Oct 292019
 

boxer dog faceUntil Alex came along, I’d never once had the urge to put a dog in a dress. It’s neither dignified nor necessary. Too anthropomorphic for me. And besides, for more than two decades I have lived in places that don’t have trick-or-treaters.

Last year was different but, then again, so is Alex. A mellow, white, deaf dog sandwiched between two intense German Shepherd ladies, he provides relief. He’s funny. And calm. We need him around here. And sometimes we underestimate his depth. Last Halloween was a case in point.

It’s still hard to give context to a week of bomb threats through the mail, a shooting at a supermarket, and a massacre in a temple while people worshipped. I can’t. It’s still beyond my ability to comprehend. Grief. Sadness. Rage. Helplessness. I didn’t know how to feel, never mind what to do.

It’s still hard to give context to a week of such overwhelming violence. I can’t. Click To Tweet

Frenzy in the News, Red Sox & a Dog in a Dress

The week wore on and the news had folks in a frenzy. Despite doing much of my work online, I minimized time on social media. The world was far too crazy and I was making my best effort to close it out. To read. To meditate. To think things through. As a lifelong New Englander the world series of baseball provided a welcome distraction.

Of course watching the news wasn’t a great idea, either. Sometimes I’m still naive enough to think that information aides in understanding. It often does. But this time the news — regardless of the leanings of the outlet — bordered on hysterical. More guns. Less guns. Armed guards. Arm the teachers. Don’t leave the house. Politicians can’t fix it. Politicians all lie. Love is the answer. Fight back. F*ck it. Numb. Confused. Heart-broken for strangers. Worried about area first responders. Who’s got the answers?

For me, on this day, it turned out to be a dog in a dress.

F*ck it. Numb. Confused. Heart-broken. Who's got the answers? For me, on this day, it turned out to be a dog in a dress. Click To Tweet

Honey I Lost the Dog

The dogs love it when Favorite Husband and I settle in for a movie or a ballgame. They snooze and cuddle and cruise for snack remnants on the floor. Alex, my goofy little boxer boy, usually cuddles up with my feet — it helps him know when I leave the room. So looking around and not white dog on back smilingfinding him was a bit unsettling. Unfortunately, finding him did little to put my anxiety to rest.

To enjoy the newly cooler weather we had been leaving the front door open to the screen. There he was: nose to screen, wagging his entire little butt end like crazy. He was watching our usually quiet street like a movie. There were fire engines and multi-jurisdictional police departments represented by cars that lined the streets flashing bright strobes of various colors. There may even have been an ambulance or two. I don’t know. I didn’t go out. The police vehicles carefully blocking each neighborhood driveway were a clear enough message: stay put.

It felt as if the news had come way too close to home and I didn’t like it a bit.

Multi-jurisdictional police cars with their blinding strobes. It felt as if the news had come way too close to home and I didn't like it a bit. Click To Tweet

 

Welcome to the Neighborhood, It’s Not Always Like This

I know most of my neighbors but there were a few recent arrivals. We knew there were little kids in the house diagonally across and that nobody seemed speak English. At first I didn’t understand the feeling of urgency  attached to my need to meet them but chaos around the country made me want to do something special. Something welcoming.

Sometimes the internet is wonderful.

Have you heard of “booing”? Apparently it’s a cross between Secret Santa and reverse trick-or-treating. And while much of our neighborhood was not ready for the full “boo” experience, Favorite Husband and I decided to try some creative outreach to our newcomers. While he went out to buy a plastic a plastic pumpkin head and some goodies, I dressed Alex the boxer in his Halloween finest: a tutu left over from a year or two before.

Boo, a tutu, and a fine how do you do... Click To Tweet

Boo, a Tutu and How Do You Do

dog with pink tutu around his neck

When we headed off to deliver the goods, he somehow knew it was different from a regular walk. There was no sniffing or wandering. In a delightful contrast to his froufrou, Alex strutted, with head up and chest out, down the middle of our rarely-traveled street. He was a dog on a mission.

And his bravado was well received. Two preschoolers, a young teen, an infant and their surprised mother got quiet for a moment as we turned up their driveway. Then came the giggles. And the smiles. Some Spanish. Some English. A plastic pumpkin head full of candy.

And the most special part of all: love from a dog in a dress.

Oct 262019
 

jock-o-lanternI am a displaced New Englander with a Halloween confession to make: I don’t get it. That’s right, when it comes to Halloween I don’t understand how it has become such a big deal. Of course my confusion may be abetted by the fact that, despite two moves of house, lots of willingness, and full preparation, I’ve not hosted a trick or treater in more than twenty years.

I love fall and, despite the less dramatic change of season in northeast Florida, there is a definite change here, too. The humidity decreases (hallelujah!) and the temperature drops a bit. Moving into the 70 degree temperature range (even a little bit) means that some of my southern neighbors will break out their boots and sweaters.

I have a Halloween confession to make: I don’t get it. That’s right, when it comes to Halloween I don’t understand how it has become such a big deal. Click To Tweet

Did You Know… Pumpkin is a Fruit

How did I manage not to notice that Halloween preparations now seem to start right after the new school year and continue until the Christmas “stuff” shows up a week or two before Thanksgiving. As with so may things I don’t understand, I turn to the internet and the hoards of humanity who know more than I do. There I learned that it’s considered good luck to see a spider on Halloween. No offense Halloween-lovers, but I think I’ll dig out my horse shoes and other non-arachnid good luck charms.

I was surprised to discover that Halloween is the second biggest consumer holiday in the US, second only to Christmas. How on earth do people manage to spend So much on pumpkins?  I’m no longer a big consumer of sugar but I know candy isn’t cheap: I learned that more than 35 million pounds of candy corn is produced here each year. I didn’t look for total October candy sales. When the chocolate and caramel are added in, that’s got to be a staggering number.

It’s considered good luck to see a spider on Halloween. No offense Halloween-lovers, but I think I’ll dig out my horse shoes and other non-arachnid good luck charms. Click To Tweet

 

Trick or Trivia: Houdini Died on Halloween

Unless you’re in farm country, corn stalks, hay bales, and pumpkins carry a decent price tag   — and my guess is that “pumpkin spice everything” is not included in the total holiday cost calculation. However Halloween aficionados know the real money goes for costumes. With Halloween having grown from an evening to a season that makes some sense.

Neighborhood parties. School parties. Rec center events. Fairs. Trunk or treats. Do the littles now wear a different outfit for each event? Or, are they still like my son and his friends were: madly in love with a costume that was worn on every opportunity they could create. Sometimes they even tried to sleep in them.

Hollywood Has a 24-Hour Ban on Silly String

Something about those costumes make sense to me. Creating dress-up boxes for the little kids in my life and putting together homemade costumes can be a lot of fun. ( I say “put together” as my sewing skills are, at best, minimal.) The one I remember most fondly is the fully-wrapped mummy. Superman was kind of fun, too.

Pretending to be someone else has value. It’s an interesting paradox, don’t you think? On the surface, a mask helps a person hide yet it seems to reveal as much as it hides. Click To Tweet

Pretending to be someone else has value. It’s an interesting paradox, don’t you think? On the surface, a mask helps a person hide yet it seems to reveal as much as it hides. Pretending opens doors.  Introverts find social energy. Writers develop new points of view. Little kids learn empathy. The ability to see things through another’s eyes is a very real super-power, is it not?

Here are some other thoughts on the subject.

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth. ~ Oscar Wilde

It’s the monsters that don’t wear costumes that scare me the most at Halloween. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

No one can long hide behind a mask; the pretense soon lapses into the true character. ~ Seneca The Younger

What are your thoughts on Halloween? Do you celebrate or not? Do kids come to your house for candy or are you in a trunk-or-treat zone? Please share your thoughts  in the comments below!

 

 

 

Oct 232019
 

Still back home after so many travel adventures and schedule disruptions — and it still feels wonderful. (And, no, I don’t care how positive my attitude is on any given day, I still cannot bring myself to call a hurricane evacuation an ‘adventure’ — at least not this last one. Sue me.)

Being back home gives me the security to dig in to new projects and make big strides on some of the longer term variety. Oddly, being back in the office is stretching me in several areas: creativity, productivity, and congruence. I feel challenged to do good work while maintaining healthy boundaries, particularly in my commitment to build on some recent health and fitness gains.

Back at Work at Home

Working from a home office has not always been a body-friendly activity: I can sit too long, exercise too little, and quickly revert to old, unhealthy eating habits. But my newly rekindled appreciation for being here finds me setting up new routines. This sort of scheduling extends beyond laundry and groceries — I’ve been making exercise appointments with myself— and actually keeping them. (I may be sharing this with you to help me stay accountable. We’ll see.)

Working from a home office has not always been a body-friendly activity: I can sit too long, exercise too little, and quickly revert to old, unhealthy eating habits. Click To Tweet

The temperature here in my still new-to-me home turf is starting to break. And while cries of “It’s fall y’all” still seem a bit premature, the occasional rainstorm, crisp morning, or an extended breeze let us know that cooler temperatures and more comfortable outdoor time are on the way. The dogs are happy — and paying closer attention every time I lace up my walking shoes.

Concept. Attitude. Place.

Last week’s post and some of your comments challenged me to think more about the concept of ‘back home.’ Yes, sometimes it’s a concept. Sometimes an attitude. Only occasionally is it a physical place.

Sometimes ‘back home’ is a concept. Sometimes an attitude. Only sometimes is it a physical place. Click To Tweet

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned. ~ Maya Angelou

You don’t teach morals and ethics and empathy and kindness in the schools. You teach that at home, and children learn by example. ~ Judy Sheindlin

Your body is your temple, it’s your home, and you must decorate it. ~ Gabourey Sidibe

Every day is a journey and the journey itself is home. ~ Matsuo Basho

I’m really quite simple. I plant flowers and watch them grow… I stay at home and watch the river flow. ~ George Harrison

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. ~ Robert Frost

All I was doing was trying to get home from work. ~ Rosa Parks

Middle age is when you’re sitting home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it’s not for you. ~ Ogden Nash

 

 

Oct 162019
 

Home is where the heart is. Where the dogs are. Home is where there’s always something that needs attention — could be laundry or groceries or dust bunnies and dog hair. Yes, home is where there’s always something that needs attention and today that makes me smile. I’ll get to what I can and the rest can wait. I’m home from a few more adventures than I’d anticipated, settling in, and happy about it.

The travel has been a little overwhelming: Favorite Husband and I took driving vacation which was quickly followed by a hurricane evacuation and a short visit from our now Krakow-based son.  The stars lined up for fairly spontaneous European adventure with a close friend and, finally (at least for a while, I hope) the 15-hour round trip drive to my first major German Shepherd Dog show. I’m bruised and sore and happy.

Seeing with Fresh Eyes

It’s interesting to be able to see home base with fresh eyes. Upon each return, we’ve managed to create fairly large donations to our local thrift store. My clothes closet is about 90% Kondo’d and roughly 500 linear feet of bookshelves have had a healthy trim. I’m getting ready to do it again. There was a time I couldn’t let go of that sort of thing: meaningful items just disappeared. At the time I didn’t get it. I think I’m glad. Healing and spontaneity and wonderful, enriching experiences that seems to make “stuff” less important.

There was a time I couldn’t let go: meaningful items just disappeared. Click To Tweet

Over the past few months I’ve met some wonderful people — and some real stinkers. The good ones have far outnumbered the others who, for better or worse, have provided me with lots of laughs. After all, the rude, the arrogant, and the entitled miss out on so much. Maybe they were put in my path to create contrast — like in a painting.

And now I’m home, hanging around with Favorite Husband and all three dogs. Back home in my lovely office. Taking care of the to-do list that sort of blew out to sea with the last major hurricane threat: a painting to the frame shop, an area rug to the cleaner. My book club starts up again tonight. Some chapters take an evening, others a month or more. And while the book discussion is good, the connections developed and deepened between the participants are even better. Close friendships with other women are another type of home.

Finally taking care of the to-do list that sort of blew out to sea with the last major hurricane threat... Click To Tweet

When Home is a Trap

There have been times that “home” made me feel stuck. Trapped. Overwhelmed. A partner who was impossible to satisfy: nothing was ever big enough, neat enough, tasty enough, or clean enough. The only item in the dirty laundry basket was usually the one he ”really needed.” Same for the groceries: whatever we were out of was what he wanted. Unfortunately, I loved him. So I tried.

The music was wrong. My clothes and my job were wrong. My friends were wrong. I was wrong. Always, always wrong. Despite owning the building and paying all the bills, I never, ever felt at home. Life was good when he was happy so it was my goal to keep him that way. And when the moments of happiness got shorter and further apart, I tried harder.

I began to sleep with easy-on clothes and shoes on the floor, just under the edge of my bed. I hid an extra key to my car. The day he finally hit me was one of the best days of my life: the emotional abuse was insidious. When he crossed the line, it was in a big way and I could no longer ignore it.

And here I am, reveling in being at home while sporting large bruises and being unconcerned about who sees them. I feel such gratitude about not caring whodunnit: I did, while I was out having fun with dogs and friends.dogs and friends. On my last adventure I tripped, resulting in some pretty intense bruising on the poor arm I used to prevent a much bigger fall. And when I was finished, I got to come home to a safe place. A very safe place.

But It’s Life and Death

How did I get from fun and adventure to domestic violence? Maybe it’s gratitude for the contrast. Or maybe it’s because a pink tsunami of well-funded breast cancer awareness groups have long ago overshadowed Domestic Violence Awareness month. While I appreciate the progress that has been made in treating breast cancer, I know that domestic violence thrives in secrecy and darkness. It’s not a sexy cause. There are no cute slogans. People don’t think about it — until they need to.

Domestic violence thrives in secrecy and darkness. It’s not a sexy cause. There are no cute slogans. People don’t think about it — until they need to. Click To Tweet

There are millions of men and women who are not safe in their homes. Some are well aware of their circumstances but know it’s not yet safe to leave. Others are like I was: being held emotionally hostage, groomed for the tangible violence to come.

I felt safe in my travels. I feel safe at home — where I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. And dust bunnies.

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The National Domestic Violence Hotline number is 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or online at the Hotline.Help is available, free and confidential 24 hours per day, every single day. (Including holidays.)

The National Domestic Violence Hotline number is 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). Help is available, free and confidential 24 hours per day, every single day. #DVAM2019 Click To Tweet

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