of excitement for her, and this entire experience is yet one more way having this amazing, wonderful, lovely, beautiful baby, now woman, in my life has allowed me to live at least part of my best life vicariously. The joy, the drama, the nervousness, the anticipation - nearly every emotion I am feeling is for her, through her, on her behalf.

I am so proud to call her my daughter. So incredibly lucky that she calls me Mom. So overwhelmed at the pure, true love that exists in our relationship.

Don't get me wrong. She thinks I am a total dork - justifiably - a good bit of the time. And she's not exactly perfect either, although truth be known, she's several steps closer to it than I will ever be. But none of that matters when all is said and done. What matters is that I love her with my whole entire heart, and know, with everything I am, she feels the same. I trust her, and respect her, and admire her.

And, it must be said, adore her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

My baby girl is getting married.

It's a beautiful thing.

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The bachelorette party van took off today at noon, original destination New York City. Alas, the weather - the stupid, endless winter weather - scared them south and as of this writing, they are headed to Charlotte. They're young. They're immortal. They're best of friends. A good time will be had, of that there is no doubt.

Still, let's be honest. Charlotte is no New York City.

I wish I were with them. Instead, I'm drinking vodka and pomegranate juice in their honor and typing this post, while fielding an endless string texts from the road.

See? She loves me. :-)

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Planning her bridal shower brunch has been more fun than I can describe. I'm going with a garden theme. One of the quirks of my personality is to take an idea and beat the living hell out of it, in case you didn't know. In that spirit, this shower is no exception.

Giant cupcakes decorated like individual flowers will be displayed in small terracotta pots and do double duty as centerpieces. Watering cans and flower pots will act as vases and serving dishes. Potted herbs - favors for the guests - will adorn the buffets. The menu will be fresh and colorful in keeping with the theme, and even the game prizes have a flora and fauna feel.

No matter the weather the second weekend in March, a houseful of thirty women in Virginia will be garden partying like it's Spring.

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Praise be to the free software known as Windows Live Movie Maker. And also to a brand new printer equipped with a kick ass scanner. These tools have enabled me to create - direct and produce, if you will - a video montage of the lives and times of this happy couple that is absolutely - if I may say so myself - outstanding. Seriously. It's a work of art, complete with music and animation and, let's be honest again, two stellar subjects.

The video is a chronological trip through their lives. It starts with wedding pictures of the grandparents and parents and flows right into their lives, from babyhood to present day. I keep adding to it and tweaking it and then, naturally, with each change, I have to watch the entire thirty minute film from start to finish, just to be sure.

And to cry myself silly. Over and over again. On purpose.

It's like I said.

My baby girl is getting married.

And it's a beautiful thing.

Because I carry her heart with me.

I carry it in my heart.

A few months after I published my fourth book, I decided to become a writer.

1. It's a Thursday Thirteen! Oh, TT, how I've missed you and your very fine opportunity for brain dumpage in miniature.


2. Today's TT title is from an essay by Alan Furst published in the book Writers on Writing - Volume II. I recently joined a book club for readers who like to write, facilitated by a local author. We're reading this volume as a sort of road map for our discussions and it has proved quite illuminating. The short story (pun intended) is that no two writers approach their craft the same way, and that's okay.


3. Our group had our first get together this week and I confess to bringing an initial reluctance to my participation. This evaporated after about fifteen minutes. I'm loving it. And I feel pretty certain there are one or two members who will grow to be good friends as time goes by.


4. During the course of one of our conversations, I realized something about my own writing, and conversely, my lack thereof. When I was mired in the 50-60 hour a week corporate world, composing technical and proposal writing on demand, creative writing - whether on paper or here in this space - seemed to come easily to me. It was an outlet, a way to clear my head, a process of growing focus. When I moved back to West Virginia and was no longer mired in such a quagmire but still had a foot in the swamp, life and work blended to disjointed effect and the creative juices ceased to flow.


5. Now, here we are. I am fully free of the restrictive ties of technical writing as though my life and livelihood depends on it. I am fully free to live the life I want to lead, the way I want to lead it. My days are settling into a gentle routine, my mind is engaged in things that interest and fulfill me. And as a direct result, my creativity is beginning to take note, and I can feel the ideas, the energy, and - most importantly - the desire stirring again.


6. In other words, my creative-minded self has spent its lifetime working within and around the confines of my business-obligation-minded self. Sometimes, the adaptation takes time. But it eventually, always, will follow.


7. I apologize if that is cumbersomely articulated. I hope you know what I mean. But even if you don't, I do. At the end of the day, in this line of thought, that's really all that matters. You know? You know.


8. So. I made a little change to the blog. < /understatement >


9. Okay, I gave the blog a wholesale makeover. The 'six trees' design served me well for a lot of years, and I'll always sort of miss it. In fact, it hasn't really gone anywhere - it's just a click away. But I needed a change. I wanted more simplicity. A blank sheet of paper, a brand new notebook, a fresh start for a fresh start. I feel like I've got that now. What do you think?


10. It's snowing today. Again. Rumor has it, we might be in for another six inch windfall of the white stuff before all is said and done. Now...you may or may not know this about me, but I love snow. LOVE it. I am a certifiable snow lover of the sort that sun and surf types love to hate. That said...between you and me? Even I'm starting to get sick of it. Shhhhhh!


11. The best thing about countless big snowfalls, hands down, is the comfort food cookery that accompanies it. Today, for example. There is a chicken roasting in the oven for the explicit purpose of being added to the creamy corn and potato chowder that is simmering away atop the stove as I type this, to be dished up for dinner with a hearty hunk of fresh baked rustic pugliese bread. With butter. Real butter. It's too bad this blog isn't equipped with smell-a-vision. The aromas in here are too die for. Or at least to gain twenty winter pounds for.


12. Wedding planning is in high gear. We are less than two months away from the big day! I am having difficulty getting my head around this reality, although wading through the various tasks I've been assigned slaps me upside the head with said reality on a daily basis. I'm hosting a shower for my girl at her house in a couple of weeks. I'm producing a thirty minute video montage of the lives and times of the happy couple for the reception. And I'm in charge of creating all the print material sundries - program, signage, a custom designed guest book - required for such an affair. At some point, I have to start thinking about a dress for myself. An honest-to-goodness mother-of-the-bride dress, no less. Please see item 11 to gain a better understanding as to why this must-to-do is at the very bottom of my want-to-do's. 


13. I will be watching the Olympic female ice skating finals tonight, but I gotta tell ya. My heart ain't in it. Is it just me, or does this year's competition seem devoid of energy and drama and excitement? I've been way more taken with a multitude of other events this go 'round - everything from hockey to snowboarding to the Nordic combined relay. Did you see Team USA represent with silver in that grueling race? How freakin' awesome was THAT? And how freakin' awesome a host has Vancouver been? Vive la Canada! Go, world!

I got a song ain't got no melody. I like to sing it to myself.

It's still too early to garden much. The ground is soaked solid with cold. There are still thick stalactite-esque icicles hanging in the shaded corners and a sneaky chill to the air that bites your fingers and nose when you aren't looking.

But there are signs that we are getting closer to honest-to-goodness dig deep in the dirt springtime. Bulbs I didn't know we had have begun sprouting up from unexpected places. Blue jays and cardinals and even the odd robin or two have made their presence known with mid-morning busy serenades I can hear through my kitchen window. The neighborhood cats, feral and domesticated, have started re-staking their respective territories, curious and alert and, as always, suspicious.

There is even the occasional afternoon temperature hovering around the fifty degree mark, and it's this, above all the rest, that teases the imminent change of season.

It's still too early to garden much. Even so, seeds are being planted everywhere you turn.

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I'm reading a book called The Autobiography of an Execution by David Dow, and with every turn of the page, I grow more enraged and outraged. I also grow more in awe of this man's selflessness and willingness to give up bits of his soul in the fight for the greater right. Or at least, for the lesser wrong.

It's a book I wish I could gift to anybody and everybody with views on both sides of the death penalty debate willing to read it. Willing to engage their minds with the realities of this barbarian act committed on behalf of "The People" in the name of some biblical vengeance that has nothing to do with Justice. Especially not constitutional American Justice. It's not about guilt or innocence. It's about right and wrong, and the value of...no, more than that...the imperative of fighting the good fight.

Obviously I can't give each of you a copy. But I can give you this link.

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Mitt Romney has a new book out and is doing lots of press for it. I have read and listened to several interviews he's given on his recent publicity tour, and the recurring theme is his adamant refusal to believe that America should ever apologize. For anything.

This is a uniquely Republican perspective that I will never understand.

Yes, America is a great nation. The greatest on earth. Yes, we have been responsible for "promoting freedom, peace, and prosperity throughout the world."

Yes, indeed we have.

But we have also made mistakes. At times egregious errors in judgment, execution, response or lack thereof. To my way of thinking, greatness takes courage. Greatness requires of us the ability to acknowledge mistakes and to apologize for them when we recognize them as the first step toward correcting them. Apologizing requires a the willingness to suspend false arrogance when appropriate. Without that sincerity, without that ability to have confidence in our strength to overcome and an inherent belief that understanding our mistakes is the only way to learn from them, we lose a little of that which makes us great. Humility. Magnanimity. Benevolence. Wisdom.

Apologies are hard. Every human being alive knows that.

But owning our mistakes and striving to make them right does not make us weak.

It makes us stronger and entitles us to the courage of our convictions.

To believe otherwise is to demonstrate, in my eyes, a stunning lack of faith in the true greatness of this nation.

But that's just me.

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Wednesdays are Jendays in my New World Order. It's the day smack in the middle of the week when I am free to do just about anything I like.

Today, what I really would've liked to be doing is digging my hands in the dirt, readying the various beds, planning which flora to plant where.

Alas, it's still too early to garden much.

But even so, seeds are being planted everywhere I turn.

The time of my life.

James Taylor croons, "The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time." If the man is as sage and wise as I give him credit for being, this particular line is one of his most prescient. It's also a personal lesson that is coming into its own for me, in the here and now.

I am thoroughly enjoying the passage of time, with every fiber of my being.

Life is good. I'm happier, more content, more in the moment than I've ever been at any other point along its journey.

I think it shows. 

Last week, I served the last day of what turned into a ten month contract for one of the largest PR/Marketing firms in the mid-Atlantic. It was a part-time position that paid me an incredibly generous wage for half my time each month. It was also more of the same stress of deadlines and hierarchy and big corporate environments I'd been entrenched in for the past twenty years.

Early on, I thought I wanted it to turn into a full-time position. Once I had time to transition, settle in, get my feet set. As the months wore on, though, it became clear that this was a world I was more than ready to leave behind. It just wasn't anything I needed anymore. Not for personal gratification. Not for my ego's sake. Not for the money. Not for anything, really, beyond the status quo. So, my original six month engagement was extended to ten, and last Friday, I called it a day, leaving them, I hope, a little better off for having me there.

It was a job that served a purpose, and I'm grateful to have had it.

I'm equally grateful to be leaving it behind.

Because you know? My life is too full. I'm having too much fun. More than I even realized until I was able to shed the weight of a Real Job and focus all of my attention on the things in my world that balance me, and bring me peace, and make my life feel ripe with purpose and meaning.

That's exactly what I'm doing now, and can we talk?

I love my life.

I love being the book buyer for an indie store that's one of the most beloved spaces in town. I love that I get to hang out in that place three or four days a week, meeting amazing people, surrounded by artists and authors and musicians, any book my heart desires at my fingertips with - most amazing of all - time to read them!

I love volunteering for Read Aloud West Virginia. I love spending a couple of hours a week scouring the library for the next exciting adventure to take my mixed 2nd/3rd grade classroom full of munchkins on every Friday afternoon.

I love being able to apply for - and get! - a job like the one I just landed with the statewide Girl Scout council. I love being a paid Project Leader, bringing the Girl Scout experience to at-risk teens throughout the county. I love that these kids are so thirsty for the attention and the opportunity, so willing to engage and be challenged, so tough on the outside and such soft, gooey, lovely girls on the inside. 

I love having hours to devote to my home and family that I never had the luxury of enjoying before. Hours I spend cleaning, cooking elaborate meals, entertaining, planning bridal showers and wedding videos, serving as a shoulder for my bride-to-be girl to cry or laugh on to her heart's content. Hours I spend literally grinning ear to ear.

I love that I was able to be there for my mother at a moment's notice, spending nearly a week taking care of her and Dad during a recent kidney stone ordeal. I love that I get to go to my niece's volleyball games and my nephew's basketball games, and give them all their birthday presents live and in person. I love that my husband loves to spends part of every Sunday afternoon honey-doing himself through a list his mom has started to keep just for the occasion,

I love having things to look forward to - volunteering on a campaign, joining a "book club for writers" group, starting - and finishing! - several small jobs and projects that have come my way.

I love having time for myself, to write, to play, to dig in the dirt, to paint, to think, to read, to learn, to grow, to imagine, to wonder, to hope, to dream.

I love having time, just to be.

It's time that's been a long time coming.

I'm not planning to waste a single second of it.

And you can quote me on that!

NoBloPoMo

Did you see what I did there? How I went the entire month of January without posting, just to see if I could do it? Or maybe just because I almost forgot I had a blog? At any rate, I managed to observe a full No Blog Posting Month without even trying. Who knew it would be so easy? All you have to do is 1) type every passing thought out into the interweb via Twitter and Facebook, thereby draining your mind of every last drop of blogging desire, and 2) let so much time pass that you can't possibly catch up and starting from scratch starts to seem a self-defeating proposition.

See? Easy peasy. If I can kill a blog, anyone can do it. I promise.

But don't try it. I'd miss you.

ANYWAY. Where was I? Oh, yes. I was all caught up in the promise of a new year. And boy, has that proved true so far. January 2010 has been an interesting time, full of twists and turns, loss and love, pain and joy, coincidences and faith renewed. January 2010 has also already come and gone, which, excuse me, but damn. How thirty-one days can march so steadfastly and unrelentingly forward like that, I'll never understand.

Apparently I'll also never tire of overusing the well-worn "time flies" cliche', but that's a story for another day.

(I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry. It's not EXACTLY like riding a bike, this blogging stuff. I mean it is EXACTLY like riding a bike, but only if you're honest enough to admit that re-teaching yourself to ride a bike can involve skinned knees and bruised egos, more often than not.)

So.

Hello! How the hell are you?

Me? I'm good. January 2010 was quite a month around here. Why? Well...where to start.

I've enjoyed two real, honest-to-goodness, multi-day snowstorms. Hosted my mother-in-law for two days when her power went out. Bought (and sold) thousands of books for the store. Read four books for myself. Began sponsoring a Mingo County family after learning of the outstanding efforts of an organization called 'Family to Family.' Put the finishing touches on the contract position that was so very, very good to me upon my return to West Virginia. Spent an incredibly romantic weekend at the famed Greenbrier resort. Turned coupon fanaticism into huge savings at the grocery store. Turned down two jobs with a confidence I wasn't sure I really possessed. Watched a good friend deal with the passing of her father with unbelievable clarity and grace. Became a fully trained and certified volunteer for Read Aloud WV. Paid off TWO CREDIT CARDS IN THEIR ENTIRETY - CAN I GET AN AMEN?! Watched another friend lose a job she'd held for more than 20 years. Signed up for a writer's group designed for readers. Had two flu shots. Experienced the heartbreak that is being a Minnesota Vikings fan. Cheered on my Mountaineers at several basketball games, live and in person. Learned of the death of my parent's best friends' child, a young man my age who, once upon a time, was a young boy I shared playpen time with while our parents hung out. Reconnected with two old friends. Listened with amazement to my talented (who knew?) son do color and play-by-play for his new university's basketball teams. And didn't blog.

Not for lack of material, as you can see. What I see is simple: how intimidating it is to try and play catch up after all that. Seriously. Where to even start?

Next month is already shaping up to be similarly full. I should find out this week about a job I really, really want. (And honestly? Think I'm going to get.) I'm waiting to hear whether my mother requires an outpatient surgical procedure, which would mean a trip to Kentucky to care for TWO ailing parents for a few days. I start my classroom reading assignment on Friday, and should discover whether I've still got any power over my innate stage fright - even if it is a room full of  2nd and 3rd graders. There's a reservation with my name on it for an upcoming Smoking Cessation Workshop and a first appointment with a personal trainer at the YMCA looming too close for comfort. The Big Wedding is two and a half short months away, and the 'To Do' list I've been given is long. And, as if all that weren't enough - Valentine's Day is coming!

So, who knows. Perhaps there is hope yet for this little space full of abandonment issues.

To blog or not to blog?

Do or do not, there is no try.

February, here I come!

Oh wait! Damn! We're already two days in, aren't we?

Better late than never!

Right?

I think.

I hope!