The Birthday Bounty Experiment

This Thursday, December 10, marks the anniversary of yet another birthday for me. I realize, as I get older, that birthdays don't hold the excitement they did when I was young. Oh how I looked forward with great joy every December. Not only did I look forward to Santa arriving with presents; but I also got birthday gifts. It was like winning the lottery twice. I waited all year for December - by birthday and Christmas merely two weeks apart. What fun, what excitement...plus snow!

After I reached 30 (0kay, 35), my birthday somewhat lost its glamour. Sure, I enjoy receiving cards and birthday greetings from family and friends; but I often catch myself lost in thought to actually how old I am when people ask. You see, I believe that age is just a number and your actual birth age is not connected to your mind, thoughts, how you look and act, what kind of music you listen to, car you drive, seniority at your job or how fast you can walk around the block. Most people, when asked, guess me around 10 years younger than my actual age. Maybe its because most of my friends, including my partner, are younger than me; or like me, are young in spirit.

Now when I contemplate my impending birthdays, if my age is not followed by a "0", as in 40, 50, 60...I don't give it much thought. What really does it mean to be 28? 36? 48? 53? Sure, society, or rather our egos, have set deadlines. When I was in my 20s, I thought it appropriate that my annual salary match my age. When I turned 30 I was making $30,000. Check. Done. Unfortunately, today's economy would put a $30,000 salary for a 30-year old in the lower middle class band. In my 20s I dreamt of owning a BMW. This, I thought, would be the penultimate measure of my career success. Today, in my mid-40s, I drive a 7-year old Toyota with over 124,000 miles on it; have never driven a BMW and don't plan on trading my vehicle anytime soon (and it won't be for a BMW). Growing up, and probably due to watching too much television, I thought that success in life meant going to college, getting a job, finding a husband, having a couple of kids, buying a nice house in the suburbs with a couple of vehicles in the driveway. The generational fairy tale of the baby boomers. My life? go to college for one year, get married, buy a small house, quit college with one semester left, have a baby, get a divorce, finish college, date the wrong guys, find the right guy, finish grad school, buy a townhouse. Mmm...never read this in any child storybook. I digress.

I'm sure you're reading this and wondering, what is the birthday bounty experiment?

I like getting free things or sale prices. Rarely do I purchase clothes, books or music unless they are on sale. I even negotiated the price of the furniture we bought new for our townhouse (much to the amazement of K. who never knew you could negotiate furniture - you do this for cars, right?). So, I sign up for emails, text alerts, Facebook groups, and twitter from retail stores that I like to visit. Companies are getting very net-savvy and social marketing is sweeping the country. Companies want to stay connected to you and love when you opt-in for their emails; oftentimes they ask for the month and date of your birthday as a way of enticing you to shop and buy more.

The emails and mailings for my 'birthday bounty' started arriving the first of December. Most of these 'gifts' are good for the month which is great for me. Not only will I partake of some of them (love to go to Caribou Coffee on my birthday for my free drink!), but I also use the incentives to purchase Christmas gifts for friends and family. So far, my birthday bounty consists of:

• Free drinks at Dunn Brothers and Caribou Coffee
• Free dessert at Buca di Peppo
  
• Free hamburgers at Lions Tap and Ruby Tuesday
• 15% off at Anthropologie
• $15 off at JCPenney
• 20% off Lane Bryant
• Free Shimmer Lip Gloss trio at Sephora

Sure, I understand that by offering me a free drink at Caribou, the company hopes I buy my favorite cinnamon sugar donut as well; or the free lip gloss trio at Sephora will be partnered with the purchase of matching OPI nail polish; and who can eat a hamburger without french fries and a diet coke?

I won't partake of all the birthday offers I have received. And thankfully, these companies don't know my age. I don't need a BMW or a house with a picket fence, I get to go to Lions Tap and get a free hamburger. Now that's success.

Holiday Rituals

I have many fond memories of holidays - Thanksgiving and Christmas especially. Halloween never really meant much to me. Sure, I'd go trick or treating in a homemade 'gypsy' costume made each year from leftover clothes I found in my mom's closet. Halloween ended abruptly for me when I was 11; not due to my age so much as to my height - I was already 5'7" and when adults opened the door I was told I was "too old" and should leave the candy for the young kids. I haven't worn a costume since 1973.

The remaining holidays - Valentine's, Easter, 4th of July, Labor Day - never held any significance in our family. No rituals surrounded these dates except for the ritual of laziness. Having a Monday, Friday or day during the week off was holiday enough - no need for extra celebration.

But Thanksgiving and Christmas held specific rituals and importance in our family. Both of these holidays were equally shared between my parent's families; down to the time of eating, raisins in the stuffing (only on my mom's side), prayers said, games played, naps taken.

I've always been fond of rituals, which is probably why I enjoyed attending Catholic Mass for so many years - until I realized the ritual of Mass and the ritual of Eucharist wasn't enough to sustain my participation. Holiday rituals are important and I believe a vital component of a child's upbringing. Rituals form memories and memories are one of building blocks of a healthy mental attitude. Betsy Taylor states “Rituals give kids a sense of security in a fast-moving, unpredictable world, as well as memories they will cherish a lifetime.”

The holiday rituals our family celebrated formed memories for me that I reflect on, especially during this time of the year. Though my childhood sometimes had more 'downs' then 'ups' it is the memory of the many family gatherings I cherish and remember the most.

My son recently turned 20 and we just celebrated Thanksgiving together - it was our 5th Thanksgiving together. My ex-husband and I divorced when our son was 3 and for the next 15 years the two of them celebrated turkey day with my ex's family. Since starting college in Minnesota two years ago, my son now joins us for Thanksgiving. Throughout his first 18 years, the three of us celebrated Christmas together and enjoyed the ritual of Christmas Eve church service, my son and I sitting next to each other in a pew singing along with the choir, which his dad still sings in. We then would go to my home for a relaxing Christmas Eve dinner while our son anxiously waited to open his presents. Oftentimes we drove around the neighborhood looking at all the beautiful and colorful holiday lights. These are our son's memories; our son's rituals. Though our son is a product of divorce, we came together as a family at Christmas (along with sporting events, school activities, choir concerts, doctor appointments...).

My son was here for Thanksgiving weekend but I won't see him until January. In a few weeks after finishing finals, he'll travel west 600 miles to his dad's home and spend the Christmas holiday. I'll miss him on Christmas; miss his excitement in opening gifts; in digging into homemade chex mix; in giving me a warm hug. But I know where he'll be on Christmas Eve...sitting in a church pew, singing carols while his father is in the choir on stage. After church, they'll go home and have something nice to eat and open gifts. Though the three of us may not be together this year, I know the holiday ritual we started 20 years ago still continues.

Thankfulness

Why is it, around the time of Thanksgiving and the holidays, when we reflect on all we are thankful for? Whenever I check my Facebook account lately, every few status updates starts with "I am thankful for...". Now I am not implying that this is wrong, untimely or inappropriate.

Quite the contrary. I'm simply questioning why we, as participants in society, aren't thankful and show our thankfulness...our appreciation...our gratitude to those around us every day?

One of the personality qualities, or rather deficits, I deplore is rudeness. Rudeness for not saying 'thank you', even for the simplest of gifts or offerings that others give us. When I started kindergarten, my mother sent me off to school every day saying, "make sure you say please and thank you to your teacher and the lunch ladies". I always did, and the lunch ladies always smiled gently at me whenever I thanked them. I grew up in the generation where we revered those adults that taught us, served us, preached to us, guided us. I grew up in the generation where I learned to appreciate the small things people did for me, the small presents I received. For in my childhood, these were the things that meant the most. And they still are.

I sometimes forget to be grateful, to be thankful. It's not out of rudeness, but rather unawareness, not being present with the here and now. Not paying attention to those things another has done for me, or others.

I am present today; am present now; and I am thankful...and to all who I have not shown or communicated my gratitude and appreciation, thank you. Thank you.

Lipstick Whore

Okay, I admit to being full-on girl. I like to wear make-up, jewelry, nice clothes, have my nails done, my hair colored and change purses (usually weekly). My biggest obsession? Make-up, specifically lipstick.

Can a girl really ever have too much make-up? Perhaps. My first foray into cosmetics was at the age of 11. My mother, finally, after much pleading, or perhaps exhaustion from constant nagging, allowed me to purchase eyeshadow and lip gloss. I was so excited. I took some hard earned babysitting money, went to the neighborhood drug store and quickly bought cream eyeshadow in a green that looked like forest moss and lip gloss resembling (and tasting) a bit like strawberry jelly. I was in heaven. When I put my finger in the small pots the first time I felt like I was a painter, nervously and carefully placing my index finger with the green goop on my eyelid, making sure to 'stay within the lines' and not make too much of a mess. Today, with an ever steady hand and many more steps in the process, I apply make-up with almost perfect precision and can put on a 'full face' in less than 5 minutes.

I love everything there is about cosmetics - the wide range of colors, especially for lips, eyes and nails (who knew GREEN would ever touch a fingernail?), the shimmer effects of purple eyeshadow, the new high-definition foundation (just purchased). Last count, I own approximately 50 tubes of lipstick/gloss. My brand favorites are from Chanel, OPI and MAC. The varying hues of red are my favorite though the color range is broad from the faintest nude (usually worn on the weekends when I wear the least make-up) to an almost black red, when I'm feeling a bit more dramatic. Sephora and Ulta are like candy stores to me, the Chanel and MAC counters at Macy's on Michigan Avenue in Chicago have me on their mailing list, and I receive weekly emails from Estee Lauder. My bathroom drawers and linen closet are filled with a wide range of brands and products...girlfriends who visit me know exactly where to go for their 'touch-up' and help themselves to my own personal make-up counter. And it is well organized with lipsticks in their own holders organized by brand, eye shadows and liners in a plastic file drawer, perfumes occupy two plastic lazy susans and cleansing products in one drawer.

I don't even want to think of the amount of money I have spent on cosmetics over the past 30+ years - probably enough to purchase a very nice new automobile - not a Mercedes, but perhaps a Ford Focus. Oh well, the money could have gone to far worse habits....like smoking or gambling.

My mother never wore much make-up, she didn't need to. Mom had a beautiful complexion, and great features...but she always wore lipstick. I have aptly followed suit and never leave home without lipstick on, often reapplying over the length of the day.

I have to admit I'm a bit envious of women who wear little, if any, make-up and look fresh and fabulous. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to wear foundation to cover my acne scars and sun damage (too much of a sun bunny in my teens), or put mascara on to make me look a bit more awake. But there is one thing I won't give up...that's right, lipstick.

Trying to Find the News

My first entree into marketing and advertising was working for the Rapid City Journal (RCJ) (http://www.rapidcityjournal.com) in Rapid City, South Dakota as an advertising representative. One of the 'perks' was daily delivery, free of charge, of the newspaper. I have always been an ardent reader and took time each day to read the paper. Though the RCJ is not the size of a major city newspaper, it does a fairly decent job of covering national and local news interspersed with major world news. In addition to reading the daily paper, I also watched the nightly news, priding myself on having a basic knowledge of world and political affairs, who won the Monday night football game, and what the weather was going to be like on the weekend.

Fast forward 20 years and I am news-challenged. Yes, I know we have military in Iraq and Afghanistan; the MN Vikings have a 7-1 record; the NY Yankees won the World Series (and I'm not even a bonafide sports fan!); Hillary Clinton is the Secretary of State; and it's going to be in the 50s this week weather-wise. What have I missed? A lot it seems. I missed the great tragedy at Ft. Hood, TX last week of the mindless massacre of 13 innocent people (plus injured) until my son told me this past weekend. I have not kept up with the healthcare debate now moving to the Senate nor do I understand the potential current and future impact on my family's healthcare coverage. I forgot that tomorrow is Veteran's Day. I didn't know we had a city election last week or worse yet, who was running and what referendums were up for a vote. Even writing this makes me anxietous. Perhaps too much news causes me too much stress.

Most people who know me may be surprised to find that I am not keeping up with current events and instead am living in a world occupied by information via such random social media as twitter, facebook, hotmail, outlook, google and bing. Thank gosh I receive, via email, headlines each day from bing news (http://www.bing.com/) though the headlines consist of only 5 to 6 random national news stories. I do subscribe to the Sunday edition of the Minneapolis Star Tribune, and though I feel it lacks hard hitting editorial news (they recently announced the cutting of 100 staff members; 30 in the newsroom), at least I know what the Target promotions are for the week and can get my weekly dose of $0.50 off Pringle and Dove chocolate coupons.

I seem much calmer lately...thank God for Pringles and dark chocolate.

Transitions

For the past 9 years I have been going to school and working full-time. After the first year of working and going to school I got into a rhythm, sometimes with much effort, where my life was dictated, not by my choices, but rather by the due dates of papers, exams, work responsibilities along with mom responsibilities. Sometimes I felt I had no 'me' time; no time to do those things I wanted to do like write more, read more 'fun' books (not textbooks), take an art class, really get into a television series, spend more time with family and friends.

During the last year of graduate school my thoughts often strayed to the transition from full-time work and school to just full-time work. What would I do with the 'extra' time? What were my weekends going to be like since I wouldn't be speed reading hundreds of pages, writing a 2o-page paper or interning at an academic library? My mind traveled through an encyclopedia of choices, which at times felt very foreign to me. All of a sudden, in August of this year, I would be done with graduate school. Done with school. Forever. I think. Really? Instead of feeling elated and relieved, feelings of sadness and grief and even a bit of anxiety started creeping into my psyche.

Some people are ecstatic when they finish their academic career - be it high school, trade school or college. Me...I love school. I love to learn, to be educated, and all things connected - yes, that even means researching and writing papers, reading textbooks that at times make you want to take a long nap, and preparing for exams that cause you to lose sleep wondering if you passed. I've always liked school. So am I REALLY done with school? Perhaps in the 'formal' sense, yes. I've had to finance every credit, book, and pencil of my college education and unfortunately simply cannot afford to pursue a PhD. Maybe one day I can start again, but I'm on a break and it may be a permanent break from college.

While contemplating what I would do after graduating this summer, my thoughts went to creative pursuits. I've always wanted to write more. After taking a couple of writing workshops on memoir I desire to take a deep dive into this writing genre but feel I wasn't ready in the fall after completing a heavy year of coursework writing. Woodworking? No - I have a fear of power tools. Beer making? Interesting, but I'm not a big beer drinker. Salsa Dancing? Though I admit I need to exercise, stumbling over my feet and flying on the floor doesn't sound very fun - especially in front of a group of people. Painting? Mmmmm. My aunt S. is an oil painter and does beautiful work. Maybe genetically some talent would pass down to me. I registered at the Hopkins Community Center for 'Acrylic Painting' in September. Cost: $80. Experience needed: None. Supplies: small list; low cost. Done.

Little did I know that a 2-1/2 hour weekly class (with a net cost of $10/week) is worth 4 sessions with a therapist (at $120/hr). Not only have I learned painting and color techniques (who knew you could make a myriad of colors with only 4 tubes of paint?), but I've also learned to let myself go artistically, let myself make mistakes, let my feelings and emotions flow on canvas, let myself relax. With one week left, I am already missing my Monday evening painting class. Lucky for me, registration for winter quarter starts soon.

This week I finished my first painting - an impressionistic landscape titled "Prairie Horizon". My painting instructor wants me to put the painting in the Potpourri show starting in December. I think I will. I started my second painting and am already thinking of future ideas. I have learned much during the 8-week class and tonight purchased a couple of books on painting techniques and tricks. I can't wait to read them.

I may be done with college; but I am never done learning.

Finding the Holy

I woke up early this morning - early for Seattle; mid-morning for home in Minneapolis. A wet, gray, cloudy Seattle morning. Probably not unlike a lot of mornings here. I like rain. For me, rain is a cleansing of sorts - I feel baptized in a sense. Rain cleans the air, cleans the street, clears the clouds that occupy the sky sometimes too often occupy my mind. After quickly dressing, I left the warm confines of our room and headed downstairs to a small restaurant and slid into a booth; ordered a glorious pot of hot tea and a warm scone and read the daily paper. And I actually READ the paper; not skimmed the headlines which is my usual modus operandi having little time to absorb all the information placed on the pages. A headline quickly caught my eyes - "'Holy' moments surround us" by Dean Nelson (USA TODAY).

My spiritual life, is, to say the least, currently in transition. Or rather in contemplation. I am an oblate of St. Martin Monastery (www.blackhillsbenedictine.com/oblates.php). An oblate is one who forms a commitment to Benedictine spirituality that is given unconditionally from the heart, that needs to be cultivated in "good and bad" days. I admit to being much more diligent in my role (or responsibility) as an oblate years back, but since moving to Minnesota have struggled.

There are seven ancient sacraments that organized Christianity has recognized for thousands of years: Baptism, Holy Orders, Confession, Confirmation, Marriage, Extreme Unction, and Eucharist. Growing up Catholic, I have experienced 5 of the 7. The point of Nelson's article is that one doesn't have to experience the sacraments in a church or in front of a priest (or clergy); but rather in those moments when we share ourselves with others. Nelson asks "haven't we all been part of conversations where they somehow take on a deeper dimension, even though it's just two people talking?".

For 5 years I went to a spiritual director (a Benedictine nun) at St. Martin Monastery. A loving, gracious, knowledgable nun who reminds me of my paternal grandmother; Sr. M awoke in me the spiritual, the holy. Before I started spiritual direction I was an empty, lonely vessel. It is often said that those going through spiritual direction should be prepared for your life to take a 360 degree turn. Mine did; radically. My life did a complete turnaround. Relationships changed, some died, some grew. I changed.

I no longer attend church or go to any religious celebrations. I do pray everyday - and share my feelings and thoughts with those people closest in my life. These are my holy moments. I relish in the time I spend with family and friends sharing my feelings, listening to theirs. It never occurred to me that these are holy moments. Perhaps my spiritual life is in transition but is moving towards what it was always meant to be - in the holy of now.

Vacation

It's almost midnight on Friday evening. "Officially" the start of a weeklong vacation. Merriam-Webster (http://www.merriam-webster.com) defines a vacation as:

• a time of respite from something
• a period of exemption from work granted to an employee
• a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation

Check, check, check. I'm doing all three, though I have to admit that the 2nd bullet point sounds a bit 'clinical'. Am I actually granted an exemption from work? Gee, and I thought paid time off was earned; not granted.

I don't remember the last time I took a week's vacation and actually went somewhere I've never been. We're headed west to Seattle, WA. The city of Seattle has always been on my travel list (in my mind; never written down) and all I've heard are great things. Albeit the city is wrapped in rain a lot and it is supposed to rain while we're there; I don't really care. I'm not traveling for the weather; I'm going on a vacation. And it probably doesn't matter where we're going, just that we are.

The biggest thing I fear about vacation is just when I'm starting to relax, unwind, remove work stress from my mind, it will be Monday, November 2 - the day I go back to work. Perhaps the Europeans have it right - I understand they get much more vacation than we do in the U.S. My previous employer gave us a whole two weeks a year - for vacation AND sick time AND personal time. Gee, how nice. Now I get 4 weeks, of which I'm thankful.

Some people plan their vacations to the hour - enjoying being a tourist and visiting every attraction and souvenir shop. Not us. We have no plans - we're going to wing it. Of course there are things we like to do on vacation - visit local restaurants, museums, people watch - but's that's the fun of vacation - take the time off - take a respite - but don't plan much. We're not only giving our bodies a vacation; but we're also giving our minds a vacation.

We're granting ourselves a respite...and that's what's really important.

Three Precious Women

June 16, 1993. I'm not good at remembering dates - don't ask me when World War I started or ended; what years Lincoln was President; or when I had my first "boy" date. But I will always remember June 16, 1993, the day my mother died. She had just turned 52 a month before and was too young, way too young, to die. I was 30. A numb, angry, resentful, sad 30-year old soon-to-be-divorced, mother of a 3-year old, scared daughter. My mother was a gorgeous (former "Miss Shakopee" (MN)), caring, loving, generous woman who cared deeply for her family; sometimes far too deeply. Brain cancer struck her 18 months before she died. Right on time. After the initial diagnosis and surgery, all I remember the surgeon saying is that mom had 12-18 months. He offered no explanation, no condolences. We had mom for 18 months - thru two brain surgeries, partial paralysis and the last weeks of her life in hospice, mom fought the cancer as bravely and strongly as she could.

I miss my mom...sometimes it still hurts, like she died yesterday. The ache never quite goes away. I miss my mom when I look into my son's eyes; sad that he never really knew his grandma.

January 4, 2008. I remember this date as well. The date my dear grandmother V. passed away. She lived 92 long, wonderful years. Grandma lit up a room when she came in - her ruby red lips always smiling, her blue eyes sparkling. I miss her hugs. I miss the smell of her perfume. I miss her asking how everything is going - and her really wanting to know.

October 20, 2009. Today. A day like most others. I'm thinking of my grandma L. A spry and independent soon-to-be 91-year old. We went to an apple farm on Sunday and decorated her house with Halloween decorations. At 91, grandma can still get on her hands and knees to grab the Halloween decorations from the bottom of the linen closet. I helped but didn't get up as fast as she could. At 91 grandma is more flexible than me...I better make a New Year's resolution this year to start yoga again.

My mother and two grandmothers are the women who have surrounded and loved me during my life. They've taught me to love learning, finish school, take risks, take care of my baby son, take care of myself. I've grown into the independent, self-reliant woman I am today from the life lessons three precious women have taught me. I may not be good at remembering dates but I will always have the memories of a life consumed by the love of three very special women. I am a mother yet I will always remain a daughter and granddaughter.

Photos from Renee

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Before it Breaks

Brandi Carlile (http://www.brandicarlile.com/) is one of my favorite singer songwriters. I've seen her perform live 6 times in the past three years. Brandi hails from the Seattle, WA area but her biggest market for record sales and concert goers is Minneapolis. The first time I saw Brandi Carlile was at a not sold-out show at the Varsity Theater in Dinkeytown; the last time 3 weeks ago at one of the 2-night sold-out (in 2 hours) concerts at the O'Shaughnessy Auditorium in St. Paul. How far she has come in 3 years; and all at the young age of 26.

Her new CD, Give Up The Ghost, has a beautiful song title "Before it Breaks". Eloquently written and beautifully sung, the languid song and emotional lyrics are about a relationship in trouble..."say it's over, say I'm dreamin', say I'm better than you left me, say you're sorry I can take it, say you love me, say you don't, I can make my own mistakes...let it bend before it breaks".

The lyrics remind me of an essay I recently read about a marriage in trouble...after 20 years of marriage the husband wanted 'out'. There was no affair, no money problems, no job problems...the husband fell out of love and wanted out. His wife didn't give. Instead she told him to take his time and figure it out. Just figure it out. She wasn't going to leave him or their marriage. After 6 months their marriage healed; he healed. His wife did bend so their marriage didn't break.

Perhaps there is a lesson in waiting things out; not giving up. Fighting for what we believe. Fighting for believing in ourselves; in others; in our relationships. Maybe we bend too much but maybe not enough. Breaking something is permanent; bending allows for a return to what was or what can be. I'm going to let it bend before it breaks.

Where is the Time?

Anyone that knows me knows that I've had a few jobs in my lifetime so far. No excuses, no specific reasons...I changed jobs for a variety of reasons: less money, but wanted the work experience; change of scenery; change of location; better opportunity to be mentored; better opportunity to learn; better opportunity to not be bored.

There were quite a few jobs where I would stare at the bottom right-hand corner of my desktop computer and watch the minutes go by...3:32 PM, 4:17 PM; 4:53 PM...could't wait until 5:00 PM and I was outta there. Mostly due to boredom. Well, not anymore. Now I hardly have time to be aware of the time; sometimes I forget which day of the week it is. I'm concentrating now and thinking that's it's Wednesday already..."hump day" as it is fondly called. I guess my week is 'downhill' from here on out; not really since Friday's have always been my favorite day of the week.

Which brings me to the discussion of TIME in general. Asked how someone is and I commonly hear "I'm busy". What does 'busy' mean? Busy with work, with a project, with your kids, hobbies, cleaning your house? Seems we are ALL busy. I'd prefer to not be so busy. To find the balance of time is a challenge. Work can easily take 50% of our day - from the time we get up out of bed, shower, travel to work, enjoy the work day and travel home. An easy 6am to 6pm kind of day. Add in an average of 8 hours of sleep and you are given a 'net' of 4 hours per day for personal activities which many times involve cooking and cleaning, driving kids, and writing blogs! (if you're lucky).

It is now 8:31PM on my computer clock...counting down the time until bedtime and all the things I still want to do tonight but know won't get done. I need more time. Perhaps an 8-day week; or 4-day work week....I think I'll spend some time thinking about this.

Be well....Renee

First Blog - Autumn is here!

Greetings and welcome to my first blog!! This has been on my "to do" list for quite some time and I'm now happy to be able to start writing. I don't know where 2009 has gone but I can't believe it's October. Summer was a whirl...graduate exams, a job promotion and moving. And it was the l.o.n.g.e.s.t. move every...took 4 weeks to unpack - couldn't believe it! But we're settled and really enjoying our new home. I graduated in August with a MS in Library & Information Science from the University of North Texas specializing in information science - areas of information architecture, data organization and management.

I'm most excited this fall and thankful for many reasons. Cooper started his sophomore year at Minnesota State University, I'm taking a painting class and starting to knit again, we're settled in our new home, my job is going well and I have a great group of friends. I hope to add interesting tidbits, information and general 'catch-up' to this blog. Stay tuned.