projects

I have finally faced I am my happiest when I have a project to think on! Like today is my day off, I don't have a project going and I am antsy, unsettled, lackluster.

I love a problem and finding a solution.

PROJECT: I have lots of earrings. Had all sorts of aggravation trying to find the right pair in my early morning panic of dressing for work. So, spray painted this tray, stretched trims, stapled gunned them, hot glued antique buttons to cover the staples. Voila, earrings organized by color! The trims accommodate post, clip or hooks.


PROJECT: I have a necklace collection. Many of my clients bring me crosses when they travel. I had necklaces hung over the edges of two antique mirrors. Oi, what a battle each morning to find, then untangle one from the clutches of its neighboring neckies.

TT and I cut a piece of plywood into a rounded cross shape. Sanded edges, sprayed with texture and painted to match bedroom walls. Screwed gold round-topped screws into the holes I had pre-drilled. And TT magically affixed it to the wall. Voila #2! Mornings got so easy! I feel like I am at a boutique as I make my daily selection. Dug out some necklaces I hadn't worn in years, just because of the pain of trying to find them.


PROJECT: My back hurts (though it is much better, BTW), it is hot and we won't get a pool until December or January. One of my friends told me about WalMart's $297.00 wonder - an 18' X 4' above ground pool! We bought it Friday night. Since TT cannot be out in the sun for long, I had the bright idea to set it up by moonlight.
That was a bit of lunacy for sure. We began to fill it with water and it looked like a mountain stream as the water rushed to one side. I had only hoped the ground was level. We had to drain it, move it and Saturday get a front loader.
A lot of details later, it was up and running by Sunday after church.


PROJECT: Relax and have fun! Sunday afternoon, Dot and Boyfriend came over for the first swim. It looks pretty good for what it is, huh? Grilled food and lots of fun. They had a dinner engagement. Not to worry, friends A and B came for leftovers, swimming and fun. Did we! Seemed like a really good idea to take that tractor for a ride! Then a little target shooting (with a pellet/bee-bee gun, very harmless!) and let's end the night with kareyokee !



I love projects!

surprise

I was at work, just cutting hair, like usual. My fourth client into the day said, "What are you doing August 19?"

"I don't know, what am I doing August 19?"

"You and TT are coming to stay with me and my wife in Costa Rica."

And I had snapped at one of my clients a few days ago when she had asked if we had plans for a fun summer vacation, "Of course not, I am self-employed, no, I do not get paid vacations."

We have this offer, to vacation in a beautiful Costa Rica house (mansion), merely for the cost of our airfare. I said, "YES!" He said, "I am not used to people making decisions so quickly."

"So, do I have I D I O T stamped on my forehead????? Of course, we will be there!"

TT is working on his passport. Cool he knows now he can fly.

August 18 is our 22nd anniversery. What a celebration!

I knew I needed a new swimsuit. And I thought it was just because we are building a pool next spring.

Looks like I need to go shopping!

And I thought this was just another day. . .

Daddy

Father's Day. Doesn't that stir up a bunch of emotions?

Mine is gone, has been for thirteen years. He was really gone before that, as he died of a dementia type of disease. I stayed angry with him for years after his death, but was recently able to forgive him. Ah, he was a man, not a saint. Just as I am a fallen, flawed human female.

So what are my good memories? We used to go shopping in Ann Arbor, way before malls. The winters were so cold. He would hold my shivering hand in his warm one in the deep pocket of his overcoat. He said a true gentleman, saying a man should walk on the street side of his gal and should tip his hat to a lady. He loved presents. We delighted in buying surprises for Mother and my two sisters. He was an atheist, but loved Christmas. He was THE Santa of all Santas!

He loved to sing. He was in some church (??) choir for a while. We would sing Christmas carols all times of the year together. My favorite was Hark the Herald Angels Sing. His favorite hymn was Whispering Hope. Towards the very end, he and dot played that song on the piano together and sang. TT videod. Daddy's voice quivered, then he soon dissolved into tears. Dot was too young to notice, or if she did , she did not stop playing and singing. Soon, he gathered himself together and rallied for the next verse.

Dad was a genius with numbers, shining as a career accountant. He hated how each company he worked for would "fudge" the numbers. He was so honest. He always said, "If you steal only one pea at the grocer, you are still stealing, even if no one else knows, YOU know."

We lived in the country. Way out. Mother and Daddy bought a deep freezer. Okay, it was like a grocery store, about four units. It was about fifteen feet long. It was one of the few things he ever bought "on time". Mother always bragged that he was never late with a payment. His word was his life. He did not break commitments.

He had a love/hate relationship with shopping. That means, he was a quantity buyer. If he liked something, he bought en masse. He loved apple butter. He ordered it from this quirky health food company, Barths. We would have boxes of it shipped to us. So many that he saved the apple butter jars, screwed the lids to strips of plywood, hung them from the ceiling and in those hanging jars, he stored screws, nails, nuts, bolts and such. It was really an ingenious storage system.

Daddy had a soft spot for all creatures. We had dogs, horses and he loved to feed the birds. For that reason, he would not allow me to have a cat. "It's not right to feed the birds and have cats around, waiting to eat them." Duke and Duchess were brother and sister border collies. Duchess turned out very mean, so she went on to some other place. I don't know where that was. But Duke was the apple of our family's eye. We never had him in the house. But he was so loved, my mother made him a woolen covered cushion for his bed in the dog house Dad made for him on our porch to protect him from the fierce winters. He built Duke a huge pen, like 40' by 40'. He would never chain a dog. Duke would escape the pen, and sit on top of the wooden fence post at the end of our property. When he heard our car coming down the country, dirt road, he would race us home, jump back into his pen and look angelic, like he had been patiently awaiting our return!

Elmer was the next dog, another boarder collie. His tricks were he loved to jump into the tire swing and he would run around the yard with ten feet long branches in his mouth! Somehow, we lost all of our dogs tragically. Either they were hit by a vehical, or would disappear. Daddy melted into deep sorrow with each sad disappearance.

Daddy loved to whistle. He also loved to dance. He and Mother taught round dancing and square dancing. So much that he built a dance hall on their sixty-eight acre "farm" in Michigan. They hosted many happy events out in that hall.

They got into health foods in the fifties. I was a sight in the school lunch room. "I'll trade you my pumpkin seeds and carrot strips for your Hostess Twinky". You can imagine how many takers I had on that deal! But, Mother said I was the healthiest of her three daughters.

Daddy is where I get my entrepreneurial instincts. He raised monkeys. He was part owner in a trailer park. And yes, he got into more than one network marketing business. Ultimately, he struck gold. Literally. He invested in gold when it was $35 an ounce. He sold when it was $800 an ounce. He retired at 50. And that is why I have a little bit of a retirement and a nearly paid for home.

Though a health food fanatic, he loved McDonald's. We went at least once a week. I remember when they had posted on their sign they had sold their first one million burgers! He also loved ice cream. We never had it at home, but would go to Bill Knapp's restaurant and get apple pie a la mode.

Daddy was very tall and lanky. He had long arms and a kind smile and a very tender heart. He would wrap those long arms around me and say, "All I want is for you to be very happy."

I was a very inquisitive child. I can remember he always answered my endless questions, with a lot of patience, I might add. He made me feel like every question had merit.

He loved working with his hands, designing things. Something else I got from him. I loved being in his wood shop, trying to build things from his scraps. He explained the engineering of bridges and such to me. I loved those times.

He could pack a car for a trip like no one's business. We never seemed to travel light, but he managed to pack it all in. I love packing, too. Can't stand a half inch of wasted space.

Hmmm, it's good to think on these things. I have squandered too much time murmuring over his failures. Daddy's nurturing ways paved the way for me to have something he never had. Faith in the Father above Who cares for me, provides for me and loves me through all my own failings.

Daddy done good.

Idea

I am always thinking about a new way to make money.

One of my clients told me she thought I should become a STYLIST. You know, like Ophrah has, someone to tell what to wear, clothing, makeup and all. Am thinking about getting training in NY. (Hey, any excuse to go to the Big Apple!)

Anyway, I was trained in Color Analysis in the 80's. And, our clothes SPEAK. Like I was realizing what I was wearing to work was saying, "I don't want to be here, I would rather be off and having fun."

So, since she suggested being a Stylist, I have been dressing more professionally and all my clients have been saying how great I look and where am I going after work?!

So, it works! How we dress communicates our intents.

I have a great clientle. They are faithful and wonderfully appreciative of what I do with their hair. But, maybe I can develope a second income stream, organizing closets, doing color analysis and wardrobe assessments.

So, tell me, what do your clothing choices say about you? Talk to me!

quitter

When will I learn? I am forever trying to find the pot at the end of the rainbow in MLM's.

Amway, Melaluca, Alpine Air Purifiers, Mannatech, AmeriPlan and the latest, Arbonne.

Common denominators? Great, high quality products. Sound business plans.

The problem? I just hate going through life with an agenda to SELL to every living being. Instead of meeting new people and just enjoying discovering who they are and what are their interests, when in an MLM, my brain is constantly jockeying to get into position for the pitch. It nauseates me. I feel like a user.

The motivation? I don't have enough put back for retirement. (Good reason to sink money into the backyard in a pool, huh?) So, I am forever placing my hope in the next MLM boat.

It works for some people, very well. It never works for me. It just goes against my nature.

So, one more time, I have sunk a bunch of money into another MLM, only to realize I cannot do it. True, I will have a two year supply of the most fabby skin nourishment.

I hate disappointing my friend/sponsor. I hate breaking promises to me. I always swear, "Never again!!!" I have this entepreneural mind. I can sniff out business opportunity.

I am like a dog on a rabbit trail that has its teeth in the hind foot, then realizes he is really a vegan!!

So, where is my field of broccoli?

POP!!!

TT, our two realtors, (J and Dot) and me!!
Pop the cork! We closed on Country Estate. Money is in the bank. My debt is gone.

We have decided to look into putting a POOL into our back yard!

Okay, so when are we gonna have a Bloggers Reunion? You all have lived through my agonies, so can you come and celebrate with us?

fun

Our weekend was FUN!
Sixty people, mostly in one huge cabin.
Men, women, children.
Lots of great food.
Fabulous weather.
Adventures Unlimited, indeed!
A river to canoe, kayak or tube down.
Low ropes games that built relationships and team work.
No outside world contact.
Campfire complete with guitar, singing and s'mores.
Golf cart for impaired folks, like me!
Water guns.
Twister game.
Continental breakfasts on the porch overlooking the river.
Quiet sleepers upstairs, snorers downstairs (I got booted to the lower level - oi, how embarrassing!)
Poker games.
Massage appointments after the strenuous exercise.
French braiding for anyone with enough hair! (I found my place quickly and loved it!)
No petty arguments!
Rest and food for the soul.
We came back smiling and counting the days til next Memorial Day, as this is an annual event that apparently we will be invited to again!

I did not think I was THAT much of a woodsy gal, but found the sweat, sun and worldly solitude more refreshing than I could ever have imagined.

hair

Here it is, my newest cut!! Was feeling kinda drug down with so much hair. It grows like a weed, so by fall, I will have more. Watcha think? Do you love my glasses? Why couldn't I feel they were crooked? See my happy smile? My dot took my photo. She is such a joy. No matter how dreary life is, she always makes me happy.

We are going to Adventures Unlimited for Memorial Day weekend. Dot invited us. She has gone for about five years and why did she include us this year, for the first time? Makes us feel so special. She goes with a lovely, huge family. AU is all about being outdoors, canooing, ropes, all that stuff that is not for my back.

I am taking my knitting, my camera, my TT and gonna rest and chill. You all have a wonderous Memorial Day. Remember to thank God for the courageous men and women who gave their lives so we can have all the freedoms to fail, flounder and flourish without federal flailing. We have so much here. Love you all! :>)

tag?

Back to normal. It is so cool to have Lappy back and be in touch again.

TT and I took daughter to Olive Garden last night. Had a lovely visit. Discussed "TRIP" at great length. No one makes me laugh like Dot does!!

At Dot's suggestion, and with my check card (!!!), we went to store for the new PAMA, the Pomegranate liqueur. It is the drink of the stars as you get all your anti-oxidants with your refreshing beverage! (hic)

So, we journeyed to Boyfriend's house and the four of us toasted and chatted and chuckled for hours.

TT is working on Country Estate. I went to Mass and lunch alone. It is a beautiful, sunny, breezy day.

And then, 4D tags me. Now, I don't really know about this, what I am supposed to do. So, I am filling in the blanks and tagging a couple other people to do the same? Is that it?





I AM: trying to see the bright side of life

I WANT: to be a nicer, gentler, less STRESSED, less high-strung person

I HATE: tools that don't work right and meanspiritedness and outright, on purpose lies

I LOVE: God and the Catholic faith and all the grace of Jesus Christ for loving me in spite of all my failings, my husband, my daughter, my sisters/family, my front porch and all the lovely, crazy gatherings, conversations and parties it has witnessed, having a talent that supports TT and I, TT's warpy sense of humor, being outside

I MISS: my mother and I miss TT being strong

I FEAR: losing my daughter and TT and my mind/health

I HEAR: fibers in my pillow, so I have to sleep with it under top of my head only

I WONDER: how I appear to the people around me

I REGRET: not saving money when I was younger

I AM NOT: very nice sometimes

I DANCE: at church to peppy songs AND after a few reds or vodkas!

I SING: at church(was in choir at one time), in my car and when I am alone

I AM NOT ALWAYS: cheerful, hopeful or helpful

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: knit, sew, do hair, hold babies, great drinks

I WRITE: to try to be more honest with myself- amazes me anyone cares to read it

I CONFUSE: myself (thanks 4D!)

I NEED: someone to boss me around

I SHOULD:be better to my body and to TT

I START: lots of projects that I don't finish

I FINISH: TT's sentences

Okay, TT, Lofty Perch, Puppy and Buffy, tag, yer it!!

scroll

TT home. Lappy back. Scroll down to May 2 for New Orleans post!! FINALLY.

1000

Talked to TT tonight. There were over one thousand people at sister-in-law's memorial service. She is so loved. Funeral is 10 a.m. tomorrow.

TT is very emotional. As eldest of 12 and uncle to 50+, there are so many that love him and he oft does not feel deserving of their affection. He has never been one to stay in touch, call, write, visit. They hang on his attentions. He marvels, wonders and regrets his lack of communication with them all.

As much as I love time alone, I felt lonely today. The quiet was too quiet.

TT's computer stopped working for a few hours, then magically resurfaced. Thank God!

Daughter gave me a lovely pot of tulips for Mother's Day. She and I attended a pool party with dear friends. It was a restful, fun day.

Lappy still in surgery. Back doing better. Missing "real" writing, that magical moment on the front porch with the spring breeze clearing the cobwebs of business out of my brain.

And I miss TT.

departed

My sister in law died tonight. We are so sad. She was a great woman of faith. She leaves behind four wonderful children and a husband beyond dreams, TT's youngest brother. We have cried bucketloads. She fought on every front - medical, nutritional and spiritual. We grieve.

update

Last night, I decided to brave TT's dinasour and do a heartfelt post. Got it nearly done and the ^$#*&^#%^ computer locked up and shut down. Got madder than %$#(*&&^%&*$##%^&^ and poured a little vodka and kept company with TT and Biscuit. The nerve of that quirky computer to lose my post!

Lappy came back Monday night. I just got New Orleans photos downloaded and she went into spasms. Had to send her back to surgery.

I pray it is not another three weeks to get her back. The good news is Best Buy has not charged me a dime. But I miss being out there with you all.

I am a natural born historian. With blogging I see life so differently. I find new value, humor, insight in the daily dailies, thinking about them as a possible post. So without Lappy, I feel very handicapped.

Good news is my back is SO much better. I visit the chiropractor three times a week, his massage therapist twice. The hot water bottle and icepack have become my best bed-pals (after TT, of course!). I feel hope that I will not be a cripple.

And I haven't said anything, but we are four weeks into a contract on Country Estate, to close near the end of May. What a relief to have her nearly sold.

I have a new haircut. Will show you that after N.O. post. Not drastic, just a fresher version!

I miss you all!

fit

I am having a little temper tantrum.

I do not have my lappy and thus cannot post photos. In spite of 4D's admonition to be patient with TT's miserably quirky computer, I find I am not able to get past it to feel the least bit creative.

Hence, I will not be posting about the TRIP until after May 22 when my beloved lappy comes home. We got great photos of the excursion, so I do not want to do a post without them.

I am very grouchy about not being able to sit on my porch with a glass of red and the spring breeze to post and visit all my dear blogger friends! While I knew that was a lovely part of my life, I did not realize until now what a lifeline it is.

I hope you don't forget me while I am pouting and panting for my lappy!

trip

It was a trip. In all senses of the word. Gather eight women from age 27 to 65 in one vehical, in one condo, with one key. . .

Those were the only "ones". With eight women were countless unspoken expectations, hopes, weaknesses, appetites, interests, tolerances and energy levels.

We had never braved this together before. Our friendships were from ten years to nine months. The limo ride to was a blast. We were like school children, preparing for a field trip. It was a stretch Navigator, so we had lots of room, lots of mimosas and bloody marys, music and laughs.


















As we neared New Orleans, my daughter's tears mirrored my own as we faced the beginning of the Hurricane Katrina devastation. Miles of houses and apartment buildings that crumbled under Katrina's bullying power.

Our leader who is from the Big Easy gave us the verbage of the before and after, mile upon mile. How heartwrenching it must be for her to see her birthplace ravaged, maybe beyond repair.

Our accomodations were as grand as our transportation. We were high above the city and oh, so comfy.


We went to Jazz Fest Friday afternoon. My back/leg was screaming in pain, so I had to be in a wheelchair. I cannot tell you what it did to my soul to burden my friends with pushing me around. It was frightening to be so helpless. I sat in the Gospel Tent and cried as I listened to songs of hope, praying for a miracle.

We dined that night at a lovely place dear to S's heart.

Sleep came easy. I was exhausted.

Saturday morning, I awoke to squeals and giggles. M was showing her favorite new lingerie, Hanky Panky to all the women. She is so with it, so trendy. I know her husband must say prayers of thanks every night for being married to such a loving, contempory gal.

S and her local friend (who graciously allowed us to stay in her castle, I mean condo) went on to Jazz Fest. The rest decided to shop on Magazine Street. Walking was such a challange to me. My daughter and I split off, went at my snail's pace, into Funky Monkey (where she found a groovy skirt for $5!), Shoe Nami and many other cool boutiques.

We had a lovely lunch outside. The wind was blowing, so soon we had gritty faces, and who knows what landed in our food!

At lunch, J and S textmessaged us from the Fest and we decided to catch a cab! We arrived in time to get in place for David Matthews band!!! My tender daughter wheeled me through the dirt forever to get us there. She is not the workhorse type, so it was a love labor, believe me.



J and B joined us and we had beer, cuban sandwiches and a long drink of fabulous music. S and L were able to find us. Long story short, after dinners and drama and driving, we all landed in our beds for a good night's sleep.

Sunday, we headed to the Quarter, S and I attended the last half of Mass at the Cathedral, joined the others at Cafe Du Monde, then began shopping. Of course, my body objected, so I spent an hour or two at MarketPlaceCafe, listening to jazz with a glass of red and an icepack on L5.

Lunch there and then a long trip through the Ninth Ward and much more, surveying what seemed like endless destruction. Much of New Orleans is a ghost town. What withstood the storm flourishes. The signs in many of the damaged areas that said, "we are coming back" were stirring glimpses at the courage and resiliency of a unique people group.

I learned a lot. I learned what TT must feel like in his weakened state from all his health devastions. I learned that while Hurricanes Ivan and Dennis were a hard blow to our city, that they were but a mosquito bite compared to the rage of Katrina. I learned what I am thinking in my head and feeling in my heart does not always get rightly communicated through my mouth or actions, and if that is the case with me, most likely it is the case with all humans.

We traveled to a storm site, had our own storms, and like the storm cycle, had sunshine and clear skies before and hopefully they will return after.

gone

I leave in the morning with eight friends in a limo (for only $75 per gal because of the generosity of one of my friend/clients) for New Orleans to attend JazzFest. We are staying at this fabby condo (for free!!) on the RiverWalk.

I am so mad. I was cleaning my office and spilled a huge glass of water. Thought it all went on the floor. Was online that night for a long time. Next morning, laptop is DEAD.

Yep, water under it. Will be FOURTEEN DAYS without it. So, when I get back from the Big Easy Sunday night, I will not be able to download photos and do some great post to you all about our adventures. Grrrrrrr.

Right now, I am using TT's computer. It is like trying to swim through the mud, it is so slow and quirky.

Can you tell, my back hurts? I lose my positive outlook with the pain. I really love my laptop. I sit on our front porch in the soft southern spring breeze and read all your comments and visit your blogs, sipping red and relaxing in my mom's rocker.

Tim's office space is like a dungeon to me. He keeps the shades down on the windows. . . oh, stop griping HG.

So, I will be back to see you, my friends. I loved all your "dinner" lists. And thanks for all the dinner invitations! You all are the best.

dinner

I heard this on Oprah. If you could have a dinner with ten people who have died, who would you invite and why?

My dinner guests-

One: My husband's father - because he must have been awesome, just look at TT.

Two: Christopher Columbus - what courage to cross the blue in the hopes that his theories about a new continent were right and he made that journey in faith that God was leading him.

Three: Rahab - the Bible whore who found grace and faith with God (and whose children are in the lineage of Jesus Christ).

Four: David, King of Israel - who made so sinned so much, yet still was known as a man whose heart was after the Lord.

Five: Abigail - who was married to a fool, who became David's wife, yet did not get the honor of having her children in the lineage of Christ.

Six: Moses - who led a stubborn and rebellious and ungrateful group to the Promised Land, yet, b/c of his anger, did not get to enter the Promised Land himself.

Seven: Margaret Mitchell - the great author of Gone With the Wind. Who was she and how much of that novel was her own story?

Eight: All the children I did not have from taking birth control. What greatness did I miss from my womb by aborting baby after baby because it was not "convenient" to have a child?

Nine: Jesus Christ - King of Kings, lover of my soul, in spite of all my failings He gave Himself for me so that I would have eternal life and forgiveness for my millions of sins.

Ten: My mother - who denied God until ten days before her death. What was it like to be embraced by the One she rejected for nearly all her life?


So, who woud you invite to your dinner and why? And do you think we could get Jamie and Belle to cater for us?!

big

(Another chapter from my book, MA, this one about Tremendous Tim.)


Once, Daddy had a big paint business.


I knew it wuz big 'cuz he bought Ma a big house, big cars, her side of the closet wuz filled with skads o' clothes ('specially fancy sweaters) an' even Daddy bought lots o' shoes for hisself.

Ma used to hang up the phone an' say to me, "We gotta pray, Daddy's got some big problems at work." But then, ever'than' 'bout Daddy wuz big to me. He had a big heart an' he gave big gifts. I loved crawlin' up in his arms an' snugglin' into his big chest.

Soon after Daddy took sick, Ma set me down an' said she wuz doin' all she could, but thet at 15 years, I wuz gonna hafta earn all my own money. She said, "I kin give you a bed to sleep in an' food on yer plate, but you an' I gotta pull together so we don't lose this house."

Daddy din't paint no more. He even stopped pointin' out "his" buildin's as we drove 'round town.

Ma wuz strong - she jest kept workin'. She got thinner an' thinner.

One day, we all drove out to Daddy's office. Later, I'd find out, it wuz fer the last time. They wuz a'goin' through thangs, really throwin' ever'than' out, or so it seemed. Daddy looked sad, frail-like.

Ma come up missin' fer a while. I found her out back, standin' thar, lookin' at all Daddy's paint trucks, cryin' like her heart would break. "All his dreams. . . " wuz all she could choke out. Why did Ma's tears make me feel the way thet they did?

Next thang I know'd, she had gathered herself up an' wuz back at his side, hard at work.

I learned thet year thet a "fire sale" has nothin' to do with somethan' actually burnin' up, an' thet where a man works has a big bunch of his heart in it.

It took some time spent in them church meetin's, but Daddy started goin' after his Father's business an' seemed like earthly thangs din't take so much space in his heart. He wuz after thet Big House in Heaven.

unexpected

It was another day at the salon, busy schedule, cut, dry, sweep the floor, stay on time, powder my nose, answer calls, where is my temporary assistant (remember A is on her honeymoon), update my client cards, mix the next color formula.

The owner's wife breezes into my room with a lovely Easter lily and an adorable Easter basket. Hmmmmm. Shock. Joy. A quick thank you from me and she is gone.

I love our salon owners. They are good, fair people. They have never been the gooshy, mooshy type. They have their own mountains to climb, their own struggles. As stylists, we oft have felt like the forgotten and even unwanted step-children of their lives. We just pay our rent, don't make trouble. They do their thing, we do ours.

I love a team. I love a coach. I love a bright, shining star to follow, to aspire to, to be lead by. I have had to find that coach in me and sadly accept that was not the role of our owners. Accept, but didn't like it.

Lately, something different has been brewing in them. It is like their hearts are returning to the salon. I don't think they know what it means to all of us. . . we really need them. Yes, we can make it on our own. . . but we want to thrive, not just survive. We want to know they appreciate us, notice us, like us, admire us.

The Easter lilies and decorations and baskets and candies were sweet beyond words. The salon smells sweet. Everyone's attitudes have been sweet. Spring, Easter, the Resurrection - all symbolic of new life. Their loving gift has resurrected hope and love in the salon.

What a Happy Easter. Thank you, to our dear owners.

bridesmaid

A got married today. I "fit" into the dress. Had to wear my hair up because the day began with torrential rain. . . but by 2:00, her wedding hour, the skies were blue and kissed with white puffy clouds.

Daughter and I were pretty emotional. We love A fiercely. Want to know she is going to be loved, honored and well-treated. . . we'll see.

A picture is worth a thousand words, so here you are!

A is my faithful assistant. What an honor to do her hair for her special day!

Helping A's maid of honor who is a fabby friend and salon co-worker.

Daughter and I!

A is beautiful through and through.

silence

(After reading my friend Buffy's latest post, I decided to haul a work out of the closet. I wrote a book titled MA in 1999 in my daughter's voice, as though the story was her view of life with me. It was actually a complicated attempt to apologize for the parts of me that had been so painful to her.)






Ya know, thar's a differ'nce 'tween quiet an' silence.

After a day of errands an' shoppin', Ma'd say, "All right now, I need some quiet!" She'd go off to her bedroom an' I'd head to mine.

I liked thet time. I'd stand in front of the mirror an' look at how much I wuz growin' up. An' I'd think on all the doin's of the day an' how differ'nt I wuz gonna be when I wuz a ma.

I knew when Ma said she needed quiet thet her nerves wuz in a knot from traffic an' noise. Shoppin' with her warn't much fun. But when she'd come out from her quiet time, she wuz generaly calmed down an' a bit more sweet.

So, quiet wuz all right.

It wuz the silence thet loomed cold like poison gas thet I grew to jest 'bout hate.

Like after Gran'pa died, it seemed real silent. No more piano or help with my math problems.

Then, thar wuz thet long silence 'tween Ma an' her middle sister. Ma never said a lot aginst her. I liked my aunt - she wuz thet real lovey-dovey sort. But thet's how three-year -olds sees thangs!

The worse silence is 'tween Ma an' her mama. Ma often looks at me sad-like an' says, "I kin see so much of Gran'ma in ya."

Sometimes, I wonders what it is thet gits people so tied up on thar insides thet they seem to stop lovin' thar own flesh an' blood.

Ma's tol' me a hundrid times, if'n she's said it once, "Girl, I will always love you, no matter what you done - I might git mad, but I'll always love you an' you kin always come back home to me an' yer daddy."

Thet's how I love Ma, too. She's been perty testy sometimes, an' I've been mad at her, but I guess I wanna give her what she ha'n't seemed to git from her own mama.

Thar is somthin' peaceful 'bout the quiet. Ya know in yer heart thet ever'one is jest restin'. When I go off to keep my own house, I don't want no silent times.

'Specialy 'tween me an' Ma.

offer

This was the worst week in years at the salon. And seems, all is slow in many salons. Spring Break, taxes, who knows? My back hurt, my hopes were sagging.

The slow week was good for me, though. I get cocky and a bit prideful when my schedule stays jammed for months on end. My assistant told me she noticed I was kinder and more friendly with all my clients. Shame it takes lack for me to be more gracious and grateful. God help me, I am so human.

Good set up for a breakthrough. You know, the old adage that the darkest hour is before dawn?

(Daughter and L)

We were set to visit Land M for her 35th birthday.

Daughter and new beau coming with us.

"I want to be ON the road by 7:00!" I live on schedules.

Schedule interrupted. . . we got an offer on Country Estate. A very good offer, by our neighbor's best friends. This will be the first sale for my daughter in her new real estate career.

And this will take all the financial stress off my back. (Good-bye pain?) We can pay off wedding credit card, the house we live in, medical bills, NO DEBT. It has been a long eleven years without my husband's fat income. He grieves he cannot contribute more.

Because of his hard work, Country Estate looks pristine.

I have to say, I have fallen in love with all my readers. You all are great. Kind, caring, compassionate. Surely your words are prayers circling the throne of Grace for me. You broaden my view, enlarge my vision and warm my heart.

When Country Estate closes, please pop a bottle of bubbly and drink. . . drink to friendship and love, drink to your own goodness. And I will drink to yours.

bare

My heart, my soul, my struggles, my silly stories, my worries, my fears. . . I lay out my bare being on my blog.

I really have been amazed in just being me, up or down, faith-filled or fear-ridden, happy or sad, silly or stoic. . . amazed at the care and support of cyber friends. All of you read and leave these endearing comments.

These are different from my daily in town relationships. No pretense, no judgement, no lectures. Just support, encouragement, funny quips and great tips.

The whole salon was deadly quiet today. Well, I still mangaged to meet my self-required quota, on the low side. But it was not the usual, bustling, up-beat Tuesday.

My back hurt. And my back-up assistant had an emergency root canal. My back hurt even more.

Country Estate has not sold.

I emptied out my business account with my SEP IRA contribution.

I got renter's insurance for my room at the salon to prepare me for hurricane season.

On the up side, my (big!!) skin care business is growing.

I qualified for District Manager.

My tummy and saddle bags are shrinking, thanks to Callanetics.

I am still free of gut-wrenching anger towards my soon-to-be-ex-son-in-law. I marvel at the power of forgiveness.

My daughter read "humiliation" and laughed forever! She had just shared the story with the man she is dating (we love him) and said my version was much funnier. (For those of you who wondered how she would feel about me sharing that online!)

I am too tired to do links. For anyone new, just read the old stuff!

For all my other blogger friends, thanks for commenting and for caring.

Naked we enter this world and naked we leave. I am believing that in baring my soul, I am clothed with His love as expressed through all of you.

Thank you.

humiliation

Sometimes life can be very humiliating. Especially as a parent.

My daughter was two and a half. My sister was visiting from Texas. What else do you do on a Spring Break vacation but go to the beach?

We lived in Orlando at the time. I packed the trunkload of necessities, my daughter, sister and a friend to go to the New Smyrna Beach on Good Friday. As you may know, you actually park your car on the beach. The beach is really more of an expressway, with loungers lined up on the water. Not exactly a refreshing experience, sitting and breathing in exhaust fumes and being bombarded by too loud music from too cheap sound systems on too old cars driven by too young guys with even more too young girls hanging all over them.

Finding a place to park that time of year is like finding a spot to park at the Mall two days before Christmas.

"Ah, there's one!" We wheeled in, unloaded our chairs, sunscreen and water bottles. It was going to be a lovely afternoon. We had just settled in and were beginning to relax from the drive. . .

"Mommy. . . potty. . . Mommy. . ."

No, it couldn't be, I would lose our spot and have to start all over. "Baby, do you just have to pee? You can just wade into the water and sit."

(I know, that is so gross, but I was a young mother, so spare me the lectures!!)

Well, she waded in a tad and sat down. Relieved, I went back to my chair, just a foot away from her.

The next thing, OMG, I could not believe my eyes. How did a tiny child produce a log this huge???? What do you do with a floating turd? What was worse is that as the ocean water came in and then back out, it rolled to shore, then rolled out.

Back and forth it rolled. I stood, hypnotised by the rolling tide, I mean turd.

People were walking by, clearly repulsed at the sight. Next thing I knew, here comes another one! I wanted to find a shovel, not to bury the evidence, but to quickly dig my own grave as I was dying from mortification. But I did not have one, so how DID I get rid of the two huge tootsies?

You know, I don't remember what I did about them. I do know somehow they went away. My baby was real happy. . . My sister and friend laughed for days and weeks and years over the incident.

So as the saying goes, sh_t happens! You just have to roll with it!

unfit

How did it happen? I came back from Europe in November. I had walked all over London and Paris. The sites and smells so intriguing, I just did not eat or drink that much.

I must have lost ten pounds. I felt and looked great.

At that high, or low, I was fitted for a bridesmaid dress for my assistant's wedding. Now, that is a story in itself that my assistant asked me to be an attendant in her wedding. I am fifty. She is twenty-one. She actually asked me to be her matron-of-honor. I later told her she should have another one of her friends, who she had grown very close to, to take that prestigious position in her wedding nuptials.

Today, I went for the fitting. The boned corset of the halter-necked dress shaped my figure into a beautiful hourglass. I felt rather diva-ish with my cleavage and soft flowing skirt. It was all working, with one exception.

I stood looking at my statuesque figure, breathless, because I could not breathe!! What had happened since November? Sure, there were a few weeks I didn't take my daily two mile walk. And, yes, I have had my share of cookies throughout the holidays. How had that blown my figure up so much that my dress did not allow me to take a full breath?

I have three weeks to catch my breath, lose five to ten pounds and return to my former svelte figure. What do I give up? If I was truly honoring Lent, this would not be a problem. Surely a big H is engraved into my forehead. Not for Hattigrace, but for Hypocrite. I do not fast well. I do not give up wine well.

Is my blown up figure a sign of my blown up self indulgence?

I sent my husband to Walmart for veggies, fruit and lowfat protein. Like it is his fault the dress is too tight. As I am unfit for A's dress, am I that unfit for Him?

meditation

I was out on Cheryl's Treehouse and was staggered by this quote. She has posted the story of John Wooden's life. His words have riveted me.

"There is only one kind of a life that truly wins,
and that is the one that places faith in the hands of the Savior.

Until that is done,
we are on an aimless course
that runs in circles and goes nowhere.

Material possessions,
winning scores,
and great reputations
are meaningless in the eyes of the Lord,
because He knows what we really are
and that is all that matters."

- John Wooden

Lord have mercy and help me to stay in Your arms.

answer

Tuesday morning, I poured out my heart. I forgave. I asked forgiveness. I renewed my gratitude. I acknowledged and celebrated His greatness. I received His peace. I rediscovered joy and hope. My heart was at peace.

Wednesday, I went to salon early to touch up my sparkling roots. I saw the Fed-Ex truck in the parking lot. Didn't think anything of it.

Went up to front desk to check my schedule. And there IT was. The insurance check! YES!!!!!!! Sent Tuesday afternoon after I had my talk with Him.

In live, living color, in my hand, was the insurance check. He wanted my heart right. Freed from anger, judgment, vengeance and cynicism.

He got me right, then poured out mercy. I am so in awe of His kindness.

Last night, an offer came back for our house. Today another buyer is coming in. We could have a bidding war for the Country Estate.

What a lesson for me. Surrender. Obedience. Trust. Forgiveness. Simple virtues that I can only access in Him. And look at His bountiful reward.

My 'little skin care business' is growing. I have two consultants and three wholesale buyers. In one week.

Tuesday I said it is well with my soul. I am safe in His arms. All because of His presence to reassure me of His faithfulness.

Today, the tangible answers. I am grateful.

arms

I took a walk today. Had a talk with God. Our reading from Matthew (If you forgive men their transgressions,your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive men,neither will your Father forgive your transgressions. ) made me look at the condition of my heart.

Who did I hold hostage with unforgiveness? My ex-son-in-law (to be), my father, the insurance company and finally(gulp), my daughter for marrying the guy.

As I walked, I surveyed my own life. My newest ex-son-in-law is a tortured soul. He is not a believer, has no access to faith, had a rotten upbringing and a very skewed view of family and relationships. Who knows what I would have turned out to be with his start in life? How could I judge him? How could I hold him hostage to unforgiveness? How Christian was it of me to slander his character? I was able to release him and really pity his frantic, panickeded state.

My father was an atheist, a troubled man who grew up in a violently disfunctional home. I faulted him for his insecurities and fears which shaped his reactions to life. Like I was not guilty of the same? I walked, talked to God and with each step saw I was no better than he.

The insurance world is without vision, lost in protecting their investment, no access to the mercy of God, grasping to gain earthly riches. Each insurance representative I have spoken with is just a part of a system they did not create, trying to bring home their paycheck. They personally are most likely kind, caring people, with no control over the policies of the company they work for. How could I revile them?

My daughter was formed by my failings. She was patterned in the valley of my darkest days and the height of my greatest days. I instilled in her my worst and my best. I embodied many mixed messages. Why would I think she would surface unscathed? Her choices are hers. But whose journey has she followed? As flawed and failing as I am and have been, what were her chances to walk an untroubled life?

So, I was able to forgive all. From the bottom of my heart.

I was left with me. Me alone, before my Father. How many times have I come to Him, whining about my life, stained and toxic with my judgments? How could I see clearly when I only judged others and was blind to my own condition?

If I could climb up in the lap of my Father, have Him wrap His arms around me, rest my head on His chest, I realized all I would be able to say is,"Thank You, thank You, thank You, for all You have given me, for all You have provided me, for fifty years of Your faithful love and provision."

If I even began to say, "I am sorry for. . . . . ," I know He would say, "For what, because I see you through the forgiving fount of the spilt blood of My Son. I do not see your sins. I see you as my beloved daughter, the one who continuously comes to Me, loving Me, seeking Me. . "

I wept for my lack of trust in the One who has always provided for me and loved me. I continued my walk on this beautiful spring day. The Country Estate has not sold. The insurance money has not come in. My husband is not making money. I have deep debt from the wedding and a million bills (and too much shopping). My second business is in the baby stage. Nothing in this realm has changed.

Nothing but my heart. The heart newly attached to my Father. Safe in His loving arms.

It is now well with my soul. Safe and trusting in His loving arms.

lost

I frequently can be seen stomping though my house, rummaging through stacks of stuff, banging dresser drawers open and shut, trying to find some misplaced necessity. Like sox, where do they go? Who would steal my sox? They certainly wouldn't fit my husband and unlike mischievous puppies, I seriously doubt Biscuit makes off with them.

Another disappearing act is spoons. There must be a spoon convention somewhere, because one at a time, they just leave our home!

These losses are an annoying nuisance. A few months ago, we had a heartwrenching loss.

Jen had come to visit with her sister and two friends. Jen is a beautiful girl, kind-hearted, humorous and loving. She has two delightful children, a boy, 8 and a girl , 4. I invited Jen and the others for a girl's weekend, as I wanted to do Jen's hair, and distract her from her painful loss.

Her beloved husband, age 34, had suddenly, unexpectedly had a heart attack and died a few months prior. I knew styling her hair would not fix her broken heart, but it is one thing I have to give. I wanted to express my deep empathy.

We had all gathered on my porch for some refreshments and were chatting away when Jen gasped, clutched her hand, stood and said with her voice shaking, "My diamond, the diamond fell out of my engagement ring. . . oh my God, Jimmy gave it to me. . ."

Forget hugging. What would that do? The four of us began scouring my driveway, the car they had driven here from Alabama, the house, couch, Jen's purse and suitcase, everything. I even got out a flashlight and we crawled on our hands and knees all around the car, especially the back, methodically searching, hoping the flashlight would reveal her lost treasure.

At one point, Leah whispered, "Hattigrace, look, could this be it?", her trembling hand cupping what we wanted to be the missing stone. It was a small glass bead.

I remembered a sermon about tokens and how God often gives something small as a token or promise of the real thing to come. I wish I had proclaimed my thoughts to the other girls, but I thought to myself, "If He could let us find this worthless glass bead, then surely He knows where the diamond is and will lead us to it."

Sounds good, huh? Like I was this great woman of faith. Ha. Not enough to speak it out to encourage the others.

My heart ached for Jen. She was sure God was mad at her, that was why she had suffered so many losses. She called her mother, who began asking for intercession from St. Anthony (thank you sista' Sara!)finder of lost objects. We kept looking.

Three and one-half hours later, we all gave up. Jen had cried herself out. We were exhausted, sweaty and discouraged. Again gathered on the porch, Jen looked at me and asked, "Well, Hattigrace, do you still want to do my hair?" I respected her so much for being willing to let it go and move on. And Leah had talked to her about praying and then giving it up to Him.

We all went into the house to gather our purses. I went out to the porch for something. Jen's sister was behind their car. She suddenly bounced up into the air, and with joy of joys shouted, "I found it!!" I really thought to myself for a millisecond she was cruel to kid with me.

She was not kidding. Where we had scoured for hours, the diamond suddenly was visible. The screams of rapturous happiness and gratitude rang through our neighborhood. I have never had bigger goosebumps in my life.

I finally hugged Jen. I finally cried. And she cried, big happy tears.

The glass bead was the token for the diamond. What is the diamond the token for? First given by Jimmy, now given by God. Jimmy pledged his life and love to his beloved Jen. How much more does God pledge to her?

Right now, I think Jen feels lost. I would too, most likely. But her Savior, Maker, Lord and Lover of her soul waits for her to bring her broken heart to Him . . . in Him, we are never lost. . .

lent

" 'Now, therefore,' says the Lord, 'Turn to Me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning.'

So rend your heart and not your garments; return to the Lord your God,
for He is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and of great kindness. . . " Joel 2:12-13

My walk with You has been a rocky and jagged path. I am easily distracted. I forget to ask Your council. I hurt Your heart with my quick, unkind words. Though I stumble, fall and fail, I know no other refuge than Your love, frightfully and wonderously revealed at the Cross. My life is noisy and demanding. Help me to retreat, be still and know You.

toilette

We all use them. We do the unmentionable in them. It is the great equalizer of life. We hear the saying, "We all put our pants on, one leg at a time." That is meant to help us not feel intimidated by the wealthy and powerful in our midst.

There are other more crass sayings about us humans and the base needs we share. That I will save for another post!

The other day, I was trying to exit the ladies room when BAMMMMMM, my opening door slammed into something. It was dark and I couldn't get OUT. Turns out, some man was trying to get in, but opened the adjacent airconditioning closet door into the ladies room door. Our doors had locked together. "*%$#", I scolded under my breath, or so I hoped.

Okay, who goes you-know-what in the airconditioning closet?? He said, "Sorry, I guess I kinda scared you."

Duh.

After he left, I had to run back to the little room for some TP because one of my clients started crying. No, it wasn't because I had given her a bad hairdo. Her husband had lost his job and they were starting to lose their worldly possessions. I had no facial tissues, so was trying to dry her sobs with toilette tissue.

The dim-bob that tried the airconditioning closet had left the light ON and the seat UP on the toilette. Why? Why do men do that? Do they really want us women to just fall into the septic seating? Or are they that forgetful that they cannot remember the good manners to return the room how they found it?

I think the cure is to go to Europe. How we eliminate is so out of step with our Maker's plan. Like, in the Garden of Eden, were there really porcelain potties and bodacious bidets? Heck no. Much better than today's methods, our forefathers and mothers simply squatted. Gravity did it's quick work and one oak leaf wipe and they were on their way to graze the next grape.

Paris hasn't forgotten the Garden. Yes, they added lovely tile and toilette tissue. But, (ha!) forget privacy!


They sure dealt with the seat issue. One and all the same.

Hmmm, maybe the airconditioning closet isn't such a bad idea!

breakthrough

It has been so grey here. Fog. Rain. Damp. Gloomy. Salon is too quiet. Mall is a ghost town. Clients subdued. My back is killing me. My husband is suffering with garbled brain from painting kitchen cabinets in oil based, fumey paint at Country Estate so we can get it ready to sell.

His brakes are out in the van. Taxes due on Country Estate. Bills are piling up. No insurance money.

My sense of humor is on vacation. Hope and Trust are silent. Fear and Doubt are screaming at me.

Called husband as I was driving to mall, "I just need to see the sun. Pray for my schedule tomorrow. Oh, I need the sunshine. Our Town needs sunshine." He said, "I will pray."

I neared the mall and out of the grey, for a few brief moments, the sun burst through the dismal, weepy sky.

My heart leapt with joy. Life got really good that fast. Hope and Trust sang to me that all else will be fine.

No wonder yellow is my favorite color!

hope

I like to think I am not a worry wart. (Oi, doesn't that sound dreadful? How did wart get attached to perpetual concern?) However, truth being, I do worry a lot.

Worry and Fear are siblings that seem to have latched onto me. I really prefer my two sisters, as they continually encourage me. I am working up divorce papers from Worry and Fear and have contacted a new team to engage my thought life. They are Trust and Faith.

Now what is all this angst over? Retirement. Yup, that's my crisis. Worry and Fear took front row center actually because I rolled out the red carpet for them with my bad habits of spending and not saving money. Okay, I do save. I put a hefty amount into IRA's every year. But I started just a few years ago, so there is not a lot of time for the beautiful exponential growth of interest.

That is part of the story. The other part, if I were to be a bit more generous to myself, is that my husband has not been able to be majorly income producing for the past eleven years.

Okay, enough drivel. I have been praying, screaming out for help, that God would bring something along that I could do for a second residual income. And my husband has been praying the same.

Ever in an MLM? We have done them all. Amway (first husband), Mannatech, Melaluca, an air purifier one. . . We always say, "Never again!" Uhuh, can you feel where this is going?

My husband has found AmeriPlan. No one will write him health insurance. Cruel system we have that when you really need it, they cancel you. AmeriPlan is a discount medical plan (not insurance) that you pay a small monthly fee and participating health care, dental care, pharmacies, chiropractors and such discount their services up to 50%!!

We have several friends that don't have insurance. AmeriPlan is a light in the tunnel for us.

My husband is now a "broker" for this wonderful company with top Better Business Bureau rating. He has a skip in his step and a sparkle in his eye. Yea!

Then, one of my friends loaned me a beautiful cosmetic bag of Arbonne anti-aging skin care. I was astonished at how good my skin felt. I thought I could see improvement, too. Here I go again. . . So, I prayed, "God, I want, for once to ask You what You think about this. So, I am not going to tell anyone what I am doing. If someone comments to me they see a change in my skin, then I will take that as a sign You want me to start selling Arbonne.

Talk about making a deal, huh? So, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. . . nothing. I did my make-up real carefully, so it wasn't thick and gloppy! I smiled a lot. Nothing. Not one client said a word about my glowing complexion!

Today was a lazy day. My daughter was coming over with her friend to list the Country Estate. I cleansed my face with all my borrowed new yummies, pulled my hair back in a pony, did my eyebrow pencil and put on some lipstick.

"Mom, I really like your new look."

"What look?" My heart began to pound.

"Your hair back and less eye make-up and just lipstick. You look really nice."

My mind was whirling. But I had specifically said to God that they would have to say my skin looked better.

"Thanks. . . " I was feeling faint!

"As a matter of fact Mom, your SKIN looks really good!"

At my ear piercing scream and halleluia dance, she jumped a bit and asked, "Have you done something new with your skin, 'cause it really does look good!"

I had my fleece. I pray I have His blessing.

After the real estate contract was complete, I brought out my bag of Arbonne and they had a face feast of fabby feeling creams! They were totally encouraging, said I could come to their real estate office with my Arbonne bags!

This is simple. If a person does not have health insurance, they need Help and Hope. If a woman has a face, she wants to wrinkle-proof it! She wants Help and Hope.

I believe the only reason we were not successful with our other endeavors is we quit, we gave up, we lost Hope.

Fortified by Faith and Trust, we are going to take Help and Hope out into the world and drive Worry and Fear out of our lives.

birthday

The whole day was a celebration! Flowers, gifts, cards, cake, hugs, waves, calls, singing, balloons, smiles. . . it was a fun day.

The party that night was, simply put, a room full of love. My daughter and husband, my two oldest* relationships (in that order!) all the way to friends added to my life just this year- they made me feel absolutely adored!

We talked, laughed, ate, drank and were very merry. I was given thoughtful, caring gifts and hilarious cards!

Funny thing about milestones. They loom mammoth upon approach, then POOF, and its back to working, living and loving!

A million thanks to my family and friends for my very happy celebration!


* Except for my sisters, who understandably could not travel across the country! Didn't want to leave them out!

almost

It is 11:53 P.M. February 15. I am 7 minutes from fifty. Party tomorrow night with most of my favorite people in my life. Only ones not here are the ones that live far away.

I have tried a new skin care today. All the efforts to stay wrinkle free are at work or I hope they work!

Had a hard day because of insurance stresses. No answer on Country Estate, yet.

And, Biscuit cut her claws into my leather sofas about 30 dots worth. They are the most expensive items in my house, took me a year to pay for them. She knew she is in trouble as she licked my hands for over thirty minutes tonight after work. She must have heard, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you", so she tried her version of kissing up instead! It kind of worked. I got over being mad at her.

My eldest sister knitted me a beautiful wrap for my birthday. Helps me in having a great outfit for tomorrow night's party. I wanted to look cute! Thanks, sis.

Weather here is crazy. Thirty-one yesterday and sixty-two today. No wonder so many people have colds.

My daffodils are still blooming. And the grass is still brown.

As mixed up as nature is matches how mixed up I feel inside. I wanted my life to be more smooth, more settled, more secure than it is at this stage. I feel the need to get really responsible and save money for our later years. And, then I want to travel, have fun and do all the crazy things that I have never done.

I am excited about tomorrow night, mostly because I love any party with the people I love. But, wow, how sobering to be fifty. Kind of like when I turned thirty and realized I was no longer a kid. I love the people that say they are shocked I am over forty three. One of my twenty-something clients said that to me today. I wanted to hug and kiss her a million times.

I only said, "Thanks!"

She most likely had no clue just how much her words meant to me.

Okay, it is 12:06 A.M. I am fifty. Fabulous, foxy fifty. That's my motto. The next decade is going to be a great one. Right?!

london/paris

The cure for fury is focusing on the beautiful moments. My best friend from high school, KE, said if I ever made it to the UK, she would take me to Paris for my 50th birthday gift.

What a generous gift! October 2005, I was able to combine a Hair Show (attended by 42,000 stylists!!) with a personal vacation. I had the time of my life.

The Hair show was in London and exceeded my imaginings. My favorite was Mahogany, an amazingly innovative educational group, truly cutting edge fashion!

But, back to real life. I arrived with two of my hairdresser friends to Heathrow at 6:45 a.m. The transport service gave us a tour of all the best of London
and then to our hotel. We arrived past the breakfast time, yet they still served us a traditional English breakfast.

We later braved the Tube to find KE and daughter A, who was to be my god-daughter. We toured many sites, among them Herrod's,
to see their wow cakes!!

KE and I flew to Paris, after a coffee at Heathrow. Paris is dazzling, the epitome of awesome.
Don't tell me the French don't love Americans! Though I don't speak their beautiful language, I was constantly welcomed to Paris.


Our first experience in Paris, after KE so successfully navigated us through train and Metro, was choosing a place to eat. We burst onto the streets of Paris to be greeted by a very drunk Parisian.Why didn't we even read his tshirt?! He made us feel young and beautiful. Needless to say, we went on to another cafe for our first Paris dinner!

After two days, I began saying, bonjour, bonsour, merci to all the merchants. They have gracious manners. We dined in cafes and shopped and shopped.

Notre Dame was very emotional for me. As a new Catholic, putting my knees to the stone floor that nearly one thousand years of saints have prayed on stirred me deeply. When KE and I took the evening boat tour (can't remember how to spell the french term for that lovely excursion!), the background music swelled into Ave Maria as we neared Notre Dame.

I was so thankful to actually be able to attend their Wednesday night Mass.

And, of course, we enjoyed SocreCour. This man was playing Frank Sinatra's "I Did it My Way"on his violin and I am digging for a tip!

I have to say, I really left my heart in Paris. What struck me was how adolescent USA is. Going to France and England, seeing buildings over one thousand years old made me feel like I had returned to the safety of my parent's home. This is where we were formed.

(This photo is for my dear friend S., who has braved loss due to Hurricane Katrina. She is a light for me and certainly for her beloved city of New Orleans. )

The roots of our democracy, our faith, our nation are found in these two countries.


The beauty of the architecture, the Metro, the people, the culture and language is beyond my meager description. I long to return.

Another thing I loved about Paris was I could not eavesdrop! I was in the crowds of French speaking people, mesmerised by their melodic language. It was like their words were a constant song, that I could not intellectually comprehend, yet my spirit leapt in celebration with.

Seems the U.S. influence is everywhere, even in the historic section of Paris. No "french" fries for me!

The crowning moment of my trip is the great honor of becoming the god-mother,
as she calls me, the Fashion Mummy of, A.P. Here we are, walking up to her church for her baptism.

How can I say thank you for such a gift? I am still in awe. I must return.

fury

I am making poor choices today. I know what I need to do. Haven't done it.

Need to get out of my jammies and go for my walk, shower and get out to Country Estate and help my husband on his list of forty-something to-dos.

What am I doing? Sitting in my fury. We are getting so messed with by the insurance company for Hurricane Denise damage to Country Estate. We have spent a small fortune getting trash hauled off, the roof repaired, paint, insurance. . . not to mention the attorney's fees for the foreclosure.

The insurance check was originally made out to our negligent purchasers AND to us as lienholder. We had her signature, but the bad boyfriend who skipped out never signed. So, we had a worthless promisory note.

Of course, I stayed in touch with the insurance Company. We were assured once the title was back in our name, they would reissue the check to us. Ha. Every call is a new promise and and new hoop to jump through. We have been lied to, placated, put off and held up.

The Christian part of me says to forgive. So, I don't hold the person I spoke with guilty of treason.

But the Company? I am sure some Draculous Devil with blood dripping talons, sweaty stinky armpits, beady eyes and snarling lips is sitting at the helm, gloating and glimmering over squashing the hopes of little pitiful clients like me. We must be the h'orderve of the day for him. I hope my case is the turkey bone splinter that chokes the Devilish Dog.

I have not been so mad in years. I actually could not speak when I got off the phone from their latest put offs yesterday. I wanted to explode with a million curse words. But, what would that accomplish? Lower myself and then I would have to crawl to the Throne of Grace for forgiveness for acting like trailer trash. I was going to call my husband, but why incite him to riot when he is working so hard to repair all the damage?

So, I swallowed hard, finished my last two clients in stony silence. Drove home and opened a bottle of red. Three glasses in, I wasn't mad any more.

But today's lethargy tells me the fury is still smoldering.