Adventure, Art, Books, Lifestyle, Positivity, Reading, Travel, Washington DC

Reading and Travel: Past and Soon

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I’m at about the halfway mark with my self-imposed challenge for this year of reading 24 books. Not as far as I thought I’d be at this juncture, but I’ll get there.

One of the books I very much enjoyed is “Life in Five Senses” by Gretchen Rubin.

Essentially, Gretchen, a writer in NYC who pens self-reflective non-fiction, has a moment in her eye doctor’s office that gets her thinking about how she takes her eyesight for granted. This gets her pondering about her sense of hearing, touch, taste, and smell. As a result, she decides she’s going to do a deep exploration of her five senses and document her findings along the way.

She decides to start, naturally, with her sense of sight. She proceeds to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art on a daily basis. She often did it solo, which is how I most enjoy visiting museums. I felt a kinship with her along with a little slice of envy. She noticed different things on various pieces of art as time went on. Depending on the time of day she was there, the light would hit differently and change the way she saw them.

The Envy Part: I’ve never lived in NYC, nor have I even visited there. I hope to, someday (visit, that is). As a teenager in the ’80s, I would fantasize about living in a NYC brownstone, working as a journalist for Rolling Stone, and meeting up with friends after work for happy hour in one of the many chic nightclubs there. To have the ability to take myself to the Met whenever I pleased as she did for this book-well, I’m envious.

The Kinship Part: The last time Mr. NOA and I traveled to Washington, D.C. together (me as his “plus one” as this was a work trip) was in December of 2022. I took the Metro into D.C. from Silver Spring, Maryland, and visited some Smithsonian museums. It gave me so much pleasure to walk around and check things out that I was interested in at my leisure. I wrote a blog post about it, which included pictures I snapped on my journey while Mr. NOA was busy with work meetings. Yet I never published it.

In fact, I tried looking for it in my “trash” folder but poof! it’s gone. I guess the trash eventually takes itself all the way out, right?

I have no great reason for not publishing it. Maybe it was due to the vibe of the city feeling off in my mind, as the U.S. was coming out of the Covid-19 era and so many businesses had shuttered. Climate change was evident as there was nary a flake of snow on the sidewalks and the temps were strangely mild. We even saw some roses still blooming. It was just a different experience for me than the last time we had been there (December of 2019). The energy was just so subdued. I always like to stay positive in my blog posts, and I guess I just couldn’t muster an acceptable level of positivity to warrant publishing that particular post.

Here’s one picture I took during that trip.

From the Smithsonian American Art Museum-I love this truism: “We are Made of Stories”

Next month, I will be joining Mr. NOA on another work trip to our nation’s capital. I am hopeful and jazzed about this trip. Hope is in the air, as we appear to be on the cusp of moving forward with our country’s leadership. You might think me naive, but I believe the energy in our nation’s capital will reflect this sense of hope. I’ll spend time between now and then researching online what new exhibits I can explore solo at the Smithsonian and elsewhere in D.C.

Any suggestions you have for me (of either the books to read or sites to see in D.C. variety) in the comments are most appreciated!

As a grateful American as well as a fan of The Chicks, who is fascinated with the history of the intersections of pop culture and American history, I leave you with this outstanding version of The Star-Spangled Banner.

Lifestyle, Mental Health, Relaxation, Self Compassion, Self-Care, Storytelling

Massages for Self-Care: Yay or Nay?

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Personally, I say a big fat “Yay!” when it comes to getting a full body massage.

In fact, I just had one the other day. I won’t have another one for probably three months, however, as my talented and very pregnant massage therapist will be on maternity leave for a while. I’m not planning on finding a substitute for her either, because I believe it’s unlikely I’ll find anyone as good as her and heck, it might be nice to save myself a little bit of money.

I started getting massages on a regular basis probably 12 years ago. Mr. NOA and I would pay for the lovely Anna to give us deep tissue massages every 2 weeks or so. She was so good at her job. She was friendly and easy to talk to as well. I would often spend most of the massage chatting with her about the trials and tribulations of parenting, and my work life.

I had such a good connection with her that I was comfortable enough to ask her a question that had been simmering in my head since she started giving me regular massages. I asked her if clients ever farted while enjoying her massages. She replied that they most certainly did and it didn’t faze her at all. She told a story about a male client who often would fall completely asleep on her table and let ‘er rip. She laughed as she told me this and assured me she would not be offended if I had to release some gas myself during my sessions with her.

When I get massages from my current massage therapist, we typically chat for the first few minutes about the weather or what we’ve been up to since my last massage. After that, I zip my lips and just let my body melt beneath her heavenly (and suprisingly strong) hands.

It took me a few sessions with her for me to feel comfortable not being chatty the whole time. It begs the question for those of you reading this today who also are fans of massage therapy: do you feel compelled to chat with your massage therapist when they’re working on you? Or are you more of a “melter” as I have become?

I remember a client I had, back when I was a social worker, who had MS (the relapsing- remitting kind). He got regular massages. It seemed to help him quite a bit. I always believed that, due to him being anti-social and paranoid, his massage therapist was likely the only other human who laid their hands on him, like ever. He lived alone, had few friends and generally did not seem to like people. This always struck me as heartbreaking. I think we often undervalue the power of human touch.

I’ve been in therapy for a few months now (the mental health variety). Recently, my therapist asked me a question I don’t think any other person has ever asked me: what are you doing for self-care? It caught me off guard, and all I could manage was to say that writing is my primary mode of self-care. Not writing just to post in this blog of mine, but writing for just me. It helps me sort through what I’m thinking and feeling and it often gives me needed perspective.

But that’s not all I do for self-care, obviously. The massages I get are deeply relaxing and stress-reducing. Petting and talking to my good boy Radar is a form of self-care. Spending time in the sunshine is a form of self-care for me. Writing a to-do list and checking things off as I go is self-care for me. It give me a sense of accomplishment; a little boost.

Whether or not you, my readers, enjoy massage therapy as a form of self-care, I’d love to read any comments you’d like to share about what specifically you do that falls under the self-care umbrella.

As always, I am ending this blog post with a song. This one is not only gorgeous but fitting for the relaxing and contemplative vibes I experience when I’m on that massage table.

Grandparenting, Happiness, Humor, Joy, Storytelling, Summer Fun

The Alphabet Game

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Over the 4th of July weekend, my daughter, 10 year-old grandson and I went on a road trip together to visit family and friends.

As we were making our way up to the “Northland”, my grandson was immersed in playing games on his tablet in the backseat. After a while, I could hear the voice of one of those young adult “gaming bros” on their YouTube channel going on in their annoyingly enthusiastic manner about whatever game they were playing.

The grandma in me decided I had enough of that business. I suggested, with no actual confidence that this suggestion was going to be embraced by the kid, that we could play the “alphabet game”.

You know this one, right? I can’t imagine it was just my family (actually, me and my Mom, Bonnie) that played this on long car rides.

Anyway. It’s a simple game. All you do is start with the letter “A”. You “spy with your little eye” that one simple letter. You might find it on a sign. Or on the license plate of the vehicle that just passed you. Then, of course, you loudly exclaim “I found an A!” and proceed onto the letter “B” and so on until you get to “Z”. The first person who gets all the way through the alphabet wins.

Thankfully (or perhaps not, as it became a bit of an obsession over the course of the weekend), the kiddo latched onto this suggestion of mine with gusto.

Playing this game with him on this road trip was a huge highlight of this grandma’s summer. The “Alphabet Game” did the following wonderful things: it gave this bright boy a mental challenge. It gave us an opportunity to interact with each other for a sustained period of time. It got him off that obnoxious “gamer boy/man” YouTube channel so my daughter and I didn’t have to suffer through it any longer. It gave me a great memory. My hope as this boy’s grandma is that he was imprinted with a great memory too.

Baby, this kid is a firework indeed.

Gratitude, Lifestyle, Minnesconsin, Photography, Summer

It’s Sunday and I’m Still Here-Where Are You?

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So.

How is YOUR summer going thus far?

Have you been able to enjoy the outdoors in whatever way you prefer?

Have you taken at least a little bit of time to rest and rejuvinate?

My answers to these questions would be thus:

Fantastic. Busy, but I hate that word because it connotes that I’m in some way special, important, “above it all”. Let’s just say that my social calendar is fuller than usual these days. This is not a complaint. Nor is it a “brag”.

Spending time outdoors for me this summer has been hit and miss. Largely because of all the rain we’ve been getting here in Minnesconsin. But today is Sunday and we’ve got a lovely family get-together planned at my in-laws on this sunny, blue-sky, calm wind day so outdoor time with the people I love so much is happening.

I’m going to do something a little weird here and pause my train of thought for a musical interlude. This is a wonderfully written and very 60’s groove-ily performed piece of music, IMHO.

I wouldn’t say that I’ve taken much time to rest and rejuvinate this summer. Again, not a complaint nor a “brag”. But, I would add the word “yet” to my answer. Mr. NOA thankfully has completed a years-long work project as of last week and he’s taken several days off starting this month and through the end of September. For this, I am grateful. It means that personal rest and relaxation are on the horizon for me, as the Mr. will be free to pick up a bit more slack (of the household variety) as well as occupy himself with outdoor projects.

One thing I’ve been focusing more on these days is photography. Though, I feel that calling it “photography” is a bit much. It’s just me using the camera on my cell phone every now and again. For no great reason, I often neglect to take pictures of family and friends (as well as me and Mr. NOA), amidst our gatherings, but I have been enjoying taking pictures of my environment.

Here’s a few:

I wish you all the best vibes on this beautiful Sunday!

Speaking of beautiful vibes, here’s a song that, to me, embodies them like few others do.

Memory, SocialAnxiety, Work

Superpowers

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Recently, I attended a work conference where we were directed to pick a name from a bowl, then find the person with that name over the course of the conference. We were told to introduce ourselves to our person and share with them what our “superpower” was.

Much internal debate ensued about if the “superpower” was supposed to be directly related to our roles in our workplaces. I landed on that I was “really good” with names and numbers. In that, I believe my brain retains them better than the average bear.

The person who had my name (Lacey) said that is her superpower too, adding that she had a “photographic memory”. Me too, I said. Of course, as I’m returning to my seat, my anxious brain started asking questions about that. Do I really have a “photographic memory”? Was that too much for me to claim? So of course I googled the term and came to the conclusion that no, that is not something I have.

Per Merriam-Webster.com: photographic memory

noun

: an unusual ability to remember things completely and exactly as they were seen, read, etc.

I am good with names and numbers, though. At least 95% of the time, after having met someone once, then seeing them again, say two months later, I will remember their name. And when it comes to numbers, my brain is so weird. I don’t consider myself good at math, but I tell you, I remember dates and phone numbers.

For instance, I can tell you that one of my best friends in middle school, the curly-headed SueEllen, celebrates her birthday on June 5th. I can remember that the landline phone number I had, 20-some odd years ago, was 894-8447. I’m enamored with the number 8, as I’ve written about muchly over the years on this blog. I notice the number 8 everywhere I go; perhaps I’m searching for it subconsiously because it’s the one number that appears over and over again for me when good things happen. Who knows with these things.

I don’t think it’s a stretch either for me to say that you’d be a fool to not include me on your trivia team.

What’s your superpower?

Perhaps you could ponder that question while you enjoy today’s musical offering.

Gratitude, Happiness, Lifestyle, Relaxation, Simplicity, Summer, Words

Lollygagging Season is Here

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I love the word “lollygagging”. I don’t know where it came from, but let me Google it to satiate my curiosity.

For me, it means lazing about. Taking one’s own sweet time. Such a luxury when we can do that, right? Just going at our own pace without the pressure of having to get something done in a set amount of time.

Yep, I’m right. It’s akin to dawdling or dilly-dallying (two other words I adore). It’s an Americanism that first appeared around the 1860’s.

From dictionary.com: “To lollygag is to dilly-dally, dawdle, loaf around, or goof off. If you’re lollygagging, you’re wasting time by moving slowly or doing something less important than what you should be (or doing nothing at all).

Lollygag is primarily used in the United States. It is synonymous with the very similar spelled lallygag, but lollygag is more commonly used. Both are very informal.

Example: Coach yelled at Spencer for lollygagging at practice.“

I’m so damn good at doing lollygagging. It’s like a skill of mine. Only it’s not useful-though it could be argued that it’s useful on a personal level in that it calms me. It gives me a sense of peace. Especially if there’s no other human in my midst to disturb my dawdling, lollygagging joy.

My favorite and most natural space in which to lollygag is in the early-ish morning hours while I’m still in bed. I’ve never been one to jump out of bed, ready to rock when the alarm goes off. My body is completely relaxed. I’m by myself (Mr. NOA is a life-long early riser), so I can do a big ‘ol stretch and not push anyone to the floor in the process. Sometimes, my brain is still hanging on to the last images from the dream I just had. The opaque sheers are blowing slightly against the bedroom windows, prompted by the air coming through the floor vent underneath it, as if breathing. The room is quiet and semi-dark. I’m sleepy and beginning to vaguely ponder what the day may have in store for me. I yawn and glance towards the end of the bed, where my beautiful boy Radar is laying and yawning too.

It’s luxurious and blissful and quite possibly my favorite part of the day.

On another (musical) note, let me share with you a song I heard recently for the first time. It is certainly going on my summer playlist to enjoy when we’re out lollygagging on our pontoon.

Ambition, Anxiety, Blogging, Creative Writing, Fun, Inspiration, Life, Overthinking, Personal Growth, Self-Reflection

F is for Fun!

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Let me start this post by acknowledging that I haven’t published a single blog post since March. I inadvertently gave myself a bit of a time-out. I’ve been working things out in my head in regards to this writing-out-loud thing called blogging. As an anxious people-pleasing overthinker, I imagine this will continue until the end of time.

I started writing what follows a few weeks ago.

Fun, for me at the moment, is working through the alphabet one little-post-that-may-never-see-the-light-of-day at a time. A self-assigned creative writing exercise, inspired by the “A to Z” blogging challenge. I’m just going at my own pace like the squirtoise I am, and purposefully not overthinking. Just going with the very first word that comes into this brain of mine, starting with the letter “A”.

I am curious, blogger and writing friends, do you also create writing challenges for yourself? If so, please share them with me in the comments!

The one thing that has always compelled me to write is because I find it to be so much fun. Stringing words together that capture how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking about tickles me. It’s a challenge for my brain that lights me up from the inside. And the possibility that someone out there in the universe (or blogosphere at least) might relate to the things I’m saying through my writing fuels me.

In tandem with my A-Z writing game, I’m working out (still, after 7 years of blogging) how important this blog is to me. I think I’ve been giving it more of my mental energy than is wise. When I factor in working (albeit part time), nurturing my personal relationships, taking care of our house and yard, and working on myself (remember, “Growth” is my WOTY and I’m sticking with it), blogging is not my highest priority. Not like it should ever be.

Now, this isn’t me saying “I quit!” by any means. It’s me challenging the rules I have put on myself as an amatuer writer with a blog. Examples: must I publish something every single week? If so, why? So, I may or may not publish something next week.

I leave you with a song that means a lot to me. It has spoken to me since the first time I heard it. As a 57 year-old here on planet Earth in the year 2024 who is perpetually searching for ways to bloom and grow, I find it very inspiring. I hope you do too!

Blogging, Dogs, Humor, marriage, Storytelling

My Mister’s Nickname: the Back Story

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A while back, I was inspired by another blogger to re-consider how I refer to my husband when I’m writing blog posts.

Like me, how she referred to her husband wasn’t working for her. Since I started this blog (7 years ago!), I’d been calling my husband “Hubs” in my blog posts. I knew that it was inevitable that I’d be writing about him at least some of the time, since this is a personal blog after all, so I chose “Hubs” as his online moniker.

The thing is, though, I never, like ever, refer to him as “Hubs” to his face. Or when I’m referring to him in conversations with others. All I knew is that I didn’t want to use his actual name in this space, lest I inadvertently share something in a blog post that would somehow cause him embarassment. So, “Hubs” it was.

When I gave it more thought, a few months ago, it occurred to me that there was an alternative name for him in this space. Something I have only called him. Something between us that we both understand and laugh about: “Mr. None of the Above” (“Mr. NOA” for short).

As I recall, the first time I called him this was during a long, boring drive from one state to another. It was very late at night. We were both hungry. Hangry, actually. So, we agreed it was high time we stopped to get something to eat.

Now, my husband will attest to this statement: he is a pickier eater than I. I mean, he’s not ridiculously picky, mind you. There’s plenty of things he absolutely loves to eat that I will not touch with a ten-foot pole. Examples: pickled herring, sweet potatoes, cauliflower. And, of course, there’s things I love to eat that he wants no part of: corn in mexican dishes, ketchup on my scrambled eggs, and most sweets.

That night, in our hangry state, I suggested two different options of places to get some grub. I believe it was Subway or McDonald’s. Being more finicky about what he eats, had his own idea: Perkin’s. We could sit down and relax, he said, not just eat on the road in the dark. It then occured to me just how often I would suggest various options (not just food related) and the man comes up with an altogether different choice. So now, I call him Mr. None of the Above on a regular basis. He will invariably have his own idea in any given situation, often one that I hadn’t thought of.

A more recent example: I told him that I thought we ought to adopt a cat for Christmas this past year. Radar has lived with a cat before and it went well. They weirdly shared food and sometimes even sat on the same couch together. After a bit of discussion, I suggested we just be content with having access to our daughter and her boyfriend’s puppy, Max. He and Radar get along famously after all, and they only live 20 minutes away from us. And Mr. None of the Above’s suggestion? “Let’s adopt a puppy!” One that has recently been weaned, he said. “What?! A teeny-tiny baby puppy?” I said, in shock. Then we talked some more about that particular option. We were in agreement that because Radar does so well with Max, playing with him, but also watching out for him and corraling him when they’re frolicking in the yard together, this might not be the worst idea ever.

Yet I can’t say I’m completely convinced we should or will ever do it. Maybe I’ll just hang on and see if Mr. None of the Above comes up with an alternative.

Ambition, Books, Frugality, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Reading

My 2024 in Books…so far

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My moment with reading continues. I just finished book number 5 of my “24 books in 2024” goal.

I came into this whole endeavor thinking that I’d focus on the classics that I hadn’t yet read and/or the books that are up for being banned in some circles (because there’s a little rebel inside of me). As time has gone on, however, I’ve let go of what I think I “should” read and instead have embraced books I want to read.

Not that I haven’t read or won’t read any classics or those potentially being banned this year or beyond.

In my initial blog post about my aim to read “24 in ’24”, I essentially congratulated myself on obtaining a library card. I pictured myself making weekly trips to the library, taking time to peruse and come away with books that would make me feel or seem smart.

Alas, I haven’t exactly done that. Because I love thrifting with my whole heart, I’ve been browsing the book shelves at area thrift stores (where I can also find cool things like “I’m a Scientist” t-shirt featuring the face of Carl Sagan for Mr. NOA and springy “Knox Rose” brand tops for myself). The bonus, aside from the guilt-free retail therapy buzz that thrifting provides me with, is that I don’t have to return any of these books. I buy them at a deep discount, and then if it’s a book I really dig, I can pass it on to another reader.

“Another reader” being a friend, my MIL, or even an unknown recipient via one of the many little free libraries around these parts. Note to self: Mr. NOA has, since last Christmas, been gifted every single thing you can imagine to create things out of wood-I can legit put building a little free library on his list of things to create.

So, back to the books I’m reading/have read thus far in 2024.

I’ve read a self-improvement book that taught me how to start new, positive habits as well as how to track and stack them (Atomic Habits by James Clear). I’ve read a very strangely haunting yet at times oddly humorous book that re-iterated how god-awful war is (Slaughterhouse Five, by Kurt Vonnegut). I’ve read a beautifully tragic book about misfits, loneliness and disappointment in small southern town America in the 1930’s (The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers). I’ve read a book about the meaning of life, death, and grief (Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom). And I just finished a kid’s book about the history of humankind, which thus far has 2 volumes (Unstoppable Us, by Yuval Noah Harari). This one is for my grandson, who I’m thrilled to report, has become an avid reader at the age of 10. I can’t wait to discuss it with him.

Next up is…well, I’m not sure yet. I purchased a few new-to-me books while thrifting recently and I’ve not decided which one to read next. I welcome insights on which of the books I now own that I should dig into next.

Here’s the lineup:

“The Moment of Lift” by Melinda Gates

“Hillbilly Elegy” by J.D. Vance

“Where’d You Go, Bernadette” by Maria Semple

“Fahrenheit 451” by Ray Bradbury

“Water for Elephants” by Sara Gruen

I also intend to circle back to the book suggestions you, my fellow readers, gave me when I first announced my reading goals for 2024.