Please Forgive Me If You've Heard this Before. My Spiel, That Is. The Song Bears Repeating.

It's weird to consider the fact that just a month or so ago I was majorly stressed out; worried about all sorts of things and then flummoxed by the fact that everytime I turned around there was something else to worry about.

I had the grace to feel stupid about my worry, sometimes. Compared to most of the people on the planet, I have it good. Real good. I have a house. Food on the table. Different food every night. I have a husband who loves me. I have a kid who makes me crazy but she's not autistic, fighting a life threatening illness, pregnant, on drugs, in a gang or any of the other myriad things she could be. Everyone in my house is healthy, able-bodied and gainfully employed. (OK, when I was stressing out I wasn't gainfully employed but you catch my drift).

In other words, even with the worries - which had their own legitimacy - life was pretty good and bitching about what wasn't seemed really petty.

I came up with a new prayer. (Maybe I already told you this...I can't remember). When I'd wake up in the middle of the night because of the worries I would just chant "Everything" over and over. Why? It was about trust that God knew all the details. I didn't have to go swimming over it all and get myself even more worked up (because as few things as I could control at that time, I had even less control over them at 3 a.m.). So instead of itemizing everything and working myself up further I just offered up everything and the worry would drain away and I could go back to sleep.

There was something else, something I used to do but had gotten out of the habit of and that was to start my day with a repeated "thank you". I just don't think it can be said often enough. Not to God or to the universe or to other people.

And then some stuff worked out. And then there was light at the end of the tunnel. And it's all good. Except that, really, it was all good before. Because as it turns out, all that worry wasn't about the state of finances, career, marriage or parenting. It was about what I needed to learn realative to those areas. And trust, that came as a bit of a shock because I like to think I've pretty much figured everything out. Hee. That's a funny thing to say.

Anywhine, point is, I'm very grateful for a whole lot and I'm worrying less. It's really nice.

Which brings me to today's video. The way I hear it, this is one of the nicest ways anyone ever told someone else to "get over it" that I've ever heard. Yeah, sometimes things suck...then what? It's all in your perspective. That message may be more implied than explicit but that's my interpretation. And if I'm wrong and it's a song about miring in your own whatever, well, at least the miring is happening to a really nice piano accompaniment. But the business in the video backs up my interpretation, so I'm going with that.

Favorite line has to be: "You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost". Very evocative. Even though my experience of life is exactly the opposite. There's a particular magic in kicking up leaves.




Daniel Powter "Bad Day"

Song for Thanksgiving

Good morning! I meant to get up at 7 but now it's 8. I'm thankful for sleeping in.

There is frost on the ground but the sky is clear and blue. I'm thankful for November.

The house is not exactly in a state of readiness for Buck. Yesterday involved a lot more running around than I had anticipated. But I'm thankful for a house to clean and people to help me do it. Assuming, you know, that they help.

Today is The Dog's 3rd birthday. ("21", said The Spouse. "Now he can drink"). I'm thankful for my doggie who worships me and The Cat, who could care less about me most of the time but still deigns to sit on my lap and purr once in a while.

There is much to think on and offer up today. My finger didn't fall off, for one thing. A 4 day weekend, for another. Being 50. Having once been a teenager myself so I can remember what completely irrational beings they can be. Having friends. Good friends. Friends near and far. Friends down the street and in Blogtopia.

Yes. I'm grateful. I also don't have any time to make some poignant comment about said gratitude because if Buck is on time I gotta leave here in an hour and I'm so not ready for him. (Clean sheets on the guest bed are not a luxury but a requirement).

Oh, and here's something else to be grateful for: Scottish boys who make guitars sound like bagpipes!

Happy Thanksgiving, dear ones!



Big Country "Harvest Home"

This and That

I love to sleep. I've always been something of a night owl but since getting sick, I've been going to bed around 10pm, sometimes even earlier. And I'm loving it. Who knew the difference getting 8 hours of sleep a night could make? You'd think some health organization would have lauded these benefits by now. Sheesh.

You know that old saw about "I'll sleep when I'm dead?" I always hated that. Makes it sound like sleeping is a bad thing. I myself am a big proponent of sleeping. Especially of naps. Lordy, lordy, naps are a beautiful thing. People should take them more often. I think the world would be a better place if everyone would have a snack and a little lie down in the afternoon. Maybe with some nice music softly playing in the background. There'd be less stress, I'm pretty sure of it.

The other thing about sleeping more is that I'm even perkier when I get up at 6am. I didn't used to like early rising. Made me nauseous. But I've come to really enjoy 6am. It's a lyrical time. The sun is just risen, or just about to rise. The air is full of lark-song. (I actually don't know that we have larks here but it sounds very poetic, doesn't it?) Coffee tastes richer at 6am. And the house is still. The Spouse is gone, The Child and Dog are still sleeping. Sometimes The Cat is up, meowing for her can but once I feed her she shuts up, too.

I don't like 7am for rising. It's too sharp edged, too close to the rush of the day. I can't sit and savor my coffee and a good book at 7am. If I can't get up at 6 I'd rather just wait until 8. Maybe I just prefer even numbers. No, that's not true. My favorite numbers are 21 and 23. And 7 is a lovely time for dinner, whereas 6 seems entirely too early and geriatric. But for rising time, 6am is perfect.

Now that I'm feeling better, I'm thinking I'll still go to bed earlier. There's not much going on at 10pm worth staying up for. 10pm used to be a good time for television but it's really not so much anymore. "Battlestar Galactica" will probably be on at 10pm so I guess I'll stay up on Sunday nights. "Tim Gunn's Guide to Style" is on at 10pm on Thursdays. I love the Gunn. But I've decided I only love him enough to tape him. I don't feel like staying up to watch him.

I used to stay up to watch "ER" but those days are gone. I hate "ER". Know why? Because the entire premise of the show is that happiness is stupid. Don't believe me? Name 2 people on that show that are happy. You can't. And when people do get happy one of two things happen. Either they leave the show, so that we don't have to watch their happiness (Doug, Dr. Carter, Susan, Carol - who, of course, went off and reunited with now-happy Doug) or else they die. That's right. Dr. Green gets happy and they give him a brain tumor. Nela gets happy and her husband gets blown up in Iraq. I'm telling you, they hate the happy on that show. And it ticks me off. So I don't watch it anymore.

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I read something really beautiful this morning that I'd like to share with you. I'm rereading Looking for Mary or, The Blessed Mother and Me by Beverly Donofrio. It's a terrific book, even if you aren't Catholic. Anyway, she's writing about a pilgrimage to Medjugorje and the priest that is leading the group gives this little homily:

"God gave everything to man and woman. Only one thing he said "Do not touch". A big success for Satan when he focused Eve's eyes from all that she had onto what she was missing. It is the human condition. All conflict begins at the same moment, when I become blind to what I have and see what I don't. We are conditioned to believe we need more to be happy. It's not bad to have more. It's bad when you do not see what you have. A man who lost his leg didn't feel joy when he had it.

"Life has to be more simple. We have so many gifts. If you want peace, open your eyes to what you have around you and say thank you".

That was a good reminder to me, after spending too much time yesterday mired in what wasn't done. It's good to be reminded to say "thank you".

He's My Daddy

You know how in small communities people will do things like leave their keys under the door mat when they go out of town so that the neighbor can come feed the cat? We didn't leave our key under the mat when we went to Chicago, of course. That would just be silly, what with living in a big town and all that. But we did give a key to The Neighbor because she's The Neighb. We trust her implicitly. If we ask her to come feed our cat we know that she's going to do just exactly that and nothing else. Well, she might do other nice things, like pluck roses and leave them on the dining room table or bring over some fresh banana bread to welcome us home. And even though she was totally just doing us a favor because we asked without any sort of payment or anything, she certainly wouldn't take advantage of the fact that she had the keys to our house. She wouldn't use it as an opportunity to mess with our stuff or rearrange the furniture.

I don't know what made me think of that.

Anyway, as you can see, a certain someone who, most days, I ♥ very much made a shiny new banner for my blog. I think it is very pretty. Not as pretty as he is, but still. Making that banner was something he didn't have to do. And I know for a fact that doing it cut a little into his ray-catching time. This was, really and without putting too fine a point on it, a very generous and kind thing for a friend to do for another friend. And he's modest as all get out so he won't like that I'm making such a fuss. "Oh, please, tweren't nothing," he'll say, while he scuffs his shoes on the floor and looks all flushed and embarrassed. "You'd do the same for me", he'll say. "Really, it was nothing. Stop making such a to-do. And golly, you look really terrific today. Is that a new frock?" (See, because he's all about the self-deprecation and turning the attention away from himself).

Well, it is a big deal, to me at least, and I so wanted to do something nice to thank him. He's already an Esteemed Member of the Exalted Order of Koihead and has enough applesauce cake in his freezer to last for at least 6 months. What to do?

It's not much, but I arranged a little tete a tete, just him and the most beautiful woman in the world. I got a few little snacks and some beer and then snuck out quietly, leaving them to gaze fondly into one anothers eyes. Although I did snap a little piccie, just to mark the occasion, because I know he'll just be pinching himself for days after this to see if it was for real.



Thanks for your help, Poodle. It's a lovely banner and I'm very pleased. And you are so never going to be an admin on this blog ever again.