Lordy loo! What a week. Or two. I've lost track. What did we do?
The firstest and most importantest thing that I want to do is celebrate Little Miss Chole and her fantabulous scholarship. I am just over the moon that the kabillion wise choices she made between Point A and Point B have been recognized and rewarded in this way. I would have been slightly more excited if she had applied for scholarships at the University of South Alabama, but I think the earth's axis has had about enough shaking about for one year, and it wise that my excitement was somewhat contained.
And, I did it. It seemed like a better idea before I started doing the homework --- before I saw what other people have done --- before I was reminded that I have never written a decent piece of fiction --- and I've only registered for the class. I haven't booked the flight or motel, so I suppose I could still turn and run. I may hate it. I may shrink when I see myself in comparison. I may be in a group with someone who thinks I'm a bother in the class. The teacher may wonder what in the ever-loving world to do with me. But, Barry is encouraging me. Wonderland is set up enough that I can go. The economy is such that they are inviting even novice writers. I have the sneaking suspicion that if I don't go now, I probably never will. I'd kind of like to quench that yearning that rises up when I read about a writing seminar. Iowa.
Ran into a little kitterplunk at work this week. Our office manager handled it with apolomb though, to my immense relief. So, that was a, 'Yay!"
Last night's rainstorm woke me up, and either it or something else gave me a upsetting dream. I missed a couple of hours of sleep last night. But, the roses seem to have appreciated the rain, so I'm calling that a draw.
I think you are right about "Boundaries." It may very well be a lifetime companion book. This time, I am writing my thoughts on the card...not for any particular reason other than writing seems to be the way I think things through and give my conclusions a chance for permanence. Which reminds me. One of this week's notes had to do with "being responsible TO others and FOR ourselves." I couldn't quite get that to make complete sense, so I take it that I need to go back to page 33 and read what came before and what came after.
I didn't forget about you on Thursday. I read your blog before I started my letter, and by the time I'd chipped in my two cents worth there, my writing time was up. ;-)
And so, my love-er-ly friend, I hope you and yours have a wonderful, happy weekend.
Big loves,
Vickie
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
March 15, 2012
G'morning, dear! We're having a little bit of a misty morning here. There are Mourning Doves on my patio. I should probably put out some bird seed.
I thought about you and Peyton this past Saturday morning. As you probably remember, Noah has always been crazy about the tractors, trucks, and forklifts we have on the yard, and has always wanted to ride on them with Barry. If Barry forgets to take him on a ride, he doesn't say anything --- to us. On the way home, he'll say to Kim or John, "Papa forgot to take me for a tractor ride." We move a lot of heavy equipment, so Noah has seen some pretty impressive machinery over the years. This past Saturday, as Barry got ready to mow with the tractor and mowing attachment, I said to Noah, "Papa's riding the tractor." And Noah, pausing his video game with clear reluctance replied, "What kind of tractor?" Even grandparents suffer the adverse affects of "growing up." ;-)
The blog. Well, let's just talk about the blog. No post on Friday. Patricia's most recent post noted that she wrote every Sunday whether or not she had anything to say. I may have to keep that in mind as I may have gotten stalled on the whole Boundaries topic.
Turns out, it wasn't quite as easy to summarize as I had thought and/or I didn't remember, off the top of my head, quite as much as I would have expected. To address that issue, I started flipping through the cards again, and so many of them were striking a new chord with me that I decided I really just need to go for round two.
But before that, here's what I had:
1) Either don't do it, or don't resent it.
2) If you can't accept "no," you'll never hear a real "yes."
3) If you can't say "no," you don't have a real "yes.'
4) Being selfish isn't what you think it is.
5) If a person responds to your help by getting better, you are helping. If nothing changes, you are enabling.
I did start over again, day before yesterday, and realized how that first card has started to work on me. "Problems arise when people act as if their "boulders" are daily loads, and refuse help, or as if their "daily loads" are boulders they shouldn't have to carry. The results of these two instances are either perpetual pain or irresponsibility." (Boundaries, Cloud and Townsend)
The kids would offer to help at Second Sunday Supper --- setting up tables and chairs, or whatever I needed in the kitchen. Although I accepted their offers, and was relieved, there was something negative going on inside me, some sort of feeling that I hadn't performed as well as I should have, a dragging notion that if I had planned better, worked harder, I would have been able to do it without their help. Oddly enough, an opposite feeling also seems to be at work --- that Second Sunday Supper is for all of us and they should appreciate it and be obligated to participate in making it happen. They are two sides of a really dumb coin: The inability to just quite simply say, "I need help."
I wouldn't call Second Sunday Supper a boulder, given all the truly heavy burdens that life can muster up, and it may be true that if I tried a little harder, thought a little smarter, I could pull it off on my own. Two things may be at work here, so it may be a good thing that I am simultaneously working my way through The Spirituality of Imperfection. 1) I am not (deep sigh) perfect, and it really shouldn't trouble me to let that sink in and embrace it. 2) There are a lot of last minute things to do, and short of serving up peanut butter jelly sandwiches, dinner for twenty calls for more than two hands.
I am accepting help, happily, at Second Sunday Supper. Help.
Sometimes, I just need help. A gift.
Learning to receive is a whole 'nother bag, but we'll get to that.
Big loves,
Vickie
I thought about you and Peyton this past Saturday morning. As you probably remember, Noah has always been crazy about the tractors, trucks, and forklifts we have on the yard, and has always wanted to ride on them with Barry. If Barry forgets to take him on a ride, he doesn't say anything --- to us. On the way home, he'll say to Kim or John, "Papa forgot to take me for a tractor ride." We move a lot of heavy equipment, so Noah has seen some pretty impressive machinery over the years. This past Saturday, as Barry got ready to mow with the tractor and mowing attachment, I said to Noah, "Papa's riding the tractor." And Noah, pausing his video game with clear reluctance replied, "What kind of tractor?" Even grandparents suffer the adverse affects of "growing up." ;-)
The blog. Well, let's just talk about the blog. No post on Friday. Patricia's most recent post noted that she wrote every Sunday whether or not she had anything to say. I may have to keep that in mind as I may have gotten stalled on the whole Boundaries topic.
Turns out, it wasn't quite as easy to summarize as I had thought and/or I didn't remember, off the top of my head, quite as much as I would have expected. To address that issue, I started flipping through the cards again, and so many of them were striking a new chord with me that I decided I really just need to go for round two.
But before that, here's what I had:
1) Either don't do it, or don't resent it.
2) If you can't accept "no," you'll never hear a real "yes."
3) If you can't say "no," you don't have a real "yes.'
4) Being selfish isn't what you think it is.
5) If a person responds to your help by getting better, you are helping. If nothing changes, you are enabling.
I did start over again, day before yesterday, and realized how that first card has started to work on me. "Problems arise when people act as if their "boulders" are daily loads, and refuse help, or as if their "daily loads" are boulders they shouldn't have to carry. The results of these two instances are either perpetual pain or irresponsibility." (Boundaries, Cloud and Townsend)
The kids would offer to help at Second Sunday Supper --- setting up tables and chairs, or whatever I needed in the kitchen. Although I accepted their offers, and was relieved, there was something negative going on inside me, some sort of feeling that I hadn't performed as well as I should have, a dragging notion that if I had planned better, worked harder, I would have been able to do it without their help. Oddly enough, an opposite feeling also seems to be at work --- that Second Sunday Supper is for all of us and they should appreciate it and be obligated to participate in making it happen. They are two sides of a really dumb coin: The inability to just quite simply say, "I need help."
I wouldn't call Second Sunday Supper a boulder, given all the truly heavy burdens that life can muster up, and it may be true that if I tried a little harder, thought a little smarter, I could pull it off on my own. Two things may be at work here, so it may be a good thing that I am simultaneously working my way through The Spirituality of Imperfection. 1) I am not (deep sigh) perfect, and it really shouldn't trouble me to let that sink in and embrace it. 2) There are a lot of last minute things to do, and short of serving up peanut butter jelly sandwiches, dinner for twenty calls for more than two hands.
I am accepting help, happily, at Second Sunday Supper. Help.
Sometimes, I just need help. A gift.
Learning to receive is a whole 'nother bag, but we'll get to that.
Big loves,
Vickie
Thursday, March 8, 2012
March 8, 2012
Thursday.
Kinda puts you in mind of "Another one bites the dust."
Another week almost gone. A house in disarray. A "Do List" to big to do.
And yet, I do not feel like a wreck. All in all, it hasn't been a bad week. Still on Planet Earth. Still the un-heavenly things that one has come to expect. But, along the way, hugs and little successes. Encouragement.
Maybe, instead, "Just give me one more day."
Last week, I was chasing monkeys. Snow Monkeys, to be precise. Maia's posting of her picture of them, taken at the Detroit Zoo, sent me off on my wild monkey chase. With a curiously relentless obsession, I wanted to know: "How did Snow Monkeys end up living in Laredo?" The casual "funded by an eccentric philantrophist," did not suffice. Who was this person, and again, why Laredo?
The more I learned, the more questions I had, but I felt a great whoosh of satisfaction when I got a real name, a real reason for the transfer, and the real reason for Laredo.
Along the way I also learned:
1) Don't be so smug. You know all those 3 x 5's you made when you did your 9th grade research paper? Not such a bad idea after all. Somewhere along the line, I read that the Snow Monkeys of Kyoto had learned how to trick the automatic doors on the grocery stores in Japan and gone to helping themselves to the fruits and vegetables. I may or may not have marked that page as a favorite. I may not have considered it to be important at the time, but when I got around to writing the blog, I really wanted that piece of information.
2) I know. I know. You thought you were being all modern and uptown by marking the pages to your favorites, and that you thought putting it all in your Writing Folder would be the magic. Did you notice that it wasn't? That the more bookmarks you've made the harder it is to remember which one had that piece of information, and that the descriptions might as well have been in Japanese for all the help they were?
3) Evernote. Why don't you try that next time? I'll let you get away with online 3 x 5's, especially since you can do a search for a phrase, and that could save some time.
4) Those stories about people who write one sentence, or a sentence and a half --- they are probably true, and it can happen to you. Bemusing as that is, to see yourself padding around the house loop in your little socks, trying to pull your words together --- it puts a new spin on things. You are used to writing from the heart, expressing things that are already in you, fully formed. I'm not really sure what you would do if you had a real writing assignment.
5) Which brings me to my next point. You figured you'd research during the week and then whip it all together in Friday's writing hour. You have yet to do it in less than 3 hours, and that's not even counting the time it has taken to wrangle with the picture links. Think about that the next time you read a column or article. True, professional writers may be able to zap it together faster than you can, but it is more likely true that they have a lot of time invested.
This week, I'm not doing any research, per se. This week I am going back through my Boundaries note cards, since I finished them yesterday, to select the ones I need to review yet again. This week, I am going to reflect on then and now, and see where we might be on that growth curve.
But wherever I am
I know this much to be true
From then
Till now
And tomorrow, too
I have the perfect best friend
In you.
Big loves,
Vickie
Last week, I was chasing monkeys. Snow Monkeys, to be precise. Maia's posting of her picture of them, taken at the Detroit Zoo, sent me off on my wild monkey chase. With a curiously relentless obsession, I wanted to know: "How did Snow Monkeys end up living in Laredo?" The casual "funded by an eccentric philantrophist," did not suffice. Who was this person, and again, why Laredo?
The more I learned, the more questions I had, but I felt a great whoosh of satisfaction when I got a real name, a real reason for the transfer, and the real reason for Laredo.
Along the way I also learned:
1) Don't be so smug. You know all those 3 x 5's you made when you did your 9th grade research paper? Not such a bad idea after all. Somewhere along the line, I read that the Snow Monkeys of Kyoto had learned how to trick the automatic doors on the grocery stores in Japan and gone to helping themselves to the fruits and vegetables. I may or may not have marked that page as a favorite. I may not have considered it to be important at the time, but when I got around to writing the blog, I really wanted that piece of information.
2) I know. I know. You thought you were being all modern and uptown by marking the pages to your favorites, and that you thought putting it all in your Writing Folder would be the magic. Did you notice that it wasn't? That the more bookmarks you've made the harder it is to remember which one had that piece of information, and that the descriptions might as well have been in Japanese for all the help they were?
3) Evernote. Why don't you try that next time? I'll let you get away with online 3 x 5's, especially since you can do a search for a phrase, and that could save some time.
4) Those stories about people who write one sentence, or a sentence and a half --- they are probably true, and it can happen to you. Bemusing as that is, to see yourself padding around the house loop in your little socks, trying to pull your words together --- it puts a new spin on things. You are used to writing from the heart, expressing things that are already in you, fully formed. I'm not really sure what you would do if you had a real writing assignment.
5) Which brings me to my next point. You figured you'd research during the week and then whip it all together in Friday's writing hour. You have yet to do it in less than 3 hours, and that's not even counting the time it has taken to wrangle with the picture links. Think about that the next time you read a column or article. True, professional writers may be able to zap it together faster than you can, but it is more likely true that they have a lot of time invested.
This week, I'm not doing any research, per se. This week I am going back through my Boundaries note cards, since I finished them yesterday, to select the ones I need to review yet again. This week, I am going to reflect on then and now, and see where we might be on that growth curve.
But wherever I am
I know this much to be true
From then
Till now
And tomorrow, too
I have the perfect best friend
In you.
Big loves,
Vickie
Thursday, March 1, 2012
March 1, 2012
Can you believe it is almost time to change back to Daylight Savings Time? Rain every other day, which is what we're having here, means winter. Course it came on the heels of days that almost tricked us into thinking that spring was a done deal. The pear tree has a few blossoms, as does the crabapple. I started to get all excited, and take a picture, and post it on Facebook, but we've had at least two false starts --- signs of spring followed by a winter smackdown. Now I'm just a cynic.
My new office desk is supposed to be here Saturday. Theoretically it is the key to reorganization of All My Stuff, a drama with greater longevity than ABC"s All My Children. Unfortunately.
As for walking three times a day --- Well, the flip of the calendar brings a wry smile. My decidedly unsuccessful bid to make February an improvement on January has made the quest for March to be an improvement on February shamefully simple.
Side note: Someone must have told the fig about Daylight Savings Time: Leaves so big you can see them from the patio door. Either that or it is competing with the Confederate Rose, which is also sporting leaves this morning.
My morning routine does seem to be taking hold, though. I can take my morning 12 minute walk (in the house), make my 1/2 grilled cheese sandwich, feed the dogs, and read the day's quote from "Boundaries," pretty much all at the same time.
Yesterday's reading was kind of interesting --- "In addition to the freedom to say no, we find the freedom to say a whole-hearted, unconflicted, gratitude-driven yes to others." I don't think I've given that idea enough play time. If your no doesn't mean no, or if you don't have a no; if your yes means everything from "I'd be excited about saying yes if I hadn't already said yes to so many other things," to "Yes, but I'm going to resent you for it," you don't really have a "yes," either, do you?
I pulled my Friday blog together, stymied about two sentences in, deleting, retyping, deleting again, and then remembered various and sundry bits of writing advice: Just get something down. You're going to have to rewrite, anyway.
I wrangled with the picture links well past my allotted writing time, and then let 'er go, imperfect, and with apology. It would be more fun to say that I got it just right, right out of the gate, but what I did do was keep my promise to myself to post it on Friday.
Then I sent a link to each Flickr contributor who had let me link to their pictures. For two days, I heard not a word. I got cranky. I shook my head. I thought about Betsy's blog about how long one should wait to hear back from an editor after a manuscript subscription, and what one could do in the intervening time to keep from going crazy. I considered this dealing with silence/rejection to be a training of sorts, just in case....
And then I heard a word. There's no doubt that some of the photographers, ("When I took that picture I never expected it to be used anyplace, so yes you can use it!) were sharing my sharing of their work, and that they were likely being gracious and complimentary because of the circumstances, but I heard a word. One of them even indicated that he got my major point, and that tickled me.
I hope spring sneaks in, bringing your ducks, and surprise plants, and days of ease and joy. (I wondered, briefly, this morning, how many little treasures I might have overlooked if I hadn't been set to focus on them as a way of not drowning in whatever "big sadness" was going on at the time.) Hope you get too many treasures to count. ;-)
Big loves,
Vickie
My new office desk is supposed to be here Saturday. Theoretically it is the key to reorganization of All My Stuff, a drama with greater longevity than ABC"s All My Children. Unfortunately.
As for walking three times a day --- Well, the flip of the calendar brings a wry smile. My decidedly unsuccessful bid to make February an improvement on January has made the quest for March to be an improvement on February shamefully simple.
Side note: Someone must have told the fig about Daylight Savings Time: Leaves so big you can see them from the patio door. Either that or it is competing with the Confederate Rose, which is also sporting leaves this morning.
My morning routine does seem to be taking hold, though. I can take my morning 12 minute walk (in the house), make my 1/2 grilled cheese sandwich, feed the dogs, and read the day's quote from "Boundaries," pretty much all at the same time.
Yesterday's reading was kind of interesting --- "In addition to the freedom to say no, we find the freedom to say a whole-hearted, unconflicted, gratitude-driven yes to others." I don't think I've given that idea enough play time. If your no doesn't mean no, or if you don't have a no; if your yes means everything from "I'd be excited about saying yes if I hadn't already said yes to so many other things," to "Yes, but I'm going to resent you for it," you don't really have a "yes," either, do you?
I pulled my Friday blog together, stymied about two sentences in, deleting, retyping, deleting again, and then remembered various and sundry bits of writing advice: Just get something down. You're going to have to rewrite, anyway.
I wrangled with the picture links well past my allotted writing time, and then let 'er go, imperfect, and with apology. It would be more fun to say that I got it just right, right out of the gate, but what I did do was keep my promise to myself to post it on Friday.
Then I sent a link to each Flickr contributor who had let me link to their pictures. For two days, I heard not a word. I got cranky. I shook my head. I thought about Betsy's blog about how long one should wait to hear back from an editor after a manuscript subscription, and what one could do in the intervening time to keep from going crazy. I considered this dealing with silence/rejection to be a training of sorts, just in case....
And then I heard a word. There's no doubt that some of the photographers, ("When I took that picture I never expected it to be used anyplace, so yes you can use it!) were sharing my sharing of their work, and that they were likely being gracious and complimentary because of the circumstances, but I heard a word. One of them even indicated that he got my major point, and that tickled me.
I hope spring sneaks in, bringing your ducks, and surprise plants, and days of ease and joy. (I wondered, briefly, this morning, how many little treasures I might have overlooked if I hadn't been set to focus on them as a way of not drowning in whatever "big sadness" was going on at the time.) Hope you get too many treasures to count. ;-)
Big loves,
Vickie
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