Resolutions for 2011

New year, clean slate . . . isn't that the idea?  Some folks take this idea a step further by coming up with resolutions of things they will (or won't) do in the new year, and I definitely fall into that group.  The kind of things I've come up with has changed over the years -- now I'm far less likely to resolve to take one weekend getaway per month and far MORE likely to resolve to wash my hair at least 4 times a week.  Ha!  That's just kind of the state of my life right now.  And, I love it.

We're three weeks into the new year and already some of the things I pledged (in my mind) to do have fallen by the wayside.  So, I've decided to post my resolutions with the hope that by "saying them out loud," I'll be more likely to follow through with them.  So, here goes (in no particular order):

1. Cook dinner 3 nights per week.  (Maybe more, but this is a start.)
2. Clean out the garage so at least one car can park in there.
3. Start keeping a journal again.
4. Go to church more frequently.
5. Go to the gym twice a week. (So far, not good -- I haven't been yet this year!)
6. RELAX.
7. Laugh more.
8. Drink more water, eat fewer cookies.
9. Take the dogs on a long walk at least once per week.
10. Read more.  (Us Weekly & People don't count!)
11. Shop for Christmas all year long.
12. De-clutter & get organized!

Here's to a GREAT 2011!

I just blinked!

Wasn't it JUST August?  I just blinked and now it's the end of OCTOBER!!  Where did the last 2 months go?  Didn't I say that I was going to do a better job at keeping up with a blog this go around?  Hmmm . . . kind of makes me wonder what ELSE I say I'm going to do that ends up also falling through the cracks.  But, I'm not going to think about THAT too long right now.  At least I know Charlie gets fed, laundry gets done, and I'm usually ALMOST on time for carpool every Tuesday & Thursday.  So, I am doing SOMETHING right.

I do have to admit that I sometimes wonder what exactly I do with my time every day.  I mean, we're all given the exact same amount of time to work with -- right?  So, why is it that some people seem to mark everything off their to-do lists each day, cook delicious meals for their families, read a few chapters of a good book in the evening and STILL have extra time left over before bed?  Their pantries don't look like a Jenga puzzle, teetering on the edge of collapse.  And, I doubt their closets look like the Tazmanian Devil got stuck in there with the door closed.  Mine do -- on both accounts.  Both are DEFINITELY 'enter at your own risk' territories.  I shudder just thinking about it.

So, what is it that I do -- or don't do -- with my time that makes me feel SO DISORGANIZED all of the time?  Why I am I so frequently scrambling to find that piece of paper (or new debit card that needs to be activated because the old one is expiring), saying to myself, "oh -- I'll bet it's in THIS drawer (or cabinet)!," only to come up empty-handed?  I'm surprised that one of little Charlie's first sentences hasn't been, "we have GOT to get organized around here!"  He certainly hears it often enough.

Yikes.

And yet, even as I type this, I recognize that much of my time is spent making fun memories -- for Charlie, my friends and family, myself.  I spend a lot of time planning things -- construction themed parties, Halloween parties, dinner parties, showers, fundraisers for Charlie's school.  I spend hours making things -- banners that say "Welcome Baby" or "Charlie's Birthday Worksite", personalized tool belts, cowboy costumes, spiders from styrofoam balls with children at a local orphanage, bedazzled witch's hats for my friends & me.  I spend hours decorating -- with pumpkins on my front porch, with blocks I had my husband cut out of fence posts and paint to look like baby blocks for a shower, with flowers from my yard in a basket on my door, with snowflakes and fake snow for the staff appreciation luncheon at Charlie's school.  Best of all, I spend hours laughing -- while watching Charlie dancing a jig in the middle of the petting zoo at the apple orchard, with my husband and friends during a tour of the cemetery for Halloween, with friends over a glass of wine. 

I have to say . . . disorganized as it may be, life is GOOD.

Where I'm From

Thank you to Joy for sharing this idea. If you want to play along, you can find the template to write one here.

Where I’m From

I am from the hairbrush that became a microphone when Olivia Newton-John, Michael Jackson or Andy Gibb’s voices echoed from my stereo speakers. I’m from Cheerwine and Yoo-Hoo, Krispy Kreme Doughnuts and Richard Petty.

I am from the English Tudor tucked in the woods at the end of a residential street. From the ranch house in the country with white paint haphazardly slapped onto the chain link fence.

I am from the dogwood trees and azaleas that grow in the yard, and the tobacco plant that made it possible for some in my family to make a living.

I am from the place where you can drive a golf cart before you know your multiplication tables and it’s perfectly acceptable to dress a cat in baby doll clothes.

I am from Carl and Norma, Fred and Helen, Sharon and Alan, and Norman. I am from a host of cousins I call ‘aunts and uncles,’ as well as cousins who are more like siblings.  I'm from ‘adopted grandparents’ and a church family that loves me like I’m kin.

I am from “good morning, sunshine,” and “goodnight, love you, see you in the morning.”

From “He made you something special; you’re the only one of your kind,” and “I love you a bushel and a peck.”

I am from the Moravian Church, with its’ Lovefeasts, stars, candlelight services with crimson trimmed candles, and hymns that I still hum and sing as I go about my day.

I'm from the city of Winston-Salem, nestled in the rolling hills of North Carolina. From Cherokee Indians and hard-working people who settled there generations before. I’m from blackberries growing on vines, vegetables from our garden, sugar cake, Dewey’s cake squares and homemade blueberry muffins.

From the woman who agreed to visit her brother’s friend in the hospital, as a favor to her brother, and ended up visiting her future husband. I’m from the man who drove a truck around the country to make a living to support his wife and children.

I am from the school pictures hanging on my Meme’s wall - one for each year from kindergarten through 12th grade, the Kimball organ that I “performed” on, the twin beds that I grew up sleeping in – and still sleep in when I go back to visit. I’m from the little grocery store on the corner, the old water pump in Salem Square, and the folks who know everything about me, and love me anyway.

Stacey's Got a Brand New Blog

I was inspired to start my very own little blog today. I was inspired while reading the blog of a friend of mine. I read several posts, and some made me laugh, others made tears come to my eyes. All of them were great in their own way, and each was just a glimpse into her life, thoughts, plans, hopes, dreams, fears. It made me want to capture some of MY thoughts, dreams, hopes, fears, plans, too. Perhaps if I can lasso some of these things and put them in writing, I can do actually do something with them or about them.

This isn't my first attempt at creating a blog. My first is a family newsletter of sorts -- The Scott Family Times. It's still hanging out there in cyber-space . . . it just hasn't been updated since January 2010. That's certainly not because there hasn't been anything going on in the Scott Family -- quite the contrary. I think it's just overwhelming for me to try to write new posts when I'm so far behind. I see this blog as being much more abstract and fun and likely a cathartic exercise for my own brain.

 

I used to keep a journal, and for years I was pretty diligent about it. I would write a page or two almost every night chronicling what I had done that day, what my plans were, who I was "in like" with, and who I was on the outs with. I still have all of them in an old suitcase beneath my guest room bed. I pull them out every few years and read a few pages. I laugh and cringe at what that young girl had to say and what she thought. I'm amazed by the innocence, ignorance, and optimism. I'm sometimes amazed that I made it through those years. Sometimes I laugh out loud as I read some of the shenanigans my friends and I got ourselves into. And, sometimes the pain I felt as I wrote of bad times feels fresh all over again. I've tried several times over the past several years to begin the ritual of journaling again. I just can't seem to make it work. Most nights, I fall into bed, utterly exhausted after a day of chasing a toddler around, and the LAST thing I feel like doing is writing an entry in a journal. I'm hoping this will be different. We'll see.

As I contemplated what I would possibly write about, aside from the regular ol' day to day updates, I thought of things I love and started making a list in my mind. I could write post on any of the things I love -- such as, Martha Stewart, sweet tea, stationery (invitations, in particular), music and making play lists, the beach, taking pictures, vacuuming, making 'to-do' lists, and having things "just so". I can also write posts on things I DON'T like -- working out, my penchant for procrastination, feeling lonely. Yes, I think I'll have plenty to keep me busy for a while.

 By the way, I've been singing 'Papa's Got a Brand New Bag' by James Brown the whole time I've been typing this post. :)