Remembering Daddy

I’ve always been a Daddy’s Girl.  From the time I was a little girl, if I wanted something, I was pretty sure “My Da-aaddy will get it for me.”  And, he usually did.   But, a few years ago, the heart disease he’d been battling for most of his life finally won.

Daddy and me at Disney World the summer after I graduated from high school.

This past Sunday was Daddy’s birthday (And, yes, I called him Daddy and still do.  It’s a Southern thing).  He would have been 62 years old.  Way to young too not be here anymore.  Because it’s his birthday week, I’ve been thinking about him a lot.  His hands mostly, his fingers were like hot dogs and his palms as large as saucers.  Big and round and strong and rough and callused, stained from tobacco and working outside for so many years.   They always looked a bit dirty, even when they were clean.  He had large wide nails, very pink, the white part a bit yellowish.  He kept a pocket knife in his pocket and he would clean under his nails all the time.  Another Southern thing.  Don’t ask me why, I have no idea.  I’ve seen my brother and uncles do the same thing.

He always wore a pinkie ring with diamonds in it.  He also always wore a wedding ring, and sometimes other rings, and maybe a bracelet with big gold links.  Daddy liked his bling.

Daddy circa early 80's.

I have a couple of his rings and sometimes I take them out.  They won’t even fit on my thumb, they are so large.  My sister-in-law has one of them too.  She cut it down so she could wear it.  My fingers are too small for even that.  So, I keep them in my jewelry box and I take them out occasionally and smile and remember Daddy.

What is it about Daddy’s hands?

He had a big laugh and a wide smile too, his hair still a little blonde and fading back from his forehead.  I have his forehead.  Luckily, my hair isn’t fading back from it.

I don’t know why I remember his hands more than any other part of him.  I remember them working on the car.  I remember them picking me up.  I remember them holding my baby.

I remember them laying at his side in his coffin.  I remember my nephew, eight years old at the time, slipping a pokemon card in his right hand before the funeral director closed the lid.

It makes me cry to think about it.

I still miss him so much.

He always called me Chelle, and “Baby Girl”.  If he left me a message on my voice mail it would always be “Hey Baby Girl, it’s yo Daddy.  Call me.”  He was Daddy and I was his Baby Girl until the day he died.  It didn’t matter that I was almost forty at the time.  I was still and always would be his Baby Girl.  I call my daughter the same thing.

Daddy about ten years ago with my baby girl and my nephew.

As I’m writing this, it’s hard to see through my tears.  It’s been five years and I miss him every day.  He’d be so happy I’d moved back home.  That Sunshine and I were close enough that he could see us every weekend.  He’d be thrilled that Sunshine had gotten into her favorite college and everyone up at the local bar would know about.  When my brother’s new baby was born last year Daddy would have stolen him away to the local bar to show him off to all of his bar buddies.  He’s missed a lot by being gone.  And we miss him.

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

Breakfast of Champion…Readers

The incomparable Jenny Crusie had this link on her blog and I had to share.  What a way to start the day!!  Go to Gizmodo.

This particular toaster is not yet available, but once it is what a way to start the day!!

I wrote something!

I had a dream that turned into a scene!  Okay, it’s two people I’ve never met for a book I’m not writing (No, it doesn’t go into the book I’m supposedly writing) and I have no idea what going to happen with it, or what I’m supposed to do with it, Buuuuuut – I wrote a scene!

And for today, that’s enough.

5 Pictures to NOT have on your profile

So, in an effort to continue with Man Plan ‘09, I signed up for eHarmony.  Mostly because I’ve done Match.com and I was curious about the eHarmony process.

Once I filled out the exhausting, and exhaustive, personality profile, I clicked on “My Matches” and was instantly…under-whelmed.  I’ll post about how I went through 176 matches and came up with ONE guy later this week.  Today, I want to talk about what kinds of pictures NOT to post on your profile.  Because seriously?  Some people need a clue.  So, I’m going to talk to the guys today.  Listen up and take notes because I’m not always this helpful. ☺

Here goes my lovelies, Auntie Chelle’s Top Five Pictures to FOR GODSAKE NOT POST ON YOUR PROFILE:

1. Pictures of you on a motorcycle, in your convertible, or on your four-wheeler.  Yes, YOU think you look cool.  The women who are looking at you?  All we see is a guy straddling his mid-life crisis.  Really, we’re pretty much over that before it starts.  The only exception to this rule is you on a horse.  We’re all suckers for a guy on a horse, and yes it probably does bring back memories of Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming, and yes we’ll deny it until our dying breath because damnit we can take care of ourselves, but — we still think a guy on a horse is hot.  Otherwise, take it down.

2. Pictures of you with any woman who looks to be of date-able age.  Okay, maybe she really is your daughter/cousin/sister/coworker/First-grade teacher/whatever.  To the women looking at your profile?  It looks like you’re trying to convince us you’re shopping in Victoria’s Secret for your mother and we’re not buying what you’re trying to sell. Take it down.

3. Dead Animals.  No, I’m not kidding.  I live in the South, so maybe it’s just my neck of the woods, but of the 176 matches eHarmony sent me, I counted no less than four men who’ve posted pictures of themselves holding the head of a dead deer.  Really guys, we prefer to think that our meat grows in those little white styrofoam dishes.  And while I know there are women who either don’t mind hunting, or are maybe hunter’s themselves, I still say put down the dead dear picture and back away.  Leave a little mystery.  Dead animals aren’t hot, cool, or romantic.  They’re gross.  Take it down.

4. Any picture of you dressed in camouflage holding any kind of weapon, and no I don’t care if it’s a toy or Halloween.  Again, maybe it’s because I live in the South but there was definitely more than one guy who thought this was a good idea.  It doesn’t matter. Weapons are only hot for other guys and I’m assuming if you’re popping up under my matches you’re looking for a girl.  Take it down.

5. Any picture of you not smiling or not looking directly at the camera or wearing sunglasses.  We want to see your face and eyes.  If we can’t see your face and eyes, we immediately start wondering what you’re trying to hide.  And that picture your sister took of you in your sweats watching football?  Not sexy.  Take it down.

6. Any picture where you are part of the background.  I added this one at the last minute because I just saw this on a new match I got today.  The guy had put a little caption under the picture to tell me that he was in the background, third from the left.  Uhhhh, no.  If the picture you’re posting isn’t of YOU, take it down.

Think of your profile and the pictures you post as your “interview suit”.  Make sure it’s clean, doesn’t smell, and most of all, represents you.  If you’re conservative, then “wear” that blue suit and crisp white shirt.  If you’re in a creative field, then you’re going to be able to get away with not wearing a tie.  But, be on your best behavior.  If you don’t think you can be charming without coming off as smarmy, then at least be respectful and nice.  A good rule of thumb: don’t say anything in your profile, or post any pictures, you wouldn’t want your grandmother to read or see.

Here’s the deal: your picture needs to be a good shot of your face.  Take off the ball cap, comb your damn hair and smile.  And don’t give me any of that crap about you can’t find or don’t have a good picture of yourself.  Just about everyone these days has a digital camera and almost all of them have a timer.  Get out the manual, figure out how the timer works, put the camera on a flat surface, and take pictures until you get a good one.  If you’re not sure about the pic, then ask a woman friend.  Trust me, they will be more than happy to help you.  We looooove to do that kind of stuff.

You know what we think when we see all those pictures I talked about?  We think you don’t really want to be there.  That you’re half-assing it and secretly hoping no one will contact you.  Well sugarplum, you’re going to get your wish.

If you want us to contact you, or respond to your “ice breakers” and “nudges”, etc then we need you to BE YOU.  Because YOU are who we’re looking for, and we can tell when you’re not keeping it real.  And, okay, maybe you are Hunter-Harley guy.  Fine. Good.  No problem.  But remember, you’re on an interview.  Put your best foot forward.  Tell us all that other stuff later.  First, let us fall in love with your pretty face, nice manners and clean suit.

More than anything though, act like you want us to think you’re hot!  I’ll let you in on a little secret, if we’re on a dating site we WANT to think you’re hot.  We WANT to find you romantic.  We’re there because we’re looking for our freaking Person and we WANT it to be You.

Don’t screw it up by making it easy for us to click Next.

The Times They Are A Changin'…Or At Least A Movin'

Helloooo!

Well, things are changing here in Chelle-land.  Because I’m looking to do some new things with blogging over the next couple of years, I’m moving away from LJ.  For now, I’m going to try out Wordpress, which means if you want to read whatever I’m rambling about, you’ll need to go there.

For the time being, here’s my new link:

www.chellewrites.wordpress.com.

Now, in a bit (as in as soon as I figure it out) you’ll be able to go directly to:

www.chellewrites.com.

But, I’m still figuring that part out.  I’ve almost got it, I just need to get Paypal to cooperate and I’m done! (I think.)

Oh, and I’m starting a brand new thing.  As you guys know, since I spew here fairly frequently, I’m getting ready to be an Empty Nester.  However, I don’t think that means what it used to mean.  So, I’m starting a brand new blog to chronicle all the ways my nest is not so empty.  Here’s that link:

www.mynotsoemptynest.wordpress.com

Which will soon become (again, the Paypal thing):

www.mynotsoemptynest.com

I hope to see ya’ll over there!!!

Love,
Auntie Chelle

Hello world!

Hello!!  Thanks for dropping by.  I’m doing a bit of redecorating, but please come back soon and see if you like where I’ve moved the furniture, so to speak, lol.

Man Plan '09. The Time is Now!

Since I started dating again, it’s kind of amazing how many women I’ve met who are also paddling up the same river. A couple of weeks ago, I went to dinner with the Lovely Meredith from San Francisco and she told me about a pact she and a bunch of her single girlfriends have made. They’re calling it Man Plan ‘09. After hearing about it, I jumped on board.

Here’s the deal: We’re all tired of either being alone, serial dating, or dating guys who, let’s face it, just aren’t that into us. We’ve all decided it’s time to find our person. Man Plan ‘09 is here to change that.

So, what are the rules?

Well, lovelies, the rules are simple. We’re looking for guys who:

1. First and foremost, are AVAILABLE.
2. Who are looking for a relationship too.

Now, I said the rules were simple, but only on the surface. In reality, the rules are actually quite difficult. Let’s take the first one: He must be AVAILABLE. We’re talking about more than just not having plans on the weekends. Nope, we’re talking about much, much more than that.
We’re talking about AVAILABLE — in every sense of the word. That means:

-No workaholics. Or, as my friend the Lovely Miss Tina said: no more of a workaholic than YOU.

-Not in a relationship. Now, it would seem like this would go without saying, but saying it I am because some guys — not those who are eligible for Man Plan ‘09, but some guys — can be very slippery suckers about this. As you would expect, no relationship means that no ex-girlfriends are calling him and he’s not calling any ex-girlfriends. But, it also means:

-No momma’s boys.

-No one who wants to hang with the guys all day Sunday EVERY Sunday.

-No guys who have a deep and meaningful relationship with their Apple Macbooks, or pentium processors.

-No guys who have filled up each and every night with soccer teams, bowling teams, Ultimate Frisbee, running clubs, etc.

In other words, AVAILABLE to spend time with YOU:

-Lives in the same city, or no more than an hour away. Because, come on, more than an hour is a day trip – NOT a relationship.

-If he has kids, and once you’re past twenty-five many men do, then he still has time for you separate from the kids. And I’m talking quality time, Ladies! Not any of this one weekend a month from 2-4pm on Saturday crap.

-Any other way that prevents him from spending quality time getting to know YOU.

Okay, on to the next rule: A guy who is looking for a relationship too. I’ve had several of my sisters in the dating game insist that no guy is looking for a relationship. Well, I reject that premise, my lovelies, and I’ll tell you why. The next time you’re at the mall, the grocery store, the gas pump, or the movie theater take a gander around at how many men are there alone? As we all know, because we’re all scoping out a guys left hand, not too darn many.

Now, some women will insist that the only reason they aren’t alone is that the only way to get consistent nookie is to be in a relationship, but I disagree. Not that I’m disagreeing that guys like consistent nookie, that would be silly. Hecky durns, I would assert that we all like consistent nookie! But, that’s a blog for another day.

No, from what I’ve observed, and the guys I’ve spoken with, a guy wants a relationship — not just nookie, but a relationship— just as much as we do. That’s why you see so many couples. Not because one has tricked or trapped the other, but because they both want to be there.

And that, Ladies, is the guy we’re looking for! The guy who WANTS to be there. He’s out there. The problem, as I’ve said before, is that you gotta kiss a lotta frogs to find your Person. Oh, and as an aside, be nice when throwing those frogs back. One girl’s frog is another girl’s Person. Let’s try not to do any lasting damage to the poor froggies, okay? We want them to keep kissin’ too!

Man Plan ‘09. The Next Frontier!

Ice Storm 2009!

Well, I have TONS to talk about. I’ve been out of town working and managed to write 3-4 blogs I can’t wait to post. I want to tell you all about "Man Plan ‘09" for one thing!

But first, as a lot of you know, Kentucky was hit very hard earlier in the week by an ice storm. More than 3/4 of the city is still without power — including me! Don’t worry, I’m safe and sound with Sunshine at a hotel and I heard a rumor this morning at Starbucks that my area may have power back by tonight. Fingers Crossed!!

In the meantime, here’s some pics from my neighborhood and from around the hotel. The ice is actually quite pretty when the sun shines through it.

I think this one is my favorite. The magnolia leaves are just incased in ice!

This is the hotel patio. I hope you can see the ice sickles on the chairs and the ice coating the tree.

Another one outside the hotel last night. The ice makes the trees look like they have crystal thorns.

I like this one because you can get an idea of how sunny it is here today, and how pretty the light is through the ice.

This is my neighbors picket fence, but you can also see the tree in the background. The whole neighborhood looks like it’s covered in crystal…

Okay, last one. This one gives you a better idea of what the whole city looks like.

It’s beautiful in it’s own way. Now, if all the trees would just stop breaking and my heat would come on, I’d be happy!!

Love,

Auntie Chelle

Beginning another year

Wow, can you believe it’s 2009????  I’m so excited about what this year is going to bring.  Here’s just a few of the expected highlights:

-Sunshine graduating from High School (and how the heck did THAT happen?)
-If I’ve saved all my pennies right, a trip to London and Paris and Munich. (Joerg, we haven’t forgotten about you.)
-Sunshine heading off to college.  She’s already been accepted to TWO!

And, drum roll please…!

-For the first time – in my ENTIRE life- I will be living alone.  Yep, I’ve never lived alone.  Ever.  I got married at 21 while I was still living at home, and went from there to base housing with my new Marine husband and then law school, kid, moving 20 times (no I’m not exaggerating).  I’ve never lived alone.

I think I’m in for a huge adventure this year and I’m hoping to get up off my ass and blog about it all.  I’ve spent a lot of the last year talking to the Divine Ms. K about what I want this next part of my life to look like.  Now we’ll see if I can make it happen.  And, all the little stumbles, foibles, detours, wrong turns, and misdirections along the way, I’m going to try to put here.   Because, one thing I learned from what I did blog about in 2008 is that I think better when I can SEE what I think.

Here’s to a fabulous 2009!!!

Love,
Auntie Chelle

Happy New Year!!!

Welcome 2009! May everyone have a Happy, Safe and Envigorating Year!!!

Love,
Auntie Chelle

EEK! I just realized how long it's been!

Ooops, sorry, life got crazy!

However, I’m stuck in the house for the next 48 hours while we have freezing rain and then 4 inches of snow.

So.  Expect postings.

I’m thinking shoes……

Dating over Forty is like shopping on Christmas Eve

Dating over forty is like shopping at Target on Christmas Eve: there’s just not a lot left that fits.

Now, notice I didn’t say there wasn’t anything left, just that it’s really hard to find someone who’s going to “fit” YOU. Hey, I’m out there swinging too you know! I’m not going to dis myself!

But, it’s so, so true. Try going to Target or any other store this Christmas Eve.  Mostly, what’s left is the stuff that’s broken, or stained, or has fallen under the rack and no one’s stopped to pick it up and it’s been stepped on for days. Is there some good stuff there in and around the broken bits? Sure there is. That really great pair of earrings some poor misguided soul brought back December 23 is there, hanging out with all the singles that have lost their mate because some five year-old hopped up on candy canes took them all apart and flung them around the sad forgotten Christmas trees in the back of the store.

But, as great as those earrings are, you’ve really gotta look for them, because they aren’t going to jump out and grab you. By this time, they’re probably tired of hanging there, waiting to be taken home where they’ll be loved and appreciated. Hell, they’ve been taken back once already. Now they’re supposed to work up a good sparkle just because they see you coming? What’s the point? Better to just stay hidden behind that one hideous neon orange hoop left over from summer and have a nice cup of cocoa until the January sales hit.

Besides, who’s to say that really great pair of earrings is going to be really great for you? Maybe the shape is right, but they’re gold and you need silver. Or vice versa, or whatever. The point is that to find the pair of earrings that’s going to work for you, and that’s going to work all year round for that matter, not just with your Christmas outfit, you’ve got to get out there and LOOK. Try things on, experiment, get outside your comfort zone. You have to keep you mind open and willing to think outside the box, even when you think you need hoops, but what shows up are studs. Or clip-ons. (Snort. Sorry, I couldn’t stop myself.)

Which is why I intentionally, and with great forethought, stopped dating over two years ago. When dating becomes one more thing on your TO DO list that you just want to get over with so you can go home and go to bed —alone— it’s time to take yourself out of the game.

So, all of this is to say, that after a two year dating hiatus, I started dating again late this summer, and in the words of my dearly departed Granny Burke, it’s been real and it’s been fun, but it ain’t been real fun. The guys I’ve met have actually been great, but it’s been a bit like trying to stuff a size eight foot into a size four shoe. A lot of work for none of the cute.

Because, damnit, it’s harder now. It just is, and if anyone tells you different they’re lying. Or married. (Sorry married people, but if you haven’t dated in the last ten years, you haven’t dated.) When we were all in college or our early twenties, we were ALL single. The pool was bigger and there were a lot more people in it. Besides, life is a lot more complicated than it was when we were in college. Now, not only are you trying to find someone who’ll fit you, but one or both of you probably has kids and/or aging parents, a house, a mortgage, a job you have to work at too much and, if you live where I do, a yard full of leaves to rake. Because you don’t have anything else to do on your Saturday morning.

And, as hard as it is, if you don’t get out there and start sifting through the bits of broken, stained and twisted pieces, there’s just no way to find that one person who’s going to “FIT”. That one person who will totally GET you and all your weirdness and still think you’re hot and sexy and want to rip your clothes off. And call you the next day. And the next. Even when your kid is causing drama and your mother is screaming that you never come see her (No, not you, mom, I’m being hypothetical here.), and you get home from work and start to defrost the chicken only to remember you have fifteen minutes to get to the parent-teacher meeting that YOU called…

Yeah, that person. Because that person is looking for someone who gets them and all their weirdness and likes the fact that you don’t ask why the DVD’s are arranged alphabetically by genre.  Because you get them.  And they get you.

They. Get. YOU.

Which means, I have to get out there and kiss some frogs. So, I’m dating, and going through all the drama and angst and weirdness that is dating over forty, hoping to find my prince, with all his weirdness and foibles and tarnished bent crown. Because he’s out there somewhere and I’ve decided it’s time to find him.

And, if he wears an earring, maybe he’ll let me borrow the other one for my Christmas party dress. ☺

Double Darn, I have to quit.

No, not blogging.  I resigned from a client who needs someone like me and a volunteer position that I just can’t do anymore.  The client is very small and struggling and I feel like a total heel having to quit.  But, with my current travel schedule and work load, I just can’t get there.  Unfortunately, it’s not a client I can take care of remotely because they don’t have that kind of infrastructure in place and they can’t afford to buy it right now. 

The volunteer position is even trickier because I was elected to the position.  But, with everything going on, I’m doing a lousy job and probably hurting their reputation.  Which I would never ever want to do.  So, after many months of trying to tell myself I could do it and failing, and knashing my teeth and pulling my hair and not getting any writing done because I feel so damn guilty that I still have volunteer work to do, I quit.

But damn, damn double darn I HATE to quit.  I pride myself on finishing what I start and this feels like crap.   Usually, when I have to resign from a client I’ve interviewed and hired my replacement and I feel comfortable walking away because the client will be taken care of as well I could have taken care of them.  It’s a wonderful feeling to have helped get a client to the point where they don’t need me anymore.  Which sounds disingenuous, but that’s what I do. I get them off the ground and fix their policies and procedures and help them get to be successful enough to need someone like me full-time.  This keeps new challenges in my life, which I thrive on.

But, not this time.  And for two at once!!

Damn.  Darn. Crap.

I hate this.

Should you Panic?

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past two weeks, you’ve probably heard about the stock market falling, the Big Bailout, banks crashing and the dozens of financial guys on the TV crying foul and no fair and this is all someone else’s fault and the sky is going to fall at any minute so quick run and hide and take all your cash with you.  AAAAAAACK!

Okay, let’s everyone stop and take a couple of deep cleansing breaths, okay?  I’ll wait. 

There.  Feel better now?

I’ve talked to three different people over the past week or so about what’s going on and they’ve all said “You should blog about that.”  So, here goes.  I sincerely hope this is helpful to some of you.

First of all, let me just state for the record: I AM NOT A CERTIFIED FINANCIAL PLANNER OR A CERTIFIED PUBLIC ACCOUNTANT AND I’M NOT GIVING FINANCIAL ADVICE TO ANYONE FOR ANYTHING FOR ANY REASON AND THIS INCLUDES YOU.  IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR PERSONAL FINANCIAL SITUATION YOU SHOULD CALL YOUR PERSONAL FINANCE PERSON.  (Incidentally, if you don’t have a finance person, you should get one.  Even if you think you have no money.  But, that’s a blog for another day if anyone wants to hear it.)

What I am is a person who has a degree in Accounting and Finance and has been studying personal investing since before she had two pennies to rub together.  My goal has always been to not be a bag lady when I’m old.  Period. That’s it.  Along the way, I’ve learned a thing or two from reading lots of books and magazines and from trying things with my own money.  I’m happy to share what I know, but see big capital letters above.  I’m not an investing guru, nor do I want to be.  What I’m going to tell you is my personal opinion based on what I know about investing, the situation, and what my friends who are stock brokers and financial planners have told me over the past few weeks.

Okay, kiddies, here we go.  As my title says, should you panic about the current situation in the financial markets?  The answer is: NO.

For one thing, panic never serves you well.  If you’re panicking, you’re not thinking or listening to what’s going on around you.  Which means there’s no way you’re going to be able to formulate a strategy.  Strategies are good things.  They are our friends.

Secondly, the pundits and TV financial guys are Drama Queens.  Really.  Their job is to keep you glued to the TV scared to death the sky is falling, and watching all their commercials so they keep getting paid the big bucks.  Cynical?  Probably.

Third, when Maria Bartiromo (whom I love) is interviewing some guy on the floor of the stock exchange, she’s talking to a Trader.  A Trader is someone who bets hundreds of thousands of dollars a day on whether a particular stock or group of stocks, etc, will go up or down.  Neither you nor I are Traders, we are Investors.  Traders are the hares of the financial world.  You and I are the turtles.  People who put in a little bit of money every month, inching our way toward retirement so we can maintain the lifestyle we currently have once we retire and not be little old ladies eating dog food for breakfast.  We aren’t looking to make this year’s salary on today’s movement of the stock market.  Trader’s are.

So, what does this mean for your 401(k)s and IRAs, and mutual funds, etc?  Well, honestly, if you’re going to need that cash in the next 3-5 years, and you’re only in stocks, you probably want to move your money to treasury notes or bills, ie. Cash.  If you don’t know what treasury notes or bills are, google them.  But, basically, they are investments that aren’t going to pay you a lot of money as far as interest, but they aren’t going to lose money either.  They are backed by the full faith and credit of the US government.  And, yes, my lovelies, the government is still stable. 

If you don’t need that money for 3-5 years, then if I were you, I’d not only leave it alone, I’d put more money in.  That’s what I’m doing.  What’s that you say?  But, Auntie Chelle! All those really smart guys on the TV box are saying my money and everything I’ve worked to save is going to be gone!  Kaput, Zilch, Zero! 

Again, we’re all Investors here, not Traders.  Yes, the stock market is in the toilet.  We’ve gone from somewhere around a high of 14,000 points for the DOW to the current low of 8,000ish points (trading hasn’t opened as I’m writing this) and that’s a pretty darn steep slide (If you don’t know what the DOW is, google it or ask me in the comments.).  Hey, no question, things suck eggs right now.  But, here’s the thing practically no one is talking about: there’s a lot of really really really good stable stocks that are On Sale because of that slide.  If you’re like me and you love to find the deal hidden on the sale racks in the back of Macy’s, this is your chance.  Companies that have been around for decades are down over half of what they were trading for a year ago.  GE, for example.  I would bet that there’s not one of you that doesn’t have something made by GE or financed by GE in your house or business right now.  They are a stable company and they aren’t going anywhere.  Are they affected by this stock market/credit market thing?  You betcha.  But, given time, they’re going to be fine.  They are well diversified among almost every economic sector there is (imho).  Which means they are a DEAL right now (imho).  And they pay dividends.  Which, in Auntie Chelle’s book is Free Money.  And we all know that FREE is my favorite F-word!

So, if you are contributing to your retirement plan and you aren’t going to need that money for 5 years, keep on doing what you’re doing.  If you have to, just don’t open your quarterly statements when you get them in the mail.  File them away until this is over.  Stop watching CNBC, FOX, CNN, MSNBC, etc.  Yes, the situation is bad and governments need to do something and they are (finally).  But, there’s nothing you can do but wait for the situation to correct itself and try to find the bargains that are out there. 

I hope this is helpful.  I tried not to get too much into the details of why this happened because if feels like that poor horse has been beat to death.  If anyone has any questions, leave them in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer them.

So, should you panic?  No.  Never a good idea.  Should you be concerned?  Well, sure.  This is a bad sitch and it’s going to cause a lot more bumps in the economy before it’s over.  But, one thing that’s missing right now is hope and optimism.  I’m not talking about rosey glasses skipping through the forest gathering daisies hope and optimism.  I’m talking about the kind of hope and optimism we all need to get out of bed in the morning, brush our teeth and get our kids off to school and ourselves off to work.  We’re all in this together and we as women, mom’s, American’s and Citizen’s of the freaking World are strong and capable and tenacious.  It’s not going to be fun to pull ourselves out of this, but it can be done.

And that’s my two cents.  See above capital letters.  Don’t go putting all your money in your mattress and don’t stop contributing to you
r 401(k)/IRA/etc.  Anything you buy today is going to be super cheap and will help increase your money as we pull out of this. (I SO want to talk about dollar-cost averaging and about a half dozen other topics, but I’ll restrain myself.  Thank you, Beki.).

P.S., if I dissed any guys reading this with the whole we’re moms we can do anything comment above, I apologize.  I wasn’t aware you were here!

Bunches of hugs,

Auntie Chelle

Watch This. Then Go Vote

Hopefully, this will work.  If I was smarter, I could just have the video here.  But, I’m not.  ::SIGH::

So, whichever way you’re leaning in this election, don’t waste your chance.  Vote.

As my Daddy used to say:  If You Don’t Vote – DON’T BITCH.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RitymNVvJEk

A Walk Around the Block with Ike

Well, as most of you know, Hurricane Ike hit Kentucky and wasn’t at all a gentleman about it. He was a right ruddy bastard, if you want to know the truth. We didn’t get hit nearly as hard as Texas and Louisianna, etc, down south, but we got hit hard enough.

Here’s some stats:

1. The county where I live has 150 public schools. On Monday there were only 50 that were not damaged and had power.
2. Over 70% of the state did not have power Sunday afternoon after Ike hit.
3. There are over 240 telephone poles alone down in my city. That’s a lot of telephone poles, people.
4. As of today, Friday, 20% of the city is still without power.
5. The public school system has been shut down and it’s not certain it will be open on Monday.

All football games and other sporting events, including Homecoming, are also canceled. What’s truly amazing is that this was all caused by WIND. We didn’t get any rain at all. Kentucky was in a corridor between two pieces of Ike, one went north and slammed into St. Louis and Chicago, and the other went south across Tennessee. This whole ordeal would have be SOOO much worse if there had been rain,or if it had hit a month ago in the middle of August.

Here are some pics from what was literally a walk around the block.

This is the side entrance to my house. There’s a little alley that runs between my neighbors house and mine. That’s the top 25 feet of the pine tree next to his house.

This is around the corner from my house. This tree fell diagonally across the street and didn’t hit anyone’s home! All the brush you see on the side of the street came from this tree. There’s an equal amount of it on the other side of the road (which I didn’t take a pic of). It didn’t hit any homes, but it did take out the power lines. The people of the opposite side of the street as the tree still don’t have power. At this point everyone is running extension cords across the street to get power from their neighbors.

This is the next right as we walk around the block.

Here’s the stump at the end of this block. Notice the height of the stump compared to the fence behind it. Yeah. BIG tree.

And here’s what’s left of the trunk and branches. The branches are actually piled up on the other side of the street behind me as I took this pic. Crazy!!

Now we turn right again and we’re back on my street. This is my neighbor across the street. The tree fell on his car and took out the chimney.  You can barely see what’s left of the chimney still attached to the house. Bricks went flying everywhere.  He ended up with some severe dings on his car.

And here we are at the front of my house. Before the pine tree fell on my fence, this branch fell off my neighbors oak tree and took out my awning. No big loss, the awning needed to be replaced anyway. Oh, here’s one more.

This is Sunday afternoon after the storm. That’s my neighbor on his roof, you can kind of see the top of what’s left of the chimney. On top of his TWO STORY house putting down tarps. In FLIP FLOPS. Yes, peoples. Flip-flops.

As we say in Kentucky, some people’s kids you just cain’t put to nor from by. Flip-flops. Sheesh!

Ike, what a mess you left!

Banging Your Head Against a Wall…Makes it Hurt.

The book is not going well.  Nobody is behaving.  Nobody is talking to me.  It’s like I’m back in high school and I sit down at the lunch table and everyone gets up and leaves.  WTF?  Sigh.  Writing is hard.

I think I’m having a tone problem.  Also, I need to learn to write faster so I get the stuff out of my head and onto the paper.  So much easier to edit or fix a page that actually has words on it. 

And, it’s going to rain soon – HARD, thank you Ike – so I can’t even go for a walk and listen to my playlist and try to make things bounce.

Maybe I’ll go clean the basement….

Pregnancy…in Reverse

        Sunshine started her Senior Year of High School a couple of weeks ago and the whole thing is very bittersweet for me.  On the one hand, this year is going to be so much fun for her and I can’t wait to watch her experience it.  I don’t want to miss one moment.

    But, on the other hand, at every event, teacher conference, study group that meets at my house, school dance and special Senior Event, I’m going to be all too aware that this is the last one, or one of the last one’s, and that the clock is ticking and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. 

    And I don’t want to miss one moment.
   
    My friend and I were talking a few days go and it occurred to me during our conversation that this year, her final year of high school, is a lot like pregnancy.  But, in reverse.

    No, no wait!  I haven’t lost it.  Just bear with me…

    Just like when you’re pregnant, there is a date that it will all be over.  But, until that date arrives, there are things to do to prepare for what happens after that date.  College’s to apply to, scholarships to write essay’s for, sheets and towels, and that new CD holder that she’s going to need for her dorm room next year.  See, it’s a lot like getting the nursery ready. 

    Except, of course, that it won’t be in my house.  No, this time, all these lovely new linens I’m buying won’t be anywhere near my house.

    Just like when you’re pregnant, there are hormone surges.  Little moments that tear tiny fissures into your heart and that I honestly think are the universe’s way of preparing you to let go.  It started last spring when she drove herself to school for the first time, and the day she received her Senior Ring.  Those special wonderful little moments that bring tears to your eyes, and what feels like a fist around your throat, because these are all tiny halting steps to that day when you’ve done your job and she’s ready to be that woman you’ve been raising for the last eighteen years.  Much like the moment she took her first steps from my arms to her dad’s and I realized she wasn’t going to be a baby forever. 

    Just like when you’re pregnant and you’re sitting on the couch reading or maybe watching a movie and you feel the baby move for the very first time.  The slight little fluttering of butterfly wings that happens in a microsecond and takes your breath away.  When you sit there and the entire universe narrows focus to the slight little bump on your abdomen and you try to will it to happen again.  It’s those little moments that take you step by tiny cataclysmic step towards a world you’ve never been to.  A whole new life.  A whole new world that this tiny wonderful being becomes the center of.  And, just like the moment I first felt her move was a step towards bringing her into this world, the conversations we have about where she might like to go to college, and where she might want to travel to on her summer vacations, are tiny cataclysmic steps towards taking her into her future.

    There’s nothing like the first time you hold your child.  Childbirth is not a fun thing, and mine was a little more dramatic than most and is a story for another day (or not), but childbirth is quite the metaphor for all you go through to raise a child.  Putting their health, well-being and needs before your own, starting right there in the delivery room.  Before you even think of your own, really.  But, the first time you hold your child, or the first time she smiles at you and you know that she knows it’s YOU, her mom, not just a random smiling face, but YOU.  That’s when you know that your world is never going to be the same.    And now, you get to stand next to her at Target and watch her look at luggage and smile at the twinkle in her eye she gets thinking about the day she’ll be packed and ready to venture out on her own. 

    And, you have to smile.  Because it’s fun to think of that day because she’s so excited about it.  And you smile while you help her pick out a dress to wear under her cap and gown.  Just like you picked out that extra special outfit to take her home from the hospital in months before she actually arrived.  It’s a true joy to your mother’s heart that she’s happy.  And a few more little fissures show up on your heart.  Because you wanted this.  You did.  You worked hard for the last eighteen years for this.  You want her to be a woman who knows who she is and what she wants.  You want her to want adventure and learning and to not be afraid of the future. 

    And she is.  And she does.

    You did a good job.

    It’s a little ironic that a school year is nine months.  In the same amount of time that I nurtured and helped create that tiny little brand new human being, now I have exactly that much time to prepare myself for the next step in my journey.  I read someone else’s blog the other day (sorry can’t remember who) and they called it Life 3.0.  Life 1.0 is your own childhood and growing up years.  Life 2.0 is graduating from college, getting married and raising kids.  And then there’s Life 3.0.  And just like the other two versions, it’s my job to figure out what this one is going to be all about.  So, while Sunshine is busy taking steps one way, I’m looking over the horizon trying to decide what path will be next. 

    Because I did do a good job.  She’s an amazing woman and the world better look out because she’s coming and she’s unstoppable.  And, I helped create that as much as I nurtured her inside of me for nine months.

    In the words of Buzz Lightyear (because I watched it so many times it’s burned into my psyche):  TO INFINITY…AND BEYOND!

☺

Shoes: The first step is admitting you have a Problem…

So, I decided to clean my closet out today. Mostly because the book was bouncing in my head, but thudding on paper. I forgot to take Before Pics, because I didn’t plan to blog this, only to tidy up. However, what I discovered is that I have more of a problem than I thought.

And I pretty much KNEW I had a problem.

Here’s my closet after tidying up, but before putting everyone back in:

For those of you who can’t see the picture well, there’s eight stacks of shoes in addition to the door full of flip-flops.  (Incidentally, this is a great way to organize flip-flops!)

The bad news? There’s another closet full of ‘em.  I call it my winter closet.  OH, and yeah, there’s three stacks of shoes showing and another two stacks behind those SIX boot boxes:

The other bad news? I’m pretty sure there’s two more pairs of flip-flops and a pair of black flats in the backseat of my car.  And  possibly a pair of shoes in my gym bag.  Oh, and I forgot to look under my desk and beside the couch.  Wait here, I’ll be right back. 

Crap, there’s another pair under my desk, one by the couch and a pair on the steps.  But, they’re all flip-flops.  Flip-flops doen’t really count as SHOES, do they?

The other shoe dropping? Here’s the bag of shoes I’m giving away:

There’s nine pairs of shoes in that bag.   There were ten, but when I went to count them for this, I  rescued a pair.

This problem was a lot easier to ignore before I took them all out and shone a light on them. Literally.

Oh, and some of you may ask how many ARE THERE????   What do I look like, nuts? The last thing I’m going to do is COUNT THEM!

Some things I’m just happier not knowing.

How does this pertain to writing.  Well, while doing this I wrote this blog (writing), and I thought of a couple of really cute lines for my hero to say (future writing), and I worked out a beat in my head of the scene that won’t write (Writing/banging head against hard surface.  Or something).

One thing I noticed is that there were actually a few pairs I’d forgotten about.  Which means I need to combine two of my favorite things: Shoes and my label maker!

Ahhhh, my little organized heart goes pittar-pat 

Phun with Photobooth

Okay, I’m not totally sure this will work, but I’m going to try. Sunshine and I were messing around with Photobooth last night. Some of the pics are pretty darn funny! Here goes:

Before the fun started – two girls just smiling.

And the glasses tip and the fun begins…

Silly silly silly – but fun!