Our soon-to-be new house in The Villages has a very large, very old, live oak tree in the front yard. I saw this as a good omen.
I have always loved live oaks, ever since I heard Don Williams sing "I can still hear the soft southern wind in the live oak trees". It is one reason I love our current house - when I heard the salesman say the lot we were considering was on "Live Oak Terrace" I was hooked. And after 12+ years the newly planted live oaks that line the streets of our community have grown tall and beautiful.
Hubby has always envisioned (humorously) living in a house with a name, something on the order of "Stately Gold Manor" or some other lofty affectation. I suggested "Ancient Oak" for the new house.
I hope to continue to hear that soft southern wind for a long, long time...
;-)
My mantra, my credo, my guiding principle used to be "use it up, wear it out, make do or do without". I didn't always adhere completely to it, I must confess, and through the years I can count many "frivolous" purchases and many, many mistakes in consumerism. But basically I strived for frugality and many times I would forgo a purchase in the name of righteous thrift. I tried to use whatever I had on hand no matter if it was old, worn, ugly or that I basically hated it.
Recently, Facebook friend Gil sent an email with pictures of the Great Depression, a reminder it was a mere 80 years ago and an admonishment to adhere to my old adage "use it up, wear it out, make do or do without". Well, I have a different take on my old tenet these days: if I hate it, out it goes. The world is filled with wonderful stuff that will delight me, make my life easier and best of all, that I can afford.
Case in point: as I pulled down our quality Samsonite luggage - only about 7 years old and purchased from a top department store - from the high shelves in our closet, I realized They Weigh A Ton, even empty. Designed for a time not so long ago when airlines did not give luggage weight limits, they were obsolete. So I hi-tailed it to the Festival Market where I found a super large suitcase that weighs only 5 pounds. After buying the Samsonite I had figured we'd never buy luggage again but see, I was wrong. I refuse to be one of those old folks who do not move forward with the times!
;-)
After three months of super hectic activity and hard work and stress, I'm looking forward to spending six weeks in a rented villa in The Villages getting used to my new life and taking it easy. Making new friends, getting active in Temple Shalom, learning my way around and lining up a doctor are tops on my list. But just to make sure I'm not bored for a single second, I once again checked out the almost endless list of Villages clubs and activities and circled a few to try out.
Mah-jongg (that's how they spell it), Basic or Basic Beginner of course
Mystery Book Lovers
Chicagoland and Chicagoland Ladies
The Borscht Belt Club
Bone Builders Exercise
Springdale (that's our Village) East and Springdale West Clubs (must find out which I am)
Royal Oak (I think that's me too) Social Club
Can't wait!
;-)
I'm saying goodbye to some old friends in the next couple of weeks, part of the moving-on process of moving to The Villages. It's amazing that I met all of them during the short three years I worked at Broward County, before my old boss recruited me to work for him in Hollywood.
Today I'm meeting Anne for lunch and tomorrow is lunch with Marj and Julie. There's Donna and Leonid and John too, longtime friends from almost 17 years ago. And I'm super excited about Stu's upcoming colloquial in Atlanta in November when we'll spend a night or two with Jennifer and Eddie at their Del Webb home. Then when Stu's working, Jen and I will spend quality girl time - her Del Webb home will only be an hour from his hotel. And old County co-workers June and Kay - now Villages residents - have been great about encouraging us and answering our questions.
Friday night is my Dad's yartzeit and the Temple called and asked me to light the candles. A perfect goodbye to the special place that came to mean so much to me the last three years.
Sometimes I get so excited about whatever is happening to me now I forget - temporarily of course - my old friends. Not this week!
;-)
Cousin Jennifer posted a link to this great article from the Huffington Post. It sure had a grabber headline - "How to get flat abs, have amazing sex and rule the world in 8 easy steps". Hahaha, of course the author was kidding, just spoofing other similar titles in men's and women's magazines. But she went on to make some really useful suggestions and I am going to try to remember to do them all, every single day.
1. Stop believing your bullshit.
Like "I'm too old" or "I'm scared" or "I have no energy". Deep down I know any negative thoughts that may cross my mind are B.S. I can do anything I want! I truly believe that.
2. Be happy now.
I'm already on top of this one.
3. Look at the stars.
The author says "it helps you remember that you and your problems are both infinitesimally small and conversely, that you are a piece of an amazing and vast universe". I truly do this frequently - I love looking at the Moon Over Miami.
4. Let people in.
I have vowed to work on my people skills and make new friendships this year.
5. Stop with the crazy making.
A corollary to Number 1. I vow to not invent problems in my head.
6. Learn to apologize.
I'm already on top of this one.
7. Practice gratitude.
I'm already on top of this one.
8. Be kind.
A corollary to Number 4. I promise I will.
Yes, I agree, these are a hell of a lot more important than flat abs!
;-)
I have a fantasy for my new life in The Villages. I call it "Southern Living".
My new house seems to resonate with the gracious Southern vibes I associate with New Orleans, Nashville and Savannah (although I've never been to the latter). It is perfect for my modest collection of antiques and other things I love. I see myself cooking with Paula Deen or Paul Prudhomme at my side (or maybe even my friend John's two sisters), turning out delicious fried chicken, corn bread and greens. I see my new lifestyle - a slower pace but filled with more friends and genteel pursuits.
So gone are all the tchatchkes I bought that scream South Florida/Miami/Fort Lauderdale. I have drastically curtailed my flamingo collection and most things beach, fish or ocean themed. Central Florida is a different world.
When I get settled in I'll start up a subscription to Southern Living magazine...
Y'all come visit, ya hear?
;-)
My horrific cold is five days old today. Of course it came out of nowhere at the worst possible time. I am lethargic and my brain seems to be stuffed with cotton. I have been sleeping a lot, going to bed even earlier than my usual early bedtime. I am trying to get things done, but my energy level is at zero. The few times I got out of the house wiped me out. Luckily the packing for the move is pretty much under control. I have the "luxury" of resting up for a few days. Hopefully today will be the last day of feeling awful.
They say you can treat a cold and it will be gone in seven days or do nothing and it will be gone in a week.
:-(
After our wedding 44 years ago my mother hung my wedding dress on a hanger and folded it into an E.J. Korvette shopping bag. We tossed it into the trunk of our 1966 Pontiac Tempest which cousin Harvey had thoughtfully decorated with whipped cream and a "Just Married" sign. And there it remained in the Korvette bag for 44 years until this morning when I fearfully opened the bag to find what I had expected: the dress was beyond preservation.
Unbeknownst to me, Mom had also tossed in the prayer book which I had decorated myself and carried down the aisle with a few white flowers on top of it. Oh how carefully I had tied each white bow on three white streamers! How lovingly I covered the book - which Mom had also carried down the aisle at her own wedding - with a layer of satin and an overlay of lace, and sewed a dainty ruffle around the edges. I had wondered for years what happened to the book! Thankfully, it is in excellent condition.
So there is Joy as well as sadness in my heart this morning. Finding that treasure made parting with the unsalvageable dress much, much easier. I will not lose my precious prayer book again!
:-)
Breaking Bad's 3rd to the last episode was named "Ozymandias". It refers to a 200 year old poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley who was inspired by a centuries old poet who in turn wrote about a real person, Ramses the Great of the Exodus saga. The super quick Cliff Notes summary of the plot is that no matter who you are or how mighty you once were, time will erase your glory, fame and/or infamy.
A smart choice by the fantastically brilliant writers of Breaking Bad because the episode was all about Walt's fall from power and loss of family, friends and (ill gotten) wealth. Breaking Bad does indeed have Shakespearean/operatic/epic themes woven through it. How riveting are those stories that incorporate lust, power, greed, betrayal, revenge and fall from grace.
I am sure the Bard himself would be glued to Breaking Bad if he were here today!
;-)
PS Another thank you to my Dad who, although Ozymandias was not one of them, did read several other Percy Bysshe Shelley poems to me. "Hail to thee, blithe spirit!"
I decorated my first kitchen as a married woman in red-and-white This was quite a fashion statement because at the time everyone had either a yellow, orange or green kitchen or some combination of those citrus colors.
My kitchen was different. I had cute red-and-white checked curtains with big white ruffles and even red-and-white checked paper towels and a red-and-white plastic canister set. My BFF Sheryl helped me out by contributing a red apple cookie jar. Small accessories were hard to find but the old red bottle opener is still with me.
Guess what, red in the kitchen is trendy these days! And surprise surprise, my soon-to-be kitchen in The Villages has pretty red and gold window treatments in the eating area and its creamy vanilla cabinets and counters will go great with red. So I ordered a new red Keurig coffee maker (super deluxe) and I can't wait to see it in my new kitchen.
That, and of course, Sheryl's red apple cookie jar! Still love it after all these years...
;-)
Awhile back I wrote about the "40 bags in 40 days challenge", way before I suspected we might be moving. It's been a little over 40 days since I began the chore of examining every item in the house, deciding if it stays or goes, cleaning it if necessary and packing it. To aid in my effort I purchased a roll of 60 extra strength Hefty bags in the handy 30 gallon size. I ran out about a week ago and got another 25. I have about ten left so do the math, that's a lot of purging and doesn't count the weekly "bulk" pickups or the recycle can or the drop offs at Goodwill and the Broward County hazardous waste disposal site. I suspect I will use the remaining ten quite quickly as I am not yet done (but getting there!)
As promised by the aficionados of this challenge, it IS quite satisfying and actually fun (if you have a very loose definition of "fun"). It is also a trip down memory lane as I can identify the origin and providence of most objects. But other doodads are like "finds" from an archeologist's dig site - things that used to be useful to someone for something but I have no earthly idea what that could be.
It is also amazing to realize how much stuff we own and how little we really need to have immediately available. Some toiletries and vitamins and OTC drugs. A few pairs of jeans and t-shirts and shoes and one or two "nicer" outfits. The box with our personal files, passports and medical directives. The two laptops, desk computer, two iPads and our smartphones of course. A couple of personal items I don't exactly trust the movers with.
So I hereby vow to never again have 75 bags of stuff I no longer need, like or want. This is harder than it sounds because my motto has always been wear it out, use it up and consider if it will come in handy in the event of a nuclear holocaust. But I promise I WILL sweep every area in my new house at least once a year!
;-)
I hate Pity Parties. Those horrid events when you invite only yourself to bemoan your sorry state and whatever twist-of-fate is bothering you. I am the kind of gal who kicks herself in the butt, picks herself up, and carries on. I also vow to work harder, much harder, and redouble my efforts even if there is really nothing much I can do about whatever is depressing me at the moment and "working harder" will probably not accomplish a thing. I also update my spreadsheets and to-do lists, as if organization and direction and purpose will mitigate my sorry circumstances. Then I go out for ice cream.
I have a basic belief that anyone with even marginal skills and intelligence can make a good life in America. I believe you can regroup and start over if you have to. I believe there is someone for everyone and even if you can't find them right away you can still be happy being alone. I believe the world offers countless opportunities and one or two are bound to come your way eventually. Prolonged Pity Parties have no place in my belief system.
I allowed myself a brief Pity Party yesterday in the wake of some disappointing news. But I am relegating that less than stellar day to the trash heap and am awaiting better news and good fortune in the coming days.
;-)
It seemed like that event was eons away when I first heard the Beatles sing "When I'm 64" yet here it is. The year was 1967 and I was only 18. Yesterday I turned the much bally-hoo'd (and dreaded) 64.
I got at least 50 greetings from well wishers on Facebook and emails and cards and reaffirmation that there is a lot of love in my life. I looked in the mirror and on the scale and said to myself "not bad for an old lady" (although I'm aware delusion comes with advancing age). I balanced the household accounts and see we are still blessed with solvency (despite our recent commitments to changing our lifestyle). My old staffers took me out to lunch and the one who couldn't make it called.
My "If Today Is Your Birthday" horoscope: This year you are surprisingly lucky. You have the self discipline and instinct to move quickly when opportunity strikes. Woo Hoo!
Paul et al sang about some of the past-times of being 64 although admittedly they don't sound like too much fun. Knitting a sweater? Digging the weeds? Changing a fuse? I'm sure Paul (long past 64 now) has discovered being in one's sixties is infinitely more pleasurable than that!
;-)
I'll admit it, I'm a little worn out from four straight days of going through all our stuff, packing, sorting and mainly just throwing stuff out. I have 27 well filled boxes and a suitcase to my credit plus overflowing garbage and recycling containers. Luckily my neighbor has been letting me fill up her can as well on garbage days.
I find physical work rewarding in a strange illogical way. I tend to lose my appetite and drop perhaps a pound or two. My mani is ruined of course but I beam at my accomplishments. A short ride in the car or a trip to D'Lites has seemed like a mini vacation.
Am I seeing the light at the end of the tunnel? No, not yet. There's still too much to do and too many untapped recesses of the bathroom cabinets and garage. I need a ton more boxes (promised as free incentives to sign with a major moving company) and I need the 8 rolls of packing tape coming Friday from suppliesformoving.com. I have Ward coming today for my third and final estimate for moving/storage/moving.
As I used to say in the 70s - Keep On Trucking!
;-)
Our soon-to-be new house in The Villages has a very large, very old, live oak tree in the front yard. I saw this as a good omen.
