“Security!”

I’m not a frequent flyer. Sometimes I forget the rules. As I approached the security checkpoint, I removed all items from my pockets, placed my carry-on items into a bin which I left on the conveyor belt, then waited my turn in line. When the Transportation Security Administration agent called me forward, I stood on the designated foot outlines and struck my pose, hands above my head, inside the imaging portal. The electromagnetic waves detected a potential threat.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“Ma’am,” the TSA officer addressed me, “I need you to see what we see on the screen.” She pointed to the digital image and a non-descript mass on my lower abdomen. “I’m going to have to pat you down. Would you prefer a private screening?” She gestured to a partitioned screening area.

“No, this is fine,” I responded, having never received an authoritative pat-down in my life.

She advised me of the procedure and then traced a gloved hand up each inner thigh ending quite intimately into my groin.

I exhaled a squeal of exaggerated delight, due I suppose, to not knowing what else to say or perhaps attempting to defuse the awkward situation or maybe just trying to be funny.

She held back her laugh as she held up her gloved hand. “Now I’m going to search the inside of your waistband,” and she proceeded with two fingers around my entire perimeter to find nothing.

“Whew! That’s the most lovin’ I’ve had in a while,” I said—fully acting, feeling on a roll.

My intuition told me the officer secretly appreciated my attempt to make light of the situation that most despise, or maybe it was her hand over her mouth concealing her laugh and smile. “Ma’am…”

I don’t remember her exact words, but I felt a slight admonishment for joking about airport security. I realized a little too late that the TEA is serious. More serious than me. And I appreciate the extra security measures. I really do. But sometimes I forget the rules.

***

As I walked away from my near incarceration somewhat perplexed, another realization dawned. My jeans, when I bought them, sold me with the phrase “miracle tummy tuck control.” My jeans, made with built-in flattening power, had transformed not only my tummy, but me—from the most non-threatening person on earth into a potential security risk. Note to self: Wear something else on my return and all subsequent flights. Note to the ladies: beware of body shaping garments. (You’re welcome!)

Body shapers secure fat, right?



I Have a Secret (On Anti-Aging)

A few weeks ago on my last trip to Oklahoma, I met up with my beautiful forever friend Starla who happened to be visiting at the same time from California. We’ve been friends since second grade, and when you’re 49 like us, that’s forever, right? Even with the distance, we make an effort to see each other every year or two, our phone visits in between are always good for the soul, and there’s nothing like those special friendships that encourage and uplift you, make you laugh and let you to have a good cry, and always pick back up right where you left off.

“Your skin looks fabulous,” I said, mesmerized by her radiant face.

“I’ll tell you my secret as long as you don’t blog about it,” she responded. I’m just kidding, you guys—she didn’t say that, and I did later ask if I could share her BIG secret. Truthfully Starla said, “I’ve been eating collagen protein since April, every morning in an açai bowl with frozen cherries and coconut. You can buy the açai as a puree in the frozen section of the grocery store.”  

When I arrived at my local HEB, the details of our conversation escaped me, so I bought smoothie ingredients—bananas and strawberries and unsweetened vanilla almond milk and a one-pound cannister of the anti-aging factor. At home I threw that all (not the whole pound, just one scoop) into my blender with some ice and frozen blueberries, and voila! Health in a glass. Today is Day 7, and I kid you no more, I can see a difference in my sun-damaged hands and my nails, too.

Purely Inspired is not paying me for this advertising (but they should).

One scoop of collagen peptides includes 18g of clean protein, 18 amino acids, and a B-vitamin complex to support metabolic energy. It’s gluten free, dairy free, sugar free, non GMO, and both KETO and PALEO certified, not to mention my extra servings of fruit each day.

Benefits of Collagen Peptides (according to supplementpolice.com)

  1. Collagen improves the health of skin and hair.
  2. Collagen reduces joint pains and degeneration.
  3. Collagen helps in weight loss.
  4. Collagen improves the health of nails and teeth.
  5. Collagen detoxifies the liver.

Benefits of Forever Friends (according to Mrs. Ward, my 9th grade English teacher and me)

  1. Forever friends encourage and uplift you.
  2. They make you laugh.
  3. They don’t mind when you cry.
  4. You can always pick back up right where you left off because you’ve known each other forever.
  5. They are the fountain of youth, literally.

Starla has one more secret. She’s a Plexus distributor and swears by the Joyōme Illuminating Day Serum and Intensive Overnight Repair. For more information go to https://plexusworldwide.com/home. Starla’s sponsor number is 2876670, which should give her credit if you place an order. Sending good vibes your way! Thanks for reading today!

#FeelingGrateful

I try not to think too hard about my blog statistics, but sometimes they amaze the heck out of me. Today the blog passed 5000 views for the year, more than 1000 over my entire 2018. I just wanted to say thank you to anyone who has stopped by to give me a chance and to those of you who continue to return and for the writing support and for the friendships made. All of this means much more than the stats and much more than you know.

A List of Praises

by Anne Porter

Give praise with the psalms that tell the trees to sing,                                                         Give praise with the Gospel choirs in the storefront churches,                                          Mad with the joy of the Sabbath,                                                                                                       Give praise with the babble of infants, who wake with the sun,                                          Give praise with children chanting their skip-rope rhymes,                                                    A poetry not in books, a vagrant mischievous poetry                                                          living wild on the Streets through generations of children.

Give praise with the sound of the milk-train far away                                                          With its mutter of wheels and long-drawn-out sweet whistle                                                 As it speeds through the fields of sleep at three in the morning,                                              Give praise with the immense and peaceful sigh                                                                       Of the wind in the pinewoods,                                                                                                       At night give praise with starry silences.

Give praise with the skirling of seagulls                                                                                           And the rattle and flap of sails                                                                                                          And gongs of buoys rocked by the sea-swell                                                                               Out in the shipping-lanes beyond the harbor.                                                                        Give praise with the humpback whales,                                                                                  Huge in the ocean they sing to one another.

Give praise with the rasp and sizzle of crickets,                                                                katydids and cicadas,                                                                                                                    Give praise with hum of bees,                                                                                                            Give praise with the little peepers who live near water.                                                               When they fill the marsh with a shimmer of bell-like cries                                                    We know that the winter is over.

Give praise with mockingbirds, day’s nightingales.                                                                Hour by hour they sing in the crepe myrtle                                                                              And glossy tulip trees                                                                                                                         On quiet side streets in southern towns.

Give praise with the rippling speech                                                                                            Of the eider-duck and her ducklings                                                                                             As they paddle their way downstream                                                                                          In the red-gold morning                                                                                                                      On Restiguche, their cold river,                                                                                                 Salmon river,                                                                                                                              Wilderness river.

Give praise with the whitethroat sparrow.                                                                                      Far, far from the cities,                                                                                                                   Far even from the towns,                                                                                                             With piercing innocence                                                                                                                 He sings in the spruce-tree tops,                                                                                            Always four notes and four notes only.

Give praise with water,                                                                                                                   With storms of rain and thunder                                                                                                And the small rains that sparkle as the dry,                                                                             And the faint floating ocean roar                                                                                               That fills the seaside villages,                                                                                                     And the clear brooks that travel down the mountains

And with this poem, a leaf of the vast flood,                                                                            And with the angels in that other country.

Courtesy of https://poets.org/poem/list-praises

Everyone Needs a Denise

It was July 14, 1975. Up the street, a vacant lot and three houses away lived my friend Jennifer. I was five in 1975, and Jennifer turned five that day, so I walked to her house with a gift in hand to celebrate her birthday. Jennifer’s social calendar was packed for a five-year-old. After her party, she would head across town to another birthday party for a girl I didn’t know. Although the details are fuzzy, I remember crashing that party with Jennifer and meeting the tiny, precious, blonde-haired, hazel-eyed Denise. We would grow up together, sharing classrooms and friends and happenings of the Oklahoma panhandle. Little did I know that one day in the distant future, Denise would forever change my life.

Flash forward to Memorial Day weekend 2008 and our twenty-year high school reunion. When I caught up with Denise for the first time in at least nineteen years, we discovered that we lived within twenty minutes of each other. And guess what? We both needed a friend. One dinner at a time, one text message at a time, over months and months, then years and years, Denise learned all my deep-dark secrets, and I learned hers. We shared our imperfections and struggles, our wins and celebrations, and that’s how the girl I’ve known since age five became my bestie. And OMG, everyone needs a Denise.

Speaking of wins, her 20-year-old son Ryan, a junior on the Baylor Men’s Golf team, won the Texas Amateur golf tournament back in June with Denise caddying and coaching him toward the victory. She coaches kids’ golf, by the way, and teaches private lessons, too. In case you don’t have an extra two minutes to watch this news clip and see AWESOME in motion, my favorite part is when Ryan says, “If I got down on myself, no matter what happened, she would be the one to say, ‘All right, we got this. Let’s just keep on moving forward.'” So many times, Denise has kept me moving forward with a little positivity and a little “we got this.”

In 2015 my son was hospitalized, and believe it or not, I was a complete wreck. Denise was there to say, “You got this.”
In 2017 Hurricane Harvey flooded my house, and here is Denise showing up to help with the packing, the trashing, the decision-making, saying, “You got this.”

In that same news clip, Denise says, “You don’t see very many mothers [caddying], but if anything, I hope I’m encouraging more mothers to get out there.” That’s my Denise, the ultimate encourager. Life’s too short for anyone who brings you down, and I’m so very grateful for my forever friends who lift me up.

It is July 14, 2019, and I’m hopping in the car, driving the four plus hours from Houston to Dallas to crash her party again today. Forty-four years later. I wish Jennifer could crash it, too.

Whatever challenges you meet today, just remember, “You got this.”

You Can Take the Girl Out of the Mountains (But You Can’t Take the Mountains Out of the Girl)

When I stepped into the blue rubber raft from the safety of the river bank, I had only two things on my mind: Carpe Diem and surviving (with faith and gratitude, peace and hope). Before the bus ride to our launching site, I had skimmed the release of liability and waiver of legal rights and acknowledged that whitewater rafting can be HAZARDOUS AND INVOLVES THE RISK OF PHYSICAL INJURY/DEATH. Then I signed on the line and proceeded to pick up my wetsuit, spray jacket, helmet, and life-preserver.

Colorado’s abundant snowfall last winter through May translates to deeper, faster water and what may have been the best white water rafting season in decades.

Shout out to my brother Scott and his beautiful, adventurous wife Gerri for having a 30th wedding anniversary and a reason to celebrate with friends and family, to Rapid Image Photography for the complimentary photos, and to Zach, Ivan, and Kerrie of Clear Creek Rafting Company for the safety debrief and an adrenaline-fueled float through he Rocky Mountains. No one fell off of the raft. No one died. And the river of life keeps flowing, sometimes with faster, deeper waters and cold splashes in the face, sometimes with the possibility of tipping, relying on your life vest, and swimming to safety.

When I stepped back into my ordinary life from the perfection of vacation, I had only two things on my mind: Carpe Diem and surviving (with faith and gratitude, peace and hope).

Breckenridge, Colorado in July

Happy Independence Day to my American friends! And Happy 4th of July wherever you are!

The Tip of the Iceberg

Photo by Tatiana on Pexels.com

I look at my reflection in the mirror this morning and notice my throat splotching red. But I teach school, and school’s out for summer. I shouldn’t have one iota of stress. I stop for a moment to consider my thoughts. You know those thoughts, the ones you can’t shake?

Present thought—the iceberg. You know, the whole picture—the tip of the iceberg you see above the surface and the huge mass you see below. It’s like how you know a person based on what you see, but you can’t see past the surface, or maybe you can see just below the surface but not too much deeper without asking some heavy questions. When I started Googling images to illustrate this fuzzy point in my head, I stumbled onto Freud’s iceberg theory, and he said exactly what was on my mind. Weird, right? My brain forgets so much these days. I know the theory. I just didn’t remember that Freud fathered it. Anywho, I studied a bit and hope someone else might find the information helpful.

According to Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanalytic theory, the mind can be divided into three separate parts with varying purposes:

  1. The conscious part includes what we can sense in the moment—thoughts, memories, feelings, and wishes.
  2. The preconscious part consists of memories we can pull into our conscious on cue for a specific purpose. For example, you walk into a restaurant to have lunch with a friend, peruse the menu, and say, “What do you like here?” Looking at the menu will prompt your friend to remember.
  3. The unconscious part comprises the bulk of our minds—unpleasant or unacceptable thoughts, memories, habits, urges, reactions, and feelings outside the realm of our conscious awareness, such as anxiety and shame, conflict and broken hearts.
Image courtesy of https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-the-unconscious-2796004

Freud compared the levels of the mind to an iceberg. Above the surface, you see the tip of the iceberg representing the conscious. Below the water, observable at surface level is the preconscious. The massive part of the iceberg extending too deep to be visible represents the unconscious. According to Freud, the unconscious mind affects our behavior and experiences without our awareness or understanding. We all have a storehouse of memories and emotions that we push down deep to forget. Verywellmind.com explains it all very well and dedicates a whole page to psychotherapy. It has been shown that continued self-examination leads to emotional growth over time, and I’m all for growth of any kind.

So as my throat splotches red and I contemplate why people (including myself) do what they do and say what they say and make the same mistakes over and over, the answer according to Freud is pretty simple after all.

Sunshine Galore

Summer kicked off with toes in sand and wind in hair for this teacher (Galveston, TX).
Pool side views of sunlit clouds at the Hotel Galvez.
A quick trip to Oklahoma, morning walks around Sunset Lake, sunshine in pursuit.
Somewhere in the Texas panhandle, the sunrise was a must-stop-and-photograph.
Same trip home for a sun shot near Canadian, TX because look how gorgeous.
At home in the back yard.
Did you know that vitamin D promotes calcium absorption, supports bone growth and structure, reduces inflammation, supports muscle function, potentially staves off heart disease, possibly prevents cancer, and supports brain development?
https://health.usnews.com/wellness/articles/everything-you-need-to-know-about-vitamin-d

The Sun Never Says by Hafiz

Even 
After 
All this time
The Sun never says to the Earth,

“You owe me.”

Look
What happens
With a love like that,
It lights the whole sky.

This post brought to you with gratitude to JoAnn of Midnight Harmony for my second Sunshine Blogger Award nomination. JoAnn is a fellow mental health advocate who blogs about all-things-Florida and reminds me to stop and enjoy the flowers. JoAnn, I’m humbled. Many, many thanks to you for the blogger love and support for my rule-breaking.

In keeping with the theme, enjoy my sun shots and the 14th century wisdom of Hafiz. Ironically it’s raining here as I tap out this post, but I carry the sun with me. I carry it in my heart. “Look what happens with a love like that.”