It's All About the Journey

Today is your future. Live in the moment!


Psychology Today & Eudora Welty

I live among control freaks.  I should know better.  I should study my notes more: Glasser, Jung, Szondi, and a little bit of Freud.  I throw Freud in only because he was mentioned in articles so I didn’t feel it wise to throw him OUT.

I don’t even need to tell you why I am writing, you can read it all here, Eudora Welty explained it very well in the short story, “Why I Live at the P.O.”  This was originally published in 1941.

https://art-bin.com/art/or_weltypostoff.html

So the next time you think you have no control, comfort yourself with these words.  And smile.

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It Must Be the Moon

Anxiety and irritation and I need to shake it. Or maybe just feel it. I remember someone saying awhile back “it’s the moon!” Well, it IS full. And a blood moon.

I’ll take it! And feel better tomorrow!

Targeting what’s wrong and knowing it will pass makes peace possible!


Fanning My Flame

Surrounded by the comforts of my ancestors, words from the philosophies of Emerson and Thoreau, I am reminded of who I am and where my soul thrives. All of the outside world fades, for just this brief moment of time, and I fan the flame called my soul, into a roaring fire that drives me forward into 2019 and shows me that happiness is right here, inside of me.


Mary Poppins is My Middle Name

I have chosen this because I somehow believe that I am “practically perfect in every way!”

Nonsense.  Push it aside and you find an older woman (not even middle aged by definition, although I still consider myself in that age range) who tries so much to be practically perfect and be it to everyone.  STILL.

I actually chose the title of this article today because my great striving this holiday season is to go see the newest Mary Poppins movie.  I love Mary Poppins.  I want to be Mary Poppins.  Mary Poppins has every hair in place.  She wears wonderful hats.  She has a carpet bag that houses a mirror, a large plant, and all things magic.  She has an image that competes with her in the mirror!  Mary Poppins jumps into chalk drawings and creates an adventure. Mary Poppins sees the humor, and rolling her eyes, joins in as eccentric Uncle Albert rolls with laughter on the ceiling.   Mary Poppins spouts wisdom.  Mary Poppins looks at adults and says things like “supercalifragilisticexpialidoscus.”   Nonsense that no one understands, but eventually accept  and not grudgingly.  I want to dance on chimney tops with my Bert (yes, my Bert and I actually DO ballroom dancing)!

I love my grandchildren and want to be their Mary Poppins.  I want to look at their parents–my children–and have them see a crazy old woman who zips up and down staircases with their children, doles out sweet tasting goodies that are good for you to awe those little children into thinking their grandma is magical, when really she is just a crusty old lady with acceptance issues!  But the crusty old lady thinks her grandchildren are the cats’ meow and will do anything to love and entertain them.  Anything to leave her mark on their lives.  Anything to become a historical creature, without doing anything illegal, of course.  And when I leave, whether temporarily through the clouds, sporting my umbrella, or forever on that day, I want to be remembered.

That’s why I do the things that I do.  I write letters that I hope my children (and grands) read, I write journals, so they know who is living in the hyphen, and I become an historical person that actually LIVED, not a vague name on an ancestry listing.  I may never be a national figure, or international figure like Mary Poppins, I will never be a notorious queen, such as Mary, Queen of Scots, or poor Ann, who lost her head over Henry VIII’s whim.  But for what I am hoping is that, for two generations to come, I am.

So let me strip that Mary Poppins middle name from the title, and be Grandma.  Perfect in every way.  And not even practically!


Culinary Conclusions

I am no expert. I will never be Julia Child. However, I have learned about rare and the roast beef.

First: 325 is way too warm to reheat eye of round roast. It “finished it.” Boo. I tell you, I am so happy I got a nibble of the rare first (picture in case you missed it):

Please see my former posts for the recipe. This is truly a deliciously perfect recipe. But don’t reheat it, eat immediately. It’s perfect.

I did (obviously and to my disappointment) reheat and blew it. Fortunately it’s all gone, everyone ate it and enjoyed it (even though we all admitted it would have been better if served as sliced. I will remake this recipe. I will succeed.

If you make it, come back and comment. I’d love to hear from you!