What good is a blog without honesty? Who wants to read about a perfect person living a perfect life? Personally, I want to watch the crazies: The Osbourne’s, Trump, and daytime Soaps. By watching other poor souls struggle and make mistakes, I feel better about my own actions and the crazy voice (I like to call Devil Speak) in my head.
For many of us, this Christmas will be different. As I sit and think about my growing grandchildren, I reflect on Christmases past.
I’m not good at remembering proper nouns: people’s names, places and events. But I am good at remembering all the other sentence structure that make for good conversation and storytelling.
I love flower arranging, cooking, and being outdoors, but gardening is not my jam. The ground is just too far down there, and it wreaks havoc on my nails. But my son, Gray, loves the soil and the science of plants. He gardens without gloves!
Understanding the importance of art to our society is subjective. There are so many mediums that speak to a wide variety of people in different ways. For instance, I love big, vibrant paintings and ballet, my kids and now my granddaughter love singing and theatre, and my son-in-law’s family is filled with musicians.
Well, I finally did it. I fulfilled a promise to my late girlfriend, Sarah Smith, and had the dreaded colonoscopy. The diet modification for this procedure begins a week in advance and, on the day before, you are instructed to consume only liquids. This is some good advice, because that night’s prep is eventful, and not in a good way.
I am a crossword puzzle geek. And if you are a crossword puzzle geek, you know that the questions asked and words used are repetitious. Because of this repetition, the more puzzles you work, the better you get at solving them. And the better you get, the more you are able to graduate to harder puzzles.
You know, mothers know everything. Early on, I knew -and my mother knew- my first born, cherub-like son was probably gay.
A month or so ago, I could tell Grady needed a vacation, so I planned what I thought would be an easy get away to the nearby Mountain Harbor Resort on Lake Ouachita. It’s a place full of memories for our family.
The slow pace of life and small friend groups brought on by the pandemic have turned me into a bit of a bore (not that I mind); never in my life have I watched so many movies.
Sometimes you just buy something you really love and want to share the good news with friends and neighbors. Well, that is how I feel about my new wrist weights.
Lying face down, nude, with my eyes closed, the masseuse said, “I invite you to relax, concentrate on your breathing, live in the moment, and love yourself.
As my modesty fell away, I floated away.
I know, I know, I know, enough about the new sober Grady. I promise I will stop sharing his good news soon, because later this month I have some exciting news to share with everyone. I can’t wait! Stay tuned.
About Grady, one more time:
For a man who reads but never posts on Facebook, I was curious (later shocked) when my husband kept asking me, on our anniversary day, “Have you seen Facebook today?”
A year or so ago, I lost a close friend to an illness that, if caught, could have been cured thanks to early detection.
Dogs are great but that doesn’t mean everyone should have one, especially young people whose lives are in flux.
That is why, when son Jack came home from a dog walk in the woods with friends and announced he was thinking of adopting a dog he just met, I was vehemently opposed.
My neighborhood is full of grown children that are home from college and elsewhere, sheltering in place and strolling in the sunshine with their parents. Who would have thought that in January, when I was renovating the carriage house in my backyard, that it would soon be occupied by son Jack, forced to move home from college because of a world-wide pandemic?
A couple of things: I have never used the word “devoid” so much in my life. The streets are devoid of cars, the buses are devoid of passengers, and churches devoid of parishioners. And another thing: I have not cooked this much since the kids started graduating from high school in 2006.
To bring a little levity to the workplace, everyone was given a yard stick to play with and carry around as a reminder to stay 6 feet apart. It’s been really fun! The yardsticks have become swords, light sabers, microphones, walking sticks and more. But social-distancing and remembering to stay 6 feet apart after-hours is not as easy.
My granddaughter, Evelyn, used the words “uncanny valley” when I mentioned taking her and her little brother, Marshall, to see the new Jim Carrey fantasy/sci-fi movie, Sonic The Hedgehog.
Let’s Lent! By that, I mean everyone can participate in the Christian tradition of Lent that began this past Tuesday, known as Mardi Gras (or Shrove Tuesday). You don’t have to be an Anglican Christian to observe a Lenten practice for 40 days. I have Baptist friends and evangelical friends that also enjoy the season of self-improvement.
There are so many volunteer opportunities but, with limited hours in a day, one must pick and choose carefully. Because of this fact, I have narrowed most of my volunteering to two organizations: my church, Trinity Cathedral, and the Dreamland Ballroom.
I am often aligned with creative people. In the past, I wondered why, because I didn’t feel like I had any discernible art-form. Then, one day, while interviewing a guest on Up In Your Business, I realized that business itself is creative and that problem solving with others, in the frame of business, is my art-form.
About 4 years ago, I found myself running to the car in pursuit of a new life. I knew the next day was Easter 2016, but what I didn’t realize until later is that it was also a blood moon on the Hebrew calendar.
I’ve blogged about it before: anger is a secondary emotion. It comes after a vulnerable emotion like being tired, hurt, disappointed, or lonely. It’s a defense mechanism. And with this sequence of pain comes anger, then “the voice;” that internal negative repertoire in your head. For lack of a better description, I call this nagging voice “devils speak” because, if repeated over and over in your head, it will map a really nasty little neuron pattern in your brain. And if that ain’t some kind of devil, I don’t know what is.