This is another of my collaborative pieces with photographer Julie Powell. I just love her artwork. Be sure to click the link to also have access to Julie’s site. Thanks!
Tag: blogging
What Would You Do?
I was in Lucky’s Market in Tallahassee on Wednesday afternoon. The little cafe area was hopping. Some people were taking advantage of the “$6 2 Slices and a Pint” special. Others were having a coffee or tea. Almost every table was filled.
While I waited on my non-fat iced chai tea latte at the bar I surveyed the crowd and noted that the college aged African American man seated right behind me had a large piece of white fuzz stuck in his hair. For a couple of minutes I debated about telling him. I got my latte and found a seat, still trying to decide whether I should say anything.
When he got up to leave I caught up to him and told him there was something in his hair. In my best mom voice I said, “Turn around. I’ll fix it.”
He obliged me and I dusted the fuzz away. I told him I walk around with stuff sticking to me all the time, but that he was too handsome to walk around like that. Oh mercy. I think I embarrassed the poor guy half to death.
He did thank me, but I wonder if I did the right thing. Should I have just let the fuzz be? What would you have done?
Peace, people.
Allergic to Charles M. Blow?
On Tuesday evening I took myself to the Ruby Diamond Concert Hall in Tallahassee to hear New York Times columnist, Charles M. Blow, speak as part of the Golden Tribe Lecture Series. As someone who faithfully follows Mr. Blow’s twitter account, I was eager to be in the audience.
Mr. Blow does not mince words. He does not give the simple answers to issues of social justice that we crave. He does not pat us on our respective backs for seeking those answers from him, having grown weary of white folks relying on African Americans to come up with those answers. In effect he said that we all have access to the same reading material that he does. We can see for ourselves the white privilege inherent in our society. That the calls to action are there, but largely unheeded.
My allergies kicked in right in the middle of Mr. Blow’s talk. My nose started running, and I was frantically searching for tissues in my purse to stem the flood and to catch any sneeze-related fallout. I mostly succeeded. Don’t ask.
Afterwards, back at Doright Manor, I sat in the darkness on the couch, blowing my nose and sneezing, hoping I wasn’t disturbing Studly Doright. I wondered if perhaps my allergic reaction was a physical response to Mr. Blow’s message. Was I fighting to understand or was I in denial? Probably a bit of both.
I have some reading to do, starting with this: 
If you have an opportunity to hear Charles M. Blow speak, I encourage you to go and to really listen. Take your tissues, just in case.
Peace, people.
Meditation Song (reblog)
I’m not feeling very energetic this morning. I’ll spare you the details, but hoping to see my doctor sometime today. In the meantime, I thought this previously posted poem might suffice for my daily offering.
Peace, people.
Falling Words
I tried to write a poem, but the words fell off the page
They puddled on the floor in coils of rhymes gone wrong
And no matter how hard I tried to gather them together
They slipped through my fingers too agitated to coalesce
No scheme, no order, no reason or reflection, no arbitrary alliteration
Hell, I’m no poet. I don’t even play one on tv.
Cold is Relative
Studly Doright is playing in a golf tournament today while I’m home taking care of the cats and doing laundry. Any thoughts I had of getting out and running around town for a bit were dashed by the weather.
It’s “Florida cold” outside, not to be confused with “Michigan cold” or “Wisconsin cold” but trust me, when you’re accustomed to 70° weather with sunshine, a cloudy 40° day is a real bummer, and our night time temps are going to dip below freezing this week. Brrr.
My daughter in Illinois has no sympathy, though, and I can’t blame her for that. Their weather forecast makes me want to cry for them. If they cry for themselves, their tears will freeze on their rosy cheeks.
Studly Doright and I are no strangers to bitterly cold weather. We did our time in the cold white north, four years in North Dakota and another eight in Illinois were plenty for me. Perhaps our little cold snap here in the Florida panhandle is just a reminder to count my blessings. Or maybe it’s just cruel and unusual punishment for some unknown offense. Whatever it is, may it be gone soon. I’m also wishing warmer weather for all those impacted by Winter Storm Harper.
Here’s our own force of nature, also named Harper.
peace and warmth, people.
Before We Were Kings (reblog)
This is a piece inspired by the wonderful Australian photographer, Julie Powell. She and I collaborated on several pieces awhile back, and they’ve been on my mind lately.
Non-fatal Public Speaking
Last night I read my piece, “Adventures in Jet Skiing” to a small, yet dare I say, appreciative group, at 621 Gallery in Tallahassee. Oddly enough, I wasn’t terribly nervous. I’d had to edit my original piece to better suit a live reading, and I believe it worked well.
The most difficult part of the evening was waiting my turn while several gifted, published poets read their own pieces. I was entertained and enthralled and ultimately concerned that my piece would be out of place in the setting. Still, when my name was called I rose to the occasion and gamely delivered my tale of surviving my first, and hopefully last, jet ski ride.
Thankfully those in attendance laughed in most of the right places. It helped that I had three lovely friends show up to support me. Julie, Denise, and Lisa, you ladies rock.
If you’ve got a few minutes to waste, Julie filmed most of my reading. I definitely need to slow down my delivery and enunciate more precisely. I chose not to use the microphone because the speaker had an odd and distracting thrum going on, so my recorded voice is a bit too quiet. Thanks to Julie I now have a checklist of things to work on for the next time I am brave enough to step in front of an audience.
Peace, people!
https://nananoyz5forme.com/2016/08/23/riding-a-jet-ski-the-good-the-bad-and-the-ugly/
Studly Doright Gets His Own Post
Today marks Studly Doright’s 40th year with the same company. He started out on the very bottom rung in the maintenance crew and steadily climbed to the position of Area Director. We still are slightly amazed at how far he’s come with only a high school education.
The rise to AD included multiple moves, first from Texas to North Dakota, then to Kansas, followed by our first stint in Florida, an 8-year detour to Illinois and finally (we hope) back to Florida.
He shared with me the email from his Vice President announcing this anniversary and I got teary eyed reading it and all the follow up emails from the folks he’s worked with over the years. I’m married to a special guy, but I didn’t need to get that information from others. Still, it’s so nice to read all the memories others have of his time with them.
So here’s to Studly! Thanks for being the hardest working, most consistently trustworthy guy I know.
Peace, people!
Put a Ring, or Three, on It
First thing every morning I place my Apple Watch on my wrist and begin working toward the goal of closing all three fitness rings. I’ve had the watch for over a year now and had never gotten all three rings closed.
I’ve come close on multiple occasions, usually while enjoying a day at an amusement park. A couple of times the stroke of midnight coincided with ring closure and I fell short of my goal.
Yesterday, though, I made it happen by running errands around Tallahassee. First I closed the blue stand ring after 6 p.m. but then I always close it, so I didn’t get too excited. I did note, though, that both of the other rings were considerably further along than usual.
I decided to go for it. First I headed to the elliptical machine that Studly Doright bought in a fit of fitness fever a couple of years ago. I’d kind of forgotten about it. It’s probably been used for two hours total since we put it together.
After roughly half a minute on the machine I was huffing and puffing, yet I pushed on to the minute mark. I wondered briefly if I was having a heart attack, but my breathing settled down fairly quickly and my heart rate looked surprisingly good.
I walked, jumped, and danced around Doright Manor, pumping my fists into the air, scaring the cats and amusing Studly.
“Have you finally lost your mind?” he asked.
“Yep,” I huffed. There was simply no time to explain.
“Well, I hope you find it before Vikings comes on,” Studly countered. “I don’t want any distractions.”
I might’ve flipped him off. Behind his back, because in this case it really was the thought that counted.
The green exercise ring closed next. I whooped and pushed on to close the red move ring. The elliptical was put to use again along with more dancing, leaping, and erratic arm movements. I was going to do it.
Now, it would make a better story if, perhaps, a wild boar had broken into the house and devoured me, or if a wayward satellite had fallen onto Doright Manor smushing me and my Apple Watch to smithereens just before the third ring closed, but the boring, yet satisfying truth is, I closed all the rings just in time to join Studly Doright for our weekly Vikings viewing date. Finally! A couch potato victory.
Of course I tossed and turned with leg cramps all night, and the smell of Tiger Balm wafted through the house, but by golly, if I did it once I can do it again. Just probably not today.
Oh, tonight’s the night I’ll be reading one of my blog posts at Salon 621 in Tallahassee. I’m not nervous. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway: “I’m not nervous. I’m not nervous. Really, I’m not nervous.”
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 