10 Things My 87 Year Old Grandmother Might Tell The Donald

10 Things My 87 Year Old Grandmother Might Tell The Donald (that he needs to hear)...

It sounded like a freight train!

1.  Being rich doesn't necessarily make you smart, it just means you got lucky and have surrounded yourself with other smart people.  It probably didn't help that your Dad loaned you a few million to get rolling. All of that said, I respect your work ethic and what you have accomplished, but tell me what you know about Foreign policy without being a name-dropper.

2.  Son, no one is going to take you seriously until you do something with that hair.  It looks like a tornado got aholt of you.  Don't you know that looking good is 90% of everything? How can you run a beauty pageant and have hair like that?

3.  Having a trophy wife is difficult to overcome, I know, I was perceived to be one.  People are always judging you and her and they will be wondering if she is smart enough or elegant enough to be the first lady. She married you and your 10 billion, so she can't be too dumb. I'd vote for her for sure, you, I'm not sure about yet.

4.  Why do you look so mad all of the time?  Are you having problems with your bowels? Raisin Bran works wonders for me.  Are you just always angry?  You look angry.  They make a pill for seniors that you can take a night to help you sleep, it might be just the ticket.

5.  You can never win a fight with someone who won't shut up- take Megyn Kelly for example. She can rail on you all day long, so just shut your mouth about it and she won't have more negative things to say about you or her cycle.  If you don't have a period or have never had one, you have no business commenting on menstrual cycles or reproductive issues. 

6.  I noticed that when they asked all of the other candidates about their faith that you weren't asked to comment.  I read up that you are Presbyterian, they are nice folks.  You should talk more about your faith if you want the Southern vote.  And, you have a Jewish daughter, that's wonderful.  The nicest boss I ever had was an old Jewish man, he and his family were always very kind to me.

7.  Instead of campaign messages that last 60 seconds, why don't you just run a picture of your daughter opposed to Hillary's daughter for 10 seconds.  No one wants to look at poor little Chelsea for four more years.  Your kids are beautiful, use them to your advantage.

8.  Be nice, just be nice.  Bragging on your wealth, and your achievements is redundant.  We all know how successful you've become, don't tell us again.  Tell us how you plan to fix this messed up hell hole of a country we are living in and how you are going to get our boys out of harms' way from places we shouldn't be in to begin with.

9.  Tell me what you are going to do when you get to Washington and get the Jimmy Carter treatment because no one likes you.

10.  The job you are applying for affects a lot of lives.  Make sure that you have your heart right and that you are doing this for the right reasons- that you are humble and sincere.  That's what people want to see along with strength- humble sincerity.  If you need a new campaign manager, I've still got some zip left in my step and I have seen every episode of Bonanza at least fifteen times, so I could be available and I might have a few strategies of how to invade a ranch or two if needed.

Somehow, I have lost a year...

How has this year just disappeared?

This time last year I was helping my daughter plan to elope to New York City, line up a Junior's Cheesecake for their wedding cake in Brooklyn, and I was booking Broadway and Yankees tickets, all while virtual shopping with her via cell phone for wedding dresses. Through some of my beautiful friends, I  found a photographer friend to meet them at City Hall to take their pictures on the Brooklyn Bridge.  Meanwhile, my husband and I were in the middle of a move from Orlando to Richmond. Whew!

That made me tired writing it, no wonder I haven't blogged in such a long time.

Shortly thereafter, we welcomed the tiniest new member of our family, Miss Mallie, into our family and I became the Yaya/ mother-in-law in residence for about two weeks.  I look back on that time with my daughter and granddaughter and am forever thankful that I had the opportunity to go be with them and rock that sweet, precious, newborn girl as well loving on my Henley Boo.

Shortly after we moved to Richmond, my husband's part of the project he was working on was cancelled.  Within two months, I had planned a wedding in NYC, Christmas, moved us from Orlando to Richmond and then from Richmond back to our home in Birmingham.  It was a hell of a year!  I got to Birmingham and hit the ground running with a new job designing kitchens while my husband's industry took a turn for the worst. He once again was sent to Kentucky for two months and then that project was delayed. It has been a difficult year for him.

I have landed at an incredible company, where I work with people that I feel like I have known my entire life.  I love each one of them like family- I truly do.  I am very grateful and thankful for the opportunities that have presented themselves to me this year, but they have kept me very busy.  I am doing everything I ever wanted to do in the design field, and know that this was a Divine placement because I saw three cardinals the first day I began there- God's sign to let me know everything is going to be okay.

Since we've been home, we've reclaimed bricks from a demo site, we've torn down our back yard, and are in the process of finishing our masterpiece designed by the incredible Rebecca Kinney, landscape designer.   Hopefully soon, we will be having a backyard warming where we will literally have a fire to warm up the yard and have some fun with our friends and neighbors.

To say that I have been too busy to write is a cop-out.  Sometimes when things aren't going like we want, the last thing we want to do is share them with the world.  I just shut down; I quit writing.  I gave up on my dream for a while, because I didn't take the time for myself to do what I love.  I didn't go to Yale this summer for YWC, and I ended up working through the Archer Storytelling Conference, which I was invited to attend this year.  Hoping 2017 will give me an opportunity to re-visit some of these things.

The part of my brain that tells stories and blogs is like a muscle that hasn't been to the gym in a while. The anxiety of sitting in front of the computer right now is overwhelming, yet I know that I have to put something down on this screen- anything. Stella has got to get her groove back!  If you are reading this drivel, thank you.  I promise to bring more interesting content once I get over the fear of hitting publish on this blog post.

Love y'all,
Holly

Like a Dandelion blowing in the wind...

"The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind." - Dylan

I have tons of friends who are military wives and I have always wondered how they maintain their composure, manage moving constantly, and end up raising well-adjusted children. 

 I am trying to adjust to this gypsy lifestyle that we are living, but it isn't easy.  I am thankful that my husband has a great job and that we have opportunities to travel and see things that a lot of people may never see. I am more thankful that our children are grown and on their own.  At the same time, I am exhausted.  I never know where I have toothpaste.  I can't tell you where my favorite bra is.  I have no idea where my winter clothes are or if I even have any left.  I may have taken them to Goodwill when we moved to Florida.  There are bags of unpacked clothes in my car that I live out of, and I'm almost afraid to take them out, not knowing where I may be tomorrow.

I feel like a Dandelion that has been blown into the wind and the different pieces of me are scattered all over the place.  I don't feel whole anymore and I don't feel like I have a home or a home base, even though I have two places to live.

When we end up in a new place, I don't want to make friends or get involved in a local church or other groups, because I know that I won't be there long.  Instead of looking at it as an adventure, it pisses me off and makes me so mad that this is our life. I question every decision that we've made up to this point and how stupid they all were.  It makes it very difficult to put down shallow roots, knowing that they are going to be yanked up and, like a dandelion,  my sanity is about to be blown all over the place.

I should be thankful and  embrace these changes with reckless abandon, but for a girl who never really had any roots or a stable place to call home, it is difficult to walk away from the only roots I have ever known.  I've had the same home and lived in the same community since 1998. Those of you who know me, know how much I hate the busy bodies in this neighborhood and how I feel like I live in a three story trailer, and how this house just basically is the worst floor plan in the history of the world.  But, it's home, and  it's the only home I've ever known.  I miss my friends.  I miss knowing what is going on in my city.  I am homesick.

My husband's job has him working 14-16 hour days, plus travel time, so I never see him.  It was really pointless to move all of our crap to an apartment where he is so that we could pass one another in the hall.  I'm lonely and sad - and that just isn't like me.

I have an interview for a job that I really don't want, just to be around other people so that I don't go slap crazy.  I feel like one of those commercials when they say "Do you feel helpless?  Do you feel hopeless?  Do you feel like you life has no meaning?"  Yes, but not because of depression, because of the stupid choices I have made in my life (which all seemed brilliant at the time)- and maybe that can be depressing if you think about it.  

My husband and I can't seem to get on the same page regarding where we want to live forever one day.  As cute as the place is that I have fixed for us in Virginia- and I love it there, I really do- I could just sleep my life away right here in Birmingham eating snickers bars and watching old movies, while feeling sorry for myself.  I need to be finishing my manuscript and not totally blowing every chance that I have at selling my books- and right now, I don't even care.  I just want to sleep for a week with the air on 56 degrees under a pile of blankets.

Today is  new day.  I'm going to color my roots, see if I can find some makeup, because I lost mine in the move.  I'm going to haul off things that I am sick of looking at here, and head to Richmond for a job interview and hope for the best.  Then, in a week, I will board a plane on a one-way flight to Pensacola to welcome my new Granddaughter into this world. I hope and pray and believe that she will be healthy and will like to snuggle, because I need some sweet baby sugar!

Love y'all,

Holly

Redefining our Paradigms

The Dream, Pablo Picasso 1932


Lately, I have felt like the lady in this Picasso painting- half dressed, boob hanging out, maybe napping, arms disproportionately large in relation to the rest of her body. Crazy outfit.  Most days, I've felt like my head was splitting open and like my brain is numb and not working, which leads me to the question:

How do we redefine the paradigms of our lives?

par·a·digm

ˈperəˌdīm/

noun

1. 1.

   technical

   a typical example or pattern of something; a model.

   "there is a new paradigm for public art in this country"

   synonyms:

   model, pattern, example, exemplar, template, standard, prototype,archetype "why should your sets of values be the paradigm for the rest of us?"

How do we respond when our paradigms are redefined for us by someone else? Without our permission? Against our will?  What do we do when people walk out of our lives unexpectedly or we have to walk out of theirs because we can no longer tolerate their behaviour and it changes the course of the life we had planned?  

Lately, I have been facing these issues in my own life. Someone whom I love dearly has made choices that I disagree with - to the point that I spent almost a year heartbroken over those choices knowing that there was nothing that I could do to change her mind.  I grieve for her choices, and selfishly, I grieve for my own loss because I am no longer a part of her life and the traditions that we worked to create together.  I am fairly liberal, but there are some places I draw the line.

This person was part of my paradigm, my template for my life, why I woke up many mornings and worked so hard. She defined who I am in so many ways- good and bad- my failures as a human being, a member of the human family, and my own family.  I have questioned my own behaviour as well as hers, and have come to terms that there are certain things in life that I don't have to accept and that no one can legislate my feelings.  However, all choices come with costs.  My cost has been my disconnection with someone I love more than anything in the world, and a change in how the rest of my life will be different than I imagined.  Some days I feel like I have lost a limb, or like part of my soul is missing. My heart, is shattered.

That doesn't mean that I don't wish her happiness, because I do.  I hope she finds her life's joy and is fulfilled and her dreams come true.  However, wishing her love and success doesn't mean that I have to be a part of those dreams if they go against the basic zeniths of my core beliefs. I don't have to condone her decisions or participate in them and continue to be abused in order to love her.  I've had enough abuse in my life and I have had to draw a line to protect my own sanity.  If you have to constantly bow down to someone and constantly give without receiving anything in return, that isn't love- as a matter of fact, it is the furthest thing from love.

I'm redefining my life.  My holidays are different now, and they will be forever more.  I take each day at a time, and instead of looking at what I have lost, I am trying to focus on my many blessings and the family that I have chosen and that has chosen me.

I've had friends have husbands leave them unexpectedly, without any idea it was going to happen. So many of my friends had to redefine their careers after 2008, and our veterans come home every day to a new world that they never imagined having to live in- some without sight, hearing, or limbs.

We all have struggles and everyone has a crossroads where we have to shift our paradigms.  I hope that when you hit that place in life, whatever your paradigm shift may be, and there will be at least one in your life if you live long enough, that you are surrounded with people who love and support you.  I hope that you have friend you can call when you bawl your eyes out at two in the morning.  I have those kind of friends and I am blessed beyond measure.

I have had to learn a lot of lessons in Faith and this is part of my journey.  I've had to learn that I can't control other people or their actions and that I can only be responsible for myself.  I am not the caretaker to the world.  Grown people make their own choices and they have to live with the consequences of those actions- all of us do.

I am having to put my trust in a higher power (for me that is God) to work out things that are beyond my control and to watch over the people I love when I cannot be there to protect them.  Every day, I pray a little more. Every day,  I find more peace and I heap blessings upon the person I've lost.

Wishing you faith and love on your journey.

Love y'all,
Holly

More Photos of The Selma50 Bridge Crossing Jubilee

Shouldn't Dieting and Lifestyle Changes be Uplifting?

So, why do I feel like I want to take all of these boxes of protein bars and put them in the road and run over them like Tammy would have done George's stuff?  

Hello, my name is Holly and my drug of choice is Coca-Cola (Hello Holly, welcome).  There should be a recovery group for my people, the Co-cola people, the Mountain Dew people, the Dr. Pepper people- just like the 12 steps for alcoholics and overeaters to get off of this cracked out stuff!  The withdrawals- even after three weeks, almost four now- are still killing me and I would probably shake down a little kid just for a sip.

I have passed it up, passed it by, chosen gallons of water in its place.  I haven't cheated on my "diet" and after almost a month, I've only lost 6 pounds.  6 pounds might sound like a lot if you are a super model, but for me, well, it's a good beginning.  

To quote G.W. from Sordid Lives when talking to Noleta about her 40 pound weight loss he said "That's kind of like the Titanic losing a few deck chairs."  That's how I feel!  I was so excited in the beginning; I was thinking the pounds were melting off and I was going to be my best, perfect self by my birthday this year (December). 

See, I'm being reasonable, I'm not expecting this overnight.  And my fat ass has a long way to go. And let's don't even talk about the redneck haircut that I had in the middle of this that almost made me snap and go straight to 7-11 for a fix!

This crap is hard!  I'm an emotional eater from way back.  Right now, I could devour some birthday cake, a doughnut, and drink the hell out of a Co-cola.  Instead, I will drink another gigantic Tervis tumbler full of water- my seventh for the day- and go to bed.  I mean, I have to be in ketosis, because I have breath that smells like it belongs to a dead cat, and could stop a train. My husband thinks that I am meaner than a bag of rattlesnakes and is doing anything he can to avoid me right now.  He is working extra and playing a lot of golf.

I'm giving this program one more week.  Tonight,  I'm getting the books back out and will be following this thing to the letter.  If that doesn't work, you can find me at The Betty.  You should know, that before I check myself in to Co-cola rehab, I'm gonna suck down a six pack of Co-cola and possibly eat an entire Emily's pound cake.

Coming off of real drugs has to be some kind of nightmare, because if this is how you feel just coming off of sugar and Co-colas, I'd stab someone in the neck at rehab with the end of a shoe lace.  I can't decide whether to just start going through my closet and throwing fat- frumpy things away or put on my tennis shoes and start running like Forrest Gump.  Maybe I should just drink some bourbon?  No, can't do that, that's not on the plan.  The Forrest Gump project probably sounds like the best idea.

Singing Merle Haggard's old tune....

If We Make it Through December- Merle Haggard

Love y'all,

Holly

Subterranean Homesick Blues- and Dylan Doesn't Make it Better.

I never imagined a grown person could be so homesick.

These beautiful Japanese Magnolias are a part of my regular drive in Birmingham.  A drive that is lush and green and lined with blossoms at all times of the year.  When I am there, I am home.  I searched a lot of years and a lot of miles to find home- a place where I felt loved, where I found my tribe.

I have walked a thousand miles down that magnolia-lined road and back, around the lakes, and on those sidewalks over the past 16 years.  I have driven my children to practices, to sleep-overs, to the grocery store, and to school.  Every time that I see these trees, it evokes the feeling that Italians must have in Tuscany when they rub the dirt in the hands and know it is theirs.  This isn't my dirt, they aren't my trees, but they are my sanctuary.

I miss Vulcan towering over the city and knowing that he is always there.  And for years, he called me to prayer- for those who had lost their lives in auto accidents when his light would turn red.  When the light was green-I always gave thanks for another safe day in our city.  It was weird that a statue could call so many to prayer, but I was very sad when his light was replaced with the spear.

I look out over the Birmingham skyline and I see the place where I had my first real job, where I kissed a grown man wearing a suit for the first time, where I broke up with that same idiot for being a cheater. I see the park where my best friend from college and I used to take a blanket and have picnic lunches.

I see the restaurant where my husband and I went on one of our first dates, it has long since changed names and owners.  That restaurant is next to the building where I helped my husband move into his Birmingham office.  I can look out over that skyline and see the next office where we moved him on a Sunday night- when all was quiet and still.  I remember how he kissed me on the corner of 20th, across the street from the church where we were married, and how full of hope we were regarding our future.

It was like a movie- we were the only ones downtown, it was sort of rainy, and the winds were blowing, and there on the corner of 20th and 6th Avenue North, he kissed me like we were in a 40's movie, I will never forget it as long as I live.  I believe my heel might have popped.

Today, I'm listening to a little Dylan and trying to get over my three week visit that I just had back home to my beloved Birmingham. It is Magic, the Magic City.  There is something that gets in your blood and you are always a part of it and it is a part of you.  And although I am enjoying my Florida respite, I sure will be glad when I can sing that ole Telluride song and mean it when I say "And I"ll be in Birrrrmingham tonight." Enjoy the song below.

I'll be in Birmingham Tonight

Love y'all,
Holly