Saving Face?

First, let me say that I am a woman who has only left my home a handful of times in my adult life without first grooming my hair and applying cosmetics.  I try to look my best, even around the house.  One of those times, I was too sick to care how I looked when I visited the pharmacy for medicine.  Another time was when I fell at my home and broke my ankle in two places.  Of course, my appearance was the last thing on my mind that day as I sat in the hospital emergency room looking like a train wreck, my ankle bound in an old rag and duck tape. 

Yesterday was a cloudy, rainy day and I dragged myself around the house for hours, drinking coffee in my pajamas, before finally getting dressed.  I pulled a comb through my hair and washed my face before going to my aunt's house for a visit.  I had decided to not go through my usual ritual of curling and fluffing my hair or making up my face, complete with casual earrings, etc.  It was going to be just me and the girls.

Upon arrival at my aunt's house, my sister-in-law, Alice, met me saying that they were on their way to buy groceries at Walmart.  She invited me to go along.  I protested saying that my hair was a limp mess and my face was naked.  However, I did need a few items and she easily convinced me to go along.   As we drove across town, I told myself that it was only Walmart, that no one would pay any attention to me, and that everyone was self-involved and didn't really care about my appearance anyway. 

I was beginning to enjoy the free feeling of being there in my natural state when I rounded an aisle and came face-to-face with a man I hadn't seen in TWENTY-FIVE YEARS!  I bravely smiled, calling him by name, and stated that it had been ages since we'd seen each other.  He looked at me with a blank stare and I could see he didn't recognize me.  There was still time to get out of this.  I had the urge to run but I was stuck.  Finally, I told him my name and a smile of recognition came to his face.  As we chatted and caught up on each other's lives and the people we had worked together with, all I could think of was how humiliating it was to have an old acquaintance see me looking so bad after twenty-five years!  What were the odds?  Wasn't it bad enough that my face was twenty-five years older than back then?  And, wasn't it even worse that I had gained weight since those young, lean days?  I knew I appeared to be a woman who had let herself go.

I'm still kicking myself over it and will for awhile.  I suppose it could have been worse though.  I could have had something green stuck in my teeth or a strip of toilet paper clinging to the bottom of my shoe.  Anyway, I learned a valuable lesson and from this day forward, I will carefully apply my makeup and fluff my hair before I leave the house... even if it's just to take out the trash because every now and then, the odds are against you.

Anasazi Saying

The ancient Anasazi were a wise people who were very in tune with life and nature in a primal way.  Since I haven't been moved to write lately, I thought I would share one of their sayings that resonated with me:

"Time is a great circle; there is no beginning, no end.

All returns again and again, forever."

Last year, I read a trilogy by Linda Lay Schuler about an  Anasazi woman and her people in ancient times.  Though the books are fiction, they are based on extensive research by the author and are fact-based.  I learned the above quote from one of these books, which I highly recommend.

She Who Remembers
Voice of the Eagle
Let the Drum Speak

http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/results.asp?ATH=Linda+Lay+Shuler:

A day at the beach

While on vacation in May, I  wrote this poetic passage while sitting on the beach:

The constant, yet gentle, breeze soothes me, body and soul, as I watch the mystery of the ever changing ocean.  One day, the distant horizon lies sharp against soft blue skies.  The next, it is faint and hazy with sky ribbons of deep blue and bright turquoise. 

The vastness of the ocean overwhelms and demands respect despite the peacefulness it instills in me.  The sandy beach cools my bare feet as I bury them under its whiteness that a few hours ago held the sun's warmth. In the distance, the sun has begun its slow descent, spreading a lavender and red glow across the sky and I am awed. 

A sandpiper feverishly chases tiny morsels within the surf as it ebbs and flows.  Standing in hip-deep water, a young man casts his fishing line in hopes of making a good catch.  A short distance from him an old man too casts his line, wide brim hat flapping in the breeze, and they stand as dark silhouettes against the now pink and golden sky.

Another perfect day at the beach has sadly come to an end as I watch our blazing golden sun dip below the horizon.

Aint Technology Grand?

Today, my aunt, Della Ree, showed me a large, oval, cast iron pot with handles on each side and little feet below and asked me if I knew what its use had been. I didn't know. She said that my grandmother, many years ago, used it to boil her family's clothing to get stains out before scrubbing them on a washboard with home-made lye soap! OMG! I can't even imagine having to do that! But, back then, you did what you had to do and there was no technology to make it any easier.

I have recently been planning a future vacation to a state that my husband and I have never visited and it's half-way across the country. I have done all of the research on where to stay, where to eat, how to get there, places to see, things to do, and learned about the climate there, all via the internet. I remember planning trips when I was in my twenties, before everyone had their own personal computer. If you weren't a member of AAA, you were out of luck and in the dark. I often wonder how I managed my life without my computer.

Back in 1970, when I started my first job as a legal secretary, very few offices had copiers and ours was no exception. So, everything I typed had to be done in triplicate using the dreaded carbon paper. (I'm starting to feel ancient!) Anyway, it was imperative that I make no typographical errors on legal documents or someone could think that they had been altered after they were executed. I went through countless reams of paper that first year on the job due to typos. It was nightmarish starting the same documents over and over again, trying to not make a mistake and knowing I was going to eventually. Of course, my anxiety level was high every Monday through Friday. However, the up-side to all of this is that I became a very proficient typist. I often wonder how I managed to hold on to my job without a computer, a printer and a copier.

When I was a teenager, we listened to our music on a stereophonic record player. I had a big stack of 45 records and a bigger stack of 33 1/3 albums. The sound quality was actually pretty good too. But, just as I put together a great collection of records, along came 8-track tapes. We were thrilled with 8-tracks because you could now listen to the music of your choice in your car! Wow! For those of you too young to remember 8-tracks, and they are forgettable, you didn't miss much. They were big and boxy and would change tracks in the middle of songs. Which means, you'd be groovin' with the music and suddenly, right in the middle of a song, there would be silence, then loud clicking, then the music would resume. It could be a real mood-breaker if you were being romanced at the time.

At the age of 21, I bought myself a two-seater, convertible, Triumph, Spitfire sports car. I loved everything about it other than it didn't have a tape deck. So, I bought one and a neighbor boy installed it for me in my glove box, which was the only space in my tiny car that would accommodate it. Everything was fine for a few weeks until one day, as I drove toward downtown, smoke started pouring from the glove box. Understandably, I was terrified that my car was about to up in flames. After a moment of panic, I pulled a U-turn, drove two blocks to a fire station, ran inside and excitedly announced that my car was on fire in their parking lot. It turned out to be only a bad wire in the tape player that shorted out and there really wasn't a fire at all. The firemen had a good laugh and told me that it was the first time a fire had been brought to them.

Shortly after that, cassette tapes came along. They were so much better than 8-tracks. They were smaller and played through from beginning to end with no stops and no clicks. Of course, they were prone to hanging up inside the player, leaving you with a plastic cassette with miles of tape stringing out of it in a tangled mass. CDs followed and I really have no complaints about them. I love my CDs and hope they are around for a long, long time. I haven't graduated to MP3 players yet but I know one day I will.

Though I take my computer, my CDs, my state-of-the-art appliances, air conditioning, water from the tap, etc. for granted, when I stop to think about it all, I wonder how anyone managed without them. Then, I feel very fortunate and think, aint technology grand?

To sleep, perchance to dream

I created my first blog only a few short hours ago. Here I am writing again and the sun's not up yet. After sleeping for a few short hours and too much cover-fighting, I gave up and got up. Sleeping used to be one of the things I did best. As an infant, I slept around the clock. During my teen years, I could easily sleep till noon, or even later if allowed to do so. But, somewhere along the way, my ability to sleep has changed.

I've been known to sleep on my school desk, sleep sitting at my computer (on the job!), sleep through a street full of fire trucks and police cars charging around, and even through violent thunder storms complete with lightning. In my early twenties, I sat on a jury and cat napped my way through the criminal trial. Before the jury retired to deliberate the case, the judge said that I would be happy to learn that my name had been drawn as the extra, expendible juror. He then announced, to my horror, that I was free to leave the courthouse, go home, and get some sleep.

"They" say that as you get older, you need less sleep. I want to know who "they" are and where "they" got that idea. As I've gotten older, I have less energy and find that I need more sleep. However, I hope that "they" are correct. There are nights when I lie awake because it's a few degrees too warm in the room, or my pillow's not fluffed perfectly. Then there are times when I can't sleep because my husband is snoring or I have an ache somewhere. I can only hope that if the list of petty nuisances continues to grow, it will not do so faster than I age and supposedly need less sleep.

Now that I am retired from my office job and can spend my days as I please, I have more time to sleep than ever before. Isn't it ironic that "they" say I now need less of it? Such is life. We're supposed to get some rain this afternoon and that will be the perfect time for a lovely nap.

First time for everything

There's a first time for everything and this is my first entry on my first blog. I'm not really sure what I'm doing yet but bear with me. I promise to get better as time goes by.

A little of info on me: I got the nickname "Sunshine Sue" from my aunt, Della Ree, when I was just a child. I often wonder why she gave me such a cheery name since I was a very inquisitive, head-strong, and determined-to-have-my-own-way child. Della Ree and my uncle, Landon, lived next door to me and my family and had no children. She baby sat for my younger brother and sister and me for years after our mother went back to work. Della Ree was known to chase us around the house with a yard stick on a daily basis and I don't remember her ever catching us. She is now almost 93 years old, still lives in her own home and gets around great. But, I now help to "baby" sit her and I promise I've never threatened her with a yard stick!.

I am in my mid-fifties, and have been married to a great guy, Dale, for just over four years. We have no children unless you count my child-like cats, Zoe and Harvey. We are natives of, and still live in, the heart of magnificently beautiful horse country, Lexington, Kentucky. I was fortunate enough to take an early retirement from our city/county government five years ago today. I now have my freedom and I'm loving it. My husband works for himself as a home remodeler. He has very little freedom. Our elderly cats spend their days sleeping, eating grass and barfing it up on my area rugs, and crying for attention. Harvey has just come to beg for attention as I write this.

I am an artist and have decided to pursue the daunting task of marketing my works. I have been an oil painter since my teen years when I spent my allowance on paint-by-number kits. Since then, I've had a few classes and have worked on my own to improve my technique. I took a class in ceramic sculpture sixteen years ago and had some commercial success in that area as well. Now, I'm creating hand-painted decorative pillows depicting homes, local quilt barns, horses, cattle, etc. I'll talk about that more another day but you can see that I've posted a photo of one of my creations on this page.

So, there you have it for my first blog. Now, I have to decide in what direction I want this blog to go. I'm off and running and looking for direction. Until next time, have a sunny day.