Happy All The Time 

Oakland Children’s Hospital

One day after I got home from taking my daughter to college, my younger daughter called me from soccer practice, and told me she had to go to the Emergency Room. She had collided with another player, heard her knee pop and snap, and asked that I come immediately to the Mustang field in Danville to get her. 

As I am calm in these situations, my friend and I packed up dinner for her, and five hours later we were relieved to find no broken bones. She has a high pain tolerance, and calmly sat in the ER waiting room, eating a plate of salmon, salad and couscous. Because of this, and other reasons, I honestly thought she would be fine. However, subsequent trips to the Pediatrician, the Orthopedist, and MRI facilities at Children’s Hospital proved otherwise. 

Torn miniscus, severed ACL, two surgeries, four months on crutches, nine month recovery. And just like that it was over. Twelve years of soccer practice, games, and tryouts. 

Will she ever play again? We don’t know. It’s hard to imagine her not playing, but it will, of course, be up to her. I will support any decision she makes.

It’s taken a little while to see the silver lining on this one. 

Yet, we’ve had a good bit of fun lying in bed watching movies, she plays all her favorite songs for me, and makes me watch funny videos on Instagram. 

Of course, I’m waiting on her, making her favorite food, and hovering over her like she’s two years old again. Just like grade school, I make her lunch and drive her to school and then, I pick her up again.  

We horse around in all the waiting rooms of the doctor visits. We laugh. We take funny videos of ourselves and send them to Paris in LA, she teaches me to use Snapchat, and I become an expert at this. 

Now, Siena’s friends are at my house because Siena can no longer walk. I’m home again, and have long stretches of time to work, or rest. The hectic pace of the last year has been replaced with a calm and tranquil slowness. She will eventually heal. She has an amazing surgeon, and all will be well.

Happiness is a choice. You have to choose it and you have to fight for it.

Love and blessings to all. 

The Evolution Is Now 


Dear Friends,

Please join me in launching our company OCEAN SF. Our signature jacket is not just a product, but an evolution. This jacket replaces your current mid layer polyester fleece with a warm, sustainable, all natural technical garment that will be the last mid layer jacket you will ever buy.  

Every time a polyester fleece jacket is washed up to 250,000 plastic microfibers shed into our water system. Much of this does not get filtered by municipal water utilities and ends up in both the ocean and even our drinking water!  

OCEAN SF is a performance sailing apparel company, and is focused on using natural fibers, especially Merino Wool, and state of the art fabric milling technologies to create adventure gear with a higher calling. Their real aim is to stop the plastic pollution that comes from clothing, and they are holding no bars.

For centuries sailors have looked to wool to keep them warm even when they get wet. Now OCEAN SF has combined the material benefits of wool with state-of-the-art fabric milling technologies. Our textiles themselves are very sophisticated. We’ve been able to weave and knit multiple textures into a single piece of cloth. The interior side is meant to trap air between the garment and user’s skin to keep them warm, the outside is meant to be a bit more rugged and resilient.

We believe that our jackets couldn’t come at a better time because it has recently been determined that the standard “polyester fleece” jacket pollutes up to 250,000 plastic microfibers into our water system every time it is washed. Recent studies conclude that not only does the deep ocean contain a great deal of plastic microfiber pollution BUT ALSO that 94% of tested drinking water in the US contains plastic microfibers. We’re literally drinking our plastic clothes. We believe that natural fibers, especially our high-performance, highly technical merino wool garments can make a huge difference in the quest to shift this paradigm. We aim to prove the performance of merino wool, and in so doing we hope to catalyze a major shift away from polyester garments.

Join us in sharing our vision of wearing natural fabrics in a natural world. We currently have our cotton T-shirts and signature jackets for sale on our website at OCEAN SF.

Our signature jacket:

Custom Milled Luxurious Merino Wool

  • Made in California
  • Superior Design
  • Beautiful Fit

“My Ocean SF jacket is the only jacket I ever wear. It’s warm, comfortable and I love the long zippered sleeves!” – Tom Dryja, Sailing Instructor, OCSC, Berkeley, CA 

Our wool fabric is being milled now, and we will start sewing soon. Quantities are limited, so order now at OCEAN SF for delivery in late 2017.

Thank you to everyone for your love and support as we have built and launched this company. We look forward to bringing you beautiful, sustainable, and the most loved adventure clothing in the world.

Love and Blessings to all.

Sydney 

Sydney Ann Chaney-Thomas

Girls & Body Image

My daughter Paris has been wicked smart since birth, but her writing is where she really shines.

She has given me permission to share this draft of a paper she’s writing for a class called, Body Image and the Media.  Her writing on this topic is stunning, and she has some interesting insight into body image in the big state of Texas.  

Good Body

by Paris Thomas

PREFACE

Growing up in an affluent neighborhood of the Bay Area, standards about beauty, intelligence, and success were always suffocating. When I was six years old, my parents gave me a Stanford University sweatshirt and told me that this was the school they knew I would get into and end up at because I was always bright as a kid. This was the beginning of feeling pressure to fill shoes that maybe weren’t going to fit me.

I remember being in middle school and seeing all of the older girls wearing the Victoria’s Secret, teen brand, PINK, yoga pants tucked into their rolled down chestnut uggs. I remember thinking, I cannot wait to be in eighth grade and to look so grown up and cool in my rolled down uggs. This was the first time I ever thought about emulating someone and dressing in a way that was not really me.

When I was younger, I was always a lot more mature than the kids my age, and prefered to sit and talk with the adults at any given outing. As high school started, there was more pressure to fit in with the other kids and to be like them. So, I started to change my mindset about pretty much everything. I found that it was “important” to dumb yourself down, to be quiet, and to look a certain way. My freshman year I was playing volleyball and a big part of the sport was developing strong leg muscles and a solid core. I always had a smaller, tighter stomach, but my legs were always way too big in my opinion. I remember the 2014 December issue of the Victoria Secret catalogue arriving through the mail slot at my house. I remember flipping through the pages and seeing Candice Swanepoel appearing over and over again. She was incrediby fit, blonde, and had a radiant smile. I always thought, wow I want to look like this. That Christmas break I started trying to slim my legs down and would do intensive workouts, log my meals, and constantly look in the mirror for hopes of immediate results.

This was the beginning of my body image dysphoria, and even today I think my legs are too big and that I could afford to eat better, look better, and work harder. Still to this day I think my mom is disappointed that I am not at Stanford University. But what has changed is that I really am incredibly happy with myself and the love and support that I have in my life. I am thrilled that I feel healthy and good about myself. And in all truthfulness, I really love the way that I look– well, most days at least.

When I got out there and started talking to some of my peers and my family members about the way they see themselves, I was pleasantly surprised to see how much my self love has grown as I reflected on myself through talking to them. As women, society and media has created a pressure for us females of all ages to pit themselves against each other. It has put a focus on always being better, always finding someone who is more attractive, or more thin, or more smart. It has created a false sense of perfection, when in fact, perfection simply does not exist. It is something we, in my opinion, as women have created to push ourselves to be “better.” What girls and women need to realize is that the only better we need to be, is better about our health– not just our bodies but our minds. It no longer should be about looking a certain way, but rather feeling a certain way.

JADE

18 YEAR OLD MODEL AND PHOTOGRAPHER

Ten years ago, my whole life was flipped upside down and changed drastically, so drastically that at the time I could not even comprehend the everlasting effects it would have on my life. I was born and raised in a small suburban town in the L.A. area. My family once consisted of a mom, a dad, and two children. We were happy for a long time, until suddenly we were not so happy anymore.

First my parents split up. Then my brother became very angry at the world. And finally,  I began to doubt myself as the walls around me began to crumble as my sense of love and security diminished. This was the beginning of never feeling good enough. It started with my older brother always making comments about what I was putting on my plate or in my bowl. He would say to me, “are you really going to eat that ice cream Jade. Are you really?” My eight year old self would stare at the ice cream, my eyes burning so hot with welling tears, until eventually it would melt. Shortly after the ice cream melted away, I melted away too. I became cautious about everything from then on, and when I was not conscious of a certain aspect of my appearance or what I was serving myself up with, my brother was sure to make a note of it.

I know today that he did not mean to hurt me or harm my image of myself, I know that he was just angry at our parents and at the world, but some scars never heal, like the one on my leg. From then on, as I got older I started to notice the other girls around me. Some of them were prettier than me, and even the ones who were not, I always saw in a better light than I did myself because of how lowly my self esteem had become. Hannah, one of my best friends, was tan, pretty, skinny, blue eyed. She was the ideal “American girl” and I always felt lesser than her because of my ivory complexion and my body image issues that had derived from the constant verbal attacks at home. Of course my mother always tried to counteract the attacks, but this did very little, for as they say, once the paper is crumpled, there is no uncrumpling it. The damage had been done.

One thing my brother never taunted me about was my stomach, and thank god for that because today that is my most favorite part of myself. I love my flat, toned tummy, and my tiny belly button. Though it is just one part of a whole, my confidence in my stomach has led to an overall confidence. A few years ago I got into modeling. You see, modeling is tricky because you feel self conscious, you feel your insecurities being zoomed in on by the camera. It is all consuming. My legs have always been an insecurity of mine, because as a model you are expected to be toned and fit in today’s day and age. Although I have long and thin legs, I always feel that they could be stronger and more defined. But as my modeling pursuit intensified, I decided to get behind the lense for once, and here is where I really fell in love.

I fell in love with taking pictures of beautiful young women and capturing the beauty in their “flaws.” The greatest thing about photography, should it be a picture taken of me or of another, are the raw moments. I think there is nothing more beautiful than a naked face and no compliment more appreciated than being told I look stunning without makeup on. In my industry, I have learned that it is so important to not just lead a healthy physical life style, but to create a healthy mentality. I have changed my mindset about the way I look to myself and about how others will perceive me. But most importantly, I have surrounded myself with people who help me to stay mentally healthy and encourage me to have good habits, and to view myself in the most beautiful and feminine way.

 

BRITANY

23 YEAR OLD TEXAS BEAUTY QUEEN

Let me tell y’all a little about our mighty fine, great state of Texas. Here in Texas, we go big or we go home. And when I say big, I mean BIG. Our crops are bigger, our meat is bigger, our muscles are bigger, and our breasts are damn bigger. If you don’t have big breasts, then honey I suggest you go find the finest plastic surgeon in your area and you get that shit taken care of. Because here in Texas, the only things we like small are our women’s waists, legs, noses, and feet. Now, when I was in high school, I was a real stick. I had great legs, a great ass, and the cutest damn face y’all ever saw. But my breasts, not so great. All the girls would snicker at me in the halls, and the boys sure made a point of calling me queen of the “itty bitty titty committee.” So for my sixteenth birthday, I had my mama call Dr. Sloan, the best plastic surgeon in all of Texas. He does wonders on breasts, especially young girls breasts.

In eighth grade, my friends and I would go to tanning booths for fun, because here in Texas you have got to be as orange as the logo for UT Austin. We would go to the mall on Sundays and stop by the teeth whitening booths, where they bleached our teeth until they were as shiny as the pearls we would wear to our formal dances– here in Texas we are still pretty traditional with our Southern Charm. After we whitened our teeth we would head over to Victoria’s Secret where we stole hundreds of dollars worth of bomb shells to make our unful breasts look plump. As y’all probably know, appearance is important, but it’s all about the real deal and what you can feel. That’s why after my appointment with Dr. Sloan, all the boys wanted to get a little grab in, and I sure as hell let them. My new, bigger and better, breasts were the greatest thing since the birth of Christ for me. And if you know anything about the South, and how we feel about our lord and savior ,Jesus Christ, then y’all must know how amazing my new boobs were for me– they truly were the second coming.

Shortly after my boob job, when the attention started to filter away from them, people began to notice my fingers, which I had always been insecure about because fat fingers run in my family, I started going to my mama’s nail salon where I would walk out feeling like a real beauty queen, but of course that feeling of acceptance filtered away as the polish started to chip days later. Like my busty new breasts, the feeling of confidence always left and then I was left still feeling bad about myself.

The next thing I got teased for were my hips. Even though I was always skinny, because I liked to run, which probably accounted for my lack of breasts, all the girls who were rail thin made fun of me for having busty hips. Today, everyone wants hips and the nice ass that’s supposed to come with them, but back then, it was a sin to have curves. To try and make myself appear smaller, I would skip lunch everyday to try to fit in with the anorexic skinny girls, and this made me feel better for a long time, because I loved the feeling of seeing the changes my body was making. I wasn’t patient and I didn’t want to wait for the long term results that came from getting older, or working out, or things like that. Like I said, in Texas, y’all go big or you go home. There is no waiting around, patience is nothing more than a social construct. In Texas, you make sure you get what you want, no matter how bad it may hurt.

TYRA

19 YEAR OLD DANCER

I began dancing when I was three years old, but it was not until I was thirteen that it became more than a hobby and I started to really take the art seriously. The thing about dance, is that it is an incredible amount of pressure on the body. Yes, physically it pushes and challenges your body, but it is more of a mental pressure. Have you ever looked up pictures of professional ballerinas on the internet? Well, if you have then you know that all of these woman are the most muscular stick figures you have ever seen in your life. To make it in ballet, you have to be powerful, but more importantly you have to be thin. Very thin. At eleven years old, my best friend and I began something of an anorexic tag team in which we pushed each other not to eat with hopes of becoming thin enough to be professional dancers. Like I said, in dance you have to be incredibly small and this does not create a healthy mind set, especially for young girls.

When I was going through this toxic phase of my career, I had a friend named Jaya. She too was a dancer, but the difference between the two of us was that she was much skinnier than I was. I thrived to look the way that she did, but I never seemed to be successful and this only deepened my anorexia and drive to be thin. My condition never got to the point of needing to be hospitalized but it did get to the stage where I was at the lowest mental point I have ever been.

My freshman year I become very depressed, as this was the peak of my disease. I found myself incredibly sad all of the time, and I had been so focused on being skinny for dance that I had isolated myself from my friends and felt entirely alone. They say there is a dark side to dance, like the Black Swan, but no one really knows how dark it can get until they experience it. Some days at ballet, when we would do bar work and I had to see myself in the mirror, I would have soft, silent tears rolling down my cheeks because of how upset I was about the way I appeared. It was not until my sophomore year of high school that I was finally able to get healthy again and learn how to be happy with what I had when I looked in the mirror.

Today, I am healthy. I am extremely confident in the way that I look. I have learned that my body is mine and I have to take care of it in order to be successful at the one thing I love the most in the world: dance. Although it has not been a smooth path getting to the place that I am in my career, dance is the one thing that makes me feel good and happy in my own skin. When I step into the studio now, there is no judgment towards myself or towards others. I have found a happy medium in which I have learned that eating right and dancing regularly makes me feel good inside and out. It makes me feel confident when I watch myself dance in the mirror. I love my body, from my eyebrows on my face to my ass on my backside. Today, I feel good. Today, I am the best I have ever been at dance. I have learned to love myself, to trust myself, and to embrace each new day. No longer do I worry about being the thinnest dancer in the room. Rarely do I look at my friends and feel envy. I do not look in the mirror and hate myself anymore. Of course there are days that I feel I may relapse, but then I look at myself and know that I am beautiful. I am strong. I am healthy. And most importantly, I am alive.

 

 

Aligning Passion With Vision

Me and sailing instructor Tom Dryja

Even though, I teach business marketing to graduate students, this is not that sort of post. After my husband died, I desperately searched for anything and everything that could bring me peace and happiness.

I’ve seen it before, family members who use alcohol to sooth painful feelings. I’m not going to lie. I drank a fair amount of gin, however, what I found to be the best antidote to pain, by far, is devotion to, and engagement in, meaningful work.

For example; I love writing this blog. It’s allowed me the use of talents I had developed over many years of writing as a business analyst, technical writer, marketing director, communications manager, and more.

Yes, writing is a passion. But, work must have a broader meaning and purpose to provide happiness.

Over 30,000 people read my blog now. I do no advertising or promotion. I have readers from all over the world, including places like Nigeria, Malta, New Caledonia, and so on, in a total of 64 countries.

This isn’t something I expected when I wrote my first post on grief in August of 2016. But, as I began, and discovered how much it helped me, while helping other people in such an unexpected myriad of ways, I continued.  Now, it is simply part of my life’s work, like making sailing clothes, or raising children.

When I was little, I always knew I would be a writer, I started writing in a journal daily at 12. It’s a passion, but how to align a passion with the vision we have for our life?

I could not write a novel like my late husband asked me to. I could tap out an interesting short story and that was all.

For work, I could write detailed memos, user guides, any type of collateral, training programs, press releases, systems manuals, marketing updates, business articles, and later website pages and electronic newsletters.

When I worked in the Financial District of San Francisco, in my twenties, that was my passion. I loved my expensive wool suits, silk blouses, and heels. I loved living in the city and kicking around all the interesting neighborhoods on the weekends.

Later, working South of Market Street, for several start ups was my passion. I wore black Mary Jane flats, and flared jeans, and smoked cigarettes in the ally with the French founders from Google.

I didn’t find this work particularly meaningful, but it paid well.

After years of consulting work, and raising children, I craved action. I no longer wished to sit behind a desk, no matter how lucrative. I like to ski, or hike winding trails, or more recently sail.

Two years ago, I was out sailing with my sailing instructor, Tom Dryja, and Andrew Lacenere. I had just met Andrew, so Tom mentioned that Andrew was a clothing designer.  I remember this moment, in the same way, we remember all important events, and after Andrew explained his vision to me, I told him I would help him.

Today, apart from writing this blog, there is nothing I enjoy more than making clothes with Andrew, and our pattern maker, Emma Garrison.

It’s been a slow process, but I’ve been able to align my passion for writing, with my passion for quality clothing, with my passion for the outdoors, and create my vision of a meaningful life.

It’s not something I could have planned, and I often wonder how it will all turn out, but, I do know, it will turn out well in the end, because I truly love what I’m doing. And, I wouldn’t have missed one single moment of any of it.

Love and blessings to all.

Andrew & Tom on the J105, San Francisco Bay
Lara, Tom & Andrew

Love Her More

For some reason, I was thinking endings when I dropped my daughter off in LA to start her college freshman year, but instead we are now at a new beginning, and are closer than ever before. 

Over the last year or so, we were literally like two ships passing in the night. We would often have lunch together, grab a quick coffee or take a short trip together, but I wasn’t really listening to her, I heard her voice, but did not discern, or hear the inner thoughts, behind her words, like I once did. 

When she was little, she told me everything, but during the teen years, I discovered she hid many things from me, as is normal. Many times, I would find out what she was up to, we live in a very small town after all, but I would stay quiet to allow, and protect, her privacy.  

A few times, I got that call, but it was never from her, but one of her grade school classmates, asking me to collect her from a party, because she wasn’t feeling well. 

I loved these calls, as these friends still call me Mrs. Thomas like they did when I was their room mom. I would then pick up my disheveled child, take her home, feed and hydrate her, and watch her sleep.

There is no better place to raise kids than Lamorinda. I heard this often as we settled into our dilapidated, five bedroom, fixer upper, and now I believe it to be true. 

Recently, my younger daughter had a dozen friends over, the boys showed up at the door with a cracker platter, clearly raised by their well mannered mothers, to never show up empty handed. 

Now, my daughter is in Southern California, we FaceTime, we text, we email, we share google documents of her writing projects, we tag each other in photos, we talk on the phone, I send her videos of me, the house, the dog, or her sisters messy bathroom. I send her packages. And most recently we Snapchat. We are far away, but close again. 

Her room is now empty, it looks like she walked out leaving everything she didn’t want behind. The unloved clothes hang forlornly in the closet. And I miss her, but she is with me now as I go about my day, so I am cherishing this time simultaneously.

When I had this child, and held her in my arms, I didn’t think I could ever love her more than I did at that moment, but I did, and I do. 

Love and blessings. 

Sydney is Dating

img_6499

Yes, I have been dating.  A close friend of mine told me that I would have to kiss some toads, as I am not a toad kisser and never have been, I have simply been shaking their hand.  So far, I’ve met two different men, both well educated, one a therapist, and the other an M.D.  After the year I’ve had, the irony that I would attract men that are in the healing professions is not lost on me.

Over the past year, I have taken a hard look at the success of my 22 year marriage, and the other beautiful people I’ve loved and dated in the past.  It’s been fun to look for patterns and personal preferences in myself, and use this wisdom as I embark on this new adventure.

When I was in my twenties, I went through a period that my then, best friend Hilary, called my serial dating phase.  For a period, when I was living in San Francisco I went out with every person that asked me.  I kept thinking, there could be a diamond in the rough, and I would miss this person if I based my decisions on appearance, or first impressions alone.  During that time, I went on a ton of dates, I learned a great deal from this, and I remember it fondly, however, now I don’t have that kind of time.  My time is valuable as I have my beautiful daughter to raise, many friends, work I love, and a long list of hobbies and interests.

The good news is there is no rush, and with a divorce rate of 50% plus, there is no shortage of single people to choose from.  The advantage of age is knowing yourself better, and knowing what you need and don’t need.

At the end of the day, the most important attribute to look for is a good friend.  When I was younger, I liked to be by myself more often than not, so my late husband’s golf obsession was a blessing, now that I’m older, I would like a buddy, someone with shared interests, who can be my best friend.

So far, it’s been great fun.  Until I find my best friend, I look forward to meeting new people, and expanding my horizons.

Love and blessings to all.

 

Better Next Time & Eternal Reoccurrence 

img_4914As difficult as this period has been it is not without its gifts and merits. It has taught me how loved we really are, prior to this, I had no idea. It has also taught me how to love more fully, be truly grateful for what remains, and to be thankful for everything life has given me.

It has also been a golden opportunity to strengthen my faith in God, and all things good.  And to believe that life is beautiful no matter what happens.

This is the nucleus of the book, Night, written by Elie Wiesel about his experience in the Nazi German concentration camps at Auschwitz and Buchenwald in 1944–1945.

I’ve not been to Auschwitz, but I have been to Dachau outside of Munich, it’s worth the trip, as it is something you will never forget.

Human suffering is nothing new, but it is how we approach it that makes all the difference.

As, I’ve written, I’ve had incidents, even recently, that would have tested my strength, leaving my daughter at college in LA, at one time would have been enough to level me, but now only serves to increase my faith and build a perpetual resolve to persevere regardless of outer circumstances.

I think this is the heart of eternal reoccurrence, the philosophy of Freidrick Nietzsche. If we do live the same set of circumstances over and over, chances are at some point, they no longer attract our frantic sense of injustice and we begin to transform our tragedies into blessings to strengthen us and learn from.

This is not a new concept, it’s commonly related in every modern religion, but it is difficult to live, as many simple concepts are.

In late 1880 Nietzsche writes:

“In an infinite period of time, every possible combination would at some time be attained,” “The Will To Power” states, “The law of conservation of energy demands eternal recurrence.”

If I am required to live this life again, I would be honored, my only hope is that I would be able to live it better.

Love and blessings to all.

A Broken Heart Is a Blessing 

img_4845After a year or so, of heartbreaks, betrayal and loss. I can now see that my broken heart is a blessing. I have so much more compassion and empathy for other people. I can look into their eyes and feel their pain sometimes. I can sit with them without talking. Loss is an inevitable part of life. My losses came early, my father when I was nine and my mother at twenty-nine, my husband, right in the middle of our life, went to work one day and never returned.

Like most people, I’ve had other losses, situations, that were just not meant to be, as they didn’t hold seeds of greatness, but proved over time to be meaningless.

Why our lives are comprised of both the meaningless and miraculous, we can not understand. Our human brain is limited, and it’s not unlike trying to explain a telescope to a chimpanzee.

As I search for answers, I turn to the great philosophers, most recently, Friedrich Nietzsche, whose formula for human greatness is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not in the future, not in the past, not for all eternity. He also promoted the concept of eternal reoccurrence. Simply put, in his work he asserts that we live the same life over and over indefinitely.

To some this may be terrifying to contemplate, but to me I find it hopeful, that I can live each day with more love and understanding and acceptance, without question, and fully embrace each day to the fullest regardless of what it brings. 

Love and blessings to all.

Have Better Cards

The secret to winning at poker and at anything in life is to have better cards. Since, I’ve been left to my own devises unexpectedly to support my children and myself without warning, I think a great deal about things like increasing my market share, and making my adventure clothing company Ocean SF attractive to investors, while leveraging my assets, and managing my resources.  

The truth is the best way to win at any card game is to have better cards than the other players, this is of course a metaphor for what I am trying to do, and to me it means that I must have a better product than my competitors, and I’ve worked hard to make sure that I do, our technical mid layer jacket, is by far the best on the market.

My mother used to warn me to play my cards right. At the time, I didn’t really understand this, but now I do. 

Here are some tips for life and card games:

  • Come prepared 
  • Stay calm
  • Games are about taking risks, don’t take too many risks, but if you play too conservatively you will lose 
  • Other players can bluff, but the person with the better hand always wins

Love and blessings.

Delayed Reaction 

Yesterday was my late husband’s birthday, I met up with my college friends at the Lafayette Art and Wine Festival, we laughed in the way only old friends can, over nothing, like we were nineteen again. After, I came home and let Siena have friends over since she’s on crutches and I want her close. I made dinner, and watched a movie.

This morning, I woke up feeling a little depressed, so I went to church, then grocery shopping. I had that same lonely feeling I often had as a kid, but rarely feel now. 

I wondered around the grocery store like a ghost, and came home with ingredients for ten different dinners. Comfort food. Right now, I’m making chicken and wild rice soup, with fresh cream, bourbon and thyme from my garden.  I will move onto linguine and prawns in a lemon butter sauce next. After, I’m toasting rosemary focaccia with olive oil and fontina cheese.

Happy Sunday.

Love and blessings to all.