Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts

Sunday, January 5, 2020

Aaaaayyyyyyy It's a New Year!


Happy New Year!

We survived another holiday season.  Fancy foods have been consumed and subsequently purged from the fridge while the purgee made heart felt promises of NEVER eating half a ham ever again

Gifts have been wrapped, opened, admired and put away while pondering the thought process that brought the giver to think the box of plastic hockey guys would truly be loved by the 61 year old recipient.
the face off
a skirmish resulting in the Yellow Guys goal
and the inevitable fight which broke out after that controversial goal

Loved ones near and far have been hugged and made to promise to visit more often, all the while hoping that the ukulele concerto will truly become a real thing.  
Resolutions have been made. Goals have been set, which is really just a kinder, gentler way to say resolutions.

And now it’s January 5th. And if I don’t get this post up by Tuesday, I will have blown my goals for 2020, one of which is to post here once a week. And being as Jan 7 – which technically is a week from Jan 1 – is Tuesday, I figure I am still good….

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am not great with goal setting.  I don’t like putting them out into the world as I seem to take that as a challenge to see just how quickly I can screw it up. But, as the holiday season one horse open sleighed right over me, I decided it was time to change it up.

Truthfully, I prefer the option of picking a word to represent your plan for the new year. I toyed around with ‘reset’ and ‘reconnect’ but finally – This Morning – settled on Time Out.
Not the sit in the corner and think about what you did Time Out, but more of a last 20 seconds of a football game, there’s no way they can win but maybe if they run the clock out there could be a miracle Time Out.

I can’t quite figure out why I don’t seem to have any free time these days. Time where I don’t HAVE to do anything. Or, more honestly, have time to do the things I really enjoy doing.

I blame my upbringing.

I grew up in a house where you did your chores before doing fun activities. Those activities became the prize for dusting that stupid dining room table with the giant carved legs and cross pieces requiring me to crawl under it and then crack my head as I crawled back out – all the time hoping I hadn’t passed out and missed Johnny Quest.
This philosophy was reinforced by my 5th grade teacher, who noted on my report card that ‘Laura does not use her time wisely’. Apparently, completing my homework and then quietly reading a much more enjoyable book at my desk was not satisfactory. It only reinforced my believe that I needed to always be productive, although at this writing I suddenly realized that perhaps it was more of an insult to her worksheet producing abilities. And now I am picturing her tiny, support hose wearing body hunched over a desk, late into the night, trying to create the ultimate mimeograph sheet of questions set to finally, at last, stump that little Schloz girl…

It isn’t easy to break those habits reinforced nearly daily.

(Don’t get me wrong, my childhood was not a coal mine of constant household chores. I had plenty of time for Barbies and imaginary adventures and getting trapped in trees. And 5th grade was, in reality, pretty fun, except for this teacher’s penchant for spraying the room down with Lysol daily and discussing her varicose veins.)

And that philosophy has served me well throughout my adult life. I have run a tight ship around the house, and I hope, impressed my managers with my great work ethic.

But I have a terrible time doing fun things when I know there is another load of laundry crawling up the wall, or a fine layer of protective dust on the furniture.              
So, to that end, I have made my Word of 2020 – Time Out.

(Fine, it’s two words. Just me, overachieving again.)

And to manage making this a year of Time Out, I needed to set some goals.
Goals such as ‘reading for enjoyment every day’ and the afore mentioned blogging goal.

But the biggest is to just allow myself some TIME.
And it hasn’t been easy.

Into the new year by 5 days, I have managed to read a little each day, however, it took every fiber of my being to stop taking down the Christmas decorations to take a ride up the river for some music and a glass of wine.
a cold day on the Mississippi. the barge is parked. taking a Time Out!

Bluffs along the river road
sunset at the confluence of the Mississippi and the Illinois
And at the end of the day, as I was making pancakes from scratch with the odds and ends of dairy and non-dairy products I had in the fridge as I have yet to grocery shop this weekend, I had to agree, those hours were truly Time well spent.

So I will again wish you a Happy New Year from the Coast of Illinois.
May your New Year be as productive as you need and as fun and exciting as you want!
me and the Bronze Fonze
(while the above pic was from a quick before Christmas wedding trip in Milwaukee, I had to include it because....Aaaaaayyyyyy,,,, it's the Fonze!)

See you next week!!

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Flamingos and Light Hats

Wow.
Is it really January 22?
I swear I have not seen the sun in 21 days. I was just about to go on Amazon and search for 'stylish light hat'. 
except for the lack of ice, this bleakness truly belongs to January
It has been such a dreary January, I was actually sort of looking forward to the ICE STORM of the CENTURY which was predicted for our area last weekend. Even that was a thankful disappointment, leaving only a treacherous coating of ice on the deck which I walk across every morning in my robe and snow boots to feed the birds. I make quite a picture on a good day, but add in the slipping and flailing and well, good thing Rob doesn't have a good camera on his phone... Today a pale yellow sun actually shined down for approximately four hours and it was warm enough that, wrapped in a sweater, I ate my lunch on the deck while JoeyKatt monitored the perimeter for stray chickadees.
What a welcome change.
Which is how the New Year always hits me.
Fresh, clean and ripe for change.

I was hoping to make my Word of the Year 'fulfillment'.
As in, fulfilling those things I keep saying I want to do: write daily, exercise daily, lose fifteen pounds, read more...
But the Universe put a great big International Symbol for NO on that plan by hitting me with several weird, random nearly anaphylactic episodes.
This has resulted in the realization that I am a terrible patient. Even though I have spent over half my life as a nurse, I have been depressed, tearful, angry, obstinate, pissy, anxious and did I mention pissy?

Today has been a good day. Thanks to the sunshine, breakfast with the family, enough anti-histamine to send a meth-head to Walter White Mountain.
I have been doing yoga nearly every day. And if you count writing in my food log, that writing thing is back on track...

I have so many things to bring back to the Coast of Illinois – more of the Keys, a new 'floating' project, some interesting books – I think my new Word of the Year will be:
Hopeful

I am hopeful that I will get back on track with the writing.
I am hopeful that, thanks to the evil diet I am following to prevent more Stay-Puft episodes, I will lose that last 15 pounds before this summer's vacation.
I am hopeful that the two story pile of books on my desk will decrease before that poor bottom book becomes nothing more than a crushed piece of cardboard.
And after watching the streets of St. Louis, Chicago, New York, The World, fill with women and men of all colors and creeds to peacefully bring attention to the need to protect women's/everyone's rights, I am hopeful that we, as Americans, can come together to facilitate change in a peaceful productive manner.

Happy New Year
from
The Coast of Illinois
Harvey would like you to know that is actual greenery sprouting behind him. Not some terrible end product of a distressing GI illness.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Gilda, Gellhorn and Me

In the word association game that has become my A-Z challenge go to, when I got to 'G' my mind went immediately to Gilda Radner.

And then it went to Guidance Counselor.

And WHY didn't MY Guidance Counselor tell me about jobs in Comedienne?

Or New York Single Gal who Writes and Looks Fabulous?

Shoot.

He didn't even suggest Barrista. Although to be fair, I am not sure those existed back in the mid-70's. At least not in the Midwest.



All I wanted was to be a world-traveling, adventure journalist. 
As I recall, my guidance counselor didn't suggest much of anything past college prep. I still have the distinct impression that this guy felt the best he could achieve with me was a solid two years of state college followed by marriage to a middle class, employed guy who would relocate to a different school district so he, the counselor, wouldn't have to deal with MY offspring and their ridiculous career goals.



Lucky for you, Mr. Davis, that I had not heard of Martha Gellhorn .

Ah Martha – writer, journalist, war correspondent, contemporary/colleague/lover of Hemingway. And all while looking awesomely 1940's chic. 

I didn't discover Martha Gellhorn or learn of her amazing life until recently. 

Had I had Gellhorn in my fantasy life all bets would have been off. She was the real deal and just the push my less than brave teen/twenty-something brain needed.

Actually, as I am writing this post, I have realized something. I actually am somewhat of an adventurer. I do write. And I married a guy with a mustache...not unlike Hemingway's.
Plus, I look fabulous in a trench coat.

Well played, Guidance Counselor. Well played.

(Me, pre Gelhorn, circa 1986, in Grindlewald Switzerland. The beginning of my true adventures.)

To learn more about Gellhorn (from St. Louis!) click here:
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martha_Gellhorn