Happiness

I am reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin http://www.happinessprojecttoolbox.com/manifesto.html .  This book is helping me to find ways to implement a shift from what may be my genetic predisposition to be pessimistic (50% of a happiness factor) to acknowledge the good things in my life I already have (20% of a happiness factor) and influence my attitude (30% of a happiness factor).

Here are the good things I alread have:  a lovely home, a caring husband, a smart son, creative and supportive friends, pretty good health for my age, abilities to read, write, express ideas, all five senses, abilities to walk, swim, exercise.

Taking on some specific happiness actions today will be:  going to Mt. Lemmon, celebrating my hubby's 60th today with him and our son, watching UA Baseball team in the College World Series.

What good things in life do you have and what actions can you take today to shift your attitude toward happiness?

Huck Finn at the Phoenix Art Museum

My hubby and I were in Phoenix for two days and we made a visit to the art museum to see their newest exhibit:  Paper, Paper, Paper.  I highly recommend it and it is showing there until mid-September, see www.PhxArt.org for more information.

As we we were walking out into the lobby, I saw this Norman Rockwell drawing of an iconic American folk hero, Huck Finn.  Unfortunately, in order to get the photo on hubby's Android phone camera, we had to accept the glare and reflection of a person standing in the lobby, but, in a way, it works, I think.  I hope you enjoy it and consider reading some Twain during the summer months.  Here's a line about Huck during his summer with Pap:

"It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking and fishing, and no books nor study."

the little things

It's not our favorite thing to do, but this weekend we dug into cleaning out the garage and our closet.  Thrift shops benefited from our effort and we did, too, in a way because before we started our task we were getting stuck with the gloomy economic news around the globe, the U.S., Arizona and our our life.
I don't really have anything profound to report as a result of our cleaning out, but we started a huge task (didn't finish it) and feel better that we, at least, did what we could in two days. 

Our motivation was a kick in the pants by four legged creatures who, we think, were transported into our garage from our father-in-law's garage and have made their nests around and inside our house.  These mice are not singing cute Disney songs but pooping and peeing around the corners.  We have a stray gray cat that we hoped would be fattening up on their demise but it seems Mr. Cat prefers doves to mice.
So, because of the mice, we did a tough job and so the little things in life sometimes generate results.

painting a town

Today, on CBS' "Sunday Morning", I saw a great story about a guy, recently widowed, in his mid-70's, who lives in Glouster (spelling?), Ohio.  I have been to that town with a friend.  It's a sweet place.  He said, however, that many of the houses and small businesses (cafes, hardware store) haven't been painted in years, so he decided to repaint his town.  He started with the fire hydrant and then bridge walls.  Gradually, he moved down the block and painted homes, then businesses.  Other folks joined him, and even the high school kids got into the rhythm.  If  people didn't know how to paint, they hung awnings, put up hinges on doors.  He said, quite simply and eloquently, that "when people add a fresh coat of paint, their hearts change color, too."  What a wonderful legacy he is creating.

So, I am thinking to myself today, what can I do to, metaphorically, to "paint my town?"  And, as it happens, this week I am starting my new volunteer gig at the public library as a reading partner.  So, instead of painting, I am encouraging kids (and their parents, I hope), to "turn a new page" and read.

So: what can/are you doing to "paint your town" or help it "turn a new page"?

Memorial Day memories

Growing up in Illinois, school was still in session during this holiday, although exams and proms, etc. were winding things down.  However, being a LHS band member (playing first chair, first clarinet), this holiday meant a parade through the streets of town.  Unlike our performances at football games, we didn't have to worry about freezing our ears off, but, sometimes, the day could be hot and our wool suits would be uncomfortably warm.  We'd gather at the school, take the bus to the library, and join the "other" high school band and junior high bands, before tee-tum, tee-tum, the drummers (Gail and Joan) would hit the rim and we would march off, instruments tucked under our arms until our leader gave us the signal to start play.  Off course, we had Sousa marches (Linda would trill on the picolo), and Battle Hymn of the Republic and the Marine's Hymn.  If we were lucky, we'd get to cue up a short version of "When the Saints Came Marchin' In", but since our town was pretty "white-bread and American cheese", we didn't veer into this song very often.  We'd end up at the cemetary and our trumpeter would play taps to end the morning on a somber, reflective note.

Then, off came those nasty, sweaty uniforms as fast as we could strip back at school, on with seer- sucker shorts, tops and tennies and then--probably to meet up with our families for a picnic at Wing Park.  Some holidays, my family did a picnic at my grandparent's farm if my out of town cousins were coming from Indiana, or maybe just gather in our backyard for burgers, hot dogs, and watermelon.  If the season were ripe for it, my mom or grandmother might bake a rhubarb pie and vanilla ice cream on top would cool off our tongues at the end of a meal.

So that's a flavor of my memory bank on Memorial Day, what is yours?

just because

Just because it's Sunday and I have made a promise to myself to write,
Just because it's beginning (early) to feel like summer and so staying inside until the sun sets makes sense, but I am getting anxious and ready to bolt for the outside,
Just because there will be a partial solar eclipse in less than two hours but I don't have the right kind of glasses to wear to watch it,
Just because I love good stories and I have been watching "...Deathly Hollows Part 1" for the fifth time before "Game of Thrones" which starts in five minutes (unless I postpone it until later since HBO runs it three times tonight)--
my posting tonight is brief.

take me out to the ballgame

As far back as I can remember, I have loved baseball.  Playing catch with my dad in the backyard in Elgin, Illinois is one of those few memories I have of us actually having fun together.  At least once during the summer, he would take my sister and I into Comisky Park to watch the White Sox and we'd come home exhausted, sunburned and full of hot dogs and peanuts.  Before every sport was televised, baseball games would be on the radio and I recall my dad stretched out on the picnic table, listening to a game on his transistor radion, after an early morning chore such as cutting the grass or painting the trim on the house and/or garage.

As an adult, even though every sport under the sun is on some cable or regular t.v. channel, baseball remains my favorite.  In an afternoon or evening, watching a game relaxes as much as (I imagine) Valium could.  A few years ago, my hubby and I started to go to a few summer league games but I admit that the Bank One-Chase Field Stadium in Phoenix for the Diamondbacks sets a pretty high bar for the ultimate baseball experience.  So, for my Mother's Day weekend, more than flowers (though my hubby bought me a sweet peach-tinted carnation bouquet and, with our son, we enjoyed a Sunday evening dinner at Pastiche), what I wanted was to be at a game in Phoenix. 

A couple of our friends joined us and even though the Giants beat the DBacks, we had fun.  We watched, on a high-definition screen, a young man propose to his girlfriend ("April, will you marry me?"); she covered her face in joy and, as he got down on his knee (nice touch), she nodded, "yes."  There were the standard "games" of Mustard, Relish and Ketchup racing on the sidelines with a victory of free cookies from Subway for everyone (31,000 plus) at the game; and another "victory" for a Dad who could blow 10 paper cups off a table, using the air from a balloon he had to keep reinflating.  For that he won the admiration of his six year-old son standing next to him who never doubted his dad "can do it" and Diamondback Bucks to apply to his next ticket.

As the sun began to go down, the stadium dome opened up and few birds, captured the night before when the dome was open, then shut, flew up into the sunset.  In front of us were a cluster of seven year old Brownies from Gilbert, Az., who devoured pizzas and ice cream folded into waffle cones.  On a sugar high, even though in the 9th inning, Dbacks were down 5-2, they were jumping up and down with their homemade posters and shouting cheers they learned from their morning softball game.  Sprinting up and down the steep stairs (we were in the "cheap" seats of Section 319), their badge-ladened vests flapping in the breeze, they couldn't stop giggling and I could easily imagine the quick sleeps they would fall into on the way back to Gilbert, after the game.

We took the light rail, Central to Roosevelt stops, and it was a mere five minutes to be back at a weekend apartment.  So, I am ready to go out to the ballgame again and be guaranteed 3-4 hours of entertainment on and off the field.