Something Amazing And Wonderful

A note was in my e-mail this a.m. from someone I have never met.  One of those on-line dating sites buddies.  Taking a brief membership is an excavation into the unknown.  How we present ourselves.  there are the sexual predators, the men from Nigeria, the walking wounded to prey on unsuspecting women.  The women who want a sugar daddy.  The irresponsible.  Society.

This man has shared more drama than I care to hear in a lifetime.  But he has filled me with so many ideas for blogging.  Why would someone I don't know tell me intimate aspects of their life with their former?  I don't care about it.  Nor do I care about their past relationship drama.  Drama I say!  Leave me out of the past.  puleezeeeeeee. 

My note today explained more of his drama.  Then he says, "I got on a path that I apologize for going down.  Tell me something amazing and wonderful." 


Amazing and wonderful.  Umm, you tell me.  I haven't heard anything from you that was amazing and wonderful.  I did hear some silliness in the beginning.  That was fun until you spoke about fairies and such.  Hey, maybe there are fairies out there. So, my friend, you need to tell me something amazing and wonderful, that is, IF you want me to continue to write.

Arggh.

Graduation Address

I am more than ecstatic to be here!  Hello world.

Of course it would have been nice to receive a formal letter, asking me to speak to all of you on this beautiful May day.  You didn't and I will not hold that against you.  You probably invited one of the Kardashian women instead. I suspect they turned you down first. 

This isn't going to be your normal graduation address.  It will be eclectic.  Graduating from college isn't a big deal.  It is a big deal to graduate into a more evolved self.  I hope you do that throughout your many lives.

Many of you already know that I was socialized by a spirited, independent Mother who had post graduate work in physics.  That she made my wedding dress and tuned my car isn't miraculous.  It is just who she was.  She got things done.

Many of you already know that I was socialized by a naturalist kind of father.  He preferred to be in the woods, organizing a community event, or teaching first aid or ballroom dancing. 

We won't go into the undeveloped emotions of my parents.  They were who they were as I am who I am.  You get to be who you are, too.  Without these fascinating parents, I wouldn't have the opportunities I have had.  I might even have been a hoarder.  Did I just say that?

The one thing I always wanted was a loving family.  Career wasn't high on my list, though I knew I would always be involved in community service.  It began at eight pouring sodas at baseball games in a Coca Cola vendor both.  My father was the baseball commissioner.

I got a loving family.  To know my children is an honor.  I couldn't be more proud of them.  Watching them grow is my greatest joy.

Fame and fortune were never on the list.  I did want to live well, Marrying at twenty-two meant this woman was young.  Much younger than your typical twenty-two year old.  There was no long term plan.  I didn't need one.  Living in the now, though I didn't know it then would be the road I took.  Combine this with a woman who loves to plan.  I like to plan anything.  Except the impending move.  I am working that through.  I will like it soon.  Maybe even today. 

My graduation speech for you is to be true to who you are.  Society is usually in turmoil, it is the nature of people.  Coming from an English family, I was told not to speak up.  Few people did then.  Not only was it rude, it could cost you.  Cost you in friendships, jobs, community.  Imagine this as a child of the 60s when people were speaking up.  Mostly about social values.  People are speaking up more in the workplace.  I think that has quickened in the past ten years.

But tell your truth.  Speak up for injustice, for children, for older folks.  Speak up to your friends.  Do it well.  Speak up to your lovers.  Don't let anyone put you down.  Ever.  Don't accept the status quo.  Education is about opening the mind, not making money. 

In 1969, I was working in a hospital in Baltimore.  There was an opening in the laboratory and I applied for the position of Supervisor.  The Brit turned American who would ultimately be my boss, told me he wouldn't interview me.

"You're going to have a family.  Come on.  You won't be focused on work.  This job need someone who isn't distracted. It isn't you.  It is because you will marry, have a family."

It took me about half a minute to collect myself.  This guy has to be kidding.  I was raised without a glass ceiling, without limitations, only the ones I would impose on myself.  Okay, it is important to note that there was a fair amount of verbal and emotional abuse in my family of origin.  But you could be anything you want.  As long as it was in the sciences.  It has to be quantified.

So I didn't get the job.  I got the guy and married him.  I never once thought of him as a meal ticket.  I did think he was my best friends.  For years.  And then I grew and wanted a different lifestyle.  You will have to invite me back for another commencement speech to hear that story.  It is a good one.

I also want to speak to the women in the room.  Don't walk behind your spouse or significant other.  Be a person in your own right.  Sharing pets, children, housework.  And for Heaven's sake, do not placate anyone.  Speak your truth.

Wherever you go, what ever road you travel, be the Walter Mitty.  Try it all out.  Break the rules and that doesn't mean drugs or speeding.  Ask more of society, ask more of yourself.  Find your peace.  Let the folcrum reset itself.  Be easy on you.  And go get 'em.

Calming

Writing calms me.  My system is a bit nervous.  Change has never been hard for me.  Ever.  I am feeling overwhelmed.  I know it is just my thoughts about what is happening.  Now it is affecting my colon.  Probably more information than you needed or wanted to know.  But it is what it is. 

I need/want to get out of my head.  A friend wrote me a note about dogs.  She said how much she loved her, mourned them when she lost them but will wait for a better time to get another one.  You all know by know I love my little pooches, but I am really...really not a dog person.  At least not two untrained pooches.  My doing.  I bought them organic bones and just gave them to both dogs.  They are busy and very happy to have something to chew upon.  It is analogous to my writing.  Calming. 

Sometimes when I need calming I chew on something as well.  It isn't bones, mostly something crunchy.  Maybe I was a canine in another life.  Probably eaten by a larger being. 

My head is slowing now.  The vibrations are calmer. 

Now the dogs moved apart from one another.  The chewing is more tenacious now.  They don't want to risk losing their individual bones to the other.  Competitive little beings they are.  I just removed the lampshade, err e-collar from the larger dog because I had to wash her face earlier.  The collar is drying and I will put it back.  The vet wants it on her until Tuesday, making it two weeks since mole removal.  Both dogs, I am happy to report, are doing well. 

I am doing better now, too.  My hands don't feel so tight.  My shoulders are lower, my feet are up.  I'll need a pedicure in a week.  Geeze, I am sounding like Nora Ephron - so stream of conscious.  What a loss.  I would like to have known Nora.  My kind of person, though probably more wired than I.

My eastern philosopher teacher has been on my mind recently.  Nearly called him the other day.  Wanting to hear his calming voice.  My own 'reframing' and 'reminding' had a glitch apparently.  I usually cook when I need calming.  I am not in my own kitchen.  I will be soon.  Cookies away, or a soup.  Soup are nice to make.  I like the chopping.  

My sinuses have been acting up with all the rain.  The mold clogs me. No doubt due to my irritability (chakra issue) with all I needed to do.  Today I will spend in calmness. Nothing to do at all this weekend but eat and rest.  Chocolate is in the grocery bag.  I'll have a field day with it.

This house is lovely but anything but efficient.  I appreciate the exercise I am getting with all the steps.Being in the moment now.  Breathing is getting easier.  Sinuses are opening.  The sun is out!

I'm Already Missing

It isn't even moving time and I am already missing much:

the birds from my office window
the raccoons playing havoc on bird feeders (the love and hate of it all)
watching my dogs in the backyard as they spot wildlife
waking up in my bed looking at the mountain range
the laughter of friends as I sit in front of them while we dine
hugging my friends
decorating my house (and yes, my once weekly moving of furniture in the living room)
driving to Franklin over Cowee Mountain
driving into Asheville from the coast
the Balsams on 23/74
fall
spring
the bulbs popping up in the garden
a regular size washer and dryer
remembering my former self before I forgot what I did the day before, or five minutes ago
the smile on my face before I stopped smiling when I awakened each morning

Thank you for everything, Nora

Nora Ephron, my all time favorite screenwriter died.  I loved her wit and style.  She just did it!   I can't say this better than did the New York Times:

Advertise on NYTimes.com

Nora Ephron | 1941-2012

Writer and Filmmaker With a Genius for Humor

Jonathan Wenk/Columbia Pictures

Nora Ephron on the set of her 2009 film, “Julie & Julia,” starring Ms. Streep, seated. More Photos »

By CHARLES McGRATH

Published: June 26, 2012 429 Comments

Nora Ephron, an essayist and humorist in the Dorothy Parker mold (only smarter and funnier, some said) who became one of her era’s most successful screenwriters and filmmakers, making romantic comedy hits like “Sleepless in Seattle” and “When Harry Met Sally...,” died Tuesday night in Manhattan. She was 71.

Multimedia

Slide Show

Nora Ephron

Interactive Feature

The Films of Nora Ephron

TimesTalks: Nora Ephron

Related

• An Appraisal: From Sharp Edges to Sugary Success and Back (June 27, 2012)

• ArtsBeat: Nora Ephron, the Queen of Quips (June 27, 2012)

• Diner’s Journal: At the Table, Nora Ephron Knew Best (June 27, 2012)

• Diner’s Journal: Nora Ephron Never Forgot the Food (June 27, 2012)

• Times Topic: Nora Ephron

Op-Ed Articles by Nora Ephron

• Opinion: iToo ...Could Have Known Steve Jobs. Or Did I? (October 16, 2011)

• Op-Ed Contributor: Who Are You? (August 12, 2007)

• Op-Ed Contributor: The Six Stages of E-Mail (July 1, 2007)

• Op-Ed Contributor: What to Expect When You’re Expecting Dinner (September 13, 2006)

Enlarge This Image

Librado Romero/The New York Times

Nora Ephron in 1998 on home turf, the Upper West Side. More Photos »

Readers’ Comments

"When I most needed it, she made me laugh. I love her and I'll miss her. "

farhorizons, philadelphia

• Read Full Comment »
• Post a Comment »

The cause was pneumonia brought on by acute myeloid leukemia, her son Jacob Bernstein said.

In a commencement address she delivered in 1996 at Wellesley College, her alma mater, Ms. Ephron recalled that women of her generation weren’t expected to do much of anything. But she wound up having several careers, all of them successfully and many of them simultaneously.

She was a journalist, a blogger, an essayist, a novelist, a playwright, an Oscar-nominated screenwriter and a movie director — a rarity in a film industry whose directorial ranks were and continue to be dominated by men. Her later box-office success included “You’ve Got Mail” and “Julie & Julia.” By the end of her life, though remaining remarkably youthful looking, she had even become something of a philosopher about age and its indignities.

“Why do people write books that say it’s better to be older than to be younger?” she wrote in “I Feel Bad About My Neck,” her 2006 best-selling collection of essays. “It’s not better. Even if you have all your marbles, you’re constantly reaching for the name of the person you met the day before yesterday.”

Nora Ephron was born on May 19, 1941, on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the eldest of four sisters, all of whom became writers. That was no surprise; writing was the family business. Her father, Henry, and her mother, the former Phoebe Wolkind, were Hollywood screenwriters who wrote, among other films, “Carousel,” “There’s No Business Like Show Business” and “Captain Newman, M.D.”

“Everything is copy,” her mother once said, and she and her husband proved it by turning the college-age Nora into a character in a play, later a movie, “Take Her, She’s Mine.” The lesson was not lost on Ms. Ephron, who seldom wrote about her own children but could make sparkling copy out of almost anything else: the wrinkles on her neck, her apartment, cabbage strudel, Teflon pans and the tastelessness of egg-white omelets.

She turned her painful breakup with her second husband, the Watergate journalist Carl Bernstein, into a best-selling novel, “Heartburn,” which she then recycled into a successful movie starring Jack Nicholson as a philandering husband and Meryl Streep as a quick-witted version of Ms. Ephron herself.

When Ms. Ephron was 4, her parents moved from New York to Beverly Hills, where she grew up, graduating from Beverly Hills High School in 1958. At Wellesley, she began writing for the school newspaper, and in the summer of 1961 she was a summer intern in the Kennedy White House. She said later that perhaps her greatest accomplishment there was rescuing the speaker of the house, Sam Rayburn, from a men’s room in which he had inadvertently locked himself. In an essay for The New York Times in 2003, she said she was also probably the only intern that President John F. Kennedy had never hit on.

After graduation from college in 1962, she moved to New York, a city she always adored, intent on becoming a journalist. Her first job was as a mail girl at Newsweek. (There were no mail boys, she later pointed out.) Soon she was contributing to a parody of The New York Post put out during the 1962 newspaper strike. Her piece of it earned her a tryout at The Post, where the publisher, Dorothy Schiff, remarked: “If they can parody The Post, they can write for it. Hire them.”

Ms. Ephron stayed at The Post for five years, covering stories like the Beatles, the Star of India robbery at the American Museum of Natural History, and a pair of hooded seals at the Coney Island aquarium that refused to mate.

“The Post was a terrible newspaper in the era I worked there,” she wrote, but added that the experience taught her to write short and to write around a subject, since the kinds of people she was assigned to cover were never going to give her much interview time.

In the late 1960s Ms. Ephron turned to magazine journalism, at Esquire and New York mostly. She quickly made a name for herself by writing frank, funny personal essays — about the smallness of her breasts, for example — and tart, sharply observed profiles of people like Ayn Rand, Helen Gurley Brown and the composer and best-selling poet Rod McKuen. Some of these articles were controversial. In one, she criticized Betty Friedan for conducting a “thoroughly irrational” feud with Gloria Steinem; in another, she discharged a withering assessment of Women’s Wear Daily.

But all her articles were characterized by humor and honesty, written in a clear, direct, understated style marked by an impeccable sense of when to deploy the punchline. (Many of her articles were assembled in the collections “Wallflower at the Orgy,” “Crazy Salad” and “Scribble Scribble.”)

Ms. Ephron made as much fun of herself as of anyone else. She was labeled a practitioner of the New Journalism, with its embrace of novelistic devices in the name of reaching a deeper truth, but she always denied the connection. “I am not a new journalist, whatever that is,” she once wrote. “I just sit here at the typewriter and bang away at the old forms.”

Ms. Ephron got into the movie business more or less by accident after her marriage to Mr. Bernstein in 1976. He and Bob Woodward, his partner in the Watergate investigation, were unhappy with William Goldman’s script for the movie version of their book “All the President’s Men,” so Mr. Bernstein and Ms. Ephron took a stab at rewriting it. Their version was ultimately not used, but it was a useful learning experience, she later said, and it brought her to the attention of people in Hollywood.

Her first screenplay, written with her friend Alice Arlen, was for “Silkwood,” a 1983 film based on the life of Karen Silkwood, who died under suspicious circumstances while investigating abuses at a plutonium plant where she had worked. Ms. Arlen was in film school then, and Ms. Ephron had scant experience writing for anything other than the page. But Mike Nichols, who directed the movie (which starred Ms. Streep and Kurt Russell), said that the script made an immediate impression on him. He and Ms. Ephron had become friends when she visited him on the set of “Catch-22.”

“I think that was the beginning of her openly falling in love with the movies,” Mr. Nichols said in an interview, “and she and Alice came along with ‘Silkwood’ when I hadn’t made a movie in seven years. I couldn’t find anything that grabbed me.” He added: “Nora was so funny and so interesting that you didn’t notice that she was also necessary. I think a lot of her friends and readers will feel that.”

Ms. Ephron followed “Silkwood” three years later with a screenplay adaptation of her own novel “Heartburn,” which was also directed by Mr. Nichols. But it was her script for “When Harry Met Sally...,” which became a hit Rob Reiner movie in 1989 starring Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan, that established Ms. Ephron’s gift for romantic comedy and for delayed but happy endings that reconcile couples who are clearly meant for each other but don’t know it.

“When Harry Met Sally...” is probably best remembered for Ms. Ryan’s table-pounding faked-orgasm scene with Mr. Crystal in Katz’s Delicatessen on the Lower East Side, prompting a middle-aged woman (played by Mr. Reiner’s mother, Estelle Reiner) sitting nearby to remark to her waiter, indelibly, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

The scene wouldn’t have gotten past the Hollywood censors of the past, but in many other respects Ms. Ephron’s films are old-fashioned movies, only in a brand-new guise. Her 1998 hit, “You’ve Got Mail,” for example, which she both wrote (with her sister Delia) and directed, is partly a remake of the old Ernst Lubitsch film ‘The Shop Around the Corner.”

Ms. Ephron began directing because she knew from her parents’ example how powerless screenwriters are (at the end of their careers both became alcoholics) and because, as she said in her Wellesley address, Hollywood had never been very interested in making movies by or about women. She once wrote, “One of the best things about directing movies, as opposed to merely writing them, is that there’s no confusion about who’s to blame: you are.”

Mr. Nichols said he had encouraged her to direct. “I knew she would be able to do it,” he recalled. “Not only did she have a complete comprehension of the process of making a movie — she simply soaked that up — but she had all the ancillary skills, the people skills, all the hundreds of things that are useful when you’re making a movie.”

Her first effort at directing, “This Is My Life” (1992), with a screenplay by Ms. Ephron and her sister Delia, based on a novel by Meg Wolitzer about a single mother trying to become a standup comedian, was a dud. But Ms. Ephron redeemed herself in 1993 with “Sleepless in Seattle” (she shared the screenwriting credits), which brought Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan together so winningly that they were cast again in “You’ve Got Mail.”

Among the other movies Ms. Ephron wrote and directed were “Lucky Numbers” (2000), “Bewitched” (2005) and, her last, “Julie & Julia” (2009), in which Ms. Streep played Julia Child.

She and Ms. Streep had been friends since they worked on “Silkwood” together. “Nora just looked at every situation and cocked her head and thought, ‘Hmmmm, how can I make this more fun?’ ” Ms. Streep wrote in an e-mail on Tuesday.

Ms. Ephron earned three Oscar nominations for best screenplay, for “Silkwood,” “Sleepless in Seattle” and “When Harry Met Sally....” But in all her moviemaking years she never gave up writing in other forms. Two essay collections, “I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Reflections on Being a Woman” (2006) and “I Remember Nothing” (2010), were both best sellers. With her sister Delia she wrote a play, “Love, Loss, and What I Wore,” about women and their wardrobes (once calling it “ ‘The Vagina Monologues’ without the vaginas”) and by herself she wrote “Imaginary Friends,” a play, produced in 2002, about the literary and personal quarrel between Lillian Hellman and Mary McCarthy.

She also became an enthusiastic blogger for The Huffington Post, writing on subjects like the Las Vegas mogul Steve Wynn’s accidentally putting a hole in a Picasso he owned and Ryan ONeal’s failing to recognize his own daughter and making a pass at her.

Several years ago, Ms. Ephron learned that she had myelodysplastic syndrome, a pre-leukemic condition, but she kept the illness a secret from all but a few intimates and continued to lead a busy, sociable life.

“She had this thing about not wanting to whine,” the writer Sally Quinn said on Tuesday. “She didn’t like self-pity. It was always, you know, ‘Suck it up.’ ”

Ms. Ephron’s first marriage, to the writer Dan Greenburg, ended in divorce, as did her marriage to Mr. Bernstein. In 1987 she married Nicholas Pileggi, the author of the books “Wiseguy” and “Casino.” (Her contribution to “Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure,” edited by Larry Smith and Rachel Fershleiser, reads: “Secret to life, marry an Italian.”)

In addition to her son Jacob Bernstein, a journalist who writes frequently for the Styles section of The Times, Ms. Ephron is survived by Mr. Pileggi; another son, Max Bernstein, a rock musician; and her sisters Delia Ephron; Amy Ephron, who is also a screenwriter; and Hallie Ephron, a journalist and novelist.

In person Ms. Ephron — small and fine-boned with high cheeks and a toothy smile — had the same understated, though no less witty, style that she brought to the page.

“Sitting at a table with Nora was like being in a Nora Ephron movie,” Ms. Quinn said. “She was brilliant and funny.”

She was also fussy about her hair and made a point of having it professionally blow-dried twice a week. “It’s cheaper by far than psychoanalysis and much more uplifting,” Ms. Ephron said.

Another friend, Robert Gottlieb, who had edited her books since the 1970s, said that her death would be “terrible for her readers and her movie audience and her colleagues.” But “the private Nora was even more remarkable,” he added, saying she was “always there for you with a full heart plus the crucial dose of the reality principle.”

Ms. Streep called her a “stalwart.”

“You could call on her for anything: doctors, restaurants, recipes, speeches, or just a few jokes, and we all did it, constantly,” she wrote in her e-mail. “She was an expert in all the departments of living well.”

The producer Scott Rudin recalled that less than two weeks before her death, at Weill Cornell Medical College and New York-Presbyterian Hospital, he had a long phone session with her while she was undergoing treatment, going over notes for a pilot she was writing for a TV series about a bank compliance officer. Afterward she told him, “If I could just get a hairdresser in here, we could have a meeting.”

Ms. Ephron’s collection “I Remember Nothing” concludes with two lists, one of things she says she won’t miss and one of things she will. Among the “won’t miss” items are dry skin, Clarence Thomas, the sound of the vacuum cleaner, and panels on “Women in Film.” The other list, of the things she will miss, begins with “my kids” and “Nick” and ends this way:

“Taking a bath

Coming over the bridge to Manhattan

Pie.”

Be The Change

My wish is to be accepted for who and what I am.  It's just after four a.m.  I haven't slept well lately.  Lots of things are on my mind.  Am I so different than anyone else?  Things bother me.  Not every thing, but some things.

I remember my own thirties.  I was the expert. Wanting to 'fix' my own mother.  I was the newer generation.  Newer ideas.  Again, an expert.  Mostly.

No one is given training in the business of mothering.  We have all the skills and limitations brought from our own childhood.  We are convinced we won't do this to 'our' children.  We also won't gain weight like our parents.  "I'll never look like this" is whispered by many offspring.  I whispered that to my parents, too. 

The other day I said to a gal pal, "What if we are given a certain amount of endurance, and, we work off that? Over time the ability to endure, wears thin."  It feels like that to me.  Only sometimes.

Another part of me says, "You are just fine as you are.  It's other peoples' issues."

"But Mom, we want MORE for you.  We love you and want you to be happy."

I wish we didn't have that conversation.  It only makes me feel worse.

Recently another gal pal said to me, "I wish you could see your beauty.  I wish you weren't so hard on you."  This, I must confess comes from a woman who has a history of abusive spouses.  She is in a really good place in her life now.  Though her possessive, no longer abusive husband doesn't want her to have friends, or spend time with them.  She is a part time friend.   Mirrors, my friend, mirrors. 

I was upset with her because she put up with this for so long  Mirrors, blogger, mirrors.

We see in others what we do not have for ourselves.  Mostly.

I don't want to be critical.  I don't want others to be as well.  It always.  All ways comes back to this.  Be the change.

Role Reversal

Tonight at dinner my daughter - 35, who is about to start her family shared some insights. 

"Mom, I am worried about you, you seem vulnerable - emotionally.  I think this is affecting you physically."

Me: "Me, vulnerable?  I took flying lessons, I can fly an airplane.  What's to be vulnerable about that.  I'm an adventurer.  I drove 1,025 miles to see you, each way.  On numerous occasions.  I've met you in foreign countries.  What's to be vulnerable?"

Daughter;  "Mom, you don't have your pilot's license."

Rollercoasters

Sitting on the red ultra suede sofa in the family room the smell of burning wood permeates the room.  The slider is open and the chickens are clucking.  Air traffic is especially high at Pease today.  Obama was in and out just a day ago.  The sounds of the aircraft are strange - very metallic. 

Thunder fills the sky and my dogs are nervous.  I'm on the telephone with the second moving company.  Rates by phone. It is a strange way to do business.  It isn't progressive; it may be expedient.  I'll let you know when the dust settles.

The pooches are now in their individual kennels.  Howard the estimator plays in my head.  He must be a New Yawker.  I don't do anything fast when it comes to money. They are slowly starting to relax. Boom!  More thunder.  The kennels rattle.  I'll turn on the tv to distract them. 

It feels like a rollercoaster ride.  Up and down.  Waiting for the fulcrum to settle.  Either way, I am uber excited to live here.  It feels just right. 

Much To Do About...

Are you one of those people that likes to keep up with things.  Maybe a list maker?  I sure am.  Right now my list consists of a folder with a legal pad.  Nearly every page has notes with a category at the top.  Comcast, Health Insurance, Auto Registration, Voter Registration, Apt. Contract.  I like working from a desk or a counter.  Standing up.  It feels like I accomplish more that way.  A stand up desk.  A stand up comedian? 

Gosh, it is funny.  All this stuff.  Everyone talks about it.  How did we get life so complicated?  Stop the train! 

As I sit on the sofa (I have no desk here), the laptop hot on my legs, I wonder what in the heck I am doing.  Why? 

My son and his family will be staying with me in August.  I move in two weeks to the condo.  This most likely will necessitate a trip back to NC soon - flying this time, dogs in a kennel, renting a car.  I am hoping to meet with a moving company who will estimate my stuff and move it within a week and a half. Then a simple fly back to my new home in the Granite State.  I shant worry on that now. 

My stress level has been way too high for too long. Why haven't I stopped the stress?  I often do.  I think it comes down to two variables, my little dogs.  I love them dearly but they are way too much work, too unpredictable.  I want to be dogless.  The sad truth. Yet I wish them no harm.  I just didn't put in the time to train them.  They are mountain dogs.  They don't walk well on a lead.  They drag me down the road. Cesar would shake his head.  I am not good enough for them because they annoy me with their naughty little habits.  I want more for them.  More for me.  I am not ready to part with them.  Mostly. I wouldn't trust anyone to care for them. I wish I knew someone who would. 

It's all in my head.  Really.  Much to do about...nothing.

Doing Business

Why is everyone in such a hurry? 

35 minutes going from one wrong transfer to another with Frontier Communications to cancel my internet service with them.  Then 30 minutes with a Comcast agent, most of which I couldn't hear.  Now I am doing this on the phone without the aid of a listing of channels.  I heard about every third word the agent spoke at a rapid fire rate. 

Did I mention I do NOT like sales people?  Tantamount to a bunch of liars and cheaters.  This is the fourth person I have spoken to.  Four is my lucky number.  I hope.

My lawn guy is planting sitting.  Better yet, he is taking my plants, at my request, to his home and will care for them for eight months.  He isn't a plant guy.  Here is hoping. They did well last summer in my absence.  What's another six months?

I couldn't thank him enough.  Such a kind man.  What would I do without a support team? 

So now I am in a hurry to slowwwwwwww down. 

Memories

Today I looked at pictures of the house.  Sadness overcame me.  So may memories.  I have nothing, absolutely nothing but gratitude, appreciation for my southern Appalachian experience.  I am more than better for having it. 

You know when you made a good decision that you are so excited about it.  There are no negatives, only opportunities.  The universe opens to you.  You feel as though you are in the zone. 

Knowing I am finally.  F I N A L L Y.  Close to my family is a dream come true.  Moving here followed a dream.  But as my children settled down, it became a hardship living so far away.

Going home to pack up will be strange.  I will take four days to make the trip.  That way, I can function in the getting ready to move mode.  Driving here this time meant that for about 4 days post travel my mind and body were still going.  It is a terrible feeling.

I'm already missing my things.  Every thing.  A coffee pot.  A vacuum cleaner.  A full length mirror.  More clothes. 

Today I went dish shopping.  I am buying white dishes.  Maybe cook wear as I have none here.  And cleaning supplies.  They leaked all over the bag despite the fact I tightened the tops before putting them in the car.  Things leaking have come in threes - a pipe in my daughter's house, one in my son's.  And of course, leaky cleaning stuff.  How suiting for me. 

Two Eggs, No Ham

It was dark inside the chicken coop at 1:30 p.m. when I took this photograph.  A canopy of hardwoods and evergreens, tall narrow pines, oaks and a few others made it difficult to get better clarity.  But you can see one egg is lighter than the other. 

Can you guess whose is whose?  I was absolutely delighted to find these eggs.  They had been coming in dribs and drabs the last week.  Hot weather is not conducive to producing eggs.  Especially in chickens.  They have a delicate constitution.

So here is the gift ~ two eggs. No ham. The only ham are the personalities of Izzy and Buffy.  They cluck and squawk to get my attention.  Characters!

Opening And Closing

It's been terribly hot in this woodsy cabin.  Now that a few thunderstorms have come and gone, the temperatures are finally dropping some.  I cooked in this house because I couldn't figure out the New England style air conditioning.  It is not whole house or central. It is located in the ceiling. 

For the most part I have just tried to open the sliders.  Just about every slider and window has a problem opening and closing.  The catches don't seem to catch.  The new sliders have plastic connectors.  Ugh.

The other day, I thought I secured a great cabin in Rye.  Then I learned the owner had a fee for just about everything. It wasn't even a nice cabin.  A friend wrote me reminding me as one door closes, another opens.  Very Sound Of Music and I love it!  I thought a bunch about his reminder. 

Then I was reluctant to open too many sliders and windows because the ones I did open do not close well.  A strange metaphor.  A few minutes ago I decided to open a low bedroom window.  It has one of the crank out windows.  Well it barely cranked out.  Every window has crank irritability.  I opened it a tiny amount, letting delightful fresh air in and the arm under it detached.   The message is get the heck out of this cabin.  Now.  Soon. 

I like simple systems.  Central air conditioning if I need it.  Windows that open and close with ease.  A home in good working order.  Soon I will have it.

When one door closes another opens.  The adventure continues.

The Hamptons

The fiery energy of the day is helping you press on with projects you have in the works. Set things in motion now, Scorpio. Move out of the background and onto center stage. Your rocket is fueled and ready to take off. All you have to do now is ignite the engine. Use the power of your emotions to deliver a boost that will propel you to the stars.

I did press on.  And found a nice condo with all the amenities I want.  A friendly place already.  It makes these next few weeks a whole lot nicer now. I really need a vacation and I plan to begin it now.

So much to do to get ready for the move.  I feel like a bag lady in that I have few belongings here.  Enough to get by until I get my things in 7 months.  2013 is soon enough to leave the snow belt for the Bible belt.

There are so many feelings I have for my adopted southern community.  So much appreciation.  So much joy.  So many wonderful memories.  I'll need to get the house sold, too.  It is hard to run two homes.  And lots of stuff to clean out. Minimize!

On this first night of vacation, I plan to plant myself in front of the tube. Tomorrow I will go to a craft fair.  And swim.  Maybe go to one of the Maine outlets to buy pots and pans.  I could use some suggestion on cookware.  Then to buy white dishes.  I have longed for them. 

The kitchen has a pantry which I greatly appreciate.  A balcony that gets the morning sun and backs up to the woods.  Two bedrooms, two baths. 

Balance

Morning keeps coming early.  Up at 5 a.m.  I don't want the dogs in their crate any more than they are.  The owners of the house do not want the dogs upstairs.  That is the only place I can use the computer as their system is very 1980s.  The signal doesn't carry to the basement level.  So I am up and down all day long.  It is inconvenient but great exercise.  Now that I said 'inconvenient' I want to take it back.  Life is inconvenient. 

I've always been an efficiency expert.  My childhood hero, next to Walter Mitty was D.W. Griffin.  Scientific Management. Whoa.  That really bumps with mindfulness, doesn't it?  Therein lies the dilemna.  What could possibly be inconvenient about oneself? Ut oh.  Need to be with that one.

Still, I don't like hunting for my stuff.  How did we gather so much stuff to begin with? 

Let me interject how delightful it is having New England's version of air conditioning.  Can I be more grateful about anything?  Thank you.

The Farmer's Market in town is always a great happening.  It is large, you can eat a meal there, buy chicken, sausage, just about anything.  Very nice crafts, too.  A great networking place. 

I'll pop by and see if anyone has a rental apartment that would love my dogs.  We're an eclectic sort.  I can see where I like - or better yet, got used to living away from people.  Less complications and here I go again...inconvenience.  Sure, barking dog noise travels anywhere, especially on my mountain in NC.  I wonder why I can't feel more content there.  I know the answer easy enough.  My family is not there.

Family is everything to me.  Always has been.  So here is the rub.  Part of me is afraid...afraid I won't find a place where we can thrive.  Afraid I will have to go back south where I feel stuck.  Like I am done there.  Like spirit is calling me here.  Maybe the lesson is in the inconvenience of it all.  Or, in just letting things fall where they are.  It is a delicate balance for sure.  I'm in my head too much up here.  I felt that on the drive north.  A repetition of last summer.  No.

Not Too Well

I find apartment hunting more than stressful.  It makes me physically ill.  So many variables to contend with.The list:

dog friendly, hopefully without a monthly fee and/or one time fee
garage
snow plowed
A/C - prefer central A/C (hey, I've been living in the south a while:))
grass is mowed
washer,dryer in unit
1-2 bedrooms
first floor only
800-1,000 square feet
lots of sunlight
hardwood floors

price friendly $850-1250 plus utilities not over $200 a month.


Oh, and an honest landlord.  We think Wall Street is corrupt. Helllllllllllo.

The thing is this.  I am done with the south.  Finito.  I've been ready to be here for 18 months. In my own comfy place.  I loved the south for years. My heart will always hold a place for my adopted southern community and my friends.  They are the best.

My family is expanding and I am needed here.  I want to be here.  I feel wholly different here.  More complete.   Now I need a place to be.  A condo fits the bill.  And I have two dogs. 

A huge thank you to my daughter who figured out this contraption of an air conditioning system in the ceiling.  So many things to learn in New England.  Because of her, I can sit more comfortably on the lovely second floor of this home.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Five Hours

For the past five hours, I have tried to get help for the chickens.  Or the squirrels.  Well, both. 

The squirrels, all two of them, got into the chicken run.  Somehow the bungy cord holding the chicken coop door open shut the door. That is where their water is.  It is also the area in which they lay their eggs.  As an aside, you need to know when the owner was here, the eggs were laid beside the door.  My first morning here, one egg was at one end, the other close to the door.  Fool me once.

The last couple of days, the eggs have been close to the door.  Within my reach.  It is nasty, more than nasty to reach your arms across the coop.  Yuck.  But the owner of the house is exceptional.  I like helping her out.  She left me with three plus pages of things to do and know.  Resolving this issue was not in the list.

Enter 96 degree heat.  Chickens don't handle stress well.  Am I profound or what.  In lots of venues. They have been squawking every time I come near.

"Mom, please help.  It's hot in here.

I get it.  I really do.  I don't want any casualties on my watch.The couple that stopped by also have chickens.  They resolved this problem.  The woman in the pair suggested I get a pan or something and put it in the chicken run.  Me?  Hardly.  No way am I going into the run.  First, I'd have to undo the chicken wire.  Not in my job description.  My effort is going toward finding a rental for myself and my two canines.

Jessy is having a rough adjustment.  She doesn't like the E-collar.  Molly washed her face tonight.  It was so dear.  She wanted to comfort her.  Molly is the best big sister. 

I wish I could let my girls run free.  Maybe tomorrow.  Outside.

Scams, Fraud on Craig's List

I am big on responsibility.  No where on Craig's List site is there anywhere to mark someone who is committing fraud or a scam.  This is identical to others I have received. Take a look at what I received inquiring on a rental:

Thanks for your swift response regarding my property,the house is currently vacant and it is available for move in.

The rent fee is $800 per month and the security deposit is $500,Utilities like
washer,dryer,gas,electricity,Dishwasher,Electric Stove, Fridge are included in the rental fee and pets are allowed,i am a Construction engineer and i am currently out of the Country to Head a construction project in West Africa and my stay here will be for 5 years so i would love a Long term lease.

I want you to drive by the property and view the exterior and i assure you that you will love it,as soon as you have done that get back to me ASAP so we can proceed further.

Address of the house:11 Central Street #1, Town, State,USA.

RENTALS APPLICATION
FIRST NAME:__________________
MIDDLE NAME:_________________
LAST NAME: __________________
PROFESSION: ________________
HOME PHONE (____) __________
(CELL)PHONE (____) __________
(WORK)PHONE (____) __________
KIDS _____ (YES/NO), HOW MANY ________
PRESENT ADDRESS: _____________________
CITY: _______________
STATE: ______________
ZIP CODE:____________
HOW LONG DO YOU INTEND STAYING? ____________
WHEN DO YOU INTEND MOVING IN? ______________
HOW SOON CAN YOU HAVE THE DEPOSIT PAYMENT SENT TO ME___________________________
HOW SOON DO YOU WANT TO RECEIVE THE KEYS AND DOCUMENTS OF THE HOUSE___________________________

Await your response with the filled Rental Application form.
You can also reach me at +2348083392130   OR  0112348083392130
Thanks
Terrie Hale

Meet my charges.  Izzy on the right and Buffy on the right.  There is a new visitor, Le Squirrel, who from time to times pops in.

This is the famous York Lighthouse. I have a penchant for them.  Maybe some time I will get to spend the night in one.  Even see a ghost!

The York, Maine beach.  Peaceful.  One of my favorite places to be.  My car is just next to the large boulders on the bottom of the page.

Stuff...just stuff

Today was take the pooches to the vet day for mucho mole removal.  Just got them back.  Jessy has on an E-collar for 14 days.  Molly doesn't.  Both are resting comfortably in their crates.  Mom has to carry them in and out - especially Jessy.  She can't navigate too well with the E-collar.

Before I picked them up my friend called for an early Happy Hour.  It wasn't quite long enough and we will surely do it again soon!  There is nothing like gal pal company!  Laughter, silliness, good times.

I am feeling comfortable in my new digs.  In my new state.  All I need is the right dwelling to rent and we are good.  Soon enough.

As I look out the window I see a squirrel inside the chicken coop area.  The top and sides are completely enmeshed.  So how did this critter sneak in?  I suspect the same way it disappeared.

Tomorrow and the next day or two shall be in the 90s.  Interior and exterior plants and containers are all watered.  The chickens have been watered and fed. 

And exhausting day.  A good day. 

Tomorrow is play day.  A trip to the ocean.  Again.  Can't get enough of it.

Meet Izzy and Buffy

Maybe in a few days I will include my new charges, Izzy and Buffy.  Izzy is a Rhode Island Red Chicken.  Buffy is an Orpington chicken.  As chickens go, they are nice chickens, tasty eggs, though I am not much of an egg eater, at least my research says they are tasty. 

My dogs have been introduced to the chickens.  Today, my clueless sweetie pie, Jessy, flew into the poultry wire and rebounded nicely.  The chickens squawked and everyone went back to business.  Neither Jessy nor Molly have much experience with chickens.  About as much as I have.

Every morning the water gets changed, scratch is tossed into their fully encased pen.  I pick up two eggs.  They were laying in the corner opposite me.  Contrary they...were.  Today, two eggs were found close to the door to the chicken coop.  Thank you Izzy and Buffy. 

I'll replenish their chicken meal as it is needed.  The wood shavings will have to stay as they are - fresh and clean now but they will need cleaning when the owners return.  There are limits to what I do.

Nell and Chip left me lots of food.  There is apricot cheese, yogurt, lots of cold cuts. My daughter sent me a care package.  Isn't role reversal the best?

What I would like is the fly swatter.  I want the bugs...outside.  But that is the nature of living in a woodsy area.  Lots of nature.  I'd also like to find the watering can. I did see it.  Somewhere. 

The refrigerator makes strange sounds.  Like there is life inside.  It must be some energy saving device.  There are lots of them in this house. 

No doubt the chickens are in the coop for the night.  I am about to retire to bed for another wonderful sleep.  Per a chance to dream.

Nature Knows

It's cool for mid June, almost a fall evening.  Awakening this morning to a cacophony of birdsong and an early morning sunrise.  The cool ocean breeze brought a day as bright as it should be. 

I'm sitting near the window in a coffee shop while a que of folks wait to be seated.  It reminds me of online social dating sites.  I won't order a la carte.  I like the mystery of a relationship unfolding. The anticipation, the surfing of profiles, an eclectic menu.  My finger traces the wonderful choices about to unfold.  I don't want to miss a thing; I'll ask questions, see if there is a fit.


Driving IA along the Maine coastline this morning just after breakfast, I stopped to take in the undulating waves.  Pulling in, pushing out.  It is a lot like relationships.  A lot like nature.  It is a beautiful thing.  When did it become so serious?

We put ourselves out there and look from side to side.  Ever the turtle carrying its security on its back.  It is steadfast.  No expectations.  Only the now.

A cardinal flies across the deck in the forest.  Playful squirrels and chipmunks want to get close.  A central twelve foot fireplace holds a stack of dried hardwoods.  Evenings get cool here, too.

It will be Monday soon enough.  My thoughts are of the abundance of life; close friends and family who encourage, laugh, cry.  Their honesty and humanity touches my heart.  I am grateful to be a part of their journey, as well.

Hello, New Hampshire

One of the delicious things about going into New Hampshire is crossing the Oyster River. There are two bridges.  I had just been in town a couple of hours when I stopped to visit a close friend.  About one mile from my daughter's home, I heard a enormously loud sound coming from the right rear section of my car.

There was no where to pull off so I stopped on the bridge.  Emergency lights flashing, of course.  The tires, all of them, seemed fine.  I drove a bit further.  Then I noticed it.  A very flat tire.  AAA came in twenty minutes and replaced the punctured tire with the donut.  Punctured into the tire was what appeared to be the grab bar from a large truck, possibly an 18 wheeler.  Punctured and twisted.  The mechanic struggled to remove it.  The tire is wasted.

Tomorrow, I will get another tire at the dealership.  Then I am off to a block party in Maine.

I am happy to be here, appreciative assistance came promptly.  I am also grateful to the young hottie - oh was he hot, who stopped to see if I needed help.  I am happy to be with my family.  Hapy indeed!

Day Two

We're on the road again. Thanks Willie Nelson for the line. 

Some of American is back to work ~ especially in the road construction business.  I counted at least a dozen traffic detours, cattle chutes, etc.  I am not sure what they are doing.  Hopefully, it is all legitimate work.  It hasn't always been.  But that...is another story.

Driving north through Pennsylvania there was the limest green grass I have ever seen in grass.  Reminescent of a picture I want to paint.  I was hoping to see this color on my travels.  It is always a treat to cross the Hudson River.  The valley is absolutely gorgeous.  I studied Hudson River Valley School of painting in college.  The colors were always dark, not like the colors seen with my eyes.  Maybe earlier painters revealed a more polluted time? 

Stopping in Connecticut, one of my favorite states, and one in which I wanted to live.  Snowball got a bath, exterior only for $8.  That is a steal for Connecticut.  Gas here is $3.80 ish.  Could that account for higher gas taxes? 

Speed limits once in New York and Connecticut are 55 mostly.  New York State Troopers were everywhere.  Clearly, their budget is in trouble.

Tomorrow I will check in for a look see at the cabin where I will be staying.  Maybe later a drive along the seacoast. 

I have a friend that lives in Maine. Visiting with her will probably be in a week or two.  Probably stop in to see a dear friend who works in Portsmouth.  No doubt we'll see a concert or two in the next month. 

Next week I have a meeting with a rental realtor, oil change, and another drive along Maine's incredible jagged coastline.  I'll be boating soon.  For sure.

Snowball And The Road

No room left.  Filled to the gills.  A little fete.  And a good exercise in minimalism (cough).  Hardly, but a gal needs what a gal needs.

And snug as a bug room for my little friends above in the cargo area. There are restraints for them and very soft bedding.  they do travel comfy. No doubt this is what they will be doing on the trip.  The one on the right is limping so being stationary will be good for her.  

So off we go
With two in tow
The road it isn't long
I'll write a song
And paint and blog
In sunshine and in fog


To my friends here and yond
I won't be far, just by the pond
My family beckons me to come
We want you here, closer, Mum
It won't be much to haul
They're watching for Snowball

Robert Frost (1874–1963).  Mountain Interval.  1920.

1. The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;	5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,	10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.	15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.	20

Maine Cottage

I love the Maine cottage look.  Comfy, colorful with a touch of the reclaimed forests mixed in.  It is a look that says, "C'mon in, I have the tea pot on."

Take a look:

lhttp://www.cottagehomemaine.com/index.html

Over time, the mountain house has taken on this look.  After all, we are 75% water. 

Another fav store in Rye, NH:

http://www.summerhousefurnishings.com/furniture.html

I'll be sure to keep you informed how my search for housing and furnishings go.  It's going to be a whole lot of fun.

No More Doorknobs!

It was a hot summer day when I locked myself out of the house after driving home from the coast. A first. When a credit card didn't work to unlock it (is there a trick to this?) I proceeded to knock off the doorknob with a hammer. As you can tell from my current pictures, I am a petite woman and apparently not as strong as I thought I was. Although I did succeed in doorknob destruction, my efforts still would not unlock the door.

Even a screw driver prying it gently did not work. I know why people wear baseball caps now. To keep their hair out of their eyes. By now you must have quite a visual. Fortunately for me, a neighbor came by with my house key. I got the door knob off (from the inside) and now had a hole a tad bigger than the knob. I hired a carpenter who applied Bondo, reattached a new knob.

So what do I really want? I want a best friend above all, someone to share thoughts, travel, life and someone handy, you know, in the rare case of doorknob removal. There are so many things I enjoy - hiking, traveling, yoga, mindfulness, meditation, philosophy, beliefs, rollerblading, the arts, new experiences.

What excites me? I like eclectic people; people who are open, confident, sensitive with lots of interests. He would be someone who makes our relationship their first priority while finding that delicate balance of inter-dependence.

A loyal and passionate person (did the doorknob story reinforce that?), I enjoy energetic people, people who have ties to their community, love the outdoors, reading a good book, and perhaps discussing it. I love to explore through travel, conversation and intimacy. It is important to be in good shape.

If you are between 60 and 65, live in the eastern U.S. send me a note.

I'm Back!

It is so good to be back.  Don't know why I deleted last year's blog.  None-the-less, it feels like home again.  Some 4,000 viewers checked this blog out.  I hope you enjoyed it.  Do come back!

It won't be long until we are on the road again!  This time in Snowball One! 

Tell me what stories you enjoyed from last year.  What you wanted more of. 

I'll be checking out some new cafes and restaurants.  Places off the beaten path.  See you soon!