Giving Up the Keys

I'm convinced this was the breaking point for the Belle. When she started mowing over the mailbox and parking the car in the front yard, we had to act.

Driving is a privilege, not a right. I've given this lecture to teenagers and I've given it to oldies.

I admire people who can say, "You are driving. Here are my keys"

China and crystal

If there is a fire or a natural disaster, what would you grab? Other than the obvious of getting your family and pets to safety, most people choose photos or other collectibles.

I want my china and crystal. I want the bowls my grandmother and Aunt Judy gave me. I have an obscene and bizarre attachment to my dishes. The Old Country Roses collection is my favorite. Second to that would be my Lenox Christmas collection. I also have a 12-days of Christmas dessert collection. I have a set of plain white china rimmed in gold that I got at Pottery Barn. I have a set of plain white china rimmed in silver that I use whenever somebody feels like polishing the flatware.

As I learned this weekend, lots of people have duplicate photos of our family and friends.

I would go for my dishes. And, of course, my laptop.

I do realize someone is now going to think I am obsessed with possessions. Not really -- just dishes.

Clean Up on Aisle Four

When you're in the grocery store and you hear over the loud speaker, "Clean up in aisle four," you probably think it's some toddler running wild. No. It's probably me.

I'm renaming my life. I'm Aisle Four.

I used to be organized but now a clean-up is needed. I've got to stop looking for vital information on scraps of paper.

I've got to clean up my attitude. Right now, people are avoiding Aisle Four.

I've got to gain some weight. (I know that is irritating to those of you who struggle with losing pounds. Trust me, a struggle is a struggle on either end of the spectrum.)

I've got to declutter this house. Aisle four has permeated every room. I used to blame a lot of this on the oldies but lately the husband has developed a bizarre attachment to the shredder and I'm shuffling little scraps of paper from room to room. Truthfully, I don't mind. It makes me think of the oldies. But I tend to run around with a broom or a vacuum.

Rolling the Dice

It's easier to get into trouble than to get out of it.

Weren't we all taught this as children? I was. Of course, it didn't stop me from occasionally rolling the dice and risking the repercussions. This is one of those lessons we were supposed to learn early.

Many households are in trouble -- so much trouble that they may not have a household. Banks are holding onto money like a squirrel that found the last walnut. The $750 billion, trillion, gazillion government bailout is shaky and not working yet. At some point, these numbers stop making sense to me.

I'm over self-indulgent children and I include myself. I'm over leveraging my future and yours because our government chose to roll the dice.

My Editor

In another attempt at blatant self-promotion, I will share that I have been invited to join the blog staff of our local newspaper. (www.indystar.com/intouch)

When I was in journalism school, editing was a dose of empowerment and a dose of fear. I could glide through the day on a compliment of a well composed sentence. I could put my head in the pillowcase over a typo.

I love having an editor. I'm trying not to drive her crazy. I will learn when to make my case and when to shut my mouth. She will learn when to ignore me.

As they said in Casablanca, "This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

I've had teachers, editors, bosses and more. My favorite editor is the one I call and say, "Hi Mom. What do you think?"

Horoscopes

I don't believe in horoscopes any more than I believe in Nostradamus' ability to predict the future. Yet, I read them and I often go "Whoa!" I also read the husband's.

Today my horoscope was:
You can mourn over recent losses, but you're starting to realize that there is too much living to do and you simply don't have the time.

This was jarring to me on several levels. First of all, I've been enjoying quite the pity party for myself. Then, I will admit to some startling opportunities in my mix. They may pan out-- they may not, but they are there for the plucking.

Time is something we all juggle.

I'll stick with prayer and some hard work. But, I'll still glimpse at my horoscope.

Missing Halloween

My neighborhood is filled with people similar to us -- empty nesters. Almost all the children of this small circle have grown. In our old house, we used to get oodles of trick-or-treaters. In this house, we usually get one or two.

We used to attend Halloween parties and/or golf outings. I can't count the many costumes I've made or adapted.

I miss Halloween. Maybe this year I'll don a hooded sweatshirt and sit at the kitchen table eating my bag of candy. I'll be Hangdog a/k/a the Unabomber.