The Lady Of The List

/ Ally Bean / 20 Comments

We’re expecting about 30 people at our holiday party on Friday.  I like that number because that means there will be enough guests for everyone to know someone else here– & to meet someone new as well.  But it does mean that there is a lot of planning going on around here.  To wit, I’ve started living a list-centric life.

At first I was scribbling little lists every which way on scraps of paper, but I kept misplacing the scraps of paper.  No surprise.  I tend to be a bit scattered to begin with.

But being smarter than the average bean bear, I decided to designate one of our clipboards as my own.  Then I purloined a pad of legal paper from Zen-Den, Esq.  Putting these two items together I created The Official Party Planning List.  ‘Tis a wonderful document– that I suspect only makes sense to me.

I’ve also decided that post-it notes are my new BFF.  I write what food I want to be in a certain serving bowl/plate/platter and then put the post-it in/on/under the item so that when my helper elves arrive pre-party they’ll know what to put where.  I feel very managerial.  

And on that upbeat note, I’m off to the Kroger to buy a heaping cartload of ingredients to make yumminess.  Which will go into/onto the aforementioned serving bowls/plates/platters.  Which have already been given assigned spots on the tables & counters.  Which is where the people will stand during the party while eating & drinking & talking with each other.

Which will make for a good party.  *yeah* 

Realizing My Vision Without Flinging A Cow

/ Ally Bean / 14 Comments

I loved Northern Exposure when it was on TV.  One episode in particular, Burning Down The House, made a big impression on me.  I still think about it.

In it, Chris decides to “create a pure moment” by: 1) building a trebuchet, & 2) choosing the perfect cow to fling from it.

But his plan stalls when he realizes that: 1) there is “a certain wrongness” to the cow he has picked out, & 2) he cannot, in good conscience, fling a cow because it has been done before.  Which would make his cow flinging merely repetitive.  And not the perfect artistic experience that he longs for.

• • •

At first Chris is bummed that he won’t be able to create his pure moment but comes to realize that:  “I had to let go of that cow so I could see all the other possibilities.”

I still reflect on the idea of a certain wrongness to things.  And on how you often have to let go of any preconceived ideas in order for a new, better idea to manifest.

All this comes to mind as I write this last NaBloPoMo post.  I had a different idea of how this challenge was going to play out, so when I sensed a certain “wrongness” to it I almost gave up.  However, I hung around posting something every day– letting go of “that cow so I could see all the other possibilities.”

And as a result, I managed to complete NaBloPoMo.  And make a decision or two about how I’ll pursue my dreams in the future.

So with that last NaBloPoMo thought, I’ll leave you, my gentle readers, to watch what might be the best– the most absurd– the most unexpected three minutes in all of Northern Exposure.  And that’s saying something.

Enjoy!

• • •

“The thing I learned folks, this is absolutely key:

It’s not the thing you fling. It’s the fling itself.

Let’s fling something, Cicely!”

~ Chris, Northern Exposure

NaBloPoMo: 10 Things About It For Which I’m Grateful + 3 Other Points

/ Ally Bean / 18 Comments
  • It reminded me of why I don’t do a daily blog anymore. Too. Much. Sitting. Still.
  • It allowed me to meet some new-to-me bloggers who were doing this challenge, too.
  • It made me realize how small my world was before the internet– back when geography and genetics were my only links to people.
  • It encouraged some of my lurkers to reveal themselves with a like or a comment.
  • It got me laughing at myself & others as we struggled to do this challenge.
  • It confirmed that posting on Sunday is never worth it for me.  I hate doing it & my readers don’t do Sunday blogging.
  • It gave me the opportunity to write some new types of posts.  For better or for worse.
  • It showed me that despite my disinclination to use YouTube videos in my posts, doing so was well-received.
  • It provided me with a space to share some of my photos that I’d have never posted otherwise.
  • It forced me to re-evaluate whether blogging is worth the bother.  My conclusion?  It is… when done no more than three days per week.

# # # 

1. I have to wonder if November is the best time of year for NaBloPoMo.  I understand the history of this challenge so I get why it’s in November.  But honestly, November is filled with lots of other things to do, often involving travel, that make it extra difficult to finish NaBloPoMo.

Instead, I’d like to nominate February as the official NaBloPoMo month.  It’s a short month– with a good heart— typically filled with fewer distractions than November.

2.  I found this year’s NaBloPoMo blogroll to be frustrating.  As I have done in past years, I intended to use it to find new bloggers.  However, when I clicked on many of the links, I discovered the blogger had done nothing– or only posted a couple of days.

I realize that NaBloPoMo uses the honor system, but couldn’t someone at Blogher go through the blogroll at least once and weed out the faux participants?  I, for one, would appreciate it.

3.  I saw quite a few bloggers just do this challenge without signing up.  I joined NaBloPoMo officially because I had hoped that by signing up on Blogher I’d get encouragement from & interaction with lots of other bloggers within that forum.  But that didn’t happen [see points 1 & 2 above] which left me feeling somewhat alone while doing NaBloPoMo.

If I ever do this challenge again, I’m going to embrace my natural inclination to not conform just because I’m supposed to and follow the lead of those who refuse to belong– where ironically this year I found bloggers who were the most supportive of my efforts.

I Have Seen My Future & I Like Who I Am

/ Ally Bean / 14 Comments

I was getting out of my car in the parking lot in front of a strip center yesterday, when I noticed an older woman getting out of her car.  The woman was probably 75-80 years old.  She was slender, not emaciated, and was moving with a slow ease.

I was immediately taken with her.  She was, I do hope, what I look like when I am her age.  My future doppelgänger of sorts.

Here’s what I saw:

•  white wavy hair, sans frizz, cut short & styled in a relaxed flattering way – not glued into place

•  rectangular medium-brownish-gray framed glasses – that fit her face size

•  a bright red parka that would make a stop sign blush at its own dull inadequacy

•  a jazzy-patterned multi-colored silk scarf around her neck – peeking out from within her parka

•  medium tan corduroy boot-cut pants – hemmed just right

•  dark tan flat leather shoes – rather nondescript, but in the perfect shade to blend with the pants

To say that I was smitten is an understatement.  Part of this was because it was refreshing for me to see a little old lady who embraced color and wore styles from this decade.  She wasn’t a Q-tip, which is the way so many of the older woman around here dress.  Not flattering.

But what really intrigued me about this woman was that she was driving a VW Beetle Convertible— bright red on the bottom, black on the top.  A bold car, no?

And one that, combined with her ensemble, made me love her upon first sight as I became hopeful for my future as an old lady.  I’m gonna look damned good, aren’t I?