Monday, November 08, 2004


I marvel at the first of every month that it's here, that time goes so quickly the older I get.

Events this last week have made me do that, too--observe again how quickly things come and go.

Presidential elections: I remember the election of 1968, in which I missed voting (age was 21 then) by a mere two weeks, but I got special permission from the Dean of Students to stay out of the dorm until midnight-1 a.m. or so. I was news director at KMOE, our campus station, the first woman on the (paid) executive staff, and we covered the results. It was a very big deal on all counts, and I worked very hard to report the results from a professional, neutral viewpoint.

I supported George McGovern in 1972, and watched with tears in my eyes his defeat with a fellow AAUW member after our monthly meeting in my little Missouri town.

I remember voting for Jimmy Carter, with my baby girl in my arms.

Coursework: I finished today the second of two required courses for my real estate license, and wonder how it is that I've worked as an agent for nearly 18 months already. I can account for it all, transaction by transaction, but it's gone so quickly. We've been here nearly two years, in our house!

People: My frail little mother ended up in the hospital Friday -- first time in 2 years. She's okay and will go back to the nursing home soon, but she never comes back quite all the way. I remember so clearly how she was at MY age -- how active, busy, involved, pretty. It's hard to think I'll be 57 in just two weeks, and she's already 83-close-to-84. And it's been five years since Daddy died. (I still talk to him.) Two of their friends died this last week, too, and while I know in my head that dying is a part of the circle, it is hard to think of a world without these people in it.

It's fall here--another passing of the season, from hot and dry into cool and damp, from swamp cooler to wood stove, and it was within the same week that it happened! Christmas will be here and gone too soon.

And more: You can't MAKE people see reason and a good path, and I still (forever) have trouble with that. Egos get in the way of good judgement, and tempers flare. Makes me sad.

Our kittens are growing up: the inside boys were neutered last week. When they came to us, they couldn't have been much more than 4-5 weeks old -- tiny kittens dumped by the railroad tracks.

Makes me want to put my foot out and drag it, to slow things down a bit. I want to savor people, events, places, things a little more than I seem to have time to do. I want to hold them close in my mind's eye so I can go back to them when they're gone. I do that some now, but I want to do it more.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

It's all about relationships

Everything is. Family. Friends. Sales. When there are compatible people and similar expectations, it's just great, and it works, as long as everyone is willing to communicate honestly. But if one party blows that trust, it's pretty hard to retrieve, if even worth the effort.

The past few days have hammered that home: community relationships. Growing friendships. Once upon a time friendships that have deteriorated. Thankful-for-my-wonderful-husband relationships.

It's one of those sleep-elusive nights when the monkey mind takes over, and swings from relationships to to-do lists to regrets about stuff that is so far past that it everyone but me has probably forgotten about it.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Looking back

We had fun, Gina and I, talking today. It's been some nine years since I first met her, and it wasn't long before we hit it off despite the difference in our ages.

She taught me a lot -- I don't think I told her that! She watched the 'new' me emerge over those few years, showed me some Web sites, played me music I'd not listened to, and was a kindred soul in that office, hotbed of conservatism that it was. Thanks.

I don't even feel like the same person I was then. So much has changed in my life and my outlook! And how grateful I am.

Monday, October 11, 2004

A fresh piece of paper

in the typewriter. That's what this feels like, this blogging.

I used to love that newness, that anticipation of writing, of creating: I'd put a clean, white sheet into the auto feed of the IBM Selectric (or whatever typewriter I had at the time), or roll it in manually. Reach for the cigarettes and light one, ashtray placed to my right, next to the full cup of coffee I'd just poured. And then contemplate that blank page. Once I started, the cigarette burned to ash, the coffee cooled, and my fingers flew. And paused on the keys sometimes, while I read what I'd written.

So here it is, out there for just anyone to find (or be invited to view).

We'll see how this goes. For now, it's a fresh start.