What brings me Joy?

Today it is the little things that build the corners of my lips into the smile that fills my heart.

Waking up to the sunlight shining brightly through my bedroom window this morning.

My Sweet coming home from work and planting one right on my lips after wrapping his arms around my waist as I do the morning dishes. 

My Puppies lying around my feet while I write (when they are not wanting to go outside and then come back in every five minutes). 

Making it right on time for my Yoga class and seeing one of my oldest friends already saving a spot for me.

Rewarding myself for going to the gym by purchasing a skinny cow ice cream sandwich while grocery shopping.

Eating my Skinny Cow in my car while still in the parking lot because I don’t want to wait!  Then taking a pic and posting it to facebook to share it with my friends.

Coming home to the aromatic scent of cumin that fills the whole house, which draws me to stir the chicken still cooking in the pot cooker from this morning.

The excitement that my puppies show me when I walk through the door, so much so that they jump and dance around me as I make my way to the kitchen with the groceries.

Now, the joyest of joys?  Waiting for my GBaby to come over so we can play!

The fact that this has just been this morning and I am so blessed that this is my life.

These are the things that bring me joy today.  Can’t wait for the rest of the day!!

Kardashians and the Shahs

Well, they got me.  Reality TV has been scheduled on my DVR.

Yep that’s right, I now have an insane need to find out what is happening with the Kardashians, how Bethany’s Ever After is going and then of course must know what Reza from the Shahs of Sunset is going to do next as an openly gay Persian.  I was the person that made fun of anyone that knew anything about the Housewives of anywhere or which sixteen year old was pregnant again by somebody else while still having problems with “Tha Baby Daddy”. 

In my opinion this behavior was such a waste of valuable time, thirty or sixty minute intervals of life that they will never get back.  Now having said this, I was sucked in when reality shows were babies and proud to say that I cried when Kelly won in the first season of American Idol. I have watched ever since and I wait for the first show of the season like opening day of Giants baseball.  It tickles me when my pal Ryan states in only the way he can “THIS is AMERican Idol!” 

Then of course there was Survivor that I only watched the first and second season but then quit and until Survivor comes to my hometown, I won’t be watching again.  I think…

Well, here I am all these years later and since I haven’t worked in just about a year, my daily activities include household chores, landscaping, cooking, the gym, errands and of course writing.  So if I am not plugging away at my laptop keyboard, scribbling in my novel notebooks or jotting down daily activities in my travel journal, I am watching the boob tube with my puppies.  (Sidebar: who came up with boob tube?) 

It’s happened, I have fallen into the darkness and have been lured in by all the daytime TV and commercials whispering suggestions and subliminal messages of what happens next in my ears to fill my desire to know.  Yes, It’s an addicition. I hate it but just can’t stop watching!  I am doing nothing about it people!  I am reveling in the curiosity of someone willing to put his or her life on TV. I am rolling around in the “problems” they face and finally listening intently to the sickening sweetness that comes from their lips.  I now find myself worrying about or wanting to mentor them like a family member. 

I now know in my heart that Kris Kardashian and I are motherhood sisters.  I do worry if Khloe will ever get pregnant but at the same time want everyone to just leave her alone.  I feel so sorry for Bruce and Kourtney?  I just don’t know about her yet…  I think more of a psychological evaluation on my part is needed for a diagnosis of her life.  Then there is KIM!  Love her or hate her, she is who she is.  Me thinks that the main ingredient for her recipe is consistency.

My newest addiction is the Shahs of Sunset and the drawing factor for me is the extravagance that is displayed what with pillared entries to what they call home or the bottles of Cristal that flows endlessly which apparently is the Persian lifestyle.  I worry about GG and if she will ever find love because she is a terrible date and a bit shallow.  The piece de resistance?  Reza!  Hellloooo!  Who doesn’t love him!  He is who he is and doesn’t care!!      ooooh snap!

Sweet has rolled eyes and ahem’d more times than I like when he sees the 81% of our DVR used and asks me when I will ever have time to watch all that I have scheduled to record to which I reply “No worries”.  Thankfully I am not at the point where I have elected to follow them on Twitter because if that happens I think a full-blown intervention will be required.

Knowing that there are so many other things to do and realizing that I am now one of those people that wastes that never ending valuable time. I have succumbed after avoiding this debauchery for so long, I am now a viewing prisoner but like Reza says,  “At the end of the day, they have my back and I have theirs.  Hellloooo, we’re Persian!”

The End of my day

This morning I woke up and I realized that my week of debauchery was over.  You see, I gave up hard alcohol, wine and beef for lent this year so once Easter Sunday hit, I imbibed great quantities of Champagne and wine with a grilled steak that I truly believe no human being could bring to a culinary explosion except for Sweet.   Two days later, I decided that I would take a week off from working out, eating right and not drinking during the week.  

I think I earned it right?  40 days and 40 nights people!!

So, this morning, I lay in bed with my Pom, Mr. Oliver staring at me as though I didn't remember that he finally recovered from the craziness (I mean crazy) that took over his little body during the three weeks of having a tantalizing scent surrounding him like a catnip cloud. Not to mention the engorged female anatomy of  Lady, our other Pom, backing it up to him like chocolate on a silver tray.

I was waiting for him to shout out "I'm Baaaack" as though he had been through a Poltergeist experience.  So I get up and clean the kitchen, make my green tea, feed the dogs and head off to the gym for a little cardio and my Yoga class.  A few errands later, I was back at home for more chores and lunch. Fortunately, I only gained 2 LB’s during this self-indulged week of what basically comes down to going rogue.

Not too bad for everything I ate, oh and drank!  -blush-  Boy did I miss those Martini’s. 

 

So here I am with my puppies staring at me from their foyer perch and still trying to decide if they want to be inside or out.  Now with a glass of wine, my two dollar reading glasses and a comfortable mess on my table.  I will continue with the beauty of the end of my day.

Life is good!

 

Good Lord deliver me

From the cowardice that dares not face new truths,

From the laziness that is content with half truths,

From the arrogance that thinks it knows all truths,

Good Lord deliver me.


~ A Kenyan prayer

RMS Titanic 100 years

The RMS Titanic 1912 - 2012

The Dangerous I face

“If you don’t face the dangerous in your writing, you won’t change other people, because you’re not changing you.”    ~Naomi Wolf

This quote prompts the eternal question that plagues I hope not just me, but all writers new and experienced.  What is the dangerous in my writing? 

So I thought about it for some time and came to the conclusion that the dangerous I face in my writing would be the self truths that linger just behind a story line and creep in and out of the creative process for someone to enjoy not knowing that somewhere in the deep dark crevices I lay with a ball cap and sunglasses watching and waiting for someone I know to recognize a sentence, a word or an emotion. 

Then it all blows up.

I believe that it will happen for me and my writing will be there for all to see, bare and beautiful.  So what happens when the explosion rings through my ears and the smoke settles?  I continue writing and my sword will be my pen…

An Unseated Moment

The unseated moment for me transpired over a long period of time and was so slow in its existence that I didn’t even realize my life was changing until it was over.  I believe the medical types call it “perimenopause” and it is a not for the faint of heart!  I have spoken about this before in journals, blogs and on paper but never thought of anything good coming from it, until now.

My emotions ebbed and flowed, the stress warped my shoulder muscles and the depression sucked the life out of me.  I struggled with the wine bottle, as it was becoming a deeper friend to me than I had ever intended or wanted.  Then one day as I sat in my darkened living room watching the ever mind numbing sound box for the millionth hour, I watched a woman make a cake and thought I can do that!

It had to be the Prozac that I was told to take for this womanly transition into stage two of my so called life because I could cook pretty well, but to take on baking seemed insane.  I went to the store and bought a cookbook as well as a book of dessert recipes. With my love of reading, I studied these recipes and read them like the fictional tale of my favorite authors. The ingredients, the directions, the music that played while I would mix, whir, stir and fold.  I bought utensils, kitchen accessories, and more cookbooks to perfect my craft.  I would ask Santa every year for a new gadget that I needed because I knew I was on the good girl list!    I was lost in the masterpieces that I created and longed for the solitary movements of the dance that was food creation. 

Birthday cakes, muffins for coworkers, many recipes tried by the friends of my children that I lovingly called my precious guinea pigs as I rubbed my palms back and forth.  Dinner parties came next with friends and family enjoying all that lay before them on the table.  The smells that filled the senses upon entering my home was that of coziness and love.  Menus were the most fun to create, as the food became a Broadway play for all to enjoy. 

It has been about eleven years now and my kitchen is one of beauty with all my gadgets, a fill of herbs and spices and a pantry that has items that one would never think to purchase built from many recipes followed or created.  The menopause? Well the hot flashes still come and go, no more night sweats and a good bottle of Merlot is still my friend and thankfully not my prison.  The art that happens now no longer comes from a place unseated or a medical need to remain the same but a place of love and a craft perfected.