Change

Right now I feel the uncertainty of my surroundings as I am living in a sea of packed boxes.  I am having to slow down to the speed of my life and it is very uncomfortable.  I am use to my nest being organized, available, and comfortable.  Right now it is none of these.

The house is “staged” and ready for the photographer to come in to take the pictures for the internet.  Living in a state of perfection is not the greatest.  Yes, it is clean and it looks nice but it doesn’t have the lived in feeling that I relish.    I guess this is all just part of what is necessary to release this house to some wonderful buyers that will allow me to move to Oklahoma.

Even the puppies I live with are feeling change and at times, stay very close and others, want nothing to do with me.  When I want snuggly, warm, furry bodies to hug, none are available. 

I am very grateful that I am able to pack up my treasurers and take them with me.  There were times in my life when that was not an option and it still makes me sad that I had to give up some very wonderful things. 

Every move allows us to get rid of and move on.  Granted, there is stuff in my life that is easy to recycle.  I sometimes wish it were as easy to recycle the baggage in mind as it is in reality. 

Life goes on and I am ready for a new adventure in sleet, snow and ice.  Winter will truly afford me the time to snuggle in, recharge, and maybe get some serious writing done. 

Either way, I am looking forward to the new and different, as I remember to stay present and realize that I have some things to complete and to close the book on 2013.  All is well and I feel thoroughly blessed in every way.  Happy New Year.

Waiting

I am in a waiting period.  Feels like a fallow time where everything is resting - getting ready for something big to happen.  I can feel the change in my bones but it’s not yet.   Alan is already out of state working in his new position.  I have been left here to get the house ready for sale.  I am in the process of staging it, making it look as though there is plenty of room of everything, except my craft room.  That is my “catch all” room and how I am going to “stage” it is still a mystery for me.  I don’t want to pack it because there are some projects that I want to continue and maybe finish before we move.  I know that I will virtually be “house bound” once the showings start as I need to be here to capture the puppies and get them out of the house before anyone shows up. 

It has been ten days since Alan left and I am not a happy camper being alone.  Even though we email, telephone and Skype, it is not the same as being in the same house at the same time.  I have had to take over some of his duties like taking out the garbage, etc.  As time goes on, I am finding other things that need to be done.  I know that eventually we will be together again because he left his “toys.” 

I think I have learned to sleep alone again.  The “noises” of the house no longer wake me up and I love having the whole bed to sprawl around.  Not as much fun as sharing a bed but it has its perks.

Deciding what to pack and what not to pack is a challenge.  I have decided that the kitchen is closed for the duration.  No major cooking or baking until we are settled into the new house.  I am also having to empty the freezer and eating up what is in there.  So far, it has claimed some interesting combinations. 

Today’s project is to pack up the “bottoms” of the closets, pantry and hall closets.  Then when they are opened up, and the floors are cleared, it gives the impression that there is a lot of open space.  Also, getting some extra bedding packed up and into the storage unit so that it is out of the way and vision of perspective buyers. 

Doesn’t this sound like a fun life?  I know, fallow!

More Bridges

P. S.

Today's paper had a blurb about a Kansas farmer that built 150-foot long replica of San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge on this farm!  What is with the farmers who have bridges in the middle of their fields?  Wonder if he has the safety bar that keeps little kids from sliding from the bridge into the "earth" below!  Does he charge a fee to people to "see" and walk the bridge?

I guess all of us need hobbies and something to do.

Hotel Living

My Beloved and I spent some time in Oklahoma City and I was stunned at what passed for okay behavior in several venues. 

First, having dinner at a fairly up scale restaurant the first night, seeing the men wear their cowboy hats or baseball caps at dinner was a sight to behold.  As my sister would say, “they probably didn’t have a mother to teach them differently.” 

The next morning walking down the corridor to the elevator, I heard two doors open and people walked out and allowed their doors to slam.  I purposely walked slowly to give them time to get the elevator, as I knew I would not be able to keep my mouth shut if I had to spend anymore them with any of them.

Next, I am in the downstairs area for the complimentary breakfast and I see a guy walk by in his pajamas and socks.  Jamers?!  No sooner, had I gotten my mouth shut than a whole family came into the area and they are all in their jammers. 

I may be from the “old” school that says, dress appropriately when in public, but I guess this rule is only for me.  I couldn’t help but wonder if these people were “commando” too!  I could hear my mother’s voice in my head that said “be sure to wear underwear all the time because you never know…”  She never did explain the “never know” part of that sentence and I never thought to ask.  She use to make me wear underwear in my jammers because “you never know…”

Without slamming the Midwestern part of our country, I can’t help but feel that the farther you are from the big city, the more relaxed traditional behaviors become.  Considering that we are planning to move to OK City, it has to be a reminder for me to keep up my standards in order to maintain a “presence” in the city.  Spirit, help me to put away my judgment mind about all of this.

You, of course, don’t have a problem with any judgments, do you?

Road Trips

One of the things Alan and I did while dating, was taking road trips since he had just moved here from Memphis and wanted to see what the area around San Antonio had to offer.  The Hill Country nearby is without a doubt the most glorious scenic area second only to the island of Kauai and the Grand Canyon.

To encourage the road trips, we have a selection of vehicles in which our comfort is at a premium.  The latest addition is a 2004 XK8 Jaguar convertible.  After giving Alan static about getting a “gun metal gray” car, he very calmly looked at me and said that the color was “platinum.”  Okay! 

Yesterday, we took our platinum convertible on a road trip to Corpus Christi to see the gulf and then we headed north and east into Rockport and back to San Antonio.  One of the thrills of going south is looking for what I have termed “our bridge” which is a bridge just sitting in the middle of a field with a “for sale” sign on it.  This time, I wanted to get the phone number so I could call and get some information on it – like cost, weight, material, etc.

What promoted the inquiry was an article in the Saturday funnies that a bridge on the East Coast has been stolen.  How do you steal a bridge?  This is another one of those situations in which major planning has to take place.  The East Coast bridge weighed 40 tons.  How do you even move a 40 ton bridge and do you need a permit to do it if using a major road?  How long does it take to “break down” it into manageable pieces and do you need to be quiet about it?  Seems to me to be a very noisy process.

“Our bridge” wasn’t there or we missed it while talking about it so making a telephone call was needless.  It still keeps me thinking about who and why would you “sell” a bridge. 

The only thing useful about this blog is a reminder to “not burn your bridges,” as someone would probably call the fire department. 

Gratitude

This time of year always reminds me how blessed my life is and how wonderful it is to enjoy the standard of living that surrounds me.  One of the major influences I have had in my life early were books. 

Having been raised as an only child (my sister above me is nine years older and my oldest brother is twenty years older), the only friends I had growing up were books and my imagination.  So, I used books to communicate, to teach, to carry me away to wonderful places to meet wonderful people. 

Today, my favorite leisure time experience is curling up with a good book and it doesn’t matter if it is fiction or not.  My idea of a great vacation is, plopping down on a chaise lounge with a good book, and someone fairly young with just a few clothes serving me cool drinks as needed. 

When I look around my office, my walls are lined with bookcases and are filled with the experiences of people who were compelled to enlighten me with their wisdom in their books.  I find it to be an interesting area of thought to be able to put common sense into readable communication because common sense is not so common these days.

On this Thanksgiving Eve, I am so grateful to all of the authors who had the courage to publish, who gave so much of themselves in print, to teach me what I am today.  When I look around the world I have created for myself, I am infinitely grateful to be so blessed. 

Allow the Great Substance of the Universe to be your expression and experience of life today.

Hotels

Having just spent a week at a plush hotel in Las Vegas, I had forgotten what it was like living with thousands of people all moving in their own worlds like they were living at home. 

I was stunned at the amount of doors that were slammed throughout the hotel at all hours of the day or night.  I realized that living behind closed doors amounted to being at home alone if one choose to do that. 

Once out of the room, everything changed.  The rules of etiquette and just good manners were lost.  I was again stunned at the rudeness, impatience and people just cutting in line like they were the only ones in the universe. 

I first encountered the line cutting in the sumptuous buffet that was offered at all hours of the day or night.  I was incredibly surprised at the quality of food available upon demand and in quantities that meant that there was more than enough for all no matter how many times you wanted to get more. 

I had heard my former husband refer to a “rube” but had never quite experienced what it meant first hand until Las Vegas.  I watched this man charge through the place, often just reaching in front of others without regard to courtesy or manners.  And I watched as many were so stunned by the actions, they didn’t say anything to him.  I am not sure what I would have said either.

For the rest of my stay, every time I was awakened by a door slamming shut, I just figured it was the rube.  Apparently, there were a lot of them staying on the same floor as I was.