waiting for the moment...

Christmas comes when it will for me. I can look at the calendar and see when it's scheduled, but that doesn't mean it will come--or when, if it comes at all. Because it's a spirit, you know. It's a soft and subtle feeling that wraps itself around your heart like a soft blanket of happiness.

Some years it waits until the last possible moment--like the year I worked at EIBrown and was still putting together an architectural proposal at midnight on Christmas Eve. Driving home later, with sputtering snowflakes falling and great tape loops of Christmas music to counteract the stillness, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had so much to be thankful for. So much to celebrate. So much merriment in my heart.

Still do. 

kind eyes

The nicest thing happened to me a few days ago. A dear old friend from my first job out of college said, upon seeing my current photo (the one attached to this blog), that I looked just like I did when we were wee young things at WXLW. I believe it was 1970. 

Now flattered as I am, the truth is your friends--real, true, life-long buddies and pals--tend to look at you with love rather than through the ruthless eyes of strangers. And bless them for it!

So, thank you Ronn. You made my day. And you made me grateful to live in a time and place where lovely women and gallant gentlemen still warm hearts with grace and kindness. 

Christmas came early this year.

GOOD GUYS WIN! GOOD GUYS WIN!

November is a gentler month that its predecessor. So far, it's given us a president-elect with a head and a heart-a lovely combination.

And it gave me a beautiful clean bill of health. The results of the PT scan are conclusive and negative. Sure, we're watching "that spot," but the next CT scan is a year away. 

A couple of days on a cruise ship followed the non-diagnosis and that was good, too. 

Right now, it's all good. 

...of course, it won't last, but for the moment, all's right with my little world. 

Thank God.

April is the Cruelest Month, but October? Sheeesh!

A funny thing happened on the way from September to November. We stumbled into October and with it a near-cataclysmic brush will ill health and financial ruin --not necessarily in that order. First off,  I dealt with an hysterical nurse-practitioner who sent me off for a precautionary CT scan to make sure I didn't have a pulmonary embolism. 

This resulted in a terrifying assessment of my scarred lungs which upped the hysteria quotient and led to even more CT scans. Words like "lung cancer" were whispered. Every scan was accompanied by the dreaded pink "STAT" paper than meant my scans went right to the top of the pile for interpretation. After all, death was imminent. 

And then, finally, I saw a specialist who actually knew what lung cancer looked like, and he said, "no." I don't have it. Never had it. And with any luck, won't get it. I have scars from 15-round bouts with heavyweight pneumonia and a passing exposure to a bit of TB, but that's it.  Oh there's a wonky lymph node in there, too, but I feel as if the danger is past.  Whew. Life restored. Carry on.

Then we have the economic difficulties visited upon me by corporate America. They/it/he are reducing my hours to 30 a week--enough to keep my insurance. Thank God. You never know when hysteria may send the medical community looking into my gizzard or phlanges or something, after all. 

It goes without saying that a 25% cut in income accompanies the cut in hours. Which is, of course, both blessing and curse. The freedom to write and the challenge of the blank screen hold hands and dance around me. The need to generate revenue makes me think I need to freelance. And the little house by the little lake calls to me, "come wade the shore, sit on the porch, listen to the silence and the breeze in the palms." 

Life is a topsy-turvy adventure. Especially in October.

the Eve of Vacation

All rants and tangents, all fusses and fumes are put aside. Today is magical. It is the eve of vacation, the day before the ship sails, the last day in the office. Already the ship's horn is blowing announcing our departure. I can see the last few frantic preparations underway. Bags are already in the stateroom, waiting for the adventure to begin. 

If you can recall the feverish anticipation of a Christmas morning from your childhood, let me share another perfect moment with you. It's like this...

You wake up to sunshine streaming in your cabin window. You dress quickly and go up top where gentlemen in crisp white uniforms are filling steam tables with breakfast. You pour a cup of fresh coffee and step out onto the deck, carrying your mug to the rail. You watch the ship's frothy wake painting a turquoise stripe across a quiet ocean. And then, it dawns on you. Here is a day..no, a week...that is all your own. Freed from obligations and duties, you have no one to answer to and nothing to do. An empty list. Best of all, the next six days stretch out before you like an empty canvas, ready to be filled with whatever takes your fancy. It's almost paralyzing this freedom, filled as it is with unlimited possibilities and unrealized potential. 

I'm already there. I just wish you could come too.

"...no politics today, thank you."

With the Midwest Diva giving it to them with steam today, I shall refrain. It almost seems like too much when we gang up on them. LOL. 

Instead, today is the day of a blood glucose reading at 110--virtually normal. Coupled with another 3# loss, I again sing the praises of Medifast! This diet has been a Godsend for me. I give myself credit for following the program so relentlessly, of course, but the real hero is Medifast. 

Thanks for the encouragement from friends and family, too. 

Woo. Hoo. 

And now, you may return to pacing, panicking and praying to that gentle God who gave us brains to think for ourselves.

Teri 

you don't suppose....??

Okay, I admit. i am starting to worry. Seems like the ignoble opposition is gaining way too many headlines with their "pull the string and she talks" Northwoods Barbie. Could anyone other than right-wing nuts, mindless Christian sheep and complete morons be taking her candidacy seriously? Might all this press translate into v..v...votes? 

I always like to think the best about the American public--being one myself and all---but this is the same population that elected "dubya"--twice!  I fear the same group will bleat their way to the polls again and pull the same lever. This time, 'cause McCain reminds 'em of Gramps (may he rest in peace) and Barbie is just really cute and really spunky!  "ha ha ha pitbull with lipstick ha ha ha. ain't she sumpin'?" She's something all right. And it frightens me. Literally. 

Please encourage everyone to register. Especially the young, the idealistic and the thinkers. Really. Short of some other huge skeletons rattling around in her closet, it's our only hope.

Mr. McCain, I Am Not Laughing

North Pole Barbie (thank you, Midwest Diva!) is not making friends among the smart women I know and respect. She is perceived as a big, loud not very funny joke--at our expense. Who really believes that "if you put a skirt on it," the other moms will vote for it? Certainly not the quick-thinking, hard-working women I know.

So the sound-bite pitbull-with-lipstick's message* falls upon deaf ears around here. What about an agenda for women? What about equal rights and equal pay? What about insuring our children? Protecting their environment and their water? What about their education? And what about peace in the world so they don't have to be cannon fodder should another Bush come to power?  Oh, but wait. I forgot. There is another Bush running right now. John McCain, veteran and loyal American servant of the people, you should be ashamed.

*was there a message, by the way? 

Gun Advocates Should Be Careful--They Might Shoot Themselves in the Foot

Not five minutes ago, John McCain picked up a running mate and, in effect, blew away his chances at the presidency. So say I. Sarah Palin may be the sweetest little mother of 5 in all of Alaska, but leader of the free world?? Nothankyouverymuch. 

With the selection of a heavy like Joe Biden, Barack Obama secured my vote and our future. 

Long live Obama. Long live the USA.

Geez, ol' man, what were you thinking??!?!

facing fats

So the cardiologist(who is a theatrical brute if ever there was one) puts his pointy finger in my face and says, "I have two words for you: Jenny Craig." While I have personally never known a soul who lost even an ounce on Jenny, he seems to believe in it. I do not, so I "switch pitched" him with the idea of Medifast. He agreed. And here I am today, 5# lighter, one week later, with the lowest blood sugar readings in the last ...oh ...4 or 5 years. I could not be happier. I actually have energy now that the swirling sugars are actually getting into some cells.  Alas, they're not up to the brain cells yet, but...

So I know you are all asking, "yeah but, how's it taste??!?" My answer is 'good.' I opted for the 5+1 plan (the most radical) which allows me 5 (count 'em) Medifast meals + one meat and veggie meal each day. I actually managed to get all 5+1 consumed in one day once! It's a lot of ingesting. Now, to be fair, a Medifast "meal" is about a cup of their hot cocoa, soup, shake or pudding.  But honestly, it is enough. And when you sit down at night to your meager portion of salad, cauliflower and protein, it is heavenly! Excited about a grilled chicken breast?? Oh you bet I am! 

So at the risk of boring you silly, I will update you from time to time on my progress. And if you want to know more, it's www.medifastdiet.com.

Better go. Storm's a-brewin'  (hey, it's summer in Florida. Storms are always a-brewin')

Love you all,

Teri

6 Women WHo Matter a Lot to Me

I am fortunate to have close friendships with 6 remarkable women. Let me tell you about them.

Let me start with Ms. Diva who has more style than anyone I know, and remarkably, also more substance than most. I find her inspirational. And extraordinarily talented. And beautiful. And witty as hell. 

Next, there is yet-another-Terri. This one is seldom seen and rarely heard from, but let Don Henley sing about Ray-bans or suntans and she comes to mind, smiling and fascinating.  This one is independent and her heart is enormous. If we manage to save this planet, credit goes to her. I miss her. 

Next up, thing one and thing two--my first and last born. Remarkable women. One as mercurial as she can be, and as bright as sunshine. The other cool like moonlight and steady as the tide. If I ever did anything right, it was with these two who continue to light up my world--day and night.

Then there is another M. One of the funniest women I ever met. A thinker, but impatient enough to charge into anything, eyes wide open, ready to see what happens. I hope she's still stirring things up. She does it so well. I admire her life force and her vast human energy. 

And last, but by no means least, there is D. She lives across the village square in a tall house with ample porches, but it could be a plantation house or a Tudor. The point is it has to be a romantic dwelling with flowers in bloom outside or a tall fir decorated with Christmas lights in a leaded window.  Inside there is a piano, a pot of tea, lacy curtains and lots and lots of books. Don't be fooled however. This is no wimp. She is a strong, brave, adventurer with the heart of a lion and the gentle demeanor of a lamb. Classy as they come--and soulful as the Blues.

I love you, gals. Even if I don't say it nearly often enough.

because she wanted me to

the Midwest Diva put me up to this, so if you don't like it, kindly blame her. On the other hand, if you DO happen to like it, we'll share the credit. Fair enough?

Let's talk hurricanes. Once again, silly south Florida is beset by a killer storm. This one is named Fay--kind of a lightweight name if you ask me.  Fay, if she really gets roaring, could be a category 1 by morning. In the interim, however, she is a big, blowsy tropical storm filling up our aquifers and Lake Okeechobee. The feeder bands--which are weirdly intense squalls--have started already. Of course, the thing that started yesterday is even more entertaining--the desperate hunt for fluids, especially bottled water. This happens every time. The giddy population rushes to every store and buys up every drop of water in a bottle. My question is...why?

1. It's going to rain for days. That's a lot of water. 

2. While some might lose power, few will lose water.

3. It's mighty expensive to flush with Perrier.

I would lose patience with my fellow south Floridians. Except they are infinitely entertaining.

ok. blog #1 is now history. And T, honey, it's all your fault.