Word Nerd Fun

I'm that weirdo who makes some people nervous because I am so easily entertained by finding spelling and grammar errors in print. Friends apologize to me mid-text about any mistakes they may make. Facebook friends tag me in pictures and posts featuring editing issues. Former students engage me in conversation about the proper usage of words or grammar. I correspond with my favorite English teacher to further my knowledge of certain points I'm still struggling to understand. My children take pictures as proof of mistakes they detect. Yes, I have passed this geeky trait on to my children.

It's a sickness, people. I'm not going to apologize for it. I'm OCD about spelling and grammar. That being said, I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. When I am uncertain about the usage or spelling of a word, I find a suitable replacement. 

My keyboard skills, especially on my phone, see to it that my writing contains typos, too. And it never fails; when I get a little uppity about glaring errors, karma sees to it that I misspell something soon thereafter, just to keep me humble. Do I laugh at my own mistakes? Yes, I do.

I have an agreement with certain people that they will alert me whenever they spot typos (I'm being generous; sometimes they are just plain, old mistakes) in my blog. Daddy was a good one for historical accuracy, and my daughter has an eagle eye at spotting written errors. I have a friend who is up each morning, even before I am, who is good to find mistakes for me, and she lets me know before too many witness my shortcomings. 

One time, Bridger and I were road-tripping through Colorado when I was reviewing my published blog post of the day while he was driving. 

"BRIDGER! I've made a HORRIBLE mistake. Pull over at the first McDonald's so I can use their wi-fi. I HAVE to fix it." I actually found a couple more mistakes en route. He teased me until we got there. While I furiously corrected my typos, he enjoyed an ice-cold beverage, and my panic attack. Disaster averted, we headed on our way.

Not everyone appreciates my humor. Of course, like-minded people band together, and I have found myself in good company in my writing group who will chuckle with me. We love malapropisms, and glaring mistakes. Okay, some of us even enjoy teeny, tiny, technical mistakes.

I realize we all have gifts in different areas. Maybe you are a math brain who would scoff at the way I arrive at my answers on a word problem. (That has happened on more than one occasion.) Perhaps you're an IT guy who cannot fathom my lack of understanding of how computers work. You may be a history buff who would be floored with how poorly I remember historical facts. My lack of geographical information is laughable. I get it. Not everyone will appreciate why I find some of these things so hilarious, but just in case you do...

Here are some of the things I've found, in print, that I think are side-splittingly hilarious. Indulge me for a moment today...

This is for my favorite English teacher, Ms. Ponton, who despises the use of the phrase "a lot," even when it is spelled correctly. 

Bridger and I sent her this pic from the Charlotte airport, knowing how much this would grate on her nerves. See how much fun we have? My level of word geekiness knows no bounds.

Just really wishing that the plural form of eraser had been used on this one. (Hint: Spelling matters, too!)

See? This is what would happen if I made fun of poor spelling on an eCard. (There's "a RAT" in SEPARATE, people.)

How about, "I have been CHANGED for good?"

My OCD is TINGLING, too.

You can choose the prettiest font available, and this will still be ugly to me BECAUSE the word "because" only has one A in it! I'm not even going to discuss the punctuation in this.

Who's splitting hairs now? I am. Technically, this should read, "Don't you wish your girlfriend WERE grammatically correct like I (am)?" Trust me on this one. It has to do with the subjunctive tense. (Yes, there are entire threads of discussion on the internet about this very eCard for grammar nerds. You can check it out HERE.)

Call your first grade teacher. Ask her for a refresher course on the the correct usage of the words A and AN before a word containing a vowel. 

Can you relate to this one?

I'm thinking even "old school" folks believe in capitalizing I as a subject pronoun, and they would probably agree that it should read, "Share if you ARE proud..." Perhaps the random capitalization is considered "artistic."

I can APPRECIATE that not everyone comes by spelling naturally, but if one were going to take the time to make this nice little graphic, and use a big word like APPRECIATE, one might also do a little proofreading before publishing it.

I would LOVE a dictionary for Christmas, but I'm weird. I think I have just proved that in so many ways. 

By the way, if you find any mistakes in today's blog post, leave me a comment. I told you, any time I have too much fun with this kind of stuff, karma usually bites me on the butt. I would love to fix my editing errors before too many people discover them. (I'll even post your name on Facebook, along with my error. How's that for incentive?) I'm expecting to hear from my kids within the hour.

Happy Hunting! 

Enjoying the Honey Moon; Not to Be Confused with the HONEYMOON

Early Friday morning, I remembered that 12:11 A.M. was reportedly the best viewing time of the "honey moon." At that particular time, though, I was in my deepest slumber, and when I awoke at four, I'd missed out on the perfect view. 

After I finished my writing for the day, I stepped outside my front door to take a look. The moon loomed large above our little town, and I remembered with fondness so many early morning runs under a full moon a few years back. I decided to take advantage of the cool morning air, and the added bonus of the beautiful moon, and go for a very early walk. Best idea of the week.

As I walked this morning with my INTENTION of mindfulness, the smell of the family-owned dairy filled my nostrils as I headed down Ross Lane. The humidity in the air made it seem extra-ripe today. 

"Smells like money," I could hear my friend Gloria say. 

It made me smile to think of her. It's all in our perspective. Gloria is the daughter of a dairyman, and the familiar smell reminds her of home, and what her father always told her. Taking time to dwell in the moment has its drawbacks sometimes, as we notice the feelings, the sights, AND the smells. I guess it's all in your point of view. I thought it smelled less like money, and more like...manure and disinfectant.

There are orioles that jump from branch to branch in the branches of the old dead trees that line Ross Lane each time I walk there. They chirped as they flitted among the trees this morning as I strode past. I love the rough, gnarled branches silhouetted against the early morning sky. 

I noticed I was up before the milkers as the men waved before turning their trucks onto the dairy's entrance. I could hear the clanking of metal on metal down by the cinderblock milking barn; probably the cows pushing their heads through the fence to get their breakfast of grain and hay. The water was rushing through the canal alongside the road.

Having the moon over one shoulder, and the sun rising over the other, for some reason, the words from the chorus of The Jeff Healey Band's song, "Stuck in the Middle with You" came into my head.

"Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,

Here I am; stuck in the middle with you."

Except I no longer feel stuck. There are no clowns or jokers; I'm not stuck with anyone. I am as free as a bird these days. Finding myself between a sunrise and a moonset is a great place to be. My smile broke into a grin.

There are still overwhelming moments when I'm paralyzed by my solitary life, but for the most part, I'm just grateful. I realize I am now in a position to truly become my authentic self. This is my time to grow, and learn, and discover. I would be foolish to rush this stage of my life. I remind myself not to hurry, and not to worry. Things are falling into place. I am exactly where I need to be.

The air was pleasantly cool. As I trudged up my last hill on the dirt lane, the sun changed the sky from a deep, blue-grey to a peachy pink. The sunrise in the reflection of the canal caught my eye.

This was not a day for iPods or conversation. I was alone with my thoughts, and feeling reflective. My intention for the day had been mindfulness, and I was more aware of the beauty around me, and the many blessings in my life. These meditative walks give me an opportunity to express my gratitude for the goodness and abundance in my life. 

My whispered thanks included gratitude for my family's relative good health, my children's recent visit, my parents and siblings, my new job, a fresh start, my little house. 

Winter is over and done; spring is giving way to summer, and I have so many reasons to be thankful. Gratitude changes the way we look at things. There is always something for which to be grateful, and being mindful gives me the time and space to notice even more. 

Living life with intention requires a little more thought, but it's so worth it. Each day, each moment, gives us even more "bang for our buck." We see more returns on our investment as we notice our breath, and our surroundings, and our gifts. The time will pass anyway; we might as well make the most of it.

What will be your intention today? My value must always be courage, but for now, I want to immerse myself more fully in each moment again. For today, my intention will once again be mindfulness. Want to join me?

An Owl's Gift

The night embraced me softly as my breathing slowed, and my mind relaxed into the nonsensical thoughts that always come as sleep blurs my thinking. Outside, a full moon lit up the nighttime sky, but in my darkened bedroom, I was oblivious to anything beyond my closed eyelids.

Sometime around one o'clock, my eyes opened, and adjusted to the darkness. I had heard a familiar noise, and smiled. Keeping my breath soft, I strained to hear that sweet sound again. The soft call of a Great Horned Owl, sultry and smooth, somewhere in the night. 

While I knew it couldn't be MY OWL, my feathered friend in Marysvale, it was AN owl. Once again, my thoughts turned to the Native American legends. What could I learn from his presence?

Etsy Artist: Ryan Glassman

Owls are considered to be perceptive creatures, and encourage us to develop our own skills of intuition. At this time in my life, I will need to use discernment as my circle of friends enlarges, to ensure that I am surrounded by those who will uplift and support me. 

I'm thinking this time, the owl may have been reminding me just how far I have come. Out of darkness and fear, and into light and joy, I have traveled. I'm returning to my true path, and perhaps his voice was reminding me of that. 

As I pulled the covers back over my shoulders, I pressed a smile into my pillow, feeling gratitude for his presence, and this unexpected gift in the night. 

Music to My Ears

If I had been riding my bike in the city, or on a well-traveled highway, it might have been inadvisable to listen to music while working out, but on this particular day, I would only be traveling on the bike trail into Marysvale, and I was counting on my iPod to trick my mind into enjoying the exercise.

Riding through the shadows cast by the tall trees along the Marysvale Bike Trail, I ran into a friend walking there. I interrupted the music when I pulled my earplug out of my ear to hear what she was saying. She warned me of a snake across the path. Sure enough, he was still there, slowly making his way into the grass.

The research shows that music is great for distracting, numbing pain, and soothing anxiety. I wanted to drown out the sound of my lungs gasping for air, and to take my mind off of the physical exertion of riding up into the canyon.

As my bike crested the small hill that looks into the canyon, the sun was already glaring above the horizon of red rock cliffs. My iPod's music filled my ears with the sound of a bamboo flute.

The bike path stretched before me like a great serpent slithering into Marysvale Canyon. My arms were heated by the bright sun, and the slight breeze was welcome. The haunting sounds of Yashu's flute made for a beautiful soundtrack for this moment.

My thoughts wandered to another time. I wondered if some woman from the ancient Paiute tribe had come this way many years before, riding a pony or walking into the canyon to have time to herself; to explore. The steep canyon walls on either side of the Sevier River would have made a good home for a tribe, I would think. I often wonder what life was like before there were so many people here, so much evidence of civilization.

The New Age instrumentals of The Wind Machine's "Sands of Time" helped me pedal faster up the small rises in elevation, and made me smile as I glided down to the next rising slope. I'm not speedy, and I recalled the teasing I'd recently had about my 12 MPH rides. 

"Can you keep the bike upright at that speed?" I could hear his smile on the phone. If he only knew that my average is probably closer to 9-10 MPH, what would he say then? I justified my lack of speed by explaining that I'm a beginner, and I bike for the sheer pleasure of it, as much as the light exercise. 

Before I knew it, I'd cycled my way to The Big Rock Candy Mountain, my turnaround point. The sun was higher in the sky, and I squinted to feel it on my face. I was glad I'd taken a cycling friend's advice to wear my padded shorts. My tush was so much more comfortable with the extra layer of protection. After I guzzled a few more ounces of water, I put my bike back on the path, and set off for home.

My iPod continued to play wonderful accompaniments to my ride. I just smiled when Ludovico Einaudi's piano serenaded me with "Fly" as my dampened bangs dried under my bike helmet in the wind created by my speed as my bike careened down a long hill. I recalled the nighttime driving scene from the movie The Intouchables when the characters raced down the streets of Paris in a Maserati to this very song. 

As I stopped for a water break about three miles from home, a

slight breeze blew my hair out of my eyes as General Johnson and the Chairmen of the Board sang "On the Beach." There was no ocean, no sand, so salty air, and yet, I felt transported to the Carolinas as I stood above the town of Joseph, surveying the fields of alfalfa before me. I found myself smiling throughout the whole 17 mile bike trip, even though the exertion left me dripping with sweat, and breathing hard. Thank goodness the iPod drowned out the sound of my breathing. I almost forgot I was working out. 

This Creature of Habit

It is so easy to become a creature of habit. Before we realize what's happening, our lives become routine, and oh, so predictable. 

Roll out of bed, start the Keurig, grab the ice pack for my back, settle into the recliner with my laptop, write, sip coffee, write some more. Go to the gym. Tidy up the house... Before I know it, I've blown through my morning without giving a thought to living in the moment. Going through the motions is so different than living life with intention.

Lately, even though so many exciting things are taking place in my life, I have noticed a complacency in my attitude. I'm missing some of the vigor and excitement that should be mine as I enjoy this last bit of my waning retirement. This morning as I reflected over my daily routine, I realized the routine was missing something essential: setting an intention for the day.

Think of an intention as a theme for each moment of your day. By keeping our purpose in the back of our minds, we allow ourselves to live in the now more fully. Whether we choose mindfulness, love, compassion, appreciation, or some other elevating thought, we give ourselves an opportunity to live our lives more aware, and thereby, with a larger sense of purpose.

Why not shake things up a bit by setting an intention for your day? If you've never set an intention, there are some suggestions for INTENTIONAL LIVING in this link. 

For today, this creature of habit is going to set an intention. I plan to focus on mindfulness. It seems a good place to start since it has been some time since I have given this daily ritual any thought. And, as always, my value will be courage. Courageously mindful. Mindfully courageous. 

What will your intention be today? 

Related posts about intentional living:

Because I Have Been Given Much

What Can One Person Do?

No More Comfort Zone

Some days I don't know if I'm DARING GREATLY à la Brené Brown, or just simply casting all caution to the wind with a "devil may care" attitude. I'm living again; that's the point. The numbness is gone. That "frozen to the face" feeling rock climbers get when the next move seems impossible is no longer dogging me at every turn. The fear in my life has been replaced by enthusiasm. 

Surely there is a happy medium, and I think I'm on my way to finding it, but for now, the risk-taking invigorates me. I no longer wake up, fraught with worry or anxiety. Throwing back the covers, I hustle in to the kitchen, fire up the Keurig, and wonder what fear I will face down today.

There've been little fears, and big ones. Loneliness. Meeting new people. Ending retirement. Medical issues. Finding a job. Planning a trip. Dating. Joining the gym. Pushing myself physically. 

There is no stone going unturned it seems. I will no longer accept the unacceptable. I'm not willing to put up with situations that are uncomfortable, boring, or lonely. I'm in control of how I feel, and I am taking a pro-active approach to my life.

My best friend since junior high sent me a card of encouragement, and the gift of this refrigerator magnet, which I have taken on as a daily mantra.

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone."

Thank you, Lynn. Your support has always been unwavering.

Comfort or courage? I ask myself. It seems as though every time I start to get a little too comfy in my life, there is another tough choice to be made. I try to think it through, and make the best decision I can, rather than putting it on the back burner to contend with later, delaying decisions, and therefore, progress. 

Gone are the days of staring into the canyon, mulling over what I saw as very limiting options. Once I was able to RELEASE MY EXPECTATIONS and let go of my attachment to the outcome, my life began exceeding the limiting view I'd previously held. 

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," I remind myself. Where before I may have held back, kept myself in check, or simply avoided emotional discomfort, I now find myself pushing the envelope, testing the water, looking for the next opportunity for growth.

It helps to be surrounded by a cadre of friends who encourage my growth, who have set the bar high in pursuing dreams of their own. We challenge each other in our thinking, and thereby, our actions. They seem like such simple things now, this daring greatly, and leaning into the discomfort. I used to be so afraid of being uncomfortable, but now I see that for growth to occur, for progress to be made, we have to push through those moments to come out on the other side, where all the good stuff is just waiting for us. 

My circle of friends has grown to include strong women and encouraging men who have helped me grow and see my potential. I see myself differently now. As I push past my comfort zone, I find I am much more comfortable with myself, which may seem a contradiction, but until you've tried it, you may not understand the connection. I have hope now. And I have every reason to believe that my life is about to get better than I ever dared to imagine. Life. Is. Good.

Monsters Under the Bed

The same imagination that permitted me to find shapes in the clouds during the days of my childhood allowed me to see monsters in the darkness of my room at night. 

"Daaaaddy!" I would squeal, just before hyperventilation overtook me. He would leave his TV program in the family room to come to my rescue. We had it down to a routine. The scariest things were under my bed. He would kneel down beside my bed, and would lift the blankets to peer underneath.

"No monsters here, Princess."

"Check the closet. I saw one in the closet."

He would walk over to my closet, and look in both sides of the sliding doors.

"No monsters here, Princess."

Satisfied that my room was safe, I would hug him tightly, and kiss his neck.

"Thank you, Daddy. Would you leave my light on?"  He would.  

"And leave my door open?  In case I need you?" He would.

With the light on my dresser illuminating my small room, there were no dark shadows creating awful creatures to terrify me. I still kept my hands and feet under the covers so nothing could get me while I slept. To be safe, I never allowed my extremities to get near the edge of the bed. I could only imagine what lurked under my bed before Daddy came to do his sweep of the premises.

Throughout childhood, okay, to be frank, until I became a mom, I was terrified of the dark, and monsters in my closet, and that awful thing that lived under my bed with long fingernails that would snatch my hand or foot if I dared let any appendage dangle from the safety of bed's edge. I slept lightly, always aware when Daddy headed to the kitchen for his midnight snack. To be in his presence meant safety (and cookies) so I always made a bee-line for the kitchen when I knew he was there.

Even as a teenager, I can remember arguing with myself on hot, sultry nights in Virginia, that logically, I knew that sheets were not magical, and were no protection against evil forces. I would experiment, and dangle my hand over the edge of my bed, tempting fate, and withdraw it quickly, and tuck it back under the relative safety of the sheet, wishing for all the world I were brave enough to sleep on top of those infernal covers.

Monsters under the bed no longer frighten me, which is just as well seeing as Daddy is no longer here to help protect me from them. 

Since he has gone, I have had to face my fears on my own. I am finding my brave. I am learning to embrace the darkness, knowing there is the promise of a new day in the morning. Facing my fears has made me realize I am braver than I knew. I think Daddy would be proud. 

What Are You Grateful For?

One particularly bleak winter's night, my daughter suspected I wasn't feeling very well when my texted responses to her questions were short, terse answers. She called me, and wanted to know what was wrong. 

It had been a taxing day emotionally, but nothing too earth-shattering. I was just feeling blue.

"Tell me three things that are absolutely perfect about this moment in time. What are you grateful for right now?"

My little girl had been taking notes. We both approach setbacks much the same way, seeking the silver linings in our dark clouds. I'd gotten bogged down in my troubled thoughts, and hadn't tried to work my way out of them.

I let out a long, slow breath. "Well, the shirt I'm wearing is really, really soft. I love the texture."

"Good. That's one. What else?"

"Even though the house is cold, my electric blanket is keeping me toasty warm. It feels so good to be under the covers."

"That's great, Ma. One more..."

"Um..." My mind raced to think of one more thing for which to be grateful. Ah. "You cared enough to ask me that question. Thank you, Sisi."

And it's that simple. No matter how dark the day, how miserable the moment, there is always something for which to be grateful. It may be a physical sensation, a slightly good turn of events, the weather, or a blessing we've taken for granted, but if we take the time to dwell in each moment, we will be pleasantly surprised that there are good things to be found.

Think about it right now. What three things would you count as your blessings in this very moment? Living in the now is simply being aware of the simplest things: our feelings, our breath, and our gifts. The more we practice this, the easier it becomes. 

Today I am grateful for the new friends who have come into my life with impeccable timing, the lace curtains tinged with a peachy pink as the sun is rising, and that my youngest is sleeping soundly in his room, here with me this week. Noticing with gratitude the blessings that are mine simply reminds me how truly blessed I am.

Love Over Fear

Choosing love over fear. What a concept. And yet, isn't fear our natural response, unless we are mindful that we actually have a choice? Isn't that our default move when confronting a challenging "opportunity?"

By GIVING OUR WORDS A VOICE, we empower ourselves to face life's challenges with grace and dignity. I know for a long time, I believed that there was a negative connotation in making my voice heard. I've come to understand that if I seek peace daily, and come from a loving place in myself when I speak, conversations deepen, understanding grows, and the communication that takes place is liberating.

There may be an appropriate time and place for clenched fists, tightened jaws, ranting, and shouting, but I haven't had to resort to that. Those outcomes are what I feared had to take place to make myself heard. The people in my life who care about me respond well to a soft voice and an open heart.

We always have a choice when we respond or react. Knowing that, wouldn't we all do well to choose love? Love seems to me to be the pro-active choice; fear, the reactive. When life's challenges come our way, if we want to control our reactions to them, making love our intention seems to be the better choice. Every time we allow the fear to overtake us, we lose. We will never be able to control other people or the events of our lives, but we can always determine how we will respond to them. I'm sticking with love. Choosing love makes sense when nothing else does.

Run Because You Can

RUN

Run with the confidence

that comes from being loved.

Run away from the confusion

and the noise.

Run toward the peace that comes

from giving your best.

Run through the pain

and loneliness.

Run with the memories

of your heart.

Run beyond the boundaries

your mind tells you are there.

Run for those who can't;

for those who wish they could,

and for those who never will.

RUN BECAUSE YOU CAN.

-Denise Jackson

Photo credit: KaTrina Anderson

A fun day with the girls. Here we are
BEFORE the race, and BEFORE the color.

Love this woman. Thank you for peer-pressuring us all to run with you. Well, technically, I ran BEHIND you, but that's just so you know, "I've got your back."

Getting colored before the race.

Tucking a phone under my shirt didn't protect it from the colors,
but it was worth a shot. This old hiker isn't much of a runner,
but I managed to run more than half of the 5K. Go, me!

Why do I run?

Why would a non-runner run a 5K? I run for family members. I run for lifelong friends. I run for friends I've never met. And I run for myself, not that I am a cancer survivor, but because cancer has touched my life, and I want to try to make a difference.

I ran in memory of Grandma and Grandpa, and others in my life I have known and loved. I ran in support of my friends, who are fighting the good fight, and continue to live as survivors and heroes.

Corey, Leslie, Tania, Dillon, Elisabeth, Yuriko, Erin, Victoria... you inspire us all with your lives. Thank you for giving the world a reason to believe in heroes.