Friday, December 30, 2016

Five Resolutions for 2017

There are years I cling to for all their great memories and moments. Then there are years like 2016. Bye! Time to go! Don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you! Or do. I don't care. You kind of deserve it.

Moving on! Here are my top five resolutions for 2017.

Chad and I continue to get the hang of the whole vegan lifestyle thing each day. We are not perfect. We cheat sometimes in social or travel situations with a bit of dairy, but still keep it strictly vegetarian. My goal for 2017 is to more fully embrace the vegan lifestyle. This includes cooking more. I have eight, count them eight!, vegan and vegan-friendly cookbooks. I need to flag some of the best looking recipes to cook. I also need to be better at scoping out vegan-friendly restaurants when traveling.

As tempting as I find staying home with my pets, books and Netflix, I acknowledge the need to keep traveling, and expanding my horizons and experiences. I booked a fun party weekend in Houston at the Four Seasons Hotel for early spring compliments of a silent auction gift certificate. Chad and I are currently researching our annual big vacation for either Acadia National Park in Maine, Michigan's Upper Peninsula or Asheville, North Carolina. (International travel isn't in the budget this year due to a cranky, unpredictable air conditioning unit.)

Travel to the Upper Peninsula in Michigan, Acadia National Park in Maine or Asheville, NC.

Exercise plays an important part in my mental and physical health. I continue to work it out at small group training twice weekly with an emphasis on isometric weight bearing exercises and TRX Suspension Training. I love long walks in the moonlight. I found and joined a new gym after my old gym closed in 2016. My schedule is built around incorporating exercise in 2017.

Writing and performing a story for Testify ATX was one of the hardest things I've ever completed. It was also one of the most rewarding things I've ever completed. I resolve to write, and hopefully be chosen to perform, an original true story in 2017.

My second grade teacher told me that I should be a writer when I grew up, because I wrote a story about a tiger sneaking into my yard at night and jumping on my trampoline. Mrs. Holloway thought that my story showed great creativity. I currently write one short story each year for submission to a couple of short story writing contests. (I've never had a complete story published as result of these contests, but one of my story titles was recognized for creativity and generating curiosity. The title that The Austin Chronicle liked well enough to call out was "God Drives a Texas-Tough Ram Truck".) In 2017 I resolve to write at least ten short stories with a minimum of 2500 words each. I may not have the creative juice for a novel yet, but I'll never get there if I'm not more disciplined in my writing practice. 

drawing that accompanied the story I wrote about a sneaky tiger on my trampoline

Monday, December 19, 2016

Being Basic and Loving It

Urban Dictionary: Basic

I went to visit my sister and her sweet husband and seven (yes, seven!) children last week. My sister, her husband and each of the children are unique, intelligent individuals. However, on the surface, a shallow observer might think that their lifestyle out in the far-flung suburbs is not cosmopolitan or sophisticated. The shallow observer might use the dreaded "B" word -- that's right, BASIC. That shallow observer would be a jerk, but let's roll with this assumption for a second.

Last week my thirteen year old niece, my sister and I sat in their beat-to-heck, crumb-covered, well-loved, hail-damaged mini-van in the Target parking lot while listening to Christmas music on the radio and eating three different kinds chocolate candies out of the bags. Self-consciously surveying the scene, I thought to myself, "I am being real basic right now. I'm not mad about it."

Quiet that inner voice that urges you to always be an influencer, sophisticated, ground-breaking or Instagram-worthy. Appreciate the sweetness of a simple moment of pleasure. Because constantly judging yourself or others, that's really BASIC. *gasp*

Saturday, December 10, 2016

Five Christmas Songs I Don't Hate

Because I worked in retail most of my life, I heard way too many Christmas songs for way too long each year. There are actually a few Christmas songs that don't make me want to jam earplugs into my ears or run away quietly hoping no one notices my absence until the song (or the holiday season) is over.

1. "Carol of the Bells" reminds me of being in handbell choir at the giant church my family attended during my elementary school years. I loved playing handbells, wearing the white gloves and working collectively to make beautiful music. This was my favorite song I ever played in handbell choir, and continues to be my favorite Christmas song.

2. "This Christmas", but only the original sung by Donny Hathaway. Seriously.

3. "What Christmas Means to Me" as sung by Stevie Wonder makes me do a tiny happy-dance. When I worked at Old Navy, this was one of the few songs that made me feel okay to be at work during the holiday season.

4. "Feliz Navidad" by José Feliciano: Who doesn't love this song? We won't be friends if you don't like this song. But, hey, you do you.

5. "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney & Wings: Although this song was recorded in 1979, it sounds delightfully 80s and lovably twee.

Friday, December 02, 2016

Five Fave Photos of Marigold: In Memorium

On Wednesday Chad and I lied to Marigold. We told her we were taking her to a sleepover where she could have all the cigarette butts and queso she wanted. (Marigold loved smokers, gravitating to them when they visited our home to lick their fingers.  She loved to find an ashtray or a cigarette butt to lick. Charming, huh? Marigold also loved queso. She missed it terribly when Chad and I went mostly vegan.) We actually took Marigold to our faithful veterinarian, and had her euthanized. She was nineteen and a half years old. That is an exceptionally long life for a Persian cat.

Marigold's use of her back legs declined steadily over the past two years. The Wednesday before Thanksgiving I found a hard, swollen mass on half of her bottom jaw. I knew at that moment it was time to make the appointment to euthanize her. She went out dramatically with sass, yowling and hissing right up until the very end. She always hated trips to the veterinarian. We thought about hiring a mobile vet to euthanize Marigold in our home, but I suspected it would be traumatic for our other resident pets to witness.

I spent Thursday scrubbing her yucky orange sneeze marks off the walls and baseboards in her favorite spots. I cried a bit. I vacuumed her long fur from her spot on the sofa, her favorite corner of the living room rug and her cubby in the bottom of the bedroom closet. Chad and I will be lint-rolling her fur off of our clothes and furniture for many years to come. Marigold's fur seemingly regenerates and multiplies, and will serve as a reminder of her long and sassy life.

Marigold's tongue was usually sticking out at all of us

Marigold after a bath

Marigold's favorite spot on the sofa

Marigold exploring the deck

Marigold tried to recruit the tiny foster kittens as her minions