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Thursday, December 25, 2008

Emmanuel

This may be one of the strangest Christmases I have spent, in terms of breaking the traditional, expected mold of activity. Of course, after saying that I realize that my Christmases have become less traditional and more interrupted as the past few years have gone by. Some of this was by choice, but most of it from circumstance.

This Christmas Eve, on the way back from the hospital, I stopped by the church I attended when I lived in Charlotte, NC to catch the Candlelight service. It was a place where I had found a loving community, and even if my friends weren't there this night, I needed to capture part of that familiarity. I had to laugh when the pastor talked about people going to church on Christmas Eve to capture that “Christmas-y feeling,” since that was exactly why I was there. It was perhaps the only part of my Christmas that would be comfortably and predictably traditional. The swarm of shopping, tree-trimming, cookie-baking, and caroling has gone on with almost no notice from me, other than the occasional wistful glance.

The pastor went on to talk about how some people would already be thinking about getting to the "real" part of Christmas—opening presents and eating the holiday meal. For my family, I knew these would be the parts of Christmas that would be abbreviated at best, perhaps even bittersweet. This year I was 400 miles away from both home and my husband, and my sister and nephew would be stuck at the hospital rather than be able to spend the day with me, her daughter, and our parents (also in from out of state). While I love to give presents to my loved ones, we've tried to scale back on the excess in recent years. But this year, even the thought of splurging on gifts was not an option. And it turned out that I had little to no time to plan or even shop for holiday fixin's, so I dispatched my parents at the last minute to pick up a few things before the grocery stores closed on Christmas Eve.

The pastor’s final message for us on Christmas Eve was about Emmanuel—“God with us,” a baby’s birth bringing hope to mankind. Never before has my Christmas been so centered around a baby’s birth as this year, making the message especially poignant. Just over a week prior I had the privilege of witnessing the birth of my nephew, cutting his umbilical cord, and watching him take his first peek at his mother. After my sister was released, there were still daily trips from her home in SC to the hospital in uptown Charlotte since the little one was scheduled for heart surgery a week before Christmas. It still amazes me the miracles doctors can perform, especially on the tiny, delicate frame of a newborn child. He is recovering well, and on Christmas Eve moved to a transition unit where his mother stays with him 24 hours a day. They will be there for another week or so.

The innocence of that child is a wonder to behold.
He reacts to the world, crying only from hunger, pain, or discomfort, not encumbered by the false expectations and fears of the adults around him. He knows and is calmed by his mother’s voice, and watches her with eyes transfixed. He is Emmanuel, as we each are, holding inside the promise of the Christ child. He evokes in us the highest emotion—that of a pure and all-encompassing Love. What a gift indeed if we too, could become like the little children we used to be--trusting, curious, loving, imaginative, and free. If we could only approach each other without suspicion and without guile; if we could only love each other without reservation. When we all look at the world through the lens of that Love, then we will truly find God with us.


Love has come--a light in the darkness! Love explodes in the Bethlehem skies.
See, all heaven has come to proclaim it. Hear how their song of joy arises:

Love! Love! Born unto you, a Savior! Love! Love! Glory to God on high!

Love is born! Come share in the wonder. Love is God now asleep in the hay.
See the glow in the eyes of His mother. What is the name her heart is saying?

Love! Love! Love is the name she whispers. Love! Love! Jesus, Immanuel.


Love has come--He never will leave us! Love is life everlasting and free.
Love is Jesus within and among us. Love is the peace our hearts are seeking.

Love! Love! Love is the gift of Christmas. Love! Love! Praise to You, God on high!

Thursday, December 18, 2008

I have a new nephew!

And he now has his own blog!!

Preston Dean's Diary


Wednesday, December 10, 2008

This is where I am

I'm out of state, to help my sister, who, within the week, will have a newborn son. With my emotional, financial, and physical energy reserves much lower than I would like, I'm certainly not helping as much as I feel I should. I think about that, then I decide not to feel guilty. This is where I am. Plus, the main reason for me to be here is to be with her in the hospital during the birth, and I absolutely know that I will accomplish that. And, I'm having fun hanging out with my teenage niece and helping her with homework--hey, something I'm good at!

I struggle with what to write here at times, because the depression and the heavy handful of life issues I'm dealing with overshadow so much. No one else wants to hear about this again, I think. But you know what? This is where I'm at, daggone* it. And, this is my dadblum* blog. (*Substitute profane language.) I need to talk about this, for myself. So those that seem to be avoiding me (could be my own paranoia) because it's all I have to talk about can just get over* themselves.

But there always seems to be the right people there at the right time. Have you noticed that? None of us can be everything to everyone, so we can only do what we can when we can. (In other words, I need to remember that those people are dealing with their own crap* too.) On this trip, I've been able to catch up with a few close friends, and update them with where I'm at. My friend/manager from my last job in NC, now the owner of the same store, took me out to the Macaroni Grill last week and I was able to discuss all of this with him in length. Another friend from my old church, a very wise and compassionate lady, was able to empathize from her own experience. In both cases I felt buoyed up by their love and understanding. It's like having two more lifelines, rather than putting the stress on just a few. I love all of my lifelines--your compassion is phenomenal.

I feel like I'm starting to open myself up, too. Open up my heart so people can really know me. I've become adept at hiding my cards until I'm sure there's a good chance that someone will reciprocate. Exploring my personality issues, and also being 'out there' with my opinions on things, even when it's controversial, is helping me to open my heart. After all, life is too short to hold back. My 'natural' reserve may simply be a defense mechanism I picked up early in life. While I may have needed it then for my own survival, I need to shed it now in order for my authentic self to survive. I have a heart so full of love and passion that it's blinding. If I continue to hold that in, I will smother the fire.

Recently, I followed a sentimental urge to email a very old friend. We're still peripherally in touch but don't keep in close contact these days. I laid it all out on the line, and was quite on edge waiting for a reply. But it was out there; I did what I had to do. Once I let go of it, out of the blue I got a reply. And it will be a letter I will treasure forever. Following my sentimental urge helped speed healing in two hearts. Meanwhile, I found out that there's a good likelihood that another person in my past is lurking on my blog . They certainly have access to as they are now friends with someone very close to me on one of those social networking sites. After learning about this, months after the fact, I stressed over what to 'do' for about a week, and finally I let go and did the only thing I can do given the situation. I opened myself up and made my page public so they can lurk all they want. After all, I have never wanted to erase their memory, and this may be the only way to invite them back into my life.

When all else fails, and there's no one around, there's nothing better than music to soothe the soul. I love that wherever I go, where I have online access I can play my playlist.com music selections. (I also stole hubby's iPod for this trip too, which is great where there's no free WiFi in the area to suckle off of.) An hour of Mason, an hour of U2, followed by a mishmash of my other favorite musicians. I can zone out, relax, even nap and still wake up to the wildly sweet sedative medley of my heart.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Strange and Lovely

Happy Thanksgiving! Today I was a guest blogger for my friend Emily. She's a local singer/songwriter and her musings and angst are beautifully expressed both in her songs and on her blog, huh? what? Check it out, along with the other blog guests this week. This is my post.

-------------------------------------------------------------------
As I write this, I am fighting the flu’s contributions of a headache, sore throat, and achiness. Yet I am thankful for my health. In many ways I am much healthier today than a year ago—the heartburn is not as frequent, my cholesterol is down, the migraines are pretty much gone, and even the asthma has improved. Most of this is due to a few radical lifestyle changes—1) becoming a vegetarian, and 2) quitting my corporate job. Neither of these I regret, even though I still say that Italian subs are my favorite food.

The health issue I’m focusing on right now encompasses all parts of my being—body, mind, soul, and spirit. This summer I have been alternately fighting and surrendering to depression. I can’t decide at times if this is the worst depression I’ve been through. I don’t think it is—I think I’m just taking more time with it this time around. And, I’m actually getting help. It’s an interesting process—digging down to the depths of my soul; peeling back layer by layer of my psyche. It’s a painful and sometimes a painfully slow process.

It is a strange thing to realize that the observation my sister made several years ago—when I thought she was making up issues for me—might actually be true. A few pieces of the puzzle fall together, leading me to more questions about myself—why I act the way I do, why I have this aching need for approval and praise. I am learning that the root of this goes back much deeper than I would have guessed. I know that I won’t be truly happy until I’m able to validate myself rather than looking to others for that validation. I have a giant heart and have long known that Love is the essential core of my being. I need now to make a little room in there for myself.

So, this Thanksgiving, I’m giving thanks for this strange and lovely ride called Life. I’m giving thanks for the struggles that point out things we’re ignoring. I’m giving thanks for the opportunities that open up when we take that next step forward in faith. Most of all, I’m giving thanks for all the people who have been a part of my journey. I have such a rich community and I am constantly awed by the connections discovered and the kindnesses I encounter. I don’t believe anyone is in our lives coincidentally. We each have something to learn from each other. So, today, dear reader, I’m giving thanks for you.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Hairball remedy

My cat Maggie has this affectation where she holds up her paw while she looks around. It stems from us trying to get her to take her hairball remedy--you know--the brown goo in a tube. She was the only of our three cats who didn't seem to like it, so I'd put a dab on her paw which would force her to lick it off. After a few times, though, she'd hop away with her paw held up close to her furry chest as if trying to keep it from me. Now she does that all the time, but especially when she's nervous or not sure of what's going on, it seems.

Looking at her today, I realize I do the same thing, on an emotional level. Faced with a difficult situation that I'd rather avoid, I feel cornered, and in my own way I'm Maggie with her paw held close, away from danger. I'm not sure how to change that, how to face it and 'take my medicine', but I suppose being aware is the first step. Then I can work on my reaction, and ultimately, on my fears.

The universe is still telling me to be gentle on myself. Sometimes, though, the message is jumbled up and overpowered by the other side of things; the negative side. It feels inconsistent, but perhaps I'm just not listening closely enough. Or maybe I'm just having a hard time trusting the message at times.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

We Rise Together

This is my anthem for the day. "We Rise Together"

Today we are all casting our votes. No matter the outcome, we are a United States of America. It takes all of us to be that. It takes all of us to make America better. After today, let's take the energy we've shown, and put aside the anger and the fear and the mistrust of those with ideas different from our own, and each do our part, our unique contribution to affect Change in the world.

"...'Cause this country needs a change, for the better. If you believe we can make a difference...If you believe it takes all kinds of opinions to make freedom...If you believe that, would you say something with me: Rise..."

[It's easier to hear the lyrics in the music video.]

Flobots- "Rise"




So much pain we
Dont know how to be but angry
Feel infected like weve got gangrene
Please dont let anybody try to change me
Me
Just me
In the middle of a sea full of faces
Full of faces
Some laugh some salivate
Whats in your alleyway
Recycling bins or bullet cases
Its not equal
Its not fair
Were different people
But were not scared
We aint never scared
To pave a new path
Make a new street
Build a new bridge
Say can you see by the dawns early light
Free slaves running
Songs words werent right
Now a new days coming
The few stay stunning while the many are handsome
Your soul is alive but they want it for ransom
The base drumming is the anthem
We step to the heartbeats of our granddaughters and grandsons
And

Rise together we

Lost hope and found need
Grounded by our surroundings
Did the walls scream universities
Or you and i verse the tees
React automatic and we burst when squeezed
And make 9-11 each emergency
Urgency amber to red like the turning leaves
Oh please let the hurting cease
Don't let apathy police the populace
We will march across
Those stereotypes that were marked for us
The answers obvious
We switch the consonants
Change the sword to words and lift continents

If you believe in redemption
I'm calling to you from another dimension

Monday, November 3, 2008

Scents and Scentsibility

Hubby: I got your toothbrush when I stopped at the grocery store. (Starts handing it to me) What? It's scented!

Me: Scented? Why in the world would you need a scented toothbrush? Toothpaste is already scented!

Hubby: It has a scratch-n-sniff sticker on the box. (Sniffs) It's mint!

Me: What? (Sniffs also) It smells like toothpaste!?!



What in the %$&*ing world? This is what companies spend their time designing? I know I live in a cave, not watching TV and all, but geez louise! Evidently there's other scents for your toothbrush, like banana and vanilla-cherry. It's supposed to help remind you to replace it when the scent fades. Would that actually work, though? How long would you go before you think, 'Gosh, I can't smell the toothbrush underneath the toothpaste smell?'

I never gave much thought to the serious science of scented polymer resins, but it's all around us. You probably notice the scent on your trash bags, but did you know the technology is also used in lighting fixtures, cell phone clips, and food packaging? Coming soon: scented iPods (Christmas 2008) and SCENTED TEXT MESSAGES!!! I suppose it's good to know that somebody's doing well in this economy, even if it's off of something as ridiculous as scented toothbrushes!

But is all of this really needed, or desired, at a time when we are learning even more about the negative effects of chemicals on our health? Would these scented polymers add to the problem or not? And a more aesthetic concern--does it reduce our quality of life somewhat to be bombarded by so many cheap imitations of a true scents-ational experience?

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Cusak-therapy

A walk. The brisk air. The leaves starting to change. The clear sky. Acknowledging the heaviness inside. A new feline friend. And then lunch with some serendipaciousness.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Being gentle

True, I haven't posted in a while. It's just been one of those . . . well, you know. So what have I been up to over the past few months?

  • got the car fixed (it was the alternator)
  • helped throw a (wildly popular) baby shower
  • visited with friends from out of town
  • visited the First Friday art gallery openings in old towne with a friend
  • went to the MD Renaissance Festival: burly men in kilts throwing things
  • heard Emily and Megan Jean and Byrne Klay at The Griffin
  • attended another awesome house concert
  • visited a local horse rescue farm
  • went sailing for the first time (c'est bon): raising the mainsail, furling the jib, swimming with jellyfish, and hanging with the zephyrs on the starboard bow
  • breathed the same air as Mason Jennings at the 9:30 Club in DC
  • free-lance landscaping and (house) painting; fresh air, good company, iPod, communing with butterflies and puppies, and motivation for my own home and yard projects
  • am working weekends at Belvedere again for the Fall festivities and watching some of the most heavenly sunsets I've seen in a long time
  • signed up with a temp agency
  • actually getting into the presidential race play-by-play and applauding as political pundits punt Palin (thank you Governor, for such great comic relief at this time in my life)
  • being unable to resist wearing my Mason t-shirt again every time I wash it
  • crashed (in more ways than one) at my friends' house two weekends when I was flying solo
  • held a newborn baby
  • watched the entire first season of "Ugly Betty"
  • was measured up for a custom hand-knit sweater
  • continued with counseling and started on an anti-depressant
  • finished up the end of the CSA season as a volunteer/member
  • church, board meetings, small group meetings, veg group meetings, meditation, and assisting RE
  • setting a date with hubby at the local dinner theater
  • planning a trip to my alma mater
  • planning a trip to SC to be with my sister when she has her baby
All this sounds really good, here in a list. But this stuff is all a distraction. Healthy distractions, most likely, but nonetheless. It's not what's really going on--the underlying current that I finally dragged out of the ether and am now staring down. And I can't write here about it--about What's Really Going On. I can't email about it to friends. I haven't even been able to write about it to myself. It feels too permanent to put into words on paper (if you already know, please don't mention it specifically here).

I talk about it; I have no problem dumping on my friends when I need to, and I have needed to. And each time, it feels so raw that it shakes me up again, and the strength of it surprises even me. And so far, talking hasn't helped me figure it out. And though I do have a lot going on, I am slightly surprised to be learning that this is the main issue concerning me, that this is What's Really Going On. I haven't been able to see that clearly, but others have been able to sift through my various concerns and identify that. Even a tarot card reader stopped me after a few minutes of discussing a career-oriented question and asked me about What's Really Going On. So I am beginning to grapple with it. The anger, the fear, and most of all, the grief and sadness which are inherent in the potential implications. And with this and everything else, I am attempting to ". . . be where you are. Otherwise you will miss most of your life" (~Buddha).

And I am getting a message, loud and clear: "be gentle on yourself." The universe is reminding me of this through my friends, through song, through nature, through my reading, through random internet segways, and even my own inner voice. I am dealing with more issues, on an emotional level, than perhaps ever before. I am being told that am 'strengthening' my emotional muscles. I am being told that I am courageous; that I am taking good and brave steps. And since I so often focus on what I'm not doing, and on the fear and indecision that overwhelms me at times, it's nice to hear this from more 'grown-up' grown-ups, who have faced difficult times in their own lives.

Supposedly the Universe doesn't give us more than we can handle and that everything happens for a reason. And I usually believe that, but it's hard to see and doesn't always make sense within the context life. Part of 'handling' all of this, I think, is learning to ask for help from others and from the Divine when our own resources have run out. And if you believe, as I do, that we are all truly One, with each other and with God/the Universe, then reaching out and reaching up are other forms of reaching within oneself. After all, sometimes you can't make it on your own.

I hope that soon I'll better understand what I'm feeling and what that means for me. For now, I'm just here with it.




"Fix You" by Cold Play
When you try your best, but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse


And the tears come streaming down on your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?


Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you


And high up above or down below

When you're too in love to let it go

If you never try you'll never know

Just what you're worth


Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you


Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down on your face

And I...


Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

Tears stream down your face

And I...


Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

OH YEAH, baby!


Need I say more? See you there! Or not--it actually won't matter much to me once Mason enters the room...

Friday, September 19, 2008

That Left Turn

My car must hate that left turn. It's the one I take at some point nearly every day. It's the last left turn before I get to my neighborhood. It's less than half a mile from my neighborhood.

It's the left-turn lane where I rear-ended someone three months ago.


It's the same left-turn lane where my car stalled completely out tonight. And oh, what a great place to be. The very front of a left-turn lane right at the beginning of Friday night rush-hour traffic.

For reference, I was in the eastern side of the intersection. The east left-turn lane.

The battery light had gone on yesterday...but we'd just replaced the battery a few weeks ago, so surely it didn't need immediate attention. So I'd just dropped by the bank to deposit actual earnings, and was on my way home. Coming over the 95 overpass, my car stereo sputtered then died. Weird. Okay, hubby will take this in in the morning to get it checked out. Then, I'm at the stop light at the intersection. The east left-turn lane. The air-bag light starts to flicker. Really weird. Okay, hubby will definitely take it in tomorrow. Then the car starts sputtering. Uh, oh. Come on, baby. Just give me a few more minutes, just another mile. Please don't die on me in the middle of this busy intersection in the middle of rush hour traffic. Please don't... Oh crap.

So there I am. In the middle of rush hour traffic with a stalled car. I put on the flashers. The left-turn light turns green. The cars behind me begin to honk and wave their arms angrily. Evidently they never figured out what their emergency flashers are for. I wave back in frustration as I dig out my insurance company's number from the glove box. Eventually the cars behind start driving around me, to the left. No compassion, these people.

This scenario repeats for at least 5 light changes, as each new line of cars behind me learns (very slowly) that I'm stalled and I'm not going anywhere. Then the flashers die completely, so it's even more fun. (By fun, I mean embarrassing and frustrating.) One kind soul does pull up beside me and ask if I need help. They call the police while I'm trying to get through my insurance company's automated menu. Of course I can't remember my pin number at a time like this! And no, I don't want to clearly speak "I don't know" into the phone at a time like this! I eventually resort to pressing zero repeatedly. Whoever invented those automated menus should be shot. Repeatedly. Or, even better, be sent to automated phone menu hell, a hell of their own making.

Eventually I reach a real person and ask for the Emergency Roadside Assistance department. They ask if I require emergency assistance or just the roadside assistance department. Didn't I just ask for the emergency roadside assistance department? Huh? Oh, they are asking if I need the police. No, just roadside assistance; someone has already called the police for me. Am I in a safe location? I don't think so! I'm effing stalled in the middle (okay, not exactly the middle, but the left-turn lane) of an intersection. My life is in peril from these people behind me. So I get the Roadside Assistance person, and they ask me if they can ask me a few questions to better provide me service? What? I had to have her repeat the question. I was busy waving another angry line of cars around me. And yes, ask the questions. Please don't waste my time for permission to ask me what you need to know. She asks "Are you in a safe location?" and "Do you require police, etc?" Oh, God.

So finally, they get the information they need, including where I want the car towed (which, after figuring out, I had to repeat half a dozen times and eventually spell--I'm sure the stressed-out tone in my voice was not appreciated). They tell me I will get a call soon with the tow truck company's name and ETA. Meanwhile, I'm still waving angry drivers around me. The call comes in not long after, telling me that the tow truck should be there within an hour. An HOUR. Oh, God. By this time, I've also reached hubby to apprise him of the situation.

Soon after, a county cop pulls up behind me. Thank God! I talk with him briefly, and he sits behind me with his lights on until the tow truck arrives. Now, at least, no one is beeping at me anymore. No--now the drivers in the northern left-turn land are rubber-necking at me as they drive past me and the cop car. Remember, I don't have flashers on. I look like someone who's gotten busted. Yeah, that's me. I got busted. All the drivers that pass me have this look on their face, like "who's the criminal" and "shame on you." I am a pariah. Meanwhile--and this is kinda fun--the drivers in the southern left-turn lane area also rubber-necking, to the point where they aren't paying attention to their own light turning green. So now, they're getting beeped from behind. Ah, the simple things.

The drivers behind me, behind the cop (who still has his lights on), are just sitting there waiting for us to move. Eventually they realize that's not happening, so they move to the right and either turn left in front of us or just go straight. I'm watching the progression in the side mirror. Some are turning around at the CVS and taking another street to get to the next light up. But, predictably, as soon as one line of cars clears, a new line comes up behind the cop, and the whole dance starts over again. Some of them sit through several light cycles. I hear a few beeps behind me. I wonder if they're beeping at the cop. Probably not. The only cars that immediately get into the next lane when they see the blue lights are other cops.

Eventually I realize that the left-turn lane light is no longer turning green. Someone downtown has turned it off. My lane is permamently (at least temporarily) red. This really confuses the drivers behind me, I think. I continue to watch the line of cars behind me in my side mirror. Nope, not hubby. Nope, not the tow truck. Not hubby, not the tow truck.

At some point, during the midst of the embarrassment and stress, a friend's face pops in my mind and says 'isn't this a great time to practice extending compassion to others in a similar situation or with similar feelings?' And part of me says, 'Really, at a time like this?' And my friend says, 'What better time?' Of course he's right. I sigh, and remember that this is a short-term discomfort. I feel slightly better.

The tow truck arrives. (Thankfully well under an hour.) Hubby arrives. I ride with the tow-truck driver to the dealership. The insurance company's automated service calls during the ride to advise me that my tow-truck driver should arrive within 15 minutes. The driver, Vince, is very nice. He thinks it's the alternator. Or the battery was not the right kind, but more likely the alternator. He manages to get enough power to the car so I can roll up the windows. We sign in and then drive home. As I'm unlocking the front door, the insurance company's automated service calls to advise that my tow should have arrived by now. I have a beer. And then I blog.


(And about the aforementioned accident, what can I say, I was preoccupied. If I told you the story you'd understand. And it was my first at-fault incident ever, so I'm doing pretty good, considering my history of accidents [mostly as passenger except for the one where both cars were totaled]. Another long story for another time!)

Friday, August 29, 2008

I'm drinking watermelon juice...

...and I know you're completely jealous!

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

It's a boy!

On Saturday, the chrysalis was still green like before, although it did seem slightly lumpier in the middle. It twitched when a friend blew gently on it. Today--surprise! Hubby was on his way to work and came back in to tell me that the butterfly had emerged. I watched it for long time while it sat there, gently folding and unfolding (just slightly) its wings and gaining strength.

Eventually the breeze was too much for it, and it flitted down to the ground and then to some weeds under the car to sun itself further. The large yellow spots indicate that this baby's a male black swallowtail butterfly. What an amazing thing that those caterpillars, who just two weeks ago were munching the parsley, are now emerging as these beautiful creatures. Now, on to planting some more flowers and parsley for our new friends. Namaste, little butterfly.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

I have not slept in 8 years

I have various theories on this:

1. My husband is HOT. Seriously. He emanates body heat like nobody's business. This is convenient a lot of the time for me, particularly in the winter, since I have thin blood vessels and thus do not regulate heat well. Sometimes I complain when he goes to bed long after me, because I cannot get warm enough on my own, no matter how many blankets I pile on. However, a few hours of this during the summertime and I'm throwing covers off of me because I'm overheated.

2. My husband steals the covers. This he will adamantly deny, but it's true. I should know; I'm the one waking up, not him. I like to be snuggled in even when its warm outside.

3. My husband sleeps like a log. I am a light sleeper and wake up at the slightest stimulus. This can include, but is not limited to: a) becoming over or under-heated b) having the covers stolen from my side of the bed, and c) crazy nocturnal cat shenanigans. Deep down I think I resent hubby for sleeping so well. Perhaps the Universe has some comic need to balance his heavy sleeping by making me sleep less.

OK, since I know some of you are snickering and planning to give him a hard time about the above, on to some reasons that don't involve blaming my husband, and which perhaps have more physiological validity:

4. I'm stressed. When I'm worried I toss and turn for hours while various (usually negative) scenarios play out in my head. Also, this pattern of sleeplessness has been around 8 years long, which while it coincides with my marriage, also coincides with starting my job with corporate America. While marriage can be stressful, ours has been on the blessedly happy and content side (yeah I know, gag gag, whatever). And college was a stressful time, too, but I slept like a baby back then, most of the time. I would wake up a few minutes before the alarm clock rang every single day. I stopped using the alarm clock because my body always knew when to get up, even when my schedule changed. Now I wake up before the alarm clock rings, but its hours, not minutes before. So, working for the man is the more likely culprit. Ultimately, however, I think stress has more to do with why I can't get back to sleep than with why I wake up.

5. I have some imbalance or intoxication in my liver. According to Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), energy flows through 12 different meridians over a 24-hour period. Each meridian is associated with a different organ, and since I generally wake up at about 3am, this could indicate my liver is somehow involved. Of course TCM also suggests that heart/spleen issues commonly cause insomnia. Actually, looking over that list (at the prior link), I have all of those symptoms involving both the liver and heart/spleen. Maybe I should go see Steve Chen as my mother-in-law keeps insisting.

6. An imbalance of my Vata-Kapha nature, based on the ancient Ayurvedic tradition. I've been reading about this, and I'm still pretty rough, but I think I'm getting a slight grip on it. It all relates to the body and what types of food is better for different doshas, or natures, of people. Vata is the air/space side of me seated in the throat and heart chakras, which gives me, of the three doshas, the "greatest potential for a profound spiritual life" (I'm not making this up), but also makes me vulnerable to worrying and insecurity. On the other hand, my Kapha nature is the more grounded side of me (water/earth related to the root and sacral chakras), giving me my motherly and practical nature, but on the flip side vulnerable to lethargy and depression. The Vata and Kapha natures are fairly diametrically opposed, but together it seems they can balance the other's weaknesses. Basically I'm spacey and grounded, spiritual yet practical. Down to the main point here . . . Vata energy is most active between the hours of 2 and 6 (am and pm), so are most likely to become restless and lose sleep during those early am hours. And it seems fairly plain to me that both my Vata and Kapha natures are imbalanced, since I'm showing negative signs on both fronts, although the symptoms seem to overlap somewhat.

7. I am deficient in minerals, possibly including magnesium. My herbalist confirmed that I'm mineral deficient, which I've discussed briefly before. My chiropractor recommended a magnesium supplement, because it helps the body relax, and is needed to balance the effects of calcium in the body. We hear we need calcium all the time, but hardly ever hear about magnesium. This stuff is supposed to help me sleep better. Well it works great for Steve but has yet to do the trick for me.

8. I have hypothyroidism. I have never ruled this out even though my doctor did some test saying I'm not, since I show so many symptoms. And the normal blood test isn't supposed to be that reliable, according to nearly every alternative medicine source I've read. Thyroid function is connected with the production of serotonin, which helps regulate mood, temperature, blood pressure, sleep, etc. etc. Another complication is the common prescribing of antidepressants like Prozac, Zoloft, etc, which are selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs). If depression is due to hypothyroidism, then the underlying cause is not being treated, and the drugs are not effective until the hypothyroidism is addressed.

9. One of the other 442 causes of sleeplessness.

10. Alternately, I'm just thinking about this too darn much and it's keeping me awake.

So what do I need to do? For starters, follow all the normal advice that it's so hard to do:
1. Exercise
2. Drink lots of water
3. Eat healthy
4. Don't eat after 8 pm
5. Go to bed at the same time every night... the earlier the better ("an hour of sleep prior to midnight is equal to 2 hours of sleep after midnight")
6. Take my magnesium and other supplements even when I can't tell it's making an immediate difference
7. Get checked for hypothyroidism before I jump on the SSRI bandwagon
8. Get regular massages!! (Olivia, I know where to come!)
9. Hire a personal chef who can provide healthy and enticing meals for me every single day at the right time of the day
10. Hire a maid to do all the crap around the house that I just don't want to
11. Heck, while I'm at it... hire a personal assistant and a personal trainer and a life coach to help me keep organized and motivated with everything else
12. Win the lottery to make all the rest of this possible (not just so I can afford #8-11, but so I have time to do the rest!)
13. Sigh (aka remember to breathe), try not to get overwhelmed, and at least start...baby steps, right?

and last but not least

14. Just pull the covers back over and go back to sleep!

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Chrysalis away

So, over last week, the caterpillars disappeared a few at a time, before all the parsley was eaten up. I never saw them crawling away, so I feared that our caterpillar's all-you-can-eat parsley buffet had become a bird's all-you-can-eat caterpillar buffet. Which is the way of things, I suppose. I have yet to become an active bird feeder, although along with the squirrels they find a lot in our yard to keep them around.

However, at least one has survived and is well on its way to butterfly-dom. Steve noticed one of the caterpillars hanging from the side of the house one day, and within a day or two it had chrysalized (is that a word?). It's pretty small--it seems about half the size that the caterpillars were. I will keep you updated on its progress!

Friday, August 8, 2008

I have so many famous friends!

Just to name a few more... there's Emily, a local singer/songwriter, who I finally got to see play last night at The Loft. We had a great time and stayed the whole evening even though hubby had to get up early for work. I had one too many Cosmos, though. My headache is finally fading.

And then there's Jerry! He's in the Free-Lance Star today, in an article about his now-ended yet famed career at the local coffee shop, Hyperion Espresso. Jerry's bound for bigger and better things so this won't be the last you hear from him. We had a great weekend recently with Jerry and Jason at their new Culpeper digs.

There's more of you out there! I'm excited to see you each get your turn in the sun. I'm famous, too, the world just doesn't know it yet!

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Name that caterpillar...

This weekend, hubby and I found these little guys hanging out on our parsley. It's second-year parsley, so it's gone to seed. Momma must've laid her eggs there, but it didn't seem to me to be a great leafy place for caterpillars to grow up. But they seemed full, since they were just hanging out, not eating. And they look pretty fat and well-fed. We counted about 10 caterpillars that evening.

Actual parsley-munchers in our yard

Today I noticed that there were only 2 left on the second-year parsley, and all the seeds and remaining vegetation was nearly gone. A few feet down is some self-seeded first-year parsley, and there are about 5 of these guys on there, munching away. Where the other 3 are, I don't want to know. They could've found greener pastures, or they could've made someone a green tasty snack. Hopefully not my neighbor's 18-month old son.

Not being a bug expert, I went online to try and identify these guys. I was desperately hoping that they didn't turn out to be the caterpillars of some nasty creature or boring moth or something. At least they weren't those terrible things that have the giant nests in trees and when they hatch they devour the tree and fall on top of you when you get near it. The Eastern tent caterpillar-yeah, that's it (I had to look that up too). Please don't let these be anything nasty like that.

Thank the universe for the interwebs, and all the people out there crazy about caterpillars who set up these great identification search engines. It took me a few tries, but I found our guest: the American or black swallowtail butterfly. Ahhh... big sigh of relief. A fairly common butterfly in these parts, and cousin to Virginia's state insect, the Tiger swallowtail butterfly. These are evidently full-grown caterpillars, so soon they will turn yellower as they enter the pupa stage. Someday these critters will be nice and pretty like this:


As it turns out, they lay their eggs on plants that the caterpillars most like to feast upon: members of the parsley family (including carrots, fennel, dill, celery, and Queen Anne's lace). It would be great to watch them as they enter their chrysalis stage and then turn into butterflies. The only problem with that plan is that they're going to run out of parsley sometime tomorrow. I either need to find more parsley-like material for them to munch on or find someone else who can host them. Hmmm...

Who would have thought caterpillars would work their way to the top of my priority list?

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Namaste to Knoxville

I don't understand violence and I don't understand hatred. This weekend's shooting (read first-hand accounts) in Knoxville hit close to home, since I am a part of the Unitarian Universalist community. Tonight my church, the UU Fellowship of Fredericksburg, held a candlelight vigil in love and support of the Knoxville community. We took our candles outside where we sang "This little light of mine" and "Tomorrow" from Annie. We shared our thoughts and grief. There was a powerful feeling of strength and solidarity between us and with the larger UU community.

I remember similar feelings of shock and grief when the shooting at the Amish school happened nearly two years ago (not to mention the VA Tech shooting, also so close to home). Who would want to harm the Amish, some of the most peaceful people in the world? My church was deeply touched by their response of forgiveness and love, and that is again the feeling that is emanating from Knoxville during this difficult time. Indeed, the front-page quote on the Tennessee Valley UU Church's website reads:

"Love is the spirit of this church and service is its law. This is our great covenant: to live together in peace, to seek the truth in love, and to help one another." ~ James Vila Blake
I was also touched by the observations of Annette Marquis, our district executive, who I met a few weeks ago at a leadership conference at my church. She has been helping the Knoxville UU community, and her experiences give a first-hand look at the response there. I encourage you to take a look. If you are also inclined to leave your thoughts and prayers for the Knoxville community, a blog and a Facebook group have been set up for that purpose.

A special note of thanks in my heart goes out to the members of
Second Presbyterian Church in Knoxville, as well as the larger interfaith community, who opened their arms and hearts wide for the TVUUC members during and after this tragedy.
~~~
The liberal UU faith is getting more attention as a result of this tragedy. It is often difficult for UU's to explain our faith, since we allow each other freedom in finding our individual beliefs. I, myself, have been embarrassed recently by my inability to articulate UUism to a new friend (I'm so much better writing than speaking on the spot!), so I am working on that, especially since I now represent my church as the youngest member of our current Board of Trustees. I am also linking to a few other UU-oriented blogs that I have come across, Transient and Permanent and the Socinian, since they are more adept than I am currently in discussing UU issues and apologetics. Of particular interest to me were the Socinian's entries on Biblical Prooftexting for UUs and Reinterpreting John 14:6, which elegantly describes in intellectual terms the path my heart and spirit have taken.

Unitarian Universalism comes from a rich historical faith tradition and are bound by seven principles, which include
a belief in the inherent worth and dignity of every person. We welcome those from all faith (and non-faith) traditions, and there are those in my congregation who would call themselves Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Pagan, Atheist, Agnostic, Humanist, Hindu, and more, as well as those who would prefer not to be labeled at all. Our greatest bond is our love and respect for each other. I truly believe that when we act in Love, we are expressing the same Spirit, the same Source, the same God, no matter what name we give to it. In the immortal words of Mason Jennings (my new favorite singer/songwriter), "Look deep in your heart and know that we are one."


"Let us commit ourselves to living out our theology. Let us celebrate being part of a reasonable and a passionate faith--a faith that requires us to engage deeply with moral questions. This work is difficult and the discoveries will be different for each of us, but we must always remember that is is through our most human quality, the ability to love, that we can touch the Divine. So may it be, and Amen."

Monday, July 28, 2008

The impeded stream

It may be that when we no longer know which way to go we have come to our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings. ~ Wendell Berry, Collected Poems.

There have always been two places where I feel close to God through nature and where I find healing: the mountains and the ocean. I am learning that I need to retreat to both places regularly for the sake of regenerating my soul and spirit. And in general, my husband and I need vacations just for us. We have not had a 'real' vacation in 5 years. We have had many trips out of town, but mostly to visit friends or relatives at holidays, weddings, or more recently, a series of funerals. I have not sojourned to the mountains, except incidentally, in 9 years, although during our trips to Ferrum and Roanoke I did feel refreshed by being among the hills and mountains. I have not traveled to the ocean at all in 10 years, so that is where I set my attention this summer.


My gracious friend opened her home to me, which made the trip easy and affordable. It was a time to relax without guilt, to just be. I made it to Huntington Beach once, and to Buckroe Beach on the Chesapeake Bay three times. I attended three yoga classes, and had a lovely massage. I ate out alone for lunch most days at a lovely deli across the street where every attention was paid me, and for dinner either stayed in or ate out with Hope as company. Evenings I would snuggle on the couch in my pj's and silk kimono robe and read or watch television. On my last day we went to the cinema to the ultimate feel-good summer movie.

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play in your hair. ~ Kahil Gibran

The beach gave me just what I needed. The saltwater and sun are both healing to the body. I swam and floated in the sea, walked the long shoreline, and just listened and watched the waves crashing on the shore. The waves ebb and flow, one after the other, now quiet and now loud. Being near the ocean helps me deepen my breath--I often find I'm holding my breath or breathing very shallow especially during stressful times. I also think of the ocean often when meditating, as it helps me let go of stray thoughts when I think of each thought as a different wave that is just crashing on shore then washing away back into the stillness of my mind.


"Prana" is the Sanskit word for "breath" or "life-force", similar in meaning to the Chinese word "qi" or "chi", the Greek "pneuma," and the Hebrew "ruah" which refers to the "Breath of Life" in Genesis that created the world and the physical being of man. The practice of yoga (meaning "to control" or "to unite") centers around the breath and prepares one for meditation. In daily life, we often 'take a breather' or even just sigh deeply when we are stressed or angry and need to calm down and center ourselves. Is it any wonder, then, that I was instinctively drawn to the ocean and yoga practice during my retreat? I need oxygen in a big way, on all levels--physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual.

The way our breath behaves within us becomes a dynamic metaphor for the way we move on the outside. Full breaths are characteristic of living a full life, and visa-versa. ~ Catherine Ghosh, The Breath of Bhakti: Pranayama from a devotional perspective.

By inhaling, we provide much-needed oxygen to our cells, and by exhaling rid our body of carbon dioxide. When we
don't breathe well, we acidify our body, which opens us up to all kinds of dis-ease. I have larger-than-normal lungs, but due to my asthma I am using about 18% less lung capacity than the normal woman (with normal lungs) my size. I developed asthma and migraines around the same time as I was taking on more responsibility at work. (Coincidence?) Later, as the stress increased both at work and outside I developed heartburn, and high cholesterol. I got tired of the drug cocktail my doctors had me on and went to an herbalist to get to the root of the problem(s). It wasn't a big surprise when a BT assessment showed that my body was de-mineralized and overly acidic. Although I can't prove it, I am convinced that the majority of my health issues were directly related to stress. Add to everything a trough of depression that I can't shake alone (the body is so attached to the mind!).

Meditation, a better diet, exercise, counseling, and a less stressful and more fulfilling job are all in my program for better health, and I'm working on each one in degrees. My vacation filled a need, although it wasn't the instant cure-all that part of me secretly hoped for. But I got what I knew deep inside I really needed--stillness, awareness, time for simply being without guilt. After all, inner peace isn't hiding on some beach somewhere. Everything I need is inside of me, waiting to be expressed, interpreted, delivered, born again into my reality.

While remembering, yet again, this truth during my retreat, here is part of what I wrote:

Yet God has spoken to me this week. Through my yoga asanas, through the hands of the masseuse, through the friendliness and care of the Deli Basket staff, through the gentle company of a friend, through the persistence of a cat, through the rolling of the ocean, the rough sand on my feet, the sun burning my skin. And more directly through the printed word--reminding me that everything is connected--my emotions and my health, myself and the Universe, and the great religions of the ages. And even in loneliness and aloneness, in sadness and in boredom, God is there--I am there--I am. I am here, right now. I am here right now--God experiencing life as Heather. I have everything I need.

I may be, in this moment, an impeded stream. But that's okay. I'll observe this part of my journey; simply be here with it with a gentle, knowing joy. And when it's time to move on, I will do so, again with joy.

Namaste.

Friday, July 25, 2008

My friend made the paper with his tasty creations

Yes, it's Jim Daddy in the Martinsville Bulletin, in "The right attitude is the key to cooking for kids"--check it out.


Monday, July 14, 2008

Nice Asana

Yoga at Zenya was wonderful this morning. It felt great to get up and get going my first day here. I knew a lot of the poses from my other classes, and was challenged by a few new ones. I've lined up a few more classes and a massage for this week. It started pouring down rain while I was preparing for the beach, so that was postponed. For lunch I ventured to the Deli Basket, which is just across the street. The guys there are so friendly! By the time I left, they practically knew my life story. I had an egg-salad sandwich, the best potato salad I've ever eaten, and a strawberry jam cheesecake that was almost too pretty to eat. I think I'll go back tomorrow. The rest of the rainy afternoon was spent reading, napping, and being nuzzled by the resident calico cat, Sprinkle. Then grocery shopping with Hope at the farmer's market and Trader Joe's!! My first time at a Trader Joe's--we so need one in the 'burg! I made a favorite meal, pasta g viola, for our dinner along with ceasar salad and bread. Checked in with hubby, then curled up for more reading and channel-flipping.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

I have arrived...

I am comfortably nestled in Hope's apartment in Newport News. We had dinner at Panera, then went to Huntington Park Beach, just a few miles away. It is on the James River close to where it meets the ocean. Not the same beauty as the ocean, but I was able to take a swim! Tomorrow morning I've got a yoga class at 9.

Fabulosity

The word "fabulous" has been coming up a lot in the past few days. I'm not going to waste a good mood by not sharing it, so here I am.

Tonight hubby and I went to a fabulous house concert (thanks, Ruth!) tonight in Hartwood featuring the World Jam Club. Great music, superb company (conveniently a lot of my friends were there), excellent food (potluck with style), a beautiful location (thanks Bill!), a little cha-cha dancing, and cozy conversation. I got tons of compliments on my outfit, necklace, and legs! (A special shout-out to my new fashion guru Lara, who went shopping with me on Thursday.) I'm tired, my feet hurt, but what a great evening!


Later today I'll head down to the beach for my self-prescribed retreat. I'm staying with my friend Hope (how appropriate is that?) and after a week, I'll visit my folks for a few days before returning home. It's long overdue time to do something fun for myself and take some time to look within. A friend reminded me tonight that I am equipped with everything I need--inside. I just need to be able to see it again. It's great to be surrounded by so many people who can see and who remind me when it's not so clear to me.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

depression sucks


de·pres·sion \di-ˈpre-shÉ™n, dÄ“-\ 2b (2): a psychoneurotic or psychotic disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies

suck \ˈsək\ 4 slang : to be objectionable or inadequate

Depression sucks. Need I say more? I suppose now that I've opened this Pandora's box, I might as well jump right in and own it. I wasn't sure I was going to, here on this blog, because it's not something people like to hear about. It's not something everyone even understands. Yes, I have met people who have little to no experience with depression. It's nice to know that they are out there, not being depressed. Thankfully, the ones I'm thinking of are close friends of mine and are helpful in engaging me in life when I'm down. But it's also real nice to have those friends who are or have been where I'm at. And thank God my husband does understand.

Depression runs in my family. It runs in my husband's family. Generally, we have cycled through our own mild ups and downs in a fairly symbiotic manner...when I was down, he was able to help me, and visa versa. And even then we discussed the idea of seeing a counselor. But now we're both on a more serious down cycle at the same time, so we're finally seeking help. It has been a very tough year for us--those of you who are close know what I'm talking about. And if you don't know, feel free to ask. All of it has had a deeper toll on us than we realized.

Earlier in the week I updated my Facebook status to "...thinks life sucks."
[Depression and PMS together really suck!] A few friends called me out on it, expressing concern and asking what was up. I was very grateful to have friends who would do that. I was able, later, to change my status to "... needs to offer herself the same grace she extends to others." And again, it was nice to hear from others who understood what I meant.

I never know how to answer the inevitable "How are you doing?"--the standard greeting between friends and acquaintances. Even without the depression, one often wonders how much detail to get into. Everyone has good days, bad days, and mundane-blah days. Now, though, answering that question with an "okay" could mean "I've had a pretty good day considering, and I'm feeling alright in the present moment" or "I've had a really bad day but it seems like poor etiquette to bring everyone else down." It's even hard right now to ask for what I need--even to simply call my close friends. I just don't want to bother anyone.

Therapy starts during the next few weeks for both of us. I am planning a retreat for myself--Friday I'm leaving and will return in 12 days. It's time to recharge my batteries, meditate, and lose myself in nature and in surroundings that are removed from my normal responsibilities and routine. I am going to attempt to abstain from the computer, TV, and phone calls (except for checking in with hubby) during that time. Although I'm playing with the idea of a daily blog update, for those of you back home. We'll see.

Today started out okay, then got a little worse as the day dragged on. I finally called a friend and went over to her house. We painted for a while (yes, I painted!). Then I tried on a bunch of her dresses to borrow some for my trip. I had my own little fashion show for her, her kids, and my hubby. Then we had dinner together and watched a few episodes of "Friends." When we got home, we walked a bit with our neighbor. All in all, a good evening.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

A Belated Eulogy for the Palomino Club


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This is my tribute to the Palomino Club in Greensboro, NC--the place where I grew up, the place that formed me into a brassier woman, the place where I became wise in the ways of the world--in other words, wise in the ways of men. This is my tribute to the place I loved to dance, sweat, and twirl around the hardwood floor in the arms of the country men of Carolina; the place where I breathed in my share of second-hand smoke, drank a few Bud Lites but many more bottled waters, and had my hand stamped with an "X" and later with the over-21 Palomino mark. But most of all, this was the place where my boots would step, slide, scuff, stomp, shuffle, rock, grapevine, dig, turn, pivot, twirl, and otherwise make their mark on the dance floor. Man, I loved to dance!

"I'm a member of a country club, country music is what I love." ~ Travis Tritt

The building itself was not very noteworthy--marked by a modest neon sign out front (along with the "park in rear" sign)-- and the parking lot was riddled with giant potholes. Evidently it was a roller skating rink in its previous incarnation. You walked in the front door, showed your membership card and license, signed in, paid the cover charge, got your hand stamped, and in the colder months checked your Carhart jacket. To the immediate left was the women's bathroom with the men's on the right. Step around the partition, and you entered the club at the back of the room near one of the three bars--with another bar on the right side and one near the D.J. on the left. On the far wall was the stage, with live music. Some chairs and tables lined the back and sides of the room, with Amos the mechanical bull and a few pool tables on the right side near the entrance. And in the middle by the stage was the much-used hardwood floor, with a rail forming a ring around the outside for the two-steppers.

"My Boots" Oil Painting, Fall 1996
2nd Place, Boone's Mill Apple Festival


My first visit to the Palomino was with a girlfriend of mine, Kaitlyn, and another friend of hers after their high school graduation--June of 1995. I was home from my first year of college. One night at the Palomino, and we were hooked. Afterwards, we went as often as possible, even when I returned to college (an hour and a half north in VA) and after my folks moved south to Charlotte and I spent my breaks there. When I got married in 2000, I moved too far away to go, but I always liked the idea that the Palomino was still there, and that I could go on my way through town if I really got the itch. It was comforting to think of the guys I knew still there, hanging out, playing pool (assuming they hadn't settled down by then). That thought was nice . . . until a few weeks ago, when I learned that the Palomino club was razed in July of 2000. I paid $2.95 to get the details from the Greensboro News & Record archives. The Palomino was demolished, and storage units were put in its place. I am devastated.

"Life's a dance, you learn as you go. Sometimes you lead, and sometimes you follow." ~ John Michael Montgomery

Kaitlyn is a blonde blue-eyed beauty to my brunette and hazel. We are both very tall and stood out over most of the women in the club, and many of the men. Together we made quite a pair, a dynamic duo. The beautiful thing about my friendship with Kaitlyn was that we always were attracted to, and attracted, different men. We never had a conflict over any guy. We always stuck together and always went home together. Sometimes going home included a stop for breakfast with the guys, sometimes we sent our phone numbers home with someone new, but for us it was always a girls' night out. We loved country music and loved to dance. We took every opportunity to get out on the floor when our favorite songs came on. The perfect nights seemed to start when we would hear the first few bars of T-R-O-U-B-L-E as soon as we signed in at the front door.

Tracy Byrd playing at the Palomino

There were plenty of concerts that we saw at the Palomino...I know I can't remember them all: Tracy Byrd, Shenandoah, Rick Trevino, Rhett Akins, and Chris LeDoux (twice! He threw carnations out to the women). Kaitlyn and I also went to see George Strait at the Greensboro Coliseum, and Brooks & Dunn in Raleigh--an evening and a car accident I will never forget. Another of Kaitlyn's friends, Bethany, often joined us at the Palomino. One summer the three of us made a pilgrimage to Nashville. We went to the Country Music Hall of Fame (saw Alan Jackson's jeans from the Chattahoochee video), did some shopping, and danced the nights away (but not at the Wildhorse--we were too young to get in there unaccompanied.)

"She's a devil, she's an angel, she's a woman, she's a child. She's a heartache when she leaves you, but she'll leave you with a smile." ~ George Strait

During my junior year in college, Kaitlyn moved to Texas for a while, then joined the Marine Reserves. I mailed a plethora of letters to her while she was in boot camp in Parris Island, along with collages and reminders of our Palomino adventures. She would write when she could. During her absence, I still went dancing when I could find someone to go with. I remember going with Davina, a gal from college, and her two Marine buddies, Eric and Dave, from Camp LeJeune. We had a full night of dancing, had to call a locksmith to get into the car, stopped by the Waffle House, got back to college at dawn, and I drew a sketch of Dave while we talked before calling it a night. When Kaitlyn graduated from boot camp 2nd in her platoon (who knew such a beautiful lady could be so tough?) we had a grand reunion at--where else?--the Palomino. For a belated celebration of my 21st birthday, she bought me a couple Bud Lites, and we danced 'til "Happy Trails" came on at closing and they kicked us out.

"Kaitlyn and Me", Oil Painting, Spring 1997
2nd Place, Ferrum College Student Art Show

Also, there were the men. There's just not a Palomino without the men. I could never forget them, but forgive me--I can't recall all the names. Roy was a constant, always there to talk to in between dances, with his circle of friends. Tex was also there, especially towards the end of our heyday, and was a good two-step partner (not always an easy thing to find). Adam, too--I remember going to breakfast with them once, when Adam gifted me with some fairly severe but amusing caricatures. Dean and I danced occasionally--he was just getting over a serious relationship (but who wasn't?). Robbie, Scott, and a multitude of nameless faces, including the three sexy men I danced with on my 20th, and who gave me birthday kisses.

"I could've missed the pain, but I would've missed the dance." ~ Garth Brooks

Sexy men, plain men, sweet men, scary men, young men, old men, tall men (my most uncomfortable slow dance ever was with this really tall guy who was too used to bending over to dance with short women), short men (who did try but never really had a chance with either one of us), blue-collar, white-collar, guys with the tight cowboy-cut Wranglers (mmm!), guys with really tight "spray-on" Wranglers (uh...no!), guys with cowboy boots, many with cowboy hats, the rodeo men and bull-riders with the dinner-plate belt buckles who really did it up during the Tush-Push, the guys who would line-dance and the ones who preferred to watch the women, the guys who were good two-steppers (loved them!), and the ones who, sadly, only thought they were.

"Autumn Meditation" Watercolor Painting, Fall 1998
People's Choice and 1st Place, Ferrum College Student Art Show

And then there were the men we dated. I'll let Kaitlyn tell her own stories--I'll just say she never lacked for someone interested in her. Of the handful of men I dated from the Palomino, there were a few of special note. There was Will, the army guy who lied about his age to go out with me (he was actually 30, not 25). My sister found us on New Year's Eve asleep on the couch and ratted me out to my folks when they came home. Kaitlyn died of laughter when my mother, after my dad left the room, leaned over and asked "How was his body?" There was Keith, my Bryan White look-alike, who never stopped laughing--I remember him going with me to buy art supplies while it was pouring rain outside. I remember him laughing, always laughing. There was David, who came to visit me at college and showed up in part of his fireman gear (SEXY!) and later drove us down to the Palomino and back. And last but certainly not least, Mike, another fireman, who seemed so nervous with me, especially after my mother whipped out the video camera on him when he arrived at the house (really, Mom!). Mike was a sweetheart and I was always glad for a dance with him. The men who treated me with respect quickly won a place in my heart, and I hated breaking their hearts or my own by saying goodbye.

"We all take different paths in life, but no matter where you go, you take a little bit of each other everywhere you go." ~ Tim McGraw

As I said, I grew up at the Palomino. I went into my Palomino days young, naive, and clueless when a guy was interested in me. I left a few years older and a much wiser woman. I learned what kind of men to avoid and which ones were worth spending time with. I learned to say "no" politely, and how to say "NO" not-so-politely when necessary. I learned to trust my instincts. I learned that everyone there was hurting in some way, and so I learned compassion, both for others and for myself. I learned to see beyond appearances. I learned that girlfriends are often there when a man is not. I learned to trust my girlfriends' instincts. I learned that when a man is overly and irrationally jealous, then it is probably more of a reflection of his actions than one's own. I learned that although I may give my heart to a man, I belonged, first of all, to myself and to my God, and ultimately would have to answer only to my own conscience. I learned to live without regrets. I learned that I am most beautiful when I cast off any self-consciousness and just be myself and have fun.


Time went on and eventually Kaitlyn and I found the men we would marry. Our times together became less frequent. We had one last girls' night out at the Palomino, and in 2000 were married within a month of each other. I said goodbye to the Palomino back then, but always thought I would step out onto that hardwood floor again someday. Alas, within a few months of my wedding it no longer even existed. And although there are other country bars in the world, it could never be our old Palomino. So now, I raise my glass (a stiff Jack and Coke) in a toast to all the good ol' days:

Goodnight, Palomino. And to all the Palomino men, to the Palomino ladies, to everyone else who loves to move your boots on a hardwood floor when you hear the fiddle and steel guitar, and especially to Kaitlyn--Happy Trails to you, until we meet again.


"You can take the girl out of the honky tonk, but you can't take the honky tonk [out of the girl]" ~ Brooks & Dunn