loving words

     In the throes of a new relationship, not very new, but before the "I love you", there are things you want to hear from the your love interest.  You need to know you're important to him.  You want to know you're his first choice to spend time with, that he picks you when he has something important or funny to say.  Even after the "I love you"....and the "I do"....these same things are still important.   I'm fortunate that Hubby doesn't let me forget how valuable I am to him.  He treasures me, and he lets me know it every day.  There's something more, right now, that I want to hear from him.
     I would like to know that this house, these friends, and this small city are IT for us.  At least for the foreseeable future.  I want to talk about the landscaping, the kitchen counters and the floors (bare cement for two years now) as if we are the ones who will be enjoying all of it in the coming years.   I want a commitment to our present circumstances.  I want to feel permanent somewhere.  I'm starting to feel permanent here, but I'm nervous about bringing it up with him.  What if he doesn't feel the same way?  What if he doesn't say it back?  
     So, I look and listen for clues.  Does he want what I want? are we here to stay?  I'll work up the nerve to ask him. Soon.

Making the most of a Saturday morning

"Mom, can I turn on the TV?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a beautiful morning and we don't need to turn the TV on."

"It's practically freezing out there! How is it a beautiful morning?"

"It's below freezing out there; it's 22 degrees."

"So, how is that a beautiful morning?"

"It's beautiful for two reasons.....three....no, maybe four reasons.....hold on a minute while I think about this."

1. The TV isn't on.
2. From my chair I see a kitchen and living room that aren't disasterously messy.
3. My Boy is sitting on the love seat, reading a book.
4. I'm reading a true love story written by a smart, funny lady.
5. There's a cat warming my legs.
6. The TV isn't on.

So there.

Optimism

I peeled the "Mess with Texas" bumper sticker off my car today.  It occurred to me that we're here for the long haul and it's a tremendous waste of emotional energy to not like the state in which I live.

On the same note, some gratitude points...

• friends who will tell you the truth when you are ready to hear it
• lemonade iced tea
• freckles on Henry's nose
• cool nights and heavy blankets
• Hershey's milk chocolate

For some more  thoughts on optimism, and on choosing your outlook, see yesterday's posting at Lyn's Lifepixels.

Enjoy your day,

Laurie

It's quiet in here

There's such a striking difference between an empty classroom and that same room when it's full of children.   I don't have to tell you that the energy level drops considerably once the kids have walked out the door.

I'm an introvert, in the sense that I draw my energy from time spent alone.   So my days at school are an aggregate of our contrasting energy levels, held together by shared enthusiasm.  It's exhausting and exciting, and I am so blessed to be able to make a living doing something I love.

Banned Book Week (Sept 26-Oct 3)

If all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind. Were an opinion a personal possession of no value except to the owner; if to be obstructed in the enjoyment of it were simply a private injury, it would make some difference whether the injury was inflicted only on a few persons or on many. But the peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.

— On Liberty, John Stuart Mill

Yeah, what HE said!!!

If  you really want to learn something, have a conversation (not an argument) with someone whose opinion differs from yours.   It's eye-opening, faith-strengthening.

Have a great day, read something shocking,

Laurie

Banned Book Week

ooooh, shiny!

This is a 2009 Harley Davidson Street Glide.  Officially, I was terrified to be on it.  But....

Well, I can be distracted by shiny objects, and it certainly was shiny.  I'm not saying that I will ever own a motorcycle, but....

Yesterday, I was sitting outside drinking coffee with Jan and I saw three women on Harleys.  That doesn't mean I need one, right? Because I also saw three women wearing tank tops and I'm not going THERE.

As couples age,  they experience a hormonal switcheroo.  No,  I don't expect Hubby to put wallpaper up in the garage, but I am told that he will gradually be more settled.   Likewise, I hear that I will feel more wanderlust, less of a nesting instinct.   (Of course, I stopped right in the middle of writing this to verify, Google-style, and I found nothing.)

This means I might have to come up with a better excuse to shop for a Harley when I'm 50.

Enjoy your Sunday, rain or shine,
Laurie

it's still about joy, just be patient

denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance

If you have experienced grief, you know that those aren't stages, but are rather part of an emotional menu.  You're limited, pretty much, to this menu for a short while following the loss, but gradually your choices broaden.

Phew!  It's a relief when you begin to feel the full range of emotions again.  What nobody warned me about is that those five troublemakers I listed above don't really go away.   They just creep back into the shadows, coming out less and less frequently as time passes.   From the Silver-Lining Camp comes this truth:  That loss has shaped your life, but now you are free to go out and (as they say) make the best of it.  Of the rest of it.

Thank God.  I don't need my Silver Lining peeps to tell me how great I have it now.  I love my life, and I am aware of that daily.  I accept my divorce, five years ago this summer, as a rocky place I steered around, a detour I'm glad I took.   Does that mean I'm never sad about it? never want to act like it never happened? Does that mean I'm never angry?  Nope.

Many types of life changes, like natural disasters or the death of someone close to you, come without a perpetrator, no bad guy for miles around.   You can bargain with God, but to whom goes the anger? Hmmmm.  Lemme see.  No one to blame. But the anger doesn't go away, and no one tells you that it should.  No one asks you to forgive, immediately, forever, and without hesitation, this person who hurt you.  No one asks you to make nice with the phantom "he" or "she" that destroyed your house, or took your family member away forever.

So, please, when a friend or family member is angry (and less-than-hospitable) sometimes with the person who caused so much grief, please be mindful.  Divorce involves loss on a grand scale: loss of the tangible and the intangible.  We can move on, we can have better lives, but the loss still happened. Sometimes we will feel angry, and we have a legitimate target for our anger, so just be mindful and wait for it to pass.

Thanks for listening,
Laurie

Catching up

Today was a catch up day.  I caught up with student testing before leaving school for a routine doctor's appointment.   This afternoon, I eliminated the remnants of a week-old grocery list, so the cupboards aren't bare.  While shopping, I finally found some Fish Eye wine and have since made up for a few weeks without any pinot grigio.   We've also rented "Sunshine Cleaning " which I've been meaning to watch for a while.  The dishes are clean,  and before I go to bed, the laundry will be put away.  (Ok, maybe not.)  

That's what passes for "caught up" around here :)

Have a great Thursday!
Laurie

I love my inner child

*stomp stomp*

My inner Five Year Old doesn't want to go to school today.  No reason, except that hot chocolate, a blanket, a book, a nap, and some TV is more appealing than round tables, worksheets, recess and fluorescent lights.

I know that my students, who are (I'm sure) much more in tune with their inner Five Year Olds, feel the same from time to time.  Maybe even today?  So, I'm going to get the necessary things done, and I'm going to read to them, and I'm going to try to find some ways to give them "hot chocolate, blanket, book, nap" feelings.  They could use it: 1st grade is hard work.

Read any good people lately?

Rather than favorite books, I have favorite authors.  Here are a few I can think of at the moment: Barbara Kingsolver, David Sedaris, Larry McMurtry, John Irving, Marcus Zusak, Ayn Rand, Pat Conroy (Kathy, I know you're heaving right now.)  From reading more than just one or two of an author's works, not necessarily from a series, I think you can triangulate his or her personality fairly accurately. Of course, since I don't run in those elite circles, I haven't tested this theory, but I'm sticking to it.

What a way to meet new people, right?  Just find "F  Zus" in the Young Adult section of a library and you're in:  "Reader, I'd like you to meet Marcus Zusak.  Mr. Zusak, this is one of your readers. She'd like to know a little more about you."   Sometimes, real life introductions can be awkward, but what's simpler than reading a book?    When I want to connect, but I'm not feeling socially adept (maybe my filter's on the blink again, it happens),  I open a book.

Barbecue...yum!

When I first had barbecue in Texas (Rudy's in Leon Springs, 1994) , I was thrilled by the unique, rugged style of it, all of it: the building (half a gas station), the wood pile, the picnic tables, the trough filled with bottled sodas and beers.  Now, at least a couple times a month, I find myself dipping tender chunks of meat into a peppery vinegar sauce and mopping it up with generic white bread.  "I could get used to this," I said to myself when, after returning to live in Texas in 2004,  Hubby and I first visited the Rudy's closest to our home.  Now, my inner dialogue is a little on the entitled side.  "This," I say, "is what meat should always taste like."

After 5 years as a Texas resident, I have found that Rudy's is not, by any stretch, unique.  Smitty's, in Lockhart, has been smoking meat so long that the walls in the pit room are soot black.   Maurice's, a local place for a brisket fix, has been in business over 50 years.   Clem Mikeska's is a familiar sight on our drive to church.  A friend's 4 year old daughter calls Clem's  "the flame place" (referencing the logo on the front of the building) and it's her choice every time they ask where she'd like to eat.  Yesterday, we ate at Schoepf's in Belton.  Sausage is usually my choice, but last night I had a turkey sandwich, Hubby had the brisket plate, and the Boy had pinto beans and dinner rolls (as usual).  When the college-age man behind the first counter, in front of the open pit, handed me a tray lined with butcher paper, I smiled to myself.  There was my sandwich: a nondescript hamburger bun with sizable chunks of smoked turkey breast. No plate, of course.

If it's not served on butcher paper, is it really barbecue?
Laurie

My Hidden San Antonio has a post about the Rudy's in Leon Springs, if you're interested in details about the unique atmosphere of this local chain.

Just five minutes

I know that I read others' blogs for a glimpse into their daily lives, to find a connection I might not have known about before.  I'm hoping this will be a way for me to give back.  Let me know when I hit the mark, when I give you something new to think about, or when I make you smile.

Someone asked me once, I think trying to ferret out an anxiety disorder, or possibly depression, "Do you ever feel joy?"  I answered, "Yes," right away, that was easy.  But, when?  That was harder question. I feel joy daily, and I am mindful of it because I have felt pain.  (*insert pithy text here about joy and pain going hand in hand*)   Mostly, I am thankful when small things go right, elated when small moments take me by surprise.  

wishing you a weekend full of pleasant surprises,

Laurie