Friday, April 23, 2010

April's Trenches

What an exciting month this has been! PoV turns three and Bonnie up and had her baby a full two weeks early!

The Monday after we welcomed Wyatt into our growing family, I sat at my new, big girl desk a little overwhelmed. I was greeted that morning with, “Well, I guess it’s time to sink or swim.” I felt like I was in the deep end of the pool with no floaties on. Could I really do this? Run a magazine while Bonnie is on leave? I know we had been preparing for this day. After all, I had a nine month fair warning! But, it still seemed surreal that this was happening.

In a way, PoV is Bonnie and Brian’s real first born. And they want to leave me in charge?

My own sister-in-law still can’t believe I let my niece Lola teeth on the leg of a chair. (I figured if my puppy had done it...) My brother called a billion times the day I had to pick Lola up from school, worried I would be late, forget or perhaps be abducted by aliens.

I have a generally laid-back attitude when it comes to baby-sitting and raising kids. Could this style work for PoV? Will it need more guidance? Stricter rules?

After my own version of labor including many sleepless nights, a few bottles of Strawberry Harvest, a couple 12-hour days and passing the thought that I needed to bring in an air mattress and forward my mail, my first solo issue is born. I truly hope you enjoy our three-year anniversary edition. This month, we are all the proud parents of this genius brain child!

Thursday, April 8, 2010

One Day Without Shoes - Part One




TOMS One Day Without Shoes

Seemed like an easy enough task. Spend one day without shoes, to represent the lifetime some go without in other countries. Surely, I can do this. I may own 100+ pairs of shoes, but I like being barefoot.

From the moment I swung my feet around to climb out of the bed, I knew this was going to be a long day! I have two dogs that commanded my attention for their morning outing. I usually throw on a pair of flip-flops to follow them outside. This morning, I followed barefoot. The cement was cool, but no huge problems. The pollen from the oak tree in my yard did stick to my feet. I also didn’t dare walk into the dew soaked grass to throw the ball to Maddux! He had to bring the ball to me on the slab where my feet were high and dry!

I finished getting dressed and started out the door. Standing fully dressed, coffee and keys in hand, I pulled the door to my house shut behind me and paused. It really felt odd, standing on the cold brick steps, dressed for work and no shoes on my feet. I actually starting thinking to myself, I forgot something… cell phone? Check. Keys? Check. Computer cord? Check. Turned the coffee pot off? Check. The lack of shoes on my feet really caused my brain to make me take a moment to think, “What did you forget?”

I crossed my driveway and loaded my things in the Jeep and climbed into the driver’s seat. Is driving my car barefoot even legal? Safe? As it was, I had to pull the seat up a bit to be able to push the clutch in! Apparently, I take for granted the extra bit of height my shoes provide!

As I pulled up to my office, I paused a moment. Could I really do this today? Go barefoot? I’m not one who usually gives a dang about what people think about me, but I don’t go around drawing attention to myself either. I am a generally conservative person! Yet here I am, at my office, dressed in Capri pants to be sure people can see I am barefoot. And it’s only 8 a.m. I wonder if I really am going to make it all day!

I gathered myself and got out of the Jeep. I crossed our paved parking lot (thankful it’s not shells!) paying attention to where I was stepping. Usually, I just sprint inside, talking on the phone or still singing that last song on the radio. Defiantly not paying attention to the little things on the cement! This morning I was made aware of a tiny nail that I picked up to save my feet and an unsuspecting tire.

Upon walking into my office, I was pleased to find my co-workers were ready and barefoot! Both of our office workers were barefoot, and had already hung up the information poster on our office door to inform customers of our mission! The graphics department, also, was barefoot and ready to go! I was very excited to see that they were accepting of the idea and understood it’s importance.

Being barefoot around my office was really no big deal. Often times, if my heels are hurting my tootsies, I kick them off and go barefoot for a bit. I mostly sit at my desk and use the computer all day. Our floors are carpeted and clean. It didn’t really seem like much of a sacrifice to be barefoot in here. Then came the biggest challenge of my day… the bathroom. I’m not really a big germ-a-phob, but the idea of using a bathroom shared by 20 other people, men and women, had me second guessing the barefoot thing. Gross, right? I contemplated getting two Wet Wipes and placing them under my feet as I trudged to answer nature’s call. Maybe taking some paper from the recycle box and lining the floor? There had to be a safe way! Then I thought about it. I have indoor plumbing to be concerned about using. A toilet less than 20 steps from my desk. What was I really going barefoot for, if not to better understand the hardships that come with it. I took a deep breath, and off to the bathroom I went.

As lunch time approached, my mom called to see if I wanted to meet her at our local plant nursery, Ganier’s, to help her pick out some plants for her yard. Needing to get tomato plants for my own garden, I agreed to meet her there. Back through our paved parking lot I went. Not so lucky when pulling into Ganier’s! Their parking lot is a fine mixture of rocks and mud. Slightly daunted, I cautiously climbed down and made my way inside. I had already warned my mother of my lack of footwear for the day, but the other customers defiantly missed the memo. I got quite a few odd stares, and one obvious statement of “You don’t have any shoes on.” Yes, thank you, I have realized that. The different surfaces proved to be fun for my little feet. The difference in temperature from the warm rough concrete outside to the cool smooth bricks inside was fun to experience.

Friday, March 5, 2010

March Trenches

Can you hear that sound? It’s the distinct crack of a ball hitting a bat and the constant hum of chatter. “Hey batter, batter. Hey batter, batter.” Can you smell that fragrant bouquet of hamburgers grilling and peanuts boiling? Can you smell the freshly cut grass on the diamond? Can you taste that fabulous first sip of ice-cold draft beer mixing perfectly with the salt of the peanuts? Can you see that wonderful sight? That perfect white chalk diamond stands out like a perfect jewel in the sea of emerald green grass. Do you feel that stirring deep in your soul? That calling brings you back year after year to America’s pastime.

Baseball.

I love baseball. I always have. I remember watching the Atlanta Braves on TV and attending Houston Astros games while growing up. I love watching the players stand in the batter’s box, so tall and brave. I love the stare down between batter and pitcher, knowing the game is on the line. I love the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, tied score. The wind up and the pitch. And another game is won.

I am an equal opportunity baseball watcher. If there’s a game on, I’m watching it. I’m not worried who’s playing; I may not even root for a team. I just want to watch. It doesn’t matter if the game is college or major league. I want to lose myself for a few hours in this great game. I want to stand and stretch in the seventh inning and sing along with another off key rendition of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” I’ve rarely missed an opening day Braves game even if it meant taking a day off of work or calling in sick. That’s my day and it’s my game. Those old MLB commercials got it right. “I live for this!”

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

February Trenches- PoV

Move over Jersey Shore Mike, there is a new “Situation” in town.

I’m talking about my Christmas gift from my boyfriend John, a Wii Fit. It seemed harmless enough, this little unassuming white board, all clean and innocent. I was super excited about it. I had seen the ads of the slim, athletic people having fun and playing games, all while getting fit! That could be me too!

“Welcome!” the game says, dripping with sweetness, “Let’s get started!” I step on the balance board, ready to start my new fit life. “Hold still please.” Are you kidding me? I find myself talking back to the machine, arguing that I could be mistaken for a statue.

It then measures my weight and calculates my body mass index. Oh boy. I’m not going to share that with you, but let’s just say it then decided to make my Mii character a little more plump than I had originally decided it should be!

The Wii Fit then puts you through balance and mental tests to find your Wii Fit age. Well, I was born in 1980, but according to my new fit-making friend, I am 39 years old. Guess I need to adjust the number of candles on that next cake!

The supposed fun part of the Wii Fit is that you check in everyday and it measures you and lets you know how much closer you are to your goal with a congratulatory confetti shower. Or...you are left standing in the middle of your living room trying to make excuses for the 5.5 pounds you seemed to have gained between Christmas and the new year. My former friend makes you stand there in shame and choose an option that may have led to your weight gain. “Overindulge?” Yes. “Too much sitting around?” Yes. Is there an “all of the above” option I can pick and just get this over with?

Overall, I love my new present and forever fit friend. Just don’t ask too many questions if you come over and find me arguing with it. “These clothes do so weigh 7 pounds! I know I didn’t gain that much, all I ate today was king cake!”

Friday, January 1, 2010

January 2010 Trenches...

During my monthly procrastination rituals prior to writing this note, I stumbled upon a Word document in my computer called “Resolutions 2009.” Hmm … I wonder how I did?

Start a workout regiment – not unless you consider the laps I do through Target a workout.

Try ballroom dancing – well, I didn’t miss a single episode of “So You Think You Can Dance.”

Cut back on my reality TV watching – see above. Oh, and doesn’t “American Idol” start soon? Thank goodness for DVR!

Paint the living room – the paint colors are definitely still push-pinned to the wall. At least I know I want a shade of blue … or gray … or green.

Read the classics I skimmed through in college. Umm … I finished all four books in the “Twilight” series in a month.

Buy fewer pairs of shoes – no comment.

Perhaps I should just rename the document “To-Do List 2010” and try again. Happy New Year! May 2010 be your year!

December's Trenches

December means one thing to me ... Karaoke time!

My mother’s side of the family lives in various places throughout Louisiana and Texas. We get together for one weekend usually right before Christmas to celebrate.

Four years ago, my grandfather, the heart of my family, passed away. We knew the holidays were going to be rough. My cousins got together and got Nanny a special present, one sure to brighten her holiday ... a karaoke machine!

“What?” Yes, we gave my 80-year-old grandmother a karaoke machine! (She rocks a pretty mean “Redneck Woman!”)

Now, on a yearly basis, we gather around the TV to embarrass ourselves and give the younger generation something to look forward to. Everyone has their favorites. The holidays would not be complete without such holiday classics as “Old Time Rock and Roll,” “Walk the Dinosaur,” “Proud Mary,” “Mambo No. 5” and Uncle Charles’ tone deaf version of “Pump Up the Jam.” One of my cousins even wrote a family song to the tune of Robert Earl Keen’s “Merry Christmas from the Family.”

Christmas at Nanny’s really is the hot ticket in town. Stay on the nice list and you might just get an invite! “Na Na Sha!”

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

November's Trenches

NOVEMBER 2009

I’m on a boat! Well, maybe not yet.

I am going on a cruise. Talk about the power of peer pressure. A group of my seven closest friends has decided to book a cruise. I reluctantly agreed to go. This goes against my nature. I have an irrational fear of cruise ships. I have never been on one before, yet I feel a strong aversion to them.

I am afraid of pirates and icebergs. (Yes, before you ask, my cruise departs from New Orleans and travels in the Gulf waters that are projected to be a warm 80 degrees and are probably constantly patrolled by anti-pirate armed forces.) I am afraid of being seasick the whole time. (I can’t enjoy a hammock without feeling a little queasy.)

I am afraid of small confined spaces. I am afraid of large crowds. (We did get a room with a large window and I have studied the layout of the ship to ensure I know where all exits are.)

I am afraid of being quarantined on the ship when we return to port due to some strange tropical, digestive system altering virus. (Have I mentioned our cruise goes to Key West [part of the U.S.], and Nassau [it’s a five star resort]?)

I have decided I am going to face my fears, grab the Dramamine, and board that ship. Worse come to worse, I get off the boat and don’t get back on. I think I could handle taking up residence in Key West! I’ll send you a postcard!