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Las Vegas, Nevada, United States
"No, really!"

My Favorite Bit of Paper Cup Philosophy

The Way I See It #76

The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating - in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.

Friday, August 14, 2009

You're Invited

. . . to an end of summer / birthday blogger's coffee at Limes' place. Those who would like a shot of Bailey's or Kahlua in it, shall have it. I will not being having shots. Dylan will be on the sofa ready to shed his white fur on those who wear dark clothing. Virginia Woolf will echo-locate those of you wearing pastels. The soundtrack will be the Badger's latest personal mix. Be prepared to enjoy that! I'll burn candles in my stained glass stars and we'll just t-a-l-k . . . .

This has been a most wonderful summer. I discovered blogging and it has done me good. Writing is cathartic and exercises my brain, heart and soul. The Badger has taken some of his most compelling photos ever, and we are excited that each of us has successfully placed some of them for show and sale in bookstores. Mother Badger has repeatedly rung in about our blogs and has a little potential project up her sleeve. I have a new friend I enjoy. A lovely outing is planned next weekend (more on that in a future post), but it will decidedly mark summer's end and the beginning of the year that comes after. I mark years as January to December, but also as birthday to birthday.

I am a teacher magnet, as in: drop me into a room of 100 people and all the teachers find me and I them. Hence, several bloggers I follow are about to end their summer, return to work . . . my birthday looms in a few days and it has always marked "end of summer, start of school . . . " Endings make me pensive and introspective. I'm not all that thrilled this year to have the odomoeter flip again. It's not a milestone birthday. I still have a ways to go until 60. But a broken odometer, my age frozen in time, would be OK enough with me.

So, were we 'tend friends actually in a room together, here are some of the things I would say:

Tree, the Badger and I are having a (100% friendly) disagreement about the existence of a particular photo and its title. I feel so sure of myself. But he's so meticulous about maintaining his portfolio, that I'm a little concerned. I'm transitioning from one computer to another, so I can't currently get to the photo I'm certain exists and with the title I know so well. I'm good in a pinch, however, and have a lovely substitute photo. Your words that caused me to land on a vivid image were " . . the economy of the thorned heart . . ".



OB, I loved what you had to say about Plan Left and Plan Right rather than Plan A or Plan B. It's not hard to choose between a good decision and a bad decision. That's not even decision-making, but simply selecting something comfortable over something painful. We engage more, the stakes are higher, when the choices are a little fuzzy around the edges . . . not so sharply defined. Although I am normally a very decisive person, I can sure dance around making a decision when I'm torn. I wish you good luck. I hope you'll be happy with the decision you land on.

Mother Badger, I hope - sincerely - that you move forward with the project you e-mailed me about. Do it while you've still got the goods! It will be your legacy, just as you mused about blogs being our history in the future. Put down your history! You have some stories to tell. I mean this, truly. If I spent half a day with you, you'd be on the road. And you can do it in comfort and air conditioning. Your sons and grandchildren and all of us who are fond of you are waiting. By the way, I know you won't want coffee. I'll have skim milk or a beer or wine or diet Pepsi for you.

Doozyanner, I keyed in immediately when I started to follow you and you made references to elephants in the room, family elephants, rotting elephant carcasses. More recently you've said "ginormous elephant" and I believe I understand that, as well. I hail from a huge extended family and I think it is fair to say that we put the funk in dysfunctional. The part of that which intrigues me is this: some of us revel in our dysfunction. "Yep, we're a mess and it's OK enough for me." Others of us run screaming. Who handles it better, the complacent or the runners? Who would we ask?

New blogger Dan, I liked what you had to say about asking for help for things we don't even want to learn how to do. I've finally accepted that I don't have to know how to do everything well, I don't want to know how to do everything well, and I don't do everything well. "So ask somebody for assistance, Limes. And offer what you can to others." Although I can grouse about it, I really sort of like my age. I'm comfortable in my skin for the first time in my life. So you're 100% correct - as long as the health holds, it's good from here on out. Thanks for boarding my bus! Looking forward to following you on "The Rest of My Life".

Wheel Dancer, you are most interesting to me. You write lengthy technical pieces about all things cycling. You are beautifully poetic from time to time. But your posts I enjoy the most are those with few words that tell a complex story, colored and shaded. I admire - I envy - the efficient beauty of that economy of words. I don't have that.



TRW, where in the world are you? Woman, if you don't report in soon, I'm sending out an SOS. There's a party going on! Be there. When you ever get home, your mailbox will be filled with girlfriend offerings. I've visited the post office drop box almost every night!



David, Michele and the home dudes, it wouldn't be a party without you. And when the guests spill their coffee with shots, we can pop out the protein spotter and put on a little demonstration. I'm kidding! Please come to my little party.




Badger, you know I'm going to ask you to take good pics of the event. And I'll surely ask you to help me keep enough coffee beans ground and cups filled and conversation going and napkins in everyone's lap, pass the crudite tray and slices of Milky Way cake. Push Dylan off the sofa and absentmindedly stroke VW when she head-butts you for attention . . . It's been a good year, Badger, dating from almost exactly one year ago ~ you remember the event. It's a good time to give an imaginary party and get ready to watch the next year unfold.

Limes, note to self: it has been a good year. Think of all the steps taken forward. Think of all the changes. Think of all the fear a year ago. Think of the words most recently shared with someone special. "I have ____, and I have ____, and I have my marathon training and I have my blog." The next year will start out in the geographical location where the last one started, in the same company, in the same pursuit. And it will be an even better year. More advances made. That marathon will happen in the new year. The continued exercise of healthy new habits . . . . . .

So, 'tend friends, please send me your RSVP!

In my ears right now: Pink - "I'm comin' up, so you'd better get this party started . . . . ."

Something that charmed me: I've been blogging for 77 days when this publishes. There's a whole culture sprung up around it for me. Certain snippets of knowledge about a number of really fine people. This was a good thing to do!

Photo credit - "My Prickly Heart" - J. D. Morehouse
Photo credit - Limes on August 7, 2009 - J. D. Morehouse


10 comments:

  1. I'm not sure I should make any remarks about Mother Badger's picture, I know how she hates to be photographed! She looks so young in that picture, though. It brings back memories.

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  2. Well, since I've only known her with a completely silver pelt, that youthful picture seems a bit out of synch to me. Probably you and the other youthful badgers are the cause for her silvery pelt! Setting out on the cross-Erie journey at age 2, going into the hardware store naked, sliding out of the back seat of the Badgermobile into the intersection, Youngest Badger hanging from the second story, his pajamas snagged on a nail . . . yes, a female badger's pelt WOULD fade.

    So how about your RSVP, Badger? You going to help me throw this shindig?

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  3. Limes, a tip of the hat and a {clink} for good measure. :-)

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  4. {Clink} At this hour it should be bloody Marys or a mimosa, I think.

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  5. I MISSED YOUR PARTY?!? I'm so sorry!

    I was off in my own world and running most of the day and eve --barely even looked at the computer yesterday. Congratulations on a great year, and here's to another...but I refuse to join-in the marking of the end of summer. Instead, I'll look up one late frazzled September day realizing it's gone without me giving it a proper good-bye. As it should be. Going separate ways is always difficult, and it's better that Summer disappear without saying anything.

    My sincere wishes for a wonderful birthday!

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  6. Nope, OB, it's still in the future, and thanks for being whimsical with me! Truly. It happens when it happens. And now we ALL know why my 3-year-old had 'tend friends, right? It's in the DNA! Stay tuned. Much will be shown this week and next weekend. I'm not going to ever forget that you were the first to ring in: "Limes, you don't need to have walked a marathon before walking a marathon, but you need to have a good long walk under your belt." Yours truly, with gratitude: Limes Now/Leslie Morgan

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  7. Limes, I missed this post somehow--I must have been off galivanting to see Joan Baez. Elephants...hmmm...I've been doing some thinking about that particular topic, and a conversation with my son gave me some much needed clarity. I'm so much more than the elephant in the room, and won't be bringing him with me to your party. Cheers!

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  8. Oh,

    I would be delighted to come to your party. It is the time of year to begin to celebrate all our Libra Friends birthdays as well as your Virgo birthday. What kind of cake should I make you and what kind of frosting? For me to drink- a nice champagne with which to toast a year well done. Pun intended.

    T

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  9. Ha! No cake, no frosting for me ~ I can't do it. But I'd happily take cucumbers. I've got the vinegar and sea salt to be ground upon them. [Reference to obsessive-compulsive behavior: every morning at 10:00 a.m., I eat cucumbers. You can set your clock by it, and some people DO. "Must be 10:00, I smell cucumbers."] Champagne is a good idea - toasting is good. And speaking of well done, I'm just done. Stick a fork in me.

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  10. Doozy, that was the day Blogger was messing up so badly. My new post didn't propagate to the followers blogs. Speaking of Blogger, have I mentioned I like things that WORK? My frustation with it yesterday made me almost throw in the towel and stop being a blogging slacker. I thought better of that, but it sure has its weaknesses.

    Thank you for leaving your elephant behind. My place is kind of small! And I need to say that I'm at least clear-headed enough to know that I'm also part pachyderm. I know I always need to include the question, "What's my part in this?"

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