Sunday, October 4, 2015


South Beach, Oregon

What a week this has been.  Another shooting. Families left grieving and hurting. People arguing over what we should or shouldn't do, how much did our President say, how little did our President say. The list is never ending.

What I do know is that the lives of the victims families will forever be changed. Whenever such a tragedy occurs people will post how we need to be kind to each other and then everyone goes back to how they were. Jobs become more important, money becomes our god, stuff becomes the must have and we forget.

This morning I went for a long walk on the beach and reflected on all the people in my life and how each one has helped me grow and become the person I am today. My foundation is my family and how blessed I am to have been born into this crazy, loving family. My mother is my stability, and my siblings will fight my battles whether I want them to or not. My Aunts and Uncles and kajillion cousins will always be there to circle the wagons when I need protection.

With this strong, loving foundation how could I not have chosen the amazing friends I have in my life today. This week I received an email from a friend in Spain who thanked me for coming into his life, a friend who should have been a therapist and I feel absolutely guilty for not paying him for his advice. Besos. Another friend, after a long phone call, declared "You know what you need, a visit from me." and promptly made his reservations to visit. NNM the 16th, the wine is waiting.  A football game with my most level headed friend, appearing on the jumbotron 3 times and laughing, lots and lots of laughing.

Last year I wrote a letter to friends letting them know how much they mean to me and what a difference they made in my life. I still have a few more to mail. This should be my project when I feel the walls start to close in.  Instead of wallowing, get to writing.

I reflected on my previous marriage and how I never thought that the ex and I would ever have come to a place of peace.  My life now has so many uncertainties, but is filled with trust, love and hope. To be able to give the gift of solitude and peace and to know that instead of letting go to just let it be.

My greatest gift and the person who has taught me so many lessons about life, love and trust is T. That kid that is wiser than his 23 years, who sometimes has to give me the pep talks to keep me going, and who hasn't ever disappointed.

So while many are arguing about what is currently going on in the world, I chose to take two hours today to reflect on those that fill my soul, the people that keep me going and to whom I hope I do show love and kindness to every, single, day.

Sunday, September 27, 2015


South Beach, Oregon
Today was the total eclipse of the supermoon, 1982 was the last time it occurred and I don't remember it (those teenage years where the world revolved around me) and the next time this is to happen is in 2033.

It is at times like this that I lovingly refer to as "creating memories moments" to which much eye rolling and bitching from Trevor ensues. None the less he drove around with me as we searched for the moon.

Our first stop was our favorite spot to take a picture of the sunset and as always it never fails to make me stop, breathe and let the peace and calm sweep over me.

We then waited for the darkness to blanket the skies and then drove around to find the best place to view the moon. While I love the trees in front of our home, they blocked our view of this great event.

We finally found the perfect spot and seeing the blood red moon was truly breathtaking. I attempted to take a picture and realized that I could never capture anything so I put my phone away and just took it all in.

As I was looking at the moon I realized that there were so many people in my life that I love and care for that were looking up at the same moon and at that time I have never felt more of a connection, loved and completely at peace.

Friday, July 10, 2015

Music. Food for the Soul.

Adam Jackson 

Growing up in South Africa my parents involved us from a very early age in the theatre and arts. I remember going to plays with my parents and then performing in plays. The first play I performed in was Oliver Twist, but my most favorite play I performed in was The Wind in the Willows.  As all good children do I played the piano and the recorder and those long afternoons of practicing and dear Sister Helen 'tapping' my knuckles with a thin cane should I dare to make an error.

In high school I stopped playing the piano, but my love for all things musical never dwindled. I spent many weekend evenings at the symphony, the opera and the ballet. Seeing the Bolshoi Ballet, The Royal Ballet and the New York City Ballet perform was absolutely breathtaking. No matter what event I attended my cheeks were always damp from the tears. (Except for the opera The Flying Dutchman, that is one very long, loud, boring opera)

Since moving to America and becoming a wife and mother, I stopped attending any of these events. Expense being one reason another that my spouse at the time did not hold the same fascination I did and so I gave that up and in a sense lost a little part of me.

This past week at the hotel there was a music festival. The list of performers was very impressive. I had heard that a young boy, Adam Jackson, was going to be performing and was able to watch him perform for a very select audience. When he first started to play I was transported back in time. As I watched his fingers lightly dance over the keys I was mesmerized. The part of me that I thought I had lost came alive again.

As I wiped my damp cheeks I remembered a great quote from Berthold Auerbach, "Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life."

I couldn't agreed more.

Friday, May 8, 2015

144 Steps.

South Beach, Oregon
I have been meaning to write this blogpost for a while and recently read a blog online that May is Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Month, so this couldn't be a more perfect time for my post.

One beautiful Oregon morning I walked to the beach from our home. I decided to count the steps from our backdoor to the first steps to the beach. 144 Steps. As I looked out towards the ocean, a little out of breath, I found myself thinking about those suffering with Cystic Fibrosis. How challenging would 144 steps be? I don't know much about the disease and have done research and will confess I still don't know much, but when someone you know has CF you want to educate yourself a little more and do what you can to help find the cure.

This is no ice bucket challenge and I don't expect this to go viral, what I am hoping is that you all will walk out your front door, count 144 steps and take a picture of what is in front of you. Post on Twitter with the hashtag #144Steps #CysticFibrosis, or on Facebook and then most importantly, if you are able to, make a donation to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. Every little bit helps. It takes a village remember? Click on this link > Cystic Fibrosis Foundation

I hope that you will share this with friends and family, we can make a difference.  And to one of the most amazing woman I know who exudes glitter and rainbows, this blog is for you.

Monday, May 4, 2015

Thank You Al Gore for my Friends.

I remember when we first got dial up and how much excitement there was that we could connect to things and other people so quickly. The tone, the connection, the wait. Pandora's box had been opened and there was no going back.

It was through the internet in 1999 that I met my first online friends, Heidi and Renee. We all belonged to a South African chat forum and the three of us fast became friends, the three musketeers, the terrible trio. Together we have dealt with death, divorce, Hurricane Katrina, moves across country, graduations, weddings of children and so much more. In the 16 years we have known each other we have only physically met once. In 2012 Heidi decided that we were going to road trip to Napa and when Heidi puts her mind to something, nothing can change it, you all just nod, say yes and show up. Meeting Heidi and Renee for the very first time was very emotional. If there was a bond of friendship before, our meeting only solidified it.

November 2, 2009 I decided to enter the world of blogging, mainly as a creative online medium for my rants and thoughts. One of my very first followers, and blogs that I in turn followed, was a blog written by Brooke. Her husband was in the military and she had two little girls. The ultimate military wife. We would post comments on each others blogs and engage in small talk. Then along came Twitter and it was discovered that we both had a mutual friend in common. Life happened and Brooke and her two adorable girls moved back to Oregon. The very first time I met Brooke was a sleepover at my home. Do I need to say anymore? Brooke is my bestie, my go to person when I need an adjustment, a compassionate, but very level headed individual who brings calm to my life. Plus she likes loves wine.

Without Twitter and the internet I would never have met the fabulous Kramer crew and the wonderful world of their wine and sparkles. One tweet about having a sparkle party and I turned into that stray cat that one knows you shouldn't feed, but do. The Kramer crew would have to go into witness protection to get rid of me. Beyond blessed.

My Fuck It list includes meeting the following amazing people I have met via the internet and had interactions via Skype and on the phone, but yet to meet in person. I am blessed to know these very wise individuals who probably tolerate my neediness, but with kindness have never made me feel as though I was that needy person.

Mitchell from Mitchell is Moving
Linda from The Good, The Bad, The Worse
Megan - The Navy wife in Japan who no longer blogs, but is on FB and is just like me.
Alex from the very hot Arizona area. My biggest cheerleader.

So to Al Gore I wish to say thank you for bringing these wonderful people into my life. What would I have done without the internet? Probably found another way to stalk people I guess.