me

do what you love

I’m in existential crisis. It sounds ridiculous to say, but it’s true. I’m struggling with the difference between a job and a calling.
From the time I was a little girl, I’ve always felt I as meant to spend my time with little children. As a mom, as a teacher. But I’m beginning to wonder if that’s my actual calling. I’m experiencing feelings that the time has come to “hang up my spurs”. The part that gives me pause is the fact that I can’t clearly identify from where those feelings come. I keep thinking if I could understand the why I could apply logic to it and be able to make a more informed decision.
I don’t know where these feelings started, it’s not that I’m tired or whatever, it goes beyond that. It’s deep in my gut. And if I’ve learned anything in forty three years of life, it’s that my gut is NEVER wrong. My brain can argue both sides until I’m completely lost. My heart knows what it wants and will stop at nothing to have it’s way. But my gut just ‘knows’. I’ve learned to trust that instinct, because when I haven’t I’ve paid the price.

So I’m hearing the gut feeling, but don’t know what it means exactly, neither do I know how to articulate what I’m feeling. Hence the crisis of existence.
I’m sad. I’m confused. I’m frustrated that I can’t figure it out. (Have I mentioned patience isn’t at the top of my skills list?)
I feel so strongly about early childhood education. About what’s best for children.
I’m not so sure I’m what’s best for children.

I am so sad about this situation. It’s absolutely consuming me.
I was in the car with YBW last night and he said: Are you OK.
I shrugged and said: Yeah.
He asked: Are you sure.
I asked: What do you want me to say?
He said: You just look so sad.
I replied: I am sad.

I’m sad because I don’t know what to do with the feelings I know I have to trust.
What do I want to do?
Ideally I’d like to be able to write or take photos to earn my living.
What inspires me?
Children.
Do what you love.
I love to write.
I love to take photos.
I love children.

YBW expressed his concern about me leaving this job I’m spectacularly good at for some random job. He has a valid point. I oughtn’t “jump out of the frying pan into the fire”.
There really is no solution at the moment. I need to understand the ‘why’ so I can figure out how to proceed.

Le sigh. Le really big sigh.
See how I get nowhere?
I’m walking away from the vehemence of my gut’s opinion. I’m just going to be in the moment.

Categories: education, me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I bought a new (old) book today!

Normally when I spend a rather large chunk of change I experience that feeling of buyer’s remorse.
Not today!
I woke to photos of a first edition book I’ve been considering.
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I’ve always maintained that The Great Gatsby was my favorite book. But I’ve been thinking more and more about books I love, and realized that The Secret Garden might be my favorite after all…or it could be that I’ve just been thinking more about it because YBW sneakily purchased that litographs.com Secret Garden tee for me.
Perhaps I just can’t have one favorite book…I simply love too many to choose between them. Favorite or not, the original British publication of The Secret Garden has been purchased and is being shipped to me.
My joy is HUGE!

The wonderful ladies of Pioneer Books in Adelaide, Australia went out of their way to provide me with photos to ease my mind about plunking down that much money on a book sight unseen.
I’ve spent the better part of the week emailing back and forth with Cathy. As I learned about their story in our emails I became even more inclined to purchase from them. Their bookshop is almost as old as I am, was started by Cathy’s father, and since his death, is run by the two sisters and their mother. I have added Pioneer Books to my “bucket list” of places I’d like to go. I want to meet these ladies and personally thank them, for their patience and willingness to go out of their way to help me with my purchase. I want to see what Cathy’s father created and spend time among the books, and talking with this family.
I might not ever make it to see them personally, but I discovered they blog right here on wordpress! So I can check in with them from time to time, and that might be good enough. Check them out here: https://pioneerbooks.wordpress.com/about

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in lieu of a nap

YBW’s mom is leaving her apartment in the fancy retirement building for a much smaller one in the next door assisted living building. We’ve spent the last two days helping her sort what to take, what to leave behind, and dividing things between our family and YBW’s brother’s family. I adore YBW’s brother, but he is inept at packing, loading and moving. So much so, that I could do nothing but stand, mouth agape when I opened the back of the truck to find such disarray, and the china cabinet tipped over, glass broken into a cardillion pieces. 

That’s when I started running the show. I’m in NO way “tooting my own horn” here. I’ve packed and moved enough times that I’ve got a particular knack for it. The fierce compulsion for order doesn’t hurt when it’s time to organize. I’ve felt the need to tread very softly through this process as it’s complicated enough without “the new girl” trying to run the show. YBW did call me Wonder Woman and praise my mad skills. (I totally heart him!)

Now it’s all over, I’m feeling a bit puny. I’m tired, have a wicked bruise on my right thigh and a little achey all over. We grabbed dinner on the way home where I murdered a gigantic cheeseburger and drank a really tall beer. We talked about wanting a nap, but realized it was simply too late to try that today. My solution is a tubby full of hot water and my iPad to binge a bit of House of Cards. I’m just dying to see what the Underwoods are up to. 

Bed will soon follow and I’m going to sleep as long as humanly possible tomorrow. (Which for me, most likely means till 7:30.) Thats OK, it’s still later than my normal 5:00.

More “wintery mix” is in out forecast tomorrow and I’m going to lie low, possibly organize my new bookshelf, and lie low some more. This week was shite and I deserve it. 

Categories: love, me | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

sometimes you just don’t need words

This pretty much sums me up.
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I’m not feeling an overabundance of clever words this morning, but I do see something pretty. Snow is falling steadily making everything white. It’s absolutely beautiful and I do love it.
Rarely do I consider pretty things over clever words…but today I humbly accept the simple beauty of the snow and realize I don’t need words.

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snowy day

I absolutely adore snowy days!
It’s so beautiful right now. Out the window, I can see big fat flakes coming down fast and furiously. (That doesn’t show in the photo so you’ll just have to trust me.)
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I’m sitting by the fire, Property Brothers playing quietly on the TV, but I’m ready to pour more wine and get in the tubby.
YBW is in his office at the computer.
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I think I’ll invite him to join me.
I love being “snowed in”.

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cold as balls

Sundance sent this as commentary on our weather:

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Thanks to the folks at DC 101 (a local radio station) for their sense of humor.
Thanks to Sundance for knowing it would tickle me.

Stay warm, y’all!

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#itsallminenowbitches!

I finally started going through the boxes from my mom’s. I’ve found photos from when my mom was a little girl, when Grandaddy was still in the Navy looking so handsome in his whites. I especially love a photo of the two of them in the side yard of the house where we (she and then years later, I) grew up.
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I opened a box that turned out to be filled with framed photographs. The very top one I opened was this one of my mom. It hung above Grandaddy’s chair ever since I can remember. I wore this dress to homecoming one year. I asked her husband about this photo specifically and he was unsure about it’s whereabouts. I opened the box and unwrapped the very first photo and said: SCORE! (I said this out loud even though I was alone in the room.)
I immediately texted this pic to Sundace with the following: #itsminenowbitches!
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I never use hashtags, but this seemed the perfect way to express my satisfaction.

I’ve mostly smiled and laughed at the items I’ve unpacked but there was one thing that brought me tears. It may seem silly, but it was Grandaddy’s wallet. Exactly the same as it was when he died in 1992. Filled with pics of my little brother and me.
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His “Washington Shopping Plate”, a sky blue credit card that was accepted by:
Hecht’s
Jelleff’s
Kann’s
Labsburgh’s
Raleigh’s
Woodie’s
Garfinkel’s
His Bloomingdale’s card.
(Can you tell he and I liked to go shopping together?)

His driver’s license was still in his wallet, expiring in 1993 at the mark of his eightieth year of life. Unfortunately he didn’t make it to his birthday that year.

Until Thing 2 was moved into the NICU before she was even eight hours old, the worst day of my life was the day we buried my beloved Grandaddy. I miss him every single day. He was the first man I ever loved. I was mad about him and from the stories, he was just as mad about me. Not a day goes by that I don’t treasure what he taught me, the love he gave me, I’ve carried with me my whole life.

I sat on a little wicker and wooden stool all day yesterday and for a few hours this morning going through boxes, setting aside items for Thing 1 and Thing 2. I called Thing 1 when I discovered the long lost recipe for apple butter and she laughed and cried at the same time.
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I saved all the old recipe boxes for her. Her love of cooking will be furthered by the recipes of her grandmother and great grandmother.

I’m dead tired but I’m excited to see what’s next. Perhaps a box or two each day until they’re all unpacked.
I’m waiting for the thing I want most…the flag from Grandaddy’s coffin. It’s in there somewhere…and it’s mine.
It’s ALL mine now!

Categories: love, me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Happy Friday!

I’ve had a hellish week but this song changed my mood this morning so I wanted to share it with you!
Happy Friday!

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no tiny wine plant in here

YBW and I made a whirlwind thirty-six hour weekend trip to NYC to see Alan Cumming in Cabaret and I documented the trip via Snapchat. It was out of character for me to not pull out the Lumix…but I felt playful and wanted to do something completely different.

Thing 2 sent this in reply to a pic of YBW and me in the security line:
Screenshot_2015-01-10-07-38-42
(A tiny wine plant being a reference to the movie French Kiss.)

To which I replied:
Screenshot_2015-01-10-12-39-17

I sat in the absolute worst spot waiting to board the plane:
Screenshot_2015-01-10-12-40-55
(A la the knight in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.)

We rode the E train from JFK to 7th Avenue:
Screenshot_2015-01-10-12-43-07
(Their subway is FOUL!)

Checking in at the Wellington:
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Walking through the park just the other day baby. Whaddya, whaddya think I saw?:
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(It was 12 degrees but we loved it.)

A trip to the Met after the long walk through the park wore us out…we sat in the floor for a while, YBW Ingressed and I gave my still healing foot a rest.
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Our view was pretty though:
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Dinner before the play. Two pints of my beloved Harp:
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(From BBC’s Coupling, but Sally and Patrick had martinis not beer.)

The Kit Kat Klub at Studio 54:
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(YBW asked me not to take pics while Alan Cumming was on stage so as not to get us thrown out, please and thank you.)

Whirlwind but SO MUCH FUN!

I’m glad I’m writing again.
After a three month term break, I’m back to school…
My co-teacher and I are committed to bringing Dot to life…
These things will take time, but I will MAKE time to write…for me and for you.

Life isn’t always a cabaret old chum, but we can leave our troubles outside.

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every picture tells a story

I’m going through photos from our summer trip to Memphis to create a collage for the naked walls in the basement and I came across this one.

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This man works as a ticket taker at Autozone Park where the Memphis Redbirds call home. He fascinated me and I shot a couple of pics of him as we were entering the park.

I captured him in a moment between laughter and conversations with spectators, some of whom he knew personally. It was a perfect accident to catch him in this brief moment of quiet thought.
I love his face.
I don’t even pretend to imagine what this man has experienced in his life. But I suspect he’s done it well.

The Redbirds kicked the holy hell out of the Kansas City Cyclones that night. YBW and I drank quite a bit of beer and the Redbirds catcher tossed a foul ball up to Thing G.
It was a great night at the ballpark. But that man is what I remember most when I think about that night. He fascinated me.

It’s been said that every picture tells a story.
This man moved me enough to take his picture.
I’ll never know his story, but I have his photograph and that is enough for me.

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