Author: Lynn Monahan

Early in life I learned to keep my thoughts to myself.  Funny since now I document a lot of them for the world to judge me on.  I mean really, that is ironic.  But in my earlier life, I kept things to myself because without fail I would have been made fun of, to have feelings of any kind was pretty much viewed as being ridiculous or overly dramatic in my family.  And then later in life people would just consider me “crazy” – because I think out of the box. I’m a dreamer.  But this upbringing is not unusual.  Apparently, my parents didn’t want drama, and so I just learned to bury everything.. Not EVERYthing, but a fair amount.

And then one day you’re in a college class, when you are in your mid 40’s and the subject comes up about this feeling that comes over you when your kids leave home and go to college and you have started to enter the empty nester stage.  And then you have this epiphany when this other woman is sharing your same feelings that “wait, this is kinda normal?” At that point in my life I really thought I was having a nervous breakdown.  My oldest son had just left for college.  I still had a little one at home (little-ish) but Zach, my oldest, had been my rock, sort of my compass.  YES I KNOW!  This is a terrible thing to do to your child.  But I was a baby when I had him, and the parenting books were not yet caught up with the single mom issue being main stream so you do what you do.  I know now, but at the time he was just so wise and calming to me while I struggled with just life in general and then he was gone and as most college kids do, he did not return calls…like ever.  It was a hellish time.  A terrible transition.  I was surely losing my mind and in my mind I was totally alone and no one would understand.

And then this class, full of middle age woman, like me, are all shaking their heads in agreement when this other mother shared what she was going through.  I remember the shock of realizing I was not alone.  I don’t know if I can properly express what that moment meant to me.  How many other life experiences have I gone through that I thought I was crazy for feeling like I was feeling?  Feeling alone.

This blog, started in Florida in 2014, when I was going through yet another transition, based on a melt-down of sorts, but I kept the finallyflorida blog upbeat and stayed away from the drama and the reality of what was going on until the “big reveal” when I shared that it was not so rosy and I left that situation.  There was so much drama in that last year with him, but I just assumed no one wants to hear it.  Keep it to myself and focus on the positives.  I don’t know that I was wrong to do that.  But I will tell you my hair dresser down there thought I was an effing loon.  I did some not so healthy dumping on this stranger who just wanted to cut my hair and get a tip.  I think the lesson there is know your audience. But she was good at listening.  And I’m sure every hair dresser will tell you that this is a normal part of their job.  Getting dumped on by miserable housewives. (am I right?)

 I was reminded today of the importance of friends, friends that listen, and friends that care. And I am reminded we are not alone and sharing is caring.  (is that a t-shirt or bumper sticker?) And it’s Friday and blog day so what better subject to blog about?

I am at an age where another life transition is getting ready to occur (retirement) and I am struggling with myself. I am certain I have to figure this out myself.  But do I? What has experience taught me?  And what did Jennifer remind me of just this morning? We do not live in a bubble.  We live in a community of friends and people who can help us through fun and not so fun times.  We are all individuals but we are not that unique that someone else that we know hasn’t gone through a similar time.

But Big Reveals can be fun too!!

LOL.

Ok that’s it for today. 

Lunch break is over. I am so over it.

One of the advantages of getting older is all the memories that flood your mind.  Well, my mind anyway.  I know on this blog of mine it is often nostalgia that is the subject.  And, well, true to form I think this is going there as well.

I just returned from California visiting my brother and sister-in-law. I booked those flights last fall and after that I bought shoes for the trip (which didn’t make the cut in the end) I got a new suitcase, I looked forward to that week off for months, I packed and repacked (and still did not take the right things) and then just like that, it’s over.  It’s over!! Like how? What happened?  All that planning and packing and here I am, back on my chair in Pittsburgh, wondering if I will ever catch up on my sleep and when I’m going to put in my 2-week notice.  Okay that last thing is just preparation for that eventual event.  No date on that yet. So anyway, I just was thinking of time and how we have memories that are so intangible and are only these thoughts in our heads, and with family the memories go back to the beginning of our life on earth.  Literally. And then my brother pulled out a box that he has from our grandparents’ house and there are MORE gone memories of people/ancestors we never knew, long gone before we came into existence.  But they lived, whole, very long lives.  My great grandfather was born in 1825.  Now how many people can say that?  He’s only one great.  Not like great-great-great.  Know what I mean?  I mean only one great.  That’s crazy.  Of course, I didn’t know him, but he was my granddad’s father and I did know my grandad. All of these lives have been lived. And although I’m still living (last I checked) I mean so much has gone before.  And now it’s just gone.

There is a Stephen King movie called the Langoliers.  I’m not normally a Stephen King fan but this one I got hooked on back in 1995.  I used to tease my Zachary (who was then about 8 years old) and tell him if he misbehaved the Langoliers would get him.  LOL. Poor kid. Well anyway, the Langoliers eat time. They eat the past. At least that’s my memory of the movie plot.  But really there is nothing to eat. That past is just an idea of something.  It’s gone.  It’s just gone.

I know this is a deep subject.  But as I was returning home, from this trip that I was so looking forward to and then the realization that it’s over I was like, what is up with this? I think, maybe, it was more pronounced this time, this vacation being over, because I don’t get out there to see my brother very often.  The last time was about 3 years ago and then before that probably more like 10 years.  Going to Florida on weekends is a repeat occurrence so even though leaving the sun to come back to the cold is not my favorite, I know that I will soon be back there so I don’t really need to hang onto the memories.  I just need to hang onto that tan!

I also went to my brother’s and sister in laws (Scott and Janis) gigs and I have always kidded him (but not really kidding) to play the song Shoes, Pants and Roses which is the song that his high school band, The Arizona Pearlies, played in high school.  Like in 1974.  For some reason that song has always stayed with me.  And by him playing it I am transported way back.  He started playing it at the one gig and I jumped up and screamed like the teenager I was in my mind and danced while everyone stared at me, because no one else knew what the song was or if I was having a seizure.  Later I thought about that moment of abandon and laughed to myself, grateful that no one knows me out there so didn’t really care about embarrassing myself.  I also tried to remember (that memory thing) where I might have been when I heard them play that song in the 70’s.  I remember a barn but that’s it.  I don’t even remember where they played.  But I remember that one song and I was transported.  That’s what memories do.  And songs in particular.  They transport you to a different time.  Most of the songs they played at their gigs were 70’s songs.  At least the songs that transported me.  Steely Dan, Crosby Stills, Nash and Young.  Lots of Steven Stills.  Lots of Miami memories there too.  But those days are gone.  The only thing left are the songs.

So that was my airplane ride. Deep in introspection, primarily because my connection was through Las Vegas and I lost $10 in under 1 second and didn’t want that $10 loss to turn into a $100 loss, and since I finished my book while at Scott’s I had nothing left other than my thoughts.  And that’s where I went.

Time.

My featured image, with this blog, is of my Great Aunt Roberta.  I knew her.  She lived long enough to crochet a blanket for my newborn baby Zachary in 1982.  She had the most beautiful face.  As I age and see all the Botox (especially in California), I think I would much rather have my Aunt Roberta’s face.  It’s beautiful.  And below is a photo of my great grandfather.  I did not know him since he was born in 1825 (can’t remember his death date).  But, there’s just something about his being just “one” great that makes me feel closer to him.

This man was my Aunt Roberta’s father (as well as my Granddad’s father).

These are photos I found in the box while visiting my brother. The box that was also a time machine transporting me back. There are lots of ways to be transported.

That is all.  My time is up for today.😊

xoxox

In an attempt to organize my life, and mostly help my memory, I’ve started scheduling reminders.  For instance, on my work calendar, every morning and every evening I have a reminder to “do it” and a link for a yoga video.  I NEVER do.  NEVER.  I also have a reminder on Fridays to “write a blog.”  If you would take the time to look through when I post you would be able to tell that I also rarely do it, but today, today, I thought what the heck.  Today is Christmas, Serbian (Orthodox) Christmas that is, and I’m feeling nostalgic.  And when I’m feeling nostalgic, I write, and cry.  Or as Zachary says “when don’t you cry.” Dam kids.

My first (and only) husband celebrated Serbian Christmas.  Which to most is known as Orthodox Christmas but to us it was (and is) Serbian Christmas.  Everyone would head over to Bubbi’s house, who lived with Aunt Dodo and Uncle Roddy. Bubbi was a million years old (it seemed at the time) and there would be her grandkids and then with Zachary’s generation great grandkids.  The photos show us all in the basement with the washer and dryer and furnaces and tables set up everywhere.  That’s the way it was done back in the day. Not a finished basement just in the basement with everything else. There would be a big table and some sort of bread that had a dime in it and it would be a big deal for whoever got the dime.  There would be kids running everywhere. The whole families were together.  Everyone came.

After Bubbi died, people stopped going to Aunt Dodo’s for Christmas day (the 7^th) and we started having the “day” at Grandmas (or as I called her Mrs. Kumer).  I think we do a lot for the matriarch.  Stay together, get together, like/tolerate each other, as long as the “mom” is living.  Then after the matriarch passes, each daughter becomes their own matriarch so each of Bubbi’s daughters became their own matriarch and had their own 7^th.  In the beginning those family get togethers are so important and so wonderful and then at some point you feel like it’s too much and then pare it down and then they fall apart and then you’re sad and look at photo albums and wax emotional remembering those days. I’m grateful for those photos and memories.

We divorced after 7 years and it’s been over 30 years since we divorced but I still keep my tree up until the 7^th.  I have it lit up just like I would on Christmas morning and I’m playing beautiful music.  I’ve sent Zachary his Mir Boziji text (although I screwed the first one up and said Merry Christmas in Serbian by mistake) But it’s Mir Boziji (may God bring you peace) and the response “Hristos se rodi” (the Christ has been born). 

Bubbi has long been gone, Mrs. Kumer and Aunt Dodo deceased now but their sister Aunt Violet is still living.  Michelle – who was my sister-in-law in those days –  just died a couple of weeks ago.  She had a condition with the name of Stoneman or Munchmeyer disease.  She managed that disease for 59 years and died from Covid in one day. Today I’m going to assume they are all on the other side breaking bread and seeing who is getting the dime.

I’ve spent most of this morning working..but also remembering my few years with the Kumers, participating in the traditions and perfecting how to say Mir Boziji.  I’m wondering if there is an alternate universe where we are all still together and what it would have been like had I stayed a Kumer. But then what about Jimmy?  That’s why you can’t go there in your head.  Although I can go there in my head and Jimmy would still be there too. It’s easy to romanticize what could have been.  I have perfected the art in my head of “what could have beens”.

I woke up this morning to what looked like I was living in a snowglobe.  Beautiful thick snowflakes everywhere swirling through the air. Grandma Kumer used to always say “it always snows on Serbian Christmas.” She is never wrong.

Mir Boziji

xoxo

I have work to do but what I “want” to do is sit here, eat cookies, and watch TV.  It’s my lunch time. So eating cookies I guess is understandable – lunch cookies.  I decided to not watch TV and turn on Christmas music, then spent way too much time trying to figure out why my ITunes wasn’t connecting with my Alexa speaker so had to reboot the computer several times.  It’s working now.  And all this just to take a break.  Life isn’t easy.  Oh and I have no cookies.  So there goes lunch.

Daytime TV isn’t what it used to be.  But then again, is anything what it used to be?  I used to love watching my soap midafternoon – The Guiding Light.  When I see actors and actresses from that show on other shows they are always that Guiding Light character to me.  That show was on for over 50 years and then just one day they decide to stop?  How can they do that to us?  I’m still mourning.

I’ve tried to get hooked on what comes on after the noon news.  The Young and the Restless and then the Bold and Beautiful.  I can’t get into them.  Sometimes I can hang with the Young and the Restless.  But why were these soaps picked over my soap to continue?  Maybe Roger just died way too many times?  Or Reva married too often?  Philip and Beth no longer have chemistry? I recently saw Rick have a very bit part on some nighttime show.  It was heartwarming to see an old friend.

Christmas is a time when I have memories too.  You know of Christmas’s past.  I had a girls Christmas Tea for a few years. Lucy Pursuit one year texted me that she missed my teas. Brought a tear to my eye.  I loved having those teas.  I vowed to have them forever.  I wanted to be like Mary Jane Williams and start this forever tradition.  I forget what tradition she had.  Lol. I think it was a Christmas party too. But then all this life happens and then everything falls apart.  As far as traditions go.  I’ve thought about renewing this particular tradition “Girls tea” – but Covid. If only we could live our lives in retrospect. I either would have never moved away from Fair Oaks or never moved there in the first place.  I can’t imagine not living there.  I also can’t imagine still living there.  Life is complicated, isn’t it?

Speaking of Covid, I read something the other day, somewhere, that said although the Scientists are doing their best, they could use some Prayer help.  I mean really, why not?  I think there is something planned for group prayer on Christmas Eve.  I’ll have to get more information and I’ll post it on here.  Because here’s the thing, if it doesn’t work, well, what’s the harm in trying?  We should all try everything we can.  I want to limit my mask wearing to robbing banks, or snow activities. I want Fauci to go back to someone that no one knows. And I only want to hear that Covid business referred to in sentences like “remember that Covid time?  Wasn’t that crazy?” Remember when? We are all living for that day. And we should all do whatever we can.  And prayer is something we can do so we should all do it. Doesn’t involve politics or vaccine mis-information. Just words in your head to a god you may or may not believe in.

Ok more on that later.  Or feel free to do it anyway, in the event I can never find the information.

Dear God, take care of this, will you?  Keep the work at home option, and thank you for that, but can we move on now, K? Love, me

I love Christmas.  Have I made that clear?  I love this time of year.  I love my decorations.  I even love Christmas shopping, except when I can’t find something.  I love giving and getting presents.  The best presents are not expensive.  I remember exactly two Christmas’s growing up. One where I got a Doll house (I hated Doll’s but I liked the house) and that same Christmas I got a 007 spy kit.  I LOVED that spy kit.  And then as a teenager one year we had no money (according to my parents) and my mother gave me her pearls as a present.  BEST. Present. Ever. My neck is too fat for them now but I wore them at my wedding.  I remember another Christmas when I didn’t have money and I made everyone pies.  That was fun.  Usually I try to hand make something, but this year I haven’t been inspired so it just might be a gift card year.  One that everyone will forget.  Oh and another best Christmas memory ever was when I got Jimmy a membership to the YMCA and taped it to the bottom of a big box and filled the box with confetti.  He opened the present and was so excited to get confetti.  He thought that was the present.  I still cry about that.  What a great kid.

This Christmas, as of this moment, we are all back to getting together for our Christmas breakfast which is at my apartment.  I have had the same Christmas breakfast dishes that I’ve used for years, like 20 years I think.  But ya know what?  I was thinking last night of using different dishes.  No one ever comes for Christmas themed dinner during the Christmas season but I have these dinner dishes.  Do I use them for breakfast?  I don’t know if I should mess with tradition. I’ve had two get togethers this December where I could have used the dinner Christmas dishes but both events were birthday themed with pizza so we had paper plates.  What is wrong with me.  Paper plates. Well, times they are a changing. But maybe I’ll keep going with those breakfast dishes. I’ll think of something to do with those Christmas dinner dishes next year. Or maybe next week. It’s good to have them for whenever.

Ok – back to work work. Thank you for letting me ramble on and yes Jean, I know it’s not Friday (blog day) but ya know, I’m old, I can’t stick to anything that I promise and well I’m even thinking of mixing up my breakfast dishes.  You know I’m off my game.

xoxoxo

Should I make it like a game? And you have to guess? Maybe another time, I’ll just tell you. I am back in Florida. Just for a week. A work week, Monday-Friday. Why you ask? Do I need a reason? Because I don’t have one. I have no idea why I’m here. I got a notion, go to Florida, my notion said. And I ignored it. But it wouldn’t go away. Whatever, I said. It’s just old Go to Florida stuff stuck in my head. I don’t really need to go to Florida these days. I’m happy in Pittsburgh, in my apartment. But it just wouldn’t stop so I said fine, and here I am.

Wouldn’t it be a great idea for me to just go someplace, when I get the notion/nudge, and then write about it? Although I’m not sure what I can write about Florida that is newer than my previous years of writing about Florida. One thing that is different is I’m still working my Pittsburgh job while I’m here. Working from home, but home this week is Florida. I had big plans to get up early and sit on the beach and write my morning pages (brain dump before my day) but it’s FREEZING out there. Okay not Pittsburgh freezing, but freezing none the less. I am NOT going to go out and sit in the cold sand. This morning I stayed on the couch with the heat blasting but by the afternoon I changed from long sleeves to shorts and sleeveless and by 4:30 after work I changed back to long sleeves and a sweater for a long walk on the beach and subsequent sunset. That is a great way to end a work day.

Here’s a wonderous thing that happened at lunch time that I can share. I went for a pedicure. But wait there’s more. I had not had a chance to get one in Pittsburgh before leaving since this was a very last minute idea so anyway as it turns out there is a place right up the street, walkable and yesterday I made an appointment for today to go during my lunch hour. I almost cancelled as I wasn’t really feeling it, but figured, what the heck. So not only was it a really nice pedicure, this older woman who works there (probably mid-70’s) brought out a piece of homemade cake for us all, which was delicious and a nice surprise. She went on to tell us how she made it. One box of any cake mix, 3 eggs, and a can of any pie filling flavor. I had banana and raspberry. I mean the combination ideas are endless. We all spent a long time talking about that and what flavors we would like. And then, there’s more! Then I noticed her doing something with these plastic bags. She was ripping them into strips. They were the bags you get from Giant Eagle, Publix, Walmart, you know the ones. So I yell across the room, What are you doing there? Because now we’re like BFF’s so I can do that. Anyway, she tears the plastic bags into strips and then crochets them into smallish beach bags. She said people like them for the beach because they’re plastic, can’t hurt them, doesn’t matter if they get wet. If they get dirty put the bag in the dishwasher. I bought one. I mean it was awe inspiring. The whole idea of recycling. She said her church started crocheting beds out of them (mats I guess) for the homeless. They would put the mats under the blankets as they again are waterproof, but she said she liked the idea of the purses. So this pedicure, that I wanted to cancel, turned out to be the highlight of my day. The cake, saving the environment and I got a new bag and a couple new best friends.

Although I’ve been to Siesta Key many times over these past 6 years, I am staying at a different end of the “key” so it feels like I’m someplace new. New restaurants, new stores, new streets but the same great beautiful white sand. I was too cold to walk on the beach last night but tonight the wind died down and I was dressed for it. And what a lovely walk it was. Here are some pictures

Notice my “light” photos.

That’s been my day. What a day. And I have 2.5 more days. Maybe I’ll take some more photos and write some more tomorrow. I mean who knows what great things could happen tomorrow. But it will be hard to beat banana raspberry cake, plastic bag purses and beach sunsets.

Stay tuned.

xoxox

I woke up in a miserable mood today.  The weather was dreary, rainy, grey grey grey and I had to go “in” to the office and then “in” to Oakland and I was hating life.  I didn’t know where I was going in Oakland. I was taking the bus from the office. And it was raining sideways. Most days I wake up loving life (see previous blogs) so being miserable is no longer my normal.  But today started out rough.

Then,  after whining and texting my son Zach for directions (he used to work in the building where I had to take the bus to) I ventured out into the big city with my big girl (work) clothes on. It was drizzling but no longer raining sideways. So that was a plus. I walked up towards the Steel building, my usual work stop. I stopped along the way to check my PAT bus card (the one you use to pay bus fare) Added $10 onto it and went on my way. I went into my place of work building and completed a few work tasks. Then decided I would meet a friend in Oakland for lunch before my afternoon meeting.

I boldly and confidently left the Steel Building, walked over to the PAT bus stop. Got on the first bus that came and in 15 minutes met my friend at one of our offices in Oakland.  Not only was it great to see her I got to see one of the buildings where I regularly book meetings. We then walked into Oakland, had a great fattening lunch and a great visit.  I then walked over to the building where I was having my meeting.  Walked into the wrong building BUT it wasn’t the end of the world. I then walked into the right building.  I got up to the right floor, in the right conference room and had an excellent meeting.  We had a presentation by the Office of Disability Environment and was very eye opening to hear the challenges people in wheelchairs face every every day.  It is eye opening to say the least.

After the meeting, I bussed it back to the city. Got off near my home and discovered this new store called Ensemble on Fifth, so of course I had to stop in.  I believe it is all local artisans.  I smiled the entire time I was in the store.  These are not “crafts” – not that there’s anything wrong with “crafts” but these are high end clothes, purses, shoes, soaps, candles.  I mean beautiful beautiful stuff.  I just smiled the whole time in there and saw clothes that some day I hope to have somewhere to wear something like they have.  I mean just so cool.

Then I came home and I realized, this was one of the best days ever.  The air is crisp (but also rainy) – the city is jumping, getting ready for light up night and I just love it.  I love the energy.  I love all the lights.  I love these stores being open. I even love the cold (for a little while).

I am feeling a little like a newbie in the city dweller department however.  Saturday (it’s usually Friday) but Saturday is Light Up Night in the city.  It’s the official start of the Christmas/Holiday Season.  It’s when they’ll light the trees and all the stores will be open and all the lights in the all the buildings on and they’re supposed to have rooftop fireworks.   But my dilemma, as a newbie, is I’m still decorated for Thanksgiving.  Jimmy’s dad had a rule that no Christmas anything until Dec. 1.  He didn’t have many rules so I was always like “ok”.  Zachary’s dad is Orthodox so I always keep my tree up until Jan 7^th for him.  I mean they are doable requests.  However, now I’m just not in sync with the city.  Do you see my dilemma? I feel like an outsider.

It’s not like I ever see John (Jimmy’s father). So I’m guessing he won’t know if I put up my Christmas decorations early next year.  Maybe I’ll just put up one tree in the window.  Like my across the way neighbors. Maybe I’ll even do that Saturday, day. Before light up night. Then I’ll feel like I fit in. I mean this is so so fun.

I have so much to learn about this city living.  Just have to get in sync.

And that is all for today.  Just a little lesson for me that the next time I’m feeling miserable the answer is not to stay indoors, the answer is to go out and walk around and get that fresh air and be in the city. I could probably do without the bus ride.  BUT I know how to do it.  And that’s not nuthin.

xoxoxo

I’ve been listening to a lot of online Live Broadcasts.  I guess that’s what they call these things “Live Broadcasts.” There are many in the evenings which is slowly replacing my TV watching and I can also listen during the days while I do the rote tasks involved with my daily work. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that I’m not listening to how to improve my Excel spreadsheet skills or improve Calendar management.  Although I will always like an Excel spreadsheet, I am hoping to one day, very soon, never look at another Outlook Calendar again. Well at least anyone else’s calendar.  My own calendar is okay. Anyway,,,,the Live Broadcasts that I listen to have mostly to do with self-discovery kind of stuff.  You know, I guess the all encompassing term is “spiritual.” And how weird is it that we are afraid of using that word still, in 2021, because it’s like a word reserved only for those that are in the woo-woo category? Well, I’m going to be bold and just throw it out there and come out of the closet to proudly admit I watch a lot of Live Broadcasts that have a spiritual bent to them. Unfriend me if you must.

Why bring this up?  Other than this is a blog and that’s what bloggers do, share stuff, it’s just to share some of the stuff I’m trying to do.  I find the pursuit of things related to this subject more interesting than politics or anything related to career growth.

So first thing I’m supposed to take note of are synchronicities every week.  I am failing badly.  I see nothing.  I’ve been consciously looking for 5 weeks (along with this Artist Way series I’m working on) and I get nothing when I review my week.  So there’s that.  Not a good start.

I’ve been working on trying to listen to my intuition better, i.e., don’t buy that car, don’t move in with that man, don’t take that job, DO take that job.  It was referred to as “choiceless” in last night’s Broadcast. So when you need to make a decision about something don’t make the decision until it’s choiceless. I recently explained this to a friend who is looking for a couch. It is a grueling experience as many of my friends can attest to when I have looked. Anyway, when you hit that “buy” button without thinking, that’s choiceless. It’s like when you just know it.

At lunch today I listened to which way to turn on my walk. First of all I listened to the prompt (in my head) to go out at lunch for a walk. So I passed step one.  Oh and also during my day I’m supposed to be checking all the blessings/gifts/cool shit I see and take note. One suggestion is keeping a little book and writing them all down.  I have yet to start the practice of writing them down, but I am trying to notice. So I went to the Point (Point State Park) at lunch.  I went left, I went straight, I did loops, whatever jumped into my head.  Nothing great happened.  Nothing happened at all. I just did it.  BUT, there is beautiful sunshine, the rivers are like glass today, so still like no current, I made it around 2.5 miles, it felt so good to be outside, I saw a feather (admittedly they are everywhere, but everytime I see one I say “thank you”) and what else, oh I saw this rose blooming, in November. The greatest gift of all. So I stopped and took a photo.  I mean November and these bushes are blooming. A very lovely nice woman smiled at me in acknowledgement that we both thought this rose blooming business is not exactly a miracle but certainly a little pick me up.  Mostly I just enjoyed being outside in the sun even though it’s only 48⁰

One of the conversations that came up in the Broadcast last night was about thinking about your perfect day.  I feel like I’ve written about this before.  I don’t know that I have a perfect day but when I was in the Point at lunchtime I thought this was kind of a close-to-perfect day, even with that j.o.b. that I am tied to blessed to have 😉.  I love getting up and not having to rush out of the house to work.  It’ll be even better when I don’t have to turn on the computer by a certain time, but that aside I love my quiet mornings.  And I love watching the city light up.  I haven’t turned into David DiCello but I am appreciating the morning light. Check these out:

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I am able to work quietly in the mornings and get stuff done. I am able to eat healthy because I’m right there working in the kitchen and can take the time to whip something up (tonight is Winter vegetable Farro stew) – I can listen to podcasts or blast music while working if I want, I can go for a walk/run at lunch when it’s sunny and when it’s really slow on a Friday afternoon I can even attempt a blog to entertain myself.

Well anyway, it’s just something I’m consciously doing.  You know, trying to appreciate this life of mine. I imagine this will get old after awhile and I’ll start bitching again, but until that time I’m going to keep going in this vein.  You know, maybe it’ll stick.  It’s worth a try.

Xoxoxo