Notes From a Week Away

It feels strange sitting here in front of my computer again. It’s been a solid week since I have sat here, my fingers on the keyboard. It’s good to take breaks sometimes – a needed pause to restore and a break in the routine.

But it also feels good to be back. After all, I like my routine:)

Between the cold that hijacked my body midweek and the cobwebs of vacation brain, I’m filled with snippets of the past week. They are not yet ripened into stand alone blog posts (although I’m sure some of them will after proper fermentation), so for now they are simply notes from a week away.

Endings

My last post was about the health and future of Ms Kitty. We found out last Sunday that she is indeed in early stage kidney failure. We are currently working on trying to get her to eat a special lower protein diet that will help to extend her life. It hard – she doesn’t want to eat and I see her getting sicker every day. She may have weeks or months, but the clock is winding down. Meanwhile, we try to enjoy every moment we can have with her.

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Maddy and daddy

That Reminds Me

Trying to tempt the cat to eat reminds me of the year I lived with my friend and her new baby. The little one was premature and had digestive problems. Our days that summer were spent trying to drip formula into her mouth one mL at a time. That sick baby is now a robust 4 1/2 year old. I spent last Saturday with them and the not-so-little one kept the laughter flowing and helped distract me from kitty.

I can SO embarrass her with this one when she starts dating!
I can SO embarrass her with this one when she starts dating!

Speaking of Distraction

I jumped on a plane Sunday morning to meet up with a childhood friend in New Orleans after 15 years without contact. I don’t think I’ve ever hugged anybody so hard:) We picked up right where we left off. We stayed at the Melrose Mansion, a renovated old house just east of the quarter. My friend even managed to score us a free room upgrade with a bathtub as large as my entire bathroom at home!

The early bird gets the tub!
The early bird gets the tub!

We were pretty tame as far as New Orleans is concerned (i.e. we only saw Bourbon St. at 8 in the morning!). Some of that was due to the weather (cold and raining) and some due to the fact that we’re old and lame:) Apart from long conversations and giggles in bed (I told you we picked up where we left off!), we also visited a cool choose-your-own-adventure wine bar and an adult arcade where we could feel like kids again!

Wine Institute of New Orleans - Where the coursework requires a wine glass:)
Wine Institute of New Orleans – Where the coursework requires a wine glass:)
I went for the the pinball games, which were always my best, while my friend went for Ms. Pacman and Frogger. Just like the old days!
I went for the pinball games, which were always my best, while my friend went for Ms. Pacman and Frogger. Just like the old days!

Rain, Rain Go Away

The weather in New Orleans was a bit of a bummer (the heated swimming pool had to go untested), but it really through a wrench in the plans once I returned home. Brock and I were supposed to leave Wednesday morning for a three night camping trip at Cheaha State Park in northeastern Alabama. Except the forecast called for snow, ice and wind, oh my. And no thanks. Basically, it was guaranteed to be a miserable trip with a decent chance of it becoming a live action version of some of our favorite survival shows. We reluctantly decided to axe the idea of camping and substitute two day hikes instead. Our first outing was Red Top Mountain State Park on Thanksgiving. The fresh air and warm sun felt so good.

Tiger protecting us from the infamous Red Top Monster. I'm happy to report that we all escaped unscathed.
Tiger protecting us from the infamous Red Top Monster. I’m happy to report that we all escaped unscathed.

Yesterday, we decided to go to Cheaha for the day. Brock used to rock climb here and he enjoyed showing me the cliffs he used to climb. Usually, we plan our hikes carefully. This time, we approached it like an adventure. The destination was unimportant (in fact, it was nonexistent). It was all about the journey.

A Black Friday that reminds you that what really matters cannot be bought or sold:)
A Black Friday that reminds you that what really matters cannot be bought or sold:)

I’ve never been to that part of the state and I was struck by how much the soil and vegetation reminded me of Texas – just MUCH more mountainous! We only hiked 6 miles or so but I think our elevation change was at least that much.

Tiger also enjoyed the views.
Tiger also enjoyed the views.

Uphill Climbs

We weren’t the only ones facing uphill climbs this week. We visited with two friends who are both in the early stages of starting over after divorce. One is living with her mom with her three kids. The other is in a rented space whose empty rooms speak to the life left behind. It was a stark reminder of where I was just a few short years ago. Of how thankful I was for the small guest bedroom that was my home for a year. At how empowering it was to rent my own space for the first time. At the possibilities presented when you start over.

The last step of every journey is the first step of a new adventure.

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Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving whatever your adventures:)

Saying “Yes”

Several weeks ago I let myself get down about my upcoming summer. I was in the midst of the end of school year crazies and a planned camping trip had to be canceled (along with several other weekends worth of activities) due to the constant rain that drenched Atlanta this past spring. I felt like I had nothing to look forward to this summer and all I could envision was hours spent working in front of the computer (which was pretty much how I spent last summer while finishing the book!). I allowed myself to be grouchy about the whole situation and found myself grumbling about the adventures that others had planned. Not exactly an attractive mood nor one that is likely to improve my outlook.

All I can say is that it is amazing what a different a few weeks and some awesome people can make. Well, that and some actual sunshine!

It started with my mom coming to my rescue after my whiny post. I had already booked a trip to San Antonio to see her in June but she knew that I needed more of a “vacation” feel than just visiting my hometown. She and our close family friend, Kay, worked to book a trip to the gulf coast while I’m in Texas. Not only is this precious beach time (Atlanta is pretty landlocked!) but it’s also a rare opportunity for the three of us to be together. For most of my latter childhood, it was just my mom and I. Well, two people, especially when one is a hormonal teenager, alone can get to be a bit much. Kay was frequently added to our family. She is like a sister to my mom and a cool aunt to me. She brought in needed energy and helped to mediate between my mom and me when it was needed. The last time we were together was two years ago when I last visited Texas. We went on a tour of various Hill Country Wineries. We sampled jalapeno wine, nicknamed a miniature donkey outside a wine tasting room a “burrito” and laughed more than is socially acceptable. All I can say is that Texas better watch out for this go round:)

Sardinian Miniature Donkey, Kew Gardens.
Sardinian Miniature Donkey, Kew Gardens. (Photo credit: Jim Linwood)

Just having that coast trip on the horizon to look forward to was enough to break my funk. Sometimes it’s amazing how much of an impact a small adjustment can make. Just knowing how three days of my summer were to be spent made me see the entire expanse in a different light.  I hope I can remember that lesson next time.

In the span of a few weeks, this has gone from a summer that I dreaded would be monotonous to one that is full of reconnection with my past and new adventures. And all I’ve had to do is say, “yes” to the opportunities that resented themselves. I’m reconnecting with old friends and teammates in Atlanta as we take advantage of the opportunity to leisurely lunch without cafeterias full of kids. I’m meeting up with my old boss and friend in San Antonio whose family adopted me for many holidays and birthday celebrations (he and his wife are two of my love mentors).  I’m going to see Austin and Lake Travis (where I spent some time in college) from a new angle as I zipline over the lake (thanks to Kay!). And Brock and I will be returning to St. Marys (where we first talked marriage last summer:) ) to stay with our friends (and other love mentors) there.

Yippee!!!

On a more emotional front, I’m going to visit the youngest dog from my former life, who was adopted by a friend’s parents and now lives on a farm in Alabama. I’m excited about this, but also nervous, as I have not seen her (or any of the dogs, for that matter) since that life ended four years ago. I think tears will be guaranteed.

Glottis
Glottis

On the new front, I spent yesterday tubing with a new group of friends. I will be going skydiving for the first time with another group of friends once I return from Texas (assuming I live through the ziplining!). I have my first girl’s weekend of my life in Tybee Island at the end of the month with an impressive group of women, only one of whom I really know.

I’ve gone from feeling grumpy to feeling grateful (and delightfully nervous about the sky high adventures!). I feel so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such amazing people.

I feel like I’ve reversed my 20s and 30s in many ways. While touring a new friend’s college campus yesterday, it really struck me how I never did my 20s. I went to school, yet only lived the campus life for one year and even then, I was the one who would make all of the 8:00 am classes on time and would get annoyed when spontaneous parties broke out in the house. The rest of my college experience was spent working and going to school, often commuting quite a ways to reach the campus. Through all of that, I was with my ex. I never dated in my 20s. We bought a fixer-upper house at 22 and I was more concerned with the best toilet gasket to buy than finding the best blues and brews bar in town. I had friends but work and/or school was always my bigger priority. I stayed busy with occasional binges of fun, usually while on vacation.

Now, solidly in my 30s, my life has shifted. I now put more effort into finding, creating and maintaining relationships. I’ve learned that there is value in relationships and that time spent cultivating them is time well invested. I make sure fun is on the to-do list (and apparently get grumpy when it is absent!). At a time when many of peers are settling down and leaving the craziness of their 20s behind, I am welcoming some of that craziness into my own life and not just on vacation.

I don’t regret not living the life of the typical twenty something. I was happy with my choices. But there’s no rule that says that life has to take some predetermined path. That the 20s are about finding yourself and fun and the 30s are about settling down and getting serious. Besides, I’ve always found that I enjoy play more after the hard work has been done. I’m just getting better and sprinkling the play into the long sessions of work.

I feel silly now that I let myself get down. That I allowed myself to wallow in self pity. I may not have the finds that my student’s families do that allow elaborate vacations. I may not have the big family that rents a beach house for a month every year. But I have what I need and I have amazing people around me that remind me every day about what is important and make me aware of how rich my life is. My grumpiness has been replaced with gratitude and excitement (and a little healthy fear!).

It’s okay to have fun. It’s okay to set work aside for awhile. It’s okay to create things to look forward to. It’s okay to say “yes.”

And if you hear any screams coming from South Texas this week, don’t worry; It’s only me going down the zipline:)

 

A Beautiful Day of Contrast

A Road Re-traveled

The particular stretch of interstate 20 between Alabama and Georgia bookended my marriage.  In our early years, we traveled the road when we moved from Texas to Georgia.  We packed our entire lives into a 15 foot Ryder truck.  I sat crammed in the front seat, the cat, drugged into slumber, in her crate under my feet and our pug sitting on my lap, barking at every overpass.  We were young, overjoyed to be reunited after 7 months apart, and filled with excitement over our future.  We made most of the journey in one 22 hour push (slow going thanks to the governor on the truck and the car towed behind).   We finally stopped for a brief respite at the Alabama-Georgia border, stealing a few hours of sleep while we waited for the Atlanta traffic to clear.

The next time I traveled on I-20, my marriage was over and I was undertaking a journey to place one of its innocent victims, our youngest dog, with new owners.  The tone of that drive was very different; I still had a dog on my lap, but this time it was one I was saying goodbye to.  We made the transfer at the same rest station where my husband-to-be and I had stopped 11 years prior.  The same welcome center that greeted my married life signaled the loss of the same.

Today, I traveled that highway for a third time.  Today, the road held no particular meaning.  Today, the rest stop simply was a place to stretch and get a drink.  Today, the road carried me not into a new life, but simply to a new city for a weekend.  A city that is as filled with contrasts as that road was for me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twin Tables

My first stop upon entering Birmingham was the botanical gardens.  I was immediately smitten with the naturalistic eye of the designers.  Unlike the Atlanta gardens, this park is not filled with carefully cultivated and perfectly placed plants.  The herbaceous growth was allowed to get a little wild, to grow unrestrained in places.  It was a delight to see the freely spreading phlox and trilliums ignoring the boundaries, coloring outside the lines.

I grinned in delight as I entered the fern grotto.  Ferns have always been one of my favorite plants, they seem to lower the air temperature 10 degrees simply with their presence and they always fill me with a sense of calm and peace.  On the bridge, overlooking the ferns, I met an elderly gentleman who visited the park every day.  He had lived in Birmingham his entire life and told me stories of the area and of the garden while he led me on my own impromptu tour of the park.

We came upon a large stone table.  He mentioned that this was his gratitude table and that every time he passed it, he paused to give thanks.  I was surprised to hear this from him, as he seemed to be a stoic southern man of a certain generation, who does not speak of this such as emotion.  He then proceeded to shock me further by describing an encounter he had one day at that table.  While he was giving thanks, a young nun in a full habit came up.  They entered into conversation and he mentioned his view of the table.  She laughed, and said that she had always viewed the table as a sacrificial altar where she would pause to surrender.  One table, two views.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Civil Rights & Hillbillies

In the city center and the art museum, there were signs everywhere of the city’s complicated past with human rights and desegregation.  Based upon this, I expected to find a city still stuck in the Old South.  Although I have seen elements of that, I have also been surprised at the liberal side of the city bleeding through the fabric of tradition.  I stumbled upon a lovely St. Patrick’s Day parade in the Five Points neighborhood.  It had a small town charm, with the requisite cars full of the city’s young beauties and not-so-young makers and shakers and waving at the crowd.  I roared with laughter when an Old Alabama truck came by, complete with a character straight out of the Beverly Hillbillies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My laughter was soon swallowed in shock as I realized that an exuberant drag queen was prancing behind the pickup truck, followed by Birmingham’s very own gay pride group.  The crowd’s cheers grew even loader.  My jaw dropped even lower.  This is certainly not the old South.  The civil rights movement here continues on…

Celtic Southern Vegans

I plan to end my lovely day with some further contrasts.  I am going to hear Celtic music at a vegan/vegetarian venue in this Southern town.  I can’t wait to see what I find next…

Days like this remind me that life cannot be neatly categorized.  People and places are neither black nor white, but exist in the spaces between.  It is another reminder to let go of expectations and see the world with wide-eyed wonder.