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I'm testing out a few design ideas here, so please pardon my mess.
Hey, a girl can play once in a while.
Category Archives: Musings
That kind of night
I work in some funny places. Freelancing affords that kind of freedom, attached to which is the responsibility to get the work done. That has necessitated whipping out the ol' laptop wherever I can: in various waiting rooms, coffee shops, the back deck of the boat, the laundry room, the car ("Could you pull over at that Nice 'n Easy, Brian? They have wi-fi and I need to upload this stuff...").
Tonight, it means enjoying a fleeting pleasure. I wait every winter for it: Continue reading
Tonight, it means enjoying a fleeting pleasure. I wait every winter for it: Continue reading
A vote for honesty
Ah well... so much for keeping up with the blog. I hope to write more in the coming weeks, but in the meantime, I want to share something beautiful that I accidentally ran across. Its simplicity, directness and honesty make me want to find the bit of Native American hidden somewhere in my heritage.
The Invitation By Oriah Mountain Dreamer, a Native American elder
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting in your heart's longing. Continue reading
Lessons from a little rowboat
This time of year brings me back to shivery mornings in an old boatyard barn, where my father readied our boat for launch each spring. A child then, I watched in awe as he sanded every inch of that huge wooden hull and lovingly applied glossy white paint and black stripes. I waited patiently for the boat's launch — and that of the little dinghy Dad had given me, where I contentedly spent so much of my childhood. It was there that he taught me the most about life, and about staying afloat after he and my mom were gone.
The following essay was first published by SheKnows.com. After my father's death in 2005, when we found a copy among some papers he'd saved, I knew that he'd heard me — and that he knew I'd heard him, too. Shortly thereafter, my husband and I bought a boat of our own. Now, as then, I feel closest to them there, on the water. Happy spring ;-). Continue reading
The following essay was first published by SheKnows.com. After my father's death in 2005, when we found a copy among some papers he'd saved, I knew that he'd heard me — and that he knew I'd heard him, too. Shortly thereafter, my husband and I bought a boat of our own. Now, as then, I feel closest to them there, on the water. Happy spring ;-). Continue reading
In hard times, be selfish
Back in December, the inspiring Speaker/Author/Coach/Consultant Tom Justin wrote in his blog about a simple act of kindness that made all the difference in an otherwise stressful day. The key here: He was the giver, not the recipient. Reading it has inspired me to share two similar experiences. Continue reading
The funniest forum exchange I’ve seen in a long time
From Slashdot.org (thanks to @PhilJamesRoxby on Twitter):
Disgusting grammar.
by XcepticZP (1331217) on Thursday February 19, @11:05AM
What a disgusting display of English grammar. Come on, Slashdot! I thought you editor's had better standards.
Re:Disgusting grammar.
by Anonymous Coward on Thursday February 19, @11:12AM (#26917645)
If you are going to criticize someone's grammar. Your post should be grammatically flawless. And your post isn't. That's laughable.
Re:Disgusting grammar.
by Anonymous Coward on Thursday February 19, @11:39AM (#26917979)
If YOU are going to. criticize someone else's. Grammar. Don't use sentence fragments to do. It.
Re:Disgusting grammar.
by hairykrishna (740240) on Thursday February 19, @12:38PM (#26918911)
Shatner, is that you?
How not to begin a sentence
A full day of copyediting today reminded me of another pet peeve: Goofy words at the beginning of sentences.
They're the lazy guy's way of communicating, the equivalent of n in an algebraic equation. In these sentences as in algebra, the objective is to get rid of the n and replace it with something meaningful. And when we're successful, the whole equation—the sentence—adds up more sensibly.
Two n words stand out: Continue reading
Am I an “us” or a “me”?
I am not a pretentious person. I am an even less pretentious entrepreneur.
Still, following the advice of credible-sounding experts and sage columnists, I have been Sands Communications for the past 20 years. But I am not a CEO overseeing a building-full of little gray cubicles and fancy conference rooms; I don't commute to an elaborate, glassy office building filled with the cacophony of ringing phones, shuffling feet, elevator music and suited-up employees driven to "out-hip" each other.
Nope. It's just me, being paid (most of the time) to craft messages and websites that motivate, inspire, inform, entertain or otherwise serve. Continue reading
Still, following the advice of credible-sounding experts and sage columnists, I have been Sands Communications for the past 20 years. But I am not a CEO overseeing a building-full of little gray cubicles and fancy conference rooms; I don't commute to an elaborate, glassy office building filled with the cacophony of ringing phones, shuffling feet, elevator music and suited-up employees driven to "out-hip" each other.
Nope. It's just me, being paid (most of the time) to craft messages and websites that motivate, inspire, inform, entertain or otherwise serve. Continue reading
Tired of thinking
I am tired of thinking. Absolutely, positively burned out.
I watched the final presidential debate tonight after attending a benefit for Francis House, a hospice staffed by angels who kindly and gently help the terminally ill with their journeys into peace. Well-fed, well-entertained and well-wined, I find that I am exhausted. Continue reading
She’s home
I have a daughter to whom the world just opened itself.
See, she's 17 1/2 -- a soulful, sensitive, intelligent and beautiful girl who stands at the crossroads between childhood and adulthood. From here on out, everything changes. And from my middle-aged point of view, I know that the rest of life is fraught (or blessed, depending) with change, like a sky's parade of clouds and sun, storms and blue.
She came home today, breathless after her very first weekend away from home without me. After her first plane ride, her first out-of-state college visit. And now there's no going back: She knows.
In one short weekend, she's discovered that the stage on which high-school dramas play out looks very, very small from 35,000 feet in the air. She's learned that her life can take her anywhere, with the right ticket... that education is a multifaceted experience that happens both inside and outside a classroom... that kindness can be found even in a great wide frightening world (thanks to a certain friend's grandma who played a very gracious host)... And most importantly that even as she flies from the nest, the nest stays put. Home is and always will be home, and her family will always be the one constant -- the keeper of histories, the protector of her soul, the solid, unshakeable sanctuary in a world that shifts with the wind.
When the time comes for her to go to college, I will miss her beyond words. But I will relish watching her open her life like a big birthday present, like I've done so many times before.
She is my heart, the tiny baby who changed my life, the little dynamo who knows me, perhaps, better than anyone. So for the time being, I am happy and relieved that she is here, and will be for many months yet. It's easy to talk to her about change. It's much harder to listen.
See, she's 17 1/2 -- a soulful, sensitive, intelligent and beautiful girl who stands at the crossroads between childhood and adulthood. From here on out, everything changes. And from my middle-aged point of view, I know that the rest of life is fraught (or blessed, depending) with change, like a sky's parade of clouds and sun, storms and blue.
She came home today, breathless after her very first weekend away from home without me. After her first plane ride, her first out-of-state college visit. And now there's no going back: She knows.
In one short weekend, she's discovered that the stage on which high-school dramas play out looks very, very small from 35,000 feet in the air. She's learned that her life can take her anywhere, with the right ticket... that education is a multifaceted experience that happens both inside and outside a classroom... that kindness can be found even in a great wide frightening world (thanks to a certain friend's grandma who played a very gracious host)... And most importantly that even as she flies from the nest, the nest stays put. Home is and always will be home, and her family will always be the one constant -- the keeper of histories, the protector of her soul, the solid, unshakeable sanctuary in a world that shifts with the wind.
When the time comes for her to go to college, I will miss her beyond words. But I will relish watching her open her life like a big birthday present, like I've done so many times before.
She is my heart, the tiny baby who changed my life, the little dynamo who knows me, perhaps, better than anyone. So for the time being, I am happy and relieved that she is here, and will be for many months yet. It's easy to talk to her about change. It's much harder to listen.