New Headshot

I needed a headshot for my new position as accompanist of Stambaugh Chorus. My talented Jaci kindly took a few pics of me. Here's the result—what do you think?

Check out Jaci's blog to see more of her work. Became a fan on Facebook. Hire her to photograph your wedding or pregnant belly or baby or other memory-making event. You'll have an image to treasure for lifetimes to come.

P.S. Here's the bio on the Stambaugh Chorus site.

Peckin' Away

Look at this gorgeous guy! One morning last week I glanced out the kitchen window and saw a bird rat-tat-tatting on the porch shade that the Jazzman found in the basement and installed. Yesterday we were sitting on the porch with the newspaper and our cups of tea, and there he was again. After a few minutes of googling, I learned he is a Downy Woodpecker.

At first I thought Hairy Woodpecker, and I loved the name! But after reading and searching a little more, I settled on the smaller Downy Woodpecker.

Here is more photography by Terry Sohl, to whom the photo shown above is credited.

Enjoy!

Sadness is a Tantrum

Listening to Byron Katie on Rosie Radio (Sirius/XM) yesterday, I heard her say, "Sadness is a tantrum." I stopped to think how much sadness I've felt in my life. Then I thought about tantrums and how my mother despised seeing children in stores throwing tantrums. Were my feelings of sadness my attempts at throwing tantrums?

I don't know that I ever tried to throw a tantrum, but I know there would have been absolutely no way she would have allowed it. My children, likewise, didn't throw tantrums, but had they, I would have attempted to immediately stop it. My life as a mother was patterned upon my mother's practices—on the whole, not a very well-designed pattern.

During my years in psychotherapy in my 30s, my therapist said she was not surprised that I became a computer programmer. There was little in my life I was allowed to control, but as a programmer, I could control the computer.

Much of my sadness as an adult has centered around being alone and not having life turn out the way I expected, dreamed, or wanted. Sadness would wash over me as a marriage was ending, or when I felt life was hopeless. It would feel like a heavy, dark boiled wool hooded cape. Heavy. Dark.

The only sadnesses I've felt lately are when I feel I've disappointed someone. All in all, life now—in my 60s—has turned into a very different movie than I ever anticipated.

How unnecessary is sadness in your life?

I'll leave you with a Byron Katie quote regarding happiness:

You don't have to believe everything your thoughts tell you. Just become familiar with the particular thoughts you use to deprive yourself of happiness.

Who Are You? Really?

Anyone who has read this blog for, oh, longer than two weeks knows I am defined by my adoption. The perceived abandonment follows me everywhere, through marriages and jobs, into dreams and nightmares. It is who I am.

Lately I've been hearing a lot about a woman who is known as Byron Katie. Her Web site states,

The Work of Byron Katie is a way of identifying and questioning the thoughts that cause all the fear and suffering in the world.

In one of the radio shows I was listening to this week, the host—a great proponent of adoption—was talking about how Ms. Katie's work helps people stop focusing on the negatives of long, long ago. She enables them to, instead, build upon all they've accomplished in their lives to see who they truly are today.

Someone said Katie's work is similar to—in the same vein as—Marianne Williamson's work with "A Course in Miracles". I've heard and read some of Williamson's information, have heard her on the radio, and am familiar with the concept of positive affirmations, but for me affirmations just do not ring true. I feel like I'm trying to pull something over on myself, trying to trick myself into believing something that's just not valid.

I want to learn more about Katie and see what her work can do to set free some of the gremlins that roam around my brain.

It can't hurt, right?

(Today's photo was in a large box of photos I brought back from Mother's apartment. It was taken in late 1950, after my family got me in late June of 1950. I was five or six months old in this photo. Jim is five years old. Jerry is seven. The picture was taken in the living room of the house they were living in at the time, on Westminster St. off N. Orange Avenue, near what was then Orlando Sanitarium & Hospital. Six months later we moved into the house on Lake Maitland, where we lived until I went away to college.)

Mother's New Digs

Happy birthday to my sister-in-law, Molly, who is the genius behind how beautiful Mother's new apartment looks!

(Scroll down if you don't immediately see the pictures on your screen. I'm having a hard time getting this page to format correctly. Oh well!)

Sorting a Lifetime

I know I said I'd post again last night, but I don't have my feet on the ground yet after the whirlwind trip to North Carolina. I'm exhausted!

I'm sure there's some minor depression that's helping keep me so tired. Last night as I was going to bed, all I could think about was Mother spending the first night in her new digs. Because of the size of the place, we've switched her from a queen bed to a twin. How different to know you'll spend the rest of your nights in a twin bed after years and years of queens and kings.

Today's photo shows you what Mother's guest room looked like during my visit. We kept putting furniture in there that is coming back to Ohio so the movers would have an easier time on Thursday (yesterday). I can identify many of the items as being from the Maitland house where I grew up or the Spring Valley house where they moved when I went away to college. Going through Mother's possessions is like walking backwards through my life.

I can't say enough about the good work my sister-in-law, Molly, has done during the course of the past two years. And in the past week, Molly was an absolute genius—"take this, not that". Molly was in Mother's closet for fully two hours on Monday night, pulling and setting aside enough clothing to leave Mother with twelve linear feet of clothing on hangers. On Tuesday night, Molly spent another two hours in the closet pulling outfits together and hooking the hangers together. Thanks to all Molly's hard work, Mother will now be able to reach into the closet and pull out an outfit, not struggle to find two things that will go together.

But back to the original intent of this post: a brief recap of the week.

I left Youngstown around 8:30 last Saturday, stopped at Starbucks to cash in my birthday coupon for a mocha to sip while driving, and arrived in Hendersonville around 5:30. I stopped along the way at Tamarack to pick up something lovely for Molly's birthday and settled on a fabulous mug by WV clay artist Keith Lahti. I hit bad rain in Virginia and stopped at one point to close my eyes for a few minutes. As soon as I arrived at Mother's, we left to go to Blue Sky Cafe for some supper.

Sunday was totally devoted to sorting, culling, and packing. And preparing to sew. My primary purpose during this visit was to cut down her existing window treatments to fit the windows in the new apartment. The pleated valance over her patio door needed to be extended about eight inches. The gathered valance in the bedroom had to be cut down about twelve inches. Molly—another accomplished sewist—and I kept tossing ideas around and finally came up with a plan.

Monday I went to the Ace Hardware and got a 1"x6"x8' board which I covered with an old sheet. Then I took out several of the pleats and remade them. With my new staple gun, I attached the valance to the board. It's not perfect, but I'm probably the only person who would see the little glitch in one pleat. On the gathered valance, I thought we could just gather it more tightly onto a new rod, but Molly suggested I cut out one section and just reseam it. I took her advice, then realized that a rod pocket can't accept a rod if there's a seam in the middle of it! Knowing no one would see it, and knowing this valance only needs to last for a couple of years at most, I cut two holes in the back of the rod pocket and snaked the rod out and back in. Then I sewed a little patch across the exposed rod so the valance would gather properly. "Necessity is the mother of . . ." Oh yeah, "invention"!

My brother Jerry arrived around 12:30 on Monday and we went en masse to visit Mother's new place, Spring Arbor West (SAW). It's a very nice facility with under 40 residents. There's a lovely dining room, a café one can reserve to entertain guests or throw a small party, a game room, a library, and a light and bright sunroom with lots of white wicker and a television for watching movies. Mother's room is at the end of one of the halls, with a four-person game table situated right outside her door. Molly and Jim did a great job in choosing this place, I believe. I hope Mother will be happy there, but we'll never know—one way or the other—as this is not a person who ever discusses her feelings. About anything!

I finished the drapery alterations late Monday night. Tuesday I took the valances and rods and a few delicate items out to Spring Arbor West. Once I got out there and unloaded the paintings and clock, I realized I had forgotten the drapery hardware! (Let me clarify that the current apartment and the new apartment are about 15-20 miles apart!) I had to rush back to Fletcher Park Inn (FPI) for a 3:00 party to say goodbye to the FPI executive director who is changing jobs—she's the new executive director of Spring Arbor West! How wonderful that Mother will know someone there! The FPI management used the party to also say goodbye to Mother. I ducked out midway through and raced back out to SAW to drop off the hardware and give instructions for its installation. Then back to FPI and an evening of packing and loading Jaci's van until I just couldn't take another step.

Wednesday morning I left around 8:00, stopping only for gas and food until I got to Beckley, where I had to make another stop to buy two more of the Lahti mugs. I figured I had earned them! After a fabulous fried tomato sandwich for lunch, I tackled the rest of the trip, stopping once to nap for ten minutes. I hit horrible thunderstorms in northern West Virginia, and got home around 7:30. The Jazzman and I had hoped to go to a concert at 7:00 at Mill Creek Park, where one of his cousins was playing in a band, but his late work schedule and my long drive deemed that an impossibility.

Once home, I unloaded the car, poured a glass of wine, and collapsed. In two weeks or so, I've got to do it all over again, packing up everything that's left in the apartment and getting it loaded onto a moving van to bring it back here. I've known for years that this day was coming, but I'm in a state of shock now that it's finally here!

So there you go. A short trip that felt very long and was filled to overflowing with emotions.

May my children never have to go through this sort of exercise with me!

LT + SS = E*

*Long Trip plus Stressful Situation equals Exhaustion. I was so deeply grateful for Jas to walk in and wrap his arms around me last evening. Stressful events such as moving an elderly parent into assisted living do not constitute happy family times.

I just wanted to report that I'm home and will write a more extensive post this evening. In the meantime, I publicly thank Jaci for loaning me her van and I show you how packed it was for the return trip!

More later … .