Look to the skies.

I remember now why I stopped writing.

And, more importantly, when.

I hadn't stopped entirely. I tried my hand at this "domestic lifestyle" blogging. I threw myself into the recipe blog. And the Great Martini Blog. I was creative with my status messages & random quotes of the day. (Yes, technically written by someone else.)

But I didn't "write" anymore. Not for about a year.

And yesterday, it all came streaming back.

It's my favorite time of year, astronomically speaking. The Perseid Meteor shower. The time of year when you will find me asleep with my face pressed against the living room window as I sit & wait for just one more streak of light.

It's a magical time.

I know it's nothing more than space debris burning up in our atmosphere.

But I don't look at it that way.

Shooting stars.

Wishes to be made.

Dreams.

Galaxies far, far away.....

And this year, the Perseids reminded me of why I didn't write for ever so long a time.

I was looking for the start date & lunar forecast for this year's display. A lot of my bookmarks still reside on the dinosaur, so I had to do a new search & clicked on the first option.

And went straight to the site that crumpled my spirit.

Last year, at precisely this time, I applied for my dream job. An assistant editor position. At an astronomy mag. That needed someone to keep their website fresh. And write a blog.

It was in the stars!

I don't think I have ever been closer to actually answering the question: what do you want to be when you grow up?

I tweaked the resume, wrote a brilliant cover letter...and waited. And waited. And waited. And checked the posting. And waited some more.

Then I got the call. The call that asked a bit more about me. Then I waited some more, but only for a day this time. And I got the call for "the" interview. The interview of a lifetime.

Long story short (yep, I know, "too late"!), I didn't get the job.

It apparently was NOT in the stars.

And I was crushed. And took it personally.

Since my writing skills were an integral part of the app, I assumed, quite frankly, that I sucked.

I lost confidence in myself. And I stopped writing.

Well, I stopped writing from my heart. I stopped writing anything of substance. I started looking for approval from a new audience; readers that liked my cooking, decorating & photography. Not my wit, my humor...my soul.

A little part of me had died. I didn't feel "good enough" to write anymore. I really didn't feel good enough for anything anymore. I stopped knitting and creating jewelry pieces too.

I threw myself into the mundane.

For a long time.

Gradually, the muse returned. I think her ego was bruised as well & it took her awhile to want to inspire me.

And when I looked at that website yesterday I had a fresh outlook on things and realized maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a "dream job" after all.

Hindsight is amazing...when you take time to "see" it.

And things do work out for the best.

Or what we can presume is the best.

And, life goes on.

The Importance of Play

It's Monday.

Again.

And I haven't had enough weekend.

Again.

Don't get me wrong. I found time to relax, & go to a movie, & spend time with friends, & enjoy a nice glass of wine, & talk about good books I have read...& talk about good books that I haven't read. I designed some jewelry, made creme brulee, & listened to the rain. (Listened to a LOT of rain!) I lit a candle & watched it burn.

I also managed to get a mountain of laundry done, restock the empty fridge, get the house neat & tidy, & cook up some wonderful meals.

But I want more.

More weekend.

More down time.

More play.

I love to play.

I'm good at it. And, quite frankly, I don't think some people make enough time for it. I'm not talking playing cards...or Monopoly...or 20 questions...or Scrabble online. I mean Play. With a capital "P".

It involves laughter. Lots of laughter.

It requires you to let yourself go a little. Or a lot. To let your hair down, to forget about responsibilities that normally weigh you down, to not worry about what that person over there that you don't know anyway thinks.

I love to play. Or did I say that already?! *wink*

I love to look at things in a light-hearted way, to find humor in things that others might miss. Sometimes, I sit back & wonder about people that look so solemn all the time. I even worry a bit about people who never laugh out loud. It's not good to be so serious.

I love to play. (Yes, I'm establishing a pattern here.)

I love to throw out a line & see who takes the bait, to see who's paying attention, & who is looking at things sideways like I am. To see who is willing to spend some time being "frivolous".

I love to play.

Sometimes I worry that people will think I lack depth. (I can have a Dark Side, if you want me too....) I can be plenty sensible & mature when I need to be. But it is much more fun to whimsical. It just is.

I love to play.

I love to sing. Out loud. In public. As I walk through stores, or along the beach...or through the office. And I love it when people join in.

I love to play.

And I've noticed it is usually the kids who play along with me. They join in on the singing. And the random picture taking. And the laughing at the foibles of human nature (behind other people's backs even).

I get stares from adults. The ones who have grown up. The ones who have forgotten how to laugh and enjoy the little things. They frown at me & don't find my playfulness at all funny.

They...are fuddy duddies.

And I don't like to play with them.

But I do love to play!

The Sounds of Silence

I love "quiet".

It's actually quite complex when you really take the time to sit still & listen.

It is!

When we first moved to the middle of nowhere ever so many years ago, I couldn't even sleep at night...the quiet was just SO loud! I was used to the city. Before we moved, I had a constant cacophony of trains, planes & automobiles, not to mention fire engines, etc! Noisy, mechanical, man-made things.

Then, we moved to the country. Not really, I mean, we didn't "buy the farm". Rather, we settled on a nice subdivision that USED to be a farm. To be honest, we do pass cows on a daily basis, but we have strict "No Livestock" rules here.

However, it is rural, I'll give you that. Once, when my best friend from High School drove out from the city to visit, she got so totally lost after an hour of looking that she threw her hands in the air, shouted, "Good lord, NO ONE lives out here" & went home. (Ah, the days before cell phones!)

But I love it.

Now.

At first, I couldn't get to sleep. It was SO still. And quiet. And dark.

I would lie in bed, snuggled up beneath a comforter & a cat, & listen. Did you know your ears can actually hurt a little when you strain them to hear? Eventually, I would fall asleep, after tossing & turning. But it didn't come easily. It's funny how you miss the noise.

It really didn't take me that long to adjust to the quiet though. And before you know it, I was hearing things.

No, not little voices :P

Crickets.

Coyotes.

Great Horned Owls.

Rain on the skylight.

And I began to appreciate the quiet. And I learned to listen to it.

Winter came, as winters do, & we got snow. Lots of it.

I love how quiet it is after a snowfall now. Sometimes, there is nothing more amazing than that stillness, as the snow glistens like diamonds strewn about in the sunlight and you hear...nothing. It's like a cloak wrapped about you. It makes me feel safe...the "snow quiet" does.

Then Spring came. And I learned to listen then too.

As the birds came back, I heard new songs. I will never forget my first meadowlark! (Well, after I grabbed the bird book & figured out what it was.) When I was little, we always looked for the first robin. Now, I know Spring is definitely coming when I hear the rattling call of the Sandhill Cranes; and the twee of the chickadees as they nest; & the morning song of the cardinal.

And Spring blossomed into Summer. With new stillness.

I renewed my love for star-gazing. Having grown up in the city, with the urban island of light, I was struck by the quiet beauty of the wide open skies. I can stand for hours & just watch the stars go by. If you listen...you can hear the meteor showers. I don't mean they actually produce an audible cosmic "shoop". It's just a feeling. But it's there.

Then Autumn fell. With a new lesson.

A symphony of colors surrounded me. As the leaves left the safety of their branches, you could hear them as they danced on the wind. You could hear them as they crunched underfoot. My favorite time of year.

And I sit here this morning, as the house comes to life & a thunderstorm rolls through, enjoying my coffee, some candlelight...and the quiet.

Some things are just SO obvious!

I really, really, really need to go see "Julie & Julia"!

If there has been one movie lately that was made just for me, this would be the one.

For quite obvious reasons.

My name....is Julie :)

I got called "Julia" for an entire year of grade school by a slightly deranged nun.

I grew up watching Julia Child on PBS. And loved it when Robin Williams imitated her..."and a little MORE sherry...."

I blog...

I cook...

I blog about cooking...

I create...

I make a huge mess when I cook...sometimes. "There's stuff all over the floor" has been heard more than once around here.

I am planning to write a cookbook. And get rejected by publishers. Lots of them.

I'm extremely competitive.

I like butter :)

And I love, love, love Stanley Tucci!

'Nuf said.

Of Mice & Men

Or, in this case, women.

Or more precisely, "woman". Just one.

One sleep deprived, just a bit over the edge, give me an espresso drip now, slightly crazed woman.

And that one...would be...me.

Never before have we had a trouble with mice. "Mouse?" Yes. I would hear a skitter up in the attic space. I would alert the Y-chromosome endowed dwellers of the abode. A nice, humane little trap would be set with peanut butter. And within a day or two, compete bliss. (Defined by the quiet lack of skitter.)

This usually occurs in Fall, as God's furry little creatures instinctively look for a cozy place to call home for the upcoming winter chill. And, of course, my house is as cozy as they come.

But, I really don't tolerate extra, uninvited roommates. Even if they are cute, & small, & mostly quiet.

This summer is a different story.

We have ghosts. In the attic.

Oh, not real ghosts. That would be cool, in a creepy sort of way, & I could boast about it & spend my time trying to convince people that they are real.

Nope, instead, we have mice. House mice. Not cute little deer mice, or spunky little field mice. Nope. Dingy grey, rather on the large size, frumpy old house mice. I know. I got to identify the first culprit. And, using handy Google Images, found a picture so the son could peg the second.

Both, by the way, are deader than doornails now. One by humane little trap. The other in hand to hand combat.

But the skittering continues, & I haven't had a good night's sleep in over two weeks. And, it's starting to mess with my head.

I've been getting advice from others who have undergone this sort of furry commando assault. Poison is out. I can't stand the thought of a small defenseless being ingesting poison...only to be eaten by something up the food chain, & so on, until my little act of vengeance has a ripple effect throughout the entire environment. Besides...have you ever smelled a dead mouse? Ew...imagine THAT stuck in your walls. In summer.

A co-worker recommended those ultrasonic plug-ins. You know, "Glade for Rodents". However, that only works to get them out of the particular room where you have it plugged in. That problem, we don't have, thanks to the big furry kittens, who, by the way, are excellent hunters. (Case in point: I have NEVER had a problem with rogue cat toys!)

But this has to stop. Now. I need sleep.

So, off I went to the local Super-every sort of thing you could ever want for cheap-store. And I wandered up & down the aisles looking for a way to rid myself of my little inconvenience. I checked the home improvement/hardware section. It seemed the obvious choice as getting rid of those creatures would definitely improve things around THIS home!

Nothing.

So, off I went to the garden section where I found a myriad of pest control solutions. For things with MORE than 4 legs. And thoraxes.

I checked the housewares section. And while all those gadgets would have come in handy if I was attacked while cooking, none were suitable for catching things in the attic unless I was to sit there armed & ready.

And during my wanderings, I kept an eye out for a blue-vested angel to point me in the right direction. And found none. (Come to think of it, I hadn't even been "greeted" when entering the store. Hurumph!)

So, as a last resort, I headed off to the sporting section. And began eyeing up the guns. Of course THERE I found an employee who asked if he could help me find something. With a gleam in my eye, and a rifle in my sights, I snarled..."I need something to get rid of mice."

Honest to god, the man took a step back.

He told me I would find what I was looking for over in the grocery part of the store.

Huh? Wow, why didn't I think of that. So, off I went...to find shelves of poison one aisle over from the cookies. And those cheap little wooden traps. And that's it.

Crestfallen, I took my other items up to check out (yes, finally grabbed Season 5 of SG-A & a TInkerbell notebook for blogging notes) & wandered out to the car. *sigh* What now? I couldn't return home empty handed. I needed to be rid of my nightmare!!!

As I looked up, it hit me. Home Depot. Shining like a beacon. Ah, thank goodness for the wonders of progress & super-malls. Redemption. Not wasting a second, I drove over, ran into the store & straight to customer service. I was pretty excited that I finally was somewhere that could help. It being a "Home" place & all. A friendly little man came out & asked what he could do for me.

Of course, my response was, "Come over to my house & kill my mice!" Yep...he took a step back too. Then led me off to the aisle I had been dreaming of. Traps, & sonic plugs, & poisons. Oh my! And...sticky pads.

My little man was a compadre of sorts...having once lived in an apartment of questionable upkeep. Sticky pads were apparently sent by the gods. They will rid me of mice. It's just a little, well, icky. You see, they get their little paws stuck in the goo...but don't die...and, well, you get the picture.

But, he guaranteed, they work. If you can get the mice to play twister on them. "Plunk a blob of peanut butter in the middle." (Even though I said I had Einstein's mice, & they knew PB was a TRAP!) Then, have your husband "dispose" of them." "He can do that, right?"

"Well," I said, "if he won't, I'll come back & have you do it!"

So, home I went. Soon, my sticky pads were strategically spread about the locations of the skittering. And the waiting began.

I heard the skittering again during the night.

Back & forth, & around.

For 45 minutes.

But no sounds of stuckness.

I may be going back for that gun!

The Transference of Energy

Or, more appropriately, how people suck it right out of me!

I was in a bad, ugly, stinky mood yesterday. I'll admit it. I was. External forces had me feeling angry, angsty, antsy, and a whole lot of other "a's". I will also admit I spent most of the ride to work pretending I had a Blue Tooth...so I could talk to myself as I drove.

Hey...whatever helps you work through it.

I pulled into my usual spot, put it in park, listened to one last verse of Moon Over Bourbon Street, took a deep breath...& left it in the car. "It" being the majority of the mood. Walking in, I was greeted with the usual choruses of "Good Mornings", the emphasis on "good", & the usual morning banter. To which I promptly responded with a caveat of the fact that I would NOT be smiling today. (Well, yesterday...oh, you get the point.)

Well now, THAT didn't go over well. At all. In fact, it just started a little competition to see who could make me smile first. Of course, I was having none of it & went about my business of trying to find the desk that I left all organized & clear under the chaos that had erupted in my absence. A lot can be piled up in a mere 16 hours, let me tell you! (Which helped my mood immensely!)

To me, work is work. I check my personal life at the door & do my job. (And do it well.) And, quite frankly, if I wanted people in my business, I'd direct them to my blogs! :)

So, I sat, & industriously made my way through the piles. And piles. And piles. Nothing I like better than making order out of chaos. Good thing.

But, my "just doing my job" didn't go over well. Nope.

It seems not only does the entire place rely on the Admin skills I bring, I am also in charge of morale! Think Julie from the Love Boat. Cruise Director. In charge of activities. And fun! (Odd, my High School friends had brought up that very point when describing me during one of our now infamous reunions.)

The entire atmosphere became subdued. And somber. All because I wasn't my usual playful self.

Don't get me wrong...I was just being reserved. I don't take my grumpies out on people I work with. I was just doing my job with a bit less spunk & energy. And apparently bringing everybody down in the process.

It was like no one could be light-hearted if I wasn't. Not out of respect (like, as if my goldfish had died), but because no one was leading them in the frivolity. Everyone else just sort of sat at their desks & worked...in silence. No off color jokes, no teasing, no golf stories. Just...work. I imagine that because I was in a snit yesterday, a lot got accomplished!

And, I doubt anyone really noticed how they were reacting to my funk. But I did. And it sort of bothered me. For a couple reasons.

First, it is amazing how people react to the energy around them. Bring in a positive aura & less aware people respond in an equal & positive manner. And vice versa, as happened yesterday. And they are totally unaware of it.

Second, and a little annoying, is the fact that I seem to have the dominant aura around the place & I now find myself in the position of "keeper of morale." (Not that that's necessarily a bad thing...imagine the power...call me "Aura Girl"!) It's just one more responsibility I didn't really want. Kind of like always having to plan what's for dinner.

Third, no wonder I feel drained at the end of the day. People are relying on me for their feel good mood. I mean, not completely. I know I'm not all powerful...a lot goes into how anyone feels on any given day. I just now realize that I have a bit of an effect on things.

Brings a whole new meaning to "Put on a Happy Face"!

On becoming "one" with nature.

I was late for work (again) the other day.

Almost 15 minutes late.

And only 5 of it was my fault.

The other 10 minutes was due to turkeys. An entire family. Mom, dad....& at least 13 little baby whatever they are called. (Chicks sounds wrong.) They were attempting to cross the road, after apparently trying, without success, to answer the classic question. Rounding the corner from my subdivision, there was a car pulled over, & an arm frantically waving me to stop. It seems they had been trying for some time & this woman was bound & determined to let them get across. So we sat in our cars, & chatted through our open windows as they darted, & paused, & gobbled, & paused, one after the other, until they had all safely maneuvered from one side to the other.

And I began to see a developing pattern in my life. As wildlife made me pause & look at things a bit differently.

It really started with the ghosts in the attic. Mice, actually. But it sounds more dramatic this way. Their random skittering wakes me in the middle of the night, when everything else is quiet. I'm getting rather sleep deprived, but it is affording me a quiet stillness as I lay there in the dark. Time to think of everything I shelve during the day. Time for reflection.

Then the woodchuck (affectionately dubbed "Norris") who pressed his little nose up against the patio doors, peering into our lives. Wondering what we do in here that is so intriguing. And, quite fortunately, the live trap that was to transport Norris to another abode still sits on our front porch, or the skunk that has taken to wandering through our clover might have found himself inside. Timing is everything. And some things are best put off.

Add to this the coyote, standing not 20 feet from the road, in a field that I forget to look at most days as I zip past on my errands. He cocked his head as if to ask what the rush was. (Or maybe because he knows I am harboring a mouse buffet.)

And the deer, who find it great fun to test my reflexes by bounding in front of my car. Or just regally, in their best "Great Prince of the Forest" impression, stand at the side of the road & let ME pass. Or, finding the same clover the skunk does, graze in the back yard, letting me know who actually has the right to live here.

Or the Great Horned Owl that found it necessary to swoop just in front of me while he delivered some all important message. That is, when he is not perched on the roof who WHO who who who-ing. (Again, word of the buffet must be out!)

And the cardinal, who peeks in my front window.

Or the hummingbird that I have forgotten to feed, but comes back anyway in hopes I will get my priorities straightened out.

This wildlife, this nature, all around me. If I just take a moment to notice.

What else do I miss in a day?

Hark!

And now, a somewhat less-than-triumphant return to the world of blogging.

Truth be told, I've missed my morning mental calisthenics. I just lost my platform, & my balance, for a while. I entered the world of "social networking" & realized that I really didn't want an entire list of people I know, but that didn't actually "know" me, reading what I came to see as my escape from the world. My observations, my poetry, my angst ridden moments..."my, my, my".

And the muse, quite frankly, was on a bit of a holiday. Maybe I got busy, maybe I got tired, maybe I just wanted to shut off the inner voice.

But it's time to write again.

With a new outlook...looking in.

And letting myself play again.

Welcome back.