My, Umm, Our Beach House

I've been thinking of a new name for my blog and all that goes with it - Facebook page, etc. It's been My Beach House for so long but I just got married in June and we are renovating a bigger beach house so I've been thinking of a new name. Driftwood Shores, because my husband is a part-time driftwood artist, Willow Shores, because the new house is in a neighboring community called The Willows. I've actually lost some sleep over this.

After two and a half months of marriage, having been single for more years than I want to admit, I believe I've come upon the perfect name:

MY, umm, OUR BEACH HOUSE

After this very short period of marriage it has become quite clear to me and my husband that we are so used to living alone (with the exception of our kids, one each), that sometimes it's hard to remember you have another person to consider. And because he has such a generous and mannerly nature, when I say "WE" I mean "ME." He will always pour me a cup of coffee. He will even ask if I want another one. He never leaves things lying around, unless I'm supposed to review or sign something, which I might get to in days. On the other hand, I'm the person who pours one big glass of wine and then plops down on the couch and says, "What?"

My story about finding Mr. Right is very long, but I wrap it up in a little snippet I call, "THE LIST." All of my friends and my husband have heard it a dozen times so I'll write it here and never mention it again. In all the years that I was alone and longing to find love, a list developed. My list included the things that I was looking for in a partner. Of course, my list was longer at 50 then it was at 25, which is why I had been divorced for so long. If I'd been as picky my first time around...well, that's another story! The top items on my list were: a man who is kind, a man who makes me laugh, a man who likes to travel, a man who is good to my child, a man who is a Christian. I only had one physical requirement - a man who is tall. While my husband meets all of that criteria, including being 6'7", there were other less important items that he didn't meet. But that's not the surprise in the story. The punchline of "THE LIST" is how completely surprised I was that he had his own list. And the newsflash was that I didn't meet all of those items. This is what happens when we spend too long alone. We are the only person in our story except for the unknown love that is out there somewhere. Imagine my shock that he had his own list. And then imagine my humbling when he chose me anyway.

We've been married for almost three months now and together for almost five years. We had our own lives 80 miles apart and spent a considerable amount of time away from each other. Now that we're making our lives together every day, it's a big adjustment. Much of it is humorous. We have both had to apologize often and bite our tongues daily! Throw in that we are both retired and we have purchased a home that needs renovations. We each own a home and fortunately his has finally sold. And my college senior daughter is living at home this semester while doing an internship locally. It's been quite a summer. 

At this point, those major qualities on my list have had to be exercised often, especially the sense of humor and following Christ. Between them both, I am reminded often that this is a shared journey and that I have much to learn about being less selfish, more faithful, and to put my husband first. That was when I knew that I had finally met the man I longed for - when his happiness became as important to me as my own. But I've also discovered that love and marriage are as much action verbs as they are nouns. 

365 Days of Gratitude

A few years ago I participated in a Facebook event called 101 Days of Gratitude. The first day was 101 days before Thanksgiving and the event culminated on Thanksgiving Day. The next year, I started one of my own events and invited my Facebook friends. It is a marvelous and spiritual avenue for counting and sharing your blessings. This year, when Thanksgiving Day came, we all shared that we would be sad for it to end.

My parents - Grateful for life and their love

My childhood home for the first 18 years of my life!

I changed the name of the group to 365 Days of Gratitude, and the group has continued. We don't share every day like we do during the 101 Days, but we keep in touch regularly and share what is going on in our lives and ask for prayers when needed. The group has been a wonderful way to focus on the things that are important: family, love, art, beauty and laughter. 2016 may go down as the most cynical year in American history!

My Bible - so grateful for God's Word.

August 11, 2016 is Day 1 of 101 Days of Gratitude 2016. We welcome all to join us. Every year I am so thankful for many new things to add to the most precious blessings that I hold near. It is an effort some days to come up with something new. It stretches me to focus on the positive. What about you? Are you thankful for the air you breathe, your health, your children or that 10 year old dog who is your faithful companion?

Laughter - is there anything better?

This year I have some new blessings that I've collected over the last year: my husband, our new home, our new community, some new friends, renovations, new goals. I'm looking forward to the daily focus on gratitude. The Lord has been so good to me. I've added some photos of gratitudes from year's past. Think about how you have been blessed and share them with us over on 365 Days of Gratitude. Looking forward to meeting you!

The Beauty of Nature. 

A Morning Meditation

We missed the sunrise by about half hour but we still managed to paddle away from the shore around 6:30 a.m. The 90-100 degree heat of the last two weeks makes it easy to stay inside, and retirement makes it easy to sleep in, but I committed myself to it today and managed an early rise.

We paddled straight out into the Chesapeake Bay away from the beach in the path of the day’s new sun. After awhile, we just stopped talking and paddled and floated on our own. Black coffee still hot in my thermos mug and as I leaned back my thoughts turned to God. That old saying, “If you feel far from God, ask yourself, ‘Who moved?’” I never feel far from God but that’s sort of the problem. Over the last few years I don’t think of Him enough.

I began talk to Him, quietly meditating on His presence. The slight current slapped gently along the bottom of my kayak, as I closed my eyes and breathed in the air.  A look around and I could see Sam at least a football field away, doing the same thing. Just laid back, feet propped up on the bow, rising and falling with the water.  Why don’t we do this more often – enjoy the early morning when no one else is around?

All the normal excuses:  we spent the spring planning a wedding, a honeymoon, buying a house, trying to sell one, getting our joint finances in order, helping our kids, doing laundry, making meals, living day to day.

But at that moment on the water, I thought of all the horrible news the world has had lately – terrorism here and abroad, politics pitting us against one another and the lawlessness of our leaders. I ask God to help me again, “Help me focus on you, Lord. Help me to honor you.” Early morning trips on the kayak or long walks, getting back to healthy eating and exercise. Find a church.  Help others.  Pray more.  I’ve lived an amazingly blessed life. I’ve suffered loss and heartbreak but God’s blessings overshadow those. It’s time to be more mindful. I’m shooting for the actual sunrise tomorrow.

Fifty-five

I turned 55 last Friday. I was thinking that in honor of that milestone, I would list 55 things about me that I would like my readers to know. Then I realized that I probably don't have 55 readers and making lists that long would probably discourage anyone who is considering following.

So, first, you're welcome. And second, in honor of my faithful readers, I will only post a list of ten things. I will just dip my hand into the fishbowl and pull out a slip of paper to determine what category my list will cover.

List 10 topics that are on my mind lately. I'm glad I picked this because quite frankly, I've had a lot on my mind lately and maybe by listing them, I can come up with the sub-categories for the blog.
Here goes - in no particular order.

1. Getting married. I'm getting married on June 4, 2016. A little strange being a 55-year old bride.

2. Finding our new home. We have two. We would like to sell one and buy another one in the South. We've started exploring and need to do more of that.

3. Retiring. Having sold my business after 15 years, I am currently on contract with the new owners until 1/31/16. After that, who knows? Maybe you all can help me figure that out.

4. Faith. It's been about 7 years since I belonged to a church or attended regularly. I miss it. My faith is strong but I think I'd like to be part of a church community again.

5. My 20-year old daughter. She's always on my mind. And frequently on my nerves. Off at her junior year of college - I miss her greatly.

6. Crochet and crafting. Don't laugh. My mother taught me to sew and crochet many, many years ago. Right now I'm relearning crochet and it's my latest board on Pinterest.

7. Whole 30. I guess the topic is really better nutrition - eating right, drinking less, more exercise, etc., but I started another Whole 30 yesterday so that will be a focus for the next 28 days.

8.  My fiance. He's really a wonderful guy. I don't give him enough credit.

9. Politics/Current Events. Watching the debate tonight while I crochet! We're in a pickle in this country. We need some leadership.

10. Books. I have a casual little book club on Facebook called My Beach House Book Club. This month we're reading The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah.

As soon as I wrap this up I'll think of 5 other things that are on my mind. But I just got a phone call from my girl who wants to discuss her day. I need to get that call done by debate time!

Pink Eye and the Fog

The week before Christmas, with many gifts unwrapped and projects unfinished, I came down with pink eye. I had never had it before, so at 54 years old with a goopy, itchy eye, I became quite disabled. For three mornings I woke up with my eye sealed shut with the crusty infection. During the day, it would itch so much that I would have to lay down with a hot cloth over my eye and just rest. This isn't something that I normally do - especially during the holidays - to lay down with nothing but my thoughts. I did a lot of thinking.

One of the things I thought about was the precious gift of sight. Having had Lasik surgery 4-5 years ago, I still have the doctor's orders in my memory, "Do not rub your eye!" And so, as I rubbed and rubbed, I would worry about whether it was possible to move that top layer around and injure the eye further or even go blind. I'm not sure if people who have never had eye surgery would worry about that over a simple case of pink eye, but I did.

At one point, laying on the bed at John's house, I was thinking about what my life would be like if I went blind. Although my mind turned to something that I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit, I am actually glad that it happened. It was a moment of clarity about where my focus should be in the New Year. John and his son were in the living room watching television which I could barely hear and I lay in the quiet bedroom with a warm cloth over my eye. I thought, "If I were blind, I would not be so distracted by other things. If I were blind, I would focus more on Christ and prayer." Within seconds of this thought, I was incredibly aware of what had justs gone through my mind and I was humbled. I really need to remember that and focus more on Christ. I need to learn how to overcome distractions to devote myself to Him.

I was finally able to drive and make it back to the Beach House on Sunday night and I awoke in the morning to a thick fog over the Chesapeake Bay and the lovely song of fog horns from the ships out on the bay. As I sat in the back room listening to the fog horns and drinking my morning coffee I thought about the beauty of that lonesome, mournful sound. Ships calling out in the fog to one another, "I'm here! Take note!" My thoughts went to my previous musings about being blind, and I felt instantly that God was underscoring that with the sound of the fog horns. The Lord said, "I'm here! Take note!"

I am not a New Year's Resolution type of person. Seriously. I'm not in bad shape, but I am not motivated so much by creating challenges for myself. I seem to focus more on relationships than getting in shape. In 2014, I enjoyed some wonderful milestones and a few setbacks. I'm pretty happy with my life and I don't feel like I would be happier if I weighed less or made more money. But I do feel the yearning for a closer relationship with my maker. I remember how I felt when I relied on Him more and I do want to work to get that back. I remember my morning coffee and Bible reading and how that set the tone for my day. I remember the fellowship I felt when I belonged to a church and I miss that.

In many ways, my relationship with God is better than it was back then and in others it's not. I think the best place to start may be what I was shown in the week leading up to Christmas. Be still, close your eyes, just wait on the Lord's fog horn and follow that sound.

Faith and Worry, Worry and Faith

The last few days have not been good. I've allowed myself to be pulled in to someone else's issue. It's hard - I love my daughter, my family, my friends, my fiance - and it took me a long time to learn that people sometimes have to go through their own stuff.

When finally, after a long, ugly path, I allowed myself to surrender to the love of God, I would often think about how hard it must be for Him to watch us and not intervene. I know He could. And sometimes we wonder why He doesn't. It's hard to be a parent, I think of what God must experience as He watches us flounder around and make the same stupid mistakes over and over again. I imagine that He spent a lot of time doing a "face-palm" when it came to me. And I'm sure He still does from time to time. But I'm starting to learn that I don't have to know the outcome of everything and I don't need to manipulate and orchestrate events. I also don't need to get involved in other people's stuff. Yet, I still sometimes do.

Watching someone you care about struggle to make sense of what the right things to do or say are is painful. The struggle is real, y'all! They say that we often lost patience with people when their floundering about reminds us of our own. This is certainly true in this situation. I remember many years ago, when I was in a relationship that was not good for me, I would talk to my friends about what I should do. Every single one of them said, "You know what you need to do, you need to end this relationship." But I wasn't ready. What I wanted them to tell me was one more thing that I hadn't tried yet. A dear friend would say to me, "Life is too short to spend it wanting to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you." I would think to myself, "What is he talking about?" I laugh about it now - but I had no idea how those words applied to my situation at all! Another friend would say, "I guess you just haven't had enough yet." I must have been an extremely frustrating person to be around.

So, I pray for patience and discernment. I pray for their heart and their peace. And most of all, I pray that whatever the outcome of this situation, that it will lead them closer to the God who loves them unconditionally. I am a very poor substitute for the unconditional love and grace of God.

Ridiculous Curiosity

It's been awhile since I wrote a blog post. It's certainly an easier forum for sharing my opinions than commenting on Facebook but for some reason I enjoy the back and forth there. And I have to admit that for the last couple of years my desire to comment on current events has been largely about politics or things that I don't necessarily think relate to the spirit of My Beach House. Soooo, we come somewhat full circle back to a desire to comment on other interests of mine: the spiritual, books, creativity, art, clean eating, motherhood, and more. Just not politics! And so, if you're in fear that I am indeed as one-dimensional as you have suspected, I promise no politics.

Really.
Pinky-swear.

There really are a lot of things to explore. Because I do have a ridiculous curiosity for things. Lots of things. They don't even connect sometimes. The state of education means a lot to me. But so does music. And that I am drawn to older music lately through Spotify and Pandora channels that I've discovered. How I try to stagger my reading: fiction, non-fiction, fiction, etc. Or that for the last six months, other than a movie here and there, my television viewing has been exclusively Gilmore Girl reruns and sports. Go figure.

I think I have some things to say. It's okay if very few people are interested. Writing is sort of like navel-gazing. It's a drawn out selfie in some ways - one wants to please their audience but realizes that authenticity has its own magnetism.

Flight 93 Memorial

Quite by accident we ended up at the Flight 93 Memorial on Saturday of this Labor Day weekend. For various reasons, we had not taken a ride on the motorcycle since the beginning of July and we were really looking forward to going on a long ride. The weather was not looking good but of the three days in the holiday weekend, Saturday held the most promise. And it appeared that heading northwest from Frederick, MD was the best bet.

I mentioned that I'd read The Johnstown Flood by David McCullough, and that I knew there was a Johnstown Flood National Park there that might be interesting to check out, so we headed west in that direction. Once we reached Rt. 219, we headed north towards Johnstown and that's when we saw a sign that said "Flight 93 Memorial Highway." We checked the map and saw that if we headed east on Rt. 30 it would take us to the Flight 93 Memorial.

As we entered the town of Shanksville, Pa we started seeing a lot of other motorcycles turning into the Flight 93 National Memorial - which is maintained by the National Park Service. The drive leading up to the park is a couple of miles long. As you survey the area it dawns on you just how far away from the road this place is. It's incredibly remote and must have been difficult for responders to even reach this place.

Coincidentally, all the other motorcycles were part of the "Brothers for Flight 93 Memorial Ride" that rode from Philadelphia to Shanksville that day. There must have been fifty other bikes. When you walk up to the entrance you are greeted by a sign that reminds visitors of the somber nature of the memorial and to act accordingly. And there are exhibits by the Visitors Shelter that tell the story of Flight 93.

Some distance away from the Visitors Shelter, on the other side of the parking lot was a cordoned off section called "1st Amendment Zone" where there was a lone gentleman with a table and signs that said, "9-11 Was an Inside Job." Presumably he had literature to pass out along those lines. I was glad that they had made a space for him away from the actual memorial.

After we walked around and read the signs, we walked up the beautiful granite walled Memorial Plaza. It was so quiet even with so many people there. Every few feet, there were little ledges cut into the black granite where people had left mementos and notes to honor those killed there. After the first few feet, I found myself reaching out for John's hand. And off to the left in the middle of the field was a mound of grass backed by a grove of hemlock trees. In the front of the mound were several small American flags. I was struck just by the simplicity of it. That was it. There at that mound was the center of the crash - where at 10:03 a.m. on September 11, 2001, a plane crashed at 563 m.p.h. killing all 44 people (including 4 hijackers) aboard. We stood there just looking out and holding hands. I noticed alot of people doing the same. There was a need to hold on to another life while taking all this in.

Crash site, pictures of the victims, mementos left at Memorial

At the end of the Memorial Plaza is a beautiful white marble wall. The wall is set up in the same direction as the flight path. Etched into the marble are the names of those 40 passengers that died that day. The brochure says that 13 cell phones made 37 calls in the moments after the plane was hijacked. I wonder how many of those calls were placed for those passengers that didn't have phones. During the 35 minutes between takeover and crash, these brave men and women made a decision that would take their lives and save countless others. At the end of the marble wall there are openings that give you a direct view of the mound in the field from the exact direction of the flight. It is chilling.

I immediately saw names of the three men that led the counter-attack.

As we walked back up the Memorial Plaza, we took a moment to look at some of the mementos left on the granite wall. One note, paperclipped to a small American flag, read, "You are all heroes. Thank you for your courage. You fought for all of us." And another person left a guitar pick. Before we got back on the bike to take the long winding path back to the main road, we took one last look back at that hill of dirt in the field. We didn't plan to go there, but I'm so glad we did. I think about the families that lost so much back then and I remember picking up my daughter from her 1st grade class that day. I didn't want her to hear about this from anyone but me. So young, so innocent, I wanted to hold her in my arms and keep her safe. Amazing, it seemed like only yesterday, but she started her senior year of high school just last week.

 As we turned back on to the main road, the skies opened and we rode home in the rain. We spent the next three hours soaked to the bone as we rode through the storms, but it just didn't seem appropriate to complain.

Mother's Day #17

Before my daughter put gas in her car today, I asked her to make note of how many miles were on the trip odometer. 262. In just over a week, the car has gone 262 miles. Couple that with perhaps another 250 miles that she has driven my car without me in it, and she's driven a little over 500 miles on her own. When she gets ready to leave where ever she has gone, she calls me and says she's on her way home. Each time that phone rings and I see her number, for a moment I panic that I might pick up the phone and hear her sobbing on the other end, "Mommy?"

In the last year, since she first got her learner's permit and then her full license, I have come to realize that the only way a mother survives the years of raising her children is to completely live in denial. Denial that every time you turn away someone might snatch them. Denial that every time they walk out the door, it might be the last time you see them. And we must be tough. Tough when they do something foolish and have to face the consequences. Tough when they are hurt and you can't let them see how terrified you are about that deep cut or that finger that is bent in an odd position.

Being a mother has required so much more of me than I initially thought. It's certainly not for cowards, although we come across our fair share of them. The ones who care more about being their child's friend than their parent. The ones who do science projects for them. The ones who refuse to believe that their child could do something wrong.

Recently, I saw the movie Soul Surfer about Bethany Hamilton, the teenaged surfer who lost her arm in a shark attack. When I came home I asked Maddie, "How could you say that's one of your favorite movies? That was terrible!" And I told her, "If I stopped to think about the things that could happen to you every time you walk out that door, you'd never go anywhere!" I was actually sobbing about watching this family go through this terrible event. And my sweet daughter hugged me and assured me that she wasn't going to be eaten by a shark. I suspect she was mocking me, but I was grateful for the hug.

On Sunday, I will enjoy my 17th Mother's Day. In spite of the dangers that lurk behind every single corner, I honestly wouldn't change one moment of it. Being a mom has been the most joyful and rewarding "job" I've ever had. Being a mom has made me a better person. And most importantly, I have spent 17 years being the mother of a fantastic and smart and funny and beautiful girl. I have been blessed by God beyond my wildest imagination.

Happy Easter

I have a soft spot for people who have had less than wonderful experiences with the Christian church. I've been involved in a couple of different churches that, in my humble opinion, were rigid and unforgiving in their orthodoxy or adherence to their own dogma. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not speaking of adherence to the Bible. I'm referring to their set of rules that are, how shall we say, "extra-biblical." In a meeting with the leaders of my last church, it was suggested that I had issues with "submission," to which I responded that I was not against submitting to Christ and the Word of God, but that I would not ever submit to authority which was not biblical. For this, and other defiances, my membership in that particular church was revoked. The letter spoke of the spirit of reconciliation which in their language translated to my confessing my sin and submitting to whatever punishment they would administer, which I suspect would have included some public admission of my divisive behavior. With that in mind, on Easter morning, I give you my favorite story from the Bible, that of the Apostle Thomas.


"On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” ²⁰ After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.

 ²¹ Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” ²² And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. ²³ If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”

 ²⁴ Now Thomas (also known as Didymus^[a]), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. ²⁵So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”

   But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

 ²⁶ A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” ²⁷ Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

 ²⁸ Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

 ²⁹ Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” ~ John 20:20-29

I have had dozens of opportunities to share this story with friends on their path to belief, or rededication of their belief. The religion of my childhood, which was followed by a long period of disinterest in religion, was one of few answers. Obedience to the Mass was understood; it just was. It seemed as if everyone involved in my Catholic upbringing didn't have answers to any of my questions. In fairness, however, I wasn't exactly thorough in my seeking. I sort of just drifted away. Over my early adult years, I had no interest in the church although I considered myself a believer. And finally, the thing that led me back to the Lord was becoming a parent - something I suspect is behind many people's return to their faith. 

This time, however, I began seeking in the Protestant community and learned through my first church to test the scriptures and take an active part in my spiritual growth rather than just sitting passively to one person's preaching. It was during this time that I heard the story of Thomas and he became my hero. All of my life and in conversations with others, one of the most confusing things was this idea that one does not question God. Yet, here at the end of John's Gospel, is a story not only of the questions and doubts of one of Jesus' disciples, but of a Savior who lovingly invites this disciple to test for himself that He has in fact returned in the flesh. Even writing this, I am overcome with emotion as I read (for the hundredth time) how Jesus tenderly approaches Thomas and says, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

And I can picture Thomas, so very, very ashamed, weeping as he simply says, "My Lord and my God." I imagine him clinging to Jesus as that moment and sobbing, "I am so sorry to have doubted." But Jesus isn't angry or upset. He probably hugs Thomas as he cries and says, "It's okay, it's okay." 

Oh, how I remember the moments as my belief became stronger and stronger. And how I was ashamed to have not only doubted but to have not even recognized the many obvious signs that my Lord and my God was right there, all along just waiting for me to pay Him the slightest attention. When I think back on the time that I was truly lost and alone, I imagine him just watching me stumble and wander. I think about my own child and how painful it would be to watch her make mistakes and hurtful choices knowing that I could not make her see that I was right there for her until she OPENED her eyes. It would have been like watching a blind person in a maze - wanting to reach out and help but knowing that they had to do this on their own. 

My message on this Easter morning to anyone who has any questions - God is big enough to handle any questions, any anger, any doubt you can possibly throw His way. And His arms are open for you to step in when you are ready. And He LIVES! When I turned to Him, I truly had no where else to go and I was so afraid. What if this was the last possibility and it did not work? I did not cross that line easily or willingly - but He has never held that against me. Not for a second. And this life is infinitely better than anything I had even dared to dream of.

Problems vs. Challenges

I've always admired those people who never see problems - only challenges. As I've thought and prayed about and mainly tried to ignore my word for the year, discipline, I've realized that I have an attitude problem. Stop laughing - I am generally the last to know when it comes to reading myself. I don't think I'm unique in this cycle of setting goals, dragging my feet, disappointing myself, then dragging my feet about starting the whole process over again.

As an example, I'll talk about my lack of discipline when it comes to exercise. A few years ago, I lost about 25 pounds and worked out diligently and got in probably the best shape I've been in since I got pregnant over 17 years ago. I felt great, I was energetic, and I looked forward to getting outside or to the gym. I was diligent and disciplined for about nine months, and then I went on vacation. My best friend and my daughter and I went to Florida in May and went out to dinner and enjoyed dessert every night. I had packed my walking shoes and planned to walk on the beach daily. I think I did it twice. When we returned home, I never got back into my workout routine and within two years I'd put all the weight back on and developed back and neck issues which only drained my desire to get moving.

I am not unique in this. It happens to many people. We find out how great we feel when we exercise and eat right, yet we find it so difficult to maintain that discipline. For me, I think a lot of the issue is self-talk. I'll go to bed thinking I'm going to get up early and walk or go to the gym, but when the alarm goes off my first thoughts are negative. If I can talk myself out of doing what's right, why can't I talk myself into it? In spite of choosing discipline as my word of the year, I've really not done much to embrace a more disciplined lifestyle. I can spend hours thinking about whether it makes more sense to go to the gym early and then come home and shower and dress for work or to take my clothes with me and shower there. There's the problem of having a lock and packing all the things you need. Or, if I come home after, will I get distracted by things that need to be done around here rather than get myself to the office. Sometimes it doesn't help to be the boss. It makes it too easy for a person without discipline to go in at 10:30!

Last night I set the alarm for 6:00 a.m. I lept out of bed around 7:00 and then drank coffee and checked the internet. Finally, I packed a bag and left the house. I decided to drop off everything I wouldn't need at the gym at the office first so that I wouldn't lose everything if someone broke into my car in the gym parking lot (which has happened to others). I waltzed into the gym at 9:20 and was showered and dressed for work by 10:30. Alright, so I need to improve on that, but I got it done! On the way home this evening, I asked my daughter if she wanted me to take her to school tomorrow. She has to be there by 7:15, so I've committed to getting to the gym a little earlier tomorrow.

It's only taken me two months from my resolution to actually get there. Next goal: Actually wanting to go!

Lists

I made some progress today in my quest to become more disciplined. First, I made two lists of things I want to accomplish: One entitled "Discipline" lists the things I want to be sure to do every day. The second is a "Home Projects List" which contains the things I'd like to accomplish around the beach house this year.

The teenager that lives here had a most pathetic weekend - having nothing else to do, she hung out with me yesterday. We went to the grocery store and then out for dinner. Today she graciously completed all the chores I gave her while we both rocked around the house listening to our separate ITunes! And that included doing the two chores I hate the most vacuuming and cleaning the bathroom. She helps me out alot.

I made a new recipe Slow Cooker Cuban Chicken - a recipe I got from a new magazine from Better Homes and Garden's "Skinny Slow Cooker"Magazine.

While this was cooking, I took a walk down past the beach to the marina. There was no one there, just the sound of the water against the few boats still in the water. On my list this morning, I listed 30 minutes of exercise. It was a nice walk and I took a few minutes to sit on the dock and just reflect.