Have I mentioned how much I love my job? I get to share in the lives and loves of almost every person who sits in my chair and gets a hair cut or color. It is rarely just about hair for the men or women who rest their weary bones and welcome the touch of my hands. We may talk about the newest style or color they hope for, although many just talk about their hopes and wishes and then stick with what they have been wearing for a while. The conversation may start with the mundane issues of their lives, but eventually they reveal daring hopes, soaring dreams, and unraveling plans.
I am given the gift of trust and I do not take it lightly. I try and help them carry the burdens they share and if I feel I am not adequate, I point them in the direction I feel can suit the issue better. I hear stories that have made me laugh and make me cry. Making a salon within my home has created an area that allow people to feel at ease. They know my family as well as I know theirs. Some folks have their hair done every four to six weeks....and some of these ladies have been with me for seventeen years. Because of the frequent opportunities to get together, I see my clients more than I do my own family. They are more than clients, they are friends.
But at the end of my days, I find little time to follow my passion of writing. So this blog is a nod to my story telling. And while work is getting in the way of my writing....relationships are an awesome trade off. Here's to weekends and the time they afford me to play.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Monday, November 17, 2014
Adult children
Our drive home today from Pittsburgh felt incredibly long. It was as if we had hooked the cold front to the back of the car and pulled it along behind us, bringing rain, sleet and freezing temperatures across all the states we passed through. After such a whirlwind weekend, it felt unusually quiet and calm. No agendas were waiting to be fulfilled.
As much as I love my grandchildren, I was glad to spend one on one time with my oldest daughter once the children had been properly hugged, smooched and placed on the bus for school. We talked without interruption over coffee while the sleet pinged against the glass windows. I would have loved hours of this kind interaction. I am always surprised to talk with the adult woman that she is when I still hold the little girl she was so close in my heart. Now she is the mother of three with another one expected to arrive in May. Our conversation split it's time among the mundane parts of grown up life....bills, grocery lists and the joys of raising children.
nities
The warm fuzzies of the weekend and the stress free time together will carry me through the work week, but it will disappear all too soon. "Life is the accumulation of memories." This weekend was a grand gem to add to the mountain of memories I hope to draw upon in the future.
May today bring new memories and opportunities to a few to you!
As much as I love my grandchildren, I was glad to spend one on one time with my oldest daughter once the children had been properly hugged, smooched and placed on the bus for school. We talked without interruption over coffee while the sleet pinged against the glass windows. I would have loved hours of this kind interaction. I am always surprised to talk with the adult woman that she is when I still hold the little girl she was so close in my heart. Now she is the mother of three with another one expected to arrive in May. Our conversation split it's time among the mundane parts of grown up life....bills, grocery lists and the joys of raising children.
nities
The warm fuzzies of the weekend and the stress free time together will carry me through the work week, but it will disappear all too soon. "Life is the accumulation of memories." This weekend was a grand gem to add to the mountain of memories I hope to draw upon in the future.
May today bring new memories and opportunities to a few to you!
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Magical Wishes
Today is one of those days you dare to hope for....the one where you make a wish and it comes true. It was the day that all the stars aligned and joy was the end result.
Happy early Thanksgiving
- Turkey went in and cooked itself to perfection.
- Vegetables behaved and came out at the same time as the turkey.
- Christmas crafts were bought and young children were entertained and thankful.
- The wine was the perfect compliment to the meal.
- An ex-husband came and all the words around the table were kind and carried no ill will.
- The planning and execution of the meal was a ballet of two women...The mother and the oldest daughter doing a dance of unspoken steps and timeless rrhythm. No wasted movement between them.
- Men, grateful for full bellies, taking over the kitchen duties of cleaning and storing leftover food.
Happy early Thanksgiving
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Generations
Eight years ago my oldest daughter moved to Pennsylvania with my second granddaughter. I couldn't imagine traveling the distance to see them. But here we are so many years later and I travel up so often that I believe my car knows the way without me. My sweet husband and always come bearing gifts. More often than not, I bring food! It is the language I speak when I want to communicate love. I stock her freezer and whisk her off to the grocery store to stock up. It makes me happy and sets my mind at ease when I leave.....I know that for the next month or two they will have food.
Since that time eight years ago, two more children have come along to call me Nona...the Italian name for Grandma.....and another one will arrive in May.
We arrived on the winds of a cold front. The low temperatures and hills dotted with white lights made it feel as if the holiday season had begun. Once we unpacked our bags, we were informed that a fireworks show was about to begin in their little borough. Walking a few blocks with neighbors we got to see experience a firework show that marked the beginning of the holiday season here. Woo hoo!
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Sticks and Stones
Our daughter and granddaughter share our home with us and we live in a popular type of home called a split foyer that has two complete living areas upstairs and downstairs. It is what makes our arrangement work. While passing through their area on my way to the laundry room the other evening, I was asked by my granddaughter if I wanted to sit and watch a movie with them. I had so many things to do that my first inclination was to thank her and gently decline her offer. But I decided to sit for a moment and watch a small bit of the movie.
Maleficent was the chosen movie for the night. I wasn't particularly thrilled with the thought of watching a "kid" movie, but it grabbed me from the beginning and 90 minutes or so later, I was so glad I had been invited and had decided to stay.
The storyline was a departure from the traditional Sleeping Beauty story. Told from Aurora's point of view, we discover a different side to Maleficent. If you haven't seen it, stop now because there are some spoilers here. Maleficent is not quite as evil as we have been led to believe. Instead she is a woman hurt and destroyed by someone she loved and who she thought loved her. Betrayed and devastated she uses rage and revenge as her defenses. Bitterness takes root and as an act of revenge she uses her words to curse an innocent child.....the offspring of the one who hurt her so badly.
The original fairytale insists that true loves first kiss will break the curse placed on Aurora, but in this version it is simply love that sets them all free. Maleficent reverts back to her true self slowly as she watches the child she cursed grow and play, day after day and year after year. And as her defenses crumble, her heart is once gain endowed with generosity and love. But she finds that words spoken cannot be taken back.
It was at this point in the movie that I was deeply moved because I know I have been in that situation many times as so many of us have. We have spoken words that came from a place of anger, jealousy, hatred or fear. We have said things that cannot be unheard or unspoken. The hearer has been injured by the curses spoken and the person speaking is injured as well. Sometimes it even feels good to get the last word or even a jab at someone who has betrayed us or caused us harm. But the curse cannot be revoked and the wounds must heal if possible. Once the emotion driven situation has returned to normal and we realize what we have done, it takes so much to apologize and try to reverse the damage caused by thoughtlessly spoken words.
As most fairy tales do, this story ended well. Maleficent's curse was eventually broken by true love. A love that seeks the best for others and has forgiveness at the core. It is a wise person who knows how to keep a guard at their mouth and think before they speak, but if the damage has been done confession is good for the soul and forgiveness heals the forgiven and the one extending grace.
But everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger....
May we live by this rule!
Maleficent was the chosen movie for the night. I wasn't particularly thrilled with the thought of watching a "kid" movie, but it grabbed me from the beginning and 90 minutes or so later, I was so glad I had been invited and had decided to stay.
The storyline was a departure from the traditional Sleeping Beauty story. Told from Aurora's point of view, we discover a different side to Maleficent. If you haven't seen it, stop now because there are some spoilers here. Maleficent is not quite as evil as we have been led to believe. Instead she is a woman hurt and destroyed by someone she loved and who she thought loved her. Betrayed and devastated she uses rage and revenge as her defenses. Bitterness takes root and as an act of revenge she uses her words to curse an innocent child.....the offspring of the one who hurt her so badly.
The original fairytale insists that true loves first kiss will break the curse placed on Aurora, but in this version it is simply love that sets them all free. Maleficent reverts back to her true self slowly as she watches the child she cursed grow and play, day after day and year after year. And as her defenses crumble, her heart is once gain endowed with generosity and love. But she finds that words spoken cannot be taken back.
It was at this point in the movie that I was deeply moved because I know I have been in that situation many times as so many of us have. We have spoken words that came from a place of anger, jealousy, hatred or fear. We have said things that cannot be unheard or unspoken. The hearer has been injured by the curses spoken and the person speaking is injured as well. Sometimes it even feels good to get the last word or even a jab at someone who has betrayed us or caused us harm. But the curse cannot be revoked and the wounds must heal if possible. Once the emotion driven situation has returned to normal and we realize what we have done, it takes so much to apologize and try to reverse the damage caused by thoughtlessly spoken words.
As most fairy tales do, this story ended well. Maleficent's curse was eventually broken by true love. A love that seeks the best for others and has forgiveness at the core. It is a wise person who knows how to keep a guard at their mouth and think before they speak, but if the damage has been done confession is good for the soul and forgiveness heals the forgiven and the one extending grace.
But everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger....
May we live by this rule!
NaBloPoMo
I mentioned that I had signed up for the challenge of NaBloPoMo ,(National Blog Post Month), on November 1, thanks to a friend I have never met, but a sister blogger who is pretty awesome at combining words into a treasured read. I have signed up for NaNoWriMo, (National Novel Writing Month), in the past but have not been able to make it to the coveted 50,000 word goal.
I have been working at the craft of hair styling for almost 17 years now and it is a job that has saved me in many ways. That must be a post for a later date. That said, I wish they made these lovely "do it every day all month long" challenges for another month. I am incredibly busy during November due to the upcoming holidays and the decoration of the house and it makes it an added challenge to get a post up everyday. I have missed two and feel a little disappointed in myself.
This morning I woke up and remembered that I had been too tired to post last night. Too tired, in fact, to remember to post. My body and brain were mush and once I shoved some delicious dinner into my face, I was out for the night. But as I prepared for my long work day today, I began to ask myself why I agree to accept the challenge and why I would contemplate beating myself up over a swing and a miss....so to speak. I signed up for a jump start back into writing but I had no good answers for beating myself up over not keeping up with the pace so, I decided to let it go.
I love writing and I love trying to master the ability to put into words what my heart and mind feel and think. I have time while blow drying clients to carry on delightful conversations with myself and to ponder some of the topics that are discussed in my chair. So I am hoping to grab onto something during the day today and process it until I finish around 8 tonight and am able to put it here.
Moral of this whole post? I am in charge of every challenge that comes my way. I must play the cards I'm dealt and be kind to myself along the way. Here's to hoping you are kind to yourself when the expectations you have laid down aren't quite met.
I have been working at the craft of hair styling for almost 17 years now and it is a job that has saved me in many ways. That must be a post for a later date. That said, I wish they made these lovely "do it every day all month long" challenges for another month. I am incredibly busy during November due to the upcoming holidays and the decoration of the house and it makes it an added challenge to get a post up everyday. I have missed two and feel a little disappointed in myself.
This morning I woke up and remembered that I had been too tired to post last night. Too tired, in fact, to remember to post. My body and brain were mush and once I shoved some delicious dinner into my face, I was out for the night. But as I prepared for my long work day today, I began to ask myself why I agree to accept the challenge and why I would contemplate beating myself up over a swing and a miss....so to speak. I signed up for a jump start back into writing but I had no good answers for beating myself up over not keeping up with the pace so, I decided to let it go.
I love writing and I love trying to master the ability to put into words what my heart and mind feel and think. I have time while blow drying clients to carry on delightful conversations with myself and to ponder some of the topics that are discussed in my chair. So I am hoping to grab onto something during the day today and process it until I finish around 8 tonight and am able to put it here.
Moral of this whole post? I am in charge of every challenge that comes my way. I must play the cards I'm dealt and be kind to myself along the way. Here's to hoping you are kind to yourself when the expectations you have laid down aren't quite met.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Taking care of our own
I was watching the television and heard Jon Stewart talking about being apart of the big songfest in Washington, DC to honor our vets. He said something that struck a cord with me because I have lived it's truth. He said...and I am just paraphrasing....
We are great at making veterans, but not so great at taking care of them.
He could not have been more right. It has been said that old men make wars and young men fight them. I have seen the after affects of war within my own household, both as a young child and as a mother and mother in law.
When my father returned from his fifth tour in Vietnam, my brothers and I were cautioned about waking up my father from within a particular distance. He woke suddenly and was likely to see you as an enemy before he realized you were his child. I remember hearing my mother's voice calling to my father in the middle of the night and finding her standing in the kitchen dressed in her robe and looking out into the back yard. My father was out there walking around unaware that he was in a backyard in Virginia Beach, Virginia. His mind was still fighting a war on a distant land. He never spoke about his time there as an pilot where he flew both jets with bombs to deploy and helicopters to go into a hot zone and rescue his fellow warriors.
And then I was a mother who watched her son sent to war. He volunteered to become a Marine at 17 years old. An indecent age to swear allegiance to a country that is willing to use your young soul to fight a war. He was sent three times to that war zone and every time he came home I saw less of the boy I had given birth to and raised, and more of a man losing himself in the violence he had to see and participate in.
He was a veteran now at 23 years old and once on American soil, we could find no one to help him. Just brown bags of drugs handed to him in an effort to dull the images of war. No one really knew how to help him or the thousands of men and women just like him. We have consistently begged for the Veterans Administration to help....but have been shocked at the apathy and disinterest of those we have seen.
To paraphrase Jon Stewart again...We are great at making veterans, but not so great at taking care of them.
They don't need the songs of musicians that will fade with the morning light. But the money spent on putting together an event, like the one on tonight, would be better spent funding programs that work in connecting with out vets and helping them become the men and women they were meant to be.
http://www.somegaveall.org/
http://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/
http://www.puppiesbehindbars.com/home
http://www.fisherhouse.org/
We are great at making veterans, but not so great at taking care of them.
He could not have been more right. It has been said that old men make wars and young men fight them. I have seen the after affects of war within my own household, both as a young child and as a mother and mother in law.
When my father returned from his fifth tour in Vietnam, my brothers and I were cautioned about waking up my father from within a particular distance. He woke suddenly and was likely to see you as an enemy before he realized you were his child. I remember hearing my mother's voice calling to my father in the middle of the night and finding her standing in the kitchen dressed in her robe and looking out into the back yard. My father was out there walking around unaware that he was in a backyard in Virginia Beach, Virginia. His mind was still fighting a war on a distant land. He never spoke about his time there as an pilot where he flew both jets with bombs to deploy and helicopters to go into a hot zone and rescue his fellow warriors.
And then I was a mother who watched her son sent to war. He volunteered to become a Marine at 17 years old. An indecent age to swear allegiance to a country that is willing to use your young soul to fight a war. He was sent three times to that war zone and every time he came home I saw less of the boy I had given birth to and raised, and more of a man losing himself in the violence he had to see and participate in.
He was a veteran now at 23 years old and once on American soil, we could find no one to help him. Just brown bags of drugs handed to him in an effort to dull the images of war. No one really knew how to help him or the thousands of men and women just like him. We have consistently begged for the Veterans Administration to help....but have been shocked at the apathy and disinterest of those we have seen.
To paraphrase Jon Stewart again...We are great at making veterans, but not so great at taking care of them.
They don't need the songs of musicians that will fade with the morning light. But the money spent on putting together an event, like the one on tonight, would be better spent funding programs that work in connecting with out vets and helping them become the men and women they were meant to be.
http://www.somegaveall.org/
http://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/
http://www.puppiesbehindbars.com/home
http://www.fisherhouse.org/
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