"You're Outta the Woods, You're Outta the Dark"

Isn't that a great lyric? It is from the Wizard of Oz. For the first time in what seems like months, I feel like the dark and heavy cloud that has been casting a big shadow over my spirit has finally lifted. Perhaps that feeling is an illusion and its really so damned dark it seems lit from behind. But I am hopeful. Maybe its the promise of spring, maybe its the new diet. Whatever the cause I am hopeful and quite frankly relieved. That giant sigh of relief you just heard came from me.

And I am Not Even Dutch!!

I love a clean house!! I love it when it is first cleaned and smells like lemon Pine sol, lemon oil and bleach! My very sweet and thorough housekeeper and I worked together all day today to do a mindful and deep clean. I loved how we were able to talk but not once did either one of us stop to talk. We worked and talked. Deep cleaning the house was exhausting but important for me. Working or creating in a dirty, cluttered or neglected space feels like I have been handed a used palette and have been charged with creating something using this crusty, already used palette. I much prefer a clean slate. For me, deep cleaning is almost like a form of meditation. I cleaned out the fridge, the oven, I vacuumed out cabinets and cleaned switch plate covers. We scrubbed, polished, dusted, vacuumed and swept everything, and I feel like I can accomplish something now. I no longer have that grumpy, grumbling feeling that there are things I need to do....they are done! Hooray. Now I can move outside and start working on the gardens.....

Pet Peeve Number Three

Perhaps I have not been successful, but I have tried not to be too inflexible with my views or to allow my opinions to box me and others in; however, tonight I ran headfirst into one of my primary pet peeves. Someone remarked that they were bored. Ever since I was a little girl, when I had moments of empty space where I wasn't sure of my next move, it never occurred to me that those swaths of emptiness were boredom. I have always thought of those moments as opportunities to create something, read something, write someone or just have a goofy and free experience. When someone declares that they are bored, I find it insulting that in a world that offers as many possibilities as ours does, that we can find nothing interesting to occupy our minds or bodies. Is it really boredom or is it the inability to be comfortable with time on our hands? It seems to me that moments of restlessness or not knowing what to do is where our imaginations and our motivation will help us feel a sense of purpose and relevance. Isn't it okay to do absolutely nothing and feel uncomfortable between events? But the proclamation: "I am bored" makes it seem as though something has to be happening to amuse or entertain us. I hear "I am bored" most often from the children we serve. I think that they get "bored" because their worlds move at lightening speed or at least as fast as their thumbs on their Game boys. I hope I can teach at least one child that a slow, lazy, unplanned day is a opportunity that challenges us to be creative and resourceful.

Unsolicited Advice to the Young

To my young friends:

Do not be too critical of your thighs,

stomach, feet, arms or face.

Enjoy your hair; color it, flip it, cut it, curl it, touch it often.

Appreciate your neck. Notice how firm it is and how it doesn't move when the wind blows.

Even if you think your belly is too big, too saggy, too tanned whatever, admire it.

Something strange is going to happen. You will wake up one day in your mid forties and you will look at your neck and you will realize that once upon a time your neck was firm and gorgeous and you didn't appreciate it. You will see your butt in the mirror and it will be lower and the skin a little looser. When it sat up high and you could squeeze into a size six you really were not as fat as you knew you were.

Your chin will sprout hairs that you will be forced to pluck for the rest of your life and your creases will have creases. If you are under 30, repeat after me: "I am beautiful right now." "My skin is flawless." "My thighs are fabulous and I can see daylight between them." Don't squander your youth believing your body has betrayed you. Notice the things that are cute, perfect, wonderful and wrinkle free. Trust me on this.

Dog Tired

I have three. And a cat. Don't get me wrong, I love the furry ones. I vacuum wads of dog hair weekly and probably ingest a quarter of a pound of dog hair a year. My car windows are decorated with dog lick and nose prints and I don't own a black or navy coat without a few thousand dog and cat hairs. But it is the high pitched, maniacal, Cujo like barking that happens when the girls spot a squirrel, a chipmunk, a bird or a neighbor walking a dog. It is like being in a boat cruising along and suddenly having a giant freezing cold 40 foot wave toss your boat like salad. That is how disruptive it feels. I love the dogs, I hate the incessant barking. No amount of "NO" or bribing them with carrots or squirting them with water deters them once they have seen the enemy. Lordy. My kingdom for some peace and quiet.

The Devil REALLY is in the Details!

So here it is the 24th of March and I am still screwing around with my taxes. Here is how my conversation went with my tax preparer earlier today: "I need what? Didn't I send that already? Oh, I paid around 100 bucks in personal taxes last year. Oh, didn't I send that? No, I don't have a new car. There's nothing wrong with the car I have unless you consider dog hair and chewing gum a hazard. How much I paid in what? Am I healthy? Yes, unless you consider the high blood pressure I have at this moment a health deficit. I don't know how much I paid in health insurance premiums. Around 100 bucks a month." I am a BIG picture person. I deal in giant swaths of thought and like to plan and envision the big picture. How many pixels it takes is irrelevant to me. This is what I think hell is. Me, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, in a poorly lit office that is 40 degrees too cold, trying to fill out the long tax form with a dull pencil!!!! AAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Gas Versus Charcoal

There are some things I am absolutely confident about and some things about which I am hopelessly disinterested in or clueless. With regards to the former, I am absolutely certain that the charcoal grill produces better tasting meat. The charcoal grill is a package deal: the fragrant smoke, the glowing charcoals, the searing meat, chicken, crisp on the outside, moist and juicy on the inside. Gas doesn't do all of that. It is so tidy, so stainless steel and so smokeless! I did an experiment last night- I grilled this spicy, garlicky, cashew chicken on the Weber and I did some in the oven in the broiler. Hands down, the Weber rocked. The chicken had that smoky, outdoorsy taste and it was kissed by fire! Granted the grill was red hot, and the chicken was cooking really fast, and I had to play musical chicken and keep ahead of the flame; but I did it! The chicken was great. Yep, charcoal gets my vote!

An Epiphany Before Noon

Have you ever been asked to answer this question: "If you could do anything other than what you are currently doing, what would it be?" I love that question! It's a little like the: "What would you do if you won the lottery?" question. It just so happens that I have an answer to the first question: If I could do anything, I would write Op-Ed pieces for some literary tome that appeals to the people that wear smart and yet beautiful shoes and own hybrid cars. The question asked nothing about what you would do that would earn money. I would love to be evolved enough that the money didn't matter. Oh, no really, keep my salary, I will just work for food and utilities and I will feel completely actualized. I am a little too materialistic for that. I love the idea of writing for a living. Composing prose on my lime green Apple notebook in a contemporary loft in Soho. I'd linger in Anarchist coffee shops, wear Cashmere Muu-Muu's and smoke clove cigarettes. My fantasy life is a beautiful place.

Patience Is A Virtue- For Someone Else

Impatient and middle aged. Not a great combo. I went to Lowes to return the three five gallon water jugs that had been rolling around in my trunk for about a month. I didn't have a lot of time, so I grabbed the jugs, my pocket book and raced into the Lowes. I grabbed the spray can of polyurethane I had been asked to pick up and went to wait in line. The clerk looks at the three empty five gallon jugs and says: "you can take those outside to the water bottle return area." I said: "oh, this is new." The clerk explained that this had been the procedure as long as she had been there. I did not argue with her. But I knew she had only been there a week or two since I had never been told about this procedure in the past. So I paid for the spray paint and rolled my jugs out to the high tech return center. I pushed the bottles one at a time through foam rubber tube and watched my jugs hit the concrete floor of the fenced in area. I waited for the electronic ticket to zoom out of the ticket retrieval slot. I waited. I kept waiting. No ticket. I wheeled my cart back into the Lowes and asked the return guy to tell me what now since the plan failed. He said: "oh, you can return those to the cashier and she can credit you." So I wheeled my cart back to the clerk and said: "The machine is not working." I stood there and waited while she looked for the bar code in her bar code book. Of course, the bar code was not in there. So the very pregnant clerk who had been watching this whole exchange waddles over with her code book and together, they figured it out. I figure things like this happen to me because I am the most impatient person in the universe and I need to learn patience. I guess I need to keep learning 'cause it didn't get any better today.

We Love You Oprah!

While waiting patiently in line at the grocery store for the clerk to return to her lane, I amused myself by reading the headlines of the weeklies: Tom Forces Katie to Cleanse and Fast! (I wondered if it worked!) My favorite was on the cover of Woman's World: "Read Oprah's Weight Loss Plan!" Wait a second! Oprah's weight loss plan isn't working for Oprah and you want me to buy the whole magazine for a plan that doesn't work? Come to think of it, my weight loss isn't working either. A six pack of Peeps, a bag of Jelly Beans and an eight pack of chocolate covered marshmallow bunnies is not on anybodies diet plan. Let's leave Oprah alone. Clearly Oprah is smart, successful, funny, insightful and wildly popular. So she's a size 14. So what? My ass is big too and we all know that a fat rear end doesn't cause heart disease. I really do feel for Oprah. It appears that she has a lot of shame about how she looks and really, to me, she looks beautiful. It is not a myth that black men would knock Holly Hunter over to get to a full figured woman. So I say Oprah, throw open the door and feel the love!!

Spring Awakening

I am so excited. So two weeks ago I got an email from the florist I frequent for arrangements and head pieces etc.... the email was announcing a spring wreath making workshop. I was giddy with the possibilities. When I got there, we were told to shop around and find the materials we wanted to use on our wreaths. Of course I grabbed a big bunch of hydrangeas, purple irises, pink cosmos and giant white snow drops. I found a big yellow ribbon with polka dots and all but did a little tap dance and then I looked around the room and all of the ladies were moving in the same creative direction. So I gathered up my finds, marched them over to the counter, deposited them and started over. My goal was something organic, something you might actually see in my yard and VIOLA!! Two hours and only one serious burn later, I had created: "Springtime in the Woods." All I need in life is a little moss, a hot glue gun and some fern. I told them to sign me up for the Christmas wreath class.

Hakuna Matata

One of my friends asked me today if Mercury was in retrograde. To my knowledge it is not, but there is sure a lot of, well, let's just call it cosmic crap swirling around out there in everybody's solar system. I don't know many people right now who aren't dealing with infidelity, disability, death, looming bankruptcy, or some really heavy shit. (Sorry, but it does fit there don't you agree?) What I wonder, is how people keep moving forward in the face of it all. How do you go to work, put on a happy face and deal with customers, deadlines, investors, grants and employees? I remember at different difficult times in my life my work really seemed to suffer. Thank goodness I didn't have children or dependents. I can't imagine. I guess the best outlook is: "stick together, eat well and remember this is temporary, it's how we handle it that is permanent."

What's the Goofiest Thing You Have Done Lately?

Well, I went for a long walk tonight and when I arrived back home, I realized I had picked up the wrong set of house keys. So I had no choice but to wait until Elaine got home. So, I sat outside (thank goodness it had stopped raining) and talked on the phone. That was actually not such a bad outcome. The problem was the temperature. It was chilly for me even though I had on several layers and my rain coat. So I did what any clever human would do. I took off my clothes and got in the hot tub. I kept thinking Elaine would be home at any minute, and of course on this particular night, her meeting ran long. I had these visions of the paramedics fishing me out- a wrinkled, steamy mess with crazy hair. Clearly that didn't happen. My lesson? Leave a key somewhere.

He Said What?

As I have gotten older, there are now only two things that make me feel better. Food and laughter. If cigarettes and booze made me feel as good as I do when I am howling in laughter, I'd be chain smoking with a double right now. Food is a close second, but laughter is definitely numero uno. When I really need to laugh with absolute abandon, I rent a Chris Rock or Wanda Sykes video. Chris says things we all think but won't or don't know how to say. I like Chris because he drops the F bomb like pigeon's crapping at a bread distribution center. When I drop the F bomb, some of my friends tut and slip me a dictionary for Christmas. I have a good vocabulary, but nothing embellishes an emotion like a big fat curse word. When you can string them together and do something creative like alliteration, you are a genius! I imagine that when I am a very old woman, and have forgotten most of my language, I will remember how to curse: "You forgot the F'n Metamucil. Again."

The Kindness of Strangers

Like your jobs, there are aspects of my job that are very challenging and always require that I come to the table with inspired and strategic thinking. The challenge that I have right now is that in this economy and with so many people out there rummaging through the pockets of honest and hardworking people, and leaving nothing but empty promises, I still have to raise significant funds to create daily, structured and well thought out opportunities for children who may not have many opportunities to be inspired, encouraged or motivated to try an unknown and seemingly more difficult path. My private joke is that I run an organization on gifts. Imagine it. You have to maintain infrastructure, credibility, run programs and meet payroll, based on money given to you by others in an economy headed for the intensive care unit. It is tough and I don't think easier times are ahead. My biggest fear is that I won't be able to deliver on my promise to children whose lives are filled with broken promises and dead ends.

Birds of a Feather

So have I mentioned the birds and butterflies I saw in Costa Rica? It really was amazing. The birds were stunning. My days in Costa Rica started like this: I would wake up around 6:30, put on my bathing suit, slather up with coconut oil, no SPF, and grab my binoculars and flop down on a lounger. I would spot parrots, kiskadees, humingbirds, magnificent frigatebirds, pelicans, and Hoffman's woodpeckers all from my oily perch. It really was splendid. I love seeing the birds. When I was in the stinging forest (see earlier blog) I saw toucans, great morph butterflies and scores of other brightly colored birds. It really was a visual feast. Now, back in zone 5, I think back on the tropical birds and am truly honored I was there. I will absolutely return to Costa Rica.

Road Rage

So what is it about people in their cars who get so very angry about minor traffic errors, and who appear like they could kill you because you forgot to signal or because you don't move fast enough or whatever? I'm just glad they aren't packing heat. I was in the wrong lane on Forest Park Parkway and needed to go South not North and had to change lanes. I signaled and waited for someone to let me in. The man in front of me was honking and yelling and cursing me to high heaven and I just wanted to break out and sing that Coca-Cola song about teaching the world to sing to him. If he had a gun, I know he would have opened fire. I say try yoga. Wow. Be careful out there. Duck.

I Don't Blame Peter Pan!

Decisions, decisions, decisions,
Some can be made real quick
and some can make you sick
some can make you wish you had other options from which to pick!

Vacations: Good for the Spirit, Bad for the Skin

So I am in Costa Rica, and I had hired a guide to take me through a private wildlife reserve. I was overwhelmed with the sights: Toucans, Mot mots, Kiskadees and Giant Morph butterflies. My guide led me to a waterfall, and of course I felt compelled to swim and thus washed off all of the Deet I had slathered on before I left. For the next hour and a half we hiked up to the lodge and little open air school where lunch was waiting for me. Mary, our cook, had hiked in earlier that morning following the reserve attendant while he guided a horse in laden with beans, rice, avocados, chicken and squash. After lunch we hiked up to a look out which offered a stunning view, but on the way up I felt something pricking me, I was confused by it- at first I thought I had crashed into thorns. But as the stinging continued, I realized that I was under attack. I yelled for Louis and told him that something was on me. He turned around and advised me to: "RUN!" So I was stung twice on the face and once on the hand. For the first three days the bridge of my nose dissolved into my eyes and I looked like Joe Lewis. Nice. But you know what? I wouldn't trade the day for anything. Maybe I will get some superpowers from my sting...