Breathe

July 3rd, 2010 by Cheryl Courtney

Breathe.

Easier said than done when your heart is filled with trepidation; when every thing you have worked for has vaporized and there is no job, no hope of earning enough to pay the mortgage and are facing foreclosure. I know three women, ages 40 or over, that are dealing with this.

Last week, a neighbor was evicted from her home of 35 years. She is mentally ill, not adequately medicated, and is a ìrevolving door patientîódifficult for her family and professionals to manage. She was out in the driveway, muttering and weeping to herself as she attempted to sort the piles that the eviction moving team had left of her home. Here were her bookcases, there were her clothes, and somewhere in the maelstrom was the food from her cupboards. We tried to usher her into a local shelter, but she announced that she was going to sleep out there to keep away the thieves. I watched her make a nest†in the†laundry as her cats curled up†beside her.

Every homeless woman, man, child, or family starts this wayóevicted, alone, stuff in piles and no where to go, no more medication or resources to call upon. This was quite frightening to me. "But for the Grace of God went I" or every other person I have met this year at the Larimer County Workforce Center classes.

Breathe. Try to remember that you are working, that you are helping friends every way you can with job leads and supportive conversation. Hope will prevail. But, breathing in the face of that †womanís hopelessness is hard.

She eventually rounded up the most dear treasures and staples, and left the rest on the driveway. Yesterday, the bank sent another crew to pick it all up and put the dregs into a† bin. She was not there; I truly donít know where she is. SomewhereÖin Loveland. Starting over? Alone, dying? Frightened? Mad? Drenched? Hurt? Homeless.

I find myself breathing, with tears streaming down my face.

Breathe. Cry awhile. Breathe, again.

Posted in Cheryl Courtney, Writer, Gratitude, homelessness, Life Event | 2 Comments »

Monday Blues

July 1st, 2010 by Shelley Widhalm

I wonder, sometimes, about my work attitude. I am like many people on Sundays who complain that they donít want to go to work on Monday. And then I go to work on Monday and get caught up in the work and start enjoying the accomplishing of tasks. Friday arrives, and I think, yes, I will write and work my way toward being a great American novelist. I may do some writing, but I tend to get caught up in doing errands and whatever social things Iíve got going on for the stretch of two days.

I think on Sunday, where has my time gone? If only I could write all day Monday, that would be ideal. I think, I do not want to go to work, and the cycle starts all over again.

I find that either I have to be my good-girl worker self that does what she is supposed to do, something I am fine with as long as I get caught up in trying to accomplish my work duties. But as soon as I let my inner squall, the one I try to ignore and push away, come up into where I can feel it in my mind, I start to ache. I realize I am being who I am not, and then I wonder who I am if my outlines are colored all wrong. I feel starved trying to shift from being who society tells me to be to what is tapped down from the fear of risk and losing and being too poor to pay bills. In the process, I feel my squall become sharper, more resistant to my ignorance as it tells me yes, you can. There is the Serenity Prayer. And hope. And what if. There is yes, there is being real. Chance it.

Oh, I need that push.

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Posted in Shelley Widhalm, Writer | 2 Comments »

This Land is Your Land! This Land is My Land!

June 28th, 2010 by Helen Colella

Independence Day, a.k.a. the Fourth of July, is the ultimate holiday event celebrated throughout America. This day is marked by those who honor the history, government and traditions of the United States. There are many different patriotic displays where citizens of all ages pay homage to our nation.

People wear red, white and blue hats, shirts and other clothing, decorate their homes, public places and everything else with streamers, balloons, ribbons and other ornaments. They proudly fly the American flag. All this enthusiasm is to commemorate our historic evolution and encourage our progress for the future.

In the mornings, people of all ages gather along Main Street, USA across our country to view local parades, cheer on the marchers and salute the American flag.

During the afternoons many attend carnivals, fairs and baseball games. Some go on picnics, have backyard barbeques and grill their favorite foods. Others gather at a pool, lake or oceanfront to splish ën splash trying to keep cool in the hot afternoon sun while they await the traditional finale of the day.

When evening arrives, the parks, fairgrounds, town squares and waterside facilities fill with families who gather to watch the sky light up with colorful fireworks.

They attend concerts and listen to patriotic songs like† ìthe Star Spangled Bannerî, ìGod Bless Americaî, †"America the Beautiful", "My Country, 'Tis of Thee", "This Land Is Your Land", "Stars and Stripes Forever", and, regionally, "Yankee Doodle" in northeastern states and "Dixie" in southern states.

Some military bases give a one-gun-salute for each state in the United States, called a ìsalute to the union,î on Independence Day at noon.

If you've never been to our nation's capital, I strongly recommend you take a trip to Washington D.C..† Regardless of your political affiliation, I guarantee the experience will impress you. Indeed this land is your land and this land is my land. This home of the free and the brave (with all its faults) deserves a celebration.

How will you celebrate July 4th this year?

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Posted in Gratitude, inspiration | 2 Comments »

Winter Retreat

June 22nd, 2010 by Fay Ulanoff

Winter Retreat

††††††††††† The warm crackling heat from the furnace wraps its arms around me like an old fur coat.

††††††††††† I snuggle between the kitchen table on a chair and prepare to eat breakfast.

††††††††††† The aroma of cinnamon and apples, along with the toasty smell of coffee, works its way up into my nostrils.

††††††††††† I turn the corners of my mouth up into a grin, pull my sweatshirt closer to my body and prepare my cereal with butter; sugar and heavy cream, then embrace the enticing morning feast with a gulp of coffee, while reaping the fine rewards that a cold morning can offer.

Posted in inspiration | 2 Comments »

Back to the Drawing Board

June 21st, 2010 by Cindy Strandvold

Hi, itís me, Flash. Cindy is catching up today after being away from home for a week. Writing this blog was WAY down on her to-do list, so I thought Iíd use this opportunity to get something off my chest.

See, last week after dropping off a group of kids at church camp, she used the time as a writing retreat. Seeing as Iím her favorite main character, I knew Iíd be needed. Plus, an exotic vacation away from our little bay window writing nook sounded like just the ticket.

BUT, this retreat was not held in the mountains, near a gurgling brook, like I expected. It wasnít held at the beach, either. No, Cindy never bothered to mention our plush accommodations were going to be at the Super 8 in York, NE. Donít worry, though, it was better than it sounds. We scored a nice corner room with a viewóof the parking lot.

Now, York itself is a nice little town. American flags line the main street and big old houses overlook the charming brick streets. Cindy was so enchanted by some of these houses, she probably would have spent the week in jail for trying to peek in the windows if it wasnít for me keeping her in line.

But we werenít there for houses and brick streets and walks on the trail along the river. No, we were there to write. So when Cindy fired up her laptop, I was surprised to find her starting a new storyóminus yours truly. At first I thought maybe Iíd appear a little further in, but by Friday and page 72, I was still nowhere to be seen. Needless to say, I was ticked. Iíd come all this way and spent a week in a dumpy motel for nothing?

About this time Cindy started to have doubts. The story wasnít panning out like sheíd hoped. She didnít buy the main characterís motivations, the whole thing seemed like too much of a stretch.

Well, duh. You tell me, if you were eight years old, who would you rather read about? Milly, the perky kitten, or FLASH, Feline Extraordinaire?

Exactly.

Just because Iím a figment of her imagination doesnít mean Iím stupid. If she had only listened to me to start with she wouldnít have wasted a whole week of undivided writing time.

Next time Iím insisting on the beach!

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Posted in Book, cats, Cindy Strandvold, Writer, Fun | 3 Comments »

THE MAGIC OF TRAVEL

June 10th, 2010 by Quinn Reed

Vacations are wonderful things if they provide you with what you need.† †One requires different travel experiences at different phases of oneís life.† You may have loved camping when your children were young, but now perhaps you crave leaving your camping stove at home and taking a cooking class in Santa Fe or even Oaxaca, Mexico.

†If you are totally stressed out and exhausted, spending lazy days on a beach letting the sound of the surf polish your jagged edges may appeal to you.

† If you are citified and longing for Mother Nature and adventure, then hiking through Patagonia in South America or even the more primitive trails in your home state may be your choice.

At the moment, my daughter and her new husband are in Alaska visiting our son who lives there.† She has fallen head over heels in love with Alaska and the fishing experiences she is having.† Her first day there, she stood in the ocean for six hours straight throwing out her line without a bite.† Eventually, she snagged a salmon and hauled it in and was ecstatic! †To my shock, my son informed me that she ate the fish eggs from the newly cut open fish right there on the beach-apparently that is what fisherpeople do.† I am amazed that anyone would find joy in standing in waders in thigh high water all afternoon without food, drink or a toilet and then dining on fish roe without the sour cream or crackers.† †Not my thing, but then again, I donít have a desk job in an architectural firm like she does where she pores over blueprints and the fine points of design.† No wonder the majestic spaces and wonderful smells of Alaska appeal to her!

††††††††††††††† So dear readers, if you had unlimited time and resources at your disposal, what would your dream travel experience be at this point in your life?† Where would you go and what would you do?

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Ladybugs and Chocolate Peanut Clusters

June 5th, 2010 by Cheryl Courtney

Yesterday, as I was feeding hay to the horses, I spotted a ladybug atop a tall stalk of grass. For a moment I contemplated capturing it for my rose garden, thinking of all the juicy aphids there. Instead I watched it grooming and reshaping the lovely orange wings, realigning the black dots just so. This ladybug appeared to be preparing for a long journey. Soon, it launched into the morning and zoomed into a forest of tansy mustard weeds.

Last evening, I attended the†celebration for†Katherine†Hewitts' new†venture, †'Be Magazine',see†http://www.hewittpublishing.com/at Michelle LaBorde's lovely home in Niwot. The backyard was filled with chatter about the articles on amazing women along the Front Range.† As I listened to the music and talked with novelist Janet Fogg, www.janetfogg.com about†the†exciting journey†of her†new release Soliloquy, I thought of the ladybug.

Every woman there was about to launch into the bounty of the world; there are stories and extraordinary women making them happen everywhere. Thank you--Katherine and Michelle for a marvelous evening and 'Good Luck' with your magazine. Thank you for making a venue to showcase the women I have come to respect and love and for letting us write about them.†

As the sun was setting, I spotted a plate of chocolate peanut clusters and savored the crunchy goodness, then†licked my fingers. Yes-- there is abundance all around us; in the music, in the lives of women who†make a simple rich dessert††to share at a party, and in the forest of 'weeds' at the edge of the corral. What fun. I enjoy being in it, all.

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Posted in Cheryl Courtney, Writer | 2 Comments »

Friend Rules

June 1st, 2010 by Shelley Widhalm

My dog Zoey and I were out on a walk two months ago on a spring-like day. We saw three geese dosing on a landscaped section of grass in a Fort Collins office plaza. We barreled off the sidewalk and headed toward the geese with me restraining my 8.6-pound daschund as she chased her new friends. They fluttered their wings and waddled a few feet away.

Zoey walked faster, and I pulled harder, trying to keep her far enough away from the wild creatures. I didnít know if they would snap their beaks or squabble, teaching her that not everyone, animal and human alike, is eager for friendship.

In repetitive fashion, Zoey pulled and the geese hopped away, but after a few times of this, ìthe potential friendsî gave up their comfortable grass and flew halfway across the parking lot we had just reached. Zoey kept trying, and to me, it felt like she was saying, ìBut they can be my friends.î

The same goes with the feral cat hiding under a shed at my fatherís house. Every time Zoey goes out in the yard when we visit, the first place she runs is to the shed. ìIs the cat there?î she seems to ask. ìI know there is a friend somewhere in there,î she says.

Zoey reminds me of myself as a child, wanting friends and not knowing the difference between those who could be mean and the genuine kind ones who can love you for who you are.

For me, it took a lot of hurts and taunts and whatever else girls do to each other before I realized that friends are hard to find. You canít look for them underneath a shed or in the grass or in the air. Or maybe you can. Maybe Zoey knows more than me about friendship with her happy hope that everyone loves her, if not now, soon once they see how cute she is and what a good girl she can be, only if.

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Gone Home

May 30th, 2010 by Helen Colella

A 50th high school reunion beckoned me home to NJ.

100 + class members attended. Some came with spouses others without. Many still lived and worked throughout the state. Others traveled from NY, CA, SC, FL, OH, VA, MA, VT, and CO to join in the festivities.

What surprised me most was the instant connection we made with one another. Seemed like yesterdayÖOh sure, a few years may have passed, gray hairs sprouted and an extra pound or two found its way to intrude, but still present was the same zest for life. One success story after another brought a sense of pride for these old friends who so aptly represented East Side High School out in the world.

Good food, lots of fun and rekindling of friendships...fantastic. DJ played "our" kind of musicÖRock ën Roll of the fifties. Lots of chatter, laughing, singing and dancing! We let the good times roll!

Next day after the reunion breakfast I was on the move.
I drove all over NJ to visit with several high school friends who couldnít make reunion, college friends and family. I scouted old jaunts, rode by homes we lived in, WALKED, really walked, the boardwalk in several beach townsóSeaside Heights, Point Pleasant Beach, and Belmar. Oh the memories generated in these places!

Sand dunes, salty air, ocean waves caressing the sandy beach, sun bathers tanning on colorful towels and blankets and small boats cruising the shoreline were a welcomed sight. Amusement rides for adults and kids, including the carousel and its magical calliope music, drew children of all ages who, with ticket in hand, waited their turn. Hawkers at the game stands challenged the vacationers to take a chance at winning a prize. Carnival type food, pizza at Tomato Joeyís, salt water taffy from Jenkinsonís Beach teased and pleased my taste buds. Miniature golf, fun houses, souvenir shops and the fun filled arcades still lured the crowds. Aside from a few upgrades, the boardwalk hadnít changed much. And how could I not mention the spicy, Lobster Diablo dinner I savored while sitting at a window table watching the boats come and go along Shark River? Nothing like melt-in-your-mouth fresh seafood to top off a wonderful trip.

So happy I went because Helen Pepsin (maiden name) rose to the occasion and uncovered/rediscovered her old self, the one from a lifetime ago...LOL. She was and still is lots of fun. I wonder how she got lost in being Mrs. Eddie and Jimmyís mother, Andyís mother, Matthewís mother and Amyís mother.

Gone homeÖyou bet I did. What a trip! A true blast from the past.

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THE PERILS OF PEEING IN EUROPE

May 24th, 2010 by Quinn Reed

†

††††††††††††††† I travel all over the world and the one thing Iíve learned for sure is that it really doesnít matter how fat one is.† What matters is how long one can go without peeing.†

††††††††††† Nothing is worse in Europe than the excruciating pain of an overfull bladder and no toilet in sight. Even if you stumble on a toilet, if you donít have a coinÖyou are screwed.† The way it works is that you are supposed to find a coffee shop and buy a coffee as payment to use the facilities.† This makes no sense as the coffee goes directly to oneís bladder and the cycle simply repeats itself.

On my trip to Europe this past April, I was searching frantically for a toilet on the streets of Barcelona and was unable to find one.† Desperate, I ran into a museum that was twenty minutes from closing and threw 6 Euro at the ticket taker just so I could use the toilet.† I bought a 6 Euro cup of coffee so I could pee in Santorini, Greece and a 6 Euro glass of bad wine to pee in Dubrovnik, Croatia in a camping potty behind a curtain on the edge of a cliff. †Each time, it was money well-spent.

Some days Iíd travel to some far off destination on a fancy motor coach with a toilet on board, BUT, the toilets are always locked, mocking you as you curse that one teeny sip of coffee that mostly you only smelled but didnít drink for breakfast.† I guess if management unlocked the toilet and let the passengers actually use them, then they would have to clean them which would increase their overhead!† On a train ride to Rome, I needed to pee so desperately that I used the toilet at the end of the car.† Unfortunately, the toilet locks itself at the train station when it is standing still and unlocks itself as it is hurling 80 kilometers an hour down the track.† No wonder the walls and floors are sticky!!!

When I was lucky enough to find a toilet on my travels, the line reached to Jamaica!† But only if you are a woman.† The men never waited, something to do with the ease of not undoing a belt and the freedom of peeing standing up at a urinal.† My husband was in and out in a flash and I spent most of my vacation in a cue at the ìladies room. So ladies, this is the new rule.† UNDO ALL YOUR CLOTHING FASTENINGS WHILE YOU ARE STANDING IN LINE.† GO INSIDE THE STALL AND PEE.† IMMEDIATELY EXIT THE STALL AND DEAL WITH YOU FASTENINGS OUTSIDE THE STALL. Iíve done the math.† The fastenings add two minutes to each person in line.†

And remember, really smart people make it a policy to never drink any liquids when traveling, no exceptions.

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