Of Dancing

This past Friday, Greg and I started taking ballroom dancing lessons. It only took 5ish years to convince him (even our wedding wasn't much of a motivating factor) but proves the saying "If at first you don't succeed; try, try again".

We signed up. And so inspired 2 of our neighbors that they and their spouses signed up too. And off we went to our first night.

When we arrived, we had to wait outside as the last class finished up Salsa lessons. As they all filed out, one guy was near to staggering, and he took a deep, shaky breath and admonished our group: "Prepare yourselves, it's brutal in there". I could feel fear start to creep into the hearts of our men. But, we as women were undaunted, and we led them to the dance floor to commence with our training.

We started off with the two step, and aside from the fact that I was using my hand-hold on Greg's right arm to attempt steering him around the dance floor, that went really well. . . until the dance instructor saw what I was doing and quickly admonished me and then made the whole class do an exercise in posture and resistance in you ballroom 'stance'. Chagrined, I made more of an effort to follow, and not lead, but by then we were learning the tango and I could barely keep up, let alone boss the situation around. Greg had a rather difficult move that involved him turning around me, while I stepped in between his legs, and then we both do another turn, and end up going back the same way we were coming from.

It looks amazing, but is difficult. And when both of you as dance partners are rather tall, you tend to make up a lot of ground practicing this move.

And so we started lapping people left and right - careening down the dance floor one way, my cheeks flapping in the wind as Greg whipped me around and I felt the awesome power of G-forces, and then it was back down the other way with much the same speed and length of stride. I could see the fear on our friends faces as we bore down on them, and as they anticipated our approach they would lose focus on their own steps and stomp on a few toes. Before you knew it we were back down the other side of the floor, terrorizing complete strangers, most of whom would not stand their ground and choose instead to scatter in front of us like frightened chickens.

It was awe-inspiring to feel the power our tango had on the group and not even the dance instructors could put us on the right track - we were a Force Unstoppable by mere man.

We were a giggling Force Unstoppable by man.

And afterwards the 6 of us went out and had some beers and dinner, and recounted the harrowing tales of trying to dance together as couples, and the strange parallels it bore to an actual relationship. Who was willing to lead, who was willing to follow, who could hold their posture with resistance, who was a limp noodle....and I think it's a good thing we're all taking this class together. Perhaps all young couples should be required to work together in this manner.

Either way, we're all looking forward to this coming Friday, when we get to learn 4 more sequence of steps, and hopefully, are a bit better (and maybe slower) than we were last week.

Of Walking into Doors

I'm in Orlando for some new employee orientation with my company. It's not been much of a picnic. I was supposed to stay for 3 extra days to hang out with a family member who has been having a rough go of it lately, and at the last minute plans went up into the air...and stayed that way for 2 days. I finally had to call and see what was going on...and was told to rebook my flight and leave 3 days early because the family member could no longer see me.

So I did. And by re-booking I threw corporate at my job into a tizzy because I have to pay about $150 to change the ticket...but they're unsure of how to get that money back into their account.

So they've been on the phone, and I've been on the phone, and I've been on the email, and sending emails, and somewhere in there actually getting oriented on what it means to be an employee here....

And today, on a break, while I was talking on the phone I disinterestedly watched one of my fellow new employees head outside for a smoke break. But, something amazing happened here. Rather than take one of the obvious doors, he went straight for the window with the etched 'M' in it between the doors, and then, rather than putting his hands in front of him to push the door that wasn't there...he instead just walked full-tilt right into the window.

And fell back dazed and confused as to how this had all just happened. Not to mention embarressed that he was sitting on his butt in the lobby rather than outside where he had intended to be.

And rather than laughing at him (though it was a bit funny), I quickly turned away so he wouldn't know I had seen his blunder...because I felt a pang of empathy with him. In that one move he had summed up my whole Florida trip.

And I'm ready to go home.

Living Life Deliberately

There's something about living deliberately that is very, very difficult. I had some moments of clarity on vacation those few weeks ago, and one of them was about some sort of a purposeful life. Getting to work at a specific time, every day, tracking how much time I spent watching TV, how cooking once again was slipping into a 'whatever will take less then 20 minutes' mode, how I was missing all my outside time now that the weather is warming up...those sorts of things.

As Janet Luhrs says:
"Simple living is about living deliberately. That's all. You choose your existence rather than sailing through life on automatic pilot."

And I've felt very much on auto-pilot these last few months.

So the first course of action was to begin waking up at 4:00am consistantly, so we could be at work by 5:30, and be able to leave by 3:00, leaving plenty of time in the evening for dinner, yardwork, conversation, and the VERY occasional television show - such as Heroes or House. This has also included going to be at 9:00pm every night to ensure plenty of sleep is had before the next work day.

We're now into 14 out of the standard 21 days to make something a habit, and it's getting much easier to roll out of bed when that alarm goes off. Going to bed promptly is still something of a challenge, but it's happening (it's the falling asleep part that's difficult), and life is becoming much more ordered.

I've been a bit surprised by how much time we're getting back by doing this. Even the simple act of going to work early cuts our commuting time down by a half hour each way - a full hour each day reclaimed, not to mention all the TV time that has been regained as well.

Though it's not felt great some days - for the most part it's been amazing how much things change when you decide to be purposeful, and then resolutely stick to it. Even when there are plenty of reasons why you don't have to.

Of Gardening and Spring

I love to shop. I suppose I'm much of a typical girl in that sense, I can spend hours and hours and hours browsing, looking, touching, and perhaps even eventually buying.

When I wasn't in my conference in New Orleans last month, I spent every free minute walking and shopping all throughout the French Quarter. I just love it.

Two of my favorite things to buy are books and plants, and now that spring has finally arrived in Colorado, I have started purchasing plants with reckless abandon. My planter boxes overfloweth, my mini whiskey barrel is a work of art and my hanging basket is all a-froth with pink flowers. My back garden is the repository for all things bulbs, and seeds and though they are growing....the thing about this form of plant-life is that it takes a while for them to come into their own and really take off.

Like maybe a year or two.

And honestly, who has that kind of time with nothing else in between?!

So last night when we went to Home Depot, as I was browsing for 2 more packs of petunias for the flower boxes. . . I found them. Bright pinks, oranges and yellow Nordic Poppies....called Champagne Bubbles.

I couldn't resist. They went in my cart, as did some Geraniums and Sweet William. Greg sighed and shook his head as we went to check out, another $30 to the backyard...but I was excited. Many girls like shopping for shoes and clothes and other things that stay in their house where no one can see them...but in the summer my garden is something to see, something that brings beauty and life to the Prairie around us.

And I'm rather proud of that.

An Article on my Brother's Platoon

I have a Google news alert for the 82nd Airborne. Anything having to do with the 82nd that crosses the news wires goes straight to my inbox. I like to keep an ear out for anything that may have to do with my brother (the one on the right in this picture).

This morning, I had a notification, and found this amazing article that is all about my brother's platoon!!!! It really doesn't get any more specific than this. My brother is from Company D, 2nd Battalion, 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 4th Brigade Combat Team, 82nd Airborne Division....and the guy Cox, who is interviewed is one of his good friends!!!!

So my morning was very cheered. Though you have a general idea of what the guys are doing there (fighting the war, eating, sleeping, waiting for packages, etc....) this gives such a great glimpse into something that's their every day life. Something that isn't full of death.

So, this morning, here's to my brother and all the amazing things they're doing over there - including revamping their FOB!

Of Grasshoppers, Gardening, and Cell Phones

I was out in my garden yesterday, attempting to pull out all the weeds that grew voraciously in the 3 or so weeks that I was gone. My little calico, Cider, enjoys gardening with me, rolling around in the dirt or laying on some weed to protect it against my vicious onslaught (she likes the shade, and my real plants right now are still puny). So that’s what we were doing, I was pulling, she was guarding.

Then my brother called, and we talked for a minute. In that minute, I pulled a weed that had a Biblical-sized grasshopper on it. The grasshopper flew across our lawn, and Cider took off after it. In an amazing show of speed and acrobatics, she jumped up, clasped it between her two paws, and did a somersault hanging on to her prize as she skidded to a stop. Pinning it to the ground, she lifted a paw to check and see what it looked like…and didn’t see anything at all.

At this point my phone, or my brother’s phone cut out – and the call dropped. Cider was meowing desperately trying to find her prize, so I went over to scare it up. Holding the phone in one hand, I bent over on the grass searching for this grasshopper, and didn’t see it. I bent lower, the phone dangled, forgotten, between Cider and I as we scrutinized the grass. I timidly brushed my hand over the lawn, not wanting to touch the monstrous grasshopper…but where did it go?

It was during this tense moment that my brother decided to call back.

My phone was on the ‘Wake the Neighbors’ setting (I had just been out on my bike), and the cacophony of noise that ensued as we were looking for Monstrous Grasshopper was enough to make me jump and drop the phone, Cider poofed out to 3 times her normal size in an attempt to scare off our Thunderous Attacker, and Grasshopper decided to make an appearance at that moment leaping out at me from under cover of long grass.

I’ve never had that much adrenaline run through my veins before. It’s a wonder my heart didn’t stop.

At moments like that – you (and your embarrassed cat) are grateful there was no one there to see you be a complete ninny….and then wishing that perhaps someone had…you blog about it.

Havasu Falls

This is the amazing picture we captured from the experience. It was beautiful, otherworldly even.

What you don’t see are the hikers behind this picture.

Greg and I were exhausted. Tired of stopping for breaks, we had put our heads down and stumbled on ahead of our group, desperate to get to camp and take off our shoes so we could assess the damage that was so easily felt on our now blister-encased feet. I was close to throwing up, it was around 100 degrees, my shirt was soaked, I didn’t have much left to give, and Greg was in much the same state. We had finally reached the bottom of the Grand Canyon, after a 10 mile hike, which wouldn’t have been that hard if it weren’t for the 40 and 60 lb packs (respectively), the constant downhill (3,000 foot elevation drop total) and the sand that sucked the energy out of you. We had just come around a corner, and our hearts dropped because it was yet another steep, sandy, loose-rock encrusted hill, and we still couldn’t see the campsite.

Then Greg looked up and over, and gaped. I shuffled/slid over to him, and asked what was wrong, then I looked at what he was staring at, and saw this.

And for almost a whole minute we had nothing to say.

It’s amazing how beauty can eclipse pain and frustration, and completely captivate you regardless of surrounding circumstances.