kellementology

life according to me

Category: Gratitude

  • Wordless Wednesday Contrasts

    If you haven’t been reading my blog for any length of time, then you need to know that my idea of Wordless Wednesday is to write less than four or five pages in a single post and add photos. That would be today, even though the orange glow of the setting sun on the houses across the street reminds me that this is easily categorized as better late than never.

    Whatever.

    I have a foodie blog friend who lives in Ohio who often mentions their weather in less than loving terms. Suffice it to say that her description of mornings finding her car door frozen shut have been quite colorful and completely hilarious.

    I have been hounding her for photographs of her home town all winter, and yesterday I received them. Oh. My. Goodness. I had a clue because my mom recently moved to upstate New York and has sent me a few, but she isn’t out in her car. No sirree.

    So… I ran outside and took a few of my own photos to warm her up. I figured since most of you live in places much more…um…FRIGID than I do, I’d warm you up also.

    It has been in the mid-seventies for two days now. Even I like it which is semi-miraculous considering the grumpster I am about Paradise and sunshine.

    We slept with our windows open last night, and today?

    Today I put on my shorts, went for a walk, and sat down by the beach waiting for the RTR to finish up with his math tutor (news at eleven…) and watched the surfers.

    Totally excellent. Dude.

    Jeez, Lis… Look what’s blooming in my garden…
    I can’t believe you gotta deal with this… Even the damn palm tree next door that houses all the squawking crows was looking gorgeous…
    It looks just like Christmas, Lis… Our street is pretty empty, too…
    The trees are so perfect, Lis… But the sunset was completely amazing today…
    Everything looks like a delicate work of art… Some would say this is spectacular, too…
    Your “outside” looks a lot different than mine, Lis… Here’s my view at sunset tonight, February 27th…

  • Friday, Rain in Paradise, and Awards…What could be more perfect?

    I’m sitting here just like I so often used to each day, wondering where I should begin. No, not with my writing. That’s rarely an issue because I can just sit down and write most anything I feel like writing. Whether anyone wants to read it is a completely different issue, isn’t it? Sometimes, it’s more of a battle with respect to what tone I want to indulge in, or how many distractions there are on my screen that also vie for my attention. I look at the clock in the upper right corner of my toolbar and am always alarmed at where the time has gone.

    Some of my diversions are quite relevant, as they relate to current events that occupy my mind like the debate between Hillary and Obama last night (and I’ll bet you just can’t wait for me to spew about the whole health care issue, right?) Or the outcome of the first round of eliminations on American Noodle (and wasn’t that cut throat the way the first kid went out?). But many of the distractions that delay my writing when I actually get to wallow in Bloggsville now, are anything but. They’re more like pleasant detours involving the people I’ve met along the way for nearly a year now that I’ve been writing at kellementology and in the land of foodies. Very pleasant detours, diversions, and distractions, all.

    I’ve been trying to get organized, finding that I don’t use my blogroll in either of my blogs. I know. You’re thinking that a blogroll isn’t for me — it’s more to let everyone else know whom I enjoy reading, and to share a link which helps them in the land of Google and Technorati, and all things virtually searchable or something like that.

    So in an attempt to keep in better touch with others, I’ve begun to collect feeds in the reader I chose — Netvibes. I know everyone else seems to use Google Reader, but my affiliation with Google is only through my membership in the Daring Bakers, the ever expanding group (I think there are well over 500 members now…) of loveable foodies with whom I bake once a month. My food blog is hosted by TypePad (which is a network I almost never wander around in for some reason), and this one is my very own, of course. Without my connections to MyBlogLog, Blog Catalog, and more recently, EntreCard (which I haven’t developed a strong opinion about one way or the other), I wouldn’t be very good at keeping up with people. Feh, like I have actually been doing that successfully anyway.

    So I’ve changed the settings on my Mac to open to my Netvibes home page and am racking up the feeds. I know you’re snickering right now thinking that I’ve been under some rock and that having recently freed myself, have discovered something that has been around since Al Gore discovered the Internet.

    Go ahead an laugh. I can take it.

    But the big question is — are YOU in my reader?

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  • Puttin’ on the ritz. Literally.

    IMG_6094.JPG With nearly a week ahead of us and the rarely accurate weatherman’s doom and gloom forecast for the week messing with our heads (not), our jaunt to the Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel as a Valentine from the MoH to moi is now officially a memory.

    But what a lovely one.

    Remember those commercials that one of the cruise lines used to run depicting an average person pumping gas and day dreaming about their experience in temporary splendor? Doesn’t ring any bells? Fine.

    Well, that was our weekend at the Ritz. Totally. Amazing. Now, it would have been a bit better if the coffee we stopped for on the way would have had a lid that actually kept the coffee IN the cup instead of dripping down my white shirt, but no problem. I just happened to have a damp towel in the car so I could wipe down the console on the way to keep the valets from actually knowing we were slobs instead of just wondering.

    I’d been to the Ritz once before with a group of girlfriends and since then, a make over of more contemporary lines, patterns, and color palate has given the hotel a fresh summery look — so much so that I had trouble remembering it was mid February. You know, with temperatures in the high sixties and low seventies instead of mid-eighties? Sorry. I couldn’t resist. You do understand that I would enjoy having a real winter, right? I know I’ve made that perfectly clear.

    But I digress.

    So how relaxing was it?

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  • Funny how things work out…

    Ahhhhh…the glories of working with enormous corporations that have us all by the short hairs. I’ve been scratching my head today, truly wondering what the hell is going on. Wondering whether someone put a whammy on me, or if my stars aren’t lined up correctly, or my horrorscope was not great today.

    Or is it just that as much as giant companies like to project that they provide customer service, and are smiling, helpful, and just love us to death, that they’re just full of horse shit.

    For TWO DAYS I have been trying to purchase a new phone for the MoH. Actually, today would be the third. It was to have been a Valentine’s Day present to help him with organization. I’ve been looking at the PDA’s and thinking that the Palm Treo 700wx Smartphone would be just the ticket. He’d have wireless access when clients don’t and his laptop is then not a help. Sounds great, right?

    Day One: I ventured to the mall and the Verizon kiosk and asked the young lady if she could help me. (Quite the switch from the normal situation where I have to dodge the salesperson who wants to sell me a phone each time I walk by every other time I’ve happened by in the past…) She clearly hadn’t been working there long, so had to rely upon a young man who was also there. I should have known better. It was my car pool pick up day, and I never, ever thought it would take as long as it did to attempt to purchase a phone. Just call me Pollyanna.

    Really.

    So I needed the MoH’s social security number. Sure. That would be something I carry around. I don’t even carry mine around. Not a great idea in this day and age. So I did call the office to get it and things began to move along until we came to another roadblock. If the PDA was purchased and activated, his cell would no longer work. Picture being at a client’s and not being able to access anyone or anything and not know why. Not quite a Valentine, right? So…

    I’d purchase the PDA, and then I’d go back after Valentine’s Day to have it activated, yadda, yadda, yadda.

    They didn’t have the Treo I wanted in stock. Coincidentally, however, an associate (why do they call them that?) was soon to arrive and he would have one. Could I please wait?

    (more…)

  • A Valentine

    Just thought I’d let you know how much you matter. Really.

    So thanks for reading and consider me your valentine.

    Well, just in case you don’t have one. Here's your Valentine

    Or, if you DO have one and “it” didn’t give you a Valentine…

    …tell it to snap out of it for me and remind it that a Valentine can be as simple as:

    • a three carat diamond hug; or
    • as sweet as two dozen long stemmed roses a clean toilet bowl;
    • a cruise around the world trip to the trash can with the day’s garbage, or
    • a tender I love you “Can you get me another beer, babe?”  Erm…well, that wouldn’t exactly work, would it?

    Whatever rocks your boat.

    It’s the thought that counts. And if you actually believe anyone who says it really doesn’t matter, I’ve got prime rain forest property here in Paradise anytime you want it.

    It always matters.

    So that’s why I made you a Valentine with the bonus of a free lecture for no extra cost.

  • Fridays & The Path to Wisdom

    OH-EM-GEE (as the RTR would say) OMG!

    It’s FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes! And I have so much to feel giddy about I fear it will bowl me over. Or something like that.

    The sun is up, the air is bracing (well, I think it is, but I’m not sure because I only cracked the door enough to let Her Fatissima out for her morning constitutional). But you know, cold. Like 48 degrees F. Bwhahahaha! Er…I mean Brrrrrrrrr….!

    My first cuppa coffee was swell so I think I’ll have another.

    As of this writing, Dubyah will only be in office for 347 days, 1 hour, 38 minutes and 56 seconds according to the countdown clock on my monitor.

    American Idol will FINALLY be starting the good shows next week — and I can’t wait — instead of all the up close and personal stuff we forget after all the tweeners start calling and choosing their next heart throb with big hair and the shadow of a mustache not quite ready to be shaved.

    Marcos, my colorist did not fire me as feared. I just got the usual lecture about needing for my hair to be lighter so my roots won’t show when they, well…show. Duh.

    And Dan, the cutter man pretty much cut most of my hairs off. It grows, yanno?Dan the Hair Man gave me a buzz job.

    I’m almost ready for the soiree I’m hosting tomorrow night featuring lip smackin’ Greek-Turkish-Moroccan cuisine prepared by myself and my VBF to celebrate the birthdays of two very dear friends (VGF and She Who Has No Blog Acronym) Oh. And their husbands. 😉

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  • Counting.

    Ever feel like something is creeping up on you?  Ahhh…it’s Wednesday.

    And for me, that means tomorrow is Friday. Thursday is my Friday. I shouldn’t look forward to it the way I do because it inevitably leaves me with the feeling that life is stuck in one of those giant revolving doors that move people in an out of large spaces.

    So I remind myself to take a breath, slow my mind down, and appreciate the day.

    There’s quite a bit to appreciate.

    There isn’t 12 feet of snow on the ground.

    I don’t have to scrape ice off my driveway or windshield.

    I can wear a single layer to work instead of R-30 insulation.

    Everything’s green.

    Best Buy finally delivered a new television and the Geek Squad will be here in a couple of days to put it back on the wall.

    And American Idol will keep us riveted to the television a few hours a week for a while.

    What more could I ask for?

    Okay, so it would be great if Hilary and Obama would stop bickering at one another.  And Mitt Romney would take over the hosting of Jeopardy! and give Alex Trebek a rest.

    Then, life would be perfect.

  • Tuesdays and Routines

    I got my wish. Greyness and clouds have blanketed the skies of Paradise the last couple of days, and although we’ll never begin to imagine the coldness much of the country is experiencing right now, 56 degrees at mid day is chilly.

    After a three day weekend, the teens were slow to start this morning during my carpool duty. It was especially quiet: no shuffling through papers in last minute preparation for a test, or talk of a recent session on XBox. Totally silent. Regardless, they’re great kids, always responding to my “Good Morning” with their own greeting, and an immediate “Thank you” as we arrive at the curb where I let them off. Even in their subdued state today, they muttered thanks and slowly walked onto campus. As I pulled away from the curb, I glanced at their downcast faces nearly lost inside the hoods of their sweatshirts, and remembered how much I used to not like Tuesdays.

    On these early days, I have time to detour for coffee before heading for work, but try not to make it a habit. I see no reason to spend three or four dollars for something I’ve already had a portion of at home before leaving, and can get free at work if I choose. If it was routine, well, then it would be a routine and not something to look forward to. Today, I did stop, though. It’s easy to tell the Pannekin was once an old house, with hardwood floors that creak as I wait my turn, and a fire that warms the room. The man and woman behind the counter are cheerful without fail, smiling, attentive. I respond to their “Good Morning” with my own, avoiding even a glance at the fresh cinnamon rolls, pastries, and slices of pie. Last Thursday, I couldn’t resist a raspberry scone, and decided that although it was quite tasty, there was no way I could get away with this business of coffee and a sweet. Oh well.

    My extra large cappuccino with an extra shot can help make my brief and rarely trying drive to work even more enjoyable. I listen to the incessant doom and gloom NPR eloquently rolls out each morning, objectively observe the drivers around me darting in and around one another in an attempt to get just one more car length ahead, and take an occasional dark-roasty sip.

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  • The sun did come up today.

    I need the sky to be grey and angry looking. I want the wind to blow and rain to fall. But it’s blue as far as I can see.

    I don’t want to hear the kids at the end of the block playing in the cul-de-sac. But they’re laughing and screaming at one another, having fun.

    I want the trees to be bare like they’re supposed to be in the winter, and not green with signs of spring already.

    I’m not in the right frame of mind for blooming and regrowth. Sprouting and budding.

    I thought it might be good to bury my head in the pillows until about noon, but knew that was never going to happen. And once I’m awake, the last thing I want to do is lay there and think. Not today. Especially today.

    I headed for the bathroom acknowledging my numb around the edges self, knowing that I wouldn’t see Blackitty, and wondering whether my ugly, red, puffy eyes could actually squeeze out more tears. They felt like they wanted to. And right when I could feel the wave of grief begin to wash over me, the door nudged forward and my dog’s big golden head and soft brown eyes pushed into the space, tentatively, seeking permission. Her cold wet nose bumped against my knee and I could hear the thump of her tail against the vanity as I scratched her head to say thank you for continuing Blackitty’s routine. A very nice dog.

    So amazing.

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  • My Heart is Broken…

    I have been fortunate to have known many lovely cats in my life. If I proceed slowly backwards, with each name I recall, I can glimpse a bit of the life I was leading when I had each one, and smile remembering what knowing them brought to me.

    Blackitty (Mr. Blaxter Blackington) & Precious (The Yack Star)…Dear, dear Holis and his friend, Miss Mew…Rocky Lou…Yeller, Jasper. Tar Baby. Spark Good Buddy. Sissy Kitty. Tuffy. Big Kitty. Boomer…and so many others.

    A few of them have been very special. They had the quiet ability to soothe when the need was there. To calm. To provide warmth and a bit of softness exactly when it was needed. Somehow they just understood that their responsibility was to share themselves unselfishly. I can think of almost nothing else that is as simple, and yet so valuable.

    I lost the dearest one today. Blackitty. The loveliest cat I’ve ever had. IMG_0971.JPG

    I knew something was wrong, but I just couldn’t bring myself to deal with it. I didn’t want to imagine how it might be to not see him each morning in the bathroom after I’d dragged myself out of bed. He’d push open the door, slink through it, rub against my legs, and then stretch his velvety body with one paw pushed against the wall.

    He didn’t do that today.

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