The whole world is full of inspiration. I am so very, very grateful that I’ve been able to explore just a few corners of this great big world. In my travels, I’ve been inspired to step outside my comfort zone, embrace cultural differences, adopt new attitudes, challenge stereotypes, expand my palate, forge new friendships, consider new perspectives, and create my own opportunities. I hope I’m a better person for the experiences.
NaBloPoMo Wednesday, November 6, 2013
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Okay, just for a moment, we’ll totally set aside indecisiveness as a trait I want need would like to change, and I’ll tell you that I’m torn between two other things: perfectionism and procrastination. In my opinion, these are two of my worst qualities, and I’ve owned up to them before. According to any decent 12-step program, this is a crucial first step toward recovery. But it doesn’t seem to help in the least that I am fully aware of and freely admit to both weaknesses. Despite numerous attempts and various tactics, I’ve been unable to noticeably alter either characteristic. Occasionally I experience a small victory in one arena or the other, but some days I honestly think the perfectionism is getting worse. I wish I could wave a magic wand and get a handle on this pair of problems once and for all. Maybe it’s time to locate a sponsor who can help me examine past actions and move forward with a new code of personal conduct. Or is it too late to teach an old dog new tricks?
When I was living with my parents, Mom did the laundry on Mondays. If your favorite shirt wasn’t in the hamper before you left for school Monday morning, you were waiting a-whole-nother week for it to get washed. Once I moved out and was on my own, I kinda stuck to the once-a-week washing schedule, just because it usually took that long to accumulate a load of lights and of darks. However, living overseas in two countries with impossibly tiny washers and wickedly inefficient dryers, doing laundry became an almost daily event. If I tried to save up a week’s worth of dirty clothes, it would have taken a minimum of three days to get through it all. We’ve been back in the States, with good old American size appliances, for three months, but have not reverted to a single weekly laundry day. Whenever I see a full load has accumulated, I toss it in the washer, be it Monday morning, Thursday night, or Sunday afternoon between football games. I’m grateful that I have so many random opportunities during the week to pull something warm and snuggly out of the dryer!
NaBloPoMo, Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Tell us about your writing space. Where do you write your blog posts?
If I’m home during the day and there aren’t a thousand other things vying for my attention, I take time to actually sit down at my desk in the upstairs office to write. When I’m here, I am usually surrounded by silence–which, depending on the day, may or may not have a beneficial effect upon my concentration. My desk is rarely this uncluttered, so writing up here often gets interrupted by filing, shredding, phone calls, emails, balancing the checkbook, organizing the pen jar…
When I’ve been too busy or too lazy to write during the day, I usually end up downstairs on the couch in the evening, banging away on my laptop while the hubby watches TV and reads the paper. More distractions here, but since some days it takes me a couple hours to spit out a hundred words, I hate to lose that time with him. (Although maybe he’d rather I just go upstairs and write what I’ve got to write than snipe at him when he asks a question in the middle of me nearly…almost…just about…damn, lost it…stringing together a coherent sentence.)
Art is something I’ve decided is completely in the eye of the beholder. I, for example, would consider these antique bread knives to be art. Just look at the detailed carving of the handles. Does the fact that something is utilitarian preclude it from being art? Is it only art if it hangs on the wall or collects dust on the mantle…or worse, is kept behind security glass in a climate-controlled museum? To me, art isn’t merely about beauty; a piece must reach inside and grab my soul. There’s not much rhyme or reason to what I like, but I’m definitely more likely to swoon over a hand-carved knife handle than the ceiling of the Sistine chapel. I can certainly appreciate the time and talent masters like Michelangelo invested in their paintings and sculptures, but they generally are not pieces that resonate with me. I’m grateful that I don’t just think of art as something on display in a museum…because I’m surrounded by artwork in the form of a hand-knit scarf, a mural on a downtown building, a sculpture made from vintage farm equipment, even a carved pumpkin.
NaBloPoMo Monday, November 4, 2013
Who is your favourite character of all time?
Okay, I’m not really sure what this answer says about my worldliness, but my favorite character has always been Winnie the Pooh. In an attempt not to appear overly childish, I struggled to think of a protagonist from classic literature or a hero from stage or screen whom I love more, but just couldn’t do it.
Pooh is a character that can be loved at any age. As a small child, I loved him mainly for his cuteness. He made me giggle whenever his love of ‘hunny’ led to trouble.
As I moved into middle school, I began to appreciate more of the clever truths disguised in his off-hand remarks.
“To the uneducated an A is just three sticks.”
Throughout college and beyond, when I was tackling the world on my own and battling occasional bouts of homesickness, Pooh understood.
“I wonder what Piglet is doing,” thought Pooh.
“I wish I were there to be doing it, too.”
Now, even as an adult, Pooh’s words, uttered in his gentle sing-song voice, can encourage me to do the right thing, even when I’d much prefer to hibernate bear-like under the covers…
“A bear, however hard he tries, grows tubby without exercise.”
…or jump willy-nilly into a project.
“Organization is what you do before you do something, so that when you do it, it’s not all mixed up.”
Winnie the Pooh embodies many admirable qualities that, if everybody adopted, would make the world so much nicer. Pooh is fairly unflappable, even with a ‘hunny’ jar stuck on his nose–there is no screaming or unnecessary drama in the Hundred Acre Wood. Pooh does not easily take offense, or look for reasons to start a fight, even when insulted by Rabbit. Pooh treasures his friends, and stands by them through thick and thin. He accepts them just as they are, stoically ignoring Eeyore’s gloom, patiently waiting through Owl’s lengthy explanations, and gamely trying to keep pace with Tigger’s hyperactive romps. Above all, Pooh knows that
“A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference.”
Maybe Winnie the Pooh doesn’t seem like such an immature choice for favorite all-time character after all.
(Blogger’s note: Winnie the Pooh quotes from GoodReads.)
Philly cheesesteak pizza…a change of pace from the traditional pepperoni
When I was growing up, it was tradition to have a large family dinner on Sunday. Mom would make roast beef or fried chicken or some other too-fancy-for-a-weeknight meal, and the four of us would gather around the table to enjoy it. The family time was great, and the food (homestyle Southern cooking) was amazing, but it meant a lot of time in the kitchen for Mom.
I’m grateful that my husband has his own ideas about traditional Sunday dinner. All he wants is pizza. Pizza on the sofa in front of the football game. My biggest worry is making sure there are gluten-free pizza crusts stockpiled in the freezer. Prep, cook, and clean-up times are minimal, so I have the entire day to relax with the hubby–for which I am truly grateful.
Things I See and Know 