I Love Mondays

Monday--When I was working, I hated Mondays. In fact the hating started on Sunday. Sunday morning wasn't too bad but by the time Sunday afternoon rolled around that feeling of dread was starting to invade my house, my head, my body. Well all of that's over now. Now I get to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Since I expect to have a long one (good Lord willing), I'd better get started.

This Monday morning started out in an unusual way for Huntersville, North Carolina in August. Pouring down rain. I love the rain, so I was happy. I'm so sick and tired of the sun and humidity I could throw up (I know, a bit harsh, huh?). Anyhow, I logged onto my computer and started looking through my email.

There in my email was a message from someone I'd known from work. She and her family were leaving Angola and moving back to California. I believe she had been living in Angola for 3 years. She was announcing her repatriation to all of her friends and did so with a musical slideshow from Smilebox.com. She had some pictures of her children and a beautiful Angolan sunset and the music was ColdPlay's Viva La Vida. Just beautiful...

So, you guessed it. I logged onto Smilebox and put together my own musical scrapbook of our weekend trip to Asheville. I sent the scrapbook to my son and daughter-in-law so that they could show it to our grandchildren.

The heck with the gym...I love Mondays and there's always tomorrow.

Not What I Was Expecting

We were up at the crack of dark this morning to drive to Asheville, North Carolina to attend the Goombay Festival. The Goombay Festival is a celebration of African & Caribbean Heritage and Asheville is a very artsy community of 78,000 people about 1.5 hours north of us.

I found out about the festival on the internet. We've wanted to visit Asheville since we moved to North Carolina and so decided to invite a couple of our friends and spend the day up north. Asheville was described to us as the Berkeley of North Carolina. Those of you who know Berkeley, California know that it is a very liberal city devoted to the arts, education and protests of all kinds! I love Berkeley so I thought I'd probabaly love Asheville. It was voted the #1 place to live on relocate.com's 2007 list of the top 100 places to live in 2007.

The festival was much smaller than I'd expected and after attending festivals in New York and San Francisco perhaps my expectations were too high. I was expecting some awesome crafts but didn't see anything I don't already have too much of in my house already. I was not impressed, but I absolutely loved Asheville.

There were loads of art galleries and great boutiques. Fancy restaurants and plain ones and an old F.W. Woolworth that had been converted to a who's who of art vendors except for the soda fountain, which had been kept intact. I got a Vanilla Egg Cream in the memory of the many I had imbibed during my youth in New York. Ted tried to get a hot dog for 15 cents (as a sign advertised) but when that didn't work, he went ahead and paid $1.50 for it. There were beautiful art deco buildings and old buildings with gargoyles standing at the ready. There was, of course, the Biltmore estate that resembled the Hearst Castle in Southern California and as far as the eye could see, were the beautiful Blue Ridge mountains. What a beautiful place.

The best part of the day, though took place in this little park in the middle of downtown. When we arrived in the early morning, there was a pro-healthcare meeting going on. Nothing like the crazy yelling matches that have been going on in various places around the US. We hung around for that and took some pictures. When that meeting finished, the marching band for the Goombay Festival started assembling in the park. The parade consisted of one man and woman on stilts, 4 drummers, a marching band from a Winston Salem high school and 3 cars. That was it. We watched that progression until it was gone. Next, a group of people set up chess games in the park and we watched as some serious games of chess got started. Next, a band started setting up for live music. When I looked, I noticed that all of the band members were children (except for the drummer who was an adult). There were 5 boys and 1 girl and I was thinking to myself ("guess it's about time to go home"). When they started playing, I could not believe it. The young boy who was singing vocals was a little shy and quiet on the mike but his voice was beautiful. When they started playing the opening chords for Santana's Black Magic Woman, the crowd roared. They did a fabulous job. They couldn't have been more than 12-13 years old, if that. Santana could be their grandfather!People were clapping and swaying. It was a joy to watch.

We would have stayed for a few more numbers, but the cigarette smoke was getting to be too much for us, so we decided to head out. What a wonderful day. We spent a great day in a new place with friends we enjoy being with. We came for one thing and found so much more. Isn't that what serendipity is?

Helping The Little Guy

I spent all of yesterday running around trying to match the granite in my kitchen for a couple of projects I'm planning.

I want a desk built into the kitchen and some cubbie holes built into this ridiculous hunk of wall that separates my kitchen from my family room. This wall is so annoying. It's a low wall so that you can see into each room from the other, but the counter is a catch all for all of Ted's electronics and the actual wall is just a huge piece of plaster in the middle of the room--no purpose whatsever. So I came up with an idea of building cubbie holes into the side of the wall that faces the kitchen to hold cook books, pottery, etc. I want to add granite to the top of the counter to match what's already in the kitchen. Maybe if it looks pretty, I can keep it clear of Ted's "stuff".

I hired a carpenter who could do the work and he proceeded to order the desk that would match my cabinets from the cabinet maker. When he came back with the price for the desk I almost fainted. $1700!!! Plus $400 if we wanted the cabinet makers to install the desk. I was flabbergasted. I had looked the cabinets up on the internet and this cabinet store (a small mom and pop store in a neighboring town) was the only distributor that I found. I asked the carpenter if he had any other ideas. He thought of building the desk himself and getting the cabinet fronts from the cabinet store so that from the outside all would match. This should cost me less money. When he took this idea back to the cabinet store, the owner was not too enthused.

In desperation, I went back to the internet and lo and behold, I must have missed it the first time but I found that Loew's carried my cabinets. I went to Loew's, told them what I needed and the cabinet specialist entered a few bits of information into the computer and out came a drawing of the desk and a price. The price was $890. Again, I was flabbergasted. Of course, I ordered the desk from Loews.

I've talked to a few cabinet store owners since and from what I can understand, this particular store is way out of line. A 20% markup is understandable but 50%?

I'm always torn between doing business with the small stores versus the big box stores. For a time I would not do business with WalMart because I thought they put small stores out of business. Living on a fixed income and a deep recession has changed my ways as I need the best price I can get, but I still feel badly when I see small enterprises go out of business. Had this cabinet store owner's price been under $1000, he would have had my business but an exorbitant price made me go looking for other options.

Is it greed or is he just compensating for slow sales by marking up what he does sell? No matter, at the end of the day, I felt good that I'd done my homework and saved some money for another project.

Where Did My Day Go?

I had to write tonight so I'm here, but just barely. I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life.

I went to the gym this morning and did 30 minutes on the treadmill and 1 hr with the Hydro tone equipment. That's right, I am totally hooked on this mode of water fitness.

Raced home, took a shower, washed my hair and got ready to go to get my hair done. I really never look forward to getting my hair done because it always takes so long. I have sisterlocks (which are very small dred locs) and my daughter usually grooms them for me. Grooming is the process of weaving the new growth into the existing loc. I must be really spoiled because Rashida is very quick and it never takes her more than 4 hours to complete my hair.

Since I moved to Charlotte, I had to find a new loctician. She's a wonderful person and does great work but she's about the slowest loctician I have ever met. Today I got to her home at 1:15 pm and left at 8:30 pm. I could not believe it. What would take Rashida 4 hours max took Ms. C. 8 hours. So, 8 hours of my time and $185 later, I stumbled out of her house and headed home.

I am contemplating flying to New York every couple of months and having Rashida do my hair. She charges me the "mommy rate" (free) and the airfare would be less than I spend with Ms. C. In addition, we could have some bonding time.

Being retired makes me value my time and my limited money so much more.

Stumbling off to bed now - More tomorrow.

Face The Fear And Do It Anyway

I came face to face with my fear today. I enjoyed the Hydro Tone water fitness class so much yesterday, I decided to attend another one tonight.


When I entered the gym and walked past the "baby" pool to the locker room I thought something was strange. There was not one person in the pool. I looked at my watch and noticed that it was a couple of minutes before 6:00 pm. "Oh well", I thought. "Maybe everyone's running late". I proceeded to the locker room, changed into my suit and made my way to the pool. As I entered, the lifeguard said "Pool's closed tonight. Someone threw up in it and we have to clean it". Believe me, that was really ok with me.


I went back to the locker room and got dressed in my street clothes to go home, a bit disappointed. Just then a woman comes rushing in and starts changing into her swimsuit. I asked her if she was taking the swimming class. "Yes, I am", she said. "They're having it in the big pool since they're cleaning the little pool". The big pool would be the 50M pool. The one with 1 million gallons of water in it. The pool where swim meets and scuba lessons were held. My heart sank. I have never been in the big pool. I'm really not a swimmer. I used to laugh at myself and say that I could drown in a wading pool.


I used to know how to swim but something happened when I was a teenager. I jumped into what I thought was a shallow end of a pool that turned out to be the deep end. I sucked up what seemed like buckets of water as I catapulted to the bottom. As I remember it, I had to go to the hospital to have my stomach pumped. I was sick and frightened and have never been comfortable around water since.


Fast forward to today. Here I am, 62 years old and really scared of going into the big pool. I said to myself, "Self, you need to be a big girl. You can do this". So I changed and joined the rest of my class in the big pool.


As I walked into the pool, the instructor must have seen the fear in my eyes. "Will you be all right?", he asked. "I don't swim", I said. "Well, we have these belts that you strap on and they will make you float in the water". I looked unsure. "It's entirely up to you", he said. All kinds of thoughts went though my head but the loudest was: "I'm really not going to walk away from this challenge".


I asked him where the shallow end was. "It's all deep water he said". "Oh, oh", I thought to myself. As he helped me strap my belt on first followed by my transformer boots, I just kept talking to myself. "You can do this". "Just breathe".


As I descended into the water and realized that my feet were nowhere near touching the bottom, the fear started to rise in my throat. I held onto the bells and started making circles in the water and kicking my feet. As I inhaled and exhaled slowly, I started to calm down. Maybe I could do this.


Many of the exercises were too scary for me to do because my face kept coming too close to the water. When the fear started moving in, I just went back to my breathing and making circles with the bells. Worked like a charm. This was about baby steps for me.


Many of the exercises weren't as effective in the big pool because you really needed your feet on the bottom to help achieve more drag on your legs. No one was especially happy with the level of the exercise, but we were all being good sports about it. I know at least one of us was fighting unknown demons in the process.



At the end of the class I tadpoled over to the stairs and hung on as I removed my boots and the buoyancy belt. I climbed up the ladder and onto the deck of the pool. I felt really good. I was glad that the class was over and I was glad that I had managed to rise above my fear.


I'm working on the next 25 things to do when I retire: Learn to swim

If Two Days Are Good, Four Days Must Be Better.

I went to the gym twice today. Once this morning and then again in the evening. It just occurred to me that it might be impossible for me to get on top of this weight gain thing unless I pump up the volume a bit.

I mean, let's face it. Even though I worked a desk job, I can't tell you how many times I would get up to go to the printer, make a copy, visit someone's office, etc. Well, a lot of that movement is not happening now. Even though this is a big house, and I do have bursts of activity (like when I prune the shrubs and trees), that activity is far from consistent. There are some days that I work on my scrapbooks, read a book, watch TV. You get the picture. None of these activities use very much energy. I do, however, still eat my 3 squares plus snacks. So the input is the same but the output has been reduced drastically. You know what that means.

This morning I decided that I would increase the amount of time I spend in the gym. Why not? We spend $79 a month for our membership. There are classes around the clock. So why should I just go twice a week? I should go to the gym at least 4 times a week.

While looking over the schedule, I found that there was a 6:00 pm Hydro Tone class being held in the 25-yard pool. I decided I'd go. I'd taken a water fitness class using this equipment last week and it was an excellent workout. Actually I only used the hand weights (called bells) last week so I decided I'd take the plunge and use the boots as well as the bells for this class.

I walked into the gym and the first thing I noticed was that it was packed. Not at all like it is in the morning. Must be most of the working folk. Anyhow, I joined the class in the pool and started the process of getting geared up.

The bells are easy--you just hold them in your hands and as you perform exercises in the water, resistance is increased as the water pours through the holes in the bells. The boots were a different story. Just getting the boots on took a major effort. They have 3 velcro straps and once you have them sufficiently tightened, you feel like a monster. The boots cause extra drag when you're walking in the pool and the combination of the bells and the boots make you feel like you're walking through quicksand. It's hard enough to do exercises like bicep curls but when you attempt to do jumping jacks with these contraptions, the intensity level is amazing. If you add to the drag on your legs, the need to keep the boots from hooking onto one another and the fact that you need to do a minimum of 30 jumping jacks in 1 minute, you can see what level of exercise this is. At least twice, I fell face forward into the water because my boots hooked onto one another. Embarrassing to say the least.

The class lasted one hour and I will admit that I was watching the clock. When we started the cool down I was one happy camper. I took the boots off and put the bells up. As I climbed out of the pool, I realized that my legs felt so tired I could hardly lift them. I knew that I would have to take a Epsom salt soak tonight. As I was toweling off in the locker room I looked at my arms. Hey, is that more definition I see there?

Watch out Michelle...

Friday Night in Small Town USA

What does one do on a Friday night in a small town?

Not like I'm used to doing much on Friday night anyhow. Our big date on Friday night in Walnut Creek was Barnes and Nobles where Ted and I browsed the magazines and books, then met up in the cafe for a latte or tea while we reviewed our treasures. Sometimes we got out of the store spending no more than the price of our coffee--other times it could be a $50 or $60 night. Believe me, Barnes and Nobles is not losing any money on us.

Anyhow, my water fitness teacher performs in a band and she notified us by email that they would be playing in Birkdale (a retail/residental community not far from us) on Friday evening. We decided that it would be a nice evening out so we went.

Birkdale Village is a great place. It's one of the reasons we landed in Huntersville. Just before we started looking for homes, someone told us about Birkdale. It sounded just like the downtown shopping area on North Main Street in Walnut Creek, except that in addition to shopping, Birkdale has apartments over the stores. We visited Birkdale and fell in love with it. It had Barnes and Nobles (yahoo!!), Starbucks, Ann Taylor Loft, Gap, Pier 1, Aveda, Chico's, various small boutiques and restaurants and a huge movie complex. In addition, it has an enclosed area with benches and water fountains that kids can run through. Birkdale gets a lot of foot traffic, both day and night and they have free concerts on Friday nights in the summer. Anyhow, we found Birkdale before we realized that we wanted to live in Huntersville. We just kept coming back to Birkdale at the end of our day. We'd go to Starbucks for coffee or to Barnes and Nobles to browse the books. It made sense that we'd settle in Huntersville, very close to Birkdale village.

Anyhow, on this Friday night, we decided to go hear Cindy's band. What a great evening it was. The streets were packed with people, families complete with kids and dogs, couples, singles, old and young. It was a balmy evening, probably in the 80's. The stars were out and there was a gentle breeze. The delicious smells from the restaurants floated by and if you'd made the mistake of not eating before you came out, you were hooked. You'd have to grab a bite to eat. Kids frolicked through the fountain while their parents watched. Car enthusiasts displayed their beautiful classic cars for all to see.

The band was great. They are a family friendly band and play gospel, R&B, pop, country. The vocals were good and the music had folks up and dancing in the street. We found a bench and listened to the tunes while watching people stroll by. As we sat, watched and listened, I found myself relaxing more and more. It was really nice to be out with nothing to do but sit and nowhere to be but here.

At intermission, we went into Starbucks to get an iced frappicino. Ted bought a trivia card game about Africa. We took our seats on the bench and started working our way through the trivia game. The deck said that it was for ages 8+ but I doubt that any 8 year old (or 9, 10, or 11 year old, for that matter) would know the answers to some of those questions. We did know some answers, though. I knew that Ja and Nee mean "yes" and "no" in Afrikaans. I did not know that Shukran means "thank you" in Arabic.

We stayed for a couple more songs after intermission, then decided to make our way back to the car. It was a little after 9 pm. We thought about stopping at Barnes and Nobles but thought better of it. I was tired.

What a nice way to spend a Friday evening.