Use A Whip And A Chair

My day started out just fine. On Sunday, we all seem to do as we like at the pace we want to move. No real demands, no phones to answer.  And in my world, I thought I'd take the quiet time to do some laundry. It was all going pretty well.

Until the fitted sheet was ready to join the party. And my Sunday became a fight for my life.

I am a pretty awesome house keeper.  I've been taught how to do most everything that's part of living in a structure.  My Family calls me The Laundry Fairy. Hell, I even know how to can and knit.

But handling a fitted sheet?  I need a whip and a chair.  You cannot back down from the fitted when it comes out of the drier.  You must immediately command control.  If you even blink, the fitted sheet will be on you like white on rice and you will be totally consumed by it; especially if it is the most deadly of all the Fitteds...

THE FITTED KING SHEET!!!!

In my mind, In HollyLand, where I live and it is orderly and sunny all the time, this what I thought I'd end with; look at that!  Isn't it gorgeous?  Can't you just imagine opening your linen closet to see all of the sheets in their contained habitat?  You know you want these little packets of bed linen!  Admit it! Go ahead, I'll wait...

Not one to be outwitted by domestic wild life, I went on-line and studied countless hours of videos and articles.  Here's one that I came across.  First let me say that anything that takes 18 steps no longer falls within the classification of EASY....

...next, and perhaps more importantly, take a look at that woman's vacant, even a tinge fearful, expression.  She knows the fight she's in for and well, she doesn't have much hope of surviving.

So after hours of research and even more time in attempting to replicate the process, this is what I ended with and it is SUNDAY and I don't have to do everything the way it's supposed to be done because it is SUNDAY, (did I mention that?) and it's supposed to be an easy day when I do what I want at the speed at which I want to do it!  So, I am satisfied with what I did. Yes, that mushroom at the very bottom is the dreaded THE FITTED KING SHEET! Don't you dare judge me!! It was Sunday!

But, for those of you who are more evolved than I, and you want to know how to do this correctly so that your closet looks like Martha Stewart sprinkled Magic Martha Dust well, just follow this video. I've watched this so many times, I'm sure this woman has had two more birthdays by now.



You're welcome!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Her Own Domestic Goddess 

Under The Dome

Soaring high above the District of Columbia, at the very top of the Capital Building, the Statue of Freedom has watched since 1863.  She stands on what is called, the Tholus. During the day, one would not notice a change...

...but at night, if you pay close attention, you can see it. Can you tell?

There is a small, but significant difference between these two pictures.

Did you catch it?  While the Capital Dome is illuminated 365 nights a year, the tholus is only lighted when the House of Representatives, or Senate, or both are in an evening session, burning the midnight oil, doing the work of governing.  Well, that's what they say they're doing, even though most of us may dispute how much they ever get accomplished.

I don't know how I've lived this long without knowing this factoid but since I get excited anytime I learn a bit of trivia, I thought you might like to know it, too!

Or, am I the only person who didn't know this?  Did you know? Well, why didn't you tell me?! While most politicians working under that dome don't seem very enlightened or make me feel good...

...the sight of The United States Capital Building always makes me feel good. I feel humble and proud.

It makes me whisper, "God Bless America, her citizens, and those working on our behalf."

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Believes In The Light of Democracy

Blogging Sucked My Brain Dry

It's happened.  Blogging has sucked my brain dry.  It's the only answer there can be.  It's blogging that did it.  I don't have any thoughts left in my brain.  None.

Well, that's not really true.  I have thoughts...about changing the next load of clothes from the washer to the drier.  About the need to clean the stove top.  Wash the kitchen floor....sit and doter through Pinterest.  Look at my Facebook page, yet again.

Do I really need to make the bed again today?  I just did that yesterday.  Who's here to see it if I don't make it?  Who even cares if I do or don't.  I wonder what that stupid dog of mine is barking at now; I don't see a thing.

When I vacuum, do the marks made in the rug have to be even?  When was the last time I had the Orek in for service?  Is there gas in my car?

Should I just break down and put the heat on?  It's only early October for heaven's sake!  Maybe just put on another sweater or something...quit being a wimp.

The clock needs winding. Crap, the dust bunnies are back big time.  So are the Stink Bugs.  I hate these stink bugs!  Wonder why I'm not interested in music lately?

I wonder why I have nothing new or in-depth to write about?  I wonder when I lost my enthusiasm for blogging?  Did I lose it or did I just run out of things to say?  How the hell can someone like me run out of things to say?

How do you avoid running out of things to say?  Was anyone listening anyway?  Did it serve a purpose?  If I stopped, would anyone care?

I wonder what Laura did with that box of all my formal journals I left for her to keep?  They represent hours of my life as I wrote them and I suppose I was hopeful that some of my journey may assist her with hers.  I hope it does.  If she even reads them.

Why do we journal any way?  It's actually the same with blogging.  Why do we blog?  It starts out as a need to connect; it starts out as a portal and conduit for the creative energy built up in all of us.  It starts as a need to share.  To be seen.  To be heard.  To be recognized.

I look back on some of my earlier postings and have to admit that I'm proud of the breadth and depth of the topics I covered.  I'm proud of the writing; it's good and solid.  My writing is directed and sometimes rich and deep.  Now?

Not so much.  And, because I took my eyes off the creative horizon, the travel to my page has dropped off and few new readers find their way to the site.  If I did it for myself, does it really matter if anyone ever comes to read it?  Was that the real reason I started the blog?  However and whatever, it's my fault if readership has dropped off.  Wait.  No it's not...it's Blogger's fault; it has sucked my brain dry.

I intended to blog regularly.  To use it as a creative exercise and a way to keep my skills sharp.  But, days have gone by and I haven't written anything.  NOTHING!  Where did my enthusiasm go?  Where did my ideas go?  I still go to various blogs to see what's being posted there and to check in with writers that I've grown to love and I very rarely even write a comment.  Oh crap...I've become a lurker instead of a participant!!  What the hell has happened to me?!

And then, I stop thinking a fleeting thought of blogging when the next snippet of stupid pops into my brain...

The price of food!  Sweet Jumpin' Baby Jesus!!  The cost of food?!  INCREDIBLE!  Trust me, I'm like most Americans...I'm price sensitive and not price conscious.  And, if I can SEE the cost of food increasing, it's not just a small increase!  It's an increase that is enough to be noticed and it's not just occasionally, it's pretty much all the time!

What the hell are we supposed to do?  How are we supposed to make ends meet?  What can I do better to be more fiscally responsible to my household budget?!  How do I become a better domestic engineer?

Because I may as well embrace that role since my professional life has come to a stand still.  I may as well establish myself as proficient in that capacity as I worked so hard to establish it in my professional life.

Is this the way most people feel?  Does it all seem as momentarily chaotic and fruitless as my thoughts would suggest?  Niggling.  Small.  Inconsequential.  Meaningless to the wide audience.  Tiny.  Silly.  Gnats...thought gnats.  I used to have big thoughts and ideas and now in the space that has been vacated, I've only a swarm of tiny thought gnats. 

I used to have giant thoughts...deep thoughts and ideas worth writing about.  But, maybe we have only a finite amount of those big ideas and notions.  And, maybe, thanks to blogging, I've shot my wad and there's nothing else to consider or share.

Yep...blogging has sucked my brain dry, it seems.  And now the biggest question...

What now?


Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Wonders If This Is Sustainable

Talking To Be Heard

Just because you've decided that now is the best time to talk, doesn't mean that now is the best time for the other to listen.

If you really want to be heard, you need to fight the impulse to spew and pick your moment carefully. 

That is, if your goal is to be heard.  Otherwise, if you just want to give into your every impulse, say what you want to say regardless of whether it has any meaning to another, well go ahead and let fly.

You might think you feel better because you got that off your chest but, don't be angry if you don't get anything meaningful back.  And, please, don't whine, "No one ever listens to me!"

Running off at the mouth is not the same as communicating.  And, timing is everything.

'Nuff said.


Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Always Wishes To Communicate

When Blogs Collide!

"The puppies will be ready for visitors sometime around June 4," Lynn explained. "Gary and I would be happy to have you and Michael bring Rory and Fiona to see them. Would that work for you?"

The chance to see eight wheaten Scotties? To hold them and smell puppy breath and cuddle? You bet. Well, even if it is a good six+ hours of a drive, how many times do you get that chance?! Michael said, "I'll re-arrange my schedule; no way I'm letting you go without me. I need to make sure you come home with only the two dogs you went with!" "They're already going to their homes and are not for sale," I shot back. "That's good, so I'm just along for the fun then!"

Lynn and I met here in the blog world. She is the mad hand behind Rocky Creek Scottie Adventures. And, she and I chat on Facebook as well. I've found her to be loving and generous like many dog breeders. She's got a huge crush on Rory because he's so cute and lovable and she has a mad passion for wheaten Scotties. It seemed a fun chance to visit their farm in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains.

I've often wondered what it would be like to live some place so remotely set, that you always know a car in the driveway is someone who is specifically coming to see you. Always someone you're expecting or who knows the way to your home. A driveway whose crunch of stone means someone you're likely to be happy to see is on their way. That's what Lynn and Gary have there at Rocky Creek.

We spent the evening sitting out on the lawn and getting to know each other in real time instead of blog time. We dined alfresco and Lynn shared the secret to her great salad! We laughed as we watched Rory play with a young cow almost the same color as he, dancing back and forth along the fence. We did get weary of Fiona barking her bossy bark but she wouldn't yield and the cows wouldn't listen to her, so it was pretty much an impasse.

I met her beloved Scotties. Piper and Rory eventually accepted each other enough to sit butt to butt and watch the night fall. We all looked up to witness the gift of a sky heavy with stars because there is no light pollution to blot out their twinkle. I made a wish as a falling star streaked through the velvet above me.

We spent the night tucked under the eaves of a home that is ancient and whispers its secrets if you listen carefully. It was a Walton's moment when the lights downstairs where turned off and the house went completely black...and the night became brighter outside the windows than what was in the room with you. Crickets chirped a lullaby.

The quilts that Lynn and her female kin have made keeping us warm through the wonderfully cool night. Dogs curled at our feet not moving, completely exhausted from a fun night of introduction to cows, other Scotties, and country air.

Morning came and the soft lowing of cows drifted through the windows. The sounds of puppies mewling for attention crept up the stairs to wake us. Big Scots barking from their bedroom as they heard the two visiting Scots coming down the stairs added to the morning serenade.

A wonderful breakfast of muffins and melon. Long chats over coffee and then it was back in the car to make the trip home. A short visit so worth the long drive. Because when blogs collide, the world is made more loving and fun. When blogs collide you learn so much and can't help but be amazed how interesting and fascinating the lives of others are and how lucky we are to learn of them.

When blogs collide, a woman you didn't really know becomes a friend and Rory gets another fan and both he and Fiona now have an Auntie Lynn. A woman who wanted to hug him even though he was a mess from running in the farm grass wet with dew. We now know the good woman and good man who live at Rocky Creek Farm always welcome you.

Yeah, when blogs collide it can be just like that.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Of This And That

I have bits of stuff to share and wanted to catch up on my info snippets.

This book, I've not yet read, but I love this particular Buddhist teacher. Today, I show it because of the title which fits with this quote I came across recently; I think it's worth remembering:

"Mend the parts of the world that are within your reach."

~ Clarrisa Pinkola Estes'

I like it because I often struggle with how one gets started to do good, the trying to make a difference. Every problem or cause seems to be so much bigger than my ability to effectively impact. However, I can certainly begin with Estes' wise advice. And, so long as I know where I am...well, I believe I can make a difference. I am here. I'll reach for those parts where I am.

Next bit: here's a picture of my friend, Mark Pemburn. He has a wonderful way about him. Kind and gentle. Loves to laugh and finds humor in most situations. He's helped me through many a rough emotional spot by sharing his very considered, humble views on lots of topics. But, mostly by sharing his time and being completely present to a spirit in their time of need.

He's married to the most amazing woman. Leanne is strong, proud, brave, true, gentle, intelligent, engaging. And when I think of Earth Mother, she immediately comes to mind. I love these people greatly.

Recently, Mark decided to begin blogging. I can't recommend it enough. He'll be covering lots of issues; I promise you all will make you think. He's a great thinker and a solid, clear writer. I believe you'll enjoy your time with him at Clear And Obscure. Please tell him I sent you over when you go to visit.

He has no idea I've done this today, so leave him a comment and cheer on a new blogger whose work will be a great addition to our world here.

Okay, so you all know that I covet some recognition, just as we all do. And, some of these awards, I really think are adorable. Like this one. I truly have always found it fanciful, colorful, and charming. Thanks to Joanna Jenkins of The Fifty Factor I can now display this cutey on my blog.

The Splash Award

Is given to alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive, and inspiring blogs.

So I want to pass this one along to Ribbon at Fragment Treasures Memories and Liz of The Fragrant Muse because I learn from these women and I love visiting with them as I take away a lot to ponder and consider. Thank you both for your lovely work on your blogs.

Joanna, thanks for thinking my blog is the sort that qualifies for this adorable badge!

And, finally after the emotional day we all had yesterday, Rory wants you to remember:

Be kind to yourself today. Rest, eat well and enjoy your weekend.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

But, Can She Juggle???!!!

Okay, I warn you: This is a rant and it's going to be short as I'm dripping wet. Not kidding, dripping.

I often wonder about this business of multi-tasking, who invented it, how do I find him or her and, as to the rest of what happens next, you don't want to know. That way you can't be hauled into the court room as a witness for the prosecution. Trust me, I'm only looking out for your welfare.

So, here's the thing, we know that life is incredibly different for women and men. For more about my thinking about why that might be, take a read back on Tigers & Berries. But not at this moment because then I'd be forcing you to multi-task and that would just be wrong.

And, when it comes to the most simple of tasks, sometimes it's not fair that it is more simple, or let's say less complicated for our men folk. Taking a shower being today's example:

When Michael gets into the shower, I'm telling you, if he decides to lallygag, it will take him, oh, about five minutes including drying time where he flaps and snaps that towel around like it's the mainsail of a schooner. That extended shower almost never happens. Most of the time, he's in and out in about three minutes. Amazing! Hair washed, body squeaky clean, and he's even one of those wonderful men who squeegees the walls and glass! I know! Lucky aren't I?

We have one of those showers that when you see them in the model home, you're fairly certain you'll die if you can't have one just like it for your very own. Yeah, tile and glass on two sides....lovely. Well, be careful what you wish for! Can I tell you how I hate that shower now? There's no keeping it looking pristine...NO WAY!

So it bugs me. I try to ignore it but it's too big for that. It's a huge rain box staring at me. Taunting me with its streaked self. But, I digress...

I'm in the shower this morning and I look down at the container that neatly holds all of our shower supplies. And, I think, "Cripes, Mike has one body/hair wash. ONE! While I on the other hand have my body wash, my shampoo, my face scrub, a razor, a pumas stone, a luffa!"

Let me remind you, I am not, am NOT a girlie-girl. But, still, I have all this stuff. One thing I take great pride in is that I don't use conditioner. Score one for me. So, I'm still one up on the average chick.

The shower then commences. I wash my hair; I scrub my face; I shave my legs and my underarms; I scrape off my feet with a stone. I run the luffa around. And, I'm exhausted.

It's now a tropical rain forest in the bathroom. I'm certain two Scotties were in the room when I started, but I'll never find them in the fog. Bark so I can locate you!

Now here's where it really gets nuts and you know me, I always get back to the point I started...back to the multi-tasking. Some of you with weak stomachs may want to stop here because the rest of this entry is not pretty. It may fall under the heading of TMI, but it's my blog.

At the very last moment, I decide to hop out of the shower, dripping wet, run like a mad woman to the kitchen to get the bathroom cleaner. Did I mention the front door is open? Why did I go streaking through the house? Because I may as well clean that freaking shower while I'm in it and already soaking wet.

Yep...there's a naked woman standing there, soaked, scrubbing down the walls and glass. Don't look hard you'll likely burn your retinas out. It's seems the easiest way to get it clean! So, water off, me dripping away, standing there to squeegee the walls and now clean glass. Even wipe it down with paper towels.

It's now 25 minutes later than when I started running the water. 25 minutes to his three in the shower. So not fair. And, a simple thing like a daily hygiene ritual has turned into a marathon of multi-tasking! To make it even crazier, I decide I have to go rant about this, so I rush in to the office to fabricate this! Rrrrggggg!

There is one bright spot, though; up until now, I haven't found one good point about the fact that I'm wearing glasses for the first time in my life. The fact that I can't wear them in the shower turns out to be the bright spot...

Without them, everything looks really clean. And, The Queen is very pleased. Clean, exhausted, but pleased.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Hates Housework

The Onion Snow

"This is ridiculous," I huff.

"It's the Onion Snow," Michael replies, "Don't worry, it doesn't last long."

"Onion Snow, what the hell is that?!"

"That's what the late snow that comes in April is called, Onion Snow, because farmers have already put in the onion sets by now."

"I guess growing up in Emmitsburg and helping Mom in the vegetable garden is where you heard that, but that's a new one to me."

"Yep, when you have eight kids, you learn to do as much as you can to make a buck stretch."

"Well, you want to know what I call this crazy snow?"

"What?"

"I call it the, Are You Fin' Kidding Me Snow!"

"Seems like a long title, but okay," Michael replies. Thus the conversation ends.

Yeah....snow. One day, okay maybe. But, I'm on day two of the White Death as my friend, Pete, calls it.

I like snow. Really. But, when you have to hunt for the scraper in April so you can clear off the car?! That's just stupid. If you saw our chaotic garage at the moment, you'd understand how stupid it actually is. But, who wants to leave a snow scraper in their car after March?! By the way, I wish to acknowledge the wonderful work done by Michael in clearing off both chariots this morning before he left. Thank you, My Husband!

I have birds out at the snowed feeder actually seeming a bit puzzled. Can birds wonder, "WTF?!" I'm certain that's what I hear them chirping as they hop about in its depths, making tiny powder puff explosions. Okay, that's kinda' cute...

Cheeky B., the chipmunk is bummed. All that white makes him very easy to spot while he opportunistically feeds at the bottom of the bird feeder. Easier for Rory to go ballistic at the door in an attempt to get at him. I've had to yell at him, "Okay, that's enough," about a million times already. No, not an exaggeration...well, maybe a little...

And, here's the biggest question about the snow in April: Why do we Humans insist on complaining or even making a topic of conversation about the weather?!

Is there one among us who has the power to do a damned thing about it, ever? Not even The Queen of The Universe can do more than regally, "Humph!" Which I will do immediately following this pointless missive. Discussing the weather is equally pointless. Does it ever do a thing to achieve a desired meteorological outcome?

We will go grab our second cup of coffee, stand at the palace window, (okay, it's just the kitchen window, but please don't ruin our illusions/delusions.) We will watch out over the kingdom, and all our woodland subjects out there in the white. We will pull Ourself together in our most commanding QoftheU voice and bellow, "Order! We insist on order in our Universe, immediately!"

And, in the returning silence we consider, if we insist on order, guess it's a good time to go and make the royal bed; it's the only order we're likely to conjure. For, We note the snow is still there. Verily, We are not amused.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka The Queen of The Universe

I Have A Note...

...from my mother excusing my absence today. Well, not really. I just have nothing in my head to share. Other than rain which is coming down pretty significantly. And, strangley enough, the landscapers showed up in this mess to continue the work we started yesterday so, I have to go.

But, there's plenty of other stuff written if you want to visit with me and my previous musings. I'd be grateful. Oh, here's one...if you want to learn more about my mother, and trust me, she was umm, interesting... read On Your Mother's Side.

Who would name a child Norma Lee? "Norma-lee, I'd say it was an odd choice..." That would be my grandmother Blanche; another wild woman. And, if her peculiar name wasn't enough, Norma named us Glenn Lee and Holly Lee. Seems to be an odd affliction of those born in the South, to name all off-spring after the great General and the Lee family. No matter that we are in no way even remotely related.

When I was little, family would sing, in a completely politically incorrect fashion in this day and age, sounding like a B Movie, in a Coolie falsetto, "Haalley Lee, Chinee Girl...."

Loved that...you just know I did. Not. About the 38th thousand time of hearing that great joke, I simply behaved as if I didn't hear them. If you want me to respond, use my name. If you don't want me, then keep acting like a dope. We'll both be happy that way.

As if naming a kid born in July, Holly, wasn't odd enough... but that was Norma for you.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Norma's Kid

Baby Showers And Garden Tillers

Michael is off to retrieve the tiller that we've rented for a few hours this morning. The attempts will be made to till up three new beds in the back gardens. One, is a shared bed for us and the neighbors, where Cindy and I will do our best to plant and tend a garden. I hope we have as much luck with our version of a Victory Garden. I am certain it will not get as much press coverage as the one recently installed at the White House.

After that, I have a baby shower that I must attend. I say must, because they are a true act of love since I actually don't like showers....of any sort. Don't like the silly games...don't like the hours of exclaiming,"Ohhh!," each time a box or bag is opened. I want to bring my gift, make nice, visit, eat, and blow. I know, I'm bad, you don't have to tell me.

And then, I must come get back here and finish yesterday's marathon that I thought would be a snap, but which almost snapped my back. I decided it was time to re-arrange the furniture in the craft room, and then while I was at it, go through my odds and ends and keep what's of value and pitch what is not. What the hell was I thinking???

We, card makers are a sick, twisted bunch. It's like our fingertips ooze glue which adheres any and all stray scraps of paper to our hands. Completely countermanding the desire to throw them away. I now have a gallon bag of odd bits of bright papers...I could use them in cards some day. Well, I could! Don't judge me.

But, while the craft room scornfully laughed at my defeat as I exhaustedly walked away last night...it's in for a show-down today. The Queen will return peace to her kingdom! And, so say all of us!

Well, I think I hear the garage doors, which means it's Tiller Time...one can only hope that it ends the day with Miller Time. Or wine or something.

Step back! She's going in!!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

The Garden Knows

About this time of year, I get the opportunity to expand my patience. We've already discussed how this in an on-going lesson for me. It's all good, then.

I look about outside, I can since nothing is falling out of the sky for a change, and I observe the gardens and think, "Wow, you need a hair cut and a shave or something!" Everything is just a little scruffy. Unkempt. Not really messy, but far from adorable. Like the cute guy who shows up at your door to pick you up for a date and you can't help thinking, "Oh, is that what you're wearing?" Nice but just not quite right. Time to get it back into pleasing order. The gardens, I mean, not the guy. He's on his own...

The longed for sounds and songs of the returning birds is almost surprising. It's like someone hit a switch. Yesterday, there was no sound of birds. Today, I hear a robin...a mockingbird...a nuthatch...a crow. And, far off in the distance, my favorite, the cheeky tiny chickadees.

I begin to clear away the debris that's built up over the long winter. I start snapping off the brown bits and sticks. I remove all the leaves that lay like a soggy brown mat...yuck. I stand up to look around with satisfaction over my hard work...and there's none.

Everything looks the same. Brown. Twiggy. Limp. Unresponsive. Possibly dead. Sigh. I stand and stare at the ground as if I could will something green to shoot out of it! Nothing.

Humph! Where's my reward for being a good steward of my earth? Come now! The Queen is not amused. My fingers are frozen because the earth is still like an ice cube just under the surface and I did pull some bold weeds. My back is tight from the bending because it is out of practice for this. And, the wind has blown a bit too much to be really comfortable out here.

Give me something to work with, here!!!

I stomp inside to get a drink and stretch my back for awhile. And, mustering my determination, I go back at it again. Not sure what I'm looking for, just knowing that I will know it when I see it.

Pushing the mulch this way and that...clearing away some more. Almost giving up. But, no wait, there it is, I see it!!!! The first feathery leaves of a crocus patch....and some daffies attempting to push up through the crust of leaves...yes!

It's really coming after all. Spring is on its way. A full moon to shed light on the warming nights adds to the crescendo. Just when I was thinking it was all gone. It's on it's way.

Patience is a virtue acquired by habit. I have to learn to trust the natural order of things. Even when I think there's no movement or possibility. Most times, things are going on just below the surface. It's all good. As it's meant to be.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Moments of Truth

I woke up this morning and checked my iPhone to make sure it's good to go. Just as I do most nights, I left it plugged into the computer to sync and charge. Not that I have to worry much about my phone being charged; my cell rings so infrequently that it actually startles me when it does jangle for attention.

The battery, last night, showed critically low. I had that ominous doom screen that shows a blank battery except for the blood red bar left at the very bottom. Death eminent. So, what happens usually is, when I get up in the morning I am greeted by a gumby green battery and it's all good to go. Not today, however. Today, I still have the battery of doom. And, I don't have a flippin' clue why that could be. Same iPhone, same computer, same docking cradle. Ah, but wait...

Last night when I synced up, I got a notification about downloading the newest version of yadaya. So, I hit 'yes' and went on to something else. You don't have much choice; if you say no, the gizmo eventually stops working correctly. But, when you say yes, the gizmo may not work correctly, either. A damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. I fear I have become the victim, yet again, of Moment of Truth failure. Which means I'll most likely be on the phone, on hold for hours, with Apple.

Technology is grand when it works as it's meant to, but most of the time for me...it doesn't. In fact, it makes me very nervous. Very easily tweeked when it comes to gizmos. Not very comfortable with the 'bugs' that usually need to be worked out of the first version of the newest software downloads...

I learned that the hard way when I was running a creative services division. It seemed that every other day, one of my creative guys was coming to me, "Holly, I need money to upgrade to the latest version of software for, (fill-in-the-blank)." The problem was that the latest version of software was never inexpensive. Never. Shocking actually. And, if I recommended that we hold off and not install it...well, let me tell you the argument that I got back warning against it was amazing. My photographer, Ben, needed a slew of software. Greg, my graphic artist needed totally different software for his work. Some of the stuff they could share, but there was always a wish list of vast differences. Unending. But, if you're a good boss, and I was excellent, getting what your team needs to be successful is your main focus. And, main budgetary headache.

Being the boss and Queen, I'd win the budget argument. Only to lose the tech war. We did it my way. Once. I'm a quick study. It only takes one hard lesson. So, as I directed, we waited on the next version of the software. And, when the budget permitted we loaded the version after that. Can I tell you? It's like the world ended. None of the programs on the system wanted to play nice with each other any longer. Error messages. Fatal this and that. What an ass-pain.

I have to give my guys credit...although I could read it clearly on their faces, they never once said, "I told you so." Good men.

And, that's how I developed my Moment of Truth Theory. See, when everything is brand new, and all programs start out with the virgin version, they're all on equal footing. They play well with others. But, once the software geeks start developing the next versions of (fill-in-the-blank) they don't collaborate with the other software companies. You don't hear them asking, "We're getting ready to launch our next update. Are you ready with yours so they'll stay compatible? No? Okay, we'll wait." Just doesn't happen.

So, the Moments of Truth get bigger and bigger and the spaces between working compatibility, in reverse correlation, get smaller and smaller. In order to avoid these cascading headaches, you're held hostage to the expenditure of each and every upgrade.

If you only have a couple of software programs on the computer, I suppose it's not that big an issue, but in a creative department, there are many and they are expensive and massive. You just want to pull your hair out and scream, "Can't you all talk with each other so we can keep this coordinated better?!" Nope. Can't be done. So, keep the check book handy.

Just like my life...the more things I have to attend to, the greater the moments of truth when I could be missing something or screwing up. I suppose it's the truth for all of us. And, now that my internal hard drive is older it's so full of information, that I really worry. The problem is, I don't know how to delete files from my brain to make room for new info. I'm just hoping that I don't get a fatal error message anytime soon.

I'd write more, but I have to get on hold for the next 24 hours with Apple. Oh goodie!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Starting A New Week

I read this quote today and I think it's perfect to remember as we go through this upcoming week: Your smile can bring happiness to someone...even if the person doesn't like you.

Smile. Such a simple thing to do. Let's try an experiment. Smile at people as often as you can. Share the reactions you get here on the blog. And, I'm not saying do that cheesy grin thingy we do at times. I mean offer your genuine goodness in your smile. Smile with your eyes. When you answer the phone, a second before you begin to speak, think, "Smile!" See if it doesn't positively change how you sound.

Smile. This isn't so someone who thinks they don't like you becomes your best friend. Let them be entitled to their opinion. Or tied to its weight. But, smile to liberate yourself from caring so much what they think. Smile to lighten your daily load. Smile to push fear and worry away even for the split second it takes. Lift up your being, just as a smile lifts up the corners of your mouth.

Smile. The week awaits.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Lift Up Your Voices

Last night, Michael and I enjoyed a night of symphony music and songs at the Palace Theatre here in Greensburg. It's a great old theater with murals painted in the style of Maxfield Parrish and burgundy brocade on the walls. Ancient box seats and an intimate stage space harken back to a more lavish age.

The seats, maroon plush, are quite small; also an indicator of life in a by-gone era. People were smaller then. Diminutive in fact, compared to us. And, I'm not talking about the unfortunate trend in our becoming a nation of Super-sized people thanks to fast food and other poor eating habits. People were simply smaller.

The smaller people of long ago looked forward to concerts and the symphony. These were part of the Social Season as it was often called in high society. It was a time to see and be seen as much as it was to take in the content of the event. A time for the community to come together and connect.

In a world that didn't know the hum of electronics, you had to be in the presence of musicians if you wanted to hear music. Changed forever now thanks to iPods, radios, televisions, Sirius Satellite, oh name it...you get my idea. All these gizmos mean that you can listen to what you want, anytime you want, wherever you want. But, music is meant to be enjoyed with others as well as a singular activity. Now, we're pretty much singular in most of our activities. Sadly, dwindling attendance at the symphony and other events reflects our growing trend toward isolationism.

However, last night the hall was pretty full, the audience mostly proud parents and relatives of the All Star Choir. Proud, to the point of bursting their buttons, these attendants watched for their particular 'star' in the choir comprised of 18 Westmoreland County schools. Several members of each choral group were selected to represent their high school. What an achievement!

There they stood, crammed on risers, a rainbow of brightly colored choir robes. Quite a sight. And, sing they did. Well, in fact. Enjoyably well. They received thundering applause at the conclusion of the concert along with the Westmoreland Symphony who did a lovely job of entertaining us. I hope the applause rings in the kids' ears for a long time.

The concert was called, Home For The Holidays. Sweet and reminiscent of the hopes we all have. The guest conductor, who lives is Cambridge Mass and works at Harvard was, very much, home for the holidays. Channing Yu, grew up Monroeville and was in the Westmoreland Youth Symphony. Last night, he happily stood at the podium, baton in hand, as the conductor. Fabulous! His family was beaming as proudly as the families of the high school kids.

In an age when we too often hear the bad things that kids get involved in; the damage they can cause; the pain their actions and choices can create, I want to remember those standing there in colorful robes with their families in the audience. It takes energy and effort to live justly in an unjust world. I believe there are more youngsters like them than we know. We only hear about the ones who have lost their way; I prefer to concentrate on the ones who are on their way to good things and becoming solid members of our community.

Congratulations to all of them for making positive choices and to the families who should be proud of their investment in their children. And, to all the Symphony members, Mr. Yu, and the choir, thanks for bringing the gift for music to Greensburg last night.

Namaste' Till Next Time,

Holly

A Lack of Lights

Michael and I have been driving around in the evenings to see the Christmas lights. It's always interesting to see each home's approach to the whole decorating event. Some are meticulously designed and placed. You can imagine the home owner using a gauge marking exact spaces between each light. Next door, you're likely to see a home where, your fairly certain, mice were the decorators. Lumps of lights in odd sizes just hanging about. Just perfect for little critters to curl up in and nest through the cold. I'm sure that's not the intention or effect they were going for but...

You see the home that has only one light string to spare...what do you do with that anyway? Oh, just string it close to the door. And, the quiet homes where elderly folk might live. No going up and down ladders for them and so no lights...only a nice wreath on the front door to usher in the season.

Then there are the homes that either have children running the show, or it's one that hopes to attract children much like the witch was hoping to attract Hansel and Gretel! Lights small and large blinking in random order. Reindeer jumping. Those blow-up things everywhere. Nodding and blowing. Fake snow in plastic snow globes swirling about like it's an Arctic snowstorm. The worst part is seeing them in the morning, Santas, Reindeer, Snowmen deflated, puddled on the ground. Very disturbing sight.

What we are noticing this year on our light tours is a true lack of lights. So many homes this year, without even a wreath on the door to welcome the holidays. Dark. Nothing. What has caused the lack of feeling and anticipation? Is the pace of life too hectic and crazed so that spare minutes to decorate can't be found? Or, has life become so hard for those within those darkened doors that even the notion of putting a candle in the window is too much to manage?

Sad. And, so I'll be saying my prayers for those within the dark walls. I'll hope that the spirit of the holidays can find a crack to enter. A crack in the front doors and a crack in some hearts and minds so that it can enter and bring comfort, if not joy. And, I'll pray that if nothing can be done to salvage this season for those darkened homes, that next year this time, things will be better and the lack of light will be less. God Bless us, Everyone.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly