Unemployment Benefit: The Fair, home tour and dancing!

What a super-fantabulous fun-filled day yesterday! I spent the day at the fair having fun, then went on a VIP champagne–and–hors d’oeuvres home tour of beautiful model homes and then finished off the night at my friend’s Scottish country dancing class. (I did spend two hours in the morning working on my job search; I was a responsible adult.)

Orange County Fair – My granddaughters, their cousin, my brother and I all went. We started with some food (Wow! Prices have really gone up; had to shop around for something that didn’t require selling a kidney.) and watched a bit of chef Robert Irvine’s demonstration.

Wandered over to the tattoo booth and I got a mehndi (henna) tattoo and the girls got airbrushed tats. Then it was off to the giant ferris wheel, where the attendant looked like Snoop Dogg. What a view from this thing! Loved it. My brother and I wandered the exhibits while the girls went on more rides then we all watched young people dancing and performing at one of the stages. Oh! And we finished up with funnel cake. Always have to have funnel cake at the fair!

   

VIP Home Tour – I received an invitation from a home development around the corner to come view their latest model, complete with champagne and hors d’oeuvres, so my friend Vicki and I went to go hobnob with the upper crust. (Actually, Vic IS upper crust, but she’s the cool kind.)

I’ve always loved to view model homes; when my daughter was young, we used to visit one of the local developments, pretending we lived in “our” selected model, deciding how we’d arrange our furniture – fun, imaginative play. Vic and I had a great time enjoying the models, although we had to question why one of them used plain old white 4x4 tile in the bathrooms. The food was fabulous: melon with prosciutto, fabulous cheeses (my fave was the cherried cheese), fruits, wraps, assorted crackers. One guy was obviously there for the food and drink as he kept going back for seconds, thirds, fourths.

Scottish Country Dancing – And then we were off to Vic’s dance class. This was my first time seeing her group, although she’s been dancing for years. I think I could do this! I love choreography and it was pretty easy to pick that part up since I have a ton of ballet training; the challenge (as in most dance) would be in the technique. It’s similar to ballet in some respects, though, so maybe I have a shot. I told Vic that it’s different than my usual salsa dancing where there’s a lot of body contact. “It’s British,” she laughed; “they don’t touch.” ha!

Ruthless purging …

Happy 2012, friends!

Periodically, I do an assessment or discernment, asking myself:
Am I holding onto anything that no longer serves my highest and greatest good? Is there anything in my life that no longer serves a purpose in where I am currently in my life? Is there any burden that I’m carrying that needs to be released?

I’ve used this technique over the years to release all kinds of things, from just excess stuff to jobs and even relationships. Releasing helps me to make transitions in my life, to make shifts that hopefully help me to open up and grow by not clinging to things that no longer serve a purpose.

Right now, I feel the urge to purge—to lighten up, clear out, freshen up—and declared last Saturday Ruthless Purging Day. It’s carried over into Sunday and now today, but boy am I making happy progress in going through all this stuff, clearing, cleaning, organizing. Whew!

First, I finally sold my china cabinet. Too big, too cramped for seating. Helped carry it out with the guy who bought it. Heavy! Of course, then I had to go through the contents and toss/donate/store everything.

     

Mom’s china is going to my brother so I went to the Container Store and got china storage packs. (And other stuff; that place is dangerous.) Packed up Mom’s beautiful china. (Being from Texas, she loved yellow roses.)

Then I went through everything downstairs—cabinets, drawers, closet—and kept filling bags. A friend is going to be taking a rug, a floor lamp, a table lamp and the coffee table in about a month, so I’m releasing those to live a new life in her new home. I gave her some stemware, a wireless modem and a large tray, too.

Cleaned and rearranged stuff downstairs and I just love the new, more open look of everything. Today, I’m working on the upstairs bedroom and office, filling more bags to toss or donate.

It feels great to lighten my load and release things that no longer serve me and my  needs well. I think we need to take a look at things from time to time and get a fresh, new perspective, whether it’s stuff or behaviors (another aspect I’m working on) or the people in our lives. When anything has fulfilled its purpose in our lives, it may be time to let it go and live another life.

May every thing and every one in your life serve your highest and greatest good. If something/someone doesn’t serve you well any longer, release it to be of better use to another perhaps. May you be blessed with love, happiness and the freedom to be authentically YOU.

Pickle forks

 

A few months ago as I opened the flatware drawer to grab a spoon, something made me stop and look at the contents within. Huh! I pulled out a bunch of spoons and spread them on the counter. A motley collection it was: mismatched, some slightly bent, some tarnished silverplate, one poor rough-edged piece obviously rescued from the teeth of the disposal. Most of them had ornate scrollwork on the handles, not at all my style; I prefer simple and smooth, more refined and elegant to me than the fussy swirlies on these strange spoons. Where did they come from? I know I didn’t buy them. I haven’t purchased new flatware since I was married at 20 years old. Some of those original wedding pieces were still in the drawer; some I knew had been chewed up in the garbage disposal and tossed years ago. I still had most of the original forks, knives, soup spoons, iced tea spoons. I also had eight matching pickle forks. Pickle forks that I had never used (does anyone use them?); pickle forks that I would never use in the future.

It’s funny how we collect things over time, not really noticing how things slowly accumulate, getting shoved into drawers, finding homes in closets or cabinets. Things are left behind, added to our other things, given to us as gifts (even though they’re things we’d never buy for ourselves). We keep and keep. Maybe I’ll find a use. As soon as I give it away, I just KNOW I’ll need it. I even saw a magazine pic with spoons used as garden plant markers with the plant names on the bowl of the spoon. What a great idea … that I’ll never do!

When we’re young, our parents choose our stuff for us; it’s not really our stuff; it belongs to our parents and we’re told when we can use it and how. We grow up and then we really start to accumulate our own stuff; the real fun begins! We get an education, a career. We get a spouse—and all the wedding and shower gifts to start our lives together. We get in-laws, children, a house, furniture, a garden, cars. In our 20s, 30s, 40s, we busily acquire all the stuff of life, adding and adding. Christmas lights, decorations, Halloween stuff, snow stuff, golf stuff, vacation stuff … stuff, stuff, stuff, stuff. Whew!

And then one day … we open a drawer and see all the stuff that we never really intended to acquire, the stuff that doesn’t add value and help achieve our highest and greatest good, stuff that no longer serves us well. We begin to reverse the cycle. We want less stuff, not more. We want stuff that fits us better, of our own choosing; stuff that elevates, that reflects who we are. We start divesting ourselves of all the old stuff, the things that don’t match us any longer. We release the burdens, the extra weight we’ve been carting around in life. We choose a new definition, a simpler, cleaner, more spare definition, tossing away the excess frills and fussiness that are not part of our essence, paring down to the purer sense of who we really are at the core and choosing those items that serve us better.

For Christmas, my thoughtful daughter bought me a new set of matching flatware, simple, clean-lined, perfect, my first new flatware since I was a young bride. I emptied the drawer, clearing everything out, amazed at some of the odd pieces I found in there. It all went into a donation box and I washed and dried my new flatware and put it in the drawer. (Doesn’t it look beautiful in the pic above?) Then I cleaned out the utensil drawer, getting rid of things I’ve never used (I don’t cook) or didn’t need (melon baller?), putting them in the donation box, too.

It’s snowballed and I’m starting to go through closets and cabinets and drawers, releasing things that no longer serve me well, packing it all up to donate, clearing my spaces and the excess that was burdening my life. I’m intentionally choosing what stays and what goes, not just letting the accumulation take over my spaces as before. Little by little, I’m reclaiming each of these spaces, dumping out the old, clearing the clutter from my life, getting rid of the “pickle forks” that I don’t need and will never use. I’m reclaiming my sacred spaces for myself, with intention and with love for the beauty and peace of empty spaces as well as for the things of value that I choose to keep.

It’s good to regularly stop and ask ourselves “What is no longer serving me well in my life?” We need to do a periodic cleanse and determine what that is, whether it’s pickle forks, friendships, a job, a location, a pattern of behavior. May we all have a happy and clear 2011!

Namaste

Start the car! Start the car!

When I moved into my home, I had just about the ugliest staircase ever: green carpet that wrapped around the steps and down onto the wall and a chipped white iron railing, the kind you might use outside in a garden, not indoors. Ick. I wanted to block as much of it as possible, so a designer friend custom-made a nice large wood entertainment center (armoire and side bookcases) that managed to hide some of the staircase ugliness.

Fast forward to 2008: I had the staircase redone! Hmmm ... but now the armoire/bookcases covered my beautiful new staircase. Another change needed! I sold the entertainment center on Craigslist last month and brought out the old TV stand until I have a job and can get a nice, new one.

In the meantime, though, I needed a bookcase for the goodies that had been on the other two bookcases. The bookcase had to be no more than 24” wide in order to fit on the wall designated for it. Ideally, I wanted one that was open on all sides, too. That wall has an outlet that I use for the vacuum cleaner and I didn’t want to have the outlet blocked if I could help it. Searched and searched; so difficult to find a bookcase that size. I finally found one online at Bed Bath and Beyond: open sides, right size, wood, $99.99 – hurray! I called the corporate number and found they had it in stock in my local store, so I called the store, had them put it on hold and rushed right over. So excited!

I got to the store and they pulled out the bookcase from the back. It was the wrong one! Yes, $99.99; yes, wood; yes, the same width. But it was closed on the sides. Oh no. I’m sad. Together the sales guy and I went online and I showed him the one I wanted. $99.99, wood, open sides, 24” wide. He checked. They had it in stock! Yay! I’m happy!

Off he went to get it from the back. Yes! It’s the right one, $99.99 sticker on the box, the whole shebang. Relief!

The cashier scanned the $99.99 sticker. Uh-oh!
She scanned it again. Hmmm …
"What’s wrong?"
“Ma’am, it’s coming up as $14.99.”
“But the sticker says it’s $99.99,” I say, “and it’s $99.99 online, too.”
(When I told the story to my family recently, it was at this point that they started hitting me and saying “Only YOU would even question something like that!” Guess they have a point. I should know when to keep my mouth shut.)
“Well, ma’am, it’s coming up as $14.99 so that’s the price.”

Coming to my senses – but still feeling faintly guilty – I pay, they load it up in a shopping cart and the guy helps me take it to the car and loads it in for me. I quickly thanked him … and blasted outta there, thinking of the IKEA winter sale commercial “Start the car! Start the car! WOOOOOOO!”

I know. I should’ve bought two.

Longing for home ... a poem

I read the following poem recently and something in it moved me to tears. It speaks of strength and bravery, yet also of the longing for home and the wish for a life of peace with those we love. Home, peace, love, family - it speaks to our deepest desires.

I think it's beautiful and wanted to share it with you. Please enjoy.

I am a Greek warrior

Bold and strong

I fight with my allies

But I want to go home.

I miss the high hills

The small city-states

The olive groves

and the statues galore.

I've been fighting for years

But I'm just getting old.

The love of my life is sitting at home

Watching the baby I left all alone.

But the battles are over.

The wars are all done.

I'm a Greek warrior

And I'm on my way home.

Living the fullest ...

"Do you have patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving till the right action arises by itself?”
- Lao Tzu

While I'm laid off and looking for my next great new job, I'm also trying to live the fullest life I can at this time and in this space. We have to make the best of any situation we are given. "Receive what you have been given."

Perhaps I've been given this (hopefully brief) respite from work for a reason. No matter the reason, though, each day must be lived to the fullest, being fully present to every moment, every breath. It's pointless to squander today by worrying about tomorrow. We only have this moment, right now. Be prepared always, but don't waste time in pointless worrying. It doesn't change anything and it only discolors the beauty and wonder of now.

In making the most of the situation, I start each morning with a walk. After years of sitting nearly immobile at a desk for long days (I used to tell my boss that I felt like a veal calf, locked in a pen), it's wonderful to get out and move each morning, drinking in the cool morning air, feeling the light breeze that is nearly a constant presence here at the beach. I listen to the birds chirping and watch the squirrels skitter up trees as I approach. I find myself smiling as I walk, enjoying every sensation, feeling the rhythm of the day as it opens up. A beautiful way to start each day.


I spend more time in the garden, too. I've cleaned up the winter debris, trimmed and fed the plants. I listen for the whirrrrrr of the hummingbirds as they visit the garden. I pull green worms off the sweetpeas ... cut white and red roses for bouquets to enjoy inside my home. Sweetpeas are my favorite flower: deliciously fragrant, frilly, feminine, colorful. I keep a little vase of them on the kitchen counter so I can stick my nose in them at any time. aaaaaah ...!

I'm also enjoying the luxury of time to call or meet up with friends. And having time to read articles online that I would've normally skimmed over. And doing some detailed cleaning that I've had to put off for so long. I love a clean, sparkling house! (When did the baseboards get so icky? Looks like I'll be painting trim, too.)


One thing that I've never had time to do was cook. As a single mom, I always worked long hours to support my daughter and I, so I didn't have time to plan, shop and prepare meals. After she grew up, I still worked long hours; plus there's a very low ROI to plan, shop and prepare a meal for one person. Hours of prep and clean-up for a meal consumed in 15 minutes. Whenever I'd buy fresh produce, I'd use some in a recipe, then the rest would go bad before I had time to prepare another meal using those ingredients. Such a waste. It's been nice to be home and to actually use up all the celery, all the onions, all the apples and oranges and cucumbers and everything else that used to spoil. I made soup for the first in my life recently. I felt so accomplished!


I call all these pleasures "Unemployment Benefits," things that I wouldn't normally have time to indulge in while working long days. If I knew that I would be starting a new job, say, on June 1, I would be thoroughly enjoying this time of being unemployed. There would be no nagging voice in the back of my mind harping at me constantly to focus on the job search to the exclusion of anything else. I could sit outside in the sun, guilt-free, relaxed, basking in the beautiful weather, the cool ocean breeze, listening to the birds, smiling at the hummingbirds' whirrrrrr, loving the scents of all the flowers.

I'd love to be working, but while I'm not, I'll live the fullest life I can and enjoy my unemployment benefits of beautiful days and simple times.

winter's light ...

Winter's light slants in through my bedroom window, suffusing the walls and the room in a surreal golden glow. This is one of my favorite times of day in the winter, shortly before the sun ends her day's journey by dropping into the Pacific Ocean, lingering above the waves, then - with a flash! - dropping gently over the horizon.

I was recently donating blood at the nearby park and I looked east out the window as I was lying there. I gazed at the distinctive bark of the tree outside, really studying its peeling beauty, when suddenly the tree became bathed in gold from the west. The nurse was looking the opposite direction, out the front doors facing west and she dreamily said "I love this time of day ... the way the day turns to gold." I turned to look at her and her entire face and body were washed in light as she faced the sun's glow.

In the spring and summer, the sun sits high overhead and my entire courtyard is bright and sunny. In the fall, as the sun moves lower toward the equator, the angle is entirely different. The courtyard falls into shadow, blocked by the buildings, the sunlight too low now to rise above them.

Instead of bold, confident sunshine, we get this moodier, more nuanced light, a gift of winter that makes me pause and be still, be aware. The lower light hits the prisms hanging in the south-facing windows, throwing dancing colors around the rooms. The sun, too high in the summer, only dances the rainbows like this in fall and winter.

Spring and summer are often raucous affairs, with birds singing, flowers blooming, summer parties; everything wildly alive. But fall and winter are gentler, quieter, giving us pause for reflection ... a break from the liveliness of the other two seasons ... passive yin to active yang ... the duality of nature in perfect balance, inviting us to slow down and rest a bit, like all in nature does at this time. She is ever the perfect teacher.

Winter's light slants through my windows and I pause and give thanks.

enough ...

For about the last month, my garage door opener had been making a straining noise as it got to the top when it opened. The problem escalated to the point where last week, it took much longer than normal for the door to raise all the way up, like the motor was having to work extra hard ... just ... to ... get ... the ... door ....umph! ... up. I don't know how to fix stuff like this, but I do know how to dial so I called the repairman, who checked it out yesterday morning and said I needed new springs (with lifetime guarantee), new cable, etc. Total bill: $618. Ouch!

But as I wrote out the check, I found my heart was filled with gratitude. You see, I made a realization yesterday: I had enough money. I had to let that sink in. I could pay a $618 bill with money that I had in my bank account. Even after paying for new stairs last month (for which I'd saved for a few years), I had enough.

This was huge, really huge. And I'm so grateful to be at this point in my life. As a single parent with an ex who didn't pay his child support, times were very, very tough while my daughter was growing up. I paid cash for everything; no cash = no purchase. Over time, things got better, and I finally bought my small 1225 square foot townhome 10 years ago after my daughter had left home to begin her adult life as a wife and mother.

But I still had to stick to a budget, there wasn't enough for extras, clothes shopping was a rare event, no money for "real" jewelry, and I was very frugal with every purchase. I now had a mortgage to pay. My family sometimes jokes that I don't replace things until they're broken or worn out. I'm not a wasteful person; I wring every bit of value that I can from an item before I'll replace it. I don't buy what I don't need. Last year, I went without a DVD player for 8 months after mine broke until my daughter gave me a new one as a Mother's Day gift.

I've been working a lot so I've only vaguely been aware of the upheaval in the financial markets. I always thought I should learn something about investing, so I could better manage my 401K investments. But I never had the time, interest or inclination. Plus, it feels like betting and I'm not a risk-taker when it comes to my hard-earned money. It seems like so many of the financial vehicles (credit default swaps, anyone?) are like trading air: creative made-up bets and gambles.

Despite my ignorance about stock, bonds, investments - and despite two layoffs in the last 7 years - I've managed to get myself into a decent place financially. What a sense of peace and relief that is! I have a couple of 401Ks, an IRA, money in my regular bank savings account and money in a online account that pays a bit more. Nothing fancy, no big returns, but also low risk. My mortgage will be paid off before I retire. I won't get rich this way, but I'm also less likely to be wiped out financially. Probably not a very smart investment strategy, but it's one I'm comfortable with.

As I wrote that check for the garage door repair, I found myself abundantly grateful. I've gone through some challenging times. But I have a job that pays a decent salary, I have no debt, few needs. There are many Americans who are going through their own challenging times and experiencing their own financial struggles as a result of the current economy. I lift them all in prayer and pray that some day, they'll find themselves with a grateful heart when they realize that they've come through the worst of it and they can write a check, knowing the money's in the bank. Having enough is a pretty great thing.

Namaste

wide, open spaces ...

I'm fascinated by the way each of us is so different in the kinds of things that we drawn to or that we respond to. For example, I was talking with a co-worker recently and mentioned that I didn't feel comfortable in Portland, Oregon. I used to travel there on business and found the trees and mountains lush and green and beautiful - but also heavy and oppressive. I felt closed in. I longed for the openness of the expansive horizon at home, of the sun setting over the Pacific. I feel most at peace and most connected to the Divine within when I can see far into the distance, across wide sky and wide open water. It makes me want to spread my arms wide and open my heart chakra. I feel expansive, like I can take a long, deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air and a feeling of light and freedom.

Busyness - like a forest of trees - and visual "noise" have always made me uncomfortable. I've always tried to be very present to my experiences - the breeze's caress, the warmth of sun, the scent of rain - and perhaps this has increased my sensory sensitivity. I seem to reach a point of sensory overload more quickly than most folks for some reason. I figure it's just the way I'm wired. I'm aware of this, but not much bothered by it any more. It's part of who I am here.

This sensitivity spans a gamut of things. I prefer small gatherings of a few friends instead of a large, raucous party, music blaring, people everywhere. I love to talk and laugh and share jokes in the comfort of an intimate group of people.

I am utterly, cat-purringly content being home with just the sound of the water running in the fountain outside my window, down in the courtyard, as it is right now.

I have no desire to visit New York City. A lot of visual noise of tall buildings blocking the light. I imagine a lot of audible noise as well. Too busy. Too much sensory input.

I can't see the hidden picture in "Magic Eye" stereograms. Everyone else seems to be able to see the picture but me. All I see in them is a lot of busyness. I just can't filter out the visual noise in order to see the hidden picture.

This need for simple sensory experiences extends to my wardrobe, too; mostly solids with a few patterns in a couple of skirts.

Many bloggers make photo collages. I find it very difficult to see the images in the photo collages. (Maybe this is like the "Magic Eye" thing?) I think all of this has something to do with the way my mind processes the things my eyes see.

This need for quiet and calm extends to living spaces, too. Most people would look at the bedroom photo at left and just love the layers of extended wall, shelf, tufted headboard. I find it waaaay too busy for me. Disturbingly noisy. The shelf has too many disparate, unconnected items on it. The mirror, too much ornamentation, particularly when paired in the room with the sleekness of the white bench. Busy baroque clashes with clean-lined modern. It all feels too heavy behind the bed and too puny and underwhelming everywhere else. It lacks balance for me. Like I said, this is just the way my mind processes the input. I know a bunch of people totally love that bedroom.

When I remodeled my kitchen a few years ago, I removed two walls that separated the kitchen space from the living space. Now, I have an open downstairs with no interior walls (except the powder room and closet), completely open and uninterrupted from the front window to the back courtyard. I just love it like this! There's room to dance, to open my arms and spin, to throw down a yoga mat and do a few sun salutations. The breeze dances from the front to the back, tinkling the capiz shell chandelier as it moves through, creating music in my wide, open space.

Heavy and noisy, busy and fussy just don't resonate with me. I need space, I need openness. Wide, open spaces ... quiet and calm ... simple things ... less and less ... a lightness of being and less sensory noise. It's just the way I'm wired.

***********************************

ADDENDUM 9/23/08

As I said at the beginning of this post, I'm fascinated by the way each of us is so different in the kinds of things that we drawn to or that we respond to, and all your responses are just wonderful to read. A friend e-mailed me that she is much more comfy in a sunlight-dappled forest; the open sea would intimidate her. If I was in a sunlight-dappled forest, I'd be looking for the nearest widest opening of sunshine - LOL! One of my most memorable experiences of my life is one morning on a cruise when I sat out on a side deck for breakfast all by myself gazing out at the vastness of the open ocean. I love the way we're each wired so differently! No matter your personal preferences - or your politics, since the election is nearing - our differences can be celebrated and enjoyed.

Namaste (The Divine in me recognizes and honors the Divine in you.)

once upon a time, there was a verrrrrry ugly staircase ...

Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.

- William Morris

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Well, my old staircase was certainly useful, but was the ugliest thing about my home. I had carpet on my wall. Sage green carpet making its zig-zaggy way down my wall. Whenever I watched TV, I'd sit and look at the carpet on my wall. Zig. Zag. Green. And on my wall.

And the handrail; it looked like an exterior metal garden rail, not something you'd put in a home. Carpet on my wall and a garden rail. Sigh ...

So, it took me 10 years but I saved up and finally had the staircase re-done! White skirtboard, white risers, white, square balusters. Maple treads, handrails and newel post all stained a rich walnut. Oh, my! I love my new staircase.

There's wider tread space now, too. The previous garden rail was set in about 3 inches from the outer edge of the step, so there was 3 inches of tread space that wasn't usable. I had the stair guys (who did fantastic work) move the balusters out to the very edge of the treads, so the steps are much wider now. The handrail no longer goes all the way to the top step because of this change, but it's so much better to have a wider staircase to me even if it means one handrail ends at the lower ceiling height.

It's late, so I'll just let you see some pics now. My blog isn't a photo or decor blog (I have no talent in either), so set your expectations accordingly. [smile]



Before: The carpet-on-the-wall, garden rail staircase before:


After: The beautiful wood staircase:


Before: Words fail me. Ugh!



After: Beautiful now, and even more useful with a wider step.

shifts and changes ... part II

Around the end of July, I could already sense that there were shifts directly ahead in my life. Something in the air, in my spirit ... do you know the feeling? A sense of anticpation, a whiff of change, a slight thrill of expectation.

I'd felt a job change was imminent; I was working long days, accomplishing a lot, and although I loved the internal customers on whose behalf I worked, things just felt "off", out of alignment. Change came on August 13 when my position was eliminated and I was laid off. Change happens and we either chafe at it and shake our fists at the sky or we embrace it and see it as an opportunity. I'm a bit of a Polyanna ("Let's play the Glad Game!"), so I was actually excited to see what new opportunity lay ahead for me for the next phase of my career.

I really want to get back into Web/Interactive management; I find it so creative and challenging and I know the work so well. I am passionate about the customer experience and marketing results: how people interact with online media, how they make the choices they make as they use a Web site, is the information organized well? is the interface optimized for superior performance? are the buttons placed logically in a way most users have learned? are there any copy errors? (As a copywriter/editor, copy errors are a big pet peeve of mine. If a web site can't get something as simple as spelling correct, it impacts users' perceptions about the rest of the company and their product.)

There's another shift coming along: my daughter and son-in-law have bought their first home. Instead of being just 12 minutes from me, they'll soon be an hour away. Currently, I go visit with them and my granddaughters (mostly my granddaughters) every Tuesday. On Fridays, I take my granddaughters to dinner and we hang out afterward. On Sundays, it's church or breakfast. Things will be changing, but we'll find a way to still make the most of our time together. The new house is big and wonderful and move-in ready. Plus, it's an incredible buy and has stunning views of the lake and the mountains. I was close to tears with happiness for my daughter and her famly when we went to the new home for the inspection on Saturday. Their first home! Another shift for all of us ...

And now, the world itself is shifting, shifting into fall. What a wonderful time! After the excitement and activity of the summer, we pause and breathe, slowing down as nature adjusts her tempo and we take notice of the changing temperatures, the changing light. I have crystals hanging in my living room window (another Polyanna idea!). When fall comes and the sun shifts down toward the equator instead of being directly overhead, the rays hit the prisms and rainbows dance all over my living floor and walls. When the girls were younger, I'd tell them the rainbows were angels come to play. "Look, Nana! There's an angel on your arm!" they'd laugh delightedly. The sun also comes through the narrow sidelight in my entry, casting an eerie, comforting light in the entry area. Change is in the air. Do you feel it?