Snapshot Saturday: 10/22/16

Hubs and I were out of town last weekend and with the days getting shorter, by the time I get home from the office each evening there hasn’t been enough daylight left for me to spend quality time in the rose bed. Today I’m traveling to Lexington, KY, to attend a funeral. Before hopping in the shower I wanted to step outside and take a look at my babies. It wasn’t light enough to photograph without a flash. So here are my first rose pictures, hastily shot, using flash photography.

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What is CIMO?

Many articles have been written about FOMO: the Fear Of Missing Out. I recently read a piece on JOMO: the Joy of Missing Out. That one was written for Introverts like me. While I don’t suffer from FOMO, I don’t think I feel joy when missing a social activity.

I think I have CIMO: Content In Missing Out. Allow me to explain.

Hubs and I had a trip planned for the first weekend of this month. A work commitment popped up and I needed to stay in town. We searched for another weekend in October (it was an anniversary/Halloween mash up, so it needed to happen in October.) Due to a family birthday celebration later in the month our only option was last weekend. As it happened, I had friends coming in town for an annual reunion. I agonized for a bit, then decided to compromise. I would spend Thursday evening with my friends, and the rest of the weekend would be all about Halloween fun with hubs.

Thursday evening with my reunion crew was filled with laughter. Then hubs and I spent the weekend at Cedar Point amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio. The trip was fantastic in every way, from unseasonably mild weather, to a free rental car upgrade, to my having TSA Precheck boarding passes. My Achilles tendonitis was calm enough that I could walk around without too much discomfort.

Once back home I learned that a friend I haven’t seen in about 15 years surprised the crew by arriving on Friday. I was happy everyone got to see him and I enjoyed hearing how he pulled off the surprise. (It involved dressing in costume and wandering around Pancake Pantry, the annual Friday brunch location.) But at no time did I feel remorse that I wasn’t in town. In other words, there was no FOMO. I also didn’t feel joy that I missed the visit, so there was no JOMO.

What I felt was perfect contentment. I was glad my friends had such a great time and I was equally glad hubs and I had a wonderful weekend. In other words, I felt CIMO. And for me, CIMO is just perfect.

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Snapshot Saturday: It’s Fall, Y’all!

Everyone who knows me knows I love summer blooms. The roses! The zinnias! The cosmos! The Blackeyed Susans! You get the picture. But fall ushers in a different type of gardening and landscaping and I’ve been reveling in it for the past two weekends.

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What are you doing to celebrate the season?

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Adulting Through Injury

Well, folks, I have Achilles tendonitis.

I’ve been training for an October 29 half marathon. Last week I noticed some pain while running (and walking). Thursday night during my running club meetup, things intensified to the point I was limping at the end of two miles. I decided to do something I rarely do, seek professional treatment.

My physical therapist confirmed my self-diagnosis. He punctuated it by saying it’s a pretty angry case. I’ve cleared the half marathon from my calendar. The cheapskate in me hates not running a race I’ve paid for, but this one is a charity event, so I can at least feel good about the dollars going to a worthy cause.

Per my PT’s orders, I won’t run for about 10 days (today is Day 6, but who’s counting?). I’ve been prescribed very gentle exercises and I’m getting laser treatments three times per week. Once the inflammation is calmed down I’ll receive weight training exercises to target and strengthen my calves which will support the Achilles tendons.

Once I’m cleared to start running again I am to begin at 2 miles per session and increase the mileage no more than 10% per week. The 10% a week rule is sound advice that medical professionals recommend. Come to think of it, I wasn’t following that rule during this most recent training stint. Maybe that’s why I have tendonitis now. Hmmm.

In an effort to act like an adult, I am following my PTs orders and will continue to do so when it’s time to start running again. I’m not allowing myself to shop for other half marathons until I rebuild my mileage base…safely, and following the 10% per week rule.

I’m now decidedly a “woman of a certain age.” The days of playing catch-up with my running mileage  are over. If I want to do half marathons when I’m in my 70s (and I do) I have to play it smart while in my 50s.

Playing it smart is a new concept for me, I’ll let you know how it goes.🙂



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Don’t Teach Your Child to People-Please



Yesterday after work I made my weekly trip to the grocery store. I grabbed a cart and my head was down while I searched for my grocery list. I heard a child crying and a mother telling her to “act nice.” I wasn’t paying attention; it was simply ambient noise. I heard the mom say, “You see, that lady’s staring at you because you’re acting so terrible.” I looked up and the mom was holding her daughter with outstretched arms and shoving her in my face! Caught off guard, I said, “No, actually I wasn’t staring at her. Kindly leave me out of it.”

This exchange annoyed me for several reasons.

  1. The mom was being openly dishonest to her daughter.
  2. The mom was attempting to use me to manipulate the child into behaving in a certain manner. I set boundaries when people attempt to use me.
  3. She shamed her child in front of a third party (me!).
  4. Worst of all in my opinion, the mom is teaching her toddler to be a people-pleaser. Even if I had been staring, who cares?

Google “People-Pleaser” and you’ll see countless articles designed to help a person stop the behavior. That must mean it’s a damaging trait (duh). Had I not been caught off guard, I might have told the mom that how her daughter behaves is between the two of them and is none of my business. I could have locked eyes with the little girl and given her a huge smile and a high-five. While I missed the moment, hopefully what I managed to choke out provided the mom with a hint that she doesn’t have to please everyone and neither does her daughter.

After all, Heaven knows the world will be a be a better place when we women gain the confidence we so richly deserve.



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It’s More than Just a Rose

Every Monday morning between my workout and shower, I gather flowers to arrange and place on my desk at the office. Most of the time the arrangement includes several roses. Yesterday I took one single bloom so it could take center stage.


This rose is called Dick Clark. It’s from the first rose bush I ever bought. Three years ago I was at Nashville’s annual Urban Garden Festival. I wandered into the Nashville Rose Society’s tent. I’d been toying with the idea of learning to grow roses but I’d been scared off by all of those stories of roses being difficult to grow.

While in the booth looking at all of the beautiful roses for sale, I met the nicest man, Sam Jones. Sam convinced me that I could learn to grow beautiful roses. He personally selected the Dick Clark rose bush, gave me a quick lesson in deadheading spent blooms, and told me about the Nashville Rose Society (NRS) which I later joined.

That first summer I almost killed Dick Clark due to my ignorance about proper spraying, watering, etc. But Mr. Clark soldiered on and today he’s a blooming machine.

Sam died suddenly last month after suffering a heart attack while attending an American Rose Society meeting out of state. Even before Sam’s death, I thought of him every time I saw a bloom on my Dick Clark rose bush. And now, the blooms of this particular rose bush remind me of the many ways becoming a part of the rose culture has enhanced by life.

  • My rose bed is now up to 30 plants and I’m making plans for bed #2.
  • I’ve made many new friends through my membership in the NRS.
  • I began exhibiting this year and I’ve won six blue ribbons and two reds. The district rose show is in two weeks so wish me luck!
  • I’ve become an active member of the NRS and I’m serving on the Public Relations Committee for the upcoming district rose show which our society is hosting.
  • I’ve been blessed to have enough rose blooms to share with others who are bereaved, having birthdays, living in nursing homes, or just need a surprise.

I recently received a wonderful gift. A friend reached out to me via Facebook and asked me to help her plan her first rose bed. I can’t wait to help her get started on that project. Sharing my love of roses with someone else is the best way I can think of to pay it forward in appreciation for the joys that Sam Jones gave to me.

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Snapshot Saturday and a Race Report: The Heroes in Recovery 6K

This morning I did the Heroes in Recovery 6K. Why hold a 6k rather than the traditional 5K race? The extra kilometer is in honor of the extra distance people in recovery must go to stay clean and sober. I think that’s a brilliant metaphor so I happily registered for this race. This was my first year to do this one.

I ended up walking a lot of it. I woke up not feeling well thanks to eating some ill-advised queso dip last night, (Why, Pam. Why?) And my running shoes are past their prime, giving me knee pain. I ordered a new pair earlier this week, but as of 0-dark-thirty this morning, they’d not yet arrived.

This race is held in beautiful Leiper’s Fork, Tennessee, about 45 minutes away from my home in Nashville. It is a very hilly course and one of the the prettiest short courses I’ve ever been on. My only complaint is…and this is a small one…I’m not fond of allowing dogs and baby strollers on a course.  I know I risk having hate thrown at me, but I’m entitled to my opinion. This morning, a group with stroller and a dog stopped RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME to deal with the dog that didn’t want to be on the course. Their solution was to put the dog in a compartment in the stroller. Fido was having no part of it, so they had to stop again. Thankfully I’d passed them but I could hear the commotion. There are many reasons one may have to stop during a race, but for the love of Pete, pull over to the side of the road first.

Because I was walking much of the course, I decided to take a few pictures along the way.

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I will definitely to this race again. Next year I plan to wear newer shoes and skip the queso the night before!

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Caught in the Random Act of Kindness

Yesterday while walking from the parking lot to the trail head for my three-miler, I noticed a man walking the same path carrying two large plastic jugs of water. It was a huge amount of water to take on a walk and I was curious about why he’d carry so much. As I got closer I noticed he was watering these flowers.


Afterward, he walked back to his car and drove away.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt that said, “I’m the guy who waters the flowers at the beginning of the green way.” He was just quietly doing something nice for the benefit of the rest of us. What a kind, lovely act.

What would the world be like if all of us did one little thing without fanfare, with the only goal being to make life better for others?

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Snapshot Saturday: Labor Day edition

I taught Sunday School yesterday and the lesson was about God’s magnificence. I asked my 80+ year-old students, “Do you think we pause often enough to reflect on the awesomeness of God?” Most agreed that we don’t. I had to admit that when I go to places like the Grand Canyon, God’s wonder is right there for the enjoying, but I don’t often think about it when driving to work in Nashville traffic. During today’s three-mile run on a nearby green way, I was intentional about noticing the beauty of my surroundings. While I was trying to run a little faster than normal, I slowed enough to take a few pictures.

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I’m grateful to have such a beautiful green way about a mile from my home. I hope I continue to let the scenery remind me of the Great Creator.

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Running in Americana

On Saturday I told you about my miserable, humid, six-mile run. Today I get to tell you about last night’s wonderful three-miler with my running club.

When I turned on my iPod I discovered the battery was dead. I must have hit the “on” button when I packed it, because I’d not used it since its last charge. Hubs told me I was just going to have to hum.

A funny thing happened while running without my music. I was more in tune (see what I did there) with my surroundings. I saw people on bicycles, other runners, walkers, kids on swing sets, neighbors sitting on the front steps lost in conversation and people watering their lawns. The folks I saw were from different racial and ethnic backgrounds, and the scenes were free of the vitriol I’ve been seeing on tv and online. It was so peaceful.

My thoughts turned to a friend who died a few weeks ago. Rich was a songwriter and while many of his songs are hilarious, one of his more touching works is among my favorites: “Americana.” Moe Bandy recorded it in 1993. The song’s words swirled around in my head while I ran and when I got to the 1.5 mile turnaround point I looked up and saw this.


Could that be more perfect?

I thought I’d share with you Rich’s performance of “Americana.” I was fortunate enough to be at this show. I hope you enjoy the clip.






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