Dieting

I am not waiting for New Year's resolutions to put myself on a diet--I have already started! Although my diet will certainly impact me, it will also have an effect on others including local businesses, my family and friends, my environment and perhaps even stock prices at Budweiser. I am beginning a three year financial diet which promises to be quite a challenge. Instead of cutting carbs, I will be cutting cards! In this case, I will be using the FDIC: Financial Diet Is Compulsory! To compensate, I have started a list of all the free and low cost activities to fill my time. I have another list of all the things I wish to do (and buy) when this financial fast is over! For once, I will welcome being fat (financially) and happy....

The simple things

The past several months have been a bit of a challenge for me. I have decided to make a list of all those "little" things that I am going to appreciate when I am back to my norm. These are some of the things, I miss most--laughing out loud until the tears roll down my cheeks; listening to the radio and singing along at the top of my lungs as I drive down the highway; cheering (or cursing) my favorite sports teams as I watch them on TV; sitting around a loud crowd at the local bar and telling favorite stories over cold beers; and surprisingly enough, church hymns with the congregation singing along whether they can carry a tune or not. I may even come to appreciate the sound of the clock ticking away the seconds when there is no need to worry about the time of day! My list continues.....

Age

I am one of those women who will remain 39 forever!! This past weekend I celebrated life with friends in North Dakota. My friend Julie's little girl, Kate, asked how old I was and then added "are you 100?" I replied, "Kate, I am 39". Her response "Oh, almost the same as my mommy"...gotta love kid's innocence. Now if others would just believe me!

Procrastination

Here it is July 7th and I still do not have my winter clothes packed away and my summer things in the drawers...I can explain. 1. Until mid-June, the days here were wet and cool. 2. Living alone allows me the convenience of two closets--one for winter/one for summer; thus no problem with work clothes. 3) I have been gone so much of the time, I have not had enough time to sort and store. 4) The three totes with my summer clothes have been sitting on my bedroom floor for nearly a month--but rarely opened. 5) The two pairs of shorts and three tee-shirts I have worn, washed and worn again have become so familiar! 6) I still haven't had a chance to tan, so long sleeves and pants work well and; the way the weather has been world-wide, I am guessing winter will be here in September, so why bother. Trouble is, it really is too hot for flannel pajamas--gotta find my summer jammies soon.

Time

Last weekend I was back in Spencer, IA for a wedding. I drove past my old house, office, Justin's school and favorite "hot" spots--Everything looked the same, except for new coat of paint on my old house and new playground equipment at the school. In many ways, it was reassuring to see that so little had changed in the years since I started my first job after grad school.

I was able to join a group of my first "co-workers" for lunch on Friday afternoon. I was the first to arrive at the newest restaurant in town--a quaint old church, that now overlooks the river. Much of the original woodwork and stained glass windows remain, giving it a rich welcoming feel. I watched as my friends began to arrive. My dear friend Rae, a youngster in her 80's, hugged me warmly and we both started talking at once. Then I saw Jan come through the door. She hadn't changed a bit (and she was old when I worked with her) but still I leaned over and asked Rae if this was really her, considering that by now she would likely be long gone. Here she was alive and well--same hair do, style and as sharp as a tack. We were joined by Jim, Pat & Roger and their lovely wives. Linda, Pat's executive secretary, was there, too. She and I spent many nights out on the town in those early years; but neither of us could muster the energy to do it again for old time sake.

We caught up with each others lives, careers and kids and we reminisced about our days together at NW Iowa Mental Health. After a couple hours we were the only ones left in the church. Time had passed so quickly as had the years since we worked together. Yet, we all seemed pretty much the same. Sometimes time changes everything, but more often time really doesn't change the things that matter.

Friends/Family Sometimes It's All the Same

I am lucky enough to have more family than anyone I know. The past couple weeks I have had one family reunion after another. On my way home for Easter, I spent a night with my ex-family who are and always will be very much my family. We laughed, we reminisced, we shared our family stories. I spent time with great-nephews and nieces, some of whom I'd never met. Then home, for traditional family time--gizzards and beer, catching up, sleepovers, church and Easter dinner--there's no place like home. This past weekend, I met my North Dakota family for our annual reunion - "fantasy vacation". I spent so many years away from home that my North Dakota friends became my family, North Dakota became home. Now their families are my family too. Their kids are growing up and I am so blessed to be their Auntie Kim. While we were enjoying our fantasy vacation, my family expanded with the birth of a great-nephew. How wonderful to share my family experience with my North Dakota family. I am so very blessed that my family has grown as much with geography as with aging. Family/family is all about love! If I'm lucky, mine will just keep growing.

Hockey Night in Rapid City

A few weeks ago, the UND Alumni Association sponsored gatherings across the country for UND hockey fans to meet up and watch the "rivalry" game between the Gophers and the Sioux. Twenty four hockey fans turned out in Rapid City--most of us didn't know each other, but we easily conversed over cold beers and the game. As the evening ended we agreed to meet again for another game. Last night, clad in Fighting Sioux attire, I joined a group of die-hard fans at Valley Sports Bar to watch the first WCHA playoff game. Although many of the same folks were there, some newcomers joined in the party. We sat around the tables, cold beer in hand, cheering at each and every goal. I sat back and took in the crowd--several groups of basketball fans cheering for their home girl's basketball teams, a few dart players and a rowdy group of hockey fans. UND students on spring break joined the (older than average) alumni to cheer on their team. We talked about the local hangouts, the drinking games of college, dorms and classrooms & even the Red Pepper! It occurred to me that there is a bit of magic in school spirit --sometimes it takes us back in time. How great is that?

The comedy of travel

Friends and I spent a week in the Dominican Republic in early February...none of us had ever visited this beautiful place, so we were eager to get photos and souvenirs of our trip. One of the little shops along the beach had the most colorful fish mobile I have ever seen, so of course I had to have it. Not my best choice...I clearly gave no thought to transporting it home. And so the comedy begins.

The center of the mobile is made of bamboo with dowels crossing through the middle holding 42 multi-colored fish. It did not appear that the mobile could be disassembled. Lucky for me, my sister had an empty gym bag that actually held my prize possession. Carrying the bag on the first leg of the return flight was manageable and nothing was broken. Since Cindy & I were staying in NYC for a conference, I had left my winter clothing in a carry on bag at the hotel. I sent my huge suitcase back to South Dakota with my sister--leaving me my carry on suitcase, large traveling bag and the bag with my fancy souvenir. My friend, Cindy, had to medium sized suitcases and a large traveling bag.

The fun started when we left the Newark hotel to find the New Jersey transit line which would send us by rail to Penn Station in NY. Remember neither of us has ever utilized this mode of transportation and we have no idea what we are doing. A nice man with a Jersey accent tells us how to buy our tickets and how to find the landing. What he didn't clearly tell us was which side of the track we should stand on, and once you have carried all of your luggage down two flights of stairs (no elevator) and trains are arriving on each side of the track going both directions. Neither of us has a clue which direction we should be traveling. Cindy attempted several times to ask other travelers for direction, but not one acknowledged her desperate attempts for clarification. The prospect of running up two flights of stairs with 5 bags and a fragile fish mobile was far from appealing. Thank goodness there was a conductor on the train who reassured us that we were indeed on the right track.

We appeared to be the only people on the train carrying more than a purse and even more problematic--the pull-up handle on Cindy's suitcase refused to retract. So picture two "far from 30" women crowded into one train seat with one broken suitcase, two additional suitcases, two large travel bags and a fragile fish mobile! (It really was a Kodak moment). After we arrived at Penn Station, we had to find the right subway connection and figure out the token system. Again, new experiences-- as we made several attempts to buy tokens an old woman struggled to get out of the turnstile with her walker. She noted that we had several large bags and demonstrated how we had to work together to get them through the turnstile for each other--as the alarm bells rang it appeared the turnstile was also the emergency exit. Once in, we had no idea which subway to take; but a lovely little gal pushing her baby in a stroller came to our rescue. Once again we were in one seat with all of our bags & a fragile fish mobile.

We were so relieved to arrive in Manhattan in one piece, until we pulled all of our belongings from the subway to discover that we had to climb 2 flights of stairs to the street. Before we even got to the steps Cindy ran over her shoe with her broken suitcase and lost her shoe. She spoke to me several times, but I couldn't hear her over the noise of the subway station. At the point she is repeating herself for the third time she becomes so exasperated that she screams "If you say WHAT one more time, I will smack you". We laugh!

As we slowly make our way up the stairs (Cindy one suitcase up each step at a time) a young man runs past us. He then turned around and ran back down to assist Cindy with one of her bags. At first, she declined his offer, but he just grabbed her bag and raced up the steps. After a few seconds she considered that he might actually be stealing her suitcase so she tried to race up the steps behind him dragging her broken suitcase. Praise the Lord, he was waiting at the street and graciously handed over her bag. Like two bag ladies, we carted and pulled our belongings three blocks to our hotel. We checked in and found our way to the elevator.

Before the elevator door even closed, we started laughing so uncontrollably we both had tears in our eyes. Probably one of those times where we would be crying if we weren't laughing! At least I did figure out how to disassemble my fragile fish mobile before I left NY to travel back home. Oh--and we paid for a shuttle to get us back to the airport for departure--a valuable lesson learned!

Traveling can be such fun.

It's not just about hearing

At the beginning of the new year, I made a wish list of things I wanted to do this year--dieting was not on the list! Inspired by my niece, Tracy, I promised myself I would call or contact friends from the past. So for January, I called a dear, dear friend, Erna, from long ago. Erna & I worked together at the bank in Redfield in the early 70's--at that time I was a newlywed and she was a grandma. In spite of the difference in our ages, we got along famously and often hurried through the work day so we could enjoy Happy Hour at the tavern next door to the bank. We continued to keep in touch over the years, and from time to time I would even swing by her house for a "cold one" as she called it. Unfortunately, we lost touch in the past few years except for the annual Christmas card.

My phone call was answered by Erna's husband. Unfortunately, he could not hear me even the third time I shouted my name and greetings into the telephone. He offered the phone to his wife, and I repeated my greeting. After several more LOUD attempts to identify myself, she knew who I was. Although we really could not carry on much of a conversation (I offered to take her out for lunch--she responded "yes, we get lunch here"); the message was clear. After a few futile attempts to talk, Erna reminisced--"we had some great times didn't we?". Yes, we did--I smiled as I said good bye. Memories are forever.

Talking Points

I had a light bulb moment the other day, that I have pondered regularly ever since. I work with another social worker named, Cathy. Recently we have been working together on a case which requires that we catch up by telephone regularly. We always announce our names when we call--"Cathy, this is Kim". As I hung up thought about the number of times my twin sister, Kathy, and I talk by telephone and how very much different our greetings are. Kathy tends to leave her cell phone in the car or her purse when she is shopping, lunching whatever. So whenever she answers I always ask "Kathy, where are you?" If she answers "Kim" before I get to speak I know that she is busy and I quickly say to call me later. When I call the house, she chimes "Kim" when I question "Kathy?". Now I know it is her, but her response generally tells me if she is busy or able to talk. If she doesn't chime "Kim" I deduce that she is busy and only has a minute. I imagine she determines my availability from my tone as well. The experts say that baby twins have their own language--I don't know if that is true; but as adults we certainly have developed our own form of communication. Not sure why I felt a need to write that down!