The Sweet Things

I just read a blog about a "nectar list"-of things a person had done that made life sweet. I figured a review of the good would be therapeutic....

1.  Neil Armstrong was a touring docent the day we visited the Smithsonian's Uger-Hazy museum.

2.  Any day at Cedar Point in my childhood was a lifetime thrill.

3.  I've ridden in two B-17's, the Nine-O-Nine and the Yankee Lady.

Next on my list:  Mesa's Sentimental Journey

4.  I've swam with wild dolphins (surrounded by them) in Hawaii.

5.  I've toured the Arizona Memorial with a bunch of sentimental Americans who all cried.

6.  And I cried the first time I visited Cemetary Ridge at Gettysburg.

7.  I loved quoting Jimmy Stewart leaving Union Station by pointing to the Capitol and saying,  "Look!  Look!  It's the Capitol dome!"

8.  I've searched for sharks teeth on Caspiran Beach in Florida.

Twice!

9.  I've sang worship songs standing on the uppermost deck of a cruise ship, the wind and sea whipping around me.

10.  I've slipped the surly bonds of earth, and danced the skies on laughter silvered wings...only as a passenger, but still.

11.  I've clung to door handles while traveling crazy roads to beautiful places in Arizona.

12.  I've hiked the Inner Gorge of the Grand Canyon.

13.  I've explored an empty plantation in the Turks and Caicos.

14.  I've stood on the border of Scotland and knew in my heart my people were from the lowlands (years later this was confirmed.)

15.  I ate French fries on the Eiffel Tower.

16.  I was (and probably still am) afraid of the mummy at the Toledo Museum of Art.

17.  I prayed for my knight in shining armor in a 12th century Norman church in England.

St. Nicholas church, Husthwaite

18.  I've climbed to the top of York Minister with a toddler on my back.

19.  I adore conch salad because I trusted a cabbie in the Bahamas.

20.  I've had a wild stingray placed on my back.

21.  I've had a monkey named Jano sit on my head.

22.  I've seen two presidents, Gerald Ford and George W Bush in person.

23.  I was struck speechless when I met Sean Hannity and didn't wash my hand the rest of the day!

24.  I hung out with Jordin Sparks for an hour.

25.  More impressively, I flew with Chris and Martin Kratt.

Martin walked me to my next gate.

26.  I've drank a $400 bottle of wine (and yes, it was worth it!)

26.  My heart beats faster when I'm around any kind of plane, especially if they can go supersonic.

27.  I love to dance, but really wish I hadn't broken my hand while doing so.

28.  I love living with art in my home.

29.  Look of Long Years by Howard Terpning speaks to my very soul.

30.  Howard Chandler Christie's full length portrait of his wife, Nancy Palmer Christy, as featured in Architectual Digest captured my 12 year old imagination.  I knew then I would own art like that someday.

Not this one (I've not been able to find it) but same subject, and very similar.

31.  I've seen Hail Mary's thrown and caught for the win at Michigan Stadium.

32.  I rooted for 50-1 long shot Giacamo, and he won the Derby.

33.  I've eaten picadillo in Key West.

34.  I know where the best pasty's are in the UP.

35.  I've eaten fresh raspberries by the handful right off the vine.

36.  I've stalked the Amish with a friend because she's an Amish-wannabe.

37.  I've held and read the letter my great-grandmother wrote my great-grandfather in 1912.

38.  I've buried my face in lilacs.

These are from Ered this past spring.

39.  I've smoked a hooka...and liked it.

40. I can make Lebkuchen like my Grama.

41.  I've had many teas at the British Tea Garden with dearest friends.

42.  I've flown over the Grand Canyon in a helicopter.

43.  I've sailed in a tall ship in Newport News...and was terribly sea sick.

44.  I've walked over the Tower Bridge in London, then visited the Crown Jewels.

Not the Crown Jewels, but this recently caught my eye...!

45.  I've stood outside the Louvre and Balmoral, unable to visit either as they were closed.

46.  So instead I've enjoyed the Museum d'Orsay....sigh!  Monet!

47.  I've felt like the Princess of Wales, being handed 60+ floral bouquets.

48.  I've created events specifically to wear ball gowns and tiara's to...

49.  ...and I've worn dresses inspired by the American flag with pride.

50.  I learned to two-step in Texas (which is apparently different from the AZ two-step, or just simply the fact that while I love to dance, I don't dance well.)

51.  I've done touch and go's in a single engine plane with my dad.

52.  I watched Top Gun in the theater with my 14 year old son, who then decided to become a navy pilot.

"Because I, sorry Goose, we; WE were inverted!"

53.  I had lunch with the governor of Arizona and the CEO of the Diamondbacks.

54.  I tailgated with the governor of Michigan before he was governor.

55.  Come to think of it, I've met four or five governors.  Most memorably, I had a fly fly into my mouth while speaking to Gov. Engler and his wife, which I reflexively spat out in front of them.

56.  I climbed a rock wall using only one hand.

Still amazed it was possible.

57.  I rowed for 5000+ meters with no hands.

58.  I've been featured in interviews for the AP, New York Times, NPR, CBS, ABC and NBC.

59.  I will always stop and sigh when I hear The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Just the Way You Are, Georgia or anything by Otis Redding.

http://youtu.be/GVbTE4wCbpw

60.  I won "Debater of the Year" in high school; not to be confused with the honor of being voted "Most likely to come from another time, planet or dimension" by my fellow seniors the following year...

61.  I travelled Great Britain for two weeks.

62.  I drove cross-country with my nine year old (and she threw up on the state of Ohio.  Significant as a Michigan fan.)

63.  I have two mother in laws and adore both of them.

64.  I own a personal library.

65.  I've spent hundreds of hours in the storage room basements of museums.

66.  I've been the recipient of true Southern Hospitality.

67.  I read Gone With the Wind by the pool at a hotel on Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta.

I completely agree.

68.  I walked a confederate graveyard with a descendant of one of the dead.

69.  I've stopped at war memorials and quietly read each name out loud.  For a moment, they are remembered.

70.  Breastfed three babies for a total of five years and thoroughly enjoyed it.

71.  I've rescued two dogs from shelters.

72.  Sigh...tantric.  Enough said.

73.  Any meal involving deep salt water fish is worth recalling and savoring...Ono!

74.  I dated Jimmy Hoffa's grandson.

75.  I've lived in no fewer than four "House of Dreams."  

View from the patio.

76.  There have been times my voice was trained to sing-and I sang.

77.  I love public speaking...but the greatest honor I had was eulogizing my father in law, who called me sweetheart.

78.  My nana took me thrifting, and taught me how to negotiate a good deal.

79.  I'm a published writer...and now I'm writing a book (or two.)

80.  I hiked the Grand Canyon solo on the one year anniversary of my first husband's death.

81.  I visited Mt. Rushmore at 7am, and had the place to myself.

82.  I know the power of a pair of high heels.

83.  I've been mountain biking and thought I was being chased by something, likely because while hiking earlier I saw a mountain lion.

84.  Sat near an airport and watched planes take off and land...usually by my self, occasionally with others.  Strangely, this is my favorite thing to do in Vegas.

85.  I've been steampunked.  And liked it.  A lot.

22" waist :-)

86.  I've had pen pals I've never met (and one that I have) that have enriched my life.

87.  I've lived the IDIC Vulcan philosophy, as well as Kirk's motto, "I don't believe in the no win scenario."

88.  Best of all, I was born on 8/8, in 1971 (9-1 is 8, 7+1 is 8) and have a sister 8 years, 8 days, 8 hrs and 48 minutes younger than me.  This lifelong obsession with 8 has brought me joy in dark days, and why I stop at 88 sweet things.

Seeing as 23 of these 88 have happened in the past year, I'm feeling quite a bit better.  Counting your blessings is more than just your family and friends, your circumstances.  It's the memories of the life you've lead...excuse me.  I think I need to go rethink a time machine!!!

Eeeee!!!!!!!! :):):):):)

Lemons

My work week is finally over.

I did brooches all week...and then today I steampunked it with a radiator cap...and forgot to take a picture.

So I'm exhausted. 

With no real exercise.

Me!

Instead, it's this:

Fat jeans got pulled out today.

My hand is *hopefully* healing since I'm doing nothing (well...except with my phone...) but at this point I'm pretty disappointed.

Affection, attention, accountability.

Affection can only come from The King.

Attention could come from any friendship.

Accountability is expected in all relationships-especially business.

I knew these plums would be outstanding because of Skow's business reputation.

Then you go and break a hand, and a heart three times each...and suddenly life is just so hard.

You crave affection so you'll stop the heartache.

You crave attention to get your mind off the constant physical pain.

You crave accountability so you'll have something to count on.

Only to be and receive disappointments...so as the ever optimist you try to count your blessings.

A card from a friend you put by your bed.

Stopping for purple flowers (Grand Hotel Instagram).

Laughing with Aunt Boo.

And in the morning, you think of the conversation the night before and try not to weep, hoping for the joy that is promised for the morning.

But it is silent, and you are alone.

When all you want is affection, attention and accountability.

It's too much to ask?

So I'll go at it alone for today.  I've been assured I need none of these things I so crave and desire.

Maybe I'll try exercise.

The mere thought terrifies me.

I cannot break my hand again-it must heal this time.

This time.

This time I don't ever want to repeat.

I've got the lemons...which ocean shall I head to?

Perspectives

I did exercise in the past few days:  I typed for the first time in three weeks!

I also hiked.  This shot was accidental (which is probably why it looks good.)

We did the polka dot trail on the Willow Lake side of the Dells, out to Red Bridge and back.

Breathtaking, isn't it?  You'll never guess who took this picture (not me!)

On the hike, consistently Chris and I took pictures steps apart.  Consistently, his were better than mine.

I'm on top...

He's on top...

I'm back on top...

It's more than just the filter...

The difference is perspective.  I thoroughly acknowledge I have poor perspective in framing a shot, despite thirty years of trying.  Chris, on the other hand, has a natural eye (and maybe some training when he was in the Navy, hmmm?) for photographic perspective; it clearly shows.

Is exercise really about perspective?

Do I hate it because I have no natural aptitude for it?

Oh, I'm back to loathing.

Hiking, that's not exercise (although the BUCKETS of sweat I produced yesterday morning may suggest otherwise).  With my hand still not healed and being nowhere near able to load (no worries, Dr Eric, I'm being fairly good still) I'm still not doing traditional exercise, even though I could.

I hate it, you see.

My perspective is totally skewed back to its negative original.

This, despite no visit from the air monster.

It was too early for him to show up...

And rather surprisingly, my excuse monster stayed home, too.

He left his tshirt with me, though:)

Natural perspective.

Something that is not apparent in my photography or my attitude towards exercise.

My current fitness routine.

I was deep in thought here...

Perspective. Can it be changed?  Or is it something we are stuck with?

I'm of the perspective we can win the National Championship...always am until the season starts!!  

Maybe I'll never like exercise...but can I at least change my perspective?  A fine question.  I'd rather not have to, unless it's fun.  Hiking is fun.  The rest?  I guess I still need to find out.

No pain...interesting observations.

Not a lick of exercise this entire week.

Hanging out with the dogs.

I have no energy, but remarkably, my lower back doesn't hurt and I've not had tremors.

Could it be the Bowenwork and Neuromathie?

Nicole Charron has done my sessions about every two weeks; with my recent tiebreaks my exercise regime has ground to a halt.

Yet no tremors.  More importantly, no back pain.

Without squats.

Hmmmmmm.

Not a Mere Coincidence

Yesterday, I glanced at my odometer and it read 198,188.  I thought about how frequently that odometer has ended recently with a zero, a five or an excessive number of eights, and I just happen to see it.

We live waaaay out of town.  I typically drive over 100 miles a day, and believe you drive a paid off vehicle until it dies or you no longer need it.

I noted once again the happy tick in my heart at coincidentally seeing a "fun number," and knew in an instant it was no coincidence.

I'm not happy right now.  As an eternal optimist these past 44 years, this period of injury is getting on my last nerve.  Add in an assortment of other issues (like dogs pooping in the house and shredding shoes, teen drama, the inability to scrub my shower, discord with the King and complete disenchantment with several organizations and people) and these are days to just get through.

But up pops an unexpected 8.

Born on 8-8.  I could bore you with the litany of why 8 is the best number, but I am only able to type with my thumb.

I love the number 8.  My family knows it, and some of my friends.  Then there's the one who introduced me to the world on 8-8.

The Big Guy Upstairs.

It occurs to me that when my kids are down, I do little things to remind them I love them.  Could these little "fun numbers" and my momentary attention on them be nothing more than my Heavenly Father pointing them out to me? Afterall, they certainly make me smile.

I love the Lord my God with all my heart and soul.  He is the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End.  As a former widow, I have experienced the Maker as my husband.  I truly feel I know God, that He is more than a Father.  My faith in the Trinity has never wavered; Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior.  These foundational truths remain constant.

However.

 In the past few years, I've become very discouraged by the behavior of those who say they follow Christ; it's impacted my life so many times for the worse.  My crisis of faith is primarily with the church, not with God.

Oh, God and I do get into it, but every time I find peace with Him.  I've known, and still know, the peace that passes all understanding (as it mounts up and guards my heart...I'm an amplified girl.  You shouldn't be the least bit surprised.). On the other hand, I have no peace with the church.  In many ways, I understand those who feel it owes the world an apology.

I'm broken right now.  Literally and figuratively.  As I grapple with life decisions, I am reminded my God is mighty to save.  I long for a community of believers to stand beside me.

I've learned the hard way I can trust no one.  The callouses are getting thick.

Unless it's callus, not callous.

Bone callus is that cloudy stuff on my X-ray's that means the bone tissue is reorganizing, stabilizing and starting to heal.  What if the body of Christ was like callus instead?  A support for healing?

My God is loving, patient and kind.  It is my belief it's been Him who was drawn my attention repeatedly to these "fun numbers," just as a parent distracts a hurt child.  Despite my doubts, sins and fears, He's showing me love in a creative way probably only I'd receive...because that's who He is.  My Maker, my Creator.

There's tremendous comfort in that.

The Benefits of owning a Time Machine

Many years ago, Mackinac became a favorite vacation destination for our family.  Charlton was a baby the first time we visited the island; we regularly took our fall break in Mackinaw City.

Lad, age 4 in 2004, and two weeks ago, nearly 15, at Colonial Michilimackinac.

Clearly, the boy has doubled in size.

I recall asking him to stand against the gun for the first photo, thinking ahead to future visits, and thinking how fun it would be to chart his growth.  We had three or four pictures, but with our move to Arizona, a looming five year gap emerged.

This is one of the reasons I wanted so badly to get Up North on our visit home...it's as close to a time machine as any other thing.

http://youtu.be/ecL6XCuO3Fw

Yes, I own a real time machine.  It's called memory.  Interestingly, not many want to take a trip in their own time machines, and even go so far as to deny their existence.

I love my time machine.

Recently I learned how to utilize my time machine to improve my future.  My still broken hand has left me discouraged and frustrated; it's been hard making lemonade when I used up all of the sugar.

Then I realized I could have iced tea with lemon instead.

My preferred beverage of choice at any given time, no sugar needed (I'm from the North; enough said.)

Nope, I didn't need to steampunk a new brace.

Although one must admit the dragonfly IS a lovely touch...

...it's time to learn how to write with my left.

Oh, it's frustrating, and I am DESPERATE to be able to type (I blog with my left thumb.). I spent HOURS today trying to write with dictation apps, only to get discouraged again.

If at first you don't succeed...

I had forgotten.

With nothing but one hike a week to my name, I had forgotten what I had learned in my Quest.

As days turned to weeks and now months with an injury, I had overlooked the solution:  try something new.

My six-year-old-like scratches became more legible this week.  You can read it now.

That and Disney announced this:

Afterall, a ride in the Falcon would solve everything, right?!

Yes, I'm still frustrated.  But I'm moving forward.

Better yet, I've turned my back on an old stumbling block and refused to even deal with it.

What good is a time machine if you don't use it?

And what good are lemons not added to your tea? 

There is good in this world; I will find it.

Grandkitten Thor is one of those good things.

Still having a right hand is one of those things.

Coffee is definitely one of those things.

As is art (Nisbet's Yellow Waves.  Love, love, love!!)

There's too much in this world to be thankful for and to enjoy to stay down for long.

And my time machine helped me get there.

Don't count your chickens...

My sister in law has chickens now.

We actually gave all my birthday guests a dozen fresh eggs as their party favor.

Each chicken has a name, and she dotes on them like pets.  Watching her with her chicks, I knew the great affection she held for them.  Another friend in Michigan also had a small flock, and I knew she enjoyed them just as much.  I thought it a tad odd she failed to turn up for my party, and worried something was wrong.

A stray dog had attacked and killed all of her chickens.  Needless to say, she was numb from the loss.

This is me, all geeked because my cast was coming off.

And this is me when I found out the hand was still broken (or should I say rebroken,  for the third time.)

Not happy.

Oh, it gets worse.

It's a dark place to be.

Four months.  Four months of making the best of it.  Four months of making it work.  Four months of just waiting to be normal again, so I can get on with life.

Not gonna happen.

My entire life, I've looked for the good.  Blessed others.  Made the best of things, and never said never.

I'm just numb.

I know these are simply days to get through.  I know the best is yet to be.

But I'm so tired.

Tired of being kind, then trampled on.  Tired of looking for the best, when everyone looks at me for the worse. Tired of having given, only to be told it's not enough, or, worse yet, that I must be trying to get something out of it.

Oh, it's not the worse thing that could happen.  I'm not stupid, and many other things are much more challenging.  Look, my husband died when I was 24; technically a four month long broken hand is a blip in comparison.

It's just that I'm so tired of hurting.

Of people not caring.

Of being let down by one, then another, and another.

Oh, I'll continually give freely-I won't change that.  I can't change that-it's who I am.  I'm not prone to bitterness.

I am prone to think obsessively on how others think ill of me, however.  My time machine revealed that as a huge stumbling block.

So now I'm in front of my stumbling block, with a thrice broken hand.  If I jump over it, I could snap my hand (it is how I broke it the second time.). If I try to walk around it, I might trip (which was the third break.)

So I'm going to turn around and walk away from it.

I acknowledge the rejection.

Again.

But this time?  

Bluebirds.

I need to learn how to fly.