If I’m in the sandwich generation, these are the pieces of bread that hold me together.
This is therapy. This is me just spilling it all out, like the contents in an oft-used yet rarely cleaned purse. I’m going through some heavy stuff at the moment, and I need to get it all out there before trying to put it back neatly in place. I remember my mom doing just this with her sensible leather purses. Always the same style. Long strap, multiple pockets, some neutral shade like black, taupe or navy blue. Every so often, she’d pull all the contents out onto our long dining room table, and I’d watch with fascination as she sorted things into piles. The lipstick, nail file, loose change, wadded up tissues, checkbook, and other items of her daily …
I’d like to tell you a story. A story about two friends. They’re young, maybe 21 or 22. One’s name is Steve, the other, Marcus.
Marcus is outgoing and known to be a frequent party-goer and very generous. He’s often willing to give his friends money, or buy everyone a round at their favorite dive bar. Behind his back, he’s sometimes called a “sucker.” He knows some people say these things, but he tries not to let it bother him. It’s his money, and he can do with it what he wants.
Steve seems to be a good guy and has a lot of friends. He holds a good job and doesn’t seem to ruffle too many feathers.
One night at the bar, Steve runs into a problem. He’s forgotten his wallet. Noticing his friend’s plight, Marcus offers …
This may be hard to believe, but when I was a young child, I didn’t like cheese. Wait, what? What kind of kid turns their nose up at grilled cheese, cheeseburgers, and the coveted mac & cheese? This kid. I hated it. Gagged at the thought. I even remember a time when a babysitter fixed me a cheese and mayonnaise sandwich, which I refused to eat. I threw it in the trash, and GET THIS, she retrieved it out and made me eat it anyway! I still remember the taste of Miracle Whip and sliced American filling my mouth as I fought the urge to hurl it all back up. Ick!
But somewhere along the way, I actually came across some good cheese. Some real cheese, not that nasty, processed, fake yellow stuff. That somewhere was my grandparent’s home at …
We fought her, and then we fought FOR her. She’s amazing. She’s brave. And I don’t deserve her.
Brave. Not a word I would have used to describe my oldest daughter only six months ago. With a mental disposition much like me, I feared she would follow in my anxiety-laced footsteps. Her fear made me fearful. My nerves made her nervous. We’re a sometimes-challenging duo, her and I.
You see, I don’t want her to be like me. I want her to run through the sprinklers of life instead of skirting the edges. I want her to be Ria. I want her to live with less fear, but I know she’ll never be completely free of anxiety’s bonds. Or will she? Will she break free of the walls within own mind…and mine? …
Petite powerhouse Miranda Lambert could have just about anything she wants. She’s got the talent, the money, the connections and the partner to make it happen. But when she decided to open a bed & breakfast in tiny Tishomingo, OK (it’s still twice as big as my town), she didn’t draw up plans for new construction with an architect. She didn’t scout out a location with the best parking. She didn’t build a marquee with her name in lights. Instead, she found an old building directly across from The Pink Pistol, her eclectic boutique. She created a space where the old is given new life, details mean everything, and glitz and grit live together in perfect, delicious harmony. Her heart and soul were poured into its walls, textures, and colors, creating the jewel …
I want my daughter to know that fishing should be enjoyed no matter your attire. Except I did encourage her to wear jeans and boots for practicality. 🙂
Sometimes, a single image can spark a week-long stream of thought and argument in my easily excited mind. I’ll ruminate on the subject, argue with myself, cheer myself on, put myself down, and finally, it all builds until it spills out as a blog post. This time, it was this image which showed up in my Instagram feed from an outdoor clothing company I follow, Back Country Native.
Now, I want to make it completely clear I have NO beef with this company. I’m all for encouraging women to get get outdoors and if they want to look all dolled up while doing it? More power …