tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482778246375098482024-02-20T04:21:37.301-05:00Creative Muse JournalMusings about writing, chronic illness, animals, and life.Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-55549290403351484592011-04-04T16:00:00.013-04:002011-04-04T18:50:10.772-04:00April is National Poetry Month!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When it comes to writing, poetry has always been my first love. In honor of National Poetry Month, I thought I'd share some of my favorite poets and poems with you, including a few of my own.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Several years ago, I read an article about "Taking Flight" in which the phrase "rare bird" was mentioned. It reminded me of an English professor I had in college. No matter how badly we stumbled when reading aloud, or how poorly we answered his questions, he always found a way to encourage us and make us feel we had potential. "Jonesy" flew the bonds of earth many years ago, but through this poem, I can see him once again flitting about our classroom, trying to teach a young nest full of English majors how to fly. I wrote this poem in March, 2005, based on an incident from a class in the late 1960s. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The name "Miss White" is fictitious.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Geoffrey Chaucer was a 14th century poet and author, and is referred to as the Father of English Literature. He is perhaps best known for <i>The Canterbury Tales, </i>a collection of short stories told by travelers to entertain one another while on their journey.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "A Rare Bird"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/72/Geoffrey_Chaucer_%2817th_century%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="File:Geoffrey Chaucer (17th century).jpg" border="0" height="200" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/72/Geoffrey_Chaucer_%2817th_century%29.jpg" width="159" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anon. 17th c. portrait G. Chaucer<br />
(Wikipedia public domain)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A rare bird, lanky, toothless, gaunt,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">he perched before his callow clutch,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and from one scrawny, gray-tipped</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> wing,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">dangled Chaucer, like a juicy worm,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">before our unfledged eyes and ears.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"How old is Absalom...Miss White?"</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've never been much good at this</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">so to his, "Come on, take a guess,"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"From thirty-five to sixty-eight?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I lamely peep, embarrassed, now.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canadian Geese<br />
photo by Donna B. Russell</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He cocks his head, all smiles, and coos,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Can you narrow that a little? No?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He bobs across the room and nods.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another nestling quickly chirps</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">a more precise, correct response.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then turning, he commends us both,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and I am left perplexed, that he</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">would remove the sting of my distress.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But wisdom knows that confidence</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">is the lift on which young wings will soar.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> * * *</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How about you? Did you have a special teacher or professor who made an impact on your life? Please share your comments.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"> <br />
</span></span>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-26643226219763447002011-03-12T17:00:00.042-05:002011-03-12T22:23:09.902-05:00Signs of Spring?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I sit and look out the window at mountains of snow piled in every available spot in our apartment complex, it's hard to imagine that spring begins this month--at least on the calendar.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">March 8: Residents help dig out the last car.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(Photo by Donna B. Russell)</span></span></span></div></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And, yet, there are signs. Yesterday, on the way to the doctor's office for my annual physical, we noticed that the ice on the bay is beginning to wear thin, and there were actually rather large, green patches of grass in several yards as we passed by. We even saw a big fat Robin Redbreast perched on a mound of snow! (Alas, I didn't have my camera with me.)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mardi Gras memories: Sarah, Davy, Jen<br />
(Photo by David A. Russsell)</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mardi Gras has come and gone, and the countdown to Easter has begun as evidenced by the ads on TV featuring the Cadbury bunny, and the pastel M&Ms and jelly beans in the stores. We're also counting down the final five weeks until the birth of our first grandchild, which means Gramma had better get busy finishing that sweater! As you can see, one side of the front is finished (and I have started on the other side).</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Making progress</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Photo by Donna B. Russell)</span></td></tr>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I've also received a couple of seed catalogs in the mail--always a sign of spring. I used to enjoy growing my own tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, radishes, swiss chard, etc. When the kids were little, we called it "growing a salad." I still love the smell and feel of digging in the dirt, although I can no longer keep up a garden. Instead, I'm thinking of growing a few things in containers this year. For the rest, I'll frequent our local vegetable stands and farmers' markets for fresh, organic produce.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=151">Image: Suat Eman / FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a></span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And, while I'm thinking about spring, and dirt, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just joined Sharon Lovejoy's "Grimy Hands Girls Club." If you'd like to know more about the club, or about Sharon, who is also </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the author of</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Toad Cottages & Shooting Stars: A Grandma's Bag of Tricks</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, among others,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> please visit her website at http://www.sharonlovejoy.com/CultivatingWonder/Home.html or her blog at http://sharonlovejoy.blogspot.com.</span></span></span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What are you doing to get ready for Spring?</span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-64271198707180819622011-02-27T14:42:00.004-05:002011-02-27T15:27:56.951-05:00Remembering My Father--"The Longest Night"<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">[As I prepare to become a grandmother for the first time, I am thinking today of my father, who died on this date in 1962. I think of all the things he never got to see me do--learn to drive, sing in the choir, play in the high school band. He never got to read my articles in the high school newspaper, or guide me through the teen years, witness my first prom and graduation from high school, then college. He didn't get to meet the man I married, walk me down the aisle and give me away, nor see my children and watch them grow up. And, yet, in a way, I feel like he has been watching over me all these years. The following is an article I wrote last year (unchanged except for updating the number of years), which includes a poem I wrote about the night he died. When you lose a loved one, you learn how to cope, how to adjust, because life goes on, and because you must; but you never forget because they are a part of you.]</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Today is the anniversary of my father's death forty-nine years ago. He died the day before my oldest brother's birthday, and just two and a half weeks before mine. My father had rarely been sick, and had never missed work due to illness. He always said that the day he couldn't go to work was the day he would die.</span></span></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGS4xf4-ez4gcngM5HJDZ6rkQB5OLLZbc_30EqufiqpUgBUS_Ljf1MZUCq1Z6QslmjwHBURmMIE4JAY2kHsMW5nZ28vlDO7sZeC0JLEBLixjSFoi0pRUMR_bWJk7nWT0GiWg5wJ8E-YoVL/s1600/My+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGS4xf4-ez4gcngM5HJDZ6rkQB5OLLZbc_30EqufiqpUgBUS_Ljf1MZUCq1Z6QslmjwHBURmMIE4JAY2kHsMW5nZ28vlDO7sZeC0JLEBLixjSFoi0pRUMR_bWJk7nWT0GiWg5wJ8E-YoVL/s320/My+Dad.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That morning, I remember my mother calling to me, worry and urgency in her voice. When I emerged from my bedroom, my father was sitting on the bathroom floor, my mother steadying him so he wouldn't fall over. She told me to take her place while she ran to the phone to call for an ambulance. He had vomited blood, then collapsed from weakness. Two weeks earlier, he had been diagnosed with what the doctor thought was the flu and told to stay home from work and go to bed. Today, it was clear that something much more than the flu was wrong with him, and what he'd said about not being able to go to work went through my mind.</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For years, my father had been plagued by heartburn. Today, he most likely would have been given medication to treat his symptoms and protect his esophagus, but back then he was told to take an antacid, such as Tums, and cut out spicy foods. He was rushed to the hospital, tests were done, and we received the diagnosis--cancer of the esophagus. Surgery was the only thing that might save his life, and the odds were 80/20 against him. But when the doctors opened him up, the odds dropped to zero--every organ in his body, except his heart, had been invaded by cancer. The doctors said they were amazed he had kept going as long as he did, and that there was nothing they could do. They closed him up, returned him to his room, and the family took up vigil at the foot of his bed, waiting for him to wake up. He never did.</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I remember sitting in his darkened room with my mother, my three brothers, and my aunt. I remember the nurse speaking to my father, trying to wake him from the anesthesia. I remember the sound of his breathing, the sounds of monitors to which he was connected, and the sound of the clock on the wall. When he stopped breathing, all of the other sounds stopped, too...except for the ticking of that clock. In addition to losing my father, I felt I had lost my sense of security, as well as my childhood.</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Longest Night</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I was thirteen,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I sat beside my mother</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">at the foot of his bed,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">listening to the steady</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">of the clock on the wall,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">to the steady</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">drip - drip - drip of the IV,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br />
</span></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">the s t e a d y</span></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">R I S E</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and f a l l</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as the lungs</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">F I L L</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, e m p t y, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">F I L L</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as the nurse takes his pulse,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as the light outside grays to dusk,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">blackens to night,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as the steady</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">of the clock on the wall</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">counts out my father's life</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">second by second,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as the drip - drip - drip - of the IV goes on,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the breathing becomes labored</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the chest </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">RISES . . .</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">p a u s e s . . .</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> fa l l s,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and the lungs begin shutting down</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as the nurse takes his pulse again</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and shakes her head,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and the steady t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">of the clock goes on,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the chest </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">R I S E S </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. . . f a l l s . . . stops,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as the nurse removes the IV,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and shakes her head,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the light of my childhood</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">grays to dusk,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">blackens to night,</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and he's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">gone</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">--Donna B. Russell</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">© March 30, 2005</span></span></div></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-24593433321483705582011-02-06T03:07:00.005-05:002011-02-06T03:39:33.679-05:00Fast Away the [New] Year Passes...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Fast away the old year passes..." So says </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the Christmas carol, "Deck the Halls," and I think we'd all agree. But it feels like the new year is rapidly passing away, too. Where did January go?</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASELtSe9nQHdrYZ4UbIKnGZwUVUb9fYhOVSv95sNUPO1PjHW0PMikUTAh7mBssVcNobyf42zcvi8nfK5l8K-kn9vJRJheapM7ykUE4YTDaPViNMUZMiktxiqDI7u5YvZReEJJqmF4QXcv/s200/Janus+Wikipedia+stock+photo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bust of Janus - Vatican Museum/Public Domain</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASELtSe9nQHdrYZ4UbIKnGZwUVUb9fYhOVSv95sNUPO1PjHW0PMikUTAh7mBssVcNobyf42zcvi8nfK5l8K-kn9vJRJheapM7ykUE4YTDaPViNMUZMiktxiqDI7u5YvZReEJJqmF4QXcv/s1600/Janus+Wikipedia+stock+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">January, named for the Greek god Janus, who had two heads--one facing backward toward the past, the other facing forward to the future--is when most of us set "resolutions" or "goals" for the coming year. To do that, we reflect on the year that has just ended, see how much progress (or not) we've made on last year's goals, and what areas still need work. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The idea here is not to beat ourselves up over our failures, but to take the lessons we've learned from them and build on those. There will be some things we will need to "let go" of, but it's not always easy deciding what to carry into the new year with us, and what to purge.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few months ago, my son and daughter-in-law decided to leave Chicago and spend the winter in Mexico. To accomplish this goal, they had to make some hard decisions about what they could keep and what they had to leave behind or sell. Reducing their possessions to what would fit into two suitcases was both a challenge and a sacrifice. But after storing a few things, packing the essentials, and selling the rest, they headed south of the border to fulfill a dream. (You can read their story at www.incredibleself.com and click on the "About" and "Blog" tabs.)</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6KRsKvZoeVH7JBIfQGyUN8zDNodsJ90N7MO03Yop404DFrolK4fQMlVA7Bxz4Y_iW87V0xjJ3tkVvc_EnnYUF3w7Yec7m3Uxc3LFpHFyo69WAZpofPwMnPHB9WYR9TJmAXnKpXQt6LVEk/s1600/About-us-pic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6KRsKvZoeVH7JBIfQGyUN8zDNodsJ90N7MO03Yop404DFrolK4fQMlVA7Bxz4Y_iW87V0xjJ3tkVvc_EnnYUF3w7Yec7m3Uxc3LFpHFyo69WAZpofPwMnPHB9WYR9TJmAXnKpXQt6LVEk/s320/About-us-pic1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Davy and Tracy (photo by Davy Russell)</td></tr>
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</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The older I get, the less "baggage" I want to carry around. I don't want to waste precious energy on things that hold me back, drag me down, or generate negativity. I want to travel light entering the new year. So, I have adjusted my goals for 2011 accordingly.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of my biggest challenges is paper. I read 90-100+ books a year, plus magazines, newsletters, and online blogs, e-newsletters, e-mail, articles, etc. Paper multiplies in my household, and I have found that it is my biggest source of clutter. Last year, I began sorting through and throwing out; but there's still a long way to go. So, I decided that one of my goals for this year would be to only subscribe to those publications I have time to read--both online and in print. Those that accumulate unopened, will not be renewed, no matter how good a deal is offered. If I'm paying for something that is going into the recycle bin unread, it's NOT a bargain! Several January invitations to subscribe to publications have already found their way into my recycle box or shredder.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Similarly, I decided to only buy the print and paper editions of books that have some special value to me, such as those by my favorite authors that I wish to collect, or those that have some other lasting significance such as books on writing, or books needed for learning a new language or skill. As I sort through my books this year, I hope to donate or recycle the vast majority of them. For all other books and publications, I'll use the Kindle I received for Christmas. I have already donated the first batch of books, and the Kindle is earning its keep.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another goal was to greatly reduce the use of credit cards. This means paying off credit card balances on a monthly basis (or, if unable to do this, to pay more than the minimum), and planning ahead and saving up for things instead of whipping out the plastic. Credit cards will be used for emergencies (and, hopefully, there won't be too many of those this year) or for purchases that can be paid in full when the statement arrives. Seeing those "zero" interest charges is a great morale boost!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSG74wtxuF0r9tZiaXBywf8iQYBb5lOGli8dfLbrMDmx5VC5KXhu6xrh0cX4vmawxrDQKP7C74OCS-C8L8hT0imizgj4y4g1pWXJnfa9reTjHiDfERjoFRbFw5lA9c07JbDAGRADdgGfgU/s1600/Yarn+for+baby+sweater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSG74wtxuF0r9tZiaXBywf8iQYBb5lOGli8dfLbrMDmx5VC5KXhu6xrh0cX4vmawxrDQKP7C74OCS-C8L8hT0imizgj4y4g1pWXJnfa9reTjHiDfERjoFRbFw5lA9c07JbDAGRADdgGfgU/s320/Yarn+for+baby+sweater.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby sweater--the "before" photo<br />
(photo by Donna B. Russell)</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Third, I wanted to be more "crafty" this year by knitting some things for my grandson who is due in April, and maybe brushing up on crocheting, as well. I also wanted to take more time to practice sketching, and learning to paint on glass and ceramics. The yarn, needles, and pattern for a baby sweater were ordered at the end of January, and I'll be starting the actual knitting this weekend.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And last, I want to create a more workable daily schedule that includes time set aside for writing, being more consistent with blogging, and participating more fully in one or two online writing groups. One of my writing goals was to launch an online version of the print "PetWise" column I write. I'm happy to say that "PetWise Online" launched February 1, with my guest, Nadine M. Rosin, author of The Healing Art of Pet Parenthood. You can read it and give me your feedback at http://petwiseonline.blogspot.com.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What goals did you set for 2011? Did you make a good start in January, or have they already fallen by the wayside? Share your goals and your plan for achieving them in the comments section.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-30402245902605169942010-12-27T16:55:00.004-05:002010-12-27T17:26:53.147-05:00The Gift of a Family Tradition<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">[Note: I'm posting this early in case you'd like to establish this as a tradition for your own family.]</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It had been a difficult year. My widowed mother was nearing retirement from her job at IBM, I was a single mom in my final year of college (having returned two years before to complete my degree in English and Elementary Education, when my daughter Jen started kindergarten), and January seemed like a long, bleak month stretching out before us. The gray days of winter sapped what little energy we'd had after the hustle and bustle between Thanksgiving and Christmas.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As usual, we had taken down the Christmas decorations right after New Year's Day. We were exhausted, and the post-Christmas let-down was affecting all of us, but it hit my mom especially hard. So, Jen and I planned to surprise Grammy by celebrating Twelfth Night, the last of the Twelve Days of Christmas that culminates with Epiphany on January 6.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We didn't have much money, but decided to buy one gift for Grammy from both of us. We also planned a special supper to have ready when she came home from work. Then I set up, and Jen helped decorate, a three-foot tall, table-top, artificial tree that I had used for the Pioneer Girls group of which I was leader. We placed the tree on the living room coffee table so that mom wouldn't see it when she came in through the kitchen door from the garage. Jen was so excited it was hard for her (and me, too) to not give anything away.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When mom came home from work, she was tired but surprised and pleased to see supper cooking on the stove. As she removed her coat and boots, and stepped into her slippers, I said, "Supper will be ready soon. Why don't you go sit down in the living room and warm up." She nodded and headed into the living room. But when she saw the tree, with its glowing lights and decorations, she stood stock still and just stared, open-mouthed.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jen and I both shouted, "Happy Twelfth Night!"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mom gaped at the tree, then at us, then back at the tree.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What did you do?" she asked, awe-struck.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had her sit down in her rocking chair, and Jen played "Santa," handing my mother her gift.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But I don't have anything for you!" she protested.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Our gift was doing this for you," I said.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have long-since forgotten what the present was that she unwrapped that night; but I will never forget the look of wonder and joy that lit up her face when she saw that little tree and as she opened that solitary gift. We had a delicious supper, and all of the exhaustion and post-holiday depression melted away in the warmth of each others' company. It was a wonderful night.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thus began our family tradition of celebrating Twelfth Night--a tradition I continued when David and I married two years later, and which has endured to the present. Each year, on New Year's Eve, those family members who are able to participate, put their names on slips of paper, we each draw a name, then buy that person a modest gift. On Twelfth Night, we gather around the Christmas tree (which we leave up until after January 6) one last time, light candles and enjoy the lights, often read the story of the Wisemen bringing their gifts to the Christ Child and sing "We Three Kings," and exchange our gifts. We have found it a wonderful way to bring the holidays to a close, and to diminish, if not entirely dispel, the post-holiday melancholy that many people experience.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you have any post-holiday traditions that you celebrate? Do you have a ritual for taking down the tree and packing away the decorations? If so, please share them in the comment section below.</span><br />
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</span>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-9911845891371547822010-11-30T17:00:00.000-05:002010-11-30T17:00:50.799-05:00Shelter Pets: Love on Four Legs<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today is the last day of November. It is also Shelter Pets Day on Facebook! In celebration, people have been encouraged to share their own shelter pet stories, so I'd like to share mine. Both of our current cats and my service dog were shelter animals. Yes, I said my service dog is a shelter alumni, but more on that in a minute.</span></span></span><br />
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</span></span></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurNJ1OVz5YPHxAL-5T81DL9WL_IlBcWK6jD1Xnq94x7ey9AxRMAwkTByhDJx758bplr99CsExBpzLWaXoo2Wtajdx790NAeBiLnKhOc6mJI-VW9ZfO8JvuF5D-jeDjVK69Y28f9HSxDW7/s1600/MeishaAdj..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurNJ1OVz5YPHxAL-5T81DL9WL_IlBcWK6jD1Xnq94x7ey9AxRMAwkTByhDJx758bplr99CsExBpzLWaXoo2Wtajdx790NAeBiLnKhOc6mJI-VW9ZfO8JvuF5D-jeDjVK69Y28f9HSxDW7/s200/MeishaAdj..jpg" width="200" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We adopted Meisha, a 3-year-old torti cat, on April 6, 2000. We had been to the Humane Society of Chittenden County the day before to look at cats, and had seen this shy, scared beauty huddled in the farthest corner of her cage. We didn't know until the next day that she was just getting over a urinary tract infection. Not wanting to further traumatize her, we left her alone and socialized with a few others that needed homes, but none seemed to "click."</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The following day, we went back to the shelter and decided to ask if we could take the torti into a room to see if she would feel a bit more at ease. Soon after we were settled, she jumped up in my arms and cuddled against my shoulder, purring. She also let my husband and children hold her, and we knew she was the one for us.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, when we got her home, she refused to let us pick her up and seemed rather aloof. Having had two previous homes before coming to ours, she had no way of knowing that ours would be permanent, and most likely didn't dare risk getting attached. Three months later, she developed a life-threatening liver infection. She stopped eating, her weight plummeted from 9 pounds to 7, and we rushed her to our vet, where the prognosis wasn't good. However, with the excellent care from the vets at VCA Brown Animal Hospital, and our love and support, Meisha pulled through. From that point on, she began to open up to us, but very slowly. It took two years of patience and encouragement on our part, another life-threatening illness, and surgery to remove several bladder stones (the cause of her chronic urinary tract infections) before she learned to fully trust us and blossomed into the confident, happy, "Queen of the house" that she is today.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meisha hasn't had it easy. A couple of years ago, she developed a very rare eye condition that has caused her to lose her sight in one eye, and will at some point, most likely cause total blindness. At nearly 14 years of age, in spite of her health issues, she still gets around well, is an incredibly loving, confident companion, and we feel blessed to share her life.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 2005, my doctor told me it was time to get a service dog. I'd had dogs growing up, but after my husband and I married, we lived in apartments where either dogs were not allowed, or pets were banned altogether. Although dogs are not allowed as pets where we currently live, service dogs are. The first place I looked was the website for the Humane Society of Chittenden County, and there I found the photo of a gorgeous Australian Shepherd-Collie mix. Having had two Border Collies in my late teens and twenties, I had a deep love for the herding breeds and knew them to be intelligent, easy to train, and good with children. Since a lot of children live in our apartment complex, this was one of my main concerns.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqE096iEBv9NMZ9hYdHXI6j0s7g17SdD8WRfw07o46F6iQN3-iXVrgz-NmSKvRjgrObrKCg0byVIV22EVnwSMGeREMh-i_48TUysaMkw1rguTlH7MXNnVhKxMkoEOa1vc2uLnwepXbZ142/s1600/David+and+Mindy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqE096iEBv9NMZ9hYdHXI6j0s7g17SdD8WRfw07o46F6iQN3-iXVrgz-NmSKvRjgrObrKCg0byVIV22EVnwSMGeREMh-i_48TUysaMkw1rguTlH7MXNnVhKxMkoEOa1vc2uLnwepXbZ142/s200/David+and+Mindy.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My husband had not grown up with dogs, and had somewhat of a phobia since he'd been attacked by one in the past. However, he trusted my instincts when it came to picking out a dog. When he saw Mindy, his first thought was, "My gosh, she's HUGE!" Weighing in at around 100 lb., she certainly was a big girl; but she was just what I needed. As we were filling out the adoption papers, another family came in to look at her. Had we been five minutes later, we might have missed out. And so, Mindy joined our family.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Service dogs usually begin training as puppies, and most training programs will not accept dogs that are older than two years of age. Mindy was six years old with a crooked paw (the result of being shot as a puppy) and no training except what they had done at the shelter. We enrolled her in an obedience class at HSCC which she passed with flying colors. Then, through a group in Arizona that helps people train their own service dogs, I began training Mindy in the service behaviors I needed her to perform. She learned very quickly, even adapting some of the procedures to make them easier on both of us. And if she saw a need, she stepped in to fill it. For example, we have railings on our stairs, but the railing doesn't extend around the landing. About two nights after she'd been with us, Mindy started up the stairs behind me, timing her ascent to arrive at the landing just as I had to let go of the railing so I could place my hand on her back for balance. Then she repeated the process at the top of the stairs, escorting me to the bedroom door.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because we live in multi-family housing, we didn't want her to bark and annoy the neighbors, so I taught her to use her "indoor voice," a soft woof, when she needed to go out. The only time she barks out loud is to alert me that someone is at the door, or if there is something unusual going on outside so I can check it out. She even has a special UPS bark, and loves the "boys in brown" because they sometimes give her a biscuit.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mindy will be 12 years old in January, and in spite of showing signs of aging, still fulfills her service duties, and has brought a world of love and joy into our lives--and cured my husband of his dog phobia! We feel so privileged to have her in our family.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvv6sxDvoLx-oEcOmqV3KF5yw_JrftAPItC-eprQatt0ZkPh6UxwBTrMKnJOSmmFK73cKTVEgs5zk1xDqxqd8bD5QO56g39VtBLOg5i2PMjOcbmuFDsh0yKlb585-my1rKgcr8gNBMgH7B/s1600/Micau+deep+in+thought.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvv6sxDvoLx-oEcOmqV3KF5yw_JrftAPItC-eprQatt0ZkPh6UxwBTrMKnJOSmmFK73cKTVEgs5zk1xDqxqd8bD5QO56g39VtBLOg5i2PMjOcbmuFDsh0yKlb585-my1rKgcr8gNBMgH7B/s200/Micau+deep+in+thought.jpg" width="150" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last, but not least, is Micau, a 3-year-old cat we adopted in January of this year from HSCC. When we arrived at the shelter, we told them we needed a cat that was good both with other cats and with dogs. One of the young women there said, "I think we have just what you're looking for," and introduced us to a beautiful, long-haired black and white female. She immediately came over to us, rubbed against our legs, began purring, and let us pick her up. She seemed equally comfortable with both of us, and she had previously lived with cats, dogs, and other animals. We needed to look no further.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meisha immediately established her superior ranking in the pecking order, and, as she had with Mindy, stood her ground when challenged by our new addition. Mindy accepted Micau right away. Within minutes of bringing her home, Micau found and used the litter pan and began exploring her new domain. She is a very loving, affectionate cat who divides her time between David and me, but will also greet guests and, if they are willing, curl up in their laps. In some ways, Micau is more like a dog--she'll come when called (most of the time--she IS a cat, after all), will follow us from room-to-room, and has learned to tap my hand when she wants a treat. She is a healthy, playful, welcome addition to our household.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shelter animals make wonderful companions. They truly appreciate being given a second chance to have a forever home, give unconditional love and affection, provide comfort and companionship, are loyal, and worth every penny of what it costs to provide for their care. We feel so fortunate to be able to learn from these animals, to love them, and to share our lives with them. If you're looking for a companion animal, please give those in your local shelters your first consideration. You'll be saving a life and enriching your own.</span></span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-55229765556592884942010-11-15T18:30:00.000-05:002010-11-15T18:52:30.020-05:00A Case of the Not-So-Warm Fuzzies<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">While reading an article about autumn in the Adirondacks, the photo of a granite water tub/fountain caught my eye. Since the husband of one of my online friends does sculpting, I thought they might enjoy it, too, so I sent her a message to that effect. When she replied that she'd love to see it if I would send the link, I was surprised because I thought I had; but when I checked my original message, there was no link to be found. Fibro-fog strikes again!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >What is fibro-fog? People talk about the "warm fuzzies"--things that make us feel good or give us a sense of well-being. Fibro-fog is the "fuzzies" without the "warmth." You realize you have it when you start to say a word and can't quite seem to latch onto it, or you begin to share some item you've read about or seen on the news, and use a different word from the one you had intended. Sometimes I go through a bit of mental acrobatics trying to capture that word--a bit like two people on separate trapeze bars, swinging, but not quite in synch, who keep missing each other when they try to grasp hands. Sometimes a bit of word association helps: Can you hand me the...um...it's red, made from tomatoes, on the bottom shelf of the fridge door...CATSUP! Hah! Got it!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Almost everyone will occasionally forget a name or draw a blank when trying to remember something. But fibro fog is more than a momentary lapse. It involves temporary, short-term memory impairment (often in conjunction with a pain flare), that can make conversation difficult, stressful, and hard to follow or remember. Someone will tell you they're going to the store--you know what they said, you understood it, but as soon as their mouth stops moving, it's gone. For anything important to remember, it helps to write it down--just remember where you wrote it!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Fibro-fog may also cause you to transpose numbers and letters (even though you're not dyslexic), forget appointments, or temporarily forget how to do even a simple task or spell a common word. Those who experience fibro fog have occasionally found some of their possessions in unexpected places, such as their keys in the fridge and their milk in the cupboard. So, if you're having a "foggy" day, don't try to do more than one thing at a time, and try to focus on what you're doing and where you set things down. Don't tackle things like paying bills or balancing the checkbook until the fog clears.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Fibro fog can take a toll on your self-esteem. When you know in your mind what you want to say, but the message isn't getting from your brain to your mouth, it can be embarrassing, humiliating, and make you feel stupid because you know it's happening, and you can't do anything but ride it out. I used to quip that if I ever developed Alzheimers, no one would know the difference! Now, scientists have discovered that those who have fibromyalgia may have an increased risk of developing Alzheimer's disease.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Fibrofog can also have a negative impact on self-care because you are apt to forget to exercise or take medications consistently that would help alleviate other symptoms, such as pain. Since pain interferes with the brain's ability to process new information (as does lack of sleep, stress, and the decrease in seratonin production), it can become a vicious cycle.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fortunately, these episodes usually only last a few hours, and disappear when the pain flare ends or when you have been able to get restorative sleep.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >To minimize fibro-fog, here are some things that may help:</span></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Try to get 7-8 hours of sleep each night (easier said than done if you suffer from insomnia);</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Eat a balanced, nutritious diet that includes "brain food" like fish (especially fish high in omega-3s, such as wild salmon and tuna), blueberries, green tea, and organic dark chocolate or cacao beans; foods high in B-vitamins (especially folic acid, B6 and B12);</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Keep your brain active with another kind of "brain food"--puzzles (crosswords, Sudoku, brain teasers, riddles, etc.), reading, learning a new language, learning <i>anything</i> new such as knitting, crocheting, painting, wood-working, sculpting, etc.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Aerobic exercise, especially walking (a US study found that walking appears to help minimize brain shrinkage as we age, and may offer some protection against, or delay the onset of, dementia and Alzheimers);</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Minimize stress (exercise can help with this, too, but so can calming meditation, listening to soothing music, watching an aquarium full of fish, or some other relaxing activity--or just deep breathing and closing your eyes for a few minutes);</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Keep your sense of humor--Laughter can help minimize stress, lower anxiety, oxygenate your blood, and provide an internal massage;</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Accentuate the positive--find that cloud's silver lining, look for the good, change negative thoughts into positive ones, focus on what you CAN do instead of what you CAN'T do.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Don't take yourself too seriously--most problems eventually are solved, situations change, and something can be learned from the most devastating of life's experiences.</span></span></li></ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We can't control fibro fog (or much of what life throws at us), but we can control how we choose to handle it. We can worry about it, or we can recognize it as part of the challenge of living with Fibromyalgia, and determine to live the best life we can in spite of it. </span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >How do you cope with fibro-fog or other challenges of living with a chronic illness? Post your thoughts, questions, suggestions in the comment section below.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Now, I'm going to go spend some time with MY warm fuzzies--Mindy, Meisha, Micau, and...David!</span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-70716191507271172682010-11-09T16:30:00.002-05:002010-11-09T16:40:52.849-05:00Seven Benefits of Adopting an Older Animal<span class="Apple-style-span" ><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm taking a "time-out" from working on my NaNo Novel to share something that is very close to my heart--animal adoption, especially adoption of older or senior dogs and cats.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Almost everyone wants to adopt a puppy or kitten because they're so cute and cuddly. Those little balls of fluff steal your heart and beg you to take them home. But there are several benefits to adopting an older animal.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1. An older animal is usually already housebroken; if not, they are easier to train than a kitten or puppy. Show the cat where the litter pan is, or take the dog outside and show it where you want it to relieve itself, and it will learn quickly what is expected. No cleaning up accidents on the floor, in your plant pots, or on your bed!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2. What you see is what you get. An adult animal's personality is already formed, so there's no guesswork as to what it will be like when it grows up. That cute, cuddly kitten may grow up to be standoffish and aloof. And that cute, energetic puppy might turn out to be a one-dog demolitionist when left at home alone.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">3. If you adopt from a shelter, an older dog will already be spayed/neutered, and will be up-to-date on shots. Many shelters also give you a coupon for a free vet check-up, as well as other helpful materials such as coupons for food, non-food supplies, etc. The adoption fee is usually far less than the cost of the series of puppy/kitten shots, spaying/neutering, etc.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4. Since they have likely already lived in a household, they have better "manners." Barring an anxiety disorder, they are far less likely to chew the furniture, your shoes, or the molding on your doorways like a teething puppy would. And, they tend to be more mellow and happy to keep you company. Older cats already know what not to scratch, and usually know what "no" means. When we adopted 3-year old Micau (cat), if she started to do something that was not allowed, all I had to do was say "Unh-uh" and she'd stop immediately and understand that was off limits.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5. Chances are an older dog will already know some basic commands; but even if they don't, they are fairly easy to train using positive reinforcement and a little patience. It's not true that "you can't teach an old dog new tricks." Older dogs have a longer attention span than puppies, are more focused, and have some life experience in relating to humans behind them. For example, we adopted my service dog when she was six years old, and she'd had minimal training. Not only were we able to teach her all of the basic obedience commands, but also the service behaviors I needed her to perform--all within the first few months of her living with us.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6. If you have limited time, an older pet may be what you need. Training a puppy or kitten, house-breaking them, teaching them what is and is not appropriate or acceptable behavior, is similar to having a human toddler. It requires a lot of time and energy. Since an older animal has generally mastered the basics, you can spend more of your time just enjoying them.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">7. Older animals, especially shelter animals, appreciate being given a second chance at having a forever home. All they want is someone who will love and take care of them. In return, they will give you unconditional love and be the best companion you ever had.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Have you ever adopted an older or senior pet? Share your experiences in the comment section below.</span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-9246717841241728262010-11-01T18:10:00.003-04:002010-11-01T18:15:01.100-04:00Let the NaNoWriMo Games Begin...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">November is National Novel Writing Month, so what does that mean, exactly? </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">On November 1, thousands (last year it was 161,870!) people will withdraw from active participation in the "normal" world, sequester themselves in bedrooms, dens, coffee shops, or other venues, and attempt the nerve-wracking challenge of writing a 50,000 word novel in thirty days. Some will drop out for various reasons: illness, family emergencies, the threat of failing out of school, or the overwhelming desire to make sure the rest of the world is still out there. But others will push through exhaustion, loneliness, pressure, and the prospect of losing the continuity of their favorite TV programs (or watching the TiVo'd episodes instead of Christmas programs in December), to reach the pinnacle of word-count mania for the grand prize of having their progress bar turn purple and the thrill of placing a NaNoWriMo "Winner" badge on their webpage or blog. Oh, they may emerge briefly to partake of the turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving, but will not truly re-enter society until December 1, when they will reintroduce themselves to their friends, family, and pets, clear out overstuffed in-boxes, and spend the next week or so catching up on Facebook and Twitter.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Last year, I did a daily blog post during NaNo. I'll be posting again this year, but am not sure I'll try to do it on a daily basis. I began this year's NaNo adventure at 12:04 a.m., and exceeded the word count for Day 1. However, for the first time in four years, I'm not sure whether to keep it or scrap it and try again. Either way, the creative juices are flowing, and it is helping me to balance the anxiety of waiting to hear if my son and daughter-in-law made it safely to their Mexican destination.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">For those who are new to NaNoWriMo, you might want to read last year's posts in my archives for the history of NaNoWriMo, suggestions for preparing yourself for this crazy writing adventure, tips on the writing process, and more. And don't forget to peruse the various forums on the NaNo site and hook up with some writing buddies for mutual support and inspiration. Until next time...</span></span></div></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-45942538038904805092010-10-16T23:55:00.000-04:002010-10-16T23:59:35.769-04:00Oh, the Days Dwindle Down to a Precious Few...<span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So sang Old Blue Eyes himself (Frank Sinatra, for those of you too young to remember the Rat Pack). Autumn is half over already, and Christmas is only two months away! I love autumn, but it seems to be on fast-forward this year--maybe because it has been so busy, or maybe because I'm getting older and the days seem to fly by. Sometimes I'd like to shout, "Hey, slow down, let me catch my breath."</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">October is full of special days: birthdays (daughter Jen</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">, brother David, sister-in-law Karolee, nephew Dennis, and several friends), anniversaries (daughter Sarah and son-in-law Louie's anniversary was the 12th, and several friends also celebrated anniversaries); and we'll also be saying adios (though I prefer au revoir) to our son Davy and daughter-in-law Tracy as they make a quick trip home to Vermont before leaving for Mexico. We're looking forward to having all of the family together for a couple of those "precious few" days, but are also experiencing the parental angst of having part of our family moving so far away and not knowing for how long. So, maybe we should say "vaya con Dios" (go with God) and ask Him so see them safely on their adventure and, eventually, safely home again.</span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So, in one sense, the days are dwindling down; but in another sense, they're adding up. For there is another anniversary coming up on October 29--the first-year anniversary of this blog. If you have been following along since last October, you will remember that I began Creative Muse Journal in conjunction with National Novel Writing Month which begins every year on November 1, and encourages people to write a 50,000 word short novel in 30 days. (The introductory post and the daily NaNoWriMo posts from 2009 are in the archives, if you want to look them up.) This will be my fourth year participating in NaNoWriMo. Usually, I feel that the timing is not ideal, what with the pressure of celebrating Thanksgiving just when I'm struggling to finish and hit that word count goal, and Christmas looming on the horizon. But this year, maybe the timing is just right because it begins on the same day that Davy and Tracy will be winging their way to Mexico. I will need something to keep my mind occupied, and NaNo certainly does that.</span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-85173728382281929792010-09-07T17:07:00.000-04:002010-09-07T17:09:46.631-04:00Seasons of Change<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Although it's not officially autumn until September 22 at 11:09 p.m. Eastern Time, harbingers of change are already beginning to appear. Some of the trees in Burlington are sporting flashes of red and orange; the mercury dropped nearly forty degrees overnight a few nights ago, and seems to be on a frenzied dash up and down the thermometer, trying to decide where to land. After setting record highs in the 90s four days in a row this past week, it barely crossed the 70 degree mark yesterday, is supposed to be 83 today, and stepping down by ten degrees each day before leveling off in the mid-60s on Friday, then rebounding into the 70s over the weekend. The early McIntosh apples have already appeared in the produce section of our local supermarket, and my taste buds are gearing up for homemade applesauce, fresh cider, and apple crisp.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The nights will be quieter, too, without the air conditioner humming; and I look forward to that economical breather between turning the a/c off and having to turn the heat on. I'm not quite as bad as Scrooge, who kept his place of business bleak and chilly, informing his poor clerk, Bob Cratchit, that "Garments were invented by the human race as a protection against the cold. Once purchased, they may be used indefinitely for the purpose for which they are intended. Coal burns. Coal is momentary and coal is costly. There will be no more coal burned in this office today, is that quite clear Mr. Cratchit?" However, I do make good use of sweaters and slacks, and usually do not have to turn the heat on until late October or early November, unless we get an early cold snap.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There are other signs of change, too. After a brief</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; "> (too brief!)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; "> respite from Mindy's shedding of last year's undercoat, she is now shedding her summer coat, and that soft, tufted undercoat is growing in again. A friend said she had seen several woollybear caterpillars, looking fat and sassy with wide bands of brown and narrower bands of orange in the middle, and the squirrels are out in force with cheek pouches full to overflowing with seeds and acorns. Does that mean our hot, wet summer will be followed by an early, cold, snowy winter?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Some changes have nothing to do with the changing seasons of the year, and more to do with the changing seasons of life. My son and daughter-in-law informed us a few weeks ago that they are moving to Mexico in a couple of months. As a parent, I am sad to see them move so far away; but, also as a parent, I am thrilled that they are actively following their dreams. Davy has always wanted to live in a warmer climate, somewhere with palm trees, and had been trying to learn Spanish on his own for some time. Since the best way to learn a language</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> is by total immersion, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">their move to Mexico will certainly afford him that opportunity--along with those palm trees! One of the benefits of having a web-based business is that it can be run from anywhere in the world. Whether or not the move will become permanent remains to be seen; but, in the meantime, there will be some exciting changes in store for them.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On the same day, our daughter Sarah informed us that we are going to be first-time grandparents next spring. David and I are beyond thrilled, and I'm sure my friends will get sick of hearing me talk about it long before my grandchild puts in his or her appearance on planet Earth. I have been looking online at knitting patterns for baby blankets and sweater sets (if you have a favorite pattern, please feel free to share it), started a journal called "Letters from Gramma D," and have been daydreaming of all the things I want to share with this special little one in the future--baking cookies, making crafts, coloring pictures, reading stories, playing "Let's pretend." And then there are all the childhood movies to relive, and seeing the world through a child's eyes again. This is a change I'm very much looking forward to and hope will be repeated.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Some changes are welcome--cooler weather, the approach of the holidays, a new grandchild, new adventures; some are not so welcome--declining health, the illness and death of loved ones, the disappearance of a beloved pet (our daughter Jen's, missing since September 1), having to get by without a car (hopefully not for long), and concerns about our country's economic health and the health of the planet.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">How do you meet the challenges that changes bring? What changes are taking place in your life now? Please take a few minutes to share your comments below.<br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#3B3330;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div></div></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-374034557065590882010-08-15T18:00:00.000-04:002010-08-15T18:01:49.220-04:00Just Do It!<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Not long ago I read an article titled "Secrets of the Organized" by Jill Cooper. (If you want to read it (it's excellent, by the way), you can find it at http://www.stretcher.com/index.cfm under the heading "Today's Frugal Living Tools.") Tip number five jumped out at me and triggered memories of doing chores on the weekends or during summer vacations when I lived at home growing up.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On any such typical morning, while I was enjoying the tart-sweet tang of a ruby red grapefruit, or the smoky flavor of sizzling bacon with a dropped egg on toast, my mother would sit across the table and begin orally reciting all the chores I was to do that day: make your bed, then dust your room, don't forget to clean the mirrors, empty your wastebasket, vacuum the floor, and then mop it. Be sure to let the floor dry before putting your throw rugs back down. Oh, and change your bed before you begin cleaning, and bring me your laundry so I can get that started. When you finish your room, you can start on the bathroom, then help me bring in the laundry off the clothesline, help fold it, and put it away. No matter how many times I had successfully performed these tasks in the past, she felt it necessary to give me detailed instructions on how to accomplish them.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sometimes, there were other chores: washing the windows, taking down the drapes so they could be cleaned, brushing down the ceilings and walls, and other monthly or seasonal chores. Since I liked to iron and she didn't, that often fell to me, too. And, of course, sometimes I helped with the baking, which I also enjoyed.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It always seemed to me that by the time breakfast was over, I was exhausted. It took me several years to realize why. With my mother's rehearsal of tasks, it felt like doing the work twice. And sometimes, she'd go over the list a second or third time to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and that I knew exactly what was expected. I realize, now, that this was her way of organizing her day; but it often left me feeling totally depleted of energy.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Talking about your work before doing it isn't the same as making out a "To Do List." The list is a guide you write once, then check off as you go. It's a great way to have a visual aid to what you've accomplished, and gives you a feeling of achievement. Nor am I talking about procrastination, which is a delaying tactic for putting off your tasks as long as possible. What I'm talking about is over-thinking what has to be done and mentally wearing yourself out before you even get started.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Since my strength and energy are limited now, I can't afford to waste either on just talking about what needs to be done. Sometimes I make a list; other times I don't. But when the energy is flowing, I've found the best way to get something done is to just DO it! Dive in, make a start, and keep going until it's finished.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Do you have a hard time getting things done because you think or talk about them too much first? What helps you get your tasks accomplished? Do you make a list? Do you have a household "chore chart"? Do you set a timer or put on some music? Or do you just dig in after you have that morning cup of coffee? What works for you? Please share your comments and thoughts below.</span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-17569750162475892532010-08-06T00:30:00.004-04:002010-08-06T01:01:01.274-04:00Time Flies When You're...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">My watch stopped a week ago, and it got me thinking about time. I hadn't intended to take time off from writing my blog, yet my last post was in June, and here we are in August! I was here. My blog was here. But somehow, we just didn't seem to have the time to connect, and time kept marching on.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div>There's an old saying that, "Time flies when you're having fun." The truth is, time flies whether you're having fun or not. Sometimes we can have so much to do, even fun things, that we become overwhelmed and either try to plow on, making mistakes as we go, or we come to a screeching halt, try to get our bearings, and reevaluate. This is true in our work lives with multiple tasks and responsibilities, deadlines, appointments, reports, phone calls, meetings, etc. And with many companies trying to save money by cutting back staff, it sometimes means one employee has to take on the additional work previously done by another. Then when you add in our personal lives (some might ask, "What personal life?"), there is even less time, and more pressure and stress. How can you keep your balance, perform at work, and keep your home life from falling apart, as well?</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">At work, if you're feeling overwhelmed and need help, the first thing to do is admit it to yourself. Then, talk to your supervisor. Explain the situation to him/her and ask what things he wants you to focus on and what can be either delegated to someone else or set aside for later. Some employers are willing to work with their employees to create a better, more productive work environment, and others are not. If your boss is not approachable, try to set up a priority system for yourself and track your workload and what gets done. See if you can find a more efficient way of handling tasks such as setting aside a specific time each day for correspondence, returning phone calls, etc., if practical in your situation. Be flexible. If something isn't working, try to find another way of doing it.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Some employers have instituted 5-10 minute breaks/naps each hour and have found that workers increase productivity when they have these breaks. Whether just closing your eyes, meditating, or going for a walk outside or down the hall, breaking up the routine can revive you if you're flagging. Set a timer, though, so you don't doze off for too long. The goal is a mini-break, not a pink slip.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If you work with a team and have weekly meetings, see if you can discuss ways of diminishing overload. Perhaps if one person has less to do on a given day, they could help ease the burden for a coworker who is overwhelmed that day. If everyone is equally out straight, suggest the idea of hiring a temporary employee to ease the burden until things are on a more even keel. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If the stress is affecting your health, make a doctor's appointment and discuss ways of handling stress more efficiently. Talk with your boss or supervisor and see if he is willing to work with you to cut back your workload, at least temporarily. If you're having serious health problems, and all else has failed, it might be time to start looking for a different job.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">At home, make caring for your living space a family affair. Even preschoolers can help pick up toys and laundry, help feed pets (with parental supervision), clean up spills with a paper towel or sponge, and dust things that are at their level either with a cloth or by using a sock on their hand. You might post a household "Chore Chart" that lists what needs to be done each day, and who has the responsibility for completing that specific chore. Rewards for completing assigned tasks could be a favorite activity, staying up a half-hour past bedtime, watching a favorite DVD, an allowance, etc. If you have a family meeting and let the kids pick and choose their chores, based on age appropriateness, they may feel more invested in doing them. Or, you could rotate chores from week to week, let family members draw tasks written on slips of paper in a "job jar," or whatever method will work best for your family given the number of people and ages. Be creative.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If there are larger projects at home that need doing, and the adults in the home are too busy to do them, consider hiring someone. Depending on the project, you might be able to find a middle- or high-school student who is looking to make some money over the summer or on weekends. Cleaning, painting, weeding, mowing, and even grocery shopping are just some of the chores that can be hired out that don't necessarily require a professional to do them.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said in a poem, "...time is fleeting..." Life is too short to cram each minute full of activity. Our minds and bodies need time to rest, recoup, de-stress. Like a pressure cooker needs to have the steam released periodically to keep it from blowing it's top off, so do we need ways of taking the pressure off or it will manifest in physical, emotional, or mental eruptions.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">How do you balance your time between work, family, self-care, hobbies, etc? Does your boss allow for mini-breaks? Have you found a way to successfully handle job stress? Share your thoughts in the comment section.</span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-55390076278685658202010-06-07T16:15:00.002-04:002010-06-07T16:28:11.050-04:00Decluttering A Cluttered Mind<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It happens to everyone sooner or later. You crawl into bed, turn out the light, close your eyes...and suddenly your mind is like the freeway during morning rush hour. Things left undone, plans for your son's birthday party, an article you read in the paper that you want to remember to discuss with your sister, the grocery list you forgot to write down, projects, people, appointments, ideas are swimming in your brain keeping sleep at bay even though your body is exhausted.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">During the day, it's not much better. You flit from one thing to another, never seeming to finish anything. As you unpack the groceries you just bought, you suddenly remember the oil you needed for cooking tonight's supper, or the special dessert your husband expressly asked you to pick up. Now, you have to waste time with a second trip to the store. Or, you are half-way through preparing dinner when you remember that your husband said you were dining out with his boss and his wife tonight! "What's wrong with me?" you wonder. "Am I losing my mind?"</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The short answer is "no, you're not losing it." But perhaps you've misplaced it under the mound of things you've shoved in there, willy-nilly, like your junk drawer or that back closet where things get dumped until "later." Your mind isn't lost, it's just cluttered. So, how do you unclutter it?</span></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">Write things down, whether you use pen and paper or an electronic alternative (such as a Palm Pilot or an app on your iPod). Now, instead of having to remember everything in your head, all you have to remember is where you put your notebook or PDA! To solve that problem, designate a spot for it--your purse, your desk, a corner of the kitchen counter--wherever you will be sure to see it. Assign it a "home," and be consistent in putting it there after every use.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">Make lists, then organize and prioritize your them: appointments, birthdays/anniversaries, meetings, chores, errands, etc. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; "> Make it a habit to review your lists for the week on Saturday night so you are prepared for the week ahead.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">Enter all appointments, special dates, and meetings into your calendar, whether a paper one, or electronic. If electronic, you can set reminders.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">For chores, make another list and organize it by room, then by day of the week, and add separate sections for monthly, quarterly, semi-annual, and annual chores. Write out the daily chores, by room, on a set of index cards, with additional cards for the monthly, quarterly, etc., chores. Keep these in a small box, basket, or jar. Or, you may want to keep them in a section of a master binder. If you have a spouse or children you can enlist to help with the chores, you might wish to invest in a large hanging calendar with wipe-off or tear-off sheets. In this way, you can assign chores and mark appointments, and each person will know exactly what they are responsible for and when. As chores are accomplished, they can be checked off. Use a different colored pen for each member of the family so you can see at a glance who'd doing what and going where, and when. This method worked great for our family when our kids were growing up.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">To organize shopping lists, such as groceries, look in your word processor or online for a template. Or, make up your own. Take a sheet of paper, divide it into sections, and list major headings such as Produce, Dairy, Canned Goods, Meat, Dry goods, Frozen Foods, Pet Supplies, Cleaning Supplies, Paper Products, Bathroom Supplies, Miscellaneous. Under each heading, list the items you use. For example, under Produce, list apples, peaches, pears, grapes, bell peppers, mushrooms, lettuce, cabbage, potatoes, etc. Place a blank line in front of each item so you can check off what you need to buy. Use this as your guide when composing your weekly grocery list. If you keep it on the front of your refrigerator, it will be easy to check off needed items as you run out of them, so nothing is forgotten.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">On another page in your notebook or binder, make a list of family members and friends for whom you buy gifts. Under each person's name, write their clothing sizes, color preferences, and specific items you know they like or want. </span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">At the beginning of each month, check your calendar and gift list, write out cards for the month, make out your shopping list, and make one trip to shop for everyone who has a birthday or anniversary that month. Then you'll have everything on hand when the date rolls around. If you go ahead and address and stamp the envelopes, all you'll need to do is drop them in the mail a few days before the actual date. Many online card websites have a feature that lets you select the delivery date, so you could select all of your cards at the beginning of the month, set the various delivery dates, and your cards will be delivered electronically on time.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">Don't forget to organize your household bills, too. Place them by due date in a basket, desktop mail holder, or some other designated spot. If you don't pay them as they come in, then set aside a day and time each week, or biweekly, to pay them. Keep them near your stamps and address labels, so you have everything readily available when you need it. Or, you can arrange for online payment and save paper, postage, and time.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">Once every two or three months, check your master list and see if you need to revise it. If something isn't working, scrap it and try something else until you find what works for you.</span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">Keep a journal or notebook on the nightstand beside your bed. Make a habit of journaling every night before you go to bed...not just a diary of what you did that day, but your feelings, thoughts, emotions, ideas. If you have a hard time getting to sleep because something keeps buzzing around in your brain, jot it down in the journal. By doing this, you free up your mind from having to remember so much, and can better relax and drift off.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small; ">Oh, and while you're decluttering, why not get rid of all that negative self-talk, and the negative things other people have said that bother you? If you can't just forget them, then defuse them by substituting positive statements. Live in the now. Don't let the past ruin your present.</span></li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There are many helpful organizing sites online. One I especially like is Maria Gracia's "Get Organized Now," http://www.getorganizednow.com/index.html. You can also subscribe to her free monthly newsletter, get free organizing tips, a monthly organizing calendar, and other useful information and tools to help you get and stay organized.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now that you've decluttered your mind, why not put it to better use by doing something creative or fun? Read a book (or write one!), get out your camera and take some pictures, go for a walk, go to a museum, attend a lecture or concert, take a class, bake a cake and decorate it, try out a new recipe, teach your dog or cat a new trick. Do something just for fun, and just for you.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Do you have some other ideas, suggestions, or comments? Share them in the comment section below.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-32666058148215172552010-05-15T14:10:00.000-04:002010-05-15T14:15:28.483-04:00Virtual Clutter, Real Problem<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">The way we send and receive mail has come a long way from when Benjamin Franklin became the first Post Master General in 1775, to the pony express--brave riders on horseback who traveled across dangerous territory, risking life and limb, through all kinds of weather, to carry mail from one part of the country to another between April 1860 to November of 1861, to the present day. Mail has been transported by trains, ships, trucks, and airplanes. Delivery times were cut from several months to, in some cases, same day delivery. Then came the computer age and electronic mail (e-mail), delivering correspondence instantly -- sometimes to the embarrassment of the sender when the "Send" button was hit too quickly, resulting in only half a message being sent, or worse, sending it to the wrong person.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">E-mail has certainly made communication easier; but, as with postal (or "snail") mail, e-mail can become another clutter trap. I remember the first time my in-box maxed out at 1000 pieces of e-mail. How did this happen? For one thing, as with paper mail and magazines, I had sometimes been in a hurry, or been ill and unable to check e-mail for a few days, resulting in a backlog. Or, I would save the mail in my in-box because there was an article or a newsletter I wanted to read "later." Although I had created files for various categories of mail, there were some things that just didn't seem to fit anywhere, so they, too, ended up hanging out in the in-box indefinitely.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If you struggle to keep e-mail under control, here are some suggestions to help tame it:</span></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If you get a lot of e-mail, check it at least once a day, if possible.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Delete obvious junk mail without opening it. Set up your spam filter to catch most junk mail before it even enters your in-box.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">As with paper mail, open it only once. Then either answer it, discard it, or file it.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Set up folders to organize those e-mails you want or need to save, but be selective in what you keep. Name the folders so you can find the material easily.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If you're in a hurry, flag e-mail that needs further action. That way, the next time you log on, you won't waste time hunting through your in-box trying to find those items that need your attention.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Don't sign up for anything online unless you know you will read and use it.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Remove yourself from newsletters that you don't have time to read.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Ask your friends to remove you from group mailings they send out. Instead, ask them to use the BCC (blind carbon copy) feature to minimize the risk of spammers getting your e-mail address.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">For message boards and newsgroups, either read the posts on the web, or change your setting from having all posts sent to you to having a daily or weekly summary, instead.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If you send out newsletters or other information to a group of people, set up a distribution list. This saves you from having to write the same letter over and over to each individual, as well as minimizing the number of copies you need to keep for future reference.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Delete everything you don't absolutely need. Will you REALLY go back and read an article in a newsletter that is number 899 out of 1000--that is, IF you even remember that you wanted to read it, or have any idea where it is in that sea of e-mail in your in-box? Could you find the information by using your search engine instead?</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If there is mail you really need to keep indefinitely, burn it to a CD or save it on a thumb drive or other external drive. That way you can delete it from your in-box.</span></span></li></ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I hope these tips will help you stay organized and keep you from becoming overwhelmed by virtual clutter. How do you deal with your e-mail? Share your tips and comments in the comment section below.</span></span></div></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-77006887994455708022010-05-08T18:30:00.001-04:002010-05-08T18:48:04.841-04:00Let's Talk Trash: Dealing with Paper, Junk Mail, and More<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Every spring, our apartment complex brings in dumpsters for an annual "Dumpster Day." This gives residents an opportunity to clear out the year's accumulated clutter, toss trash, recycle, and even participate in a site-wide tag sale. However, it's not long after the dumpsters have been towed away, that the worst clutter offender rears its head again--paper!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Even though most people proclaim that we live in an "electronic age," there is still a lot of paper that enters our lives on a daily basis. I must confess, I've always had a special affinity for paper, whether books, notebooks, magazines, writing paper, or cards. I jokingly tell people that I must have been a tree in a former life, and I like to have my "relatives" close by. I like the tactile nature of paper products. E-books have their place and can help you tame clutter, but I still like to be able to feel the texture of the cover, the smoothness of the pages, and have a sense of connection that holding an actual book in your hands provides. However, you can make wise choices to control the number of books taking up space in your home. (More on that below.)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Most of the paper entering our homes today is in the form of newspapers, magazines, junk mail, and bills. In a busy world, it's easy to toss these aside to read "later." Next thing we know, there's a pile of paper where the coffee table, or even the kitchen table, used to be. What's worse is that we may overlook a bill that's due because it's buried in a pile of junk. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you need to tame the paper monster in your home, here are some tips that might help:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">P</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> - Place a small basket or box on a table to collect your incoming mail, preferably near a wastebasket, so that all the mail is in one place. When you open the mail, toss fillers, outside envelopes (unless you use the outer envelopes of bills to record the due dates), outer wrappers, and anything that is obviously "junk."</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">A</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> - Add your name/address to the National Do Not Mail List. For info go to: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.directmail.com/directory/mail_preference/">http://www.directmail.com/directory/mail_preference/</a>.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> If you receive junk mail with a prestamped, preaddressed return envelope, write "Remove me from your mailing list" on the return slip inside or a piece of paper, and mail it to the company in the prepaid envelope.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">P</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> - Pick it up to sort through only once. Deal with junk mail immediately by opening it, removing any personally identifiable information (which you will shred), and throw the rest in the wastebasket. Place bills to be paid in a file folder or mail holder until you are ready to pay them. If you are one of the rare, lucky people who still receives letters and cards by postal mail, place these in a letter holder or basket on your desk until you can respond to them. Make it a goal to deal with replies within a week of receipt. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">E</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> - Explore the online bill-paying service from your bank, and pay your bills electronically so the paper bills don't enter your home in the first place.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">R</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> - Recycle paper (some areas require that white office paper and colored paper be bundled separately for recycling, others do not; so check with your local department of public works or recycling service), newspaper, magazines, and cardboard. Staples do not have to be removed, but DO remove plastic clips or bindings, rubber bands, plastic stickers, membership cards, wire spiral bindings, and plastic wrappers. By the way, shredded paper makes great packing material if you send packages to relatives or friends at holiday time, but use a cross-cut shredder for added security--another way to recycle.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>And here are some additional tips:</b></span></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Don't sign up for special magazine subscriptions that have an automatic renewal service unless you are certain you will want to continue your subscription beyond the reduced rate period. Don't subscribe just because a magazine offers a "super savings" rate. If you're not going to read it, you're just wasting your money and adding to the clutter.</span></span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Keep magazines by your chair or bed. If you haven't read them in a month, or by the time the next issue arrives, put them in the recycle box. If there is an article you want to read or save, tear out the article instead of saving the whole magazine. Then set a time to read the article and either throw it out afterward or file it away.</span></span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Use a filing cabinet or file box for storing receipts that must be kept for tax purposes. </span></span></li></ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Give each family member a "memory box" in which to store personal memorabilia, including special cards and letters. Scrapbooks or binders with clear pockets can be used for storing special cards and postcards, programs from concerts or plays, etc.</span></span></li></ul><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">To keep your home from looking like the local lending library, you might want to invest in an e-reader. With several different brands on the market, you can choose which works best for you. If you have books you will never read again, you can donate them to your library or public school for their book sales, take them to a used book store, or sell them through Amazon or eBay. Only collect print books of value to you, or by your favorite author(s); and recycle the rest by one of the aforementioned methods, or by donating them to prisons, homeless shelters, or hospitals. Call first to make sure they are accepting donations. You can also check online at <a href="http://for.theloveofbooks.com/2009/03/donate-books/">http://for.theloveofbooks.com/2009/03/donate-books/</a> or <a href="http://www.gotbooks.com/">http://www.gotbooks.com/</a>.</span></span></li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">So, how do you tame the clutter in your home? Do you have a hard time deciding what to keep and what to toss? Share your tips and trials in the comment section below.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">Next time: Virtual Clutter</span></span></div></div></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-46253818064173969702010-05-01T23:40:00.001-04:002010-05-01T23:46:11.300-04:00Cleaning, Clutter, and Chronic Pain/Illness<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Spring housecleaning! Our mothers and grandmothers tackled this job as soon as the weather permitted the windows and doors to be opened to air out the house after the long winter. Then began the ritual of cleaning everything--furniture, upholstery, drapes, ceilings, walls, woodwork, floors, porcelain, etc. By the time they were done, everything had been picked up, put away, scrubbed clean, and the house and its contents looked fresh and neat.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I can remember tying a scarf around my head, putting on an old shirt and jeans, pinning a towel over the broom or dustmop, and pacing back and forth, back and forth, arms stretched over my head, as I walked the length and breadth of the livingroom, kitchen, or whatever room I happened to be in, removing dustwebs and dust from the ceiling. The walls got the same treatment--up and down, up and down, with the broom or dustmop--after the furniture had been pushed into the middle of the room section by section. Then the drapes and upholstery were vacuumed, the rest of the furniture was dusted, the floor was vacuumed and then mopped--everything done in that precise order so you weren't getting dust on things that had already been cleaned. Throw rugs were taken outside, draped over the clothesline or porch railing, and beaten until the previously trapped dust had floated away on the breeze. (You always made sure you weren't standing downwind, or you'd end up looking like a dust bunny yourself!) </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This ritual was passed down from my grandmother to my mother, and from her to me. I continued it in my own home for many years. But, after beginning my journey with chronic pain and illness, that kind of in-depth spring (and fall) cleaning went proverbially "out the window." I could no longer raise my arms over my head long enough to complete even one swipe across the ceiling, let alone do the whole thing. And I no longer had the energy to complete the cleaning of a whole room, never mind the whole house! Housecleaning tasks that I used to do daily, gradually became weekly, and sometimes monthly, semi-annually, or not until someone else could do them.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I once read a quote that said, "A house should be clean enough to be healthy, and messy enough to look lived in." Mine definitely looks "lived in." It's amazing what you accumulate in thirty-plus years of marriage and raising a family. And I swear paper multiplies at night while we're sleeping! In addition to my own things, there are things that had belonged to my mother that passed to me after her death, and had to be removed from her house before it could be sold. So, I ended up with a dresser in the kitchen and boxes in the livingroom behind the sofa--whatever didn't have its own niche was boxed and piled to be gone through at a later date. Another old proverb often quoted is, "A place for everything, and everything in its place." But lives get busy, things get set down to be taken care of "later," especially after an emotional upheaval like the death of a loved one, and later keeps getting pushed further into the future.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I just want to point out here that there is a difference between clutter and hoarding. Clutter accumulates when we are busy, tired, or just plain too lazy to put things where they go or throw out what isn't needed. Hoarding is an illness, a compulsion to keep things because there is an emotional attachment (rational or not) to everything that crosses our path. For some, it might be a compulsion to buy clothes, even if they remain in the original bags with the tags on them for years on end. For others, it's the inability to distinguish what is useful from what is not because "I might need it some day" or because they feel that throwing things out is "wasteful." Hoarders, as seen on two recent TV series--"Hoarders" on A&E TV and "Hoarding: Buried Alive" on TLC--need help from both a mental health professional and an expert organizer, preferably one who is familiar with the dynamics of hoarding. A person with too much clutter, on the other hand, may just need a system, or plan, and perhaps some physical help to deal with the "stuff" that has accumulated, especially if they are physically limited by chronic pain and exhaustion.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">There are any number of books on the market to help you deal with clutter problems. I know, because I have several of them cluttering up--I mean located on--my bookcases. Here are some that you may be familiar with: <i>Getting Organized from the Inside Out</i> by Julie Morgenstern, <i>Clutter's Last Stand</i> by Don Azlett, <i>The Messies Manual</i> by Sandra Felton, and many others. These are three, though, that I've found helpful in my own war against clutter.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">No matter what book you use, or what strategy you decide to employ, the first thing you need to do is draw up a plan of attack. Don't just dive in because that can lead to frustration and a worse mess. Then try some of these strategies:</span></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Start with one room, or one part of a room, at a time.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Divide the job into several smaller jobs.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Try to enlist help from family or friends if you can't do it alone.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Have whatever materials you will need ready, such as boxes labeled "Toss," "Donate," "Sell," "Keep," or whatever works for you.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Decide how long you will work, and set a timer. Say you set the timer for 20 minutes. At the end of that time, decide if you want to keep going or if that's enough for the day. If you decide to go for another 20 minutes, that's fine. Just don't overdo.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Schedule in breaks so you don't wear yourself out one day and do nothing the rest of the week. After you finish one of the smaller tasks, take a coffee break and sit outside for 10 minutes, or listen to your favorite music.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">When you finish the task set for the day, evaluate: what worked for you? what didn't? what can you do differently next time?</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Reward yourself for a job well-done, even if all you cleaned off was an end table. By doing a little bit at a time, over time, you'll reap the reward of a more orderly home and the satisfaction of what you've accomplished.</span></li></ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">There are also clutter support groups online, such as http://flylady.com. Or, talk to a couple of your friends about getting together and taking turns helping each other with the decluttering with the hostess serving refreshments afterward.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">What are your clutter issues? Have you tried using a book, or a support group? What worked for you? Share your thoughts and ideas in the comment section below.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Next: Dealing with Paper and Junk Mail</span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-8316428519225207542010-03-22T14:27:00.013-04:002010-03-23T01:23:10.007-04:00All Plans Are Tentative<div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself." -- Anna Quindlen</span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The above quotation is one of the Story Circle Network's writing prompts for this week, and it seemed like the perfect way to begin the first-quarter evaluation of my goals for this year. How about you--are you still working on the goals you set back in January? Did you give up before the month was out, or are you making progress? Did your initial enthusiasm for accomplishing great things this year peter out in the light of reality? Did you expect too much of yourself, too many changes, too many projects, and get bogged down in them all? Did you give up and decide to try again next year? Or are you still going strong?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">No matter how good our intentions, life has a way of throwing us curves that derail even the best-laid plans. Then we beat ourselves up because we didn't do what we said we'd do, and before we know it we have talked ourselves into giving up altogether. If we can't be perfect, we might as well quit, right? Wrong, because perfect doesn't exist. We are humans, and being human means being imperfect. Don't let a false, unrealistic ideal prevent you from doing anything. Do what works for you.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">When I began sharing my goals in January, I had no way of knowing I would sustain another hand injury in February, which greatly hampered my ability to type and keep up with my blog and other writing goals. Also, when you live with chronic pain and illness, as I do, the reality is that all plans are tentative because you never know from one day to the next how you will feel, or how much energy you'll have. Fortunately, my family and friends have come to understand this.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Even if you've gotten off course, there is no need to give up entirely. Take some time right now to review the goals you set in January. Looking back over the past three months, what were your problem areas? Instead of allowing yourself to be overcome with discouragement, take this opportunity to reevaluate and prioritize your goals. Make note of what was working and what was not. Did you take on too much given the amount of time and energy you have? Looking at your goals, decide what is the most important thing for you to accomplish this year, and focus on that one goal. Work on the others as time permits, but let go of the guilt if you have to put those off for later. Now that we're three months into the year, you're in a better position to evaluate what is realistic for you and what is not.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">My overriding goal for this year was to find at least one thing each day for which to be thankful or grateful, and to strive to maintain a positive attitude and outlook. Although, at times, this has been difficult, it has been a valuable challenge and daily reminder of the blessings in my life. Abraham Lincoln said, "If you look for the bad in people expecting to find it, you surely will." I believe the inverse is also true, and not just about people but about events. If you look for the good--in people, in life-- you will surely find it--and I have. Moral: Make a game of it, a personal challenge to find even one good thing each day, and it will improve both your mood and your outlook.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The second goal was to begin revisions on my work in progress. I got off to a good start, then lost momentum with the hand injury and have had a hard time getting back into it. Since this goal is important to me, I have once again hooked up with my writing buddy from last November's National Novel Writing Month, for mutual support, encouragement, and accountability. As of today, I'm back on track. Moral: If you got derailed, pick up from where you left off and keep going. Don't make quitting an option. Schedule in "breaks" to allow for unexpected interruptions in your plans.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The third goal was to declutter one day a week. This goal has become a habit, now, even though there have been three Thursdays (not consecutive) when it wasn't possible to do this: twice because of my hand injury, and once because of an appointment that took up the afternoon. Even so, I have made good progress, and even spent two days decluttering one week to make up for missing it the week before. Moral: Be flexible. If you have to miss working on a goal on it's scheduled day, work on it a different day...or work on it two days that week. Don't be so rigid that you miss opportunities to make progress.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Goal four was to join two offline writer's groups. In February, I joined the Women's Story Circle Network, founded by author Susan Wittig Albert in 1997. Their mission statement is to help women share the stories of their lives and raise public awareness of the importance of women's personal histories. However, I have not yet joined a second writing group because I realized I needed more information about the degree of involvement and time commitment that might be required, before taking that step. Moral: Perhaps it's better to start with one group, and be able to really participate, than to join two and not be able to give either one the time or attention to make the experience a valuable one.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The last goal was to get a package of memorabilia from my mother's house mailed to my brother. I hadn't realized the emotional impact, nearly two years after her death, that dealing with her things would still have. That, combined with the physical exhaustion of chronic illness, has caused delaying this goal--especially since there is the possibility they might come to visit this spring and would be able to take the box back with them rather than me having to ship it to them. Moral: Self-imposed deadlines are not always meant to be written in stone, especially if there may be more than one option for accomplishing the goal.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">To summarize, when working on goals:</span></span></div><div><ol><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Make a game of it.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Don't quit, keep going.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Be flexible.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Start small.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Look for other options.</span></span></li></ol></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So, how are you doing so far with your goals for this year? If you got derailed, will you join me in getting back on track? We still have nine months, three-quarters of this year, in which to achieve our goals. And for those who have managed to keep working steadily on your goals, share with us what keeps you motivated. Do you give yourself rewards along the way? What works for you? Leave your thoughts/comments in the comment section.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">P.S. One of my goals for this week was to post a new blog entry and bring my gratitude journal up to date. Accomplished! YAY!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-48622012307184463332010-03-08T18:00:00.000-05:002010-03-08T18:16:10.171-05:00It's Not Easy Being Green<div>Even Kermit the Frog from Sesame Street had to admit, "It's not easy being green," perhaps, in part, because the word "green" performs so many different functions in the English language.</div><div><br /></div>As a child, probably the first thing I learned about the word green was that it is a color, and could be made by mixing blue and yellow. Green is abundant in our world. It is the color of grass, leaves, certain insects, moss, pond scum, four-leaf clovers, paper money (until the US got more colorful with its currency), and my favorite outfit. It is also a category of vegetables, and my mother always told us to eat our greens: lettuce, cabbage, broccoli, peas, zucchini, green beans, green peppers, olives, avocados. A green salad was often served with dinner, and in the summer we looked forward to cooked greens: beet greens (especially if the tiny beets were still attached), spinach, Swiss chard, and more. A green light meant "go"--if it faced you, it was safe to cross the street; if it faced oncoming cars, you'd be smart to wait until the light changed. If you were given the "green light" at work, it meant you could proceed with your project.<div><br /></div><div>Green could also mean that something wasn't ripe. I learned quickly that green concord grapes were sour, green bananas were hard, but green tomatoes were delicious if dipped in egg and cornflake crumbs and fried. Green wine meant it hadn't fully matured and was apt to have a harsh, acidic flavor. Green lumber had to dry out before it could be used in building, and furniture made with green wood could splinter when it dried out or pull apart at the joinings. Using green wood in your fireplace would smoke up the house. Green pottery hadn't yet been fired in a kiln, and green cement wasn't fully dried out and hardened, as we discovered when my dog left paw prints in the newly poured foundation of the breezeway connecting the house with the garage.</div><div><br /></div><div>Someone new on the job was green, meaning inexperienced. And, if he'd been working a while but still made mistakes or didn't understand, he was considered "still green." A green recruit was one who had just enlisted in the service; and if he wore his "greens," it meant he had on his blue-green uniform. People from the West referred to people from the East who moved West as "greenhorns." A person could be green with envy, or turn green if he was going to be sick. And if you came here from another country, you had to have your "green card" if you didn't want to get into trouble with the Immigration Service.</div><div><br /></div><div>At Christmas time, churches celebrate the "hanging of the greens," which means they decorate the church with evergreen boughs. And you hope you won't be short of "green" (money) so you can buy presents for everyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>A town square or common is often referred to as the "village green." Closely cropped grass at a golf course might be referred to as the "putting green," a shooting range for archery is also called the "green," and a "bowling green" was used for lawn bowling. </div><div><br /></div><div>Song titles and lyrics even used the word green in them. We listened to "The Ballad of the Green Beret" by Barry Sadler, "Bowling Green" by the Everly Brothers, "The Green, Green, Grass of Home" by Tom Jones, "The Green Leaves of Summer" by the Brothers Four, "Green, Green" by the Kingston Trio, and even the theme song from the TV show, "Green Acres."</div><div><br /></div><div>Today, the word "green" also refers to something that is environmentally friendly. We have green computers, green cars, green fuels, green (natural) fibers, green jobs, and countless web sites that teach us ways in which to "green" our homes by using fuel efficient and environmentally sound appliances and products. And every year communities celebrate Green-up Day in the spring, when people volunteer to go out and pick up litter in their neighborhoods and along the highways.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even the health industry has gone "green." Green smoothies are promoted as an easy, delicious way of getting in the recommended daily servings of fruits and vegetables. Green smoothies are rich in vitamins and other nutrients, are satisfying, give you energy, and can even help you lose weight or maintain your ideal weight. You can find recipes, articles, and how-to videos at such sites as Incredible Smoothies (www.incrediblesmoothies.com) and their soon-to-be-launched sister site, Incredible Raw (www.incredibleraw.com).</div><div><br /></div><div>So, if you're feeling blue, are in a black mood, you're having trouble with some gray areas, or even if life is rosy and you're in the pink of health, maybe what you need is a little "green" in your life. As Kermit says at the end of the song, "I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful, and I think it's what I want to be."</div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-48846089698939479392010-02-27T23:30:00.004-05:002010-02-28T04:04:24.113-05:00The Longest Night<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Today is the anniversary of my father's death forty-eight years ago. He died the day before my oldest brother's birthday, and just two and a half weeks before mine. My father had rarely been sick, and had never missed work due to illness. He always said that the day he couldn't go to work was the day he would die.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That morning, I remember my mother calling to me, worry and urgency in her voice. When I emerged from my bedroom, my father was sitting on the bathroom floor, my mother steadying him so he wouldn't fall over. She told me to take her place while she ran to the phone to call for an ambulance. He had vomited blood, then collapsed from weakness. Two weeks earlier, he had been diagnosed with what the doctor thought was the flu and told to stay home from work and go to bed. Today, it was clear that something much more than the flu was wrong with him, and what he'd said about not being able to go to work went through my mind.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">For years, my father had been plagued by heartburn. Today, he most likely would have been given medication to treat his symptoms and protect his esophagus, but back then he was told to take an antacid, such as Tums, and cut out spicy foods. He was rushed to the hospital, tests were done, and we received the diagnosis--cancer of the esophagus. Surgery was the only thing that might save his life, and the odds were 80/20 against him. But when the doctors opened him up, the odds dropped to zero--every organ in his body, except his heart, had been invaded by cancer. The doctors said they were amazed he had kept going as long as he did, and that there was nothing they could do. They closed him up, returned him to his room, and the family took up vigil at the foot of his bed, waiting for him to wake up. He never did.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I remember sitting in his darkened room with my mother, my three brothers, and my aunt. I remember the nurse speaking to my father, trying to wake him from the anesthesia. I remember the sound of his breathing, the sounds of monitors to which he was connected, and the sound of the clock on the wall. When he stopped breathing, all of the other sounds stopped, too...except for the ticking of that clock. In addition to losing my father, I felt I had lost my sense of security, as well as my childhood.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Longest Night</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">When I was thirteen,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I sat beside my mother</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">at the foot of his bed,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">listening to the steady</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">of the clock on the wall,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">to the steady</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> drip - drip - drip of the IV,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">the s t e a d y</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">R I S E</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> and f a l l</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">as the lungs</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">F I L L</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, e m p t y, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">F I L L</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">as the nurse takes his pulse,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">as the light outside grays to dusk,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">blackens to night,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">as the steady</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">of the clock on the wall</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">counts out my father's life</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">second by second,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">as the drip - drip - drip - of the IV goes on,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the breathing becomes labored</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the chest </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">RISES . . .</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">p a u s e s . . .</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> fa l l s,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and the lungs begin shutting down</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">as the nurse takes his pulse again</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and shakes her head,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and the steady t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">of the clock goes on,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the chest </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">R I S E S </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> . . . f a l l s . . . stops,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">as the nurse removes the IV,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and shakes her head,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the light of my childhood</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">grays to dusk,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">blackens to night,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and he's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">gone</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">--Donna B. Russell</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">© March 30, 2005</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(1, 1, 1); font-family:Arial;"><p align="left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><p align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p></span></span></span></div></span></span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-46261956446768448022010-02-19T18:44:00.001-05:002010-02-19T19:21:42.319-05:00Snow Days<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A few nights ago on the news, the reporter said there had been snow in forty-nine states, with Hawaii being the only exception. I know that many of my friends have been shoveling most of the winter, with snowfalls of two to three feet burying not only lawns, but decks, cars, and shrubs. But in my little corner of Vermont we have only had one significant snowfall, and for most of the winter we've had bare, or nearly bare, ground. For the most part, temperatures, too, have been unseasonably mild...not like when I was growing up.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It seems to me, that when I was a child, we had to really bundle up all winter--thermal underwear, flannel shirts, winter weight slacks or woolen skirts, thick tights and knee-high socks, heavy sweaters, wool jackets or coats, warm woolen mittens, scarves, hats, and fleece-lined boots. It took so long to get ready to go out that we didn't have much time to play before an early dusk, and we were called in for supper.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I remember hiking up the hill to school, sometimes knee-deep in snow because the sidewalks hadn't yet been cleared, arriving at my classroom with numb, red cheeks and nose, and mittens, snowpants, and boots caked with snow. There were times when we had so much snow during the morning that school was canceled in the afternoon and we were sent home to enjoy our unexpected half-holiday sledding or building snow forts and having snowball fights with friends, or building snowmen. Mothers listened to local radio stations while preparing breakfast, waiting for those fateful school cancellations, that meant their plans for the day would be altered because the kids would be staying home. Children also listened to the radio while getting ready for school, hoping to hear the announcement of liberation before they headed out the door. No matter what the conditions, my father would always tell us that we "had it easy," not like when he was a boy. "We didn't have snow days," he'd say, then launch into one of his stories about walking for miles in blizzard conditions to get an education.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Several years ago, while taking a writing course online, my father's tales and a winter photograph inspired the following poem. I want to dedicate this to my friends who have had more than their share of snow days this winter, and to those of us who wish we had at least one or two.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Do you have a favorite "snow days" memory? Please share it in the comments section.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">SNOW DAYS</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Outside,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Gray-limbed skeletons bow and sway</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">While verdant maidens curtsy in the wind.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Cherry-red barns with powdered sugar roofs</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And lemon-meringue windows wait to welcome</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Plaid-clad farmers come to milk rust-brown cows.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Across the street, the white-robed church</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Points a gray, bony finger toward a steel blue sky.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Inside,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Golden pancakes, gilded with butter,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Line up to be baptized in maple syrup.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Clouds of whipped cream</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Swim in mud-brown lakes of cocoa.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bacon snaps and crackles in the black-backed skillet</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Of scrambled eggs and homefries.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Chairs scrape, voices blend in a medley</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Of "good morning," "pass the potatoes,"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And "Thank You, God, for food to eat..."</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bob clicks on the radio, a voice crackles--</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Because of the snow, no school today..."</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And the rest is drowned in loud hurrahs</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As mother groans, and father says, again,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"When I was a boy, we didn't have snow days."</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">--Donna B. Russell</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">© </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">March 13, 2005</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-55462761647388135482010-02-09T19:40:00.003-05:002010-02-09T19:56:07.244-05:00Little Things<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Last week was very busy, one of those in which "life" intruded on my plans, resulting in very few checkmarks on my To Do List. All of a sudden, it's the middle of another week, and I wonder, "Where did the time go?" If you're like me, there are times when it seems too many things demand your attention--those pesky "urgent" things that hound you during the day and keep you from falling asleep at night. Suddenly, mole hills become mountains, draining energy like a hole in a levee, until you're drowning in a flood of undone tasks, including overdue blog entries. Yet, it seems that when we are caught up in busy-ness, it's then that we are more likely to feel we haven't accomplished anything, and life seems empty.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The other day, while reading my Twitter feed, I came across this comment by Mariel Hemingway: "Life is full when you pay attention to the little things." Is that what's missing, I wondered? Do we get so caught up in the multitude of demands on our time that we fail to notice the "little things" that make our lives worth living? Those things that, if we would pause for a moment to notice, would add joy, laughter, and balance to an otherwise stressful day? What would happen if we consciously looked for those things, took even a minute, off and on throughout our day, to seek out the little, everyday, extraordinarily ordinary things?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Weekend before last, I wasn't looking forward to my week. It began on Monday with a dental appointment--just a regular semi-annual cleaning and checkup. No big deal...except that, from the time I was a child, I have felt panic when facing a dentist, my earliest experiences having been just short of torture. It has taken me fifty years to get to where I can sit in the chair without shaking, but there is always that underlying apprehension. Fortunately, my dentist and hygienist understand, and do everything they can to minimize my anxiety. The appointment was uneventful--no cavities, no problems, no shaking chair, and my teeth will remain in their place of origin. So, what "little things" helped to transform a highlly stressful experience into a much less stressful one? Things like my hygienist keeping the back of the chair elevated more than usual because she knew my back was hurting that day, giving me a second cup to rinse out in so I didn't have to twist to use the sink (I can't stand the squirt and suction option), and chatting with me about my kids, her kids, our pets, so that the time passed quickly. As a result, I forgot to be nervous! Her little attentions and accommodations to my needs made all the difference.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Tuesday, we not only had to take our new cat, Micau, for her first vet checkup, but our dog Mindy had a slight problem that needed a professional hand. I was grateful that they were able to squeeze her in before Micau's appointment so that we didn't have to make two trips. Our vet, too, does "little things" that make us and our animals more comfortable during our visits. She bubbles over with love for her job and for her patients, and you can't help smiling as soon as she enters the room. She takes time to pat and talk to them, to answer our questions, involves us in the decision-making process regarding their healthcare, and isn't afraid to show emotion when an animal has to be put down. Her willingness to make herself vulnerable, and the genuine love she shows for our animals, in addition to her skill, makes me trust her and puts our furry companions at ease. Oh, and another "little thing"--she tossed in a complimentary nail trim for Micau.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thursday, I was scheduled for a bone density scan and spinal x-rays. Knowing I'd have to lay flat on my painful back, I was dreading both. Although it hurt to lie absolutely flat with my feet strapped together for the first test, the technician talked with me the whole time, reassuring me that it wouldn't take long and that I was doing great, and asking me questions to help keep my mind off the discomfort. From there I went to x-ray, where the technician not only gave me an extra pillow, but allowed me to bend my knees, relieving the stress on my back. She, too, made sure I was as comfortable as possible and worked quickly. The extra kindness and compassion of those two women made an uncomfortable experience much less so, and the whole process took less than an hour.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Other things that made my life full last week were taking time to watch Micau jump and play with her new little catnip mouse, cuddling with her as she nuzzled my neck or touched her little pink nose to mine; Meisha, our other cat, seeking me out and curling up beside me at night, using my hand for her pillow as she purred us to sleep; Mindy, my service dog, picking up a paper I dropped on the floor without me giving her the command to do so, and coming in to help me in the morning as soon as she heard me stirring; hearing a favorite piece of music on the radio; the beauty of a bouquet of flowers reminding me that spring is not far off; discovering a new artisan bread that is gluten-free and deliciously chewy; finding an exercise DVD that I can do while seated, and being able to actually DO all of the exercises! These things have little, if any, monetary value, but I wouldn't have traded them for the world. They provided the moments of calm in a hectic, painful, stressful week.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kindness, compassion, caring, affection can't be bought, they can only be given and received. They may not pay the rent or put food on the table, or get blog entries written on time, but life would be unbearably bleak without them.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">What are the "little things" that help you get through a stressful day/week/season of life, or that simply put a smile on your face when you need it most? Please share in the comment section.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-67802912312282182992010-01-30T16:30:00.005-05:002010-01-31T01:44:44.619-05:00Smooth Sailing or Stormy Seas? How to Get Back on Course.<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Can you believe we're at the end of January already? For the most part, it has been a busy, productive month for me--how about you? Are you enjoying smooth sailing in accomplishing your goals and maintaining a positive attitude? Are storms battering your boat, making it difficult to make any headway? Is your boat at a standstill, caught in the doldrums, waiting for something to get you moving again? Have you been blown off course by unexpected things popping up and taking up your time? Hopefully, you haven't been shipwrecked altogether!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you recall, I had broken my goals down into doable steps for each month, week, and day. So, let's see where things stand with only one day left in the month:</span></span></div><div><ol><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">begin revisions on my WIP (work in progress) -- began on January 4, but have not made much progress (will talk about this later);</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">declutter one day a week--started on January 7 and, in spite of some inner resistance one day, have kept at it every Thursday and am making good progress;</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">join two off-line writers' groups--just sent in my registration for one today online (it's an offline group with an online presence, too); will be mailing a check and membership form to the other on Monday;</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">mail package off to brother and sister-in-law--working on that this weekend, plan to mail it on Monday.</span></span></li></ol><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So, overall, I'm feeling pretty good about how January has gone. If you're making progress, congratulations. Be sure to celebrate your success by doing something special for yourself.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you're struggling or feel like giving up, step back to take a look at what's going on. What's working? Why is it working? In other words, what are you doing that is keeping you motivated and positive? What's not working? What is keeping you from moving forward and succeeding? What do you need to do in order to get back on course?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">As I sat down to evaluate my own progress, I discovered that what's working for me is having my daily tasks assigned to certain days of the week, writing them on a To Do List so that I can check them off at the end of the day, and keeping the list short. Anything that doesn't get done, gets added to the next day's list; but if it doesn't get done that day either, it waits until its scheduled day the following week. It might seem odd to put something off almost a week rather than continuing to carry it over, but there is a good reason for this. If I continue to carry an undone task over, day after day, it will be a constant reminder that I'm not meeting that goal and my To Do List will grow out of control and be overwhelming. I will perceive it as a daily failure, which will breed negative feelings, which will make me resistant to tackling the task as it looms larger and larger in my mind. Instead, if I reschedule it to the following week's assigned day for that task, I can progress through the rest of the week's tasks unencumbered. When it comes up again the following week, I will have had five days of success behind me before tackling this task again, so will be able to approach it in a more positive frame of mind. Then, I can make that my first task for that day to make sure it does, in fact, get done. Each success is positive reinforcement for believing that the next task can also be accomplished.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So, what happened with my book revisions? I started off strong, then hit a snag. Maybe I hadn't let the book simmer on the back burner quite long enough and was still too close to it, or maybe it's because I prefer making corrections with pen and ink instead of on the computer (though I prefer the computer when doing the writing), or maybe it's because I hadn't yet set up a schedule with my writing buddy for mutual encouragement and accountability. Perhaps I was a little overambitious given my health issues, doctor appointments, the change in our family constellation (we adopted a new cat toward the end of the month and are helping her adjust to her new home, humans, and animal "siblings" and find her place), and the day-to-day responsibilities attendant to running a home.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Instead of beating myself up over it, I looked instead at what I'd accomplished. In addition to the things listed specifically in my goals for the month, I'd also taken positive action regarding my health and given an abandoned cat a forever home. So, what about the book revisions? They'll be number one on my goals for February when I sit down tomorrow to see what I want to accomplish during the second month of this year. Another, will be to talk with my writing buddy to set up how we want to hold each other accountable.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">What were your successes in January? What caused you problems? What lessons did you learn, and what action are you taking as a result? Share your comments, gratitude list, and questions in the comment section. Let's encourage one another as we head into February.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">For help on specific topics, you might like to take a look at change expert Mary Jane Ryan's blog at </span></span><a href="http://maryjaneryan.wordpress.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">http://maryjaneryan.wordpress.com/</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. In addition to current articles, scroll down to the menu on the right with articles archived by topics including weight loss, tips for achieving goals, gratitude, growth, how to create lasting change, and much more.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-41959403999168751312010-01-23T17:25:00.010-05:002010-02-09T05:08:30.604-05:00Are You Too Attached?We can struggle for years with a problem--a habit we're trying to break, an addiction, weight loss, a job, a relationship--and then, in a single moment, we have an epiphany, that "ah-ha" moment when the thing we've spent so much time and energy trying to figure out or bring about, suddenly snaps into focus and becomes clear. It's like the moment in every episode of "Murder, She Wrote" (one of my all-time favorite TV series) when someone utters a seemingly innocuous remark and Jessica Fletcher says, "That's it! Of course!" and you know she has just figured out "who done it." This week, I had just such a moment.<div><br /></div><div>For several years I've subscribed to life coach Cheryl Richardson's online newsletter, and always find her articles enlightening and inspiring. A couple of days ago, while perusing her website, I clicked on an application called "A Touch of Grace." The idea is to click on the app, close your eyes and focus on a challenge you're facing, then click one of several twinkling stars to receive a "grace" card.</div><div><br /></div><div>Before I go any further, I want to make it very clear that I'm not superstitious, nor do I seek spiritual guidance from internet applications. But I do know that there is a power in the universe that is greater than we are, and that this supreme intelligence often uses simple things to confound the wise. So, when I clicked on a particular twinkling star, I wasn't expecting some deep revelation, but neither did I feel it was beyond the realm of possibility for God to use just such a simple thing to get my attention.</div><div><br /></div><div>At my recent physical, for the first time in my life, some of my bloodwork came back with numbers that exceeded the normal range. Although I try to eat a healthy diet, my weakness is carbs: pizza, pasta, breads. After 61 years, the "free ride" was over, and my love affair with carbs had just smacked me upside the head--that wake-up call I mentioned last week. I immediately went into a 12-hour funk. Then I thought, "Okay, you made the commitment to be more positive this year. Here's the first test...what are you going to do about it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>As a former teacher, board president, and committee chairman, my philosophy was to never ask a student or colleague to do anything I wasn't willing to do myself. I had shared on this blog that I was going to live in a positive way this year, and had invited others to take up the challenge with me. So, instead of allowing myself to get bogged down asking "Why me? Why now? Why did this happen when I try to be so careful?" I decided to ask myself, "What can you DO to change</div><div>this?"</div><div><br /></div><div>The first thing I did was schedule an appointment with my doctor to discuss the results of the blood work and come up with a treatment plan to get those numbers back into the normal range--a positive action. Then, I reminded myself that my blood pressure, etc., had been fine just six months earlier, before I injured my right hand and ended up in a splint and physical therapy for five months. During that time, I'd let my good habits slip, and I'd had a hard time getting back to them. So, there was every reason to believe this situation could be turned around--positive attitude.</div><div><br /></div><div>I began doing some simple stretches, began keeping a food journal again, and took stock of what needed to change (get back to eating more fruits and vegetables and fewer processed carbs), and wrote down a list of things to discuss with my doctor. As soon as I'd done those things--no, actually, as soon as I'd made the <i><b>decision</b></i> to do those things--my anxiety evaporated and I felt more in control, more at peace. It was at that point that I happened on the Touch of Grace app with the twinkling stars, closed my eyes, and thought about the challenge of losing weight since limited mobility and chronic pain make it extremely difficult for me to exercise. I opened my eyes, clicked on a star, and watched it morph into a "Grace card" that said, "Let go." It went on to say, "When we release our attachment to the outcome, we allow the power of grace to work its magic."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ah! Release the <b><i>outcome</i></b>!" Stop focusing on losing weight and concentrate on eating a healthy diet and moving enough to maintain as much flexibility and strength as possible. That wasn't really all that much of a revelation, though, because I'd heard that before--many times. But it made me feel more positive, less anxious about those pesky elevated numbers. I'd made a decision to do something about it, and that, in itself, made me feel better.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then, a couple of days later, I had a really, truly Jessica-Fletcher-I-know-who-did-it bolt-from-the-blue revelation. Release my ATTACHMENT to the outcome. Obviously, my goal was to (a) get healthier, (b) get those numbers back into the normal range, and (c) lose weight. But all of a sudden I realized that as long as I held on tightly to the outcome, as long as the end result was my focus, I would never achieve my goals. Why? Because by stressing out over it, I'm engaging in self-sabotage.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you're constantly focusing on what you're going to eat, what you ate that you shouldn't have eaten, how many times you've failed in the past, how hard it is to stick to a diet, and all the other defeatist self-talk we engage in, you're never going to lose that weight. Not only that, but it will affect your attitude about other things, too, and you won't be able to enjoy your day-to-day life. You are so attached to trying to make yourself lose weight, the harder you try, the more you fail. But if you focus on eating healthy and living a healthier lifestyle, and focus your attention on other things in life, the weight will come off over time. Eventually, your body will reach its goal and in the meantime, you'll be healthier and happier.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I really let it sink in that I needed to release my ATTACHMENT to the outcome, I began to relax and enjoy making the changes in my life that I'd set as goals for this year. Instead of worrying about the destination, I started enjoying the journey. Instead of fretting over how much there still is to accomplish in order to reach my goals, I began to take pleasure in, and feel energized by, the daily progress being made. Instead of behaving like a drill sergeant about my goals, I let go of my attachment to them and made room for grace to manifest itself. </div><div><br /></div><div>Are you too attached to your goals? Are you putting so much pressure on yourself that you want to just give up and stop trying? Maybe it's time to let go of your attachment to the goal and show yourself some grace so you can enjoy the journey. Let me know how you're doing in the comment section.</div><div><br /></div><div>[If you'd like to check out Cheryl Richardson's website, newsletters, or try the Touch of Grace app, visit her website at http://cherylrichardson.com]</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-848277824637509848.post-6874396812722900632010-01-15T05:00:00.003-05:002010-01-15T06:31:27.325-05:00How Can Anyone Stay Positive in the Midst of Tragedy?<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Just two weeks ago we entered 2010 with a sense of optimism and hope for a better year...just as we do every New Year's Day. For many of us, the last strains of "Auld Lang Syne" were still ringing in our ears, and "Happy New Year" was still on our lips, when things seemed to take a nosedive. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Shortly before 2009 ended, my son-in-law's uncle died suddenly, and a week later his fraternal grandmother passed away -- a very rough ending to the old year. Then, less than two weeks into the new year, his maternal grandmother also died. A couple of days later, a 7.0 earthquake leveled much of the island country of Haiti, leaving unimaginable death and destruction in its wake. Local newscasts reported that car and snowmobile accidents had taken the lives of other people's family members, and a talented folk artist took his own life. Both close to home, and on a broader scale, it didn't look like 2010 was off to a very auspicious start after all.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">How can anyone stay positive when their world is turned upside down by the loss of a loved one, the devastation of a natural disaster, the loss of a job, the breakup of a marriage, the diagnosis of a chronic or terminal illness, or countless other things that make us ask "Why?" and want to throw up our hands and hide in a dark corner.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you're looking for an answer, I don't have one...at least, not the one you may be looking for. It's natural to ask "why" or "why me" when bad things happen to us, to those we care about, or even to strangers who live half a world away. And, unfortunately, it's human nature to want to point the finger in blame.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Being positive does NOT mean ignoring the reality of injustice and human suffering. It does NOT mean pasting a phony smile on my face and telling the world I'm "just fine" when I'm not. It does NOT mean living in denial, spouting empty platitudes, or pretending to have all the answers. What it DOES mean is doing my best to respond to negative things, people, comments, situations in a positive way instead of becoming negative myself. I can rail against the injustice of a country being senselessly reduced to rubble, but that won't help alleviate the suffering of its people or rebuild their homes. I can pronounce angry judgment on those who abuse children, commit murder, or torture helpless animals, but that won't help the victims or comfort those they leave behind, nor will it put the criminals behind bars. I can blame my company, my boss, my coworkers, or the President for losing my job or my home, but that won't provide shelter or food for my family, nor will it help me find employment. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">When we ask "why," we're often asking the wrong question. Unless we know the answer to "why" and can do something about it, that question only serves to keep us focused on the negative and prevents us from doing anything constructive. "Why" either makes us look outward for someone else to blame, or makes us look inward to blame ourselves, making us feel guilty and depressed. So, if "why" is the wrong question, what are the right ones?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Asking "how" or "what" is much more productive when faced with negatives. For example, with the disaster in Haiti, it helps no one to ask why this happened. But if we ask "how" or "what," those questions can be answered and produce positive action to alleviate suffering. We can pray for the people of Haiti. We can donate money to relief efforts. Some can even volunteer as relief workers and go to Haiti to personally lend their strength, time, and energy to assist those in need.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">What about things closer to home? If we lose a job, we can ask what we need to do to find a new one, and take positive action: update a resume, start reading job ads and setting up interviews with prospective employers, see what lessons and skills have been learned at the old job that may help us to be a more desirable employee. We can also ask how we can manage until that happens and take action on that front: register for unemployment, see where we can cut expenses, sell things we don't need, apply to a temp agency while looking for permanent work.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">What about other negative news items: a family whose home burned, animal cruelty, child abduction? For some, positive action might mean turning off the TV to avoid depression. For others, it might mean donating new or gently used items to replace what the fire victims lost, volunteering at the local humane society or donating to one of the many animal relief organizations, or signing up for Amber Alerts on their computer.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The next time you find yourself asking "why" or "why me," stop and ask yourself two things: (1) does this question have a cause/effect answer, and, if so (2) will the answer help change the situation or make me feel better? If the answer to these questions is "no," consider asking some "how" or "what" questions that will result in positive action.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Staying positive isn't easy, and we need to be gentle with ourselves, and forgive ourselves when we fail. It takes work, practice, and patience in the daily-ness of life. It is a discipline to cultivate, not a prize to be won. Sometimes, the most positive thing we can do initially is to allow ourselves to feel our emotions, give ourselves time to grieve, reach out for support, and just keep breathing. But eventually, we need to take action, to move forward. And, sometimes, when we reach beyond our own need to help someone else, we'll suddenly realize that we've found the strength to meet our own as well.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">How do you deal with negative people/situations? What keeps you going when you feel like giving up? What helps you stay positive when bad things happen? Share your thoughts in the comments section. You can also share your daily gratitude list for the past week. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div>Donna B. Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18095949613831165406noreply@blogger.com11