Day 5 – #100HappyDay Challenge
A brief happy moment today was when I checked the mail. My LuLu Roe skirts arrived! Just as my girlfriend described and the fit is perfect. And that’s a miracle since I’m petite and sometimes struggle finding a well fitting pencil skirt. Thank you Justina!
Like many days, there are highs and lows. Today had a dip into the lows. Mt. Abraham has a cancerous tumor. My son called me devastated. Like many of you, our pets become our family and this is very unexpected since Mr. Abraham just turned 2 and is very young for something like this. And he is the best and cutest dog in the world. Everyone falls in love with him and I know you too if you met him.
We are praying that the cancer will be caught in time and hasn’t moved into his organs. Prayers all around. Cancer is such an ugly disease no matter what species you are! Please send prayers for everyone fighting this terrible disease.
A friend told me that there is nothing better than October in Houston. She is so right. My happy moment today was a quick lunch with a new friend on campus and the walk outside.
I’m not sure why I let the press of the day prevent me from indulging in lunch and a break from the work day. Listen to me… lunch is an indulgence! When did that become my norm? Shouldn’t it be an every part of my day? But sadly, like other things in life, I push it aside for other “more important” activities.
But maybe I’ve been short changing myself… maybe it’s time to remember that a mid-day break is more than feeding the body, it’s feeding the soul and refreshing the body.
100happydays challenge | Can you be happy 100 days
“Every day submit a picture of what made you happy!
It can be anything from a meet-up with a friend to a very tasty cake in the nearby coffee place, from a feeling of being at home after a hard day to a favor you did to a stranger.
#100happyday challenge is for you – not for anyone else.”
How can I resist this little documentary of happiness? I honestly saw this and figured I’d have to dive in. How about you?
@ Ritual in Houston for brunch.
I RSVP’d for this Meetup online ignoring the nerves that tend to start jumping whenever I step out of my comfort zone. But, seriously, brunch is harmless. Plus it’s my favorite kind of meal… the perfect start to my happiness challenge.
The Heights, a trendy Houston neighborhood, is about a 30 minute drive from me. The drive into town was easy on this beautiful October morning. Arriving to Ritual, I parked on the street, but they do have complimentary valet service which I recommend since parking can be a challenge. The restaurant has both inside and outside dining and has a pretty hip vibe which I enjoyed tremendously.
I met Kerrie, the host of the Meetup and what a sweetheart! She was so charming and had place cards for folks and chocolate mints! A lady after my own heart. Chocolate makes everything ok. She was an expert of putting people at ease as they wandered in. I met a great group of people that I might have never crossed paths with if I hadn’t signed up for a Meetup with strangers. LoL. I didn’t get to chat with everyone but there’s always next time.
I indulged in biscuits and gravy and a Sunday Funday mimosa. Definitely a a good way to enjoy a Sunday.
“You are blessed not because you work hard, but you are blessed because you do right and treat other people right.”
― Kyos Magupe
Last Thursday we were preparing for Hurricane Harvey. Most local folks I talked to reassured me not to worry about it, that the media was all hype. I’m grateful my daughter, who is a natural caregiver, convinced me otherwise and we stocked up on groceries. At first I grumbled (I haven’t spent that much on groceries in I don’t know when), but now, a week later, we are still well stocked, although a little short on fresh vegetables and fruits… but that’s all minor in the grand scheme of things.
Blessed, grateful, thank you. These words have become a litany, a prayer of sorts. Its hard to watch or read the news reports about the devastation around us. I am proud of the community, the city, the nation of people coming together helping out those in desperate times. Its going to take a long time to come back from this but it’ll happen. the city, the state, the people are resilient. Its just going to take time and a lot of resources.
To be fair, I have been less enamored with Houston, since arriving a few months ago, but I also know myself well enough to know its just I’m not use to living in a major city (Its me – not you, Houston). Maybe I should say I’m less enamored of the driving, the heat and the ongoing aggressive crush of people always in a hurry and with little kindness to be spared. But witnessing the turn out of stranger helping stranger has softened my opinion. I doubt if I will ever enjoy the staggering amount of crazy on the interstate (I’m sure it will be worse in the future, since much of the roads will be undergoing repairs).
All in all, I don’t regret the move here (maybe I’m the crazy one?) – despite the adjustment to the fourth largest city, its crazy traffic and now, one of the largest natural disasters its ever seen, I still feel enormously grateful to be here. I am blessed. I am so thankful that my family is safe, that the rain has stopped, that the sun is out, and that the city is coming together to help those in need.
If you want to help:
To make a financial donation to Hurricane Harvey relief efforts contact these charities:
- The United Way of Greater Houston: Visit www.unitedwayhouston.org/flood or text UWFLOOD to 41444.
- American Red Cross: Visit www.redcross.org, call 1-800-RED-CROSS or text the word Harvey to 90999 to make a $10 donation.
- Salvation Army: Visit www.helpsalvationarmy.org, call 1-800-SAL-ARMY or text STORM to 51555.
via Daily Prompt: Enamored
For this almost fifty lady, it’s like walking the gauntlet at the malls these days. The young kiosk vendors pounce immediately; at first coaxing with artificial compliments and when I say no thank you they become aggressive and soon insulting. Seriously!?!
At one point in Vegas, I told one to fuck off – not one of my finer moment. To make it worse, my grown son was with me and he comforted me with soothing words, but I could tell he was trying not to laugh. And why not? His almost decrepit mother, on the brink of fifty, just told the pushy kiosk vender to fuck off.
Awe the finer moments of life.
I think all of the young, beautiful kiosk vendors hawking their wares in the malls of America should begin by passing out adult beverages with their sample miracle creams. It might make swallowing their condensing,, artificial, back handed. compliments a little easier.
A bit defeated, I found the Nordstrom cafe, a sanctuary for the elderly I suppose. But after a lovely salad and a chilled glass of Chardonnay, I’ve created a moment of loveliness that transcends the lines around my eyes.
We should all create bubbles of happiness moments around us whenever we can. Each happiness bubble will be different for each of us. But anytime you have a minute to wrap yourself up in a happiness bubble do it! Shut the world’s opinion out. Remember that you are FABULOUS just the way you are – laugh lines and all!
“You’re fired,” is that a period or an exclamation point? In my head, I hear a very loud exclamation point. I never sought out to watch the Apprentice years ago, but back then, you could hardly turn around without seeing clips of the infamous “you’re fired” being spouted by Donald Trump.
I never imagined that one of the first reality television moguls, now turned President of the United States of America, would be spouting those same words to members of his staff in the Whitehouse. I wonder if our political system has turned into some warped reality television series leaving the viewers sitting on the edge of their seats wondering WTF? The news continues to rehash the American drama on prime time. Why not? I’m sure the ratings are climbing.
“Under fire…” this morning’s breaking news described gunshots being fired at a Virginia baseball field on the Republican congressional baseball team. Seriously!?! Has the world lost its collective mind? It’s a ballfield. Its summertime. It’s a place of play not a damn warzone! I hear the exclamation clearly this time.
A London tower emblazed in fire burns so swiftly accounts of children being thrown from the building is utterly heart wrenching. What desperation those poor souls must have felt in a moment of pure terror? I don’t even pretend to understand that crisis moment. My gut twists just thinking about the loss and devastation.
And its only Wednesday. It’s only June, mid-year. It’s the year of the Fire Rooster. But does that mean that it’s ok to burn the world down around us?
It’s a harsh reality. But like the phoenix rising from ashes, may we too, as a collective, rise from this horrific onslaught to become a better, stronger society, turning away from violence to embrace peace – happiness – tranquility. This is my prayer for all of us.
Going through an old file I stumbled upon my mothers papers, yellow and wrinkled from age. She’s been gone now for over 25 years and I still miss her. The loss of someone you love never goes away, it just becomes apart of you – ghostly memories that resurrect themselves, like now.
Slipping into her pages, I found this hand written draft she wrote an eon ago about me as a little girl. This is how my mother saw me.
Her words are written below.
Rene is an eight and one half year old girl of mixed blood – white European heritage – with 1/4 Cherokee, Seminole Indian. She weighs 50lbs, is 3 feet 6 inches tall, she wears a size 1 shoe in girls. She has hazel eyes, chestnut brown hair, a powder of big, brown freckles across her snub nose. Rene’s skin is medium light, tans very quickly and rarely sunburns, it is delicate in texture.
Rene slips from a merry little minx to serious studious Miss in a twinkling and in a minute more shes pouring over a trifle, screaching at her brothers or complaining over some imagined hurt to her vanity. She can sit still for an hour but most often she’s moving restlessly about the small apartment, out in the yard or talking for hours on the telephone.
This morning I asked her how old she was. She replayed eight. A moving insight. Most little girls her age would have said almost nine or eight and one half or eight and a half.
– Crystal Thomas Tuchel