Ice storm

November 24, 2010 | Holidays,Iowa,Weather

Brrrrr! This is what an ice storm in Iowa does. Good thing we’re all safe and warm at home and ready for the holiday tomorrow.

Books: Eat, Pray, Love

November 9, 2010 | Books

I read my friend Randi’s copy of Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabeth Gilbert this summer in Norway. I’m finally getting back around to it.

I recently wrote this on Cindy La Ferle‘s Facebook page when she was wondering what others thought of the book:

I read it this summer, and I still haven’t figured out what to say about it. In the first section, I had to put it down several times just to catch my breath. She was like a 3-year-old, distracted by every shiny object … I was exhausted. (But I love Italy, and I suppose identical Italian twins might make me breathless too.)

It was very self-indulgent (on her part), but I did take lots of notes of things she said that resonated with me. While I don’t dig meditation, blue lights & dreaming of serpents, I do believe self-examination is essential. It’s just not always easy to go along on someone else’s intimate and very personal journey. I often felt like I was reading a diary that I shouldn’t have been.

I, too, spent a year going through a midlife identity crisis. Not in Italy, India or Indonesia, though. In Iowa. I had the I-place. Just not the book deal, darnit. Or … well … anything else she wrote about, except the parts about figuring out who she is. In the true spirit of her book, which was all about her, this post is all about me. I don’t think Julia Roberts will play me in the movie, though.

Looking back is hard. And painful. But we can never really know who we are today until we know who we were. I feel as though I’ve been putting together a big jigsaw puzzle all my life, but I only had some of the pieces, some of the time. Last year, when my crisis began (that’s a nice way of saying “when the shit hit the fan”), all the rest of the pieces were dumped in my lap. I’ve spent the time since then fitting those pieces into the puzzle.

Here are a couple of passages that resonated with me.

p. 19 I inflicted upon him my every hope for my salvation and happiness. And, yes, I did love him. But if I could think of a stronger word than “desperately” to describe how I loved David, I would use that word here, and desperate love is always the toughest way to do it.

p. 68 But I disappear into the person I love. I am the permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have everything. You can have my time, my devotion, my ass, my money, my family, my dog, my dog’s money, my dog’s time — everything. If I love you, I will carry for you all your pain, I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word), I will protect you from your own insecurity, I will project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family. I will give you the sun and the rain, and if they are not available, I will give you a sun check and a rain check. I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else.

The specifics may not be the same, but I get the whole “desperate” thing. Someone told me once, “You need me more than I need you.” Ouch. Damn, that hurt! Then it made me angry. But you know what? It was true. Not only that, but I realize I’ve needed everyone in my life more than they ever needed me. Oh, yes. I’ve turned myself inside-out for people. Then I’d hit a rough spot and needed a shoulder or a hand. I’d look around and … nobody was there. I hadn’t seen that clearly until recently. So, yeah. I get it.

The whole crisis killed that desperate part of me. OK, it’s not really dead, but it’s been rendered comatose. Because I’ve also realized I am completely and utterly alone. I know that now. And every time I’ve felt that way throughout my life has come flooding back to me. It’s been a really hard fucking year. But I’m getting ready to pull the plug, to take it off life support. Because really? It’s been sucking the life out of me. She’s right. Desperation is the hardest way to do it. And I need to learn to be OK with Just Me.

My track record sucks, but the puzzling I’ve done over the last year has helped me figure out why. The even harder part now will be to figure out how to change that.

Elizabeth Gilbert’s journey was deeply personal (some might say selfish). I was on a similar journey, though, and her words helped me.

Books: The Faith Club

November 7, 2010 | Books

I finished reading (and discussing last month at book club) The Faith Club: A Muslim, A Christian, A Jew — Three Women Search for Understanding by Ranya Idliby, Suzanne Oliver and Priscilla Warner. They got together to write a children’s book about religions and accepting each other. They never did publish the children’s book. Instead, they wrote this book, which is a testament to friendship and learning.

Fall stuff

September 27, 2010 | Family,Iowa

I was feeling a little under the rainbow today

August 31, 2010 | Iowa,Weather

17

May 15, 2010 | Family

Photo by Sue Ranta

…

2 college degrees
1 park
1 judge
2 violins
1 photographer
2 forlover
10 Norwegians
30 people in all
1 vase
1 rose
6 cities
4 states
2 countries
5 fireplaces
2 spiral staircases
1 barn
3 motorcycles
1 minivan
1 dip with piranhas by the coral reef
2 sunburns in London
1 La Fête Nationale in France
1 hilarious rollercoaster ride
3 beautiful children
17 years of marriage
20 years of togetherness
Thousands of laughs
Some tears
Unlimited hugs
Never enough time

…

I totally stole this idea from Ilina over at Dirt & Noise.

…

Photo by Sue Ranta

…

Oh, how young and pretty we were. *sigh*

I removed my wedding dress from its sealed box two years ago on our 15th wedding anniversary. I could *almost* fit into it. I just needed a little exercise (or duct tape). I planned to rent a tuxedo, squeeze into my dress and have professional photographs taken. Then we moved to Iowa. I gained 40 pounds (and aged 10 years). So, yeah. Maybe in three years for our 20th. When we go back to Italy. I can lose that 40 pounds by then. I’m down 12 pounds since January, so that’s a start.

OK, but seriously.

I can’t remember where I found this, but I wrote it in a book I made for us 10 years ago.

Please take my hand
and walk with me a while.
We’ll talk of love beneath a tent of stars,
then journey through a life of golden days,
and I’ll be happy anywhere you are.

This is all I ask of life,
that our tomorrows be
as happy as the yesterdays
have been for you and me.

Just this I ask,
That every hour, each day, our lifetime through
will find you still in love with me,
as I will be with you.

To my husband: Thank you for showing me — every day — unconditional love, unqualified acceptance, true forgiveness, laughter, kindness, generosity and a beautiful human spirit. I’m so glad we found each other, oh, so many years ago. Happy anniversary.

Blooms

May 3, 2010 | Iowa,Spring

Birds

May 2, 2010 | Iowa,Spring

Wine: Picket Fence

April 27, 2010 | Iowa,Wine

I am by no means a wine connoisseur, but I like to drink it, and I really like to try local wines. I was surprised to learn how many wineries there are in Iowa. We even have one just down the road from us. What’s better than trying the local flavor of your new home?

This isn’t a review. I’ll leave that to the experts. No, this is more of an American Bandstand Rate-a-Record opinion, “It’s got a good beat, and you can dance to it. I give it a 98, Dick.” Only, you know. With wine. And without Dick.

I recently tried Picket Fence, a semi-sweet white wine by Park Farm Winery in Bankston, Iowa. It was recommended to me by Eric in the liquor department at Hy-Vee in Mason City. It was $9.99. (He was spot on with all his recommendations.)

On the bottle: “A crisp, clean, semi-sweet white wine. Our Picket Fence pairs wonderfully with fish, seafood, chicken and pork dishes; especially when cooked with butter or cream sauces. Not too dry, yet not too sweet, this wine is on the fence!”

I really liked it. I like white wines, especially German rieslings, but some of the Iowa whites I’ve tasted are way too sweet with a “homemade” taste to them. Picket Fence, though, was just the right balance for me. I drank it with a ham dish with a cream sauce — a recipe I got from @collisionbend (Thanks, Will!) — and it was tasty.

Ode to spring

April 22, 2010 | Family,Iowa,Spring

Daffodils are up. Snow fences are down.

Freedom. Lighter backpacks mean bigger items for show & tell.

Oh, spring. Ooh, you are so big. So absolutely huge. Gosh, we’re really impressed down here, I can tell you. You’re just so super.

I love that you’re here, but I hate that it took so long. I could do without the bipolar extremes, but that won’t happen in Iowa, will it? No. No, it won’t.