Fall In!

This summer was a hot one.  If I remember correctly we went from the wet, cool days of early spring right into three digit temps, nothing gradual about it.  At first, I sighed with relief as I threw those fuzzy boots to the back of my closet, slipped on my coveted flip flops and pulled my hair into a ponytail.  But after many months of this sweaty, oppressive heat, we are finally feeling some relief and I couldn't be happier.  Mid-September, how I've longed for you!  

My favorite time of year is on its way my friends.  And with the arrival of Autumn comes those glorious colors, like a brand new 64-pack of Crayola crayons.  While Mother Nature makes her changes, I'll make a few of my own. Starting with my closet:  I'll cram flip flops, summer sandals and open-toe heels into the back and bring forth the shoes of Fall:  Hello, Boots!  The tall, black leather heeled ones, the brown suede mid-calf, oh... my furry uggs, how I've missed you!  I'll line them all up right in front, little soldiers standing at attention for their turn to step out.  Then I'll move up to the hangers, sliding halter tops, tanks and sleeveless blouses to the far side, and bring forward the hoodies, long sleeve tees and soft sweaters and cardigans. 

While Mother Nature is blowing in cooler temps, I'll throw open the windows.  And as she puts a slight haze over the strong, summer sun, I'll switch my bottle of white wine for red.

But I digress.  I'm so looking forward to cooler temps, comfortable days, and cozy nights in front of a fire.  Okay, okay.  I've got this grandiose image of myself in a long, soft sweater, leggings and furry boots, curled up in front of a fire with a pumpkin spice latte and a good book (or maybe a glass of Cabernet and the two-part finale of Sex and the City).  And I realize, Autumn also brings some not-so-fabulous reality...

Like  the sneezing, coughing and itchy eyes of fall allergies.  And while watching the trees turn from green to bright copper and gold really is beautiful, those leaves will eventually turn brown and fall slowly, deliberately to the ground where I will be forced to undertake the back-breaking labor of raking said leaves into humongous piles.  But, oh, those piles are fun to jump in if you're 7 years old!  And I'm sure there'll be some great photo ops there.

The simple truth is, Mother Nature's not going anywhere.  And every few months she throws us a curve ball - no avoiding the seasons if you're in the Lou, that's for sure.  So, enjoy every day, every season, everything she throws at you, because believe it or not, it won’t last forever...Case in point: At the end of a very long, miserable winter a few years ago, I wrote about my burning desire for a spring thaw, here.

Happy Autumn!  What's your favorite season?

8 Months and Counting

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to visit Paris.  I can't remember exactly when the desire hit me, although I think it was the first time I saw the movie "Sabrina."

 You know, the one with Julia Ormond, Harrison Ford and Greg Kinnear?  Sabrina (Ormond) has a terrible crush on Ford's younger brother, played by Kinnear.  She is a bit of an ugly duckling - a wallflower, but spends a summer in France finding herself, growing up, and comes back completely changed.  Beautiful, confident.  When the movie came out in 1995, I was 23 years old.  A newlywed who, by all appearances, was all grown up.  But maybe it was this desire to be transformed myself that began my love affair with the city of lights.

Ten years later, in 2005, I finally realized my goal of earning my writing degree.  And once I'd checked that off my bucket list, I started thinking of other dreams and goals, started believing that I could achieve those, too.  Being a published writer was one of them.  I was published online for the first in 2007.  On a whim, I went down to the post office one day at work, and applied for a passport.  It arrived a few weeks later, and I stowed it in my night stand drawer.


Over the next few years, I'd come across it as I searched for other things or attempted to clean out drawers and "get organized."  I'd always put it right back in its place, under my journals and homemade Mother's Day cards from years past.  2009 brought my first publication in a regional print magazine.  And 2010 saw my first of several essays published in national anthologies.

So, while these dreams of mine were beginning to come true, this trip to Paris was stored away in the back of my mind.  A few years ago, I decided that I would take that trip by the time I was 40.  Well, I turned 40 in July, and thought, okay, I've got 12 months...

A few weeks ago, I found out that I will get to make that dream a reality.  On May 1, 2013 (2 1/2 months before my 41st birthday), I'll be going to Paris.  I've already checked the weather for that time of year (upper 50s is the norm), checked out advise on what and how to pack, and scoured the Taulk Tours website to learn more about this "Taste of France" River Cruise on which I'll spend the majority of the trip.

But I digress.  Until then, I'll be counting down the months, weeks and days until I depart.  And maybe even give thought to other dreams...  I've always wanted to visit Ireland.  Drink beer in a little pub while the fog swirls outside.  And I've always wanted to write my own book, walk into some little out-of-the-way bookstore and see my name on the cover of a paperback.  No sense in thinking that can't happen.  Of course it can.  

What's on your bucket list?  And what one dream or goal have you achieved that you weren't sure would ever come true?

Summertime Memories OR 1 Bourbon, 1 Scotch & 1 Beer...

Now that summer's over (at least as it pertains to being out of school), I thought I'd take a few minutes to reminisce about the past few months.  Those carefree, lazy days of sipping cold lemonade... okay, okay, who am I kidding?  All of you working parents out there know as well as I do that those Country Time Lemonade commericials, while sweetly nostalgic, are for the most part a load of... fantasy.  We still have to go into the office everyday even when our kids throw their backpacks to the bottom of the stairs, stay up late and sleep in later.  We've got to hire sitters, plan camps, juggle carpools and hope for the best.

But I digress.  Despite the added stress, and screaming hot temperatures these last few months have given us, hopefully you've all made a few summer memories to take with you into the cooler, homework-laden days ahead.  Which brings me back to the liquor that titles this blog post.  One Bourbon. One Scotch. And One Beer (you know the tune).  It's how I describe one of my favorite weekend memories from this summer.  Okay, not all three.  But the bourbon's true enough....

Family friends, floating, swimming, dancing, talking, laughing.  What a fantastic weekend!  I headed down to our family lake house on a Saturday morning to visit with dear friends (family, really) from Atlanta.  We climbed aboard the boat and made our way to the middle of the lake, dropped anchor and jumped in to cool off and splash around.  When I realized I forgot the rafts I'd wanted to lie on, my cousin Maren and I decided we could swim all the way back to the house to get them.  It was about a mile, so we took along a life jacket, just in case.  We made it to the house, climbed out among the muck, mud and seaweed at the dock and ran all the way up the steep steps to the house to grab the rafts (still in their package).  Ran back down the steps, untied one of the kayaks and jumped in, the two of us trying to row, our legs hanging over the side.  Each attempt had us floating in circles, it took us about a 1/4 mile to figure out how to work as a team, "left, right, left, left!" we'd yell, trying to stay in sync, and then we'd dissolve in a fit of laughter that had us turning in another wide circle.  Neither one of us is ever going to make a rowing team, that's for sure.  But I'm thinking we could make an olympic swimming team - we made record time!

That night, we headed down to the stables for an outdoor motown concert.  Hundreds of people hanging out on blankets or in lawn chairs.  As the sun set, and the stars hung low overhead, the music heated up and people left their seats to join the throngs of dancers around the stage.  When the first notes of "My Girl" began, my dad took my hand and we danced. My dad is still my favorite person to slow dance with.  Then Carmen and I moved a few chairs and danced right at our seats to all the oldies. I had a crowd doing the "sprinkler" the "grocery cart" and the "lawn mower" ... at one point we were laughing so hard we fell to the ground (although I think the wine may have had something to do with that).

"So what about the bourbon," you ask?  Ah, well, that came later.  With the cigar.









Your Turn: What's one of your favorite memories from this summer? 

Raising Jackson: School Days and Consequences

It's that time of year again.  Sharpened pencils, pristine notebooks, folders and books with not so much as a crease.  Growing up, I loved this time of year.  Still do.  But with Jack, I know the change isn't easy.  Summers are much more calm around our house.  There are less demands on his time, fewer rules, not as much responsibility.  So, when school starts, and suddenly he's got to get to bed on time, wake up on time, get homework done...well, it's not an easy transition.


Here's a question for ya:  How long does it take to get the first call from a teacher?
Answer: ummm... about 6 hours

Yep, I got a call on the very first day.  This is not to say that Jack is a bad kid.  Quite to the contrary.  He's incredibly dynamic: kind, funny, outgoing, laid back, loves to laugh, stands up for those who can't (or don't) stand up for themselves.  He just doesn't like to be told what to do.  But, hey, that's life, right?  Best get used to it, kid.  I know, I know... but it's not as simple as it sounds.  According to his teacher, Jack was "wound up" in her class that first afternoon.  Unfocused, and distracted the entire class.  For the entire hour.  Hmmm....

When Jack got home after school, I asked him how his day went.  "Fine," (oh, I can just see all you parents nodding your heads right now - you get the same answer, right?).  Jack said "fine" the day a kid pushed him on the bus.  He said "fine" the day he stepped in and protected a classmate from a group of girls who had surrounded her and were teasing and pushing her.
But, as parents, we need to ask deeper questions.  Or ask them in a different way.  I happened to ask Jack that day what he had for lunch.  "Nothing, I wasn't hungry," he shrugged at me.  Hmmm... You ate nothing? I asked.  "Well, I had a Gatorade."  Ah.  Gatorade.  So, he'd had about 14 grams of sugar on an empty stomach. No wonder he was hyper in his afternoon class.

Ask your kids: How have you taken care of yourself today?  If we can teach them to take a look back at their day, evaluate it a little, maybe they will begin to see how their actions affect them in other areas.

But I digress.  It was a rough first couple week.  Jack was quick to anger.  Couldn't find half his uniform for his first outdoor soccer game of the season.  Was so angry that he took a hockey stick to the white, six panel door of his bedroom.  Oh yes, he did.  So... I did what any good parent would do... I removed the door.  I also had his cell phone turned off.  The next day, he punched a hole in the wall of my office.  My first thought was:  I hope he's not getting sick (he used to get like this right before he came down with a flu).  The thought entered and exited my mind within seconds.  The next morning, he started throwing up.  See?  There is usually a cause for their actions.  Doesn't make them right, but it helps to know there is a reason.

Jack will get his phone back when he's purchased the materials and fixed the hole in the wall.  He's planning on doing that after school today.  This punishment is two fold:
1. It fits the crime.
And B. He'll learn how to fix drywall - a good skill for anyone to learn, I think.

Your turn: Please share, won't you? How have you learned to read into your kids' behaviors? And what lessons do you use to teach them?

Everyone's a writer

Stop with me for a moment and look at the all the channels (beyond in-person, of course) we have at our disposal in which to communicate with one another: facebook, twitter, linkedin, foursquare, email, youtube, a phone call, a text, face time, skype, even letters written and sent via snail mail (a lost art, for sure).

With the advent of social media and especially blogs, everyone's a writer.  Everyone has a voice.  I guess that's a good thing.  But you wouldn't become a doctor just because someone gave you an office in which to practice, would you?  You'd need the right experience, the right training, the correct tools.  And even if you do have the latest, greatest tools, you'd have to know the correct way in which to use them, right?  Right.

Companies need writers.  Brands need writers.  Newspapers, magazines, ad agencies... they all need writers.  Which is why authors have editors.  To correct grammar, check spelling and ensure they  "write tight."  Not everyone is a writer, for sure.  But, if you're going to rely on the written form of communication, keep in mind two things:

1. People think/read/see/hear differently.
Case in point: a professor wrote the following sentence on the board:
"Woman without her man is nothing" and asked his class to punctuate it.
Half the class wrote this:
Woman: without her, man is nothing.

The other half wrote:
Woman, without her man, is nothing.

See?

And #2. Grammatical faux pas can create major misunderstandings...

Hmmm....

But I digress. Communication is vital.  To relationships. To business. To life. Not everyone is blessed with this ability.  Some excel at verbal communication, some at written, and still others speak volumes with their body language.  But I do believe that most (not all, most) problems are the result of poor communication.  Maybe it's Mars vs. Venus.  Maybe it's just lost in translation.  But if we can realize that, and learn to work with it, instead of fighting it, maybe there'd be a lot fewer fights in the first place.  More understanding.  And that's cool, no?

Happy Writing!