A clear conscience...

... is usually a sign of a bad memory.

Take a minute and read this blog:

http://zenhabits.net/scarce/

Sounds great, doesn't it?

Now take a minute and read this (or skim it: there's a lot of ranting there):

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2011/09/13/1016557/-That-was-my-brothers-death-you-were-cheering,-you-a$$holes

It's a different view of scarcity, isn't it?

I think that's what annoys me the most about the so-called "Simple Living" people. They are making a deliberate choice to do without. But so many people are FORCED to do without. So the Simpler Livers coming off sounding sanctimonious. I know that's not the intent, but it's what happens.

::shaking my head:: I can understand making a virtue out of adversity, but let it be a choice, okay?

Good judgment comes from experience,

... and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.

I'm in the process of house hunting with my husband. We are doing this from 250 miles away, so we're house hunting on the Internet (oh, what an interesting process that is!)

Through a long story best told over a drink in a bar, we somehow ended up talking with a person whose house is for sale. In a long, long conversation we found out it's in foreclosure, the man & his wife don't know if they'll be evicted, the house has 'a few cosmetic problems but it's in a great location' and...

The story continues. My initial response was 'how can someone let themselves get stuck in a situation like that.' Then I took a step back and realized, 'hmm. that can easily happen. Look at us. For a time, we'll carry two mortgages until we sell our current house. What if...'


Yep. It's important to keep it in perspective. There but for the grace of God (and a bit of good judgment) go I...

It is better to be pleasantly absent...

...than miserably present.

Yep, I've been absent, and for a while it was unpleasant, but lately it's been pleasantly so.

The unpleasant was dealing with my mother's death in November. That's a black hole of time and emotion. Her death was expected -- she was ill and her death was, I think, a blessing to her -- but her loss is still grievous to me. We were very close and I miss her dearly. But she would hate for me to dwell on it, so I'm trying not to.

Then Christmas rolled around and, lo and behold, I discovered a few days before Christmas that I had no web site -- the host company decided to un-host me. So I had to scramble to put together a new web site. Along the way I decided I didn't want a 'regular' web site (one that required me to use special software in order to update it). So that led me think about Cloud Computing (yes, my mind wanders in odd and strange ways), and voila, I have a slog -- a web site blog.

Is it perfect? Nope. But it's Okay. And that led me to think about perfection. Why do we strive for what we perceive to be "just right"? The world is not trampling a path to my web site. It's okay if it's not perfect. It's okay if some people go, 'ew. How odd. Why not have a Real Web Site." The new site does what I want: it lets me update it easily, I can get out word about my books, and I can add content whenever I feel like it.

Win-win-win as far as I'm concerned.

You know, the older I get, the more I think it's not the Hokey-Pokey ("that's what it's all about"). It's about time and how we manage it and our absences.

The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight,

 ...because by then your body and your fat have gotten to be really good friends.

Oh, this one makes such good sense to me.

I gained 25 pounds when I quit smoking 22 years ago. There were a combination of factors. I quit smoking. We moved to a house where I now had to drive everywhere instead of walk. And we moved to a location with convenient fast food nearby.

That last thing is HUGE. Prior to the move, fast food was a long walk away (it didn't make sense to drive. We were in a large metro area and driving was a pain). But after the move, I drove by a fast food place almost every day. It was so convenient, so easy, so simple ...

...so fattening. I didn't realize it until we moved to our current home and the weight kept adding on. Fast food was there, simple, easy ... I tried now and then to lose weight, but I never really put my heart into it. And that's what it takes. You. Have. To. Want. It. It's really that simple. You have to find a diet that works for you and stick with it. Counting calories has always worked for me. Very easy: count what goes in, count the exercise expended. Exercise should be more than calorie.

And I did it. I lost most of the weight. Yes, I gained some back, but overall: it's off. And it will stay off. Because I realized something very valuable about myself: given the chance, I will eat like a horse. And I can't afford to do that. It's really very simple. It's not whether or not I *deserve* that donut. I can't have it. Next question.

So think about it:if you haven't gained weight, try not to. And if you have, work at getting it gone. You'll feel better about it in the long run.

Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day...

Teach a man to fish and he'll sit in a boat drinking beer all day.

I don't understand hunting or fishing for sport. I can somewhat understand the enjoyment in pitting one's intelligence against a wild animal, but I don't understand how anyone can kill another creature.

Side note: yes, I eat meat. Yes, I know where it comes from. Yes, I know there are many places in the U.S. with inhumane animal handling plants that process my meat. I don't have an answer for this except I try to buy cage-free and organic when I can. It's a sop to my conscience, but there you are.

I just don't get the whole 'killing' thing. I don't understand how one can look at a creature which is as beautiful as a doe and kill it. I know they're urban nuisances (because humans have invaded their territory and killed off their natural predators, but don't get me started on that!) and I know that 'culling' is good for the herd.

But why do people get enjoyment out of it? I don't know. And you know what -- I'll just go out of my way to avoid those who do enjoy it. I'm not going to understand it; they're not going to understand me. Why give myself the stress? I'll just avoid 'em.

Now if they would sit in a boat and drink beer all day then eventually fall in ...

WIN!

Letting the cat out of the bag...

... is a lot easier than getting the cat back in.

Or, another way to phrase it is: Think before you speak.

I found this out the hard way a few years ago. I was relatively new to publishing and when I got a lousy cover, I said to my editor at the time that I thought it was an inappropriate cover (yep. That's it).

I thought my editor would be on my side. But no! She was on the publisher's side. Said publisher did PANELS at various conferences about how little a cover matters. Said publisher did presentations on the subject. According to them, cover art isn't a draw for readers -- good writing is.

Sigh.

The long and the short of it? My editor decided she could no longer work with me and requested a transfer. I had 3 (or maybe it was 4) editors after that and I'm no longer submitting books to that publisher. And a good thing, too, since they're changing how they manage the mainstream branch of their publishing house (where my books sat).

The moral of the story? Think before you speak. But if you feel you have to speak, damn it, go ahead and speak. There may be fallout but it may be all for the better.

Only time will tell.

Pain and suffering are inevitable

... but misery is optional.

Oh, I can attest to this one. I've been helping my elderly mother as she copes with emphysema. This is not a pretty disease. It saps your strength, it invades every waking moment of your day, and there is little anyone can do about it.

I'm 250 miles away, so it's hard for me to be with her a lot. I do go as much as I can, usually for a week at a time. I'm fortunate because I have a job where I can log in and work remotely, and I'm able to work around her doctor appointments, etc.

There are no good outcomes here, of course. This is a wasting disease and the most we can hope for is that she's comfortable. She's not happy being restricted like this. She's 91 and up until last year, she was totally active, in a restrained way: she played bridge 2 times a week, she went to club meetings, she could get her groceries. Now she sits in a chair and that's about it. Getting up and going to dinner is exhausting and takes it all out of her.

I hate to see this happen, but at least she's not miserable. She's not taking out her anger on the people around her. She's handling this with grace and dignity, and believe me, I appreciate that. Misery truly is optional, and she's doing every thing she can to keep her misery from washing over the people around her.

I can learn a lot from her. A lot.