Life Unplugged

Let me first say that this isn't a political post. Rather, it's an observation on how inane the so-called "news" media is and how numb we have become to its insidious hum. It's a little like white noise, after a while, you hear it not at all. For instance, this past week all the liberal media had to report on was presidential hopeful Herman Cain's alleged sexual misdeeds, Governor Perry's brain freeze and, basically, how stupid conservatives are in general. All the conservative media led with was the same tired Republican race between the same tired faces and how far Obama's approval rating fell this week. Is this really the most important events of our time?

Little to no coverage was given on the Turkey earthquakes, the biggest storm to hit Alaska in 40 years, or the civil unrest in America, Europe, and the Middle East. Then there is the European financial crisis that is literally imploding from within and will ultimately affect everyone in this country for decades to come, not just Europeans. And much, much more real news that was either never aired or given only a cursory mention.

Iran has been rattling is saber at Israel and the West in general but it seems that Israel's danger threshold has been breached. On the heels of this rock throwing over the fence was Russia's thinly veiled warning to the United States that it will come to the defense of Iran. And China, that sleeping fat-cat dragon, is, no thank you, going to break its piggy bank to bail the European's out of their sinking ship.

I went without television for about eight months after my work hours were cut due to our lousy economy. I've been replugged for about 60 days now and never more sorrier that I am. Is anyone else awake out there? When did we get so dumb as a nation that we lead news programs with Beyonce's "baby bump" and who got kicked off of  "Dancing with the Stars" this week?

For God's sake America, turn off the television. Do your own homework on the news of the day and please, please pick up a book written by someone with a fine mind. Read history, classical philosophers, anyone and everyone who can enlighten you and make you think. Better still, how about picking up the Bible, the greatest treasure trove of history, wisdom, and prose ever given to mankind. Don't believe that everything you hear is true because it is on television or, for that matter, even important.


Someone, somewhere, thought you needed to hear the important news of the day and it was the breakup of Kim Kardashian's 72-day marriage, the defeat of Chaz Bono on a dancing program, and what Michelle Obama was wearing. Really? Where are the reports on the famine in Africa, the frequency and severity of earthquakes and natural disasters, and the fallout of Fukushima? Not to mention the Dr. Evil genome projects our own government is sanctioning, the genetic altering of our food, creating sustainable jobs, our financial system, and the corruption of our political system.

I for one am sick to death that potty-mouthed ex-Playboy bunnies are rewarded for their debauchery by being given their own television programs. Why on earth does someone think I need to be entertained by Kendra or worse, admire her? And what of the number of paranormal shows now airing? Whew-whee! I won't even touch that one on this small post. Suffice it to say there is a vacuum in America and Hollywood is filling the void.

All I can say is: you have been robbed America. While you were sleeping someone came in and stripped your character and worth, rewrote your history, stole your banking system, and handed your freedom over to the federal government. But they left you some rose-colored glasses on the bedside table so you wouldn't notice that you and your children have, all the while, become indentured servants to the state. No, you were too focused on buying a wii for Christmas and watching Hef and "The Girls Next Door."

But there is hope. During my hiatus from television, I discovered that there is a remnant of people "out there" who have not been sucked into the mind numbing inanity of it all. And I must say that they carry the same mystique and awe for me as the frontiersman and cowboys once did for my grandparent's generation.

I, for one, would be lost without my new "network" of independent thinkers, independent news bloggers, scientists, and overall survivalist. Even more heartening to me, is I learned that there is a resurgence of young people learning to live off of the grid. They are thinking for themselves and they are absolutely determined not to be caught unawares when their country disappoints, as surely it must do. They are making and preserving their own food, using biofuels, sewing again, and living as independent and unplugged as they can. They have learned to measure their success by a different yardstick than my generation did. They figured out that advertising is a lie, as is the lie of materialistic wealth, and they are not only learning that healthy, antibiotic-free steaks come from cows, not feedlots, but that confidence in their degrees for security is a slippery slope.

The really, really smart ones are skipping a college education altogether, even though their own government and culture has told them they must go into debt if they ever hope to succeed. No, what these young people are doing is working. Working very hard at mastering trades, skills, and crafts that actually can sustain them when the money tree is no longer blooming. Instead of buying into the ideal of the McMansion they can't actually afford, they are opting for an attainable lifestyle that is spiritually rich. These young people realize that there are no jobs and they are not coming back. Ever.

They are learning to raise their own livestock and nurture the soil as Mother Nature intended. They are learning to re-purpose materialistic goods and re-educate their own children. They are learning the joys of family instead of entertainment, fashion, or fast cars. Most important, they are learning that their stay here on this planet is a short but important one. You really can't take any of it where you are going and you have a small, allotted time to make an impact.

It always takes courage to swim upstream when others are going downstream, but no goal is more worthy than living life as a free, independent woman or man. Yes, they are working hard, but at the end of the journey, these intrepid young people are gaining valuable survival and life skills that cannot be found in an office cube.

Unfortunately, the same news media that literally tranquilizes us with pop culture news will also tell you that these young people fighting for home schooling and the independent thinkers, authors, bloggers, and artisans, are all escapists or conservative, right-wing, fringe wackos. When did the noble goal of being independent and wary of who you keep company with and staying out of debt become such rich fodder for ridicule?

I may not always agree with others on how life is to be lived or even on what the purpose of life is, but I am a big proponent of choice. After all, this is what America was suppose to be. Once upon a time.

You've Come a Long Way, Baby

I stumbled across a celebratory tribute article, "How Do You Spell Ms." on the longevity and legacy of Ms. Magazine yesterday while surfing the net. New York Magazine headlined the article with a prominently displayed circa 1970s snapshot of a slim and somewhat stern and young Gloria Steinem. Hip seventies attire. Plenty of big hair.  

Immediately my fingers twitched with desire to publish my own commentary on this “commemorative” occasion. A myriad of emotions ran through my mind as I perused the article and my palms begin to sweat. Reflecting on Ms. Magazine is a bit like thinking back to that creepy, overbearing guy you let kiss you even though you would rather not just because you didn’t have the experience to handle the moment. It washes you in a nasty memory of anger and angst.  

This is how I feel about Ms. Magazine. It brings a twinge of self-loathing. As such, I am particularly irritated by the “follow-up” article written by the young Emily Nussbaum, whose subtitle, “Come for Lady Gaga, stay for the Enlightenment,” instantly marks her as an outsider while shamelessly showing her longing for the return of fervent feminism. Obviously, Nussbaum wasn’t there. But Lady Gaga? Gaga isn’t about or for women, she is a poster child of a lost, narcissist generation. Steinem, love or hate her, had a singular message.

The legacy Steinem left me and countless others my age was a confusing and thankless place through most of my twenties and thirties, so I have earned the right to have my voice heard on the feminist movement. Although my voice may not be young like Nussbaum, it might sound fresh to your ears because it isn’t often told in the media.

As I have shared in my previous posts, I wasn’t really a part of the baby boom generation. I was a one year old in diapers when Kennedy was shot and watching “The Partridge Family” before bedtime when the hippie movement and Woodstock were happening. And when the photos featured in New York Magazine of Steinem and company’s staff meeting were snapped, I was just an innocent 10-year-old girl at a time when girls of 10 were actually children.

Yet, it was my prepubescent generation that ultimately fell to the pied pipe of Gloria Steinem and the feminist movement. We were young with minds as blank as any slate, empty vessels waiting to fulfill our futures. Gloria, herself a young girl of 29, wanted to change the world, and I do admire her very much for this. She was an articulate, smart, sexy, and determined woman. Who wouldn’t admire that? She believed in her ideas and was not afraid of the ridicule that often accompanied them. But I wonder, did she have any inclination of where her ideas, as a young 29-year-old girl, were leading a generation of up and coming women?

Before I even begin to lament on just some of the damage caused by the feminist movement, I have to say what was so right about it. Like the civil rights movement, it shed light into a dark era of discrimination in our nation. As such, accolades to Gloria, and for all of the other women who came before me who fought for my right to vote, own property, and hold a job outside of the home. Thank you that we could enjoy work environments free of sexual harassment and for the right to equal pay for equal work. It's just about everything else you did to muck up the roles of women, men, and the importance of family and place that I disagree with.

As a young girl, I remember that in my small suburban neighborhood of modest homes all of the women stayed home. It was a magical place to grow up as a child. You knew when you got off of the school bus your mother would be waiting. After a quick snack and a change of clothes, you rushed outside to mingle and play with a virtual throng of neighborhood children. After dinner, entire families migrated to the front stoops to watch their children play until dark. It lent a strange sense of security to play ball or catch fireflies knowing your mother was all the while keeping an eye on you.

Today, the streets of most suburban neighborhoods are empty. Children now spend their formative years in controlled, after-care school programs or in complete isolation. When mother does arrive, she is frazzled, cranky, distracted, and just plain tired. I know I was. You see, after my mother was divorced and left to fend for herself, as many other married women in the seventies were, the cadence of our life changed suddenly and dramatically and our personal security was ripped asunder.  

We no longer had the luxury as young girls to dream of our futures in suburban sound bites or play free in the streets. Life became economically hard, as did many of our mothers, who suddenly found themselves thrust into a work world that neither wanted them nor paid them very well.

Upon graduation from high school, I did what any girl who believed in the mantra of Gloria Steinem and company did, I went to work. The more well-heeled of my generation went to college, but if you were the product of a single parent household, you went to work. There was hyperinflation, gas lines, and very, very rigid work ethos for women in the workforce. You were excited to be there, even if you did have to wear business “suits.” Black, low-heeled pumps were a part of the uniform of the day and you never, ever let them see you cry.

If your child was sick and you got that dreaded call, you were, quite literally, at peril of being fired. Leave early to attend a school party with your child? Never! You were in a man’s world and expected to act very much like one. And it was hard. It was hard leaving your child crying at the door as you left with your briefcase in one hand and your lunch in the other. It was hard trying to run a household, raise latch-key children, and keep up your appearances and your relationships. Your employer sucked the most productive hours out of your day and night. All the while, the drum beat of modern culture urged you to be more, do more, and succeed.  Above all, have it all!

What we succeeded in as we finally reached our forties, tired and resentful, was the realization that we had been duped. You can’t have it all, and our own broken families and emotionally messed up children attested loud and clear to a flawed idealogy. Then there was the most painful of all consequences. Instead of our daughters actually admiring us for all that we had managed to accomplish, they resented us. They resented that we were not there when they got off the school bus, baking cookies and soothing their hair back behind their ears. They resented having a mother who wasn’t “present” emotionally or who didn’t have the time to just “be.” Honestly, this hurts the most. Because work we did and we worked hard!

I personally think that the young mothers today who are making untold sacrifices to actually stay at home with their children are the women we should be admiring and encouraging, not Lady Gaga. These young women seen first-hand what their own mother’s experienced and the effect absent parents had on their own childhoods. They have made deliberate, proactive decisions to opt out of the game. 

I must admit that when this first began to occur, I would wring my hands and shake my head when they would whine about how hard it was to be a mother. In derision, I would think, "Honey, you have no idea!" I couldn't  imagine the “luxury” of having all day to home make and care for my family as they did because it was never an option while raising my own children. Being a working mother with a management-level position, now that was hard!

Eventually, the lightbulb came on for me and I began to empathize with them and understand why it it was so hard for them. They are paying a high price for their very deliberate and honorable goal of being “just” a mother and opting out of the workforce. They are isolated and face sometimes unbearable economic hardship. Worse, many do not receive appreciation or acknowledgment from their peers and, predictably, the modern day Gloria Steinem’s of our time have nothing good to say about it.

We have come a long way, baby. We have given young women the right to choose their own destiny. And I, for one, can thank Gloria and company for that. However, now we just need to empower them to feel good about it.

Running Hot & Cold

On Saturday I purchased the seagrass rug I found on craigslist. Funny thing is, it is more rope than seagrass, but I am loving it. The texture is amazing.

The new rug goes a long way in helping me tie together the rustic Pottery Barn look I am hoping to achieve with some modern elements thrown in. I am still on a quest to find just the right artwork, however, the fun of pulling it together on a very tight budget is that each find becomes a treasure. I must say that making something out of nothing has been my life's work! 

When visiting my niece last week, I got the idea to bring nature indoors as she did. I think the red leaves are gorgeous in this turquoise vase and go with my rust and blue theme. Thank you, Ailis!

We had a beautiful time visiting Virginia and West Virginia last week and it is a good thing we went when we did. They got something like three inches of snow on Saturday and this Southern girl has not driven in snow in many years!

What a difference a week can make. It was chilly when we visited Friday and Saturday but so warm on Sunday before we left we had to change back into short-sleeved shirts. Mother nature is certainly being fickle, or maybe she is just going through the change like this middle-aged blogger.

Believing in the Desert

I am in this place where the horizon is just plain empty and I find I have to trust God each day to fill my hope tank. I have experienced first hand the scripture, “Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he.” (Prov. 29:18)

As mere mortals, we literally cannot survive without hope. Hope that God cares about us, has a plan for us, and hears our voice in times of distress, anxiety, and pain. It is in times such as these, when God is silent and we have a ceiling full of unanswered prayers, that we learn to trust in God’s providence. I know I am. Knowing and trusting in a providential God means that I haven’t missed the boat, I haven’t screwed up to the point of no return, and that there is a purpose for my life. He may be silent, but He is there and listening to my every word.

I don’t know about you, but whenever I heard the word “providence,” it was just a fuzzy Christian word that contained no personal meaning. However, I have come to understand this past year what God’s providence truly means to a believer. And this knowledge of God's providence gives me a deep peace and assurance that all is well in spite of my feelings. I am beginning to see what my natural, unregenerated spiritual eyes cannot. It means that on those days when my hope is lost and I can barely get out of bed to face another day of disappointment or drudgery, my God is still in charge and still on His throne. Foremost, it means that how this all turns out isn’t really all up to me. "Those who hope in me will not be disappointed.” (Isa. 49:23)

What a relief to know that God doesn’t need me to accomplish His purposes. “But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of His heart through all generations.” (Psalm 33:11) There is someone in authority over me who has control of the reigns. In an age where independence and personal accomplishment is lauded, this may not be welcome news for everyone. As a Type A personality myself, I have pushed open many a locked door, determined to make my own way in my own strength. Trust me, it didn’t end well. However, if God says his purpose stands forever and His word tells me He has a plan for me, I can let go and just rest.

God wants us to go His way, not because He is some power-mongering, controlling God, but because His ways are superior to those of mere man. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord.” (Isa. 55:8) Going our own way always ends up at a dead end. “There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death.” (Prov. 14:12)

We have an enemy who we are not equipped to fight in our own strength, in our own, “flesh and blood.” This enemy wants to kill, steal, and destroy us. “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” (Eph. 6:12)

There is a secret to successfully surviving this life and it is not depending upon our own strength, abilities, talents, financial status, education, or might. God will light our path in this life ahead of us and protect us from our enemy behind when we surrender to Him and acknowledge that He alone is the master of our life. “Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.” (Isa. 58:8) I don’t know about you, but the knowledge of knowing that God “has my back,” gives me great assurance.

Are you in a place of hopelessness today? Let me assure you that you have not placed your trust and hope in a small God. Tell Him you don't know the answers. You don't know the way out. Just surrender to His providential will and rest in the shadow of His wings.  If you are relying on your own strength, how is that working for you? Deep down you know you don't have all of the answers and that your are just playing a role in a play called life. Stop perpetuating the lie and memorizing your lines. Trust in Him alone. Trust in the one who created you and knows the number of hairs on your head. You won't ever want to hold the reigns again. In fact, God will set you free!

The Bachelor

I may be turning into the stereotypical bachelor without the ugly bachelor pad. You know, he doesn't cook, decorate, or wash. BTW ladies, "The Bachelor" isn't real. For the second time in the last few months, I have ladies from my Bible study bringing me meals. I know they are just trying to impress me with their culinary skills so I will marry them.

Tonight it is homemade stuffed green peppers with dessert. I didn't even ask what the dessert was. I was just too grateful. You don't cook much when the nest is empty because it is just too much work, so yeah, I appreciate them. I didn't have the heart to tell Miss Doris that I already ate dinner tonight--cold cereal with almond milk but heck yeah I am going to eat a good lunch tomorrow!

Speaking of ugly bachelor pads, I am still on a quest for finding the perfect rug for my living room. I purchased one that was just a bit off in color and so I am going to give it to mom. I found an 8 x 10 seagrass rug on craigslist today. It is still available (whoo hoo!) and only $30.  I have been playing phone tag all day with the owner but hope to get it this weekend barring any ungodly stains or wear.

The great thing about decorating your entire home in second-hand finds is that it is cheap to edit and experiment. If it doesn't work out, you move on with just a small eye twitch. I really believe that over time I am slowly creating a home filled with things I really love and that make me happy. And this attic nook makes me very, very happy:

If this wood was dark it would drive me insane and make me feel like I was a victim in Flowers in the Attic. This room, however, soothes my senses. I like the wide, light "planks" and cozy nested feeling. I would so want to come home to this haven after a hard day of fighting the wolves in the wild or, you know, work.

Until then, this "bachelor" sure appreciates the ladies!

Thanks for the Memories

I know it is corny, but I was humming John Denver's "Country Roads" as I packed the night before I left on a road trip to see my brother and his family in Virginia. For years, they lived in a little town called High View, West Virginia and, although they no longer live there, it is where my fondest adult memories are.

When my mother purchased property a few miles away, it became my dream to live there, too. My brother and his wife had 12 or more acres smack-dab in God's country right off of this road:

 

Heck, who wouldn't want to live here? Unless, of course, you are a city slicker. 

I had big dreams of being a stay-at-home mother, baking cookies, fighting off bears and coyotes, and growing my own vegetables. I fondly remember the kids and the then-hubby packing into my little Mitsubishi hatchback and trekking up the mountains to spend the day with the family. 

My brother was raising chickens and, for a girl who grew up in the suburbs, I thought they were just the most amazing creatures God ever made. When we would finally leave at dusk, the glens would be filled with herds of deer. Again, a sight this suburbanite had never seen. It was all just so magical. It not only became my fondest memories, but my children's favorite family times as well, which only goes to show you that Xbox and Barbie cannot compete with Mother Nature. 

Here is a picture of the entrance to "their" road at Powder Mill:

About five miles from my brother's homestead is beautiful Capon Bridge.  I'm sure this place holds more memories for him than I. He would take his son and my nephew fishing on the "crick." It was cold and overcast the day we visited, but nothing could diminish its beauty. I just love this lonely house by the river.

As we winded up, down, and around the country roads, my daughter and I oohed and aahed over the little homesteads nestled in a hill there or a glen there. It was chilly enough to see smoke curling from the chimneys and the decay of this old abandoned place caught my eye. This picture just doesn't do justice to the loneliness this place exuded.

The next day was a field trip with my brother, Jerry, and his wife Jane. She made me pecan coffee and we piled into the rental vehicle and drove through Leesburg, Va. to Chantilly, Va. Leesburg is nothing but old-money horse and wine country.The rolling hills and estates where pure eye candy.  He took me to his favorite Asian market, Lotte's, and the fish market blew my mind.

 

I have to say I have never been ANYWHERE that sells conch.  I haven't a clue, but $3.99 a pound doesn't seem like a bad price to me. Fish head soup, anyone?

The variety of exotic produce and goods was sensory overload and I loved every minute of it. Next, he took me to Wegman's. I am not sure how to describe Wegman's. Maybe foodie went to market? It is artisan bakery, butcher, seafood market, and farmer market rolled into one. Wegman's wouldn't let me take pictures, but I did sneak a few pics from the mezzanine:

I was craving a good sub and Jerry introduced me to the "Danny's Special," a culinary concoction of Italian meats and savory red pickled peppers on soft white bread.There is simply no way you can eat at a sub chain after this.

I purchased some artisan wheat sour dough bread for my nieces' chili feast on Sunday that was a big hit. I also picked up some Virginia wine and some specialty cheeses to try at home.

 

Having grown up in Maryland, I couldn't pass up the Chesapeake blue crab red. I also tried the "milk cheese" made from sheep's milk. Both were a-maz-ing. I picked up a blue from Italy and some champagne cheddar. Will try this weekend.

Needless to say, my trip to the mountains was filled with family and the bittersweet pang of good memories. As the years roll by, I can appreciate and enjoy my time with my brother as I never have before. I have always loved Jane and considered her my sister and my nieces are just pure cherries on my Sunday, but no one says it better than Jane Austin when it comes to the power of familia bonds:

     Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits,      have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply...  ~Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814

So...as I drink my blue crab red and nibble my cheese, I lift my glass to family, my blood.  Until next time we meet, I love you all!

 

Navel Gazing

More on that funk I have been experiencing. I’m a bit sheepish to admit, but it started around my birthday last month. It isn’t the specific number or even that I am growing older really. I think it is this prevailing feeling of being stuck. All at once I seem to be absorbing the shock of the many life changes and challenges I am facing.

I have always been a goal-oriented person who kept her eye on the prize. I have been a single parent for the past 15 years and the goal has always been to raise two relatively functioning young adults. They don't smoke crack and neither has robbed a bank. I'm thinking I'm two for two here. The “kids” have moved out and moved in several times, but it is different. I no longer find my purpose in them and I feel set adrift in more ways than one. 

I have worked a job for the past 10 years that does not make use of any of my God-given talents just to pay my bills and complete this goal. Task accomplished. Only now I am in an empty house, working a job I am unfulfilled at, and for the very first time in my adult life, I don’t know what to do next. 

I want to go back to working in publishing because it is what I have always loved, and frankly, I'm good at it. But I have found that, while I was out of this sandbox, I am now expected to have a top secret clearance, a masters degree, and know HTML, CSS, Wordpress, and Java--good luck finding that person for $30,000 a year! Never mind that I have always learned all of my job skills on the fly and then excelled head and shoulders above the rest. I think it has something to do with the underdog equation. When no one else believes in you, you have something to prove.

Having to put my life on the back burner for 10 years has left me in a career I don’t see going anywhere and one I don’t enjoy. Go back to school you say? Having raised the kids on my own meager salary, the money tree is, well, dry. I am in a quandary as to what to do to get out of this quicksand. Should I buy a “new” used vehicle or try to get a loan for school or maybe some technical training? Take a job earning $10 an hour to learn these new skills on the job? I think not. My none-existent significant other is not here to pick up the slack for a year or two or three. What if I get sick? Or, what if I don’t want $50,000 in educational debt hanging over my graying head at night?

Lest you think I am complaining or throwing myself one helluva pity party, I’m not. It’s more of a heart lament. Again, it’s like being 13 and not knowing what you’re going to look like in a few years, how high school will be, and if anyone will ask you to the dance. I don’t think I can get through this unless I speak it through and own how I am feeling now. Please don't take this wrong. I know I am blessed. For all of the hardships I have endured, I have two wonderful young adult children I can take credit for raising, both of who I believe have bright futures and will add to humanity here on earth and in God’s kingdom to come.  I am also still healthy. Yet, I feel stuck. 

Gee, I know this all sounds depressing, but let’s get real. It is depressing. Life is unfair, children grow up, death and divorce happen, parents age or die, bad things happen to good people, and no matter what, time marches on. I’m not ready to give up by any stretch of the imagination. God forbid! But with all of the single women out there, I find it disappointing that there is not much written about these devastating life changes I am facing as a single person. 

Let’s face it, there is no blue ribbon prize for the job I did or the sacrifices I made and no husband to rebuild my relationship with now that the nest is empty.  Still, in my heart I know my married sisters are feeling this same sting. So maybe the single part is me indulging just a wee bit in self-pity and navel gazing.

I am in that thankless place where my grown children are not really old enough to appreciate the sacrifices that I made and my parents too old to remember I wasn’t always acting as their parent. It is rather a lonely feeling when you realize for the first time that your mother may be your biggest cheerleader, but she can no longer get off the bench. I miss the woman who soothed my wounded days and wounded soul with her own special salve. 

So I am learning to carry on alone and become the pillar of the community my mother raised me to be. I just have to know and believe that God does see me and that He has not forgotten the loneliness, financial desperation, or the desires of my heart. And though I know He cares, it is tough that on top of all of these bewildering changes, that I am feeling so invisible. I spoke about this in a previous post, but it is such a strange, vaporous state. I have never been someone who enjoyed the spotlight, even for a minute. I think what strikes me the most about this "disappearing" phenomena is that I didn’t know I was always in the limelight until someone hit the switch. I guess it is a little like the saying, “Youth is wasted on the young.”

The movies or books directed to the single women my age who are suffering this same malady either advise them overtly or outright to “reinvent” themselves. And if that fails, travel ladies! You can’t reinvent yourself on a budget. It’s like there is this big media presupposition that all middle-aged, single women have a well hidden bankroll.  

I really am not a whiner. Really. I’m actually pretty tough, but I must say I have been completely ambushed and woefully unprepared for this time in my life. I will bounce back. That is just what I do. And, more than likely, I’ll “reinvent” myself. In the meantime, please don’t send me any travel brochures.