Ode to the Gardener – Important Life Lessons

April 8, 2014 | Julie Hall

Not so long ago, I stood by my father’s side witnessing the ever-advancing damage of dementia. I knew deep inside that our time together was growing short from a cognitive perspective, but I never once took into consideration that he, himself, would be taken so quickly. Dad was a Master Gardener who dedicated his life to understanding the soil, composting, plant diseases and cures, etc.

Dad volunteered 20,000 hours of his senior years teaching children in elementary, middle, and high schools how to nurture and grow vegetables, how to be more self-sufficient, how to be responsible, how to be part of something bigger than yourself. He also went into prisons, as he wanted to give them a sense of hope and accomplishment. Dad was sent a gold lapel pin award from President Bush, honoring his 20,000 hours of volunteering, and he was so proud of that pin.

When dad and I were in the garden together, he used to say there was no therapy better than sticking your hands in the earth and being a part of nurturing a plant to maturity, taking a back seat to mother nature, of course. Little did I know, I would inherit his love for gardening and his green thumb as well.

There are many life lessons to be learned from gardening. Below are several listed from Adam McCane’s site, which I really like; I just tweaked them a bit for purposes of this blog.

What you water grows. This simply means that we need to pay attention to ensure we are watered throughout life. It is the most basic need we have, for without it, we would perish. So will our plants that feed us, if we don’t take care of them or the earth.
Weed regularly. Weeds are deceptive. You won’t notice them starting, but before you know it, they are choking out your veggies, stealing water and nutrients from your plants, and reproducing. The rule in the garden is simple: If you see a weed, pick it! The same is true for life. Weeds and other “undesirables” have a way of creeping in on us. We need to be mindful that we do not need any weeds in our lives, literally or figuratively. Get rid of them and don’t feel bad about it. All of us are tired of dealing with the weeds!
Sharing the harvest. It’s all about abundance, whether you are sharing veggies, flowers, time, care, love, etc. Share what you have an abundance of and pay it forward. It always finds its way back.
Plant in the right season. For everything, there is a time and purpose. Sometimes, it is beyond our understanding. I believe we reap what we sow. Maybe it’s time to plant better, more productive things in our lives. Feed your spirit by allowing only good things into your life now. If you see things rotting, infested, etc., you will need to tend to them by getting rid of them, or proactively healing them. TIme and nature will tell you which one it will be.
Space is required for growth. It’s hard to imagine how much room a vegetable is going to need when you grow it from seed or buy a seedling that is in a 5-inch pot. Sometimes they grow so fast and thick, they can choke out other plants. Giving a plant plenty of space is important for the health of the plant, so it receives plenty of sunshine and nutrients. Providing this space will ensure our plants will be healthy, productive, and have plenty of breathable space. We need to do this for ourselves and give that gift to others too.
Pruning is necessary for abundance. Cutting, pinching, or picking off dead leaves, branches, poor or weak fruit is necessary for the growth of the healthy fruit. Vineyard pruners do this every day. They know exactly how to cut the vine to promote healthy grapes. While it may look harsh to see so much being removed, it gives the healthy portions of the plant more nutrients to produce the best fruit. Sometimes, we need to look at ourselves the same way and learn how to prune ourselves by letting go of things that no longer serve our well-being and our highest good.

Dad’s old garden hat is still hanging next to mine on a hook in my laundry room. Every time I head out to the garden, Dad accompanies me in spirit. I kept his watering can, his old worn leather gloves, his t-shirts. Those things were my father and how I remember him best. I can still hear his voice guiding me in the stillness of my own vegetable patch. Much of his advice to me through life also applies to the lessons of raising a successful garden, whatever “garden” we may be cultivating at any given time.

Julie Hall, The Estate Lady®, is the foremost national expert on personal property in estates, including liquidating, advising, and appraising. http://www.TheEstateLady.com She is also the Director of American Society of Estate Liquidators®, the national educational and resource organization for estate liquidation. http://www.aselonline.com.

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent. Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com

To Honor in Death as Much as in Life

March 5, 2014 | Julie Hall

Call me old-fashioned. Call me a twentieth century throw-back. It is apparent to me each time I meet a client, pick up the latest gadget, or look in the mirror, that I came from a different time. It’s more than okay because I really liked the twentieth century, and I’m proud to have grown up at that time.

Mom and dad are gone now. Their absence is felt daily, evidenced by the huge hole in my heart and tears that well up in my eyes every time I think about how much they are missed. I am certain you can relate. I was one of the lucky ones who grew up under the strict, but loving guidance of two traditionalists.

They taught me right from wrong, disciplined me when I strayed off course, enforced curfews, taught me to prepare for what was ahead, and instilled that “this too shall pass.” They were even “realists” when it came to death. My own mother, with her fantastic sense of humor, sent me a coffin brochure, asking me if she would look better in the copper rose or the warm mahogany! It is good to laugh when you feel like crying. There’s just no way to fill a hole THAT big, so I fill it in other ways.

I want to live my life in such a way that it touches others, serves others, relieves others. I want to make a difference. Isn’t that what we all want? All we need is a little tenacity and courage to do it. Encouraging others to love and honor does not end with death. If anything, it gets magnified. Since they were proud of you (and vice versa) in life, shouldn’t that continue even after they’ve passed? Imagine living your life in such a manner, that you not only make yourself proud, but your departed loved ones too.

So too, I guide my clients through the process of dealing with their parents’ estates. Whatever decisions you make, make them in such a way that pleases you and would honor them too. Turning the other cheek is far from easy, but often necessary.

Corny? 20th century? Something out of “Leave it to Beaver” or “Father Knows Best?” You bet!

And I’m darn proud of that too!

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent. Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com

Things That Have No Place Anymore

January 21, 2014 | Julie Hall

In every home, in every estate of a deceased loved one, there are items we have to deal with that don’t seem to have a place with us anymore. Perhaps they are no longer useful, or the sentiment has worn off. Maybe there are so many items, there’s no way you can take them all!

After the family comes in and takes what they want, and some of the items have been sold or given away, there are always leftovers that can’t find a home. Old photos and slides no one wants. Brittle college diplomas and certificates from the early twentieth century. Ancient textbooks on everything from WWI nursing to social etiquette to typewriter maintenance. Old tax returns that need to be shredded and magazines and catalogs that weigh a ton. Old TV parts, metal bits and pieces, broken appliances that are stuck up in the attic. Prescription meds, record albums, small appliances, old computer printers and fax machines.

Optimally, these items should have been dealt with a long time ago so it doesn’t put the family in a crisis mode when the time comes. Old appliances and computers can be recycled, as can the endless paper piles we find. Metal can be scrapped; $100 is better than hauling it to the trash, right? Prescription medications need to be dissolved in vinegar before flushed to neutralize the meds, or better yet, dissolve them and place them in a container with old coffee grounds or kitty litter.

These items should be disposed of properly, but it makes us feel guilty when we are throwing away things like old photos or slides. After all, who has time to go through 10,000 slides from the 1950’s?

Let me share a quick story. I used to be one who didn’t have time to go through all the family slides … until mom died. I brought the slides home and at night while watching TV, I used a little light-up viewer I bought on Ebay to see which ones we wanted to keep. I found a gold mine! Photos of dad on his ship in the Navy, mom and dad’s engagement in 1953, early baby photos of me and my brother never seen before, photos of all the kids and cousins from long ago. I had these selected slides made into prints and distributed them to family members. The thank you letters, emails, and phone calls came pouring in. It was like they each won a small lottery and were most appreciative to have these never-before-seen photos. In my case, it was worth the effort.

If family does not claim these items, or there is no family left, sadly, these items either need to be discarded, donated, shredded. And it’s okay to do that — you have permission to do that. If no one else wants them or needs them, let them go with respect.

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent. Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com

Lessons Learned as an Expert in “Things”

January 6, 2014 | Julie Hall

Happy New Year!

As an expert in personal property, my days are filled with visiting estates, consulting with my clients, and ascertaining what has value versus what does not. I help boomer children make sound decisions after mom and dad have passed on, and work closely with seniors, helping them make a plan for their heirlooms and understanding their worth. My world revolves around many beautiful things and what they may be worth; then sadly, I watch people fight over those things after a loved one dies.

Having met with thousands of individuals in my career, I can safely say I have learned from each and every one of them. Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. We exit this world the way we enter it, owning nothing but a beautiful spirit that houses love and memories earned over a lifetime. You can’t take anything with you, so why fight over things.

2. Things do bring instant gratification, but not long-lasting happiness. So we keep buying more things to keep feeling good. Too many of us fill our lives with things to ease unresolved pain and issues. As we continue to go out and go into debt buying ourselves the latest electronic or gadget, we are still left unfulfilled and discontented. We buy to feel good. We buy because we deserve it. We buy because we are depressed. But in the long run, it ends up in the hands of family or a professional, such as myself, to sell it.

3. It‘s what you do with what you have that really counts, not what you possess. In these challenging economic times, it’s important to remember there are others dealing with greater difficulties than ourselves. Even while we tighten our purse strings, we can still give in many ways, for which others would be so grateful.

Give of yourself.
Go visit someone you’ve been meaning to see for a long time.
Write that letter.
Bake those cookies.
Volunteer for those needing help.
Visit shut-ins.
Surprise a loved one.
Make that phone call to make amends, because you and your mom haven’t spoken in years.
Bring your children to an assisted living or nursing home and watch the residents light up.
Say what you need to say, and do so right away.
Ask for forgiveness and offer it, no matter what.
Offer hugs to those who really need them.
Listen to your elders because you will learn so much.

4. If you have an older adult in your life … Spend a full day with them and ask them to share stories of your family history – fun stories, challenges, family secrets, marriages – and look through old photos. Record this day and make a book for them (and copies for each sibling) so it may be passed down for years to come. Many children regret not having more family history, but they realize this after a loved one has left us. Take a photograph of this special day and frame it.

5. Get your children involved in their own legacy. TALK, don’t text. Include older generations in activities with the younger children, if possible. It won’t do them any harm to listen to grandma’s stories and bake cookies, instead of them playing on their Xbox. Precious time is slipping away for all of us. Make the most of it by making meals and eating together, talking, sharing, and most of all, mending anything that needs mending.

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent. Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com

Reflection

December 17, 2013 | Julie Hall

There is a time for everything; now is the time of year to not only give to others, but to give to yourself as well. Sometimes I think we forget that.

In between decking the halls and flocking to malls, making sure you’ve made a list and checked it twice, singing “Jingle Bells” in every possible rendition, and finding yourself frustrated with the crowds and traffic and (yes, you can say it) the greed you see, we have forgotten to do one very special thing for ourselves … reflect. There’s only so much one human being can do, and we humans have a tendency to go on auto-pilot during the holidays.

The New Year marks a happy time for most people, because we get to “start all over again.” What we should be doing is skimming back through 2013.

Facing whatever the year held for us is important: the pain, the struggles, the tears, and the worries. But let us also not forget the joy, the strength, and the obstacles we overcame. Some people are afraid to look back. It isn’t healthy to stay there very long, but it is ok to compare it to where you are now. You’ve come a long way and you should be proud of yourself.

It was a rough year for many people. If we take the time to look back, even for a few uninterrupted and peaceful moments, we can see that the past is indeed past; yet we are moving forward at what feels like warp speed. It is in reflecting that we can also see how we’ve had an effect on people’s lives or how they’ve affected ours. It is a time to envision how we could have done things better, and feel good about the positive things that have transpired. It is about personal growth when it comes to the bad stuff we went through.

This personal reflection shows us how strong we became as we battled the indescribable pain of losing a loved one, losing a job, or even sometimes, our sense of “self.” It is also in that reflection that we should remember those far less fortunate than ourselves — to put things into perspective and realize we are not as bad off as we may think or feel.

It isn’t about loss. It’s about gain.

Now you can move forward teaching others because you have an experience you didn’t have before. If everyone had a better attitude, if everyone took the time to reflect on themselves, if everyone learned to forgive themselves and others, the world would be a much better place. But since neither you nor I can control the world, all we can do is work on our little corner of it. Our job is not to solve the problems of the universe. It’s just to be the best that we can be at who we are and what we do (and the word “perfection” does exist when it comes to that).

Imagine a world where everyone tried to be their best. Now that’s worth reflecting on!

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent. Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com

“Dear Dad” (part 2)

October 9, 2013 | Julie Hall

Part 2

Here are the words a daughter used to encourage her father to face fears of dementia. You can also watch as Julie reads her letter for her father: http://youtu.be/7yrzE6lGHic

Dear Dad,

I love you and mom more than you could ever know. We don’t say it every day, but it is always there, always in our hearts. I was just thinking how odd it must be for you to be seeing multiple doctors, because you never did care for them much, but as you say, “the body is starting to wear out.”

I recall a conversation you and I had recently at your dining room table one morning. You told me “not to get old.” Well dad, I really want to get old; may God bless me with a long and fruitful life. I have so much to do, so much to learn, and so much to give back. Mostly, I have much to live for — a beautiful family, where I would love to see my daughter grow and flourish, and see her children find their way into this world. I want to grow old by my husband’s side — wrinkles, aches, and all. I can see myself as a frumpy old lady in my garden, talking to the birds and an old cat.

In a world where money and material possessions are priorities, I learned at a young age that those things are great to have, but do not bring happiness or guarantee anything good. It’s all about the relationships we build and sustain that are important. I believe that when we leave this place, we take only what we have accrued during our lifetime: important lessons, love for family and friends, good times.

Dad, you confided in me that your memory is not what it used to be and that it has you worried. It is very important to share this with Dr. Jones so he can give you the appropriate tests to rule out certain causes. I am a little concerned about your memory, because you are concerned. There are many reasons why memory can become foggy, and many of the reasons are fixable.

Mom said you cancelled your doctor appointment, but how can you nip this in the bud if you keep cancelling appointments? If the shoe were on the other foot, and it was me, mom, or brother, wouldn’t you encourage us to get to the bottom of it? Of course you would. You would say you cannot run from this sort of thing and to hit it straight on, and you would be right. We come from a long line of strong, tenacious people. Empower yourself, dad, and get the facts so you don’t have to worry.

Please also consider that you have a wife and two children who adore you and want you around for a very long time. While we have no control over how much time we have in this life, we do have control over the decisions we make, and this would be a good one … to see the doctor and get tests done so they can help you with your memory. Making good decisions is something you always taught us. Did you think I wasn’t listening all these years? I have been.

If I have upset you, that certainly was not my intent. My words came from a place and concern and love for both you and for mom. Think about this before you cancel any more appointments. You have always practiced and preached the very principles of Dale Carnegie, and we learned that from you. I’ll be the first to admit I am not crazy about doctors, but you might be able to head off some memory issues if you find out what is causing them.

As a child growing up, you would always say to me, “Just give it some thought, Julie, and you will come to the right conclusion.” You probably thought I never listened, but if that were the case, how did I end up this smart? <grin> Give it some thought, Dad. Do it for you, for Mom, for us. Do it because you deserve to know. If it’s nothing, then it would have been worry for no reason. If it is something then we will face it all together. That’s what family is for.

Per la famiglia (To family)! Ti amo (I love you)!

Julie

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent. Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com

“Dear Dad”

October 1, 2013 | Julie Hall

Part 1

There comes a time in everyone’s lives where you either face the demon or you don’t. Not one to shy away from much, including a nasty demon who was helping himself to my father, something simply had to be done.

I knew long before anyone else in the family that dad was exhibiting signs of dementia. When I brought it up to my mom and sibling back in 2006, they thought I was nuts … only, I wasn’t. It was the one time I wished I was wrong. It wasn’t long before dad knew something was wrong too. One day he confided in me that he was worried because his once sharp memory was “fading fast and he couldn’t remember things anymore.”

I encouraged dad to see his family doctor for testing, but he never did or he cancelled appointments. Mom didn’t push the issue, despite my sweet badgering, because as I was to learn later on, she was afraid. So afraid to uncover the truth that it seemed to paralyze her, and she was a strong woman.

The letter I will share with you is a very personal demonstration of love between my father and myself, and how I saw things as they were rudely unfolding and trying to blacken our world. Not knowing what to do, or even how to begin doing it, I looked deep inside to find the right kind of solution because I felt damn helpless. All my life I could solve any problem, help anyone, come up with solutions. But I couldn’t beat this … not with all the tenacity in the world!

Of everything that I had heard about dementia, how could anything ever be right again? It was that quiet inner voice that won my attention and I tried to reach my father through the love I had for him. “Love conquers all,” they say, and if that is true, my words would touch my father’s soul. That is exactly what I intended. If I couldn’t help him fight and win, the least I could do was offer love and hold him up.

I just found this special letter in a box among my mother’s “keepsakes” from her estate; she kept it for a reason. If you know anyone who can benefit from it, please pass it along, because it worked. It reached both mom and dad and we all faced this demon together. Being the front guy facing this enemy is the single, most frightening experience of my life. There was no sword big enough, nor shield large enough to protect from its talons. But there is always love …

Part 2 … coming next week

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent. Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com

The Violin

July 9, 2013 | Julie Hall

The unexpected grandeur was almost more than I could handle. I have never felt my spirit soar quite like this, having explored the entire interior of Alaska this month. Being in the midst of such untouched beauty is exactly what the doctor ordered to renew my soul after losing so much personally last year.

Part of the trip was a luxury cruise, and like most cruises, one has a tendency to get a bit lazy eating way too much. It did not surprise me that my teenage daughter went in one direction, and hubby and I went in another. There was a small lounge on our way back to the cabin that had hourly entertainment, and it was there that my ears instantly lead me to, almost as if I had to go listen. From a distance I could hear the delicate but soulful draw of the bow against the violin, an instrument I have always had an affection for. In the wrong hands, this instrument can make your head hurt and create cringes as powerful as nails on a chalkboard. In the right hands, it will bring the listener to tears.

The group was originally from the Philippines, with one on the violin and another on classical guitar. What drew me to their sound was the perfection of what I heard, and “perfection” is not a word I use easily. Having studied classical music for most of my childhood and adolescence, I knew a pro when I heard them. The violin is a temperamental instrument, so when you found someone who could make it sing, it was always worth listening.

During their short break, the violin sat by itself on the polished black baby grand. Alone, it was a pretty thing, but it was just an inanimate object that sat there waiting for its owner. It was powerless without him. The gentleman dressed in black returned, picked up the violin, and nestled it under his chin, drawing his bow in preparation to play.

From the moment that bow met with the strings, I knew that this wooden instrument was more a part of him than his own arm. He had clearly dedicated his life to the pursuit of beautiful music and had a love affair with this violin, rarely seen. It was not a matter of commanding the violin to do what he wanted; it was a matter of letting his spirit invade it and the two becoming one. He played classics from all eras, including some easy listening, some classical, some love songs. My eyes never left his upper torso, witnessing how much love he had for the sound they created together, and how his body moved with the violin, bringing it to life. The violin was only too happy to perform.

Corny as it sounds, when he started playing Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I just lost it and the tears came. Never had I heard such clarity, felt such powerful emotion and admiration … on a cruise ship for that matter! His talent was wasted here in the middle of the North Pacific, or so I thought before realizing how much pleasure he brought to those who were listening.

I don’t know his name, this stranger who brought me to tears. Perhaps it was the breathtaking scenery of ice capped mountains, icebergs, and glaciers that had already touched me. what I do know is how rare it is to find someone who has dedicated themselves to one thing, in the quest of being the best they can be. Clearly, he had a calling and a gift, but we all do whether we realize it or not. The time has come to look within ourselves to uncover our gifts so that we can move forward in our lives, touching others with our gifts. I believe this is the purpose of our lives.

Whoever he is, he will never know the positive impact he had on me. I can only hope someone will discover him and get him on a stage where he can touch many more!

Venturing Outside “The Box”

June 28, 2013 | Julie Hall

There’s a place we all retreat to that is as comfortable as our favorite pair of old blue jeans. We have a tendency to stay inside our box so we feel we are in a protected territory, comforted and safe from the world out there. It is a place that, while not very adventurous, virtually assures us an existence of simplicity and familiarity; there is nothing wrong with that if it’s what we choose.

This was my year to go outside of my nice, comfy box and I knew it would take much self-talk to get it done. Deep down, I love the idea of adventure, but end up being a weenie … kind of like the canary who dreams of being an eagle. Numerous internal conversations between the many Julies that exist inside me said it was time to do things I had never done before … to go beyond my comfort zone.

I decided it was time for a little adventure. Maybe it’s time to feel alive again. Maybe it’s just a mid-life crisis. Maybe it’s because I had a lovely, but very cautious upbringing and felt the need to break out of the mold just a little bit. So here’s what I did:

I kayaked among Orcas in 1,200 feet of pristine water, admiring ancient forests from the ice age and bald eagles soaring overhead, as my paddles gently cut through the water. Not a sound to be heard except me and nature. Even seals popped up in curiosity. I should have worn a diaper, but I was so awestruck, I didn’t even feel nervous.

Always afraid of heights, I encouraged myself to get on a tiny “bubble” helicopter and see glaciers and mountains from a different point of view. Even though the pilot didn’t look old enough to drive, I really pushed myself to enjoy the adventure and it was exhilarating! Truth be told, I was happy to have my feet on the ground again, but would have denied myself this beauty had I not gone high in the sky. Here are some images of that flight.

Look at the gorgeous blue glacier lake on the white snow from 5,000 feet up. It looks like Tide detergent on a white sheet!

I trekked the top of a glacier, hearing crunches and crackling of ice with every step I took. Some steps looked as if I was walking on water as you could see running water under the clear icy surface. They say some of these pockets are several hundred feet deep and I certainly didn’t want to end up in one of them. But, how many times will I ever get to walk on a glacier? That is what fueled my feet to go further.

To see a gathering of humpback whales working together to feed was an incredible and incomparable experience. They say it is rare to see this, but we saw it several times. I was lucky enough to catch a photo, with my husband holding onto me in the back of a rocky boat and me hanging over the edge to get the photo. I was the only one to get it too, because I was willing to go over the edge, with a little help from hubby. How awesome is this?

We ventured farther into Denali than most. To see this vast, protected land with wild animals and ecosystems that work in sync with each other was really a sight to behold. Thank God for the people who conserve such places. Mt. McKinley (Denali) is breathtaking!

I did not go on the world’s biggest zip line. OK, so I chickened out on that one, but I figured, “Why tempt fate with a dinky metal cable?” No matter how much self-talk I engaged in, the answer was always “NO way!”

I am blessed! Blessed that I was able to have these experiences, blessed with wonderful family and friends, blessed in many aspects. Ultimately, the ability to go outside our comfort zone is a very personal decision. All I kept asking myself during this trip was, “What if I hadn’t done these things?” Look at what I would have missed!

So here I sit in the comfort of my office sharing this with you. I can honestly say I didn’t miss riding the biggest zip line in the world. Now that I can live with!

Don’t Mess with My Mojo

January 24, 2013 | Julie Hall

Twinkies are soon to be a thing of the past. How could they do that to us carb-aholics who suffer from a permanent sweet tooth and require the perfect comfort food? I can hear mom say, “All good things must come to an end,” but seriously, Twinkies? There goes a special taste from my childhood, along with a few cholesterol points. Sometimes I wish everyone would leave well enough alone. It’s true that we become creatures of habit and enjoy things our way. Then one day we wake up, and someone has messed with our mojo – again.

The same is true for the different chapters in our lives. One day, if we’re lucky, we find the love of our life, then a baby or two arrive, along with mounting responsibilities. Our children grow in the blink of an eye; we start to age. Suddenly, our parents get old, sick, and pass away. So much of this we learn as we move through it. There is great joy, there is great sorrow, and there is everything in between. Just when we understand how to handle it, life throws us a new experience and it all changes again.

I think much of life is about our ability to adapt and accrue wisdom, painful as it may be.

So too, when I am handling an estate where a loved one has recently become ill or died, it is important to remember that each of us bears the scars of loneliness, frustration, pain, depression/anxiety, grief, worry, etc. This is why I go the distance to always treat my clients as if they are family, because I understand their pain. Their mojo will never be the same, and if I can shed a little bit of light and direction at that given moment and alleviate some of their heaviness, I have lived a good day.

The bottom line is I can live without the Twinkies, but I can’t live without my nearest and dearest very well. I need to get over the fact that people and circumstances will mess with my mojo, with or without my permission.

I just looked outside my window at the backyard to see the many squirrels eating the bird seed that has fallen to the ground. Out of the blue, a large bird of prey swooped low and plucked an unsuspecting squirrel who suddenly found himself air-bound. Man, did someone mess with his mojo. All things considered, I’m doing okay … comparatively speaking.