Hello.
Okay, I've been struggling with knowing what I should be doing and making excuses for not doing it. Can you understand that statement?
I love to write stories. I am constantly thinking of stories, characters, ideas, lessons, settings etc. I especially think in picture books for children.
I believe that we can change the world through children. I believe that children are the closest beings to God. They see the world in an unprejudiced manner when they are very young. They explore and discover. They don't place a value or judgement on what they experiment with, they just "be" in whatever they're doing.
I try hard to capture the pureness or innocence of children when I put an idea for a book together.
Lately, I've been tied up with taking care of patients. I truly do care for the well-being of people placed in my care, but it can get overwhelming with MD calls and insurance woes. What began as only four hours a day had turned into six or more and frequently six or seven days a week. As a result, my writing became non-existent and I became more unsettled inside.
Now that school is out for the summer, my husband (who is a teacher) has been home. I've been using him to help with the daily grind-chores, errands, meal prep-and I've been getting back to where my heart is....writing.
It feels good. It feels like I'm scratching the proverbial itch. I am feeling like I have a purpose outside of my responsibilities. That is good.
I'm hoping that someone out there-editor or publisher-finds my work worthy of publishing. I'm hoping that my projects bring lightheartedness and quiet lessons to the readers. I'm hoping that I can do more writing and less PT. Time will let me know.
For right now, I'm grateful for my book that will be published soon. I'm hopeful for future books. I'm enjoying getting back to writing and fulfilling my dreams and I'm looking forward to hearing the stories that speak to me in my head every day. I can't wait to get them down on paper.
I'll keep you posted.
Have hope,
Donna
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Love Sunny Summer Mornings
Hello!!
This is my favorite time of the year. I love waking up to sunshine. I'm an early riser and seeing the sun at 5:00 AM gives my day an awesome start.
Today promises to be hot, very hot. I love the heat. I believe it comes from my Mediterranean roots.
Since it is summer vacation and since I did extra patients yesterday I plan to spend the day with two of my children (the other two are working) and do fun things as well as a few chores.
I have a long list of things I want to do and have to do. Thank goodness that the sun will be shining until eight or nine o'clock tonight.
I am totally a sunshine person. The light affects my mood like nothing else. Whenever I hear people complain about the sun and heat I remind myself of the dark days of January and February. Those two months are dark and gloomy and cold.
I am thrilled to have a chance to spend this day in the sun and heat and with my kids. Today is a good day. I am glad to experience it.
How about you-what makes your day?
Have hope,
Donna
This is my favorite time of the year. I love waking up to sunshine. I'm an early riser and seeing the sun at 5:00 AM gives my day an awesome start.
Today promises to be hot, very hot. I love the heat. I believe it comes from my Mediterranean roots.
Since it is summer vacation and since I did extra patients yesterday I plan to spend the day with two of my children (the other two are working) and do fun things as well as a few chores.
I have a long list of things I want to do and have to do. Thank goodness that the sun will be shining until eight or nine o'clock tonight.
I am totally a sunshine person. The light affects my mood like nothing else. Whenever I hear people complain about the sun and heat I remind myself of the dark days of January and February. Those two months are dark and gloomy and cold.
I am thrilled to have a chance to spend this day in the sun and heat and with my kids. Today is a good day. I am glad to experience it.
How about you-what makes your day?
Have hope,
Donna
Saturday, June 23, 2007
First Tooth
Hello!
In reference to yesterday's blog, today was one of those days of endings and beginnings. This morning my husband and I coached our son's last soccer game. It was a great, cool morning and everyone was excited to play. After the game, we had ice cream and gave out "awards."
Tonight while eating dinner, corn on the cob to be exact, our littlest guy lost his first tooth. We had been anticipating it for a day or two. When I went to the grocery store this afternoon I picked up the corn thinking it might help the process along. He was so cute. He didn't even know his tooth was gone. He said, "Look, there's blood on my corn." I quickly looked more closely and there was his tiny tooth. He looked at it and didn't really realize what happened until after we rinsed out his mouth and so he could look more closely. That's when we discovered he had another loose tooth. So.........we await the next exciting event.
This is a big deal for kids. All school year he looked in the mirror when he brushed his teeth hoping to see one of them wiggle. After this tooth came out both of my older children, who were present, told stories about when they lost their first tooth. Isn't it funny how something as little as losing a tooth evokes so many fond memories?
We had a fun time talking about teeth and losing them and then memories surrounding teeth and growing up. We called both grandmas and told them the news. They were both very excited.
Now we await the visit from the tooth fairy. Our little guy is a little scared so he's hunkered down under his sheet. We told him that there is nothing to be afraid of because the tooth fairy loves him very much, but he still preferred to stay under the sheet. Oh well.....
Until next time...have hope.
Donna
In reference to yesterday's blog, today was one of those days of endings and beginnings. This morning my husband and I coached our son's last soccer game. It was a great, cool morning and everyone was excited to play. After the game, we had ice cream and gave out "awards."
Tonight while eating dinner, corn on the cob to be exact, our littlest guy lost his first tooth. We had been anticipating it for a day or two. When I went to the grocery store this afternoon I picked up the corn thinking it might help the process along. He was so cute. He didn't even know his tooth was gone. He said, "Look, there's blood on my corn." I quickly looked more closely and there was his tiny tooth. He looked at it and didn't really realize what happened until after we rinsed out his mouth and so he could look more closely. That's when we discovered he had another loose tooth. So.........we await the next exciting event.
This is a big deal for kids. All school year he looked in the mirror when he brushed his teeth hoping to see one of them wiggle. After this tooth came out both of my older children, who were present, told stories about when they lost their first tooth. Isn't it funny how something as little as losing a tooth evokes so many fond memories?
We had a fun time talking about teeth and losing them and then memories surrounding teeth and growing up. We called both grandmas and told them the news. They were both very excited.
Now we await the visit from the tooth fairy. Our little guy is a little scared so he's hunkered down under his sheet. We told him that there is nothing to be afraid of because the tooth fairy loves him very much, but he still preferred to stay under the sheet. Oh well.....
Until next time...have hope.
Donna
Friday, June 22, 2007
Ends and Beginnings or Vice Versa
Hello.
It's Friday. It's the last day of the week. It's the last day of the school year. This day always fills me with jumbled feelings inside. The day or perhaps more accurately, this time of the year, feels like an ending as well as a beginning to me.
When I think of it being the end of things, I experience feelings about whether I accomplished all that I had hoped to by this point in the year. I feel anxious that I didn't work with the diligence or determination in all the areas I'd hoped to. I then feel sad that I let myself down. In relation to my children and their endings, I examine whether I was present enough in their lives to help them achieve their goals. The whole "ending thing" becomes a mind game. Then I feel depressed.
When I think of it being new beginnings, I experience feelings of hope and gratitude. I look at the future days as new chances to affect a change both in my self and my goals and others. I look at my children and strategize how I can be supportive and encouraging to them as they face their future. I also feel grateful about what has been done in my life on the positive realm. I work hard to tease apart the specifics of my life and consciously acknowledge my gratitude for them.
How can one day or one time of the year bring about such intense feelings that run the entire gamut between depression and hope? I grapple with ideas such as these often.
What I am learning is that:
I am a human being and being such portends me to the very real emotions of the earth-the whole from dust to dust thing. The sadness or anxiousness or depression feelings are about as down in the dirt as one can feel.
I am a spiritual being and being such portends me to the inspirational emotions of the heavens-the whole God in me and me in God thing. The hopefulness or loving or gratefulness feelings lift me up to a whole new energetic level.
I am in constant change. This morning when I talked with my neighbor Sharon, she asked me how I was feeling about my son's graduation ceremony last night and said to her, "Well, everyone here keeps moving. I can't just stand here. I gotta keep moving too." I didn't say it to be profound but after I said it I realized it was a profound statement. Our lives are in a constant flux. If we don't move along we die. If we move forward we grow and learn. If we try to stop or move backwards we have pain and disappointment.
I am allowed "do overs". Every morning is my opportunity to begin afresh. It is like getting a gift of energy from God each day.
I am allowed mistakes. Every night, I allow myself to acknowledge where I could have done things better. It is like getting a gift of insight from God each day.
I am allowed forgiving. Every day, forgiving myself, helps me to accept "mistakes" and begin my "do overs."
So, where does all this thinking and learning bring me? Do I need an insane asylum? Do I need a good stiff drink? Do I need a long vacation? Does anyone else out there feel this way? Does anyone else come to similar conclusions as I?
I hope so.
Until tomorrow and new beginnings...have hope.
Donna
It's Friday. It's the last day of the week. It's the last day of the school year. This day always fills me with jumbled feelings inside. The day or perhaps more accurately, this time of the year, feels like an ending as well as a beginning to me.
When I think of it being the end of things, I experience feelings about whether I accomplished all that I had hoped to by this point in the year. I feel anxious that I didn't work with the diligence or determination in all the areas I'd hoped to. I then feel sad that I let myself down. In relation to my children and their endings, I examine whether I was present enough in their lives to help them achieve their goals. The whole "ending thing" becomes a mind game. Then I feel depressed.
When I think of it being new beginnings, I experience feelings of hope and gratitude. I look at the future days as new chances to affect a change both in my self and my goals and others. I look at my children and strategize how I can be supportive and encouraging to them as they face their future. I also feel grateful about what has been done in my life on the positive realm. I work hard to tease apart the specifics of my life and consciously acknowledge my gratitude for them.
How can one day or one time of the year bring about such intense feelings that run the entire gamut between depression and hope? I grapple with ideas such as these often.
What I am learning is that:
I am a human being and being such portends me to the very real emotions of the earth-the whole from dust to dust thing. The sadness or anxiousness or depression feelings are about as down in the dirt as one can feel.
I am a spiritual being and being such portends me to the inspirational emotions of the heavens-the whole God in me and me in God thing. The hopefulness or loving or gratefulness feelings lift me up to a whole new energetic level.
I am in constant change. This morning when I talked with my neighbor Sharon, she asked me how I was feeling about my son's graduation ceremony last night and said to her, "Well, everyone here keeps moving. I can't just stand here. I gotta keep moving too." I didn't say it to be profound but after I said it I realized it was a profound statement. Our lives are in a constant flux. If we don't move along we die. If we move forward we grow and learn. If we try to stop or move backwards we have pain and disappointment.
I am allowed "do overs". Every morning is my opportunity to begin afresh. It is like getting a gift of energy from God each day.
I am allowed mistakes. Every night, I allow myself to acknowledge where I could have done things better. It is like getting a gift of insight from God each day.
I am allowed forgiving. Every day, forgiving myself, helps me to accept "mistakes" and begin my "do overs."
So, where does all this thinking and learning bring me? Do I need an insane asylum? Do I need a good stiff drink? Do I need a long vacation? Does anyone else out there feel this way? Does anyone else come to similar conclusions as I?
I hope so.
Until tomorrow and new beginnings...have hope.
Donna
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Transitions
Hello.
I'm sorry I haven't written for a few days. I planned to write but couldn't put the words on the blog at night. (when I usually blog) It's been a time of transition for me and my family.
"Transitions" is a complicated word.
I think I first truly understood it's meaning when I was nine centimeters dialated and in great pain prior to the birth of my son. The trevail was intense as was the peace after he was delivered.
I learned more about transitions when I heard the words, "Your son has a massive growth in the back of his head," six years later. The realization of those words was intense as was the peace that soothed my soul right after.
Now, we experience this transition.
The fear for his well being is great inside of me. He is leaving the warm, fuzzy coccoon of caring professionals who patiently taught him (and me) and guided him (and me) through every new learning he achieved. But also is the blessed peace that bathes my heart and mind when I remind myself of how far he has come and how faithful life has been to him.
As I sat at his ceremony tonight, I had so many conflicting thoughts and desires. How I wished he was graduating from a "normal" highschool or college. How I wished he was facing a fantastic job or graduate school. How I wished he was standing tall and smart amongst his peers.
Then my heart filled with joy at the sight of him standing there with the thirteen other graduates. He was the shortest person in line but his smile was as big as the others. His diploma was introduced by his teacher, with amazing words-listing his accomplishments and declarations of contributions he has made to his classmates over the years. He has worked hard. He has done a good job.
Now he will face day-hab and part-time work. He has trained in a number of areas. He has choices ahead of him for the kind of work he'd like to dedicate himself to. He has learned important communication and life skills and now he is ready to use them. He has the assurance that he will be successful because he has experienced success many, many times.
I face "resting in the peace" that guided us to this point in life. I face "resting in the peace" that the next group of caring professionals with teach and guide us through new and interesting adventures. I face "resting in the peace" that lessons to be learned will be exactly what both of us need to learn.
Finally, I "rest in the peace" that this transition will be okay.
Have hope,
Donna
I'm sorry I haven't written for a few days. I planned to write but couldn't put the words on the blog at night. (when I usually blog) It's been a time of transition for me and my family.
"Transitions" is a complicated word.
I think I first truly understood it's meaning when I was nine centimeters dialated and in great pain prior to the birth of my son. The trevail was intense as was the peace after he was delivered.
I learned more about transitions when I heard the words, "Your son has a massive growth in the back of his head," six years later. The realization of those words was intense as was the peace that soothed my soul right after.
Now, we experience this transition.
The fear for his well being is great inside of me. He is leaving the warm, fuzzy coccoon of caring professionals who patiently taught him (and me) and guided him (and me) through every new learning he achieved. But also is the blessed peace that bathes my heart and mind when I remind myself of how far he has come and how faithful life has been to him.
As I sat at his ceremony tonight, I had so many conflicting thoughts and desires. How I wished he was graduating from a "normal" highschool or college. How I wished he was facing a fantastic job or graduate school. How I wished he was standing tall and smart amongst his peers.
Then my heart filled with joy at the sight of him standing there with the thirteen other graduates. He was the shortest person in line but his smile was as big as the others. His diploma was introduced by his teacher, with amazing words-listing his accomplishments and declarations of contributions he has made to his classmates over the years. He has worked hard. He has done a good job.
Now he will face day-hab and part-time work. He has trained in a number of areas. He has choices ahead of him for the kind of work he'd like to dedicate himself to. He has learned important communication and life skills and now he is ready to use them. He has the assurance that he will be successful because he has experienced success many, many times.
I face "resting in the peace" that guided us to this point in life. I face "resting in the peace" that the next group of caring professionals with teach and guide us through new and interesting adventures. I face "resting in the peace" that lessons to be learned will be exactly what both of us need to learn.
Finally, I "rest in the peace" that this transition will be okay.
Have hope,
Donna
Monday, June 18, 2007
Taking a Walk
Hello.
Tonight my youngest son and I went for a walk. We've been doing it for a few days in a row. It isn't a long walk; about one mile. Walking with him is like stepping into another little world-a private world where everything exciting happens about four feet from the sidewalk.
Tonight, he found the "helicopters" that fall from the maple trees this time of the year. He found his first one and exclaimed, "Look mom, a flying thing." When I told him it was a maple tree seed also known as a helicopter he remembered exactly what we did with them last year when he discovered them. The two of us must have spent about 20 minutes in front a yellow house throwing the helicopters in the air and watching them float back down to earth. He got real good at throwing them and then started trying to catch them mid-flight.
When we tired of that, we walked the rest of the way home...well we tried to walk the rest of the way home. I wear a pedometer when I walk and my little guy finds it fascinating so he was obsessed with stopping every three or four steps to check it out. He was charming.
These little excursions of exploration into the life of a five-year-old helps make the rest of my day make sense. The fatigue I feel after running around all day, doing what is expected of me, disappears when I get my one mile reprieve with him.
Tomorrow is another day. The weatherman says it's gonna be just as nice. I'm looking forward to see what my little red-head has instore for me on our next adventure.
Until then...
Have hope,
Donna
Tonight my youngest son and I went for a walk. We've been doing it for a few days in a row. It isn't a long walk; about one mile. Walking with him is like stepping into another little world-a private world where everything exciting happens about four feet from the sidewalk.
Tonight, he found the "helicopters" that fall from the maple trees this time of the year. He found his first one and exclaimed, "Look mom, a flying thing." When I told him it was a maple tree seed also known as a helicopter he remembered exactly what we did with them last year when he discovered them. The two of us must have spent about 20 minutes in front a yellow house throwing the helicopters in the air and watching them float back down to earth. He got real good at throwing them and then started trying to catch them mid-flight.
When we tired of that, we walked the rest of the way home...well we tried to walk the rest of the way home. I wear a pedometer when I walk and my little guy finds it fascinating so he was obsessed with stopping every three or four steps to check it out. He was charming.
These little excursions of exploration into the life of a five-year-old helps make the rest of my day make sense. The fatigue I feel after running around all day, doing what is expected of me, disappears when I get my one mile reprieve with him.
Tomorrow is another day. The weatherman says it's gonna be just as nice. I'm looking forward to see what my little red-head has instore for me on our next adventure.
Until then...
Have hope,
Donna
Sunday, June 17, 2007
My Dad
Hello.
Today was Father's Day. My day began on the soccer field at 9:15 AM. The early game got everyone on and off the field in good time to enjoy the sunny, cool day.
After our game, we drove to a diner half-way between our home and my mom and dad's home. We like to meet for breakfast about once a month. It was great to see my dad on Father's Day.
My dad is 76 years old. He is a retired school teacher and then a retired historian and now he does a lot of volunteering in my home town. He takes art classes and exercises every day. If you met him, you would not believe he is 76. He reads whenever he gets the chance, which is every day. It is so great to have him.
My dad was a teacher in the same high school where I attended. People often asked me what it was like having my dad teach in the same place as where I went to school. Every time they'd asked me, I didn't really have an answer. I grew up admiring my dad as a teacher knowing that someday he'd be teaching in the same school as I. (We only had one high school in my small town.) It was a matter of fact that our paths would cross eventually.
My dad still lives in the same house I grew up in. He still walks to the post office and bank and dentist. He has watched his students grow up and have families. There isn't one place that he frequents where he doesn't bump into a past student. (I'm talking generations of students.) I live 100 miles from him and even I bump into his past students. It's amazing.
My dad likes to spend time with his daughters (and grandchildren). You know, teaching wasn't the best paying profession in my small town. I remember my dad teaching school for twenty years and celebrating his finally making twenty thousand dollars. (I think that is a sad commentary about our society as a whole but I'm not going to get into that right now.) The point I want to make is that my dad taught at the same school that all of his daughters attended. (There is no monetary value one can place on that benefit.) He saw us everyday during our high school years. He respected our age and interests and let us become our own person. He watched with an eye of pride and wisdom, taking joy in our triumphs, and giving thoughtful words during our trials. When teenage events seemed so big and important to us at the time, he had the overview to know it was 'just a moment' in our lives, and he directed us with timely advice to keep us feeling valued and cared for but also independent and smart. I appreciate that.
My dad teaches lessons without saying words too. He has his daily schedule and routine, which encompasses morning exercise to take care of his body, scripture reading to care of his spirit and daily volunteering to care of his soul. I can wake up any day of the week and know what he will be doing on that day or at a certain time of that day. He lives season to season, mowing the lawn, raking the leaves, or shoveling the snow. He takes out the trash every week, reads at church every few weeks, and sends his granddaughter's gas money after receiving his pension check every month. He doesn't have to say a word and we all know the things he values most in his life and how important it is to attain to your highest ideals. I admire that.
As I grow older and experience the life of a parent, I draw comfort in the memories of how my dad lived his life. I also take care and make a mental note of how he lives during these golden years.
He is my example.
He is my role model.
He is my dad.
Have hope,
Donna
Today was Father's Day. My day began on the soccer field at 9:15 AM. The early game got everyone on and off the field in good time to enjoy the sunny, cool day.
After our game, we drove to a diner half-way between our home and my mom and dad's home. We like to meet for breakfast about once a month. It was great to see my dad on Father's Day.
My dad is 76 years old. He is a retired school teacher and then a retired historian and now he does a lot of volunteering in my home town. He takes art classes and exercises every day. If you met him, you would not believe he is 76. He reads whenever he gets the chance, which is every day. It is so great to have him.
My dad was a teacher in the same high school where I attended. People often asked me what it was like having my dad teach in the same place as where I went to school. Every time they'd asked me, I didn't really have an answer. I grew up admiring my dad as a teacher knowing that someday he'd be teaching in the same school as I. (We only had one high school in my small town.) It was a matter of fact that our paths would cross eventually.
My dad still lives in the same house I grew up in. He still walks to the post office and bank and dentist. He has watched his students grow up and have families. There isn't one place that he frequents where he doesn't bump into a past student. (I'm talking generations of students.) I live 100 miles from him and even I bump into his past students. It's amazing.
My dad likes to spend time with his daughters (and grandchildren). You know, teaching wasn't the best paying profession in my small town. I remember my dad teaching school for twenty years and celebrating his finally making twenty thousand dollars. (I think that is a sad commentary about our society as a whole but I'm not going to get into that right now.) The point I want to make is that my dad taught at the same school that all of his daughters attended. (There is no monetary value one can place on that benefit.) He saw us everyday during our high school years. He respected our age and interests and let us become our own person. He watched with an eye of pride and wisdom, taking joy in our triumphs, and giving thoughtful words during our trials. When teenage events seemed so big and important to us at the time, he had the overview to know it was 'just a moment' in our lives, and he directed us with timely advice to keep us feeling valued and cared for but also independent and smart. I appreciate that.
My dad teaches lessons without saying words too. He has his daily schedule and routine, which encompasses morning exercise to take care of his body, scripture reading to care of his spirit and daily volunteering to care of his soul. I can wake up any day of the week and know what he will be doing on that day or at a certain time of that day. He lives season to season, mowing the lawn, raking the leaves, or shoveling the snow. He takes out the trash every week, reads at church every few weeks, and sends his granddaughter's gas money after receiving his pension check every month. He doesn't have to say a word and we all know the things he values most in his life and how important it is to attain to your highest ideals. I admire that.
As I grow older and experience the life of a parent, I draw comfort in the memories of how my dad lived his life. I also take care and make a mental note of how he lives during these golden years.
He is my example.
He is my role model.
He is my dad.
Have hope,
Donna
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Not Much to Say
Hello.
It isn't often that I don't have an opinion or a thought that I'd like to share. My brain is always contemplating something in the universe. Today though, my brain had a quiet day. I think that the busy-ness of yesterday in NYC jammed my nerve endings and they are trying to re-route their pathways.
Today I spent a lot of time with my two sons. We did errands together and spent time shopping at the mall. It was fun spending time with my boys. They are totally different than girls. (I know, I'm going to be considered sexist.) Both of my boys, when shopping for clothes, had to be "redirected" to help pick out useful clothing. They were more interested in baseball caps than the shorts we needed to buy. When I had to get special soap for our bathrooms, they took off to FYE to check out the lastest movie releases. When I needed to get a Father's Day gift (for my dad), I was dragged off to the video game store to see if the latest Nintendo game was in stock. The only place they willingly followed me into was Gertrude Hawks-to get a chocolate treat.
Still I enjoyed the afternoon with them. The banter revolved more around electronic stuff and cars than fashion and friends. There was no leisure walk, stopping to look in store windows and chat. When I saw a friend, I said a quick hello and good-bye because idle talk wasn't programmed into the "XY" computer.
Even so, I had fun. When we got into the house, there was no fashion show to show off our purchases. There was no line-by-line account of "she said this" or "she said that". There wasn't even so much as a discussion of what the next shopping trip should entail. I just turned off the car; heard three doors slam and walked into the house to "Hi Donna, what's for dinner?"
That's okay. It was great just to hang out with my boys.
Have hope,
Donna
It isn't often that I don't have an opinion or a thought that I'd like to share. My brain is always contemplating something in the universe. Today though, my brain had a quiet day. I think that the busy-ness of yesterday in NYC jammed my nerve endings and they are trying to re-route their pathways.
Today I spent a lot of time with my two sons. We did errands together and spent time shopping at the mall. It was fun spending time with my boys. They are totally different than girls. (I know, I'm going to be considered sexist.) Both of my boys, when shopping for clothes, had to be "redirected" to help pick out useful clothing. They were more interested in baseball caps than the shorts we needed to buy. When I had to get special soap for our bathrooms, they took off to FYE to check out the lastest movie releases. When I needed to get a Father's Day gift (for my dad), I was dragged off to the video game store to see if the latest Nintendo game was in stock. The only place they willingly followed me into was Gertrude Hawks-to get a chocolate treat.
Still I enjoyed the afternoon with them. The banter revolved more around electronic stuff and cars than fashion and friends. There was no leisure walk, stopping to look in store windows and chat. When I saw a friend, I said a quick hello and good-bye because idle talk wasn't programmed into the "XY" computer.
Even so, I had fun. When we got into the house, there was no fashion show to show off our purchases. There was no line-by-line account of "she said this" or "she said that". There wasn't even so much as a discussion of what the next shopping trip should entail. I just turned off the car; heard three doors slam and walked into the house to "Hi Donna, what's for dinner?"
That's okay. It was great just to hang out with my boys.
Have hope,
Donna
Friday, June 15, 2007
Jeopardy!!
Hello!
It's very late. It's Friday night and my husband, my son and I recently returned from our very long day in NYC for my husband's part two of his Jeopardy qualifying test. I'm so glad to say that he did very well and was selected to be on the contestant list. At this point, as we understand things, the taping of the show begins in July and contestants are notified 2-3 weeks prior to their scheduled date. So.....we wait to hear.
I gotta go, I'm beat.
Have hope,
Donna
It's very late. It's Friday night and my husband, my son and I recently returned from our very long day in NYC for my husband's part two of his Jeopardy qualifying test. I'm so glad to say that he did very well and was selected to be on the contestant list. At this point, as we understand things, the taping of the show begins in July and contestants are notified 2-3 weeks prior to their scheduled date. So.....we wait to hear.
I gotta go, I'm beat.
Have hope,
Donna
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Crystal Balls
Hello.
Have you ever woken up in the morning feeling kind of blue? Not hugely depressed, you can see the good things in your life. Just a little blue. That's how I felt this morning. My heart wish for today was that I could get a glimpse into the crystal ball of my life. I was feeling worn and worried and just wanted to know that if in the end, everything worked out okay. It was my hope that knowing what the end was, I'd be able to handle the journey getting there.
Anyways, today was a friend of mine's 67th wedding anniversary. She and her husband are in their early nineties and they still call each other "honey" and look forward to spending their days together. I bought two cupcakes at the bakery and brought them over to celebrate.
When I got into their apartment, I asked them what they were doing 67 years ago at that moment. Both of them smiled and he said, I was at the airport waiting to see if she was going to make it to the wedding on time. I didn't expect an answer like that. She confirmed it. She was flying in from Nashville, Tennessee on her wedding day because the day before there was a storm and her flight was canceled.
Then I heard the story. My lady friend shared with me that she got married in a quiet manner. Not because of anything lurid but because she had little to no family. She explained to me that her mother and father died when she was a teenager...her mom from cancer and her dad from a heart attack the following year. She worked as a mother's helper while finishing high school. The local high school gave her $75.00 (a huge amount back then) so that she could buy a dress for graduation. After that she worked and went to college. She became a nurse and then went back to school to be a teacher because she wanted to do both. She said she had an aunt she would live with when things got tough but she pretty much raised herself. (She had no siblings.)
Then she said it....."You know, whenever I needed anything I always had it. There were times I needed money to live and something happened. Someone would give it to me or something worked in my favor! Can you imagine that? Someone was looking out for me. I was always okay."
So much for needing to look into my own crystal ball. My little old lady friend gave me such a gift this morning. She didn't even realize how soothing her words were to me. I got teary for a second but didn't want her to know. This was her day, not a day for me to whine and cry...especially since I have so many good things in my life.
I'd like to say that the "blues" went away after that...they didn't, but I pondered her words all day long. Her memories and wisdom has soothed me more than looking into a crystal ball would have. Looking into the crystal ball would have shown me the end picture but hearing her words, imparted to me courage and hope so I can find my way...whatever the end picture may be.
Have hope,
Donna
Have you ever woken up in the morning feeling kind of blue? Not hugely depressed, you can see the good things in your life. Just a little blue. That's how I felt this morning. My heart wish for today was that I could get a glimpse into the crystal ball of my life. I was feeling worn and worried and just wanted to know that if in the end, everything worked out okay. It was my hope that knowing what the end was, I'd be able to handle the journey getting there.
Anyways, today was a friend of mine's 67th wedding anniversary. She and her husband are in their early nineties and they still call each other "honey" and look forward to spending their days together. I bought two cupcakes at the bakery and brought them over to celebrate.
When I got into their apartment, I asked them what they were doing 67 years ago at that moment. Both of them smiled and he said, I was at the airport waiting to see if she was going to make it to the wedding on time. I didn't expect an answer like that. She confirmed it. She was flying in from Nashville, Tennessee on her wedding day because the day before there was a storm and her flight was canceled.
Then I heard the story. My lady friend shared with me that she got married in a quiet manner. Not because of anything lurid but because she had little to no family. She explained to me that her mother and father died when she was a teenager...her mom from cancer and her dad from a heart attack the following year. She worked as a mother's helper while finishing high school. The local high school gave her $75.00 (a huge amount back then) so that she could buy a dress for graduation. After that she worked and went to college. She became a nurse and then went back to school to be a teacher because she wanted to do both. She said she had an aunt she would live with when things got tough but she pretty much raised herself. (She had no siblings.)
Then she said it....."You know, whenever I needed anything I always had it. There were times I needed money to live and something happened. Someone would give it to me or something worked in my favor! Can you imagine that? Someone was looking out for me. I was always okay."
So much for needing to look into my own crystal ball. My little old lady friend gave me such a gift this morning. She didn't even realize how soothing her words were to me. I got teary for a second but didn't want her to know. This was her day, not a day for me to whine and cry...especially since I have so many good things in my life.
I'd like to say that the "blues" went away after that...they didn't, but I pondered her words all day long. Her memories and wisdom has soothed me more than looking into a crystal ball would have. Looking into the crystal ball would have shown me the end picture but hearing her words, imparted to me courage and hope so I can find my way...whatever the end picture may be.
Have hope,
Donna
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Only Two More Days
Hello,
It's Wednesday night. Tomorrow will be a busy day for me. I am cramming six patients into my days schedule which means I won't breathe until after three o'clock because of all the driving and computer-ing. It will be worth it because on Friday, bright and early, my husband, youngest son and I will head down to NYC so that my husband can participate in the second part of qualifying for the TV game show Jeopardy.
Last February he took the online test that was advertised at the end of a Jeopardy episode. It has always been a dream for him to play Jeopardy so he jumped at the chance to take the test. The test was 50 questions in 8 minutes. Once he was done...that was it. He didn't hear anything about it after he hit send.
Last month, in the middle of May, he received an email stating he made a certain score and qualified for the second part of the testing/interviewing process. His scheduled time is Friday at 1:00 PM. Thank goodness we live in NYS; getting to NYC is not a big deal.
So, he has to take a second test at 1:00. If he gets the magic score, he goes into an interview and then mock game. After that....we don't know.
This is all very exciting for him. He's been brushing up on trivia topics. He is excited and at this moment, just wants to get it over with.
So, if you don't have anything else to think about on Friday the 15th, send my husband a few positive thoughts and good-luck wishes. I'll be down there crossing my fingers for him.
I'll let you know the outcome, whatever it is.
Have hope,
Donna
It's Wednesday night. Tomorrow will be a busy day for me. I am cramming six patients into my days schedule which means I won't breathe until after three o'clock because of all the driving and computer-ing. It will be worth it because on Friday, bright and early, my husband, youngest son and I will head down to NYC so that my husband can participate in the second part of qualifying for the TV game show Jeopardy.
Last February he took the online test that was advertised at the end of a Jeopardy episode. It has always been a dream for him to play Jeopardy so he jumped at the chance to take the test. The test was 50 questions in 8 minutes. Once he was done...that was it. He didn't hear anything about it after he hit send.
Last month, in the middle of May, he received an email stating he made a certain score and qualified for the second part of the testing/interviewing process. His scheduled time is Friday at 1:00 PM. Thank goodness we live in NYS; getting to NYC is not a big deal.
So, he has to take a second test at 1:00. If he gets the magic score, he goes into an interview and then mock game. After that....we don't know.
This is all very exciting for him. He's been brushing up on trivia topics. He is excited and at this moment, just wants to get it over with.
So, if you don't have anything else to think about on Friday the 15th, send my husband a few positive thoughts and good-luck wishes. I'll be down there crossing my fingers for him.
I'll let you know the outcome, whatever it is.
Have hope,
Donna
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Our Steady Rain
Hello.
It's raining this evening. The sky is bright but very fine rain drops are steadily falling out of the sky. Today was very hot so this rain is very refreshing. It is a quiet time in my house tonight. One child is listening to a book on tape. One is studying for a Math final. One is playing Webkins on the computer and one is working. My husband is doing the endless end of the year work for school. I'm looking up publishers to submit a couple of picture books to. Tonight we had to cancel soccer practice because of the rain.
It is a good night. A peaceful one. I like evenings that this. When I stop writing, I'm going to work out on my eliptical exerciser and then settle down with a good book.
I hope you have a peaceful evening too.
Have hope,
Donna
It's raining this evening. The sky is bright but very fine rain drops are steadily falling out of the sky. Today was very hot so this rain is very refreshing. It is a quiet time in my house tonight. One child is listening to a book on tape. One is studying for a Math final. One is playing Webkins on the computer and one is working. My husband is doing the endless end of the year work for school. I'm looking up publishers to submit a couple of picture books to. Tonight we had to cancel soccer practice because of the rain.
It is a good night. A peaceful one. I like evenings that this. When I stop writing, I'm going to work out on my eliptical exerciser and then settle down with a good book.
I hope you have a peaceful evening too.
Have hope,
Donna
Monday, June 11, 2007
What time is it?
Hello!
Phew, I have to take a breath. It's nighttime and I feel like I haven't had a moment to figure out what day of the week it is. Today, I had a higher number of patients to visit than I usually do. At three o'clock I got home to eat lunch when my daughter walked through the door after her day at school. I was amazed that she and I left and arrived home at the same time today. Where did the time go? Soon after she arrived, the rest of the clan came home, only to head out again to an end of the school year performance by our littlest guy. As usual, he sang in the car all the way to the school and once he got on stage he just stood there. It was great!!!
Now we're all home. Two of my kids got their year books today. As I write this, I hear their chatter about friends, and teachers, and life, going on down in the living room. They are so funny. I remember chatting with my friends about our year book too. Was it really twenty-eight years ago?
It amazes me that the clock keeps ticking and the days, the months and the years just fly by. I do not feel like I thought a 46 year-old would feel like. My mom and dad are in their 70's and they say the same thing. I wish I could state an age I feel like, on the inside. My body feels young-in spite of the graying hair and laugh lines. My mind feels alert and active-except for the few times I forget my kid's names. And my energy level is right there where it was when I was in college-honest!!
Does anyone else feel like this?
I meet tons of people in my work. I joke that the average age of the patients I see is 84 years young. Most of these people are terrific. They may be old in their physical bodies but they are spunky and smart and full of funny stories and kindness. I wonder what they would say their inside age is? I think I may ask them tomorrow.
Until next time, enjoy the remainder of your day and have hope.
Donna
Phew, I have to take a breath. It's nighttime and I feel like I haven't had a moment to figure out what day of the week it is. Today, I had a higher number of patients to visit than I usually do. At three o'clock I got home to eat lunch when my daughter walked through the door after her day at school. I was amazed that she and I left and arrived home at the same time today. Where did the time go? Soon after she arrived, the rest of the clan came home, only to head out again to an end of the school year performance by our littlest guy. As usual, he sang in the car all the way to the school and once he got on stage he just stood there. It was great!!!
Now we're all home. Two of my kids got their year books today. As I write this, I hear their chatter about friends, and teachers, and life, going on down in the living room. They are so funny. I remember chatting with my friends about our year book too. Was it really twenty-eight years ago?
It amazes me that the clock keeps ticking and the days, the months and the years just fly by. I do not feel like I thought a 46 year-old would feel like. My mom and dad are in their 70's and they say the same thing. I wish I could state an age I feel like, on the inside. My body feels young-in spite of the graying hair and laugh lines. My mind feels alert and active-except for the few times I forget my kid's names. And my energy level is right there where it was when I was in college-honest!!
Does anyone else feel like this?
I meet tons of people in my work. I joke that the average age of the patients I see is 84 years young. Most of these people are terrific. They may be old in their physical bodies but they are spunky and smart and full of funny stories and kindness. I wonder what they would say their inside age is? I think I may ask them tomorrow.
Until next time, enjoy the remainder of your day and have hope.
Donna
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Soccer Sundays
Hello there.
This spring, my husband and I decided to coach our youngest son's soccer team. We made this decision for a couple of reasons. First, we wanted to do it for our son. He is the youngest of our children and he is so much younger that he tends to follow the teenager activities and not vice-versa. Second, we were frustrated with the past coaching and team philosophies. We decided that instead of complaining on the sideline, we'd be proactive and try to make a difference. It was scary-particularly because neither my husband or I are avid soccer aficionados.
The goal of our first week, for us, was to get through it without letting on that we didn't know much about soccer and, for our team, was that they'd have fun. Having had three older children, I remembered some of the drills they did and I had our team do them. Then we ran up and down the field in a scrimmage and lastly we invited the parents to join us for the last five minutes of practice.
The last five minute thing was something we threw in just for the heck of it. We knew that our son was excited to have us coaching so we figured that the kids would be excited to have their mom or dad play with them. The first time we tried it the parents looked at us-stunned. Then they smiled and a few ran right out on the field enthusiastically and a few joined us reluctantly.
The next week, all the parents brought sneakers.
The next week, all the kids couldn't wait for the last five minutes to grab their parent to play.
The next week, the parents couldn't wait to join.
Now we are down to the last two weeks of our spring season. Our team is so cool. All the parents know each other. All the parents know all the children. During the games everyone is rooting for all of the kids. After the games, the parents and kids hang around just to talk or to kick the ball. It is amazing. We are hearing so many positive comments about how much the kids look forward to coming to soccer. We see how improved the kid's skills are getting. We even see improvement in the parents!!! Most importantly we see how happy both the parents and the kids are during our time together.
My husband and I are looking forward to the end of the season-not because it was a burden or a terrible experience-but because we know it's time for it to end. We gave each player the best of what we knew. We worked to instill a spirit of team work and unity. We opened up the team to positive family interaction.
It was a good thing that my husband and I went out of our comfort zone and stretched our abilities. We got so much back from our team families. I strongly encourage others to take the plunge and get involved in something you would not ordinarily think you could do.
Until fall soccer season....
Have hope,
Donna
Who would have guessed
This spring, my husband and I decided to coach our youngest son's soccer team. We made this decision for a couple of reasons. First, we wanted to do it for our son. He is the youngest of our children and he is so much younger that he tends to follow the teenager activities and not vice-versa. Second, we were frustrated with the past coaching and team philosophies. We decided that instead of complaining on the sideline, we'd be proactive and try to make a difference. It was scary-particularly because neither my husband or I are avid soccer aficionados.
The goal of our first week, for us, was to get through it without letting on that we didn't know much about soccer and, for our team, was that they'd have fun. Having had three older children, I remembered some of the drills they did and I had our team do them. Then we ran up and down the field in a scrimmage and lastly we invited the parents to join us for the last five minutes of practice.
The last five minute thing was something we threw in just for the heck of it. We knew that our son was excited to have us coaching so we figured that the kids would be excited to have their mom or dad play with them. The first time we tried it the parents looked at us-stunned. Then they smiled and a few ran right out on the field enthusiastically and a few joined us reluctantly.
The next week, all the parents brought sneakers.
The next week, all the kids couldn't wait for the last five minutes to grab their parent to play.
The next week, the parents couldn't wait to join.
Now we are down to the last two weeks of our spring season. Our team is so cool. All the parents know each other. All the parents know all the children. During the games everyone is rooting for all of the kids. After the games, the parents and kids hang around just to talk or to kick the ball. It is amazing. We are hearing so many positive comments about how much the kids look forward to coming to soccer. We see how improved the kid's skills are getting. We even see improvement in the parents!!! Most importantly we see how happy both the parents and the kids are during our time together.
My husband and I are looking forward to the end of the season-not because it was a burden or a terrible experience-but because we know it's time for it to end. We gave each player the best of what we knew. We worked to instill a spirit of team work and unity. We opened up the team to positive family interaction.
It was a good thing that my husband and I went out of our comfort zone and stretched our abilities. We got so much back from our team families. I strongly encourage others to take the plunge and get involved in something you would not ordinarily think you could do.
Until fall soccer season....
Have hope,
Donna
Who would have guessed
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Listening to "That" Voice
Hi,
Today I'm writing about something that all of us as women and mothers must be very attuned to. I have four children; three of them are 18 and up. One tends to think that we have to be more alert to unsafe situations for our younger children but today I had an uncomfortable situation occur with my 18 year old.
My daughter had an audition for a local youth orchestra. She worked very hard to prepare for it. I brought her down and waited OUTSIDE the audition room door. The gentleman (and I use the term loosely) came out to greet her. They walked toward the room and were talking. I didn't hear what they were saying until my daughter told me after the audition.
The conversation went like this:
MAN "Hi, are you ready?"
DAUGHTER "Yes."
MAN "You are beautiful."
DAUGHTER "Oh, thank you." giggle, giggle.
They walk into the room where my daughter hands him two pages of sheet music.
MAN "What are these for?"
DAUGHTER "I was told to give these to the auditioner so they can look at them while I play."
MAN "Oh, I'd rather watch you. You're beautiful."
DAUGHTER "Thank you." giggle, giggle.
The 30-minute audition took 10 minutes and my daughter came out very thrilled; not only to be out of the audition but also because she was told she was beautiful.
As you can imagine, every red flag inside of me was raised. I asked if she remembered his name and of course, she didn't. I asked her to tell me what else occurred during the audition, specifically if he touched her. She said no.
I told her that I was uncomfortable with what had transpired and asked her how she felt about the auditioner. To my shock and dismay, she said, "Oh, he was just trying to be nice. He thought I was beautiful." I spent the remainder of our drive home, assessing the situation and my response to it.
What I did was this:
I told her that I felt this man's comments were uncalled for and that I was uncomfortable with them.
I told her I was also concerned that she wasn't the least bit uncomfortable with his comments.
I called her music tutor to see if she could find out who the auditioner was and what his role in the organization was. She wasn't home so I will call her again.
My plan is to keep an eye on this person if he is involved in the organization and if my daughter is accepted into the orchestra.
My plan is to educate my daughter even more than I already have-to fine tune her sense of danger and help train her to hear her inner voice.
I will also report him to the organization's leadership if I am able to gather more incidences of inappropriate behavior towards my daughter.
I will not stop being diligent in protecting my children-no matter how old they are.
Donna
Today I'm writing about something that all of us as women and mothers must be very attuned to. I have four children; three of them are 18 and up. One tends to think that we have to be more alert to unsafe situations for our younger children but today I had an uncomfortable situation occur with my 18 year old.
My daughter had an audition for a local youth orchestra. She worked very hard to prepare for it. I brought her down and waited OUTSIDE the audition room door. The gentleman (and I use the term loosely) came out to greet her. They walked toward the room and were talking. I didn't hear what they were saying until my daughter told me after the audition.
The conversation went like this:
MAN "Hi, are you ready?"
DAUGHTER "Yes."
MAN "You are beautiful."
DAUGHTER "Oh, thank you." giggle, giggle.
They walk into the room where my daughter hands him two pages of sheet music.
MAN "What are these for?"
DAUGHTER "I was told to give these to the auditioner so they can look at them while I play."
MAN "Oh, I'd rather watch you. You're beautiful."
DAUGHTER "Thank you." giggle, giggle.
The 30-minute audition took 10 minutes and my daughter came out very thrilled; not only to be out of the audition but also because she was told she was beautiful.
As you can imagine, every red flag inside of me was raised. I asked if she remembered his name and of course, she didn't. I asked her to tell me what else occurred during the audition, specifically if he touched her. She said no.
I told her that I was uncomfortable with what had transpired and asked her how she felt about the auditioner. To my shock and dismay, she said, "Oh, he was just trying to be nice. He thought I was beautiful." I spent the remainder of our drive home, assessing the situation and my response to it.
What I did was this:
I told her that I felt this man's comments were uncalled for and that I was uncomfortable with them.
I told her I was also concerned that she wasn't the least bit uncomfortable with his comments.
I called her music tutor to see if she could find out who the auditioner was and what his role in the organization was. She wasn't home so I will call her again.
My plan is to keep an eye on this person if he is involved in the organization and if my daughter is accepted into the orchestra.
My plan is to educate my daughter even more than I already have-to fine tune her sense of danger and help train her to hear her inner voice.
I will also report him to the organization's leadership if I am able to gather more incidences of inappropriate behavior towards my daughter.
I will not stop being diligent in protecting my children-no matter how old they are.
Donna
Friday, June 8, 2007
Growing Grass
Hello!
I live on Emerald Lane. It is a lovely little cul-de-sac in Upstate New York. One thing you will notice when you turn down Emerald Lane is the beautiful, lush, green, lawns. The people here take good care of their lawns. Some of my neighbors have lawn services and some of us take care of our own lawn. My husband and I fall into the second category.
When we moved into our home six years ago, the builder hired a lawn company to spray our dirt with a green covering. We were told to water it three times a day for three weeks and we did. Sure enough, a pretty lawn appeared. We fertilized and watched it grow. Our lawn belonged on Emerald Lane.
Then came the drought of 2005. July was particularly dry and our city enforced watering restrictions. We were very conscientious and obeyed the watering rules. Unfortunately for us, the sun was too intense on our front yard and we lost our lawn. We didn't worry too much, we figured we'd replant the next year.
Spring 2006 came and we ordered top soil. We spread thousands of cubic meters of dirt. We seeded and watered. Soon we had little grass "pubies." We were very proud. We fertilized and anticipated a lush, dark green lawn.
Three weeks later, my husband and I noticed a yellow green covering on our lawn. As the days went by the yellow green aura grew and grew. It took over our front lawn. It was crab grass. Our lawn was the only bright green lawn on the lane. In the fall, we raked up what we could and hoped for an early snow.
This spring, my husband and I had to deal with the desert patch in the front of our home. We got a myriad of opinions from different neighbors. We read Internet site after Internet site about crab grass, planting lawns and various products. We spent hours at the garden section at Lowe's discussing our options. Finally, this week we got to work. We raked and seeded and threw dirt over it and watered. We worked hard. Our neighbors walked by and gave us an encouraging word. We felt bolstered.
Now we wait. Each morning I turn on the sprinkler. I wonder if the sun's too hot on our yard. I look closely at the dirt hoping for a sign of grass. (It's too soon but I look anyway.) I talk to the lawn. I pay homage to the Grass God. It's not like I don't have a million other things to do.
This morning, when I looked out at the yard I thought about the verse in the bible that talks about the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. I thought about all the empty fields around our home and the fact that they all have grass on them. I remember growing up with my dad and he going out once a week to cut the grass. I don't think I ever saw him plant grass seed. That's when I decided that growing grass wasn't such a big deal. Grass is gonna grow or it's not gonna grow. Grass has been around a heck of a lot longer than I have and it's done just fine. I'm gonna let it do it's own thing.
That attitude is one I am trying to cultivate in my personal life too. I do what I can and then I gotta leave it up to the universe. I've loved and nurtured my children. I written a children's book from my heart. I've made the choices of my life based on the best information I had at the time. Now I gotta let go. Life is gonna do what it's gonna do. Just like my front yard, I water myself with wisdom and truth. I plant myself in the fertile soil of love and care. I turn my face in the direction of the light and I let life grow me up.
Would you like to join me?
Have hope,
Donna
I live on Emerald Lane. It is a lovely little cul-de-sac in Upstate New York. One thing you will notice when you turn down Emerald Lane is the beautiful, lush, green, lawns. The people here take good care of their lawns. Some of my neighbors have lawn services and some of us take care of our own lawn. My husband and I fall into the second category.
When we moved into our home six years ago, the builder hired a lawn company to spray our dirt with a green covering. We were told to water it three times a day for three weeks and we did. Sure enough, a pretty lawn appeared. We fertilized and watched it grow. Our lawn belonged on Emerald Lane.
Then came the drought of 2005. July was particularly dry and our city enforced watering restrictions. We were very conscientious and obeyed the watering rules. Unfortunately for us, the sun was too intense on our front yard and we lost our lawn. We didn't worry too much, we figured we'd replant the next year.
Spring 2006 came and we ordered top soil. We spread thousands of cubic meters of dirt. We seeded and watered. Soon we had little grass "pubies." We were very proud. We fertilized and anticipated a lush, dark green lawn.
Three weeks later, my husband and I noticed a yellow green covering on our lawn. As the days went by the yellow green aura grew and grew. It took over our front lawn. It was crab grass. Our lawn was the only bright green lawn on the lane. In the fall, we raked up what we could and hoped for an early snow.
This spring, my husband and I had to deal with the desert patch in the front of our home. We got a myriad of opinions from different neighbors. We read Internet site after Internet site about crab grass, planting lawns and various products. We spent hours at the garden section at Lowe's discussing our options. Finally, this week we got to work. We raked and seeded and threw dirt over it and watered. We worked hard. Our neighbors walked by and gave us an encouraging word. We felt bolstered.
Now we wait. Each morning I turn on the sprinkler. I wonder if the sun's too hot on our yard. I look closely at the dirt hoping for a sign of grass. (It's too soon but I look anyway.) I talk to the lawn. I pay homage to the Grass God. It's not like I don't have a million other things to do.
This morning, when I looked out at the yard I thought about the verse in the bible that talks about the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. I thought about all the empty fields around our home and the fact that they all have grass on them. I remember growing up with my dad and he going out once a week to cut the grass. I don't think I ever saw him plant grass seed. That's when I decided that growing grass wasn't such a big deal. Grass is gonna grow or it's not gonna grow. Grass has been around a heck of a lot longer than I have and it's done just fine. I'm gonna let it do it's own thing.
That attitude is one I am trying to cultivate in my personal life too. I do what I can and then I gotta leave it up to the universe. I've loved and nurtured my children. I written a children's book from my heart. I've made the choices of my life based on the best information I had at the time. Now I gotta let go. Life is gonna do what it's gonna do. Just like my front yard, I water myself with wisdom and truth. I plant myself in the fertile soil of love and care. I turn my face in the direction of the light and I let life grow me up.
Would you like to join me?
Have hope,
Donna
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Shifting Lanes
Hello Again,
Have you ever sat still on a multi-lane highway with traffic back up for miles wondering whether you should shift lanes or stay put? Since I spend a significant part of my day driving, this dilemma comes up quite a bit. But, today's blog is not about traffic...it's about life.
I have an awesome cousin. Her name is Jonna. Jonna lives about five miles from my house. She is the only blood relative I have in the area. I love Jonna. My relationship with Jonna is like that of a sister...only closer. She and I went to high school together. She went to PT school in Buffalo, and I went to Troy. She created a private practice, and when I moved back to the area, I work at it. She is the most intelligent and personable woman I know. She has PT smarts and business smarts and people smarts. I admire her and look up to her very much. Well, yesterday, she told me that after almost twenty years in private practice she has decided to sell. She came to the conclusion that the business, and all that it requires, was too much for her and her family and it was time to "shift lanes." I've been there.
Four years ago, I "shifted lanes" too. I left my PT job in a school system after ten years. Making the decision was easy and hard. My job felt like I was sitting in traffic for a long time and I was feeling frustrated. In my job I "shifted lanes" occasionally by implementing different programs or going back to school to get more education. The end result though was that I still felt frustrated. I knew I couldn't sit in that lane much longer. Finally, I swallowed hard, listened to my heart and shifted into another lane on another highway. It was terrifying and liberating at the same time. Every time I worried or became fearful (and there were/are times like that) I breathed in, found the stillness within and kept driving.
Now, I do a little PT for the income and do writing for my heart. I have my first children's book coming out in the fall. I've a few more that I'm waiting to hear about from publishers. I've embarked on daily essay writing in this blog and I am working on a few other writing projects. This has been an adventure and one I'm glad I embarked upon.
Will Jonna survive her lane shift? Most definitely. Will she look back? Probably. But if I know her, she'll be elbow deep in something new and exciting very soon. I wish her the best...the very best. I am so proud of her. Who knows, maybe I'll see her shifting into my lane someday.
Jonna, I love ya.
Have Hope,
Donna
Have you ever sat still on a multi-lane highway with traffic back up for miles wondering whether you should shift lanes or stay put? Since I spend a significant part of my day driving, this dilemma comes up quite a bit. But, today's blog is not about traffic...it's about life.
I have an awesome cousin. Her name is Jonna. Jonna lives about five miles from my house. She is the only blood relative I have in the area. I love Jonna. My relationship with Jonna is like that of a sister...only closer. She and I went to high school together. She went to PT school in Buffalo, and I went to Troy. She created a private practice, and when I moved back to the area, I work at it. She is the most intelligent and personable woman I know. She has PT smarts and business smarts and people smarts. I admire her and look up to her very much. Well, yesterday, she told me that after almost twenty years in private practice she has decided to sell. She came to the conclusion that the business, and all that it requires, was too much for her and her family and it was time to "shift lanes." I've been there.
Four years ago, I "shifted lanes" too. I left my PT job in a school system after ten years. Making the decision was easy and hard. My job felt like I was sitting in traffic for a long time and I was feeling frustrated. In my job I "shifted lanes" occasionally by implementing different programs or going back to school to get more education. The end result though was that I still felt frustrated. I knew I couldn't sit in that lane much longer. Finally, I swallowed hard, listened to my heart and shifted into another lane on another highway. It was terrifying and liberating at the same time. Every time I worried or became fearful (and there were/are times like that) I breathed in, found the stillness within and kept driving.
Now, I do a little PT for the income and do writing for my heart. I have my first children's book coming out in the fall. I've a few more that I'm waiting to hear about from publishers. I've embarked on daily essay writing in this blog and I am working on a few other writing projects. This has been an adventure and one I'm glad I embarked upon.
Will Jonna survive her lane shift? Most definitely. Will she look back? Probably. But if I know her, she'll be elbow deep in something new and exciting very soon. I wish her the best...the very best. I am so proud of her. Who knows, maybe I'll see her shifting into my lane someday.
Jonna, I love ya.
Have Hope,
Donna
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Mother Goose Rocks
Hello there.
Today in my house it was a special day. My youngest child had his kindergarten, end of the year musical performance. Mother Goose Rocks. As the title suggested the children performed mother goose nursery rhymes to rock, blues and jazz music and added a little soft shoe to boot. As we were walking out the door, my 18 year-old daughter mentioned she had a music award assembly this evening. I was surprised to hear this because I hadn't gotten a letter from the school as I had in previous years. I said, "I'll be there." She mumbled, "You don't have to, it's not a big deal."
The whole day I pondered her statement. "...it's not a big deal." I thought back to when I was in high school. My dad came to everyone of my home softball games. He sat on the bench and watched and cheered. I sat on the bench too. Most of the games I was the B.W. (bench warmer). The only time the coach played me was when my dad showed up for the game. I sat on the bench until he walked down the field and took his place in the bleachers. And it never failed, the next inning, I was playing. That was a big deal.
When I was older, I took an adult tap dancing class. I had always wanted to tap dance. When I was going through my divorce, I decided to fulfill my desire and joined the class. There were me and three other "over 30 year-old" women trying to shuffle-step or buffalo hop. What fun we had. Then May came and we were forced to be in the recital. I wanted to dance, I didn't want to dance in front of people. But, I had no choice. So, I donned my gold sparkle pants and put on my black top had and tapped dance to "Tea for Two." And in the audience were my kids, my fiance, my Aunt Corky and my mom. Yup, it was a big deal.
Having someone supporting you makes a huge difference in how you see yourself and how you do your "shtick". Knowing that there is someone making an effort to sit in the audience or to read through your rough draft or to taste your new recipe makes doing your "whatever" all the more valuable. For me, it wasn't about how well I tapped or how great my dinner was it was about trying, achieving and being validated.
So, when my daughter told me it was her award night, I was there. It might not have felt like a big deal to her, but it sure was to me. I was a proud mama this morning watching my little red head son rock and roll to Jack Be Nimble and I was a proud mama this evening watching my beautiful daughter receive her music pin. It is important to support those special people in our lives.
I hope you have someone in your life that you can support, validate, and cheer for. To me, there's no such thing as "no big deal."
Gotta go,
Have hope,
Donna
Today in my house it was a special day. My youngest child had his kindergarten, end of the year musical performance. Mother Goose Rocks. As the title suggested the children performed mother goose nursery rhymes to rock, blues and jazz music and added a little soft shoe to boot. As we were walking out the door, my 18 year-old daughter mentioned she had a music award assembly this evening. I was surprised to hear this because I hadn't gotten a letter from the school as I had in previous years. I said, "I'll be there." She mumbled, "You don't have to, it's not a big deal."
The whole day I pondered her statement. "...it's not a big deal." I thought back to when I was in high school. My dad came to everyone of my home softball games. He sat on the bench and watched and cheered. I sat on the bench too. Most of the games I was the B.W. (bench warmer). The only time the coach played me was when my dad showed up for the game. I sat on the bench until he walked down the field and took his place in the bleachers. And it never failed, the next inning, I was playing. That was a big deal.
When I was older, I took an adult tap dancing class. I had always wanted to tap dance. When I was going through my divorce, I decided to fulfill my desire and joined the class. There were me and three other "over 30 year-old" women trying to shuffle-step or buffalo hop. What fun we had. Then May came and we were forced to be in the recital. I wanted to dance, I didn't want to dance in front of people. But, I had no choice. So, I donned my gold sparkle pants and put on my black top had and tapped dance to "Tea for Two." And in the audience were my kids, my fiance, my Aunt Corky and my mom. Yup, it was a big deal.
Having someone supporting you makes a huge difference in how you see yourself and how you do your "shtick". Knowing that there is someone making an effort to sit in the audience or to read through your rough draft or to taste your new recipe makes doing your "whatever" all the more valuable. For me, it wasn't about how well I tapped or how great my dinner was it was about trying, achieving and being validated.
So, when my daughter told me it was her award night, I was there. It might not have felt like a big deal to her, but it sure was to me. I was a proud mama this morning watching my little red head son rock and roll to Jack Be Nimble and I was a proud mama this evening watching my beautiful daughter receive her music pin. It is important to support those special people in our lives.
I hope you have someone in your life that you can support, validate, and cheer for. To me, there's no such thing as "no big deal."
Gotta go,
Have hope,
Donna
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Weathered or Seasoned
Hello again....
I love looking at houses. My job takes me to people's homes in the county where I live. I am on the country and city roads 50 miles a day. I enjoy the drive most days. I especially like looking at the different houses that line the roads. I like to look at the overall design of the house, how it sits on the property, the lawn and landscaping. I imagine the age of the house and what the history of the house is or the stories of the people who have lived in the houses. Sometimes I get lucky and the person I am supposed to take care of happens to live in a house I find particularly interesting.
One aspect of the house I like to observe is the outside covering. Is it vinyl or cedar? Are there shingles or stucco? Is it weathered or worn? Some of the most interesting houses I've seen have cedar shingles that have faded in color as they aged. That in itself isn't a bad trait in a house. In fact, if the windows are in tact and the landscaping kept up the weathered look actually adds character to the house. And character is what defines the essence of the house.
In my life, I've had numerous opportunities to experience events that have caused me to become a bit...weathered. The rigors of life, marriage, children, and career make life interesting and full. Throw in a brain tumor diagnosis in your six year old son, a separation and eventual divorce four years later and starting over and you become the prime candidate for weathering on the outside. Lucky for me, I listened to my inner voice and used its guidance to turn the "weathering events" into "seasoning."
My inner voice, the inner feeling that validated that I was heading in the best direction for me (and my kids) gave me the ability to take the bumps and pot holes and turn them into a flavorful experience. I opened myself up to the possibilities that the problem or pain, the unknown or darkness, I was experiencing were actually beneficial. Self-reliance, new abilities, encouraging words from people, the inner knowing became wonderful seeds that grew and blossomed into fragrant lessons I carry with me to this day. Most of the time, I don't even realize that they are growing out of my essence until someone says flippantly, "Oh Donna, she's strong" or "Tell Donna about it, she'll figure something out." I get amazed by people's comments.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that life will blow at you and batter you a bit. You may look worn and feel run down at times, but if you believe, have hope, you can weather the storms. You can let the storms of life build character around your structure or blow it apart. It's your choice. Maybe your shingles will fade on the outside but deep inside the storms water the seeds that add the spice, the seasoning, the stuff that makes your essence shine out of you. Be open to the journey. We owe it to ourselves...and the world.
Have hope,
Donna
I love looking at houses. My job takes me to people's homes in the county where I live. I am on the country and city roads 50 miles a day. I enjoy the drive most days. I especially like looking at the different houses that line the roads. I like to look at the overall design of the house, how it sits on the property, the lawn and landscaping. I imagine the age of the house and what the history of the house is or the stories of the people who have lived in the houses. Sometimes I get lucky and the person I am supposed to take care of happens to live in a house I find particularly interesting.
One aspect of the house I like to observe is the outside covering. Is it vinyl or cedar? Are there shingles or stucco? Is it weathered or worn? Some of the most interesting houses I've seen have cedar shingles that have faded in color as they aged. That in itself isn't a bad trait in a house. In fact, if the windows are in tact and the landscaping kept up the weathered look actually adds character to the house. And character is what defines the essence of the house.
In my life, I've had numerous opportunities to experience events that have caused me to become a bit...weathered. The rigors of life, marriage, children, and career make life interesting and full. Throw in a brain tumor diagnosis in your six year old son, a separation and eventual divorce four years later and starting over and you become the prime candidate for weathering on the outside. Lucky for me, I listened to my inner voice and used its guidance to turn the "weathering events" into "seasoning."
My inner voice, the inner feeling that validated that I was heading in the best direction for me (and my kids) gave me the ability to take the bumps and pot holes and turn them into a flavorful experience. I opened myself up to the possibilities that the problem or pain, the unknown or darkness, I was experiencing were actually beneficial. Self-reliance, new abilities, encouraging words from people, the inner knowing became wonderful seeds that grew and blossomed into fragrant lessons I carry with me to this day. Most of the time, I don't even realize that they are growing out of my essence until someone says flippantly, "Oh Donna, she's strong" or "Tell Donna about it, she'll figure something out." I get amazed by people's comments.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that life will blow at you and batter you a bit. You may look worn and feel run down at times, but if you believe, have hope, you can weather the storms. You can let the storms of life build character around your structure or blow it apart. It's your choice. Maybe your shingles will fade on the outside but deep inside the storms water the seeds that add the spice, the seasoning, the stuff that makes your essence shine out of you. Be open to the journey. We owe it to ourselves...and the world.
Have hope,
Donna
Monday, June 4, 2007
Ready, Set, Go
Monday, June 4, 2007
Hello, I'm glad you've chosen to read my first entry of my blog. This whole experience feels rather weird for me; typing my thoughts and posting them for others to read. So why am I doing it? In short, my publisher told me it was time. So on her advice, I begin. (Thanks Jennifer.)
Hope In Your Heart, is my attempt to tell those willing to read, my deepest thoughts about life and living. Everyone has a story. Every story has a lesson. My lesson is ongoing.
A little background seems in order for this blog to start rolling. I'm a woman, 46 years old. I live in Upstate New York. I hate the cold but love the humid, hot summers. I think that's because I have Mediterranean blood in me. My extended family lives in NYS so that's why I'm here. I don't live close to my mom and dad and my three sisters but I try to make contact with them often. Professionally, I work as a physical therapist. It's a nice profession and allows me to be compassionate and kind while earning a living. That's a good thing. I'm married (my second). I have four children. My eldest is 21, my youngest 5. I've two boys and two girls. My family is terrific. My husband teaches elementary school and has the patience of a saint. My eldest son is my life lesson, surviving a brain tumor at age six. My eldest daughter, 20, is spunky and outspoken. She's always got a cause she is fighting for. My youngest daughter, 18, is creative and silly. Her head is in the clouds most days. My littlest boy is my other life lesson.
Everyday I do normal everyday things. I like doing everyday things. I think about famous people and I think, they do normal everyday things too. Think about it, Oprah or Julia Roberts or Hillary Clinton, do everyday things. We brush our teeth, talk on the phone and wipe down the counter after we finish making something to eat. We are all the same. Seems like so much of what is shoved at us in the media is aimed at showing us how different we are. How one culture values one thing and another culture values the opposite. In some ways, the images can make one feel unrest. The reality is "we are all the same." We all have basic things we do everyday. Why is it so hard to build bridges?
Well, in the coming days and weeks, I'll share bits and pieces of my thoughts and hopes. I'll tell you about my family and my life. I'll especially share the excitement surrounding my first children's book being published. My book, I Love You with My Heart, is a picture book that reflects my idea of how much we all love the little one's placed in our care. It is an international approach to the simple idea of "we are all the same."
Until then....have hope.
Donna
Hello, I'm glad you've chosen to read my first entry of my blog. This whole experience feels rather weird for me; typing my thoughts and posting them for others to read. So why am I doing it? In short, my publisher told me it was time. So on her advice, I begin. (Thanks Jennifer.)
Hope In Your Heart, is my attempt to tell those willing to read, my deepest thoughts about life and living. Everyone has a story. Every story has a lesson. My lesson is ongoing.
A little background seems in order for this blog to start rolling. I'm a woman, 46 years old. I live in Upstate New York. I hate the cold but love the humid, hot summers. I think that's because I have Mediterranean blood in me. My extended family lives in NYS so that's why I'm here. I don't live close to my mom and dad and my three sisters but I try to make contact with them often. Professionally, I work as a physical therapist. It's a nice profession and allows me to be compassionate and kind while earning a living. That's a good thing. I'm married (my second). I have four children. My eldest is 21, my youngest 5. I've two boys and two girls. My family is terrific. My husband teaches elementary school and has the patience of a saint. My eldest son is my life lesson, surviving a brain tumor at age six. My eldest daughter, 20, is spunky and outspoken. She's always got a cause she is fighting for. My youngest daughter, 18, is creative and silly. Her head is in the clouds most days. My littlest boy is my other life lesson.
Everyday I do normal everyday things. I like doing everyday things. I think about famous people and I think, they do normal everyday things too. Think about it, Oprah or Julia Roberts or Hillary Clinton, do everyday things. We brush our teeth, talk on the phone and wipe down the counter after we finish making something to eat. We are all the same. Seems like so much of what is shoved at us in the media is aimed at showing us how different we are. How one culture values one thing and another culture values the opposite. In some ways, the images can make one feel unrest. The reality is "we are all the same." We all have basic things we do everyday. Why is it so hard to build bridges?
Well, in the coming days and weeks, I'll share bits and pieces of my thoughts and hopes. I'll tell you about my family and my life. I'll especially share the excitement surrounding my first children's book being published. My book, I Love You with My Heart, is a picture book that reflects my idea of how much we all love the little one's placed in our care. It is an international approach to the simple idea of "we are all the same."
Until then....have hope.
Donna
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