The Olympics are over tonight. I enjoyed watching them, but I am ready to return to my "normally scheuled program". However, there is no way to let them go by without recognizing the fight for Gold during the Hockey game between the U.S. and Canada. Wow! What a game!
I'm going to start by saying that I am glad Canada won. I'm not being unpatriotic. I am being gracious. There are certain events that cannot be eclipsed in my mind. The Bucs winning the Super Bowl still outranks the Pittsburgh Six. For Tampa it was a dream so far out of reach for so long that achieving it was a thrill that will last a long time. Dale Earnhardt finally winning the Daytona 500 after being denied for so many years (and winning every other race in his career) was another moment. But the Olympic moment for me will always be The Miracle on Ice.
Do you remember that moment? I do. Our country was going through a very dark time. The Iranian Hostage Crisis was the main news topic. The embassy had been under seige for almost 3 months. If memory serves me correctly (and I could be fuzzy here) I also think that until that time patriotism was running at an all time low. National pride was in limited supply. Apathy was not. The Hostage Crisis served to re-awaken us and start to bring us closer together, but when the Americans advanced in the Hockey quest, there was a clear increase in our energy level.
The night we won Gold was a euphoric moment. People all over stood and sang our national anthem, and it didn't matter where they were; in bars, in restaurants, in airports. Larry was traveling at the time and he told me the pilot announced the win and the people on his flight cheered and then sang. When have you ever experienced that? The pride we feel in the success of our athletes is interesting, but wonderful. And one of the most wonderful parts of that win was that it was at home, in Lake Placid.
This win wasn't a first for Canada. They've won gold in hockey 8 times, but this one was on home turf and I'm happy for them. It is such fun to celebrate at home. Our time will come again, but nothing will surpass the 1980 Olympics in my mind.
Nice job, Canada. It was a great show, beautiful scenery, wonderful stories and some very sad moments. Our youth have new heroes to emulate and that is where the real gold is found. The champions from all countries are so inspiring. The sacrifices, the dedication and discipline, the hopes, these are the 'mettles' that forge real gold and I am honored to have witnessed them.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Some Days the View is Just Plain Cloudy
I'm not sure today is a good day to post my thoughts. However, the name of this blog is View From the Empty Nest and some days the view may not be so sunny. As I look outside the snow is falling. Again. It's been snowing most of the day. It snowed yesterday. In fact it has snowed 21 out of 26 days this month. Our first real snowfall was the week before Christmas and it was a beautiful snow, perfect for kids to play in. We went to Florida for Christmas and came back on New Year's Eve. It snowed December 31st and every day for the next 2 weeks. We had a break and then February hit. It doesn't help that February is the busiest traveling time for Larry. That leaves a lot of days where I am home alone.
I mentioned in an earlier post that I had found something I had written last winter on a day when I was in a very negative mood. After I found it I knew it would be important to find ways to see the sunny side on a gray day. If I'm not mistaken, last year January was a long month. But this winter February has been a very long month at the end of a very long winter.
My husband says he is an optimistic person, but I think he is an optimistic person with a good dose of realism. My youngest daughter is a pessismist with a good dose of realism. By that I mean that they are both pretty close to center in how they view the world, but one tends to see the bright side more frequently and the other tends to find the flaws. My oldest daughter is closer to her father. As for me, I am a very optimistic person. I always see the glass 3/4 full, even if it's 3/4 full of hot air. (Come to think of it, I'd LOVE to see some hot air!)
Today, when I looked at the glass it was empty, and I'm not putting it outside to see what it catches! I'm ready for a good laugh, but I will settle for a good massage. That comes on Wednesday. However, the more I look at the glass, I think I know what would fit well in it. I'm going to fill it 3/4 full of "Florida Sunshine" and 1/4 full of Russian Vodka. (Or maybe I'll reverse that. Like I said. I'm ready to laugh!)
I mentioned in an earlier post that I had found something I had written last winter on a day when I was in a very negative mood. After I found it I knew it would be important to find ways to see the sunny side on a gray day. If I'm not mistaken, last year January was a long month. But this winter February has been a very long month at the end of a very long winter.
My husband says he is an optimistic person, but I think he is an optimistic person with a good dose of realism. My youngest daughter is a pessismist with a good dose of realism. By that I mean that they are both pretty close to center in how they view the world, but one tends to see the bright side more frequently and the other tends to find the flaws. My oldest daughter is closer to her father. As for me, I am a very optimistic person. I always see the glass 3/4 full, even if it's 3/4 full of hot air. (Come to think of it, I'd LOVE to see some hot air!)
Today, when I looked at the glass it was empty, and I'm not putting it outside to see what it catches! I'm ready for a good laugh, but I will settle for a good massage. That comes on Wednesday. However, the more I look at the glass, I think I know what would fit well in it. I'm going to fill it 3/4 full of "Florida Sunshine" and 1/4 full of Russian Vodka. (Or maybe I'll reverse that. Like I said. I'm ready to laugh!)
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Frosty mornings
One of the beautiful aspects of winter are the frosty mornings. If a picture is worth a thousand words then I'll be silent here and let the pictures speak for themselves. They weren't all taken on the same day but it is days like these that brighten the heart of one who lives for blue skies.
A hoar frost cloaks the world in mystery
A Magical View
A hoar frost cloaks the world in mystery
A Magical View
Beauty is often present on the coldest days, but on days like these I don't even have to look for the silver lining. It is all around.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Where do the birds go?
I've finally been able to get out and walk again. Our sidewalks haven't been seen in a few weeks now. A few of us have tried to keep them open, but many were never shoveled out after the first snow. I confess, if it wasn't for neighbor Mike and his snowblower I doubt mine would be anywhere near as clear as they are. The streets, though clear, are narrow and because we were getting daily snowfalls, they are heavily salted. The dog has been staring at me from her bed; "Pleeease can't we doooo something????". She can draw the question out with those mournfall, longing eyes.
The last few days have been beautiful. The streets were dry and the sky was blue so Maggie and I took to them for a much needed fresh air boost. As I reached the bottom of the hill and the entrance to our neighborhood, I finally found what I had been looking for. Deer Tracks. They were far apart indicating the deer had to run or leap to get through the deep snow. I also noticed their trail was a narrow one, indicating only 1 or 2 deer were roaming. Normally after a snowfall, a walk or even a casual glance around the neighborhood reveal many traffic patterns of our local herd of deer.
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The deer are plentiful around here and they are not shy. If you take a close look at this picture you will see, beyond the birdfeeder, the outline of a deer in the ravine. This was taken from our family room window with a moderately priced camera that has a nice zoom lens. On a few occasions my husband and I have spotted them lying on the ground in the ravine. There were tracks through the earlier snowfalls that let me know they were eating our holly bush, right through the Christmas light netting. (They are much more careful than the squirrels in Florida that routinely ate right through the wiring.) No, the deer around here are not shy, but I haven't seen any tracks in 2 weeks, and I wonder where they go and how do they manage when the snow is deep and the food is buried? I know the basic answer. They hole up under a pine, eat bark and whatever they can find. The children's book "My Side of the Mountain", by Jean Craighead George was a favorite book of mine because it does help me see how things work in the woods. But what about MY deer? Where do they go?
This thought always takes me to another one that recently really puzzles me. Maybe someone out there will have an educated answer. Why do the birds so diligently build nests in the spring, and then never use them when the weather is bad? I can understand that the robin that built the nest under the deck has gone south for the winter. Smart robin! But the bluebirds that inhabited their very own bluebird house last spring left as soon as the fledgling left and never used it again. What do they do in torrential rains, or high winds, or bitter cold and snow? Where do they go when the snow lays 4 inches thick on the tree limbs? Why, oh why, did they let the house sparrow move in this winter?
Perhaps I should have been a biologist because the habits and behavior of animals puzzle me and, in the case of the deer eating my holly, frustrate me. Deer don't like holly according to the label. That brings another thought. If I was a biologist, maybe I could learn how to teach deer to read.
The last few days have been beautiful. The streets were dry and the sky was blue so Maggie and I took to them for a much needed fresh air boost. As I reached the bottom of the hill and the entrance to our neighborhood, I finally found what I had been looking for. Deer Tracks. They were far apart indicating the deer had to run or leap to get through the deep snow. I also noticed their trail was a narrow one, indicating only 1 or 2 deer were roaming. Normally after a snowfall, a walk or even a casual glance around the neighborhood reveal many traffic patterns of our local herd of deer.
The deer are plentiful around here and they are not shy. If you take a close look at this picture you will see, beyond the birdfeeder, the outline of a deer in the ravine. This was taken from our family room window with a moderately priced camera that has a nice zoom lens. On a few occasions my husband and I have spotted them lying on the ground in the ravine. There were tracks through the earlier snowfalls that let me know they were eating our holly bush, right through the Christmas light netting. (They are much more careful than the squirrels in Florida that routinely ate right through the wiring.) No, the deer around here are not shy, but I haven't seen any tracks in 2 weeks, and I wonder where they go and how do they manage when the snow is deep and the food is buried? I know the basic answer. They hole up under a pine, eat bark and whatever they can find. The children's book "My Side of the Mountain", by Jean Craighead George was a favorite book of mine because it does help me see how things work in the woods. But what about MY deer? Where do they go?
This thought always takes me to another one that recently really puzzles me. Maybe someone out there will have an educated answer. Why do the birds so diligently build nests in the spring, and then never use them when the weather is bad? I can understand that the robin that built the nest under the deck has gone south for the winter. Smart robin! But the bluebirds that inhabited their very own bluebird house last spring left as soon as the fledgling left and never used it again. What do they do in torrential rains, or high winds, or bitter cold and snow? Where do they go when the snow lays 4 inches thick on the tree limbs? Why, oh why, did they let the house sparrow move in this winter?
Perhaps I should have been a biologist because the habits and behavior of animals puzzle me and, in the case of the deer eating my holly, frustrate me. Deer don't like holly according to the label. That brings another thought. If I was a biologist, maybe I could learn how to teach deer to read.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Color My Mood
When we lived in Florida we built a brand new house. It was such a treat to have something so bright, clean, fresh--new. The walls were builder's white. In some rooms I added wall paper, but most of it was light with a small print and white background. The family complained when we came back from a trip that everything was too white, but I really liked it. One of the perks to me was that it was so easy to decorate. Choose a color in furniture, add an accent color, and it looked nice.
When we moved to Pennsylvania, we built another new house, but with this one we began painting right away. I didn't have any real reason for the switch except that times had changed and I was ready for a change. It is a big house, I do all the painting and it took a long time to get it done. By the first winter most of the main floor was done, but the family room and entry way were still white. That first winter was when I came face to face with my need for color.
Pittsburgh is a gray city. I'm not referring to the smog of the 50's. It is a clean city and very environmentally friendly. However, one of the reasons for the severe smog of the steel mill and coal mining days was that the atmosphere frequently produces a low ceiling. Smoke couldn't get out even if it wanted to. Today the air may be clean, but the sky still has a low ceiling and cloud cover is the norm. It is said that we are second to Seattle in precipitation although I've never verified that.
If Pittsburgh is a gray city, winter is a gray season. The sky is light gray. The ground is white. Sun is hard to find. The only break to the gray are the black tree trunks. Do I sound depressing? It's probably just because I haven't seen the sun in 10 days. That first winter really hit home. When I looked outside I saw..., ok, I've already covered that. When I looked around inside I saw... hmmm, exactly the same color. White.
My trips to Lowe's became more urgent. I still hadn't come to grips with the situation, but one day my daughter helped me clarify how I felt. As I told her about the 'next room' I was painting she asked the one question probably plaguing the whole family. "Mom, after living in a white house for 18 years, why are you suddenly painting every room in this house?" (Remember, she would have been happier if I had painted a few things in the old house, too!) Jokingly, I answered her, "Probably because I lived in a white house for 18 years", but the reality was white worked for me in Florida. When I looked outside I saw green everywhere, blue skies, sunshine, flowers. Color was abundant. The white walls, delicate floral wallpaper, were a retreat. It cooled the house from the vibrancy and heat of the outdoors. I loved it.
We've been here 3 years and every room has been painted. When I finally got the entryway and the family room painted I felt settled and at home. It was a huge mood booster. Many of the rooms are done in neutral or earth tones. The family room is the shade of cinnamon and has a welcoming warm feel. The entryway picks up the warm color of the wood floor. It glows. I love it.
As this winter drags on, it is the color of my walls that help me cope. It makes the house warmer, more inviting. On a sunny day, the house lights up, but on the gray days it wraps me in the feel of soft suede and welcomes me home. That is when I appreciate my need for color.
When we moved to Pennsylvania, we built another new house, but with this one we began painting right away. I didn't have any real reason for the switch except that times had changed and I was ready for a change. It is a big house, I do all the painting and it took a long time to get it done. By the first winter most of the main floor was done, but the family room and entry way were still white. That first winter was when I came face to face with my need for color.
Pittsburgh is a gray city. I'm not referring to the smog of the 50's. It is a clean city and very environmentally friendly. However, one of the reasons for the severe smog of the steel mill and coal mining days was that the atmosphere frequently produces a low ceiling. Smoke couldn't get out even if it wanted to. Today the air may be clean, but the sky still has a low ceiling and cloud cover is the norm. It is said that we are second to Seattle in precipitation although I've never verified that.
If Pittsburgh is a gray city, winter is a gray season. The sky is light gray. The ground is white. Sun is hard to find. The only break to the gray are the black tree trunks. Do I sound depressing? It's probably just because I haven't seen the sun in 10 days. That first winter really hit home. When I looked outside I saw..., ok, I've already covered that. When I looked around inside I saw... hmmm, exactly the same color. White.
My trips to Lowe's became more urgent. I still hadn't come to grips with the situation, but one day my daughter helped me clarify how I felt. As I told her about the 'next room' I was painting she asked the one question probably plaguing the whole family. "Mom, after living in a white house for 18 years, why are you suddenly painting every room in this house?" (Remember, she would have been happier if I had painted a few things in the old house, too!) Jokingly, I answered her, "Probably because I lived in a white house for 18 years", but the reality was white worked for me in Florida. When I looked outside I saw green everywhere, blue skies, sunshine, flowers. Color was abundant. The white walls, delicate floral wallpaper, were a retreat. It cooled the house from the vibrancy and heat of the outdoors. I loved it.
We've been here 3 years and every room has been painted. When I finally got the entryway and the family room painted I felt settled and at home. It was a huge mood booster. Many of the rooms are done in neutral or earth tones. The family room is the shade of cinnamon and has a welcoming warm feel. The entryway picks up the warm color of the wood floor. It glows. I love it.
As this winter drags on, it is the color of my walls that help me cope. It makes the house warmer, more inviting. On a sunny day, the house lights up, but on the gray days it wraps me in the feel of soft suede and welcomes me home. That is when I appreciate my need for color.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Some Change is Good
It's been 2 weeks now since I ended my Media FAST. Before I really reviewed the results I thought I should wait and see what the long term result was. My final assessment is that it was a success.
In many ways, I enjoyed it. I did participate in the recommended Food Fast on a limited basis, and I was very glad when it ended. I guess I can't be very surprised. I learned years ago that you find what you look for. I felt I would find the food fast annoying, or distracting, but not inspiring. That was true. I found what I expected. However, there were a few pluses that came from it. I found some healthier brands, and both Larry and I found that a bowl of shelled unsalted nuts, (walnuts, sunflower seeds, almonds) and raisins sitting on the counter were a welcome treat. Since I think salt or sugar is the key to any afternoon snack, that's a big improvement.
After a few initial days of readjustment, I was surprised at how quickly I settled into a quiet house. I expected to have the radio or CD player on all the time, but instead I was very selective about when I chose to add noise of any kind. My activities became very focused and intentional. It was a very positive change.
What happened when the FAST was over and I was free to resume my old ways? Yes, I play Free Cell frequently, but so far, I exhibit more control. I've gone back to Face Book, but I'm not compulsively driven to post anything. Two changes stand out to me. First of all, the TV is on much less than before, and I've found it is very easy to turn it off. Secondly, I've probably given up the FaceBook games: Farmville and Farmtown. I was feeling obligated to playing before the FAST. I was starting to resent the demands of having to check in and harvest or plant crops. The challenge had worn thin. I was looking for a reason to stop.
It was the FAST that gave me the chance to step back and see what really was important to me. I read more. I write more. I find it easier to stick to activities that often took a back seat to habits that had gotten in the way.
It was a good experience. I am really glad I did it. Of course, some changes are easier than others. Ask me to go ANYWHERE without my car mug of hot tea (or McDonald's large ice tea in the summer) and you've got a fight on your hands!
In many ways, I enjoyed it. I did participate in the recommended Food Fast on a limited basis, and I was very glad when it ended. I guess I can't be very surprised. I learned years ago that you find what you look for. I felt I would find the food fast annoying, or distracting, but not inspiring. That was true. I found what I expected. However, there were a few pluses that came from it. I found some healthier brands, and both Larry and I found that a bowl of shelled unsalted nuts, (walnuts, sunflower seeds, almonds) and raisins sitting on the counter were a welcome treat. Since I think salt or sugar is the key to any afternoon snack, that's a big improvement.
After a few initial days of readjustment, I was surprised at how quickly I settled into a quiet house. I expected to have the radio or CD player on all the time, but instead I was very selective about when I chose to add noise of any kind. My activities became very focused and intentional. It was a very positive change.
What happened when the FAST was over and I was free to resume my old ways? Yes, I play Free Cell frequently, but so far, I exhibit more control. I've gone back to Face Book, but I'm not compulsively driven to post anything. Two changes stand out to me. First of all, the TV is on much less than before, and I've found it is very easy to turn it off. Secondly, I've probably given up the FaceBook games: Farmville and Farmtown. I was feeling obligated to playing before the FAST. I was starting to resent the demands of having to check in and harvest or plant crops. The challenge had worn thin. I was looking for a reason to stop.
It was the FAST that gave me the chance to step back and see what really was important to me. I read more. I write more. I find it easier to stick to activities that often took a back seat to habits that had gotten in the way.
It was a good experience. I am really glad I did it. Of course, some changes are easier than others. Ask me to go ANYWHERE without my car mug of hot tea (or McDonald's large ice tea in the summer) and you've got a fight on your hands!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
What is Cold?
I am in my PJ's watching the Olympics tonight. My overall sensation is "comfy". I haven't seen much sun in the last few days and no matter what I set the thermostat at, the house seems cold. I've reached the time of year where I begin the day by putting on the first layer: long underwear, wool socks; the second layer: jeans or sweat pants, and a sweat shirt, boot socks; and if I'm going out, I add the third layer: boots, (slippers if I'm staying in) and coat, scarf, hat, gloves. If I'm shoveling the coat is a medium weight. If I'm walking, it's a heavier coat. I don't mind the cold when I'm outside, but inside I want to be warm.
Of course, my sister who lives in Canada in an old farmhouse heated only by a wood burning stove, might be laughing at me. But then, last week I was laughing at my friend in Florida who was wrapped in a blanket with a space heater at her feet.
The truth is, cold is relative. I've experienced Florida cold. It is COLD! And very damp. Florida can chill you to the bone in temperatures that feel refreshing in Pennsylvania. In fact, since this weekend is the Daytona 500 I can safely say, I am glad I can watch from my home in my comfy PJ's if I want to. I have been to the 500 when a moderately cool day translated into very cold seats high up in the stands. This weekend, the Daytona will be a cold race, not moderately cool. I'm glad I'm home.
I'm glad at the end of the day I can change out of my layers into my favorite PJ's and warm bathrobe, sit on the couch and take in the triumphs and disappointments of people who are apparently oblivious to the cold; the Winter Olympic Athletes!
What feels cold to me may be freezing to some of my friends and barely noticeable to others. Fortunatly most of us adjust to the climate we live in. I'll watch these athletes, admire their skill and discipline, rejoice when they win, commiserate when they don't, and be grateful that I can watch from the comfort of my home in my warm PJ's.
Of course, my sister who lives in Canada in an old farmhouse heated only by a wood burning stove, might be laughing at me. But then, last week I was laughing at my friend in Florida who was wrapped in a blanket with a space heater at her feet.
The truth is, cold is relative. I've experienced Florida cold. It is COLD! And very damp. Florida can chill you to the bone in temperatures that feel refreshing in Pennsylvania. In fact, since this weekend is the Daytona 500 I can safely say, I am glad I can watch from my home in my comfy PJ's if I want to. I have been to the 500 when a moderately cool day translated into very cold seats high up in the stands. This weekend, the Daytona will be a cold race, not moderately cool. I'm glad I'm home.
I'm glad at the end of the day I can change out of my layers into my favorite PJ's and warm bathrobe, sit on the couch and take in the triumphs and disappointments of people who are apparently oblivious to the cold; the Winter Olympic Athletes!
What feels cold to me may be freezing to some of my friends and barely noticeable to others. Fortunatly most of us adjust to the climate we live in. I'll watch these athletes, admire their skill and discipline, rejoice when they win, commiserate when they don't, and be grateful that I can watch from the comfort of my home in my warm PJ's.
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