Challenge - Day 11: "In Your Bag"

You don't really want to know what's in my bag, because there's nothing interesting. I'm just another one of those women who keeps a lot of "stuff" in there just case the need arises. The contents were a lot more entertaining when I had small children and carried what I called "a mom purse." That held all kinds of games, food and miscellaneous paraphernalia necessary for a mom on the go. 

Much more interesting than what's in my bag is the bag itself. As usual, it comes with a story. Two years ago I spent several weeks in the summer with my niece in Europe. She and her husband lived in Germany, where he was stationed with the Air Force. At the time of my visit, her husband was deployed to Iraq, so she and I had the whole visit to do whatever we wanted. One of our mini-trips was to Bruges, Belgium where we spent three days touring and shopping. (I wrote about our moving tour of WWI batterfields and memorial cemeteries in this previous post.) The shopping in Bruges was fantastic, with many unique stores and boutiques, not just the usual brands you see wherever you travel in the world. While walking back to our hotel one afternoon, I spied a purse in a store window and knew I had to have it, no matter the price. Fortunately it turned out to be very reasonable for an all leather purse. It's called the Tulip and designed by Linde Van der Poel under the company name by-Lin. Her designs are sold in several stores in The Netherlands, Belgium and Germany and, at the time I bought the purse, she was planning expansion to England and the U.S.  All of her designs are inspired by nature -- flowers, leaves and the like -- and are unique and very eye-catching. 

The Tulip is her signature piece and is referenced throughout her collection. I have it in red leather. The purse is what it sounds like, a large tulip. The top is operated by a leather drawstring so, as you open the purse, the petals unfold and one can easily access everything in the bag. 

It will actually open even wider than shown in the photograph, almost to the point where it lies flat. Isn't it fabulous? 

When I got home from the trip I couldn't wait to unpack my fabulous bag and start carrying it around. I just knew everyone would think it was as fabulous as I did. And you know what? They did. Everywhere I went people asked, "Where did you get that fabulous bag?" and I would tell the story. Men would stop me in the mall to ask where they could get one like it for their wives. I would be on my way into a restaurant and someone would yell at me from across the street, "Great purse!" Friends and relatives wanted me to get my niece to go back to Bruges, buy bags for them and ship them here. You know, fabulous-ness wears thin after a little while. I started wanting to be anonymous again, to blend in with the crowd. I found myself tucking the tulip bag under my coat, trying to hide how fabulous it really was, until the point came where I just switched bags. Yes, I put the fabulous Tulip bag in the closet where I alone could admire it and went back to only being noticed when I really wanted to be. But now I am thinking it is time to bring it out again. I think I'm strong enough to bear the responsibility. 

When you have the time, go to by-Lin's website via this link. This designer really does have some beautiful, creative items in her collection. And if you think you can handle it, order one for yourself and experience being fabulous first hand. I suspect most of you already are.

Thanks for stopping by. 

Challenge - Day 10: "Close-up"

"Mr. Demille, I'm ready for my close-up," "up close and personal," "close-in," "Close to You," "closed for rennovations," I'm struggling with this topic; it was much more appropriate for a photo challenge than one for writing. 

When thinking about a close-up photograph, my immediate reaction is to pull back,  "No, not too close." Not close enough to see my flaws and imperfections. Not too close, or you might see some of the real me. We harbor the illusion that we can control what people see about us, that they see only what we want them to see. I do believe that, to some extent, this is true. It's part of my personality makeup. I see "knowing me" like a hand of cards. I hold all the cards and play them, one at a time, when I'm ready to reveal. Other people view this situation completely differently. They lay all their cards on the table and let you see everything about them, all at once. "You either take it or leave it, but this is who I am." Of course there a varying degrees in between, but most people tend overall to be one way or the other. 

The problems come when I encounter someone who is able to read my cards before I am ready to reveal them. It can be a very disarming experience because I have to admit (1) this person is more perceptive than I gave them credit for and (2) maybe I'm not as "in control" as I think I am. 

I worked for a company once that used an assessment tool called The Johari Window as a team-building exercise. It was facilitated by a professional, which was important, and everyone had to agree to only use positive input because the negative had huge potential for harm. There were four "panes" of the window: Public Self - things known to me and others; Private Self - things known to me only; Hidden Self - things known to others that I don't know or that I think others don't know and Unknown Self - things no one knows. The exercise was done in a small group, about six, made up of people who were already close and had worked together a number of years. As a group, we completed the window for each person and I kept my window for a long, long time. I remember sitting back in my chair and almost holding my breath as my friends listed things in my "Hidden Self" pane. How did they know these things about me? I had never told anyone so they weren't supposed to know. 

One person in particular said something that made my mouth hang open, metaphorically, although I'm not completely sure it wasn't literally, too. He said, "You don't always let your candle of intellegence burn at full brightness. You hold back, never playing dumb, but playing not as smart as you really are sometimes to keep from intimidating people, particularly men." Now you have to remember that this was in the 80's and women were still fighting a hard battle for acceptance in the workplace. We had to learn all types of ways to succeed without "rubbing it in the faces" of our male counterparts. If you were tough and competent, you were a "viscous power-hungry bitch." On one occasion a male coworker actually said to me, "You know what your problem is? You're too smart." Let's just say that I and the other strong women I worked with, learned to walk a tightrope; sometimes we danced on it, too.

So for someone, a man even, to burst my bubble of self-illusion that easily was eye-opening to me. It actually became very liberating. In my mind it was now "out of the bag," so what the heck.  I had never "dimmed down" on personal work, that had gotten me where I was, but from then on I didn't worry much about "being nice" to male coworkers when I had ideas better than theirs. Oh, and the guy who burst my bubble? Five years later we got married. Guess he did know me pretty well.

Thanks for stopping by today; see you tomorrow. 

Challenge - Day 9: "Where You Sleep"

It has been quite a day for me and my head is buzzing with thoughts about the past and plans for some serious writing on my novel. I received (and answered) a long email today from my former journalism teacher, about whom I wrote in a post last month when I reconnected with my best friend from high school. My friend and I have been texting back and forth all afternoon, working on getting me off my ass and motivated to finish my novel. In the middle of all of that, I baked a pina colada pie and a huge chicken and biscuits casserole for my husband's poker game tonight. My body is tired, but my mind is firing on all cylinders. Now let's see if I can switch gears and get to today's topic of my self-imposed writing challenge. 

I dearly love where I sleep. It is my favorite place in the house. I spend a lot of my time there. It's where I read most of the time, watch television and surf the web/ check email/ browse Facebook, etc. on my iPad. I share this space with my husband and two dogs. Maybe I should more correctly state that my dogs share this sleeping space with my husband and me . . . if they have to . . . reluctantly. But most often the dogs and I share the bed in the evenings, with my husband coming in at 10:00pm to watch "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart" followed by "The Colbert Report." My husband usually has to revert to trickery to claim his space, but that's a whole post in and of itself.

For years I have been a bed linens junkie. I have silk sheets, high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, bamboo fiber sheets, flannel sheets, "Raining Cats and Dogs" print sheets. You name it, I probably have it sheets. But my most recent find and now new favorite sheets are made by Eucalyptus Origins and sold at Bed, Bath and Beyond. The sheets are made of a fabric called Tencel which is produced from the wood pulp of eucalyptus trees. Now I realize that, once again, I have probably fallen for someone's brilliant marketing scheme for using the byproducts of paper-making, but I don't really care. I love these sheets and have already bought a second set. The fabric is strong and smooth without being too heavy and has that all-important "feels great on my skin" factor. They have a moisture control capability that is essential for, let us say, menopausal women. So far they have not pilled up when washed (I hate that) and come out of the dryer looking perfect and wrinkle-free. Not that I would even think of ironing a sheet, but the idea of wrinkle-free makes me happy. The sheets stay cool and are deep enough to cover our mattress with memory-foam topper without slipping off. This is important, too. I hate it when I have to re-stretch the fitted sheet over the corners every morning. I find myself longing for the feel of the sheets whenever I pass by the bed during the day, wishing I could climb in for just a few minutes . . . often I do. 

Years ago when I was in Scotland with my sisters and Maureen, we stayed at a hotel that had a long advertising flyer (about 8 inches by 20 inches) on each bed. It said something like, "We guarantee you the best night you've ever had in this bed or your money back." I saved it then because I thought it would be great fun for a single woman (me) to frame it and hang it above her bed. Somehow I never got around to doing that, but I still have the sign and have been thinking that I might use it now. That's how much I love where I sleep. 

Thanks for stopping by. Gotta' go now. My head is still buzzing.  
 

Challenge - Day 8: "Daily Routine"

This has to be the most boring topic on the list -- my daily routine. Just a few days ago I was talking to one of my friends about how I stay busy most all day but, at the end of the day, cannot tell you what I achieved. We were discussing the transition from the workplace to being "mostly retired." At least when I had a salaried job I could tick off a list of accomplishments at the end of the day. Now it seems my life is more of a process, with no distinctive goal in sight other than to keep living and not have knee surgery. (My knees are not "bad" and I hope to keep them strong. It seems like the majority of the people I know end up having knee surgery, so this is a worthy goal.)

I do have some things I do routinely. The fourth Monday afternoon and the first Friday afternoon of each month I volunteer at the Visitor Center. That's always entertaining because of the never-ending variety of questions we get asked, both in person and by phone. I once had a woman from New York call, wanting to know how she could get in touch with whoever collected the garbage from roadside parks in Texas. She had been in Texas on a motorcycle tour the week before and thought she had left her cell phone at a roadside overlook somewhere near our little town and wanted to recover it. She was very aggressive (New York, remember?) and more than a little upset with me when I didn't offer much hope for her quest. Exasperated, I finally said, "Lady, you need to buy a new cell phone," and hung up. Sometimes you just have to hit people over the head with a 2 x 4. My monthly routine also includes Mexican Train dominoes (second Thursday) and Mahjong (any Wednesday we can get it together,) but I don't have many tasks I do on a daily basis, other than feed the dogs. That task takes precedence and they will remind me enthusiastically if I'm running late. 

For a little more than a year now, my husband and I try, at least twice a week, more if possible, to go to the San Marcos Activity Center and work out in the pool there. Neither of us are strong swimmers, so we power walk in the pool. I also do a series of exercises using aqua bell hand weights to tone my arms and upper body, wall stretches and squats and sets of leg work using a kick board. Scott simply walks the pool as fast as he can. Some of you may remember I wrote about how I think that, at this point in life, I can forget math and algebra, mostly because my husband is a math genius. (Read about this here if you are interested.) He has calculated the length of the pool and estimates that 37 laps make up one mile. While he powers away, walking as many laps as he can, usually about 55, my routine is this: (1) arm exercises (2) ten walking laps, with two of them sideways and two backwards (3) wall stretches and squats (4) ten more laps (5) straight kicks and frog kicks with the board and (6) ten more laps. The whole thing takes exactly one hour; it seems much longer. Seriously, I do enjoy the workout. I feel great afterwards and can tell it has significantly improved my stamina and muscle tone, not to mention burning calories. Combined with yoga and occasional bike riding, it is the sum of my physical exercise. I made a proclamation when we started the aqua workout that I was not doing any more excercise that hurt. No more running, Jazzercise or Zumba. So far, so good. My fitness hasn't suffered and my knees and joints are ever so grateful.

So there you have it -- routinely boring but happy and fulfilling. I have no complaints, or at least none right now. Check back later, I'm sure that status will change. 

Thanks for stopping by today. 
 

Challenge - Day 7 : "Your Sky"

Looking out the window of the airplane as we cruised toward the east coast, it seemed as if I were gazing at a vast arctic landscape. The tops of the clouds formed a continuous sheet of ice, thinner in places, broken by a few bits of blue ocean. The tops of puffy, cumulus clouds were the mountains, rising here and there in the landscape. As my mind wandered, I imagined intrepid voyagers, wrapped in furs, with teams of sled dogs pulling them to safety. As the sun continued to sink in the west, the "mountains" showed shades of red and pink in the ending day until, at last, it was just darkness across the ice and tundra, with me, the lone observer, continuing east in my twinkling ship.

I hastily scribbled this passage down on hotel note paper one evening after we had flown to Tampa, Florida to embark on a cruise. It's not "my sky" today, but it was lovely on the day it was.

Thanks for stopping by today.  

Challenge - Day 6: "Favorite"

With the recent news about the discovery of Richard III's skeleton under a parking lot in England, I have been reminded of one of my favorite favorites. Katherine, by Anya Seton, is one of my lifetime favorite books. It is a historical fiction/romance novel about the love affair between John of Gaunt, Prince of England and head of the House of Lancaster and Katherine de Roet Swynford, daughter of a knight in service to Gaunt's mother, Queen Philippa (wife of Edward III.) Their relationship lasted many years, throughout his first two marriages and into their own marriage, making her his third wife. A decendant of one of their children (surnamed Beaufort) was Henry Tudor, who eventually challenged and defeated Richard III on Bosworth's Field and became Henry VII, the first Tudor king. 

I will admit that there is something of the heaving bosom/throbbing member genre in Katherine, but the history is correct and the author does a good job drawing you into the story and making you cheer for the heroine. It is a little bit of a guilty pleasure book, one that I have indulged in many times. 

I think what I like most about the book is that the love of the story is shared closely in my circle of friends and family. The paperback copy I am looking at right now is inscribed inside the cover "December 25, 1972, to Annette from Iris." That's my oldest sister. In 1972, I would have been fifteen years old. Both my sisters, my nieces and my dearest friend, Maureen, have read and loved this story.  

 In the early 1990's, my two sisters, Maureen and I went to Europe for a tour of Great Britain, Ireland and Scotland. We had the first day free for touring in London and our list of "must sees" was long. High on the list was a visit to St. Paul's to see the tomb of John of Gaunt. Finding the tomb was, in itself, an adventure. He was buried in Old St. Paul's, which was destroyed in the Great Fire of London. Currently there is a memorial plaque/wall in the basement of the new St. Paul's honoring those who were buried in the old cathedral. When we got to the basement, we found the target area roped off and draped for construction repairs. Our disappointment must have been expressed loudly, because a very polite security volunteer arrived and asked if he could assist us. We told him our story; he smiled and escorted us behind the curtain to see and photograph the memorial. My guess is that we were not the first group of women coming to St. Paul's to swoon over John of Gaunt. 

 

I haven't found the photo of the tomb, but this one is of the four of us outside Buckingham Palace on the same day. What a happy day, a happy memory and another great story.

Thanks for stopping by today; see you tomorrow.        

Challenge - Day 5: "Makes You Smile"

Par-a-dox; noun; (1) a tenet contrary to received opinion; (2) a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense and yet is perhaps true; a self-contradictory statement that at first seems true; an argument that apparently derives self-contradictory conclusions by valid deductions from acceptable premises.

Statement I made to myself during mid-January: "I have the time and really should get back to writing. I know I waste time every day that could be spent working on my blog or novel."

Statement written on blog February 5: This is the first time I have had today to sit down and write (7:13pm.) But I am here and will complete today's task. (I did miss yesterday, though; I had a stomach bug of some sort and no will to write.)

I am looking at a framed photo that makes me smile every day. The frame makes me smile. I saw it in a local store while shopping with a friend and it ended up a surprise under my Christmas tree. The surface is mosaic, made up of small red glass tiles. It sparkles in the sunlight on the table next to my reading chair. Red and sparkly -- what more could I ask? 

The photo in the frame makes me smile. Just a snapshot, taken on a picnic during a family outing on the Texas State Railroad. The little boy is wearing blue and white striped overalls with train appliques on the bib and pockets. He is two years old and loves trains so this day is one he won't forget. His smile is big; wrinkling his bright blue eyes and producing dimples on his cheeks. Just a quick snapshot. Who knew it would become so poignant? 

   

Poignant; adjective; (1) painfully affecting the feelings: piercing; (2) deeply affecting; touching; designed to make an impression.

I look at the photo every day and smile. Then I feel the stab in my heart and inhale sharply. Some days I hold the breath and let it go slowly, nod my head. Other days I cry. 

Thanks for stopping by today; I'll try to do better tomorrow.