Meet The Girls

I have been MIA I know, but for good reason: I want you to meet my new friends.

Actually, they are old friends but now I know what they look like, and it’s all because of setting Intentions.

I skipped writing about intentions last year as I was apparently on the two-year plan with getting things done. Two-point-two-five year plan I guess, as it is now April. Time flies.

So hang with me here as I explain.

On the Anonymous Good Turn front, it’s still a lot of fun. Some deeds are not so anonymous but if those people pay them forward the world will just get better and heaven knows we need more people being a force for good.

Practicing Music at least 3 days a week: I manage it more often than not. Violin is continually surprising and I frequently feel like giving up but I can’t imagine living without it. It’s like the violin is…I don’t know…waiting for me to keep practicing until I unlock the secrets.

It is a patient instrument.

I had an “A-ha” moment last lesson where I finally felt my bow wrist move the way it is supposed to and my teacher saw it too and it was SO COOL!

I’m glad my teacher is patient, too.

Becoming more physically fit. This one has been and continues to be amazing. Between CrossFit Spark (CrossFit-ish), my local rec center and Eat To Perform, I have lost inches, pounds, body fat and gained muscle. Last month TWO people commented on how good I look and last night another person referred to my arms as “guns”!

Be still my heart.

Eat To Perform helped me sort out how many grams of protein, carbs and fats to eat and fits nicely with my paleo-ish omnivore self (but people who are vegan, vegetarian, whatever-arian follow ETP). Coming from chronic under-eating this has been a life-changer.

If, like me, you have tried almost every weight-loss plan out there and are frustrated, check out ETP. I am almost two years into it and am in my best shape since high school. The kids and I are a CrossFit/Eat To Perform family as Rebecca has signed on also, and likes the structure it provides. We meal prep her food for the week and enter it into her computer, then all she has to do is eat daily and do the dishes. Nifty.

I would like to say it made me run faster, but alas, no.

However, now I run the same distance then bust out some burpees, crush the assault bike (it is my favorite because it has a fan so you get air conditioning) and have enough energy left to kick butt and take names.

I LOVE being strong.

And now…drum roll…writing.




And I will calm down now because it is annoying, but seriously, I am so stoked I can hardly stand it.

My illustrator said she would be my consultant and so we have this great email system where I draw, she critiques and I draw some more. I am in heaven and I want to call in sick to work every day and make art.

My mortgage company is not agreeable though so I fit it in where I can.

And now, without further ado, meet the girls: Sally, Nell, and their coop-mates playing bug keep-away.

sketch of running chickens

I have learned a lot and will learn much more thanks to mentors who have appeared when I needed them. My 2017 intention is to self-publish this year. For reals.

Stay tuned!



Yoga Not

I should be at yoga.

That is what is on the calendar for today, in a very tightly scheduled three weeks but I kind of just…didn’t go.

Most Sunday mornings I find it refreshing but today the quiet of my little house was what I needed most.

So here I am, melted into the peace.

This week marks a year since my ex-husband stalked me (a protective order really is just a piece of paper) and I feel illogically successful that it passed without a repeat appearance. Or maybe it’s just relief.

Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

I am making a huge job change and this is my last week in my old position. I know I chose well because the morning after deciding I woke up feeling like the weight of the world was off my shoulders.

In spite of that certainty, goodbyes are hard and I am very sad to leave a this great group of nurses. They have been my work family constant in the last five years and are smart, funny and dedicated. We will keep in touch, but still…it will be different.

Today is Palm Sunday which for some reason has always been a favorite of mine. Not sure why because in the liturgy the story of the triumphal procession into Jerusalem spins rapidly into the events leading up to Good Friday. Kind of gloom and doom, actually.

But maybe I like it because I know the end of the story…Easter is coming.

Spring. Hope. Peeps.

My new job will give me more time for writing, painting, music, exercise. More time to spend with my kids (human and furry). Just. More. Time.

What a gift.

For this I am grateful beyond words so I think I will celebrate by taking Gandalf for a long walk, then head over to church.

After that Sarah and I are going to the opera to see Aida. Live opera is on my bucket list and I really don’t know what to expect. Will I be Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman? (I wish I had that dress!) Or just “meh”?

I am glad I took the time to be home this morning. It was just what I needed to re-charge.

Don’t be afraid to opt-out of your schedule of shoulds.

You are worth it.

Enjoy the First Day of Spring from Google and me.




How I Found the Perfect Tattoo

I recently read a post where a woman explained that she didn’t have a tattoo because “Why would you put a bumper sticker on a Ferrari?”

While this is clever and noble and high-minded, it is not why I have waffled about getting my own tattoo.

No….my reasons are far more mundane and un-glamorous.

I simply can’t decide what I want and where I want it.

Many years ago this indecision saved me from venturing into the seedier parts of town where “tattoo parlors” existed.

Back in the day, tattoos were a peculiar oddity and aside from the blurry blue shapes on war veterans, were only seen when the circus came to town.

Tattoo parlor.

The phrase conjured up visions of smoky back rooms populated by worldly, avaricious, jaded men and women who sported designs on body parts not generally spoken of in mixed company.

“Nice” people did not have anything to do with tattoos.

And then there was the ink quality and skill issue of tattoo artists back then: a few years ago I started an IV on a WWII vet whose anchor and ribbon had morphed into something that looked like a duck; discerning the original design was like trying to find shapes in clouds.

Thank heaven for indecision or I could now be sporting my own blue smudge.

Fast forward to today: Times (and hopefully ink and technique) have changed.

Tattoos are now known as “body art” or by the friendlier terms “tat” and “ink”,  and artists ply their trade in the bright light of day, are featured in TV series, hold huge conventions and of course have FaceBook pages.

There are gorgeous tats out there, along with spectacular flops. I don’t want to find my tat on the “tattoo fail” page, ya know?

So what’s an art-loving, indecisive girl like me to do?


Henna, or Mehndi, has been around for centuries ( and booths for this body art are now very popular at festivals and faires.

The lines are always long and I think this is because deep down, humans secretly crave art and beauty more than we realize.

Henna designs on their own are gorgeous and now they have been taken one step farther: color and sparkle are added to the paste to delight the eye as the design sets.

It’s a twofer!

With these things in mind, Sarah and I got in line at a local arts fest figuring we would have enough time to decide what to get. She knew exactly.

Me, not so much.

I dithered and considered the same questions that have always haunted me: what and where?

In the end I gave up and told the artist my price range and that she had to decide for me. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted purple sparkles in the paste.

Fifteen minutes later, I was the proud owner of this:

henna w sparkles

The paste dried and came off a few hours later and I sadly said goodbye to the glitter. I enjoyed my design for another week or so, knowing I could do it all again. A renewable resource.

Simple and elegant.


Mine, but not permanently so.

In short, the perfect tat.

If you need me, I will be in line at the henna booth.