Today, I am grateful for
*husbands who take cool photos of ice crystals on trees (will post when he remembers to send me one from his computer)
*bruises rather than broken bones on a seven-year-old who has decided he is really a monkey
*a repaired car
*books
What are you grateful for today?
Monday, January 11, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Words, Words, Words from Robert Heinlein
Here's one of my favorite quotations about writing:
"Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards." Robert Heinlein
"Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards." Robert Heinlein
Thursday, January 7, 2010
A Word for 2010
Last year’s word was Fearless, and in many ways, it worked for me, especially in the area of stamping. If you’re at all curious about that or want to know how a word can change your life, you can read all about Fearless here.
My word for 2010 is Write. As in,
*Write my book.
*Write notes in cards and mail them to family and friends.
*Write my blogs.
*Write on scrapbook pages.
*Write because I want to write, because it’s fun, because I feel compelled to write from inside myself and not because I have to please somebody else.
What is your word for the year? If you need ideas, check out Ali Edward's post here. Once you choose a word, please share it in the comments because you just never know when your word might resonate with someone else and help them bring focus to 2010. I'll compile a list of everyone's words and post it next week.
Happy choosing!
My word for 2010 is Write. As in,
*Write my book.
*Write notes in cards and mail them to family and friends.
*Write my blogs.
*Write on scrapbook pages.
*Write because I want to write, because it’s fun, because I feel compelled to write from inside myself and not because I have to please somebody else.
What is your word for the year? If you need ideas, check out Ali Edward's post here. Once you choose a word, please share it in the comments because you just never know when your word might resonate with someone else and help them bring focus to 2010. I'll compile a list of everyone's words and post it next week.
Happy choosing!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Lucky Zen State
I am in a Zen state as I reheat leftovers for dinner. We sit down, and the following conversation occurs:
Jack: I want to pee on the floor.
Nick [laughs hysterically]: He wants to pee on the floor!
George: I think he said he wants to be on the floor. What did you say, Jack?
Jack [slight impish grin]: I said, I want to pee on the floor.
Me: You would be in big trouble if you did.
George [teasing]: Yeah, we’ll treat you like a dog. We’ll rub your nose in it and throw you outside. [both boys laugh hysterically]
Me [Zen state compromised]: Let’s not talk about pee at the table.
At the end of the meal, my Zen state has been recovered by George’s brilliant chicken and dumplings. Hoover is begging, so I blow on his face. Dogs hate that, but in his beggarly intensity, Hoover barely reacts.
George: That was mean! Why did you do that to the dog?
Me [still Zen]: Because he’s an obnoxious beggar. [Look at dog, who is totally fixated on the table and more energized and alert than usual]. Are you going to jump on the bed all by yourself tonight, Hoover?
George: He looks like he could. He’s all full of piss and vinegar.
Nick [laughs hysterically]: That’s funny! Piss and vinegar! Piss and vinegar! Ha, ha.
Me: Do not repeat that, Nick.
George: Why not? It’s not bad.
Me: It’s not appropriate for school.
Nick: Piss and vinegar! Ha, ha. That’s funny!
Me: My Zen state is rapidly deteriorating.
George: You live in a house with three boys. Four if you count the dog. You’re lucky to have any Zen moments at all.
Jack: I want to pee on the floor.
Nick [laughs hysterically]: He wants to pee on the floor!
George: I think he said he wants to be on the floor. What did you say, Jack?
Jack [slight impish grin]: I said, I want to pee on the floor.
Me: You would be in big trouble if you did.
George [teasing]: Yeah, we’ll treat you like a dog. We’ll rub your nose in it and throw you outside. [both boys laugh hysterically]
Me [Zen state compromised]: Let’s not talk about pee at the table.
At the end of the meal, my Zen state has been recovered by George’s brilliant chicken and dumplings. Hoover is begging, so I blow on his face. Dogs hate that, but in his beggarly intensity, Hoover barely reacts.
George: That was mean! Why did you do that to the dog?
Me [still Zen]: Because he’s an obnoxious beggar. [Look at dog, who is totally fixated on the table and more energized and alert than usual]. Are you going to jump on the bed all by yourself tonight, Hoover?
George: He looks like he could. He’s all full of piss and vinegar.
Nick [laughs hysterically]: That’s funny! Piss and vinegar! Piss and vinegar! Ha, ha.
Me: Do not repeat that, Nick.
George: Why not? It’s not bad.
Me: It’s not appropriate for school.
Nick: Piss and vinegar! Ha, ha. That’s funny!
Me: My Zen state is rapidly deteriorating.
George: You live in a house with three boys. Four if you count the dog. You’re lucky to have any Zen moments at all.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Resolute
New Year’s Resolutions are such odd things. We feel compelled to make promises to ourselves that we pretty much know we won’t keep, but every year, come January 1st, we have the best intentions. We hope for change in ourselves but rarely manage it. Sometimes, though, we do succeed, even spectacularly. I wonder what makes the difference between the successful resolution and the more common unsuccessful one.
Eighteen months ago, I decided to quit drinking Coca-Cola. My husband had heard this particular resolution before and rolled his eyes at me when I declared my intention. This time, I stuck to it. I haven’t had a coke in all this time, despite my continued mouth-watering Pavlovian response to the sound of a can of soda being opened anywhere around me. Or even on television. Or even just when I imagine the sound in my brain.
But if someone popped a cold one in front of me right now, despite my salivating response, I would just say no.
I wish I knew why I’ve stuck with this one. My reasoning included such logical self-talk as
a) soda weakens your bones and you don’t want to develop osteoporosis like your grandmother,
b) you’re gaining weight and soda is empty calories,
c) soda rots your teeth,
d) you’ve got stomach acid issues and pouring five cans of acid down your throat every day is sort of stupid.
The only thing my emotions were telling me was that the sugary, bubbly, caramelly soda made me happy. I wasn’t scared of osteoporosis (too far in the future) or stomach acid (pop antacid tablets after each can) or tooth rot (I rarely get cavities). I didn’t like the weight gain, exactly, but I still wasn’t fat. I’d been telling myself all those logical reasons to quit for years. For some reason, my brain’s logic circuits finally won.
When I thought about this year’s resolutions, I came up with several:
1) Write more.
2) Exercise more.
3) Scrapbook more.
4) Eat less and better.
I thought I was doing a good thing by being rather vague. Wouldn’t those goals be easier to achieve? Alas, no. Reading an article in Parade Magazine Sunday morning, I learned that resolutions should be specific and realistic, and must engage both logic and emotion. You should also adapt your environment to promote success. This advice is based on the latest and greatest brain research by distinguished neuroscientists, psychologists, and medical doctors. Who am I to argue with smart people like them?
My 2010 resolutions meet only one of the experts’ criteria: the goals are all realistic. I can write more, exercise more, scrap more, and eat less. All definitely do-able. But how, exactly, am I going to do them? How can I make the goals specific? How can I modify my environment to ensure success?
Trying to answer these questions made my brain hurt. I just deleted six paragraphs of blather about making these goals more specific.
You’re welcome.
Instead, I’m going to do what everyone else does: make resolutions, try my best to achieve them, and surely fail at most of them. But if I can quit drinking coke, I think I can at least make some progress.
Care to share your own resolutions? I’d love to read your hopes for change in 2010. Also, if you’re interested in the Word of the Year project, think about what word you would like to be your theme for 2010. (If you have no idea what the Word of the Year project is, click HERE.) You might think my word is RESOLUTE, and perhaps it should be. But it’s not. You’ll just have to wait for the anti-climactic announcement later this week. I think only my friend Karen D will understand it, anyway.
Eighteen months ago, I decided to quit drinking Coca-Cola. My husband had heard this particular resolution before and rolled his eyes at me when I declared my intention. This time, I stuck to it. I haven’t had a coke in all this time, despite my continued mouth-watering Pavlovian response to the sound of a can of soda being opened anywhere around me. Or even on television. Or even just when I imagine the sound in my brain.
But if someone popped a cold one in front of me right now, despite my salivating response, I would just say no.
I wish I knew why I’ve stuck with this one. My reasoning included such logical self-talk as
a) soda weakens your bones and you don’t want to develop osteoporosis like your grandmother,
b) you’re gaining weight and soda is empty calories,
c) soda rots your teeth,
d) you’ve got stomach acid issues and pouring five cans of acid down your throat every day is sort of stupid.
The only thing my emotions were telling me was that the sugary, bubbly, caramelly soda made me happy. I wasn’t scared of osteoporosis (too far in the future) or stomach acid (pop antacid tablets after each can) or tooth rot (I rarely get cavities). I didn’t like the weight gain, exactly, but I still wasn’t fat. I’d been telling myself all those logical reasons to quit for years. For some reason, my brain’s logic circuits finally won.
When I thought about this year’s resolutions, I came up with several:
1) Write more.
2) Exercise more.
3) Scrapbook more.
4) Eat less and better.
I thought I was doing a good thing by being rather vague. Wouldn’t those goals be easier to achieve? Alas, no. Reading an article in Parade Magazine Sunday morning, I learned that resolutions should be specific and realistic, and must engage both logic and emotion. You should also adapt your environment to promote success. This advice is based on the latest and greatest brain research by distinguished neuroscientists, psychologists, and medical doctors. Who am I to argue with smart people like them?
My 2010 resolutions meet only one of the experts’ criteria: the goals are all realistic. I can write more, exercise more, scrap more, and eat less. All definitely do-able. But how, exactly, am I going to do them? How can I make the goals specific? How can I modify my environment to ensure success?
Trying to answer these questions made my brain hurt. I just deleted six paragraphs of blather about making these goals more specific.
You’re welcome.
Instead, I’m going to do what everyone else does: make resolutions, try my best to achieve them, and surely fail at most of them. But if I can quit drinking coke, I think I can at least make some progress.
Care to share your own resolutions? I’d love to read your hopes for change in 2010. Also, if you’re interested in the Word of the Year project, think about what word you would like to be your theme for 2010. (If you have no idea what the Word of the Year project is, click HERE.) You might think my word is RESOLUTE, and perhaps it should be. But it’s not. You’ll just have to wait for the anti-climactic announcement later this week. I think only my friend Karen D will understand it, anyway.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Gratitude Journal #27
Today, I am grateful for
*reality shows that are all about the love of something and not at all about humiliation or bickering (Throwdown with Bobby Flay, for instance)
*appropriate medical care (for my uncle, who had a heart attack a week ago) and friends who pray
*the joy I hear in my mother's voice when we talk on the phone now; her word for 2010 is BEGIN...and she's off to a good start
*little boys who are so cheerful in the morning that I have to smile BEFORE I get my first cup of coffee
What are you grateful for?
*reality shows that are all about the love of something and not at all about humiliation or bickering (Throwdown with Bobby Flay, for instance)
*appropriate medical care (for my uncle, who had a heart attack a week ago) and friends who pray
*the joy I hear in my mother's voice when we talk on the phone now; her word for 2010 is BEGIN...and she's off to a good start
*little boys who are so cheerful in the morning that I have to smile BEFORE I get my first cup of coffee
What are you grateful for?
Friday, January 1, 2010
Words, Words, Words from Paul McCartney
Today, when I turned on my computer, I was greeted with a headline that said something to the effect that 2009 was such a bad year that Americans lacked optimism moving into 2010.
Shouldn't optimism kick in when things are bad? Isn't that when it's most useful? Isn't optimism a lot harder when all people hear is that they lack optimism? Doesn't that become a self-fulfilling prophesy?
Just askin'.
2009 was what it was...a hard year for many. 2010 hasn't had a chance yet, but the media is already dragging it down. Let's let 2009 be. There will be an answer. Let it be.
Now, doesn't that help? Just a bit?
Shouldn't optimism kick in when things are bad? Isn't that when it's most useful? Isn't optimism a lot harder when all people hear is that they lack optimism? Doesn't that become a self-fulfilling prophesy?
Just askin'.
2009 was what it was...a hard year for many. 2010 hasn't had a chance yet, but the media is already dragging it down. Let's let 2009 be. There will be an answer. Let it be.
Now, doesn't that help? Just a bit?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)