Christmas

On my way home today, I decided I was not so much in the Christmas spirit, so I grabbed my satellite radio and turned on the Christmas station.  I listened to a few Christmas favorites and even sang along.  Then came on a song that I didn't recognize.  The song was "Dominic, the Italian Christmas Donkey."  No, I'm not kidding.  I don't know what the lore is that caused Dominic to be part of the Christmas story.  I know that there is plenty of rhythmic braying by the donkey during the song.  In fact it was so silly with the braying, I don't know what the claim to Christmas fame that Dominic has.  And he is not just a Christmas donkey, he is an Italian Christmas donkey.  It's hard to say what event caused the distinction of this ethnicity to be a factor in the song.  It could have been as simple as the people writing the song sitting in someones garage drinking heavily, laughing their asses off putting a Christmas song down on paper. 

I think we, as a country that needs to have multiple channels playing only Christmas music 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for two months leading up to Christmas, have given birth to the phenomenon of probably the goofiest, silliest songs that are now known as Christmas songs simply because they have the word Christmas in them.  Even if a song is about a terrible happening of heartbreak or sadness, if it happened at Christmas and says so in the song, then it goes in with the 24/7 playlist.  My personal-worst song that is now a Christmas song is about someone taking someones heart and more or less stomping on it . . . you guessed it, at Christmas, last Christmas to be exact.  And horror of horrors, just when I thought I was hearing it less, someone ELSE recorded it, so it is all new again with a different artist and then it's on the 24/7 Christmas playlist TWICE as much as it was before.  Can I petition someone somewhere to remove this song from the playlist---it's not a Christmas song! 

Now I could look up how the Dominic song came to be,  how old it is, who wrote it and everything I may or may not want to know about Dominic, but you know, I think that might ruin it for me.  I've gone 48 years and never heard that song, so I might just take my chances on catching it again on definitely a slightly more obscure 24/7 Christmas playlist.  

May you all have a great Christmas.  May you all feel the love that family gives during this time of year.  I will be blessed to be with my family, with all my kids around me, no better place on earth.  And may Dominic, the Italian Christmas Donkey visit you on Christmas.  Wait a second, that's not right.            

Jan

I don't often include people's names in my blog, but this is an exception. 

I don’t remember when we first met, but it was many years ago now.  We have rejoiced, enjoyed, and endured so many things throughout the years.  We survived the angst of high school and have been through marriages, divorce, and raising kids together.  Our friendship has grown with all of our life experiences and we have laughed and cried through it all . . . together.

We became particularly close when we both were going through divorce.  Everyone that has to go through that should have that person that you can call anytime day or night to get through it.  When I was sad to give up what I thought was my future, she reminded me of the future that was now my own to create.  When I was mad, she got down into the trenches and agreed that I had every reason to be mad and let me just let it out.  When I was unsure of what came next, she would talk things out until I became sure again.  Jan and my Mom got me through that time. 

Through my life and loss of my beloved Tim, Jan was always there.  She took a supporting role because she knew that although my relationship with Tim was great, she also knew that our time together may not be as long as we wanted so she let us have whatever time we could have.  As Tim got sicker, she was there to be whatever I needed and when he passed, she was my lifeline.  She would talk to me every day and not only got me through so many days, but also helped me have fun.  We forged out ahead with my new life…correction ~ our new life, together as what I imagined having a sister would be like.  Regardless of the sadness that held a part of my heart, we had FUN.  We took on the world by storm, claiming our new found “Red Girl” take no prisoners attitude.

There is just something really amazing having someone be that close that they can hear what you are thinking even when you don’t say it out loud.  I don’t take that for granted, I love every moment of it.  I love having someone that I trust to be able to say… “really, uh, don’t wear that”  or “don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking, Missy” and be spot on.  I try and be there for her as much as she has been there for me, but it is such a labor of love it takes no effort.

So I celebrate Jan and what she has meant and continues to mean to me today, on the eve of her birthday (I won't say which one, haha).  Love you, my sister.  We will, of course, be spending it together.

New Adventures

I continue to follow a road that takes me on new adventures.  Such a wide variety of adventures right and left, I only need to reach out and grab one as it goes by like a never-ending train on a track in front of me.  Some of those adventures are the mere experience of learning the essence of a person, some are the essence of a place, some are a combination of both. 

I went to Albuquerque, New Mexico recently to visit a friend of mine.  I think I have said before that I love to see new places.  New Mexico is fascinating to me because the terrain, the mountains, the topography are all so different than the area of the country where I live.  Yet, I saw colors before me that would otherwise would be thought of as bland or dark on a color wheel put together create a beautiful view.  I experienced the Balloon Festival in Albuquerque....simply amazing.  Add to the browns and blacks of the landscape and the crystal clear blue sky the explosion of color of hot air balloons in every conceivable pattern and color surrounding you on all sides and in layers over your head. 

There are thousands of people who have gotten up at 4:30 in the morning to make the trek to the Balloon Festival grounds.  Every age descend on the grounds when it's still dark and just after the sun creeps over the top of the mountains the balloons begin to take flight.  Rows and Rows of them float up into the sky.  Behind us were the food vendors, with everything you can imagine either made with chilies or covered in green or red (or both, called christmas) chili sauce.  I could eat this kind of food every day for the rest of my life!  We sent up to Santa Fe after viewing what all the vendors had to sell.  Santa Fe, such a combination of people.  We wandered the shops and checked out all the merchants in the plaza.  I have beautiful blue eyes, I was told...because he wanted to sell me some beautiful blue earrings to bring out those eyes at a mere $850.  I shared with him that I wouldn't be buying those beauties, but he still had me try them on so if I had someone else who had $850 to spend on me I could tell them how wonderful they looked.  Nobody within earshot offered so I handed them back to him and thanked him.  The city is a cowboy meets diamonds kind of place.  Fun and interesting. 

The times I had with my friend were so fun.  She is so very much like me, we love to talk about different subject matters yet always come to the same conclusion.  We think so much alike, it's funny and exhilarating.  We say a lot of "I KNOW RIGHT!" when we talk.  Interesting how in the limited amount of time we've actually had face to face, how I can form such a bond with a person.

I love to share my life adventures and observations, and quite a few of you seem to like reading them; the visits to my blog now total 1,025.  Over 1,000...how very exciting for me.  I love to write so much, keep reading and challenge me!!  Thank you! 

A summer now past.

This summer was an interesting one.  I don't remember a summer being so busy.  I also don't remember one being so blasted hot.  My highlight was my Michigan trip with my kids.  I go to my home town every year, back to the place of my birth and get together with my big wonderful family. 

I'm so glad that I am from a small town.  And a gorgeous small town too.  It never ceases to take my breath away to drive into town and look ahead to the bay off Lake Superior that my town sits on.  It's my Zen, it's my home, it's my ancestry, it's my history.  The sunset over the lake captures me and holds me in it's grasp long after the sun is no longer visible on the horizon.  I can't even put into words the sense of peace I feel with the lake and the passage of time does not lessen it.

This year, all of my kids came.  As they get older, I never know when jobs or life in general is going to prevent one or two from going up on our summer journey.  The ties that bind us are strong and we are a family that rely on each other.  This time, I was able to enjoy the kids as adults and have so much fun with them.  I get to transport myself back to when I was young and me and my brother and cousins would spend our summer days and nights together in L'Anse.  Even the caravan stop we make when we travel up to L'Anse was fun.  We got the camper as set up as we could and all laid down to sleep.  Then the giggling began.  I don't know how long it continued, but it was pure joy to be there with all of them, laughing until out faces and stomachs hurt.  As we laughed, we got more and more tired and then all was silent.  I lay there sleepy from the laughter, thinking of how happy these kids make me and memorizing the joy.  

That was one of my summer experiences, but such a moment to remember that I had to write it down.    
   

Spirit

Spirit.  Such a versatile word.  I see it in a different context now.  It's funny, I went back and forth about writing this, but realized that my hesitation in putting it down into written words is the fear that some will think I'm a little crazy.  Then I realized that people may have thought I was crazy for a hundred other things but I pay no mind to those things.  In fact, it's even a little funny. 

I started noticing things with music after Tim passed.  When I would think of a story about him, a song that was meaningful to us would come on whatever I was playing music on.  There was one day, as I was sitting on the edge of my bed, I looked down and I was not impressed with what I saw, to say the least.  I've always been highly critical of my body, but now I was feeling bad for not getting back into exercise.  A song came on, Just The Way You Are, and the words are:

I know, I know
When I compliment her she won't believe me
And it's so, it's so
Sad to think that she don't see what I see
But everytime she asks me "Do I look okay?"
I say

[Chorus:]
When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
'Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile
The whole world stops and stares for a while
'Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

I smiled and thought of Tim when that song came on, because he was always trying to convince me not to be so hard on myself.  The funny part was that the next morning, my clock radio alarm began with that song to wake me.  I smiled again, reminded of the message from the night before.  That day, when I got in the car, in the office, on my computer, virtually everywhere I turned music on that day, that song was on.  Different radio channels, satellite radio, Pandora radio, it didn't matter, the same song came on again and again.  By the end of the day, driving home, it came on again.  I said OK TIM, I GOT IT and laughed out loud!  I live with his spirit.  No matter what anyone says, I believe it. That's just one story of so many where I feel him here.  

If that makes me crazy . . . OK!

Cancer

Cancer.  I would love to be able to say cancer is done affecting my life.  I would love to say that, but I can't.  I don't have the shock like I used to, but the effect is no less sobering.  I feel for those who go through the diagnosis.  I remember, it is so awful, my breath taken away by the shock, my heart pounding in my ears so loud it's hard to listen to the doctor.  I remember the diagnosis day with Tim like it was yesterday.  Everyone who goes through a diagnosis day or a recurrence day will never forget it.  I can't even fully describe those days because it's like a bruise that never heals, the feelings go so deep I doubt I could do it without tears. 

Both of my parents are fighting cancer at this moment, as are several friends.  What do I have to do to get the "get out of cancer free" card?  My life has been monumentally changed by cancer, I just want to scream when I hear of another diagnosis or recurrence.  When will it stop?  I know there are new drugs but I also know that there is no one dimensional answer for cancer.  The people that told me that there was a conspiracy and that there really is a cure out there that is just not getting to the masses are not only wrong, that idea is an enormous simplification of cancer.  Once you are initiated into cancer-world, you know the immense complexities and how so much is really a doctor's best guess, regardless of how trained, specialized, or renowned they are.  You find out about enzyme levels, blood levels, medication names, retaining the cause and effect of everything with that particular cancer.   

The only thing I can do, is care for the people around me that have cancer.  Love them, be there, absorb their shock, pain, disbelief, make them laugh if I can, touch them with my words or my hands and let them know I'm there.  I guess that is the thing that I can do with this fight of others.  If you are a cancer survivor, let your story out.  There are people (myself included) that need to hear there are happy endings, that cancer does not always get to steal our loved ones away and there is hope.  You never know when that is the very thing that gets a person dealing with cancer through their day.     

Creativity

I had a little moment in the last couple weeks.  My daughter Jenna did a benefit with a couple of her friend for two children's charities.  First of all, I commend her for even knowing how to set up a benefit; I would not have the foggiest idea of how to do that.  Is that how you spell foggiest?  It's not a word I write a lot so I really don't know.  But back on task...she and her friends put this together and me and my friend Jan went.  I sat with my best friend and two of my other daughters Angela and Megan.  As the show began, Jenna and her friends and their bubbly MC performance were a treat.  Youth stood in front of me and displayed its enthusiasm and belief in its ability to change the world. 

Once the performances began, that was second treat.  I listened as there were performances of music, dance, and spoken words and poems.  I felt like these people displayed what was not only artistic, but passionate.  I listened as the performer spoke of his life in Chi-town and his ability to not get pulled into the way things are, but to get out and make a difference in his life.  His intensity struck me because he was speaking of personal strife and the will to make change happen and doing it in a public forum.  One after another they got up and displayed their talent and revealed themselves in front of the crowd.  

I thought so much about this performance as I left.  I showed my age by leaving at the break before the extended rap portion of the show.  I know that's creative too, but just because it's creative doesn't mean I have to love it.  I think as I get older in this politically correct society we live in, I forget that I have the ability to stand up in front of people and speak my passion, express my creativity without the fear of rejection.  What is the worst that could happen--someone won't like it?  Since when did I get so worried about that?  And why? 

That was a lesson that I walked away with; a lesson of the young, let that passion out.  Display that creativity right out there and even expose a little of yourself in the process.  I watched all those performers, and Jenna herself standing in front of people without care of the politically correct world outside the door, shine.          

Pet Peeves

I try not to be a complainer, but you know how sometimes you just get so bugged by things and you walk away going "Why?".  I can't really speak for any other state's drivers, but I know Minnesota driving issues.  Now anyone that drives with me knows that I have a mouth like a sailor (sorry sailors) when I drive.  I call people bad names and curse them and tell them what I think of their driving skills, and their car, and their hair, and their age, and anything else I can think of. So I might be slightly more critical of others than the average driver.  But I have noticed a couple signs throughout the Twin Cities that try and teach people how to merge onto a freeway.  It says it's like a zipper--see where you fit in between other cars.  So my suspicions are true...Minnesotans are so bad at merging, the highway dept has to make signs and use a visual like a zipper to help people understand.  Even I did not think it was that inherent of a problem.      

Just today, I'm driving on the freeway and people oddly do the same thing when attempting to merge.  They are merging from my right--the key word here is THEY are merging.  I am not merging because I am already HERE.  So you, merger-man in your stupid truck are driving beside me.  That is not the right thing to do.  We can't both have this spot, I own this spot, you have to find another spot where there is not another car already.  It's so basic, but everybody seems to do the same thing.  I look over at them in disbelief every time it happens, but they don't look over at me, they are pretending I'm not there because they want my spot.  So I end up speeding up or slowing down so merger-man can get on the highway.  It's a mystery and just once I would like to stop them, walk up to them and educate them on their responsibility in a merging situation.  Probably should leave the sailor mouth in the car for that.  I don't want to hurt them, just educate them.    

Now I'm going drastically switch channels here.  I'm going to talk about a woman thing.  Don't be afraid, well be afraid but read anyway.  I'm going to talk just a little about peri, pre, whatever they call it now...menopause.  Just one aspect of it so as not to scare people.  The body temperature gage.  Now why, after child-bearing years are over and we've raised kids and are back to life on our own, must we be tortured?  Why, for instance, when I go to bed and am perfectly comfortable covered in a sheet, does my body say "oh no, we're not comfortable, we just decided you're in a desert and it's 100 degrees, but the heat comes from inside out" and all of the sudden I'm overwhelmed with heat and throw anything covering my body off.  I wait for the heat to subside, then the body says "REVERSE" and I go to shivering cold.  It's critical what I do next, because I've learned it going through this for the last 10 years or so, I can cover my body with the sheet again except I must leave my right leg out.  If I cover my entire body, I will go back to the desert again.  Because I tend to try and sleep at night, I can't always keep the perfect cover situation under control, so multiple times a night, I will wake up in the desert, then freezing, then desert.  You get it.  

Well now that my little rant is over, I feel much better.       

Unusual Memorial Wkend

I have had an amazing weekend this weekend.  I have spent it with my best friend.  We took 2 things we found in a thrift store and re-decorated my whole house.  It sounds amazing, but as I sit here . . . it looks amazing. 

Together we took these two things from the thrift store and started decorating.  We took things down, we put things up, we were on a design frenzy.  We put things in different places, we pulled color from one level to another.  Two nights ago, I was visited by Tim in my dreams.  There have only been a few dreams of him since he passed, but they have all had great meaning to me and there has been no doubt of the message.  The message I got was Tim saying to me "Take down the pictures of me when I was sick".  I remember even his voice saying it to me, and saying again . . . "no, really, please promise me you'll take down the pictures of me when I was sick".  I was sitting having coffee this morning with Jan, and I suddenly remembered the dream and I knew he had a message and I knew it was really clear, but I couldn't remember the message.  We put it aside, figuring that Tim would tell me again.  I walked down the hall a little while later and I heard it again, I yelled at Jan "I know what it is!!!!!"  He wants me to take down the pictures of when he was really sick."  

That's when the frenzy began.  It's amazing how you can change two things in your room and all of the sudden a new room emerges that is your own and the picture in your mind somehow comes to life in front of you?  There will be a couple of items purchased, but it will bring the whole flow of the house into harmony.  It will be my style . . . it's mostly things I already had put into different spaces and in different groupings to make them look new again.  It's me, and I love how I will feel in it.  The space where the picture of Tim when he was really sick was placed, will be re-placed by a beautiful Tree of Life metal wall art.  A symbol of him for all of us.  And this weekend 5-28 was a significant date now in my past, the date of our first date, that lead to our marriage date of 8-25.    

This was one day of this amazing weekend.  The day before we vowed that if the sun was shining we were going to enjoy it.  We sat outside in the sun with our drinks with our tunes from our MP3s playing loudly into the yard.  We actually ended up getting a slight burn...I know, that's really bad at our age, but damn, it felt GOOD.  We haven't seen enough sun and to just let it's warmth envelope your body, it puts me into like a trance state where it's like I can't move, but just drink it in.  Other than drinking vodka lemonades instead of soda, it was like we were 17 again, back in high school and laying out in the yard.  Only we're funner and oh so much smarter, for God's sake.

So this was my weekend, decorating my house with my personality, it was fabulous.  Tomorrow the only thing left is to do girly things.  There will be scrubs and polishes and moisturizers like you've never seen.  It will be another fabulous day.        

The kids were here.

My kids were here this past week.  My daughter and her husband (which is still hard to say because she still seems so young to me) were here.  My son, his girlfriend and roomate were here a lot too to see them.  For the first time this week, the towels are hung up in the bathroom.  The guest room bed is unmade.  There is a stocking on the floor that has to be my son-in-law's it's so big.  He's the only person that's been here that has a size 14 foot.  The dog keeps looking at me like I should make them appear again.  I wish I could.

I stopped worrying about how the house looked when they got here and just quietly picked up around them.  I think back to a story that my Mom told when my kids were young.  She came to my house when I just had Ryan and Amanda, they were probably 3 and 1.  My Mom was always a stickler for cleanliness but she walked in my messy house, with all the things laying around that would naturally be there with two small children, she saw me in the living room sitting on the floor playing with the kids.  What better thing could I be doing at this time, cleaning . . . or playing with the kids.  She appreciated my ability to look away from the mess and see the more important thing.  It was the very thing she taught even though she may not realize it, family is everything.  Love and protect your family with a passion.   

So now when my kids are adults, I don't worry so much about the house.  I clean when I have time, but I don't take away from my time with them.  They are back home now, I have the aftermath of cleaning and washing but think about the times we were together and the things we laughed at as I see the things they used.  Little pieces of them scattered throughout the house.  I'm so glad I have a place they can come home to and someone that will always be happy to see them come.   

One year, today.

Today is the day.  It was one year ago today that my soulmate Tim lost his battle with cancer.  I was going to write something that brought out the funny things about Tim, but I think that was more on the thought that I knew I would feel very sad, and I don't want to make others feel sad.  I guess I learned that from Tim.  The truth is, it is a sad day for me and I'm going to let it just be whatever it is.  Emotions are just emotions, I am supposed to feel them.  That has been part of my lesson this year.  To not look at it as being less than strong, but actually very healthy to feel and express and even ask for a hand to hold to get you through it. 

When we talk about it being a year, in some ways the loss remains fresh and emotion can hit at a time that I don't expect it.  But sometimes it seems like a 365 day journey up a mountain.  To have my life change overnight and have to make myself get out of bed every morning to keep living life when the person that had become the center is . . . gone.  The days of the stuggling to get up and live are getting further and further apart.  Being replaced by a funny story or thing he did or said that occurs to me.  Or the funny things that happen that I know are his spirit.  The song that came on 5 times in one day and everytime I got near a music source it was on, it was Tim telling me something and I knew just what the message was.  Those are happy days when I can hear his voice in my head or picture him doing something he loved to do.  When we would watch our favorite cartoon, Yosemite Sam, and laugh until we cried.  But, every single day, there is something.  I don't know if there will ever be a day when he doesn't come to me in some way.  

Life goes on.  My life is new and different now.  I can't even draw to the similarities of my life now versus before Tim passed except for the people around me.  Maybe it's so different by design, there's no comparison to make.  And because it's all so different, that I'm challenging my mind, my will, my power to take on anything.  I will be happy, I will have an amazing life with many adventures.  I have to think that Tim would be proud of me and how I'm doing and what I'm doing . . . because he knew me so well inside and out, a victory or happy moment for me is something he would encourage.  He hated when I felt bad more than anything.  As the guy on Musky Hunter would say and Tim would always say in jest to me "Good job, Marla". 

 

I'm sitting here looking out at yet another grey day, just a glimmer of sun in the dark cloudy day.  I'm very affected by weather and lack of sunshine.  This spring is tough on any number of levels.  For one, there hasn't really been a spring yet.  We've had a couple sunny warmer days, but then it has quickly gone back to cold and even snow.  The buds are coming out on the trees reminding me that spring is trying to break free and spread the vibrant color all around, but Mother Nature has not set it free yet.  Tomorrow promises to be sunny and warmer and I will soak it in and be energized by the sun we've so seldom seen. 

I went up to my hometown in Upper Michigan (L'Anse) last weekend with my Mom for her birthday weekend.  I'm going to say that she's 70, which I don't think will piss her off since I already posted her age on Facebook.  But, like I am proud of my age and the things I have gone through and conquered, I am also proud of her because I learned the ability to conquer whatever comes my way from her.  She is a beautiful woman and doesn't look near her age, which is definitely something I aspire to!  She's gone through so much in her life and now is at such a happy place, with a new home that is stunning, animals all around her even to the point of peering in her windows.  She lives near the lake and near her sisters and all is good.  It is wonderful to see the smile on her face and the contentment of being where you want to be.  I'm so very proud of her and her energy, her passion, and the way she is always there for family, no matter what.    

I love going to my hometown.  It's a small town that honestly hasn't changed much since I was a kid.  Still the same landmarks and the best thing about that town is looking out at Lake Superior.  There is a certain kind of peace that comes from seeing that lake and just taking in the wonder of it.  I haven't been up there this time of year for a long time so I grabbed my camera wherever I went.  There was still ice on the water and snow on the shore, but it was a kind of intrigue that goes with something that is alive and always moving and changing right before you eyes.  I stood on the shore in the cold wind and listened.  The ice moves ever so slightly but it makes a noise like when you step on a puddle with ice over the top.  That crunching ice-shattering sound comes from all directions of the lake in front of me, the ice pieces hitting each other with the slight movement of the water underneath.  I was mesmerized at this process that was going on in front of me as far as I could see in the water.  I suddenly realized I was shivering in the light cold breeze but it's a sight and sound I won't forget.  

The wildlife is also something that has me with camera in hand.  The deer that come into my Mom's yard are so fascinating to watch.  You get to see their behavior in nature and just watch them do their funny and interesting things.  When I stepped outside onto the porch for a bit, I turned around to come back and there I was, face to face with a deer only about 6 feet away.  The deer is just staring at me like "you're new around here, aren't you" and just wants to watch me and I stare back at it, looking at its gentle brown eyes, the large black nose that has a little grain stuck to it, and ears on the alert.  A couple seconds went by with just observing each other, it stepping into the human world and me stepping into the deer world and then the moment passed and it backed up and went back with the other deer.  The next encounter with wildlife was driving into town and seeing a furry animal waddling across the road.  I stopped the car and ran out with my camera . . . it was a beaver going back into it's swampy home.  It took no notice of me running along side it to get in front of it and take pictures.  I think it was a little annoyed by the dog that was finding it quite interesting as well, but it just moved forward looking at the dog momentarily and continuing on it's journey seemingly without a care.  It slipped into the water and into the sticks and reeds until you could hardly see it camouflaged lying just barely sticking out of the water.  It stayed still until I walked away.

It's coming close to the year marker from when my love Tim passed away.  I think that will be another blog, but I have my red flag at the ready to plunge into the mountain peak that I feel I will have reached when that day is upon me.  I have been climbing with determination to be able to say I've made it through the first year of the most difficult thing I have ever endured.  Another day, another blog to come.   

           

Computers, girl time and such things

Here I am again.  I could not blog for a while because I had computer problems.  This is an area where my back ground (waaaaay back) was in IT and computers, but that has no bearing on knowing anything about computers now.  Turns out, when you get out of it for say . . . 12 years, some things change and I've never caught up.  I do know how to take the hard drive out and put a new one into my Dell laptop, but that was because I had to do it 3 times and then watched the Dell tech replace it the last time.  And we the inexperienced look at the computer as it gets slower and slower and throw up our hands and swear at it (at least I do) but it has no mercy until finally it doesn't even recognize it's own hard drive.  It's like a good relationship gone bad; and so bad it pretends like it doesn't even know you anymore. 

That's when we have to call the dreaded Tech Support.  Then we get to talk to our friends in India about our computer and they reassure us that everything will be fine and they will help us.  I know that's what they said because instead of talking on the phone and saying "I'm sorry . . . what????" I made the switch to online chat with Tech Support and now I find I can understand everything they say.  And they are very sorry that I had to call them and they want to make me happy again.  When I am mad, as I was after the 4th hard drive and one motherboard, I ask for a supervisor because I wanted a replacement.  My Indian friend was very understanding and I tried to hold the hard line, but it's very hard when they are being so respectful and nice to you.  In the end, he did make me happy and sent out a replacement computer.  Unfortunately two days into having it, the keyboard went bad.  I know, right???  By this time I was a seasoned veteran of Tech Support so I had them make me happy again by sending a new keyboard and a technician that comes with it.  But he'll only fix your computer, nothing else...I checked.  He was the same tech that came with the 4th hard drive and he did give me a slightly incredulous look, like YOU AGAIN?  Now, thanks to my friends in India, my computer works again and only types one letter at a time when I press a key.  I think that I spoke to Tech Support so many times in the last month, I may be invited to dinner if I ever go to India, but I'm not sure.  

Now that I have time on my hands, I totally enjoy spending that time with my girlfriends.  I have many girlfriends, some go back thirty-mumblemumble years.  Wow, it's weird to remember that long ago.  I remember people saying that when I was young and I also remember thinking "they are soooo old" but time and age puts things in a different perspective, doesn't it?  But girl-time is not like hanging around with any other group of people.  You may, but you certainly don't have to "serve" your girlfriends.  They serve themselves, they get things themselves, and best of all, they clean up after themselves . . . without even being asked (that's how they differ from kids).  They are always there when you are saying "Am I crazy thinking that?" and they are saying, sometimes even in unison, "No way, you are totally NOT crazy on that" and many times a "You go girl".  They love candles and incense and notice when they come into a room that you have those things going and will comment about it.  When I have people stay at my house, I have special towels I will lay out on the bed, they're the ones that pull the moisture off of your body from about 2 feet away they are so absorbant.  Men will say "what are these for" and throw them on the floor like you forgot to put away the laundry or something.  Women oooo and ahhh because they are so plush and they ask if they should really use the "good towels", because they know that the towels have been set out just for them.

I am sitting here a little guilty for not being outside.  It's lovely out, in the 50s which is warmer than it has gotten in quite some time.  It came by in the brink of time, or there might have been violence at the least likely places because it's the year when winter wouldn't end.  People started to say the word Snow like it was a swear word.  People would remark "It's nice today, but I saw there is snow in the forecast" with a certain hush in their voice.  Like saying it out loud was going to push someone over the edge into insanity.  But I will be outside, there will be another day.  And I do have a reason for not being outside, however lame it may be.  I did not only neglect my lawn last year, which is obvious from how it looks now, my dog has decided to spread her love all over the yard and the yard is a little bit soggy to do the big poop pick-up yet and I don't especially want to see the job that is ahead quite yet.  

That's all I've got for today, but it feels good to write again, I enjoy it so much.  My Blog hits are up over 600 now, I'll keep writing, you all keep reading and pass it on to others!  Thanks!    

The Race.

This past weekend I participated in a 7K race.  This is humorous on any number of levels.  I have never been an athlete in my life and abilities in athletics have always held a little bit of facsination for me.  I tried, I just don't really have it . . . at all.  So why the race, you may be thinking.  Well, I am eternally fighting 20 lbs, so exercise is part of the reason.  The real reason is that my late husband Tim was an athlete.  He convinced me long ago that working out was so important, and that despite having no athletic ability, I could still work out.  He bought me an elliptical trainer because I have a troublesome knee so running was out of the question.  And he taught me that I could do it.  He praised and hi-fived me for working out and never failed to say Good Job, Babe!  He even played racquetball with me to show me I was not, in fact, completely without athletic ability and cheered me on while I did a half marathon on the elliptical.  The lesson was overcome.

So there I was, going to a race.  I did a 5K a while ago and we had a little trouble getting to the starting area and ended up doing probably an additional mile and a half just getting to the starting line.  So I planned ahead, picked up Jenna early and already had my parking in the ramp.  Jenna is a runner like her Dad was so we would do this together.  We got there early and did all the things we needed to do before the race starts.  It's a theme race, so it's all about Irish and St. Patricks Day so there is a sea of green around me.  People warming up and getting ready all around me, taking their athleticism for granted.  I can feel the excitement welling up in me for the starting line.  

The crowd moves towards the start of the race.  All 5,000 people staggered for 2 or 3 blocks waiting for the starting line.  And the race begins.  My music is blaring in my ears, the air feels rather cold, the fog has almost burned off and the sun can be felt through the light clouds that are left.  I start my speed-walking, trying to establish my pace.  I try to stay the same pace when I walk, no matter what the terrain.   I am passing the first marker 1K, passed.  I get that same feeling that I always get at the beginning of my work out--Holy Shit, I still have 6 more to go!!!  But then I surrender to my music again and let it help create my pace.  The hill is coming, I'm feeling strong again because here is where I can shine, my pace does not slow, but many of the runners' does.  They are slowing and I am kicking it, I am conquering the hill and I make it over a little breathless, but breathe in the cool air and look at the cold swirling Mississippi River under me. 

I am flying now, Tim's wings on my shoulders are making me glide.  My pace is even, the music continues to move me forward and I am in "THE ZONE".  Now this is especially exciting for me; I have heard of the Zone from runners all my life, but not really experienced it until I started speed walking and more importantly, racing.  It's a place where my breathing is even, I'm not tiring, my legs feel strong, I don't have to put thought into my movements.  It's so exhilarating.  Now I will never be towards the front, but when I looked behind me, I sure as hell wasn't at the back either!  I come to the last hill, back over the river and the song comes on my MP3 player, it's F**K You.  Now this is meant to be an amusing song and it was just the thing that not only drove me with power over the hill but I must have had a triumphant smile on my face too for the humor of it.  The runners are tired, many are walking over the hill as I pass one after another because my pace did not slow and the song taunts the runners around me in my ears.  I pass the marker, 6K, I'm almost at the finish!  

I am using all my remaining energy to power my way to the end.  I go a little faster, turn a curve and see the FINISH LINE.  I talk my left arthritic knee to go along with me and RUN over the finish line.  I made it, and Jenna comes through the crowd from her much earlier finish and we throw our arms around each other.  They hand me my medal as a finisher; they don't really know what that means to me.  And I shaved a full minute per mile off my time that I was achieving at home.  Jenna, being the wonderful runner she is, was first in her age class. 

We looked at each other and said "He would be so proud of us".      

   

Me stuff

It's amazing the things that you notice when you're looking.  I really think that the years of living with cancer with Tim really sharpened my skills of observance.  Every moment, no matter how seemingly mundane, has something to be noticed and enjoyed.  Lately, there are things that I have noticed about myself that I don't think I knew before because my world was focused squarely on someone else. 

I just realized that I don't have to have my microwave on silent.  That probably sounds so weird to others, but I had the beeper off on my microwave so that loud beep doesn't disturb anyone.  OK, it's me and the dog and the cats here, who will be disturbed?  I honestly set it back to the beep just the other day because I warm up my corn bags and I always forget that I've put them in the microwave because the beep doesn't let me know it's done.  That funny thing that people do with doing things a certain way all the while not realizing why they do them that way.  (By the way, for you people not in the snow belt, a corn bag is a fabric bag filled with corn that I sew, that you warm up in the microwave and put in your lap, on your neck, on sore muscles, or in your bed to warm it up.  And no it doesn't pop, it's not popcorn.)

I always knew I was a planner type personality, but with the power of observation of my wonderful friend, I saw it more as a way that I survive and thrive emotionally.  It makes me feel secure and content to plan things.  I think after so many years of having to plan, but having to be flexible to have the plan change depending on how Tim felt, I get great comfort in planning things that I know will, in fact, happen.  I even go so far as to plan to be spontaneous.  Even as I read that, it makes me laugh, but it's true.  I plan, even if just in my own mind and never saying it out loud, to take days of a given week and be open to, if I don't feel like going right home after work, doing something I enjoy.  So I think of some things I like to do and have those as my back up plan (this is spontaneity for planners) if I don't feel like going home.  I'm still working on being able to change the plan without getting very cranky.  Not really that good at that yet, but I'm working on it.  

I also like bling bling jewelry.  Rhinestones and cubic are running amuk on my hands, wrists and neck.  I have just about as many rings as I can wear right now, but I just bought a couple more.  None of them are expensive, I don't even want them to be expensive.  If it breaks, I don't want to be heartbroken because it's a precious gem, I want to find another that's more bling bling than the last.  I've never worn rings on anything but my ring fingers, but I'm really having fun with all the sparkly stuff.

I also had an amazing experience the other night.  If any of you are unsure that people's spirits remain with us in some fashion after they've died, I can tell you most certainly that they do.  There have been so many instances of this, but I'll share this one.  A couple of nights ago, I went to bed.  I was very sleepy that night.  I had heard something on TV before I went to bed and was thinking about Tim.  Not generally, but about his face.  I could see the crease on his forehead he had that I used to massage when his brow was furrowed, his brown eyes, how his soft, fine hair felt between my fingers when I massaged his head.  My eyes were closed and I was just using that vision to take me off to sleep.  I felt something touch my hair.  I opened my eyes and looked around the pillow, I thought a shirt or perhaps the cap I have on the bedpost had fallen down and onto my hair.  Nothing there.  And then I realized that as I was visualizing him, my Tim was touching me back.  I laid back down on my side as I had before and closed my eyes, and felt him touch my hair again as I went to sleep.      

Back home again.

My last blog post left off at my Florida/Georgia adventures, but that was before finding out that my flight back home was cancelled.  I called and got an earlier flight but when I showed up at the airport Sunday morning the earlier flight had been cancelled also.  I didn't feel bad about that--I was a feeling a little resentful that the airlines was taking away my last day with Angela.  I then found out that flights from every connecting city to the twin cities was cancelled.  Minnesota was in for a snowstorm that was potentially dropping 2 feet of snow.  I texted a few people that said at that early time, that the snow wasn't even starting yet, only about an hour later saying "it's snowing now--really HARD!".  My new flight out was Tuesday morning, so not only did I get my Sunday back, I got a bonus Monday too! 

Getting stuck in Georgia in 78 degree weather couldn't have happened during a better winter.  This winter has been one of the snowiest (is that a word?) in Minnesota history.  You can't see around a corner if your turning because of the mounds of snow.  The large pile of snow in my yard cleared from my driveway will probably melt by June.  Assuming it stops snowing sometime soon.  These are the rough days of winter.  I'm sure the snowmobilers are having a ball, but cabin fever sets in about February and you pray for at least a spell of relatively warm weather (40s or 50s) to at least give a glimpse of warmer days coming ahead.  We had that right before I left and while I was gone, only to have the slap of yet another snowstorm come right after. 

When I got home from my trip, my dog Cassi was so excited to see me.  She was beside herself and then began to follow me everywhere.  I drew the line at the bathroom door; she would look at me longingly, like there was some meaningful moment that she was needing to take part in in the bathroom.  I would say "really Cassi?", her head would go down like she understood that bathroom time is generally alone time and then plop down outside the door awaiting my exciting return.  The novelty of my return home has worn off now and we've gone back to a familiar relationship playing the outside/inside game.  It's a game she can play all weekend long unless at some time I go outside and do something where she can follow me around out there.  She also likes to play "bark at the ginormous flag the neighbors have"; that's a game that my son Ryan's dog Rylie taught her (no Rylie is not too bright).  Although without wind blowing the flag, that game just isn't that fun for long. 

I was surprised that once I got home and everybody left, I settled back into my house by myself (and the animals of course) and felt so content and happy to be back in my own space all by myself.  Not that I like to spend lots of time by myself, but I'm comfortable in my own skin and my own place to just feel contentment.  If I want to hang out with people, I have people but I don't need it to feel happy.  That was a revelation of sorts.  

So, I'm back home now.  It's snowing on and off again but I think that blast of warm weather will help me get through the rest of winter.  Not that I won't get sick of it like most other Minnesotans and long for days sitting on the deck in the sunshine, but I'll make it.  Maybe I'll dress up in my Carharts and sit on the deck.  :)    

 

More Florida-Georgia adventures

I have not traveled out of the midwest much in my life.  I'm not sure if that makes me uncultured or not, but we went to Michigan for our summer vacations growing up.  I missed out on the traveling, but building the relationships with family was a treasure and a gift that keeps on giving.  I find a wonderment in so many things when I go to another part of the country.  Here in Georgia there are many interesting things.  There are pecans everywhere.  And that's pronounced Pee-Canz for you non-Georgia people.  I was corrected by the woman at the place where we bought the regional goodies.  I was looking for peanut brittle, which is freaking fabulous here, but I didn't realize it was in the Peanut Brittle Aisle.  Where else would you go where there is a peanut brittle AISLE!  Everything you can think of making with citrus fruit, peaches, or nuts . . . jams, jellies, honey, fudge with orange, peach cider, pecan meal, honey roasted peanuts or pecans.  It's everywhere.  When you go out to eat, the waitresses call you honey or sweetie in their sweet as pie southern drawl.

Some things that people take for granted in a warm climate area too are part of the architecture everywhere.  In Angela's apartment building, the stairs to the upper level are open air.  Being from the midwest, I just think of how much snow would accumulate in that area or how cold it would be trying to get the door open with the key while the cold wind is whipping at your back.  The sidewalks down by the ocean are cement mixed with sea shells.  So many homes have porches, sometimes around the whole house, sometimes on both the bottom and top levels.  They almost always have rocking chairs on them.  There is Spanish moss hanging from almost all the trees.  Where it comes from or how it gets there, I don't know.      

One thing I thought was so funny and amazing is that when we went out for Mexican food, I had a margarita.  When we went to leave the waitress asked if I wanted one to go.  I said "one what?" and both Angela and Jon said "margarita".  You can get a MARGARITA TO GO!!  Don't know what the laws are here, but it's called open bottle in Minnesota and you get arrested or at least ticketed for that there.  So much for the problem of drinking and driving!

It's been so fun to be here and spend time with Angela.  She's so much like me it makes me laugh.  Two words are out of my mouth and she finishes the rest of the sentence.  The word I can't think of, she's got.  The parallels of her relationship with Jon and how my relationship with Tim was warms my heart.  It's a gift as a mother.  

I have to go back home tomorrow.  Back to winter.  It's so hard to believe when we've been walking around in our short sleeve shirts that it's February and it's not summer.  I walked down the BEACH in February.  I can't believe I'm going back to where it's winter.  But now I can make it through the rest of winter having experienced this little luxury of warm weather.  In fact, this scares the hell out of me enough I think to go home and get on that exercising that I've been thinking about so when this kind of weather comes to Minnesota I don't look how I look now!  A swim suit is mighty scary about now.

A little side note; the number of views on my blog has now passed the 500 mark.  Thank you!!!  I get excited to keep bringing y'all more posts.  Just a little saying I picked up down here.   
 

Florida/Georgia adventures

I'm now in St. Marys Georgia at my daughter Angela's house.  It's the morning after the big company sales conference in Florida.  Sales conferences are really a drinking event for professionals.  Professional drinkers I mean.  I have figured out a method of partying with these professionals so I experience all the fun, but other than being tired, not the hurt that comes with the morning after the events.  It's a pacing strategy really.  As the night goes on, mixing in the tall glasses of ice water is the key.  Substituting that for the drink with the alcohol multiple times (while others continue with the alcohol) does the trick.  Then you're on point for the toasts, possibly shots, and "special" drinks that come along the way, and yet there for the 8 am breakfast the next day.  I suppose that goes along with my Planner personality--even at a social event, there's always a plan.  That kind of makes me laugh at myself.  

After the conference, I picked up my rental car to drive up to Angela's.  I thought ahead (again the Planner) and bought a GPS so I would have it when I did this drive, not being at all familiar with Florida or Georgia.  Now there is a small issue with this plan. 

First, I get my car from a ramp.  In a ramp the GPS cannot "see" the satellites so I can't get the GPS to know where I am and start telling me where to go.  Second, in airports when you get your car, you exit the ramp and start driving directly onto the freeways.  I have no idea what direction I'm supposed to go because the GPS hasn't found the satellite yet even though I am now outside the ramp.  I can't exactly drive on the freeway in an unfamiliar place and program the GPS at the same time.  I'm a multi-tasker, but that is beyond my capabilities.  I'm feeling a little panic and trying to figure out where the hell I'm going.  There are no shoulders I can pull off the freeway onto to take the driving part out of the equation.  I go in the direction that seems logical and am trying to get the GPS to catch up to the warp speed my brain is going in to try and figure what to do next.  Then I am starting to calm down a little and I see the toll signs coming up.  OMG, where is my money!  I search through my wallet--a nickel and some pennies and am freaking out.  Wait . . . I put a bunch of change in my jacket in my computer backpack!  I grab the change and get through the first toll booth.  But where is the rest of my money?  There are more tolls coming up.  Oh that's right, I had it in another small purse I carried, in my suitcase now. 

Regroup, find a shoulder on this damn road!!!  I see a spot to pull over before the next toll booth.  I pull over, pick up the remnants of my wallet that I threw all over the car looking for change for the toll and put it all neatly back in.  I zip open my suitcase and grab the little purse and get my money out and put it in the cup holder so I have it handy.  Get out the bottle of water to just take a sip and get a little calmer.  I program the GPS to go to Angela's house and get back on the road.  Well that was fun, I hope the entire ride is slightly less eventful.  

It's always so interesting to me to drive in another area of the country.  The signs, the drivers, the style of the area all fascinating to me.  I want to just take in the atmosphere like I'm taking pictures in my mind.  I did find that most of the drivers in Florida that I encountered do not have an interest in the "cruise" feature of their vehicles.  It was such an odd sensation setting my cruise, having a car pull up along side me only to disappear from my view going behind me because the driver suddenly decided to go much slower for no apparent reason.  This happened so many times in my drive, it was humorous to me after a while.  The drivers also don't seem to like to go the speed limit, but they go slower not faster!!  I drove 4 miles over the speed limit because I had this vision of this Smokey and the Bandit cop pulling me over for speeding (that's not too stereo type I know) and I was always in the fast lane passing all the fluctuating speed drivers by the hundreds.  I saw cops everywhere, but they did not seem at all interested in the speed I was going.  

I now have an extreme interest in Georgia pecans and Florida citrus, but I think that's due to the power of suggestion of the road signs virtually every 3 minutes all the way here telling me of the awesome local fruit and nuts.  I arrived here safe and sound, took Angela and Jon out to dinner and had some fun conversation then came back to their place.  I didn't last too long before the Florida adventures caught up to me and I was one tired girl.  Down for the count.  

More adventures to come!         

Another day in the Journey

Life is so different for me now.  What a drastic change from life not so long ago.  I sometimes feel like I am an observer as well as a participant.  Because it's all so different, I need to learn some things from this new perspective.  Some realities that you live with when you are so connected and associated with others is so vastly different when you're on your own.  Some things are freedoms, but some things feel like umbrella of protection is gone.  Well maybe it's not gone, but it's a different kind of protection coming from different places and I have to reach out to get it. 

That's a big lesson I'm learning; that I have the protection from other people but asking for it is the key.  When I was married to Tim, I never had to tell him it was a bad day.  Because he knew everything about me, I would merely come in the door and he would look at me and know and ask.  So if I have a particularly bad day or just need to talk, I have to call one of my friends or family that are always there for me and talk to them.  That is against my nature--not so good at asking for help with anything really.  But I am learning because when I do reach out, I can go from a very dark place to feeling good and peaceful with where I'm at.  Sometimes, no matter how much I talk to myself about being OK, it's not a substitute for another human voice that know me so well leading me down the path back towards the light.  

I think too, that somehow I have a different expectation for male friends vs. female friends.  This is rather new territory from the vantage point of being single.  I haven't been single for a very long time and am really trying to avoid landmines that I now realize are there.  Everyone has baggage, and mine is tied to divorce rather than the time with Tim.  But those bags don't go away and even with the passage of time and the loving debriefing I went through with Tim to unlearn the unhealthy thoughts I carried, they still exist.  The trick is to recognize those thoughts as destructive and hold my male friends to the same level of friendship and support as my female friends.  If I start to feel those destructive thoughts because I don't feel I'm being treated well, then the friendship is not something I need to be a part of--whether a man or a woman.  I have worked too hard and Tim gave 10 years of love therapy to let me know that I was the most important person to him, and if I am not feeling important to any person, than it is not a good friendship to be in.  I am a damn good friend, and I deserve that in return. 

My view of the journey, as of today. 

Just stuff.

I need to learn that the beauty of a blog is that you don't have to have something great to write about, you just write.  My friend who taught me how to set up a blog teaches me that by my reading his blog.  Funny and entertaining, but not always about something specific, just thoughts on life or maybe just thoughts on the day. 

I have gotten sick twice in the last month.  I took great pride in my robust immune system up until now.  I haven't gotten so much as a virus in years.  I just seemed to miss all the bad ones.  I watched them as if a train was going by and I was simply a spectator.  When I got the first one, it was a cold virus and I had body aches but I was going to outsmart it.  I left early from work and rested the entire weekend.  By Monday, I had beaten it.  Further proof of my very strong immune system. 

Then, this past weekend, it betrayed me.  I had girls weekend all planned out, even took off an extra day.  It started late Friday with a little tightness in my chest.  Reminiscent of my younger years when I used to get those terrible bronchial colds, and at least once pneumonia.  I passed it off as nothing, I had no other symptoms of something coming on so I just scolded my lungs to stop feeling that way.  By Saturday, the cough was beginning, and it wasn't good.  It felt as though my lungs were screaming back at me.  I just kept doing the I'm Fine thing when the girlfriends would ask.  Sunday morning was the kicker.  When I stood up I got that little dizzy feeling.  Uh-oh.  When the girlfriends discovered how bad I really felt, they decided it was time for me to rest and for them to get the hell out of here before they got what I appear to have.  

There was one little hitch.  When one of the girlfriends came on Saturday, she got a little stuck in the driveway.  We've had a ton of snow here and it's easy to do.  So I put my boots and jacket on and we ventured out to get her out.  We push and shoveled and shoveled and pushed and eventually got her pushed out.  We are powerful girls!!  I came in, warmed up the corn bags, went upstairs to my bed--no couch for this kind of exhaustion, and absolutely collapsed on the bed and fell asleep.  Temp---101.5.  Yes, there's no other way to say it, I felt like shit.  

Monday I dragged myself to a doctor because I didn't want to get pneumonia again and got on antibiotics.  She thought since I was worsening that it was a bacterial infection and said I should feel better in 24 hours and do not go to work until I'm fever free for 24 hours (love this doctor).  So now it's Tuesday night and I am doing better, no fever today all day, but still quite weak. 

I would love to think my voice has that slightly raspy whispery sexy tone like Kathleen Turner, but the gasps from people I know that have called me tell me otherwise.  I just sound sick.  But the way this took me down has taught me something and forces me to get back on one of my new years resolutions . . . to go back to working out.  When I worked out, I didn't get sick.  I'll have to wait until I can breathe without sounding like I'm going to hack up a lung, but that's not going to be long.  I'm going to beat this and go back to being a spectator of those that "get stuff".      

2011

I want to start this post by saying thank you to those that read my blog.  I've had over 400 views and you can't imagine how good that makes me feel.  I will try and post things that are interesting/entertaining to read. 

It's been a crazy couple of months.  Holidays are fun and difficult all at the same time.  Right before Christmas Eve, Tim came to me in a dream.  I figured I would dream of him all the time after he passed, but not so.  This I think was a gift to me for Christmas, because Christmas Eve Day was always for just the two of us.  All of our kids were gone that night to the exes, so we always had a special dinner and got ready for the kids to come the next morning.  The dream was simply having him lying next to me.  I was massaging his face as I usually did to make him feel better or to lower his stress, or to as he used to say, paralyze him.  I could actually feel his whiskers and the little mole on his cheek that he would always cut himself shaving on.  It was so sweet and intimate and it was a gift to me to feel like he was there.  Of course the realization when I wake up and he's not actually there was a tough moment and translated into a tough day.  But the evening turned around to an appreciation of his having been there but at the same time the beginning of friends and family and the celebration of Christmas. 

And now it's 2011.  Time for resolutions and new starts.  I have the same resolution to lose the 20 or so lbs I resolve to lose every year.  I am registered for a 7K race in March which is truly Tim's spirit.  I'll be speed walking it, but it is a race and I kind of laugh every time I think about being in a race since I've not been in competetive sports ever in my life.  (See the Clumsy post a while back.)  I am looking forward now.  The memories burned in my mind and my memory are my comfort and my inspiration.  Who knows what I will do or accomplish this year.  It's a continued passion to continue to think outside the box and be open to where life will go this year and to help other women realize their potential.  

So, Happy New Year everybody.  Resolve to make this a banner year, make it your best and don't be limited by the box you think is there.