Whatever happened to the past participle? I rarely hear it used properly anymore. I thought it was just a Connecticut “thing” or that it belonged to the generation who began their sentences with “me” or “him” or “her”. That is, until I heard a prominent news reader make the gaffe when he exclaimed that Obama “shouldn’ta ran” for a second term. I whirled around in disbelief, then back spaced in my brain and inserted “shouldn’t have run” before I could attend to what he was actually saying. Before I go on, I confess that this is an affliction of my own. Grammar that is obviously wrong distracts me enough that I miss what is being said. I can’t seem to get back on track until I have made it right. My mother always corrected my grammar during my most passionate storytelling ,often leaving me to wonder if she was even listening to the content of my orations. In keeping with tradition, I have done this to my own kids to ensure it becomes part of their genetic heritage. (I have learned the hard way that correcting another’s grammar is seldom appreciated and only works on family members.) But, I digress.

I hear it every day: shoulda knew, coulda wrote, musta went, I’ve drank, etc. etc. It hurts my ears. It influences my impression of the abuser.

I predict that the English language will become one of the easiest languages to learn instead of the most difficult. In time, Twitter and other abbreviated texts will leave future generations unaware of the beauty of a well chosen word.

My fave……..

I recently joined an online dating service after the demise of a 27 year marriage. Brave? Perhaps. Bold? Perhaps. Risky….Perhaps. But it does show that I am a modern woman who is willing to reach outside of my comfort zone in order to bring someone new and different into my life. Before I went a packin‘ I opened my luggage and did my best to clean it out. Removing old flight tags of past vacations, I paused and allowed myself to travel down memory lane and revisit those adventures. Broken zippers, dents and lost keys reminded me that those trips were not always easy but nonetheless they found their way out of the lost luggage department and were not forgotten. But most of the baggage just needed some TLC.

While scanning the profiles of many “eligibles” on the site, I was amused by how many were looking for a mate without baggage. Are you kidding me? To me that translates to “I am looking for an empty package that I can wheel around behind me.” I’m sure there were a few of those to be had but what would they have shared when they reached their destination?

I am happy to say that I come with plenty of baggage. Layers and layers of memories and experiences that I would never deny in order to seem uncomplicated to the next potential suitor. I can only hope that my future travels will carry with them baggage that is neatly packed and somewhat organized. I will bring along an extra empty bag or two so I can allow room for new experiences I will acquire along the way. My most important bag will contain the hundreds of pairs of shoes I have walked in as I look forward to wiggling my toes in the sand.

I woke up with a start this morning. My absolute truth always comes to me in the wee hours of the morning when I am somewhere between sleep and consciousness. But when there is something I am supposed to remember, its as though a voice in my head awakens me and tells me what I need to know. This morning I realized it was May 1st. Now to some it means nothing but to me it means so much. Thank you, little voice.

When my boys were young enough that I used to walk them up the hill to catch the school bus one morning stands out in my mind. It was probably fifteen years ago or so and it was May 1st. I entertained them with stories from my childhood in Iowa when we would celebrate May Day by giving May baskets to our friends. It was a tradition to deliver the little Dixie Cups filled with candy corn, popcorn, mints and maybe a flower or two to the doorstep of a friend then ring the doorbell and take off running before you were discovered. They loved hearing about the candy and flowers but were quickly on to other matters as they approached their friends.

That day I decided I would surprise them with May baskets of their own. I constructed them similarly to the ones I used to make but had to add a Snickers or two. I planned that I would wait until they were home from school and sneak out the back door, deliver the goodies and ring the doorbell. Time got away from me and I was preoccupied doing something else when the doorbell rang. Wondering who might be visiting, I opened the front door and there on the stoop were freshly picked flowers. I could hear some giggles from behind the tree. They had really listened to my story! And they were so happy to be able to surprise me. I waited until backpacks were emptied and things settled down, I quietly sneaked out and put their baskets in front of the door and rang the doorbell. Laughter ensued. That was the first of many May Day celebrations to follow, just between a mom and her kids.

I managed to sneak delivery of May baskets to my son in college via his girlfriend. He is now a senior and this year May 1st came before I was ready. But thanks to that little voice in my head and modern day technology, I text-messaged a virtual basket full of love and hugs and kisses……….just a different way, this May Day.

Whenever I see candy hearts with messages, it reminds me of a time when love was easy. I actually get butterflies remembering how it felt in the third grade when the cute guy in the desk in front of me surreptitiously placed one on my desk as I returned from recess. What would the message be? “Be Mine” was good enough back then! Does that mean we are going together now, I thought? It was so easy to “hook up” back then. I never understood the “Be True” message at such a young age. What did truth have to do with love anyway? I was to learn that meaning later.

It is good to close your eyes and go back to innocent times, just to relive those moments of uncomplicated love, hoping to stay connected to the optimism and mystery of it all. Happy Valentine’s Day!

I committed “purgery” again today. The last time I wrote about this crime of the closet was May 1st. I am early this year because my house is under contract and I have no choice. I will be moving and moving on and so I decided to give myself a pity, I mean purgery party. This time I tackled my closets with a different attitude. It wasn’t about a season change or a wardrobe change, it was about a life change. I asked myself what I wanted to take with me into the next stage of my life. What attachments did I have to any of these things that I have stored away and have survived previous purges? What purpose did they fill and will they fit into my next closet(s) which undoubtedly will be much smaller. I tossed them into different categories too: charity, consignment, for a friend who likes my hand-me-downs, toss and save. I had to go around about three or four times through all of the closets that I have occupied. Each time I looked again at an item that I had passed the first time and hesitated one more time. Did I love this when I bought it? Where was I? Where did I wear it? Was his hand on my thigh the last time I wore those pants? Was it a compulsive purchase? A band-aid? A gift? Did he caress my shoulder in that strapless dress? Did it make me feel better owning it, or acquiring it? Did I hang on to it just because I was used to wearing it, even if it didn’t flatter me? These were not easy questions as I often shopped to fill a void. Now that I recognize the void, can I just sit with it for awhile? The gravity and the pull of those older memories items was palpable.

I managed to fill about a dozen bags this time and even included boxes of shoes. It didn’t hurt. It felt liberating. Like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It is a process, this saying “good-bye ” to a way of life. The heaviness of the memories associated with some of the items was lifted and I feel a new space where I can breathe more deeply and open myself to the intangible. I did not toss out old friends and memories, I just made room for those that I have.

What is it about men….and boots?? I have been amused by the amount of male attention that comes my way when I am wearing a pair of boots. Okay so I don’t wear Uggs because they are not my style but give me a break, I don’t wear over- the-knee, thigh-high, 4-inch platform boots either. I have a normal collection of boots ranging from booties, to mid-calf, to knee-highs and with heels that vary from wedges, to chunky, to stilettos; the usual range for any respectable shoe horse. Some are fur trimmed, some lace up, and some zip. I default to boots from autumn on because I don’t have to worry about the right height heel for the length of my pants and no one cares if I have had a recent pedicure, or if my socks even match.

It is very humorous though, when a man looks at me then looks at my feet unless I am in the shoe department of a store. I am only five feet tall so it is not like I am “leggy” or anything. I have had them call out “nice boots” when I simply stepped out of my car to pump gas. I even had a man follow me down a couple of aisles at the grocery store before he was able to swallow his saliva so he could comment on my “great boots”. It happened last week at the bank and the whole line of tellers came out one by one to view my boots. They agreed that they were “nice” but then asked where I got them. They were women of course. We all got a good laugh over of the man who left as though he had just had a salacious view of a dirty magazine. Then we all traded similar stories. I am convinced that when a woman wears these :

A man sees these:

Last night’s SAG Awards produced some note-worthy red carpet looks. Among my favorites was Michelle Williams in her red Valentino. She epitomized proportion from her gamine hair cut to the length of her dress. Zoe Saldana almost had me. The style of the dress was fresh, but would have been better in a different color and perhaps not sheer on top. It looked like she was wearing a tank top under it at a glance. Then there was Angelina. I actually loved her dress and she is no doubt a beautiful woman. There was something about it though that made her look skeletal. Just sayin….

I took a couple of months off because simply put, life got in the way. I had originally planned to post every day for a year. Well, I was on a roll for about 10 months so I forgive myself for falling short of my goal. I will now readjust my expectations to a more realistic level and will be happy if I post a couple of times per week.

What better time to reappear than right after the Golden Globes. I was impressed overall by the gowns. So many varieties, colors and styles but not too many made me ask the question, “What was she thinking??” I have decided to feature the Atelier Versace worn by Angelina Jolie. It was old Hollywood glamour with a modern twist. I thought her lipstick and bag were perfectly matched and I was so pleased that she didn’t wear a red shoe! I was flipping through the channels this morning and happened to catch Joan Rivers on GMA and she was commenting on Jolie’s look. I hate to repeat what she said, referring to a partially used tampon, but they quickly cut the interview as Lara Spencer was practically speechless. I then asked myself, “What was she thinking??” Its hard to believe that Joan’s own lack of taste would make her an expert on anything “ladylike”. автоновости

Here are some other dresses that I loved:

My last post about wide leg jeans sparked a curiosity in me. I wondered if I could find my 13 button wool Navy pants that I bought about 10 or 15 years ago from an Army/Navy supply store. Then, if so, would they still fit and would I still love them? Well mine were brand new, not used. I was able to order them in a size 25 if I remember correctly. They would have fit a very small man. Well, I did find them and I had stored them hanging inside out just like I was told to do years ago. I tried them on and they fit like a glove. Lucky for me that the last time I wore them, I must have worn platforms with them because they were nice and long and looked great with my platform, chunky heeled booties.

It’s times like this that I am glad that through all of my closet purging over the years, I have known what to hang on to. I do however remember a little annoyance when wearing them. One must plan a trip to the ladies room well in advance of the urge to go!