The Little Old Lady Says... or LOL

Down TIME!

2012-01-16T09:14:00.001-08:00

This little old lady is finally taking a break. We got a lovely opportunity to visit with some friends in Mexico and then at the last minute some friends in California. So we jumped at the chance. However, the first three days on this lovely break, I am catching up on sleep and lots of it. When you are self employed, it is always difficult to get away, and you never can get completely away as long as you have a cell phone. But I was determined to get a break, so last week, I pushed and pushed myself to get as much done as humanly possible, and now I'm more or less paying the piper. I can barely move. But it's ok, I don't have to. I look out my window and it's quiet, and it's sunny. I'm breathing and trying to stop having worry dreams. Yes, the minute I get away, my lovely brain goes into overdrive trying to decide if I'm allowed to relax. It tries to think of all the horrible things that could happen while I'm gone. That's where the wine comes in. The more wine, the less my mind cares. LOL right? Well we'll see how it's going in a couple more days. Maybe my brain will let go after a bit. Maybe today, some yoga.
Look at that. Breathe. Let go.

New Food Blog

2012-01-10T09:17:00.000-08:00

So, I kept thinking about the spaghetti posting last night and realized it wasn't what I wanted to do with this blog. So I am spinning off (like a sitcom hunh?) a food/creative blog for that sort of thing. It's called http://LOLLOVESFOOD.blogspot.com.
I will post appropriately food and creative stuff there and continue to do my kvetching and discovering on this site.
Thanks for reading!!!

Awesome, Simple Spaghetti w/meat sauce

2012-01-09T11:53:00.000-08:00

OK, so my first attempt to write about food and recipes, and I've already screwed up. I forgot to take pictures of the dinner. So the above picture looks like my spaghetti, but isn't. I'll add my pictures next time.
I am Italian. OK, not really, I'm actually 1/2 German and 1/2 Sicilian. But Italian is what I look, and it's easier to explain.
In my family making red sauce is an art form. The irony, though, is no one does it the same way, but we all adopt some of the stuff our mom taught us, and then we change it up.
I think my sister has mastered it, so I have adopted her strategies, mom's strategies and added my own twists.
I truly love meatballs myself, but my daughter has lately taken to meat sauce, so I've come up with a really good meat sauce that doesn't take too long.
Meatballs are another art form, and I will address them in a different entry.
Mama Lisa's Meat Sauce
1 lb. ground beef, I use 85/15
1/2 lb. Mild Italian Sausage
1 Walla Walla or Vidalia onion diced
4 cloves garlic minced
A couple of cans of diced tomatoes
A couple of cans of tomato sauce
(both of these can be less or more depending on your tastes)
A Tablespoon or two of Garlic Powder
A Tablespoon or two of dried Basil
Grated Parmesan cheese in the can and fresh grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and Pepper to taste

1. Brown the ground beef and Italian sausage at Med High
2. Add the onion to the pan and cook until soft
3. Add the garlic and cook a couple minutes until brown but not burned
4. Add the tomatoes and sauce, garlic powder, dried basil, salt and pepper and canned grated Parmesan cheese to taste.
5. Stir and let come just to a boil
6. Simmer anywhere from 1/2 hour to 2 hours, I usually do about an hour.

This sauce always tastes better when it's reheated, so I will save even the smallest amount and add it to a new batch to kind of season the new batch.

Make any kind of noodles you like and put the fresh Parmesan on top....MMMMMMM.

Heavenly new year...

2012-01-05T08:51:00.000-08:00

As I just wrote that title, I realized I didn't mean it in just one way.
The past few days, I have heard dozens of people everywhere I've gone talk about how they couldn't be happier to see 2011 out the door... and don't let it hit you in the butt as you leave...
Joy. It's something that has been lacking for many of us in the past few years.
The reasons are numerous.
Financially -- we have all been suffering. As a result, many of us, myself included, have lost some good friends. Some people drowned in this sorrow and just couldn't bear to face another day, so they didn't. Others of us, just put our heads down and barreled ahead. People have suffered the feelings of shame and futility when they couldn't make their house payments any longer and when they couldn't buy their children the lifestyle to which they had become accustomed. It's been hard, sad and yes depressing.
Most of us who are alive today did not live through the Great Depression, but our parents and grandparents did. We heard stories of it. I grew up with a mom who was a food hoarder and a dad who buys every small luxury device that he can. Both survivors of Depression era parents and habits.
I inherited and have both these traits. I hoard food and small appliances.
I've always known why.
And not to be the endlessly annoying Pollyanna, but coming through these past few years, and still being alive, still with food on the table -- gives me hope.
2012 feels like a page turned. Everyone is pulsing with a bit more energy and yes... joy.
Hope runs through our bodies like a current. I have this feeling that if we all held hands around the world, the energy in our bodies would light up the sky. This energy is powerful and palpable.
Don't waste it. Use it. Let's really start again. Let's take advantage of this moment and take some chances, step out of our comfort zones and wallow in this sense of joy.
Or at the very least, smile at the next person you see. :~)

The Time has come for change

2011-12-12T09:32:00.000-08:00

Wow even as I wrote that I thought it sounded seriously heavy, but it's true, and not in a light or heavy way, just in a solidly spot on sort of way. What do I mean?
1. Well this blog has served its "I'm turning 50" purpose as I'm now 51, so it must change.
2. I have put on some serious weight, so my diet and exercise must change.
3. Since starting my business in real estate, I always looked at myself as primarily a commercial agent, but I am finding that I now sell as many houses as I do commercial properties and I've been doing property management for 5ish years now, so my image of myself as a one-trick pony must also change.
4. My daughter is entering her teen years this month, so my parenting must change, and my son is graduating from college this year, so I suspect my relationship with him is about to change as well.
So if I'm going to keep using this blog, which I would like to do, I think, as with my real estate business, I want to just broaden it.
Not just a one-trick blog, but allow for maybe some cooking or book recommendations or info about animal care, or real estate insights, or observations on parenting, entrepreneurship, exercise or ok, so I'm so full of it... I've kind of been doing that all along. But this morning as I write, I'm in a weirdly contemplative mood, and maybe it's the new year coming, but I'm feeling imminent change.
I guess I'm here ready to embrace it and allow for the dreaded growth.
So whatever I'm feeling.... bring it. I can handle it. Small but mighty as my daughter likes to say.

There's no place like home, there's no place like home

2011-10-18T14:33:00.000-07:00

I have always disliked "The Wizard of Oz." I thought it was scary when I was a child, and as an adult and an ex-Kansan, I hate being called Dorothy or in anyway likened to the ruby-red-slippered girl.
But there's one thing for sure, as she said in the movie, "there is NO place like home."
On my return from Kansas last week, I once again renewed my love of the Pacific Northwest and all things Olympia. My home city of Kansas City (really the suburbs on the Kansas side of the city) has sprawled out of control. It is a very very large metropolitan area these days and it literally took me 20-30 minutes to get anywhere I wanted to go. I used 2 entire tanks of gas, and I was only there 6 days!
So the long and the short of it is I may not have been born here, but I now call Olympia, WA my home and I feel blessed to do so.
While in KC, I was yelled at, honked at and maligned, and this only by my immediate family!
Strangers almost ran me off the road, were angry if I didn't speed and would stop short in front of me almost causing accidents.
I just realized I sound like an old fart in this post, but maybe being an old gaseous substance is ok in this instance.

A wonderful grown up woman

2011-10-14T08:57:00.000-07:00

I went to my niece's wedding this last week. This is the same little red-headed girl who used to spend the night with me and giggle and talk until all hours. She also is the same young lady who still came to visit me even thought I moved far far away.
Ashley is now all grown up. She is in the Navy with a super secret clearance and she writes her own blog about cooking and family and love http://bakestravaganza.blogspot.com/ ... I can't tell her enough about the amazing young woman I see. I'm so happy for her and her new husband, and I look forward to great nieces and nephews as soon as they're ready to deliver them. Much love and appreciation to my sweet niece.

A Lifetime Plan

2011-08-01T16:03:00.000-07:00

I spent my whole life listening to my mom worry about her weight. I watched her diet hop; I heard about exercise programs and watched her start and stop every single plan.
I have been sooooo lucky. Up until a few years ago, I weighed around 100 pounds soaking wet. I never had to work at it; I ate whatever I wanted; I was hated by many -- understood by few. 20 years ago, I even threw away my scale and never missed it.
Well, all good things must come to an end, and as an old friend of mine used to say "the gravy train is over!"
I looked in the mirror the other day and faced my moment of truth. I am overweight.
A long time ago, I decided that when this moment came, I would NOT fad diet or exercise, instead I would approach it as a life choice time and figure out what I can live with.
So this week, I bought a new scale. Scales have come a long way in the past 20 years, and the one I got has numbers instead of a dial and it tells me in glaring red that I am 10 pounds over what I would like to weigh.
Next step was to set up an exercise program that I could live with, so my deal with me and only me is that I will work out 1 hour a day doing something active -- anything active -- until I have lost the 10 pounds. Then I would go down to either 1 hour 3 times a week or 1/2 hour 6 times a week to maintain.
After that, I began to look at my diet. For the most part, I eat very healthy foods and meals. So I had to look a bit closer and realized that I am drinking too much wine and using too much butter and always including desserts. So time to amp the food and drink down a notch and see how it goes.
If this system works, I believe I can make a life practice that will take me into old age.
I'll let you know!

1330 Fones Rd. SE, Olympia, WA | Powered by Postlets

2011-05-10T12:10:00.000-07:00

1330 Fones Rd. SE, Olympia, WA | Powered by Postlets

NOW? Really?

2011-04-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

I have spent 50 years angsting (no it's not a real word) about being short, plain, apple-shaped, boy shaped, oh any number of dumb words for not 5'11'' and blonde. Why? Probably the normal thing, our lovely culture and media have made beauty a very narrow field. I think in the past ten years, it has gotten better. I see more non-blonde, non-tall and reed-thin, images of beauty out there, but none-the-less, not enough.
So in the past tenish years (also not a word), I've come to like my five-foot tallness, my small hipped frame and my straight hair. I don't even mind most of my wrinkles. The sad thing is like many women, I have figured out NOW that I was a pretty young woman back in my twenties and a very attractive woman in my thirties. But at the time, I was filled with self-doubt and fear.
So what's up with that? Why now when it's about over? Too little too late?
So I entered the MORE beauty search. The women who have entered it are all over 35, and most of them attractive in non-stereotypical ways. Seemed like the right place to be for me to explore this feeling. BUT it is making me hugely uncomfortable. I'm kind of embarrassed that I did it and that I put myself out there.
I don't think I should be, but I am. If it were one of my friends, I'd be proud of her for doing it. But I'm not proud of me.
My mother's messages about vanity and self-involvement continue to haunt me. They are probably part of why I never saw what I looked like as a younger woman.
I still remember in college when my dad told me I was beautiful. In one sentence, he did more for my self-esteem than he'll ever know.
But the media persisted and my self-esteem suffered and obviously the feelings I'm having over entering that contest give voice to the pain it is still causing me.
Alan Alda as the character Hawk-eye Pierce on the show MASH once said something like: "Courage doesn't mean you are not afraid. Courage is going out in spite of your fears and continuing to fight."
I suppose in 50 years, I have not become more beautiful or more confident, but more courageous.

Changing it up

2011-03-15T07:30:00.000-07:00

Last year I began to realize that I was spending a lot of time doing things that had ceased to mean anything to me. I was on boards and a part of organizations that had become tedious and in some cases, for various reasons, difficult. However, I take my commitments seriously, so I vowed to give it some time, review my participation, allow myself to admit when I truly was enjoying an experience or when I was not. I thought I would be able to accomplish this over a summer, but as it turned out, it took me much longer to fight through my reservations.

I want to make it clear, all of the organizations of which I have been a part are very important. Each and every one of them has a mission and a purpose in which I believe. But it had ceased to be MY calling to be directly involved in their development.

My business, family and health began to creep forward this year. All of them demanding more and more of me. But even then, I tried to keep up with everything, it was not lightly that I moved forward with my goal.

But now almost an entire year has passed, and I have finally resigned from the positions that were no longer purposeful for me. I have decided on a new path. I am on a mission to invest my precious time and energy into things that give my life purpose, meaning and joy.

One of those is simple and obvious, the amazing people with whom my life has been blessed. I suspect the rest will find its space in time, and just the fact that I am allowing for and opening myself to joy will invite it into my life.

This morning for starters, I'm going to walk my dogs in the rain then I'm taking a Yoga class, then some wonderful work with my fabulous clients. I suspect I will feel joy in each moment. This is a marvelous new experience for me.

Blessings all in your days, may you find your bliss.

I used to be...

2011-03-14T08:37:00.000-07:00

When I was in my 20s, I knew a lot of really incredible women who were in their 40s and 50s who actually put up with my youth and immaturity without killing me. I was lucky. Yesterday in yoga class, I was doing my poses and checking my posture in front of the large mirror, when I heard an echo from those days, but it was coming from my side -- I heard myself think, "I used to be able to do a back bend. I used to be able to do the splits, I used to have a smaller tummy, arms, back, I used to..."

When I would hear these fabulous women of my youth say "I used to..." it would seem strange to me. I was sitting there looking at someone I respected, thought was great and beautiful and all they would talk about was a person from the past that I couldn't see and therefore thought irrelevant. NOW here I am being the "I used to..." person.

So there in some ungodly position in front of the mirror I decided to banish "I used to..." The past is over and gone. I am a person who knows what I want, who lives in the present, who is trying to improve myself, who is doing and being in the present.

It is hard as we grow older to stay present and to realize that we are valuable, beautiful beings in the here and now. I don't want to forget what I was and I won't, but I also don't want to go back there. I may have been thinner and more flexible, but I was not as strong, as centered, as experienced, as tolerant then as I am now.

I am grateful in the present for the life I have lived, the strong and flexible body I have been given, the beautiful people who have graced my life and shown me what it means to live a full and glorious life at any age.

Menopause meets Puberty and other scary stories...

2011-02-28T14:27:00.000-08:00

My home has never been a calm and peaceful one, but it has also never been quite the emotional roller coaster it is right now. My youngest, and up to now, sweetest little girl is 12. I, her esteemed and used-to-be patient mother, have hit the dramatic ebb and flow of teendom and menopausedom. We rock and roll to the tune of tears, fears and leers. We love each other madly and we are almost certainly the two most difficult women to live with right now. God help the two men in our lives (my partner and her brother, my son). They have taken to drinking and watching a lot of sports then running to their respective corners to hide.
Who can blame them?
Since her birth, I have known that this day would come. I just had no idea how trying it would really be. I am constantly feeling exhausted, sad, questioned, disrespected, criticized and all-around trod upon. She, in-turn, feels like she can do no right, unappreciated and deliriously grateful and happy.
It's a barrel of laughs.
Luckily I still adore/tolerate the sweet young lady and she loves me, hates me, loves me, hates me, loves me...I have lost track.
I keep telling myself the famous last words:
This too shall pass!!!

The Kitchen Dance

2011-02-21T11:37:00.001-08:00

By Lisa for Robin

We step-ball-chain
around each corner
rhythmically
exchanging positions
swishing and swaying
sashaying to
music, that no one hears
but us.

We don’t care.
The beat drives us
through the perfect motions
creating
tension and ease
necessary grooves
blend
spices, flavors with wine
into a meal
fit for only the blessed
prepared by hands
and souls
linked in the harmonious
joy of the
kitchen dance.

REALTOR® Magazine-Daily News-Real Estate Is 'as Affordable as it Gets'

2011-02-11T08:44:00.000-08:00

REALTOR® Magazine-Daily News-Real Estate Is 'as Affordable as it Gets'

Children grow up, puppies stay little

2011-02-06T08:33:00.000-08:00

This week I followed a somewhat crazy instinct and got a new puppy. My smallest child is growing up, and she doesn't like it when I want to hold her in my lap and cuddle her close. She really hates it when I want her to wear little girl clothes and walk holding her hand. I hear some day she'll let me hold her hand again...I can't wait. So crazy as it may seem, I went and got myself a lap dog puppy, a Maltese to be specific. Darby weighs maybe a pound or so right now and full grown will be about the size my children were at birth. He goes everywhere with me, and cries for me when he can see me but not get to me. He sleeps cuddled in my arms and loves me unconditionally... all this in just a week... WOW.

Heroes

2011-01-26T09:10:00.000-08:00

This week has been so eventful.
We went to Spokane to see Steve's daughter and her husband and twins. I am forever and always amazed at what that young woman deals with on a daily basis and the grace with which she manages her life.
While we were in Spokane, my dear sweet cousin Nytasha decides to up and go into labor. She gave birth to her darling little boy on Saturday night. And when a new baby is born, a new mother and father come into the world too.
We've been trying to be there as much as we can for them and the new baby, and it's not difficult. So last night, it was Nytasha's birthday, and we had a small impromptu get-together with cake and love. The baby slept through the whole party. It was good for Nytasha to get a grown-up moment. New babies are a lot of work, and sleep is at a premium.
This morning my memory ran back in time to when Steve's daughter was first on her own with the twins. We got the pleasure of having them in our home for ten days. It was such fun, and I knew it was a crazy lot of work, but until I had the live comparison of one baby to two in a short span of time, I didn't fully realize just how difficult and over the top it really was.
(Not to forget my brother and his wife with the triplets.)
Heroes. All good parents are heroes. But some of them are also warriors and deserve combat pay. Steve's daughter deals with a full-time job teaching high-need 3rd graders, a husband who is wonderful, but works far away every other month, and a debilitating physical issue, lupus. I normally wouldn't write about this, but she writes about her life in her own blog, so I think she's o.k. with me writing this.
She is my hero. I don't know how she does it and keeps her head on straight.
Today and every day, my hat is off to Her. She is truly a hero and a warrior for the good and health of her beautiful children. I am blessed to have her in my life.

OK, so NOW WHAT?

2011-01-10T17:52:00.000-08:00

I have a whole lot of friends on their way to 50. I spent my whole last year on my way to 50. Then it happened. And it was fun. Now 3 months later, you gotta ask the same question you asked when you were 21, what am I looking forward to now? Death?

Well here's the scoop. I KNOW THE ANSWER.

It's simple and real, I'm looking forward to everything. Life. It's all worthy. My 24-year-old son said to me the other day, "Yeah, I'm in pain, but it's all good because it's all a part of it."

WOW, he's right, it's all good. Every day you take another breath is a good one. The first 50 were practice. Now you live. I keep telling my children, I am officially middle aged. I'm going to live to be 100+. I don't know if that's a threat or a promise, but I mean it.

I sound like some aging metaphor, but I don't care. I have never felt so powerful, together and full of joy and pain and hope. Life rocks. I'm on board to enjoy the journey and I welcome anyone who wants to come along.

Time has run out

2010-10-21T20:32:00.000-07:00

So a year ago, I began to reflect, albeit not always seriously, on the evolution of my final year before I turned 50. I am still kind of in shock about the fact that I have been alive for 50 years. I can hardly believe it. I kept trying to figure out just who I was going to be when this magical and scary age finally dawned. So well, here I am, one week out from the big or small day. Have I had any revelations? Nope. Not really. But today I said to someone that I've been trying to figure out who I was going to be at 50, and basically, I am what I am. Popeye not ignored. Suddenly, OK, I admit it was neither sudden or quick, but I found myself realizing that THAT's the message, I am comfortable being me. I'm finally comfortable being all the things I've been, and sometimes uncomfortably, for the past 50 years. I don't need to have an epiphany. It's o.k. right here, right now to stop and just be me.

AARP

2010-08-13T08:17:00.000-07:00

OK, so this year trudges on relentlessly toward my 50th birthday.
And I remain determined to not freak out and consciously look at how this makes me feel. So in this spirit I signed up for AARP. It appears you become eligible for the Association of Retired Persons or whatever it stands for when you are 49. Now, let's get this straight, I am no where near retirement, so this must be a relic of times gone by when people died at much younger ages and money flowed more freely into retirement funds.
Anyway, AARP gives you discounts and sends you advertising and newsletters on all things for senior citizens.
I don't feel like a senior citizen. I don't think I look much like a senior citizen, but nevertheless, I am eligible for discounts and stuff. Kind of ironic because I got carded buying alcohol not long ago. And I mean this literally, like in the last year not long ago.
Anyway, I no more want to get caught up in the I have to look young thing than I want to obsess about growing older. I am determined to happily live in the now... age 49 and 10/12s.
I like being eligible for discounts though.

Roche Harbor 2010

2010-07-29T09:15:00.000-07:00

Survival of the Fittest

2010-07-29T09:06:00.000-07:00

   We got back from our Vacationorama, none the worst for wear. We had a really good time. The two smallest troopers brought colds on board, which immediately affected the oldest and the largest of the troops. The amazing thing was that the medium-sized troops, who are 9 and 11, were not infected in the slightest, and the one of us who teaches 5th grade was least affected.
   I think that this might actually be significant.
   All of these efforts to remain germ free that we have invented, like these hand wipey things, may actually be keeping us from charging up our immune systems.
   Really there are worst things than cold germs. Our two middle-sized troops spend most of their lives around other middle-sized troops. This age of person is not known for cleanliness. They touch each other and forget to wash their hands and rub their noses and do all sorts of other things that we have come to think of as disgusting. But these two little buggers were super immune to this lovely cold that knocked us all flat.
   HMMMMMM.

My Mother, an Honorable LOL if I ever knew one... she wanted this published.

2010-07-27T11:46:00.000-07:00

READERS, BELOW IS A POST WRITTEN BY MY MOTHER. I HAVE NOT CHANGED OR EDITED IT IN ANYWAY.
I was born in a boxcar without doctor in attendance in a raging blizzard. I was the fifth in a family of eight. When I was six we were fortunate enought to move to a three bedroom house just about 4 months before the eighth and last of my brothers and sisters was born. We thought we had hit the big time. I only had to sleep with one sister and in a separate bedroom from the 3 brothers who had always slept in the next bed.

We had a real basement, not a dug out where things were kept cool under the boxcar set up on a cement foundation. We did not know we had been the poorest family in the little town of 50 where we lived. When Dad got a regular job, finally, he was close to 40 and the depression was finally over.......thanks to WW II. He worked in a canning/freezing factory for the rest of his years, retiring at 65 and dying from a heart attack at 67.

I never knew whether my parents were democrats or republicans because it was not polite to discuss those things in front of others. The political leanings of people were considered private and separate from social life.

My parents were prejudiced against blacks and mexicans...............mostly because they lived in MN which had very few of them. Only some Jamaicans came in by truck at corn harvest and lived in the barracks which were by the factory where Dad ran the big engines. When I left for college I met my first blacks and people of other races, ethnicities, and religious belief. It was an education in itself but I attended college to be a teacher, having a great affinity for children and teaching. I got to know some of them and lo and behold! They were normal people with the same problems and aspirations I had!

I worked every summer, after school, and after classes when I was in college in order to pay for my education or I could not have gotten a degree. There were no college loans, grants or other opportunities at that time. I value that education. It has supported me for about 50 years and given me a background of understanding I might never have gained in a town of 50. By the way, the town is still there and since we lived a block from a lake, it is now a recreation spot with cabins, boat decks and rental places around the edge. There is also a hydroelectric plant on the opposite end of the lake that provides electricity these days. The boxcar was used by a retiree for several years and then taken away and the place where I was born is a vacant, grassy lot.

Anyway, I also resent paying a living for people such as the lady who sat in a house with 2 TV's, a Satin housecoat, 2 house pets, varnished wood floors, and was talking to the TV camera about how she had worked a year out of her welfare years and didn't care for working so went back on welfare and was angry she had been in a flood and they refinished her floors afterwards.......but they were the wrong shade of brown so she wants us to pay for her to have them redone.....She deserves it! She said. Why she deserves that as an able bodied person is beyond my understanding.

I resent having to have a translator for many of the things that are done for me..........at a very good price! Most of the things are well done but if they aren't, I have to get the translator back to describe the short comings! Is that right? Perhaps at 73, it is time for me to finally learn Spanish or Mexican or whatever so I know what they are saying as they grin at the stupid, rich Gringo. Is it too much to ask that people who come into become workers, Americans, or whatever should learn enough English/American to communicate with me? It should be slightly easier for a young person to learn my language than the revers, but that is just my opinion!

I approve of the message below and I am Virginia, running for no office, trying to improve myself as always, and happy to be an evengelical American.............hoping it will remain a free place to say that.

The Sound and the Fury - a blatant Rant

2010-07-14T22:32:00.000-07:00

I am fed up with noise.
But I must define for everyone what I mean by that. I am sick of sounds emanating from televisions that offend me. I am sick of Comedy Central, Tosh 2.0 or whatever it is called. I don't want to ever watch Zoey 101 or Hannah Montana or Spongebob again. But more than any of those things, I HATE cage fighting.
Who invented this sport? Can we even call it a sport. You get in a cage and pummel, kick and bite and pull hair and anything else you want to do to another human being until they can no longer fight back. All of this is done in a chain link fenced in box. It's bloody, violent and loud. The announcers never say anything in a normal voice, they are always yelling and the crowds scream horrible cheers to egg on the near death experience by these obviously brilliantly intelligent and trained fighters.
I HATE IT, did I mention that I HATE IT?
I have always assumed that the person who wants quiet should be the one that prevails, not the noisemakers, but my family, and I use the word loosely, is convinced that it is their right to invade my ears, my brain, and my soul with this noise.
I am fed up with noise.

Officially Summer

2010-07-07T07:04:00.000-07:00

When most people in the Pacific NW say it's officially summer they are referring to the fabulous sunshine that doesn't bother to show until after the Fourth of July... I am implying that it is the time of year in which people stop wanting to sit in front of computers, they buy houses, they sit on their patios, jump into their boats and will run through any manner of running water to cool down.
I am an official hater of all things air-conditioned, well except cars, cars can be torture chambers if not ac'd. So I spend as much of this glorious time of year outside. And luckily for me, that's easy doing what I do.
So this summer, we are engaging in a ritual that is growing each and every summer... the "family vacation." The first summer we truly did it was really last summer. We grabbed Steve's grandson and my daughter, and we took off for the San Juan Islands on his boat. It was a really good time. The kids fished, kayaked, designed hats for all of us, and of course, the traditional all-time family favorite --- bickering.
I was semi-patient with this, Steve was angelic.
This summer, we are stepping up the game. One boat, three grandchildren, three daughters, at least one husband, maybe two, one mother and one father/grandfather.
The whole sleeping thing will be interesting, two cribs, one blow up mattress and 6 bunks... 1.5 bathrooms... is a whole other issue!!!
I've started to figure this out, it's all about logistics.
1 yacht, 2 refrigerators, 1 freezer, one drawer per person, one towel per person, two storage boxes for toys, 10 hats to be decorated, 8 chairs for sitting, 2 high chairs for toddlers, 10 life vests, 2 kayaks, 1 dingy, 1 outboard, 2 generators... I can do THIS!!!! 7 dinners, 7 lunches, 7 breakfasts, time 10 people oh my GOD 210 meals, 7 bags of chips, I don't even want to think about the amount of water, beer, wine and juice... 5 fishing poles, and now I feel that I must add and a partridge in a pear tree....
Believe it or not, we're looking forward to this!!!
More later on Family Cruiseorama 2010.

Happy RIGHT HERE

2010-06-19T13:05:00.000-07:00

Today we have beautiful company. Steve's two lovely daughters and their gorgeous children are visiting. I know, over the top adjectives... but seriously these people are beautiful. They are also active and smart and vocal, and it's a real houseful. I am a fan of a houseful, and this is tons of fun, but it doesn't make me feel the need to have more kids or add more noise or activity to my life. This is the best of both worlds, we get to see the kids, hold the babies and the responsibility goes home when they do.
It's true what they say, grandchildren rock.
I am so lucky to get to share in this family time with these awesome kids.
How often can you truly look around and just be OK?
It was worth noting.

Dude looks like a lady

2010-06-11T07:21:00.001-07:00

My little sister, and I use the term loosely (she towers over me), is obsessed with the idea that as we age, we begin to look more like men.

She calls it "Lady looks like a dude." She has always, always, ALWAYS been the funny one.

I love her so much, and as we have grown older, in spite of our childhood competition and various spats, she remains now and always the person with whom I will grow old. We call it "Blue hair and shoes."

She used to work at a shoe store and she would delight in these little old ladies with blue rinsed hair shopping together. So we made a pact that that would be us. Men shmen, there would always be each other, blue hair and shoes.

Anyway, yesterday I sent her this email of all these sayings about how your friends grow more special and women need each other as we grow older. All true of course. But what does my sweet little sister write back? "The one in the middle toward the bottom LOOKS LIKE A DUDE."

I'm sitting a thousand miles away from her right now literally laughing out loud.

I love you Renee.

AND, I absolutely refuse to look like a dude. With all the science and hormones and advances, I will find a way to continue to be a Little Old LADY.

Got Property? Got Friends? Please Read...

2010-06-10T15:32:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, I continue to have people looking for property that does not match the current listed inventory. So I'm writing here and in some other nontraditional places to put it out there, that I have clients in the market for retail, office, and light industrial properties (buildings and land). If you have any or know of anyone in Thurston County who may want to sell, but hasn't listed, please have them give me a call at 360-480-7917 or drop me an email at lisacosmillo@gmail.com and let me know. I would be happy to tell them a fair opinion of value, and if I can sell their property, I'll do that too.

Eat, Pray, Worry????

2010-06-06T18:45:00.000-07:00

I'm reading Elizabeth Gilbert's book, "Eat, Pray, Love," one word. WOW.

I don't usually go down the path of nonfiction outside newspapers and magazines, so this is outside my comfort zone a bit. But this book is such a nice read.

Not only am I enjoying the writing, but I'm finding that it makes me feel like I'm not alone. This woman's experience is easy to connect with. I want to go to Italy and eat my way through 4 months. I'm not a good traveller either, but I still love it. I love yoga and I too suffer from depression.

Ironically, she has given me so much to contemplate and some real tools that can help with my constant search for peace and grace. She struggles with silence and meditation as much as I do, and she kicks its butt... so maybe I can.

At one point in her book, Ms. Gilbert personified depression and loneliness. It was such a good description of how they kind of take you over, that I put the book down and thought about how anxiety works its way into my life. It's like those cartoon monsters huge and dark on the wall of your bedroom at night... but if you look really close there's a little tiny two-inch monster standing in front of the light making the shadow.

So I decided to picture this little fella in my mind and invite him to jump up on the bed and talk to me. When I finally got ahold of him, he was wily, strong and muscular. So, I grabbed him, held him down, hugged him and cuddled him close. I calmed him with my voice and told him, he didn't have to go around scaring me anymore. He was just a little guy, and we could try to be friends.

He's still creeping around and jumping out at me, but now when I see a glimpse of him, or he wakes me up in the middle of the night, I try to calm him down and tell him to settle in, I'm not going anywhere, and everything is going to be alright. Afterall, I'm almost 50, and I haven't starved yet, my kids are doing ok, and I have a roof over my head.

And he's just a little guy --Really.

How much do we tell our kids?

2010-05-28T16:09:00.001-07:00

This question has so many different levels that I don't quite know where to begin. The first is the obvious, when and how do you talk about sex... for me that's an easy one. Sex is a part of life and kids are aware of it before they can talk, they just can't tell you.

Grown-ups are the ones with the hang ups. We think it's something to regulate, govern and prohibit. That, to me, is the ultimate crack up. For generations, for EVER, young people have found each other, touched each other and life has happened, over and over and over again. We're the ones with the fears that keep us from talking, and by not talking, we set up our children to get into trouble.

So enough said about sex talk.

But what about telling our kids about ourselves? the mistakes we have made or make? When do we tell them? Do we A. load them down with all of our baggage or B. wait until an issue comes up that demands it?

In this case, I vote for B. I don't think they really hear half our stories unless they pertain directly to their experiences anyway, so I wait until it's relevant.

Last night, it was relevant. My baby boy (who is 23) was in pain. Pain that was self inflicted. He knew it, I knew it, and I wanted to take it all away from him, and I couldn't. So I tossed and turned all night thinking about him and what I could have, should have said. When I did sleep I dreamed that I couldn't find him and tell him all that I needed to say. When morning finally came, I was relieved to find him sleeping in his bed, and I bared my soul to him about some mistakes and choices and things I've learned from them. I hope it helped. He seems so beat up today. I love him so very much. I hope I did the right thing.

How Am I?

2010-05-22T08:35:00.000-07:00

After I wrote about my meds issue, I never followed up, and yesterday someone called to see how I was doing, so I thought I'd better follow up.

I've been back on them for a couple of weeks now, and I'm fine. It is amazing to me how the tiny little quarter of a pill dose I take daily can just even out my world.

I don't get irritated by the small stuff. I smile easily. I am more able to roll with the punches.

But it does not alleviate stress.

I think if I could invent an anti-stress pill I would.

I think it would look like a huge bank account and endless love and good business and great health and lots of exercise.

I guess what I'm trying to say is LIFE IS STRESSFUL because it is never perfect.

OK, so I get it. I need to learn to cope with the stress instead of trying to eliminate it.

Yoga helps, if you can figure out how to find the time to go to the classes.

YIKES. I sound like a stress case.

Reality is I'm studying for my Broker's exam in 9 days, working, helping my friend with her work, so she can go take the same exam and trying to do all my normal stuff too.

I'm over committed in my volunteer life, and my house is a mess.

I think it's time to re-evaluate some priorities... BUT FIRST - I have to pass that EXAM.

More wine please... I think that's an anti-stress pill of choice right now.

WARNING - Sensitive Subject, Stop here if need be

2010-05-11T07:17:00.000-07:00

For the past two years, I have joined millions of people in the taking of antidepressants. I have struggled with this over and over again. At the time I started taking them, I had just gone through a crazy six months, had lost hair and could not sleep because I was overcome with anxiety. It seemed like the right thing to do.

Since that time, I have been, well -- blissfully happy. It's weird. I have never been this happy. So much so that I keep thinking there's something wrong with me.

Should I need drugs to be happy? Isn't this fake? Maybe I'm supposed to be irritable, anxious and tearful.

So periodically, about every 6 or 7 months, I try to go off the drugs. My doctor said I may not need them forever right?

About 2 months ago, I decided (on my own) that it was time to go off of them for good. I didn't need them and I was dependent and it was time.

I did it right too, I slowly, very very slowly reduced my dosage. Well at first it was slow. For a month, I took only 6 doses a week, then I went down to 5, then 4 then I decided (again on my own) that I was actually for all intents and purposes off of them, so I stopped. And for a few days, I thought yeehaw, I've kicked this baby!!!

Then gradually, I started snapping at the kids. I started getting irritated at my coworkers, I began noticing that I was having to force myself to smile. I had to remind myself that I hadn't smiled for a while, and make myself smile. It was interesting. And I thought it was normal. I thought cool. I'm normal again. No more of this drug induced euphoria. I'm real.

Then about two weeks after I was completely drug free, I woke up one morning and didn't want to do anything. Nothing. So my partner recommended, I go work out that day. I snapped at him for the suggestion, after all, it was none of his business. Then I got up and went to a Body Pump class. The entire class, I was miserable. I finally just left. I was done. I wanted my drugs. I wanted my drug induced happiness. So I went to the store to refill my prescription only to find out I couldn't the doctor had to call it in. It was at that moment, I completely lost it.

I went home and crawled under the covers and cried. I called my Steve and said, I can't get out of bed. He (sweet man that he is) came to me, crawled under the covers with me and told me it was o.k. to go get my drugs.

The doctor helped me immediately. I've been back on them for four days now, and guess what? I'm not euphoric. I'm still me. But I am once again happy. I can smile. I'm not as irritable (pms so a little hunh?).

I need to remember this. So I'm writing it down. My brain has an issue with me being in balance. I'm off kilter somehow. It is not my imagination, and there is nothing 'wrong' per se. I'm just like millions of people who suffer from depression. I didn't do anything bad, I don't 'deserve' this anymore than someone who has a physical illness deserves it. It just is part of my makeup, and thank God for science and treatments that make it so I can live a normal and happy life.

My children and everyone around me are thankful too.

Follow your nose day

2010-05-08T08:06:00.001-07:00

My favorite kinds of days now I call a follow your nose day.

It's a day when you don't have to work, but you have a lot to do, but you don't want to make a list or a plan. So I just go with the next right thing.

It is a blissful way to have a weekend day. I usually end up getting a lot done, and I never feel like I'm working, just floating from one thing I want to do to the next thing I want to do.

The only rule is that I don't do anything I don't want to do.

So my nose said to write this down, now I think I'll go find food, then wherever my nose leads me next.

Talking to myself and feeling old...

2010-05-07T09:37:00.000-07:00

I love my Bluetooth headset for my cellphone (a new millenium necessity right?) and because I have hair that hangs over my ears, no one can even see it. This is nice, and sometimes humorous.

This morning I was having a long talk with my sister on the phone and since I had to go into Safeway and buy a couple of things, I just decided to take her in with me. So I'm chatting along picking up this and that (that including a bottle of wine that I have trouble finding, so I grab it when I see it) when I notice a guy giving me the funniest look.

Suddenly I realize that I must look like one of those people who have loud and boisterous conversations with their other selves. So I stopped talking to my sister and focused on this guy and told him, "I'm on the phone..." He smiled and said he wouldn't interrupt me no matter who I was talking to.

I about lost it... I had to hang up the phone and laugh -- the gentleman came back and informed me that he was a pastor and talked with many people with similar issues. And besides he said, you have a bottle of wine, and it's before lunch, heck it's before breakfast. By this time I am busting a gut and trying to balance all my stuff, he and I agreed we had made each other's days.

I find the world is full of these joyous and small connections if you are open to them.

I'm not suggesting you go around talking to everyone or even yourself because they're liable to put you away for that, but if you are awake and aware of your surroundings, there are lovely people and moments every five feet or so.

Good morning Friday!!!

The art and science of child rearing

2010-05-01T08:50:00.000-07:00

I've been known to be naive on some topics. I actually thought child rearing ended when they turned 18 and went off to college. When my dear son Nick turned 21 and was still living with me and going to school, I realized that was a myth. Sort of.
Nick is 23 now, and he's a man. But I still feel responsible for taking care of him. He still needs my help now and then.
Anyway, my two beautiful children 23 and 11, yes 12 years apart are currently engaging in a traditional sibling practice. They tattle on one another.
Now, I get that siblings do this. I have a sister 2 years my junior. BUT I also have a brother 10 years my junior. My sister and I sibling rivaried 'til we dropped, but my brother and I -- NADA. I would never have thought to compete with Tony for anything or to tell on him. It would have been ludicrous. Maybe this is because I was out of my parents' home when I was 18...probably.
So here I am in a different place in time, and my mind is boggled.
Recently my son broke a precious bowl of mine. This bowl had been moved several times and carefully treasured for years and years. He left it on the counter in its broken state, so I would know it had happened. Afterall, he's 23 and a good kid.
But when I returned home that night, his little sister, my sweet 11-year-old daughter, Claire, leapt to tell me that Nick had broken the bowl. She actually seemed to delight in telling me, and when I asked her why she tattled, she explained that Nick would not have told me... which was kind of more than a little amusing because he so obviously left it out for me to find.
OK, so this was not all that strange coming from an 11-year-old girl. But this is where it gets kinda twisted. Two days or so later, I get a call at work from my darling boy. He wants to inform me that No. 1, he's doing dishes, (which is very cool) but No. 2, his sister has 9 -- count 'em -- 9 dishes in her room and 7 plastic drink bottles in various places throughout the house.
At this point, I am stifling my laughter and trying to explain to the young man that 11-year-olds are slobs. REMEMBER????
Nick goes on to tell me that he has piled these things on his sister's bed and is of the opinion that I need to come down on her in a strong manner, so she learns her lesson and doesn't turn out --- like him.
I am so delighted that they are acting like siblings. When I had them 12 years apart, I feared they would never really know one another and never have the issues that siblings have and that I now look back on fondly from my own childhood. So for me this is an amazing and delightful part of life.
I hope they grow to treasure one another and understand that this time is brief and fleeting and all that gushy mom stuff, but more than anything what great free entertainment!

Balance

2010-04-26T15:47:00.001-07:00

I find every day is a balancing act. Not the kind where you are on a tightwire, but the kind where you are trying to balance ten bowling pins on your hand without dropping them. Some might call it a juggling act. I prefer to think of myself as someone who balances. Call it what you will, for some time now my goal in life has been to be healthy, in every possible way. And that means balancing the needs of my clients, my children, my partner, my pets, my friends, my self, and definitely not in that order!!!
Most days, I do a reasonable job of pulling it off, but some days I want to toss the friggin' pins in the air and walk away.
Today has been one of those days.
It doesn't happen often. For the most part, I'm just grateful for my life and the gifts inherent within it. But today, it's grey out, I'm being challenged by technology, I have too much to do and I'm tired.
WHINE WHINE WHINE.
Any thoughts? Because I'm coming up empty.

LOL says, Life is Short

2010-04-21T21:05:00.000-07:00

Priorities, necessities, needs, wants...
I was talking with a friend this week and jokingly told him, all I need in life is my dog, adrenaline and Prilosec.
I kind of meant it.
My dog is my sweetness, centering and peaceful. Petting him erases stress. Murphy rules.
Adrenaline keeps my blood moving. I feel alive.
Prilosec calms my acid reflux from the stress adrenaline causes.
OK, so yes, I joke, I love my kids, my people, my partner.
I am an unbearably happy woman.
And today a young man died. He was 59, and his time was up. Too soon. I am so lucky. My life is amazing, and I'm so glad that I am where I am in this time and place with the people I love.

Public Enemy Number -- ME!!!

2010-04-14T17:11:00.000-07:00

It has been a long time since I was in grad school fighting the good fight in a newspaper column. Back then I got threats and hate mail, those were the days.
And yet, it appears I still have a way about me -EVIDENTLY. I found out recently that one man has named me as one of the top most evil folks in Thurston County.
I am strangely flattered!
Evidently, little old me has done something to irritate a certain ex-Tumwater Councilman. I even think I may know what I did, but come on seriously???
I think what I did was taking a job with the Economic Development Council , where I helped find ways to make more jobs in the county.
Or maybe it's because now I sell commercial real estate???
The gentleman in question is part of a small cadre of locals who are anti-growth. We call them No growthers. They are very outspoken environmentalists. I have NO problem with environmentalism in all of its forms. I am a strong supporter of all things green, REALLY.
My job is to help businesses find places to do business. That doesn't mean I am a proponent of knocking down trees or using up resources.
I'm truly just trying to feed my kids.
I am flattered by this guy thinking I am worthy of his red highlighter, but I honestly think it says more about him than me.
I am hoping I don't get any hate mail or threats this time around and besides, I think red highlighter is cool. Red is my favorite color!!!

Being Sick Still Sucks

2010-04-14T08:33:00.000-07:00

I'm sick.

I'm not dying, well we're all dying, so I guess that's not quite true.

But I am sick.

I hate being sick.

They passed that physician assisted suicide bill in Washington State this year.

I'm all in favor.

Just so long as I get to make the rules, and I am the one that basically takes care of business if and when I want to.

It's not that I don't trust my kids or the doctor, but I don't want anyone else to take this on as their burden and feel badly about it. As I am writing this, I am realizing I may not be as ok with it as I say. Questions are filling my mind, like "If I kill myself, will I go to Hell?"

Just when I least expect it -- when I think I'm clear on a subject, the God thing pokes its head out of hiding and brings moral issues to light.

I know thou shalt not kill, but what about mercy?

What about when your life has ceased to be of value?

God says all life has value.

REALLY?

What about the life of a serial killer? What about a person who is brain dead?

There has to be a place at which we draw the line.

I've always been against the death penalty because I don't believe anyone has the right to end another person's life, including the state. But what about mercy???

Obviously I don't have an answer, and I am hungry for one.

Being sick sucks, and I wouldn't want to be REALLY sick and a burden on others and in constant pain. I would want to move on, but does my will matter?

Are we truly meant to live out our days as handed?

Or is God just as merciful as I would think, and did he maybe give us a way to opt out?

I think we are all allowed to figure some of this stuff out for ourselves.

Black and White is easy and straightforward, but Grey sometimes is the right color.

Why this LOL is not getting plastic surgery

2010-04-07T08:37:00.000-07:00

I was at Joanne Fabrics shopping when I met the most adorable 18-month-old mini woman. She had on the most proper wool coat and a blond bob. Her crystal blue eyes stared up at me as she walked determinedly with her stout little legs in front of her mother through the crowded store.
I couldn't resist crouching down and chatting with her (really her mom). She was enchanting. After I turned and walked away, she followed me. Her mom didn't notice, so I said "honey, go back to momma." Momma barreled around the corner about then, grabbed her sweet child and said "Does that lady remind you of grandma?"
She was talking about ME.
Grandma. I will delight in being a grandma whenever it happens. I am ready willing and able to be a grandma. My life partner, Steve, has three grandchildren, who I delight in spoiling and enjoy playing with. Being a grandparent will rule.
But this gal knew I was old enough.
Wow.
My secret undercover age is gone. Because my entire life, very few people have ever guessed my age correctly. I was carded up until I was almost 40. Mostly this is because I'm small. 5-foot to be exact. It makes you look young.
In our culture looking young is a big deal. So when I was in my 20s and watching other women age, I saw some of them get plastic surgery, face lifts, eye lifts, boob lifts... and I decided then and there that I would never do this. These women were beautiful and their age did nothing to change that. In my 20-something opinion, they didn't need to change a thing.
Later I had a daughter (ok, much later... I was 38 when she was born.) I repledged myself to abstain from plastic surgery at this time. I didn't want Claire to ever think there was anything wrong with aging.
When Claire was 8, we were both looking in the mirror, and I said something to the effect of when she was older she would have earned all the lovely lines and wrinkles around her eyes and mouth that showed years of smiles and life. My dear sweet daughter screwed up her face and peered at me in the mirror. She finally said, "Gosh I hope not."
I still laugh out loud at that memory. So much for my quest to show her one can age with dignity and beauty. At almost 50, it has grown increasingly difficult to abstain from a little lift here, some collagen there, or maybe that poisonous stuff that they inject into your forehead.
But somewhere lurking under the surface of my slightly saggy body, my slightly wrinkly face is the 20-something, and my ideals remain intact and my body remains au naturel. And someday when I die, it'll all be worm food anyway, at least my worms will be able to eat every bite!!!

Going Live

2010-04-06T14:47:00.000-07:00

Today I posted the link to this blog on Facebook.
Weird how I am suddenly VERY self conscious and going back trying to decide what to edit or change. I took down the bathing suit pic.
What a goofy thing to do. The whole idea was to make this about not caring what people think anymore... so hmmm another life lesson. You are never too old to feel self conscious, to question yourself and your judgment.

Note to self: First instincts rule. Keep listening.

LOL says: He who has not sinned, cast the first stone...

2010-04-06T13:15:00.000-07:00

I was a nut. Ok some might argue with the past tense in that sentence. When I was a kid, I was VERY religious, and I memorized Bible verses until I was blue in the face. My father, who is a crazy Sicilian reformed Catholic, accepted Christ and became a Christian when I was 12 years old.
Like most teens, I thought I knew everything, was dying to be right, fought authority and basically anything else I could to make my parents lives miserable.
My father was all about the rules of Christianity... with a Catholic devotion to dogma and a spare the rod and spoil the child philosophy.
So it didn't take long before his new found Christianity gave him the knowledge to pass judgment on sinners of all kinds.
But as his child, the only sins I could see were his, and with singleminded fury, I would fight him tooth and nail, screaming "HE WHO HAS NOT SINNED, CAST THE FIRST STONE..." my attempt at a Bible quote along with "JUDGE NOT LEST YE BE JUDGED..." Nothing better than a know-it-all kid with endless courage, a sense of self righteousness and a BIG mouth.
Needless to say, my less than perfect and less than patient Sicilian father would regularly knock me on the floor after one of my self righteous rants.
As a woman of almost 50, I know he could have been more patient, but man what a pain in the ass kid. I have one now who is the opposite of religious... to the point he wears a "God Free" sweatshirt. And as the ironies of life would have it, I have come back to my spiritual roots.
So having grown up in a different time and under different circumstances than my father, I am practicing what I preached -- loving this kid with all my might, trying to be an example of God's love in his life. Judging not lest I be judged because God knows --- I have sinned.

Relationships change, flow, they do not end

2010-04-02T09:09:00.001-07:00

I have been married and divorced twice.
Not a great record in most people's books, but to me, it means a life fully lived.
I have never settled for being ignored, treated badly, cheated on or lied to.
I have always known somewhere inside me that I deserved a good relationship. But I have not always known what that meant.
I've made a jillion mistakes.
I've loved deeply, fully and frequently.
Recently a strange confluence of events has come into my life, every person from my past with whom I have unresolved issues has shown up within 90 minutes of my home.
Now maybe this wouldn't be so odd if I hadn't grown up in Kansas, more than 1,000 miles from where I live in Olympia, WA.
And these three people just happened to move to Seattle or Portland.
And we found each other.
And resolutions occurred.
One of these folks, my lovely mentor from 20 or so years back asked me, why do you want to reconnect with me???
I answered her truthfully...
I never left you. I believe relationships, once created, exist. They change, they flow, they alter and live. But they do not end. Even when the other person dies, the entity that is the relationship still exists.
A relationship between people is a living, breathing reality.
It is a beautiful thing.
My ex husbands... probably don't agree.
Nor do most people whose relationship has bent in a way they did not choose.
But even those feelings and relationships are still out there floating and living.
There are a few more people out there with whom I have unresolved issues... we'll see what the future holds.

Not sure what this year means

2010-04-02T09:03:00.001-07:00

This year, October 29 to be exact, I turn 50. It truly seems like yesterday I was 20. I know everyone says that... ok so it must mean something then.
LIFE really IS short.
One day you're sneaking around behind your parents back trying to have some fun and the next you're trying to pay bills, trying to catch your own kids having fun, married or divorced and smack in it. A grown up.
This year I actually feel like one.
Yikes. I can't believe I had to get this old to feel like an adult.
So I chose this photo of myself in a bathing suit being randomly hot at 50 on a beach in Hawaii. (Which I later removed...) Why? because even though I know I sound and feel like a little old lady, I think this age is fabulous. I don't feel particularly old, but I can't get into some of the yoga poses I used to and running hurts me now, so is it time to work out more? or less?
LOL says more.
I love that LOL means laughing out loud AND little old lady.
I'm doing both right now as often as possible.
I started this blog because Paul said to, and I'm going to start putting my thoughts into it. I doubt anyone will really read it, I'm not even sure how people find blogs really, unless of course they're your friends.
But nevertheless. Tallyho, for me.