Five Month Check In!

Which way is up?

One thing I'm learning on this year-long journey is the vital importance of "course corrections."  While progress has been in the forward direction, not all days are "perfect," and that's a good thing for me to learn.  I have a tendency - and I think I share this quality with many, many people - to underestimate how much time something will take and therefore, to plan too much for each day.  Then when I don't manage to cross everything off my list, well . . . I have to fight the idea that I'm a lazy, backsliding failure.

Oh, how dark and dusty and cobwebby are our brains!

While May was a good month, it was also chock-full of Big Days.  It began with the third anniversary of the decision made by me and FryDaddy to solemnize our relationship and agree publicly that we were in this for the Long Haul.  May also contained the exam period for the spring semester, which means it also had the grading frenzy.  There was graduation, a few solitary days at the beach (where I discovered a series of steampunk novels that I began tearing through and am trying hard to take the time to enjoy now that I'm back in the Everyday World), registration for summer classes, a fun-packed, but also wearying, weekend presenting on Joss Whedon at the Birmingham Alabama Phoenix Festival, and then the start of a super-abbreviated summer school session which will last all through June.

As you can see - too much going on there.  And the Joss in June conference that FryDaddy and I have been working on for a year happens at the end of this month, along with the aforementioned summer school sessions, so June is likely to be busy, too.  In May, I fell way behind on my "star" days (in fact, it's been three weeks since I even put a star on the calendar) and quick, processed food was an easy lure to get me through my routinely 12-hour-plus days.

All the more reason for me to take time out and off.  I'm hoping this month to start with little things, like making time for a cup of tea after my last class is over for the day.  (I like tea.)  Not constantly eating lunch at my desk while looking at the Internet.  More walks in the sunlight and saying "yes" to fun things with friends instead of regretfully saying, "No, I have a meeting at 7 tonight, but maybe in two weeks??"  Trying out that backyard hammock and watching the garden grow.

We only have so much time on this Earth and I want to spend more of it with those I love rather than with those I grade.  So it's time for a deep breath and a new look at things.  I want to keep working on menu planning to reduce the amount of angst over "what's for dinner?" and "oh, no, I need three things from the store" (which, at least for me, always seems to turn into $35).  I want to get back to eating food I can pronounce and getting in at least mild exercise every day - rushing from appointment to appointment doesn't count.

New month, new start!

Three!

 May has been quite a full month.  It begins with the anniversary of FryDaddy and me having the common sense to say, in front of God and witnesses, "Yep.  This one.  Done and done."  The traditional third anniversary gift is leather - FryDaddy gave me a gorgeous, vaguely-steampunked, leather-and-rivet-bound copy of Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, which is a re-telling of Kipling's The Jungle Book that I greatly enjoy.  I gave him tickets to an open-air Bob Dylan concert.  (While Dylan may look a little leathery, I'll admit the gift was a bit outside the traditional bounds.)  FryDaddy will probably don sackcloth and ashes when Dylan goes to his eternal reward, whereas I'd never seen him in concert before and was very much the noob.  (Although I did know "Tangled Up in Blue.") However, I had a great, GREAT time and would gladly see him again.  I hadn't been to a concert in quite a while and the open-air venue (a little rain, but not much) made for terrific people-watching.  Everyone from two groovy-girls to a couple of white-haired gentlemen still in business suits - and everyone seemed to be having a good time.  It made for a wonderful anniversary celebration.

May is also the end of the spring semester and it was the usual rushrush of suddenly-frantic students.  However, the tumult is over and I even managed to clear out a filing cabinet in my quest to go closer to paperless.  (My lawyer training pretty much guarantees that I'll never completely make the jump.  As a species, attorneys just like paper too darn much.)

My summer herbs and vegetables are going in the ground later today - when it's been dry enough to plant, I've been grading or writing (I just finished copyedits on the Breaking Bad book today), but I need to get that done, because . . .

Chair for one, please!

. . . I head to the beach tomorrow!  Just me and just for a few days, but I'm so looking forward to it, even if I also have just a touch of guilt about wanting a few days away.  I love FryDaddy and the Furs (now there's a name for a garage band!) and our house and our life together - but it's been a rough ride lately!  Too many commitments, too many deadlines, and a few too many demands.  Time to take the phone off the hook for a couple of 24-hours and flip through magazines, finally finish Season 6 of Supernatural and dig my toes into the sand.

I understand that, to many, the idea of vacationing alone (especially when I'm in a commuter marriage where we don't see each other that much) seems odd and maybe even peculiar.  And it's true that I'll miss being at home.  But sometimes, you need to be gone to appreciate what's there.

Four Month Check In!

A little more each day!

Time for the monthly check-in of those New Year resolutions and, I'm proud to say, the news is mostly good and in a way that I wouldn't have thought of as "good" a few months back.  I guess that's what you can call "growth."

See, I'm using a "star" system.  I have certain tasks to do each day and, just like in kindergarten, if I do them all, I get a star.  If I don't do them all, but made an attempt, I get a star of a different color.  That's it.  It's a "yes/no" system; I didn't want to get into a Madras-plaid color chart based on how many of the tasks I accomplished.  All = one color (it varies from month to month; April is green) and not all = another color (silver this month).  I have more green stars than silver this month, but I've had plenty of days where I didn't make my step count (you try 8,000 steps in an April monsoon!), or I failed to eat five servings of fruit/vegetables (tonight, for example, a horrible day of grading meant I not only fell off the "good eating" wagon, I performed a reverse 2 1/2 somersault in pike position to stick the landing with chorizo dip for dinner.  My lunchtime carrots are long ago and far away). That sort of thing.

Here's the funny part.  As recently as two months ago, I'd see a silver star as a failure, even if I'd gotten four of my five tasks done for the day.  Somewhere along the way, I picked up a nasty case of perfectionism and let me tell you - that sucker will kill you flat.  If I didn't complete all my tasks, I felt like I wasn't quite good enough and that, my friends, is a soul-killer.  It's one of the reasons I marvel at my new attitude regarding the cleanliness of the house and the tidiness of the yard.  In the past, cleaning the house meant yanking the furniture out of place to get at the baseboards, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, running six loads of laundry, and yes, when I was done, the house would gleam and be scented with the sharp pungent clean of bleach.  Outside, it meant digging a flower bed by hand - starting with tearing up the grass, then mixing in heavy bag after heavy bag of compost, garden soil, etc., then planting - all in one session.  At the end of either, I was exhausted and usually badly out of sorts and I never wanted to do it again.

Honestly, perfectionism can paralyze you.  By being so persnickety about - well, everything - it becomes harder and harder to start.  "Well," you think.  "I don't have time to do it right and if I don't do it right, it doesn't count, so I might as well not try at all."  Further, you seldom give other people a break, insisting self-righteously instead that they're just not trying hard enough.  "No," you say.  "You can't help, because you won't do it right and then I'll have to go behind you to fix it and that just makes more work."  You are, in short, a stressed-out shrew of a human being, who is clinically unable to give yourself or others a moment of compassion.  Clutter and chaos gain another toehold while peace and calm retreat a little further.

But people can change.  Slowly, but it's possible.  Now, I do a little each day and a few simple routines every day to keep the hot spots I've cleared from flaring back up.  (Thank you, FlyLady!)  And the house is cleaner than it's ever been, I'm slowly getting more organized (plan-ahead menus and grocery lists are next month's additions to the Isle of Calm), and I'm less stressed about it than I've ever been.

It's also a matter of having the right tools.  I tell students this all the time - although a hammer and a screwdriver are both useful tools, they are hardly interchangeable.  Use the right tool for the right job - it's much easier.  Yet I refused to take my own advice when it came to caring for my home, which is supposed to be a haven from the nuttiness of the outside world.  Gradually, I've been investing in better tools and, as Stepford Wife as it may sound, it really does make things easier to do, which makes me far more likely to want to do them.

Is the house perfect?  Is the yard?  Oh, no.  Nonononono.  But it's cleaner and flowers may yet bloom and tomatoes may yet be picked.  What's even better is that things are distinctly calmer, for there is Great Truth in that old adage, "If Mockingbird ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

Sing it, birds!

If Mock ain't happy . . . 

Earth Day

While not quite possessing the pomp of Groundhog Day (really - top hats and tails for a woodchuck with a magical shadow?), Earth Day has steadily become a semi-large holiday.  You can tell by how many retailers have sales and giveaways and every year, a few more "go green."

Alas, I am spending Earth Day buried under grading that must be done (although it's crossed my mind to do some composting with a few of the items, let me tell you), but I celebrated/observed early this year.  My mom came down to the Nest, bearing shovels, spades, boxes of plants, and a can-do spirit that both inspires and exhausts me.  We spent a large part of the weekend scheming, digging, mixing, planting, and watering - in between trips to the local Home Superstore for various bits and parts.

Before - bare, ugly and hopeless.

Two hours of hard work later

Look, the yard is an ongoing project, I'll admit that.  But it's farther along than it's ever been. With the raised beds, hammock on stand, groundcover, summer bulb bed, and cunning plastic flamingoes, it's downright livable!

That's what the realtors call
"curb appeal"!

Three Month Check In!

Which is the Cadbury one?

Well, I'm about 90 days into my "let's get real about overhauling things" journey and it's time for a monthly summary.  I'm pleased to report that things look much better than they did a month ago.

First up, after the Doldrums of February, I had to get re-committed to my goals.  I did this and yes, I'm back on track. I broke a weight-loss plateau, which was nice, but more importantly, I am able today to look back on a solid month of drinking the amount of water I'm supposed to (just water - I don't count anything else, like my daily coffee fix, or my occasional sodas or tea) and eating at least four servings of fruit/vegetables a day.  (I know that's not enough, but that was my goal and I made it.  In April, I'll shoot for five.)  As silly as it may sound, an app called Plant Nanny is helping with the water aspect of things.  Since mid-March, I've "grown" a pompadoured dandelion and a Devil's Ivy that looks like a very happy celery.  Yesterday, I just started a cactus and I had to give that puppy 24 ounces of water before he stopped sulking this morning.  (Yes, I know how weird that sounds.)

Walking has gotten easier.  I've missed my daily 8,000 steps goal four times this month, but that's okay, too. Remember that I don't take "days off" with that, so every single day I'm trying to fit in those steps.  Some days - whether due to work, play, or just weather (March is changeable indeed!) - it just didn't happen.  Then again, I've made it more a priority, which is especially good on those l-o-n-g office days.  Get up and move - it helps your mind shift gears.

The house - funny story here.  About five years ago, I had my old-school jalousie windows replaced with full glass ones.  I was all about them being far more energy efficient, but when the installer was trying to demonstrate to me how easy they were to clean, because they tilt inwards, I looked at him like he was extolling the virtues of eating buzzard guts.  Wash windows?  Crazy.  Until I gave it a try this month.  I need to call that guy - he's right!  It IS easy, it DOES let in more light, and the whole house looks better!  I'm trying to follow the FlyLady system of "it's good enough and you can do anything for 15 minutes a day" as I declutter and organize the house this year and with window-washing, all I'm doing is washing the windows of one room a week.

By the way, if you're feeling that your house is cluttered, dingy, crowded, and hardly a place of haven from the hurly-burly of the world, RUN, don't walk, to FlyLady.net and click the "Getting Started" tab.  Then shine your sink.  I know, I know.  It sounds silly and irrelevant.  Do it anyway.  I found this system just before the New Year and it's mind-blowing.  It'll take me all year to get it down pat, but I've got the basics and I've decluttered a ton (probably literally) in 90 days and I've got my morning/evening routines in place.  And yes, I work full time.  You can still do this and your house can be a place that welcomes you rather than a place you want to hide from.  15 minutes a day.  Don't try to do it all at once.

In other news:

• Easter is tomorrow!  I have an inexplicable urge to put on a flowered hat and this is an urge I shall obey.
• There's no joyous Easter without the solemnity of Maundy Thursday and (especially) Good Friday.  On Maundy (Holy) Thursday, we are reminded of the call to serve others that is a hallmark of the Christian faith as the pastor humbly washes the feet of a congregant.  (It's a holdover from the Catholic Church and the newly-elected Pope Francis got this one right.  Wow! Jesuits. There may be some serious shaking up of things with this pontiff.)  My religious tradition also involves a Good Friday service that chills me as with each of the readings, the sanctuary gets progressively darker, until the final words "It is finished" are spoken, the Christ candle is extinguished, and the massive book of scripture is slammed shut.  Congregants then disperse in silence, a far cry from the usual chatter that follows my favorite benediction: "Go preach the Gospel.  Use words if necessary."
• My drama class finished their examination of Macbeth by watching Kurosawa's Throne of Blood this week.  Yeah, everybody (and there were a few) who sneered and told me that my students couldn't appreciate/handle a black-and-white film with subtitles and even the ones who thought I should show it for the same reason parents give Brussels sprouts to their kids - they won't like it, but it'll be good for them - can please accept my invitation to go take a running leap into the nearest lake.  They got it, it was valued over the BBC "straight" version they saw last week, and several of them loved it.  That made my day.  It really, really did.
• In scribbling news, a major milestone has been reached in the writing of Wanna Cook? the guide to Breaking Bad that I'm co-writing with Ensley (also known here as FryDaddy).  We have a detailed breakdown of deadlines for the rest, and the whole enchilada is due to be written, edited, polished, and (whew!) handed it for printing in mid-October.  It's going to be a wild six months, but I sincerely believe the bulk is done.  
• It's a gorgeous, early-spring day, I've got a house that's decently in order, a husband who thinks I'm the best decision he's ever made, two cats with distinct personalities, a dog that could make Scrooge smile, more friends than my house can hold, work I enjoy, a weekly movie show, and a book contract.  On top of that, I have a spa day scheduled Monday with two girl friends and next week is spring break.
• It's good to count your blessings and run out of fingers.

Happy Easter to all!

In Praise of Hobbies

"Where the waving wheat
Can sure smell sweet . . . "

Last night, I went to see a community theater production of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Oklahoma!  I have to admit, although there are other musicals I like more, I have a weakness for this show that goes all the way back to my fourteenth birthday when my parents took me to see a dinner theater production - believe it or not, I still have the program tucked in a box of mementos up in the attic.

I left humming snatches of various tunes - as I almost always do when I leave a musical.

It was a good production, too.  Musicals are tough to pull off in any event and Oklahoma! has a few special twists to it.  The show itself is historically important and is often cited as the first American musical to use the songs to actually propel the action forward, as opposed to being dropped in to the show to provide a thin excuse to have pretty chorus girls twirling about.  It's unashamedly optimistic and upbeat, yet has that oddly languid Agnes de Mille "dream ballet" sequence at the end of the first act.  It's loaded with stereotypes and a large part of the plot involves the "buying" of Ado Annie, which bugs me in a way that my 14-year-old self ignored.  Still - I like Oklahoma!  (The show.  The state's got some problems, especially in their legislature, which is fond of personhood and anti-science bills. So far, none have made it into law, but try, try again seems to prevail.)

And here's what I really liked about last night's show - community theater.  Look, it's not put on by professionals, and I likes me some Equity razzle-dazzle.  But - there's something gloriously pure about people cheerfully sacrificing their all-too-precious free time to learn their parts, sew costumes, build sets, shift scenery, hang lights, and the half-million other things that must be done by the time the curtain rises in return for nothing but applause and maybe a rose with a spray of baby's breath given by a family member after the curtain call..

We all need hobbies.  That idea of "all work and no play" making Jack a dullard is a good notion to hold up to the light every now and then.  Think of how much more interesting cocktail party conversations would be if they started with the question, "What do you do for fun?"  Not "What do you do?"  Almost everybody I know needs a paycheck and that, of course, eats up the majority of their time.  Not much choice there, so what someone does for a living might be interesting (and heaven knows that all too often we allow ourselves to be defined by our occupation), but what someone chooses to spend their rare free time on - that will tell you something deep and true about a person.

What do you do for fun?

Two Month Check In!

Also know as "Resolution Hangover."

At the end of last month, I posted an update on my New Year's "non-resolutions," and it seems like a good idea to continue - even though February was not a particularly "yay, team Mockingbird!" sort of month.

Things started off well - routines were starting to emerge and I was committed to making a number of gradual, yet ongoing, changes in my lifestyle.  Then - well, February happened.

I've said for years that February is only the shortest month in terms of actual calendar days.  I've often found February to be dreary and l-o-n-g.  Maybe it's winter hanging on with icy claws; I don't know.  At any rate, the second half of this month was beset by one little trouble after another that provided me with excellent incentives to cast aside my baby good habits.  Here it is at the end of the month and I can report that I need to re-commit and start anew.  I didn't take proper care of myself, allowing outside pressures and deadlines to loom larger than they needed to and I forgot what Meat Loaf tried to tell me:  "Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are."  I got behind, I had some minor dental work that had miserable complications, I caught the late winter crud (which turned into Gallumphing Bronchitis) which kept me from getting exercise and had me eating comfort food that was loaded with fat, sugar, and sodium, so I felt even less energetic - repeat dreaded cycle.

I got so wound up that I couldn't see straight - which is what it usually takes for me to actually (gulp!) ask for help.  On top of my usual workload, I'm "boots on the ground" for putting together a conference in June and I'm on Day 2 of the 30 Day Push to get the draft of the book project I'm co-writing in to the publisher.  It's too much all at once, even though I'm not solely responsible for either of those HUGE projects.  I'm told sensible people ask for help - it takes me getting my imaginary Supergirl cape caught in the phone booth door to see the truth of that.  But I did it and you know what? No one seemed to think I was a slacker for needing some assistance.

Go figure.

So here I am - blank slate.  Maybe I'll reach my walking goal today and maybe I won't quite get there, but I'm back to recording it.  Maybe I'll eat my "gold star" number of fruit/vegetable servings and maybe I won't, but (yep) I'm back to recording it. And maybe I'll go a little easier on myself and those around me.

That one's a definite.