2014 will be the year of the Blog.

OK, I kind of suck at blogging. Truth is, I know I only do this for myself. No one's reading, and that's OK. But I like doing it. So, probably the only "resolution" I'm making is to keep blogging. Who knows ... maybe 100 years from now someone will stumble on it and think I was an interesting person!

So, 2013 in review.  I can't complain. The hubster and I both worked hard this past year, but we're both in good places in our jobs. Probably the best thing that happened was that my son finally ended his marriage, doomed from the beginning. He's single-parenting his 2 young boys, and even though he shared physical custody with the ex, he has primary custody. We've helped out A. LOT. in may ways - physically, emotionally and financially. But he's doing OK. Doing well, in fact. So that's good. And the ex wife was extremely difficult for all of us. She is bi-polar, and i think probably has borderline personality disorder as well, and dear god it was like walking on egg shells every time we were together. Honestly, I feel 100% less stressed with her out of the picture.

I did a lot of mom-stuff this past year. We went to Florida in February, Charleston in May, and Myrtle Beach in September. I do it for her, not me. It's been tough seeing her decline physically - she doesn't get around well, and she's pretty depressed. So I try to get her out, and when she can't do much, she gets depressed again. Vicious circle. But I want to do what I can.

If I have anything to complain about for 2013, it's that I felt disconnected from my friends. Not because anything happened, but because of various situations.  We're all working a lot -- I guess it's the season of life when we've hit our strides in our careers -- and we're all dealing with various family issues that come with these mid-50's.  Adult children who aren't quite grown, parents who need to be cared for, and marriages that are showing the strain of lack of attention. It's not an easy age to be.

I don't think I wrote about this, but I lost my first close friend in 2012. She had lung cancer. She was about 15 years older than the rest of our "gang", but she was like our much-wiser and oh-so-much-worldlier older sister. I'm still troubled by the reality of that loss, and the insistent reminder of my own mortality.

So, 2014. Lots of change coming. A merger at work becomes effective tomorrow. It's all good, but it's also going to be a tremendous amount of change. In fact, I think it's going to be the "Year of change".  I hope I'm ready.

These are a few of my favorite things .....

Hello from Hell.  Also known as, summertime in Columbia, SC.  First of all, I must stress: this is not a beauty blog. (Are you stunned by that revelation?)  This is not a fashion blog.  (Again; stunned?) But, these are some things I really love for looking somewhat pulled together and feeling somewhat comfy during these sweltering days of summer.

I hate being hot.  And, whenever someone tells me I look hot, I know they do not mean it in the "hey baby, you look hot" kind of way .... they mean I'm dripping sweat and red-faced and probably slightly crazed looking.  It ain't my best look.  So, here are some things I've discovered that help me cope a little bit.  These aren't miracle workers; I'm still not going to get any complimentary "you look hot" comments, but hey, I feel a little less frazzled thanks to some of these discoveries.

First, let's talk makeup.  I have a new favorite thing that I use every day on my face: it's Jouer Matte Tinted Moisturizer.  It has sunscreen, plus some magic fairy dust that absorbs oil and mattifies my skin.   Coverage is really light but good! It feels like I got nothing on my face, only, I DO!!  I really like it and you will too.  I get it from Birchbox.com and it costs $38.00.  Pricey, yeah, but the tube I'm using; I've had since February and it's still got tons of product in it.  I've been using it EVERY DAY since it got hot.  I use a makeup brush to apply -- it seems to go on nicer and I don't think I use as much of it.

The other thing in the face-department that I've been loving this summer is high-def translucent mineral face powder. OK Confession time:  I splurged on a jar of this stuff by Youngblood; it was $38 (Birchbox, again, I'm hooked).  However, I also bought a jar of very similar stuff by E.L.F. (Target, maybe $4.00?) and it's JUST AS GOOD!  It sort of "sets" your makeup and keeps the shine at bay.  It goes on white, so a little dab will do ya.  But unless you cake it on, it's invisible.  

These are some old faves that are great for summer:  cheek tint by Tarte (I have no idea where I got it).  I apply with a wet sponge and it just leaves a little hint of color, no powder to rub off or streak.  And my new favorite mascara -- because all mascaras I've ever used would melt and leave me with raccoon eyes in the summer, and this one doesn't:  Benefits They're Real.  About $23 and yes, it is worth it.  I swear I will never use drugstore mascara again.   When you get to be 53.80 years old, you have to use the good stuff.  

OK my other favorite summer thing is an unmentionable of sorts.  It's underwear.  If you are a guy I would hope that by now you've quit reading this because I'm sure you don't want to read about my underwear.  

I like to wear dresses in the summer because they're cooler.  Well, I could use a little shapewear, only, THAT SHIT IS UNCOMFORTABLE.  I mean, if shapewear could suddenly make me appear 70 pounds thinner and 20 years younger, maybe I'd suffer through it.  But, I'm still fat and old when I wear it, so nope.  But last summer I found these things made by Jockey (on line purchase) called Skimmies Slipshorts.  They are $20 each and I am madly in love with them.  (in an entirely appropriate way)  They're like shapewear, only not.   Just the slightest bit snug -- enough to smooth lumps and bumps and kill panty lines.  They fit like an awesomely silky comfy and cool pair of bike shorts.  And they are awesome.   And, for those of you who, like me, have a little extra fluff, they come in plus sizes.

There are lots of good things about summer -- like, my birthday -- and I can't think of much else ---- but I find it so hard to be comfortable and feel "put together" in this weather.  So consider this my one and quite likely only contribution to your beautification and staying cool for the rest of this summer!

Dad.

It’s my fourth Father’s Day since Dad passed away in January 2010. People say it gets easier and it really does, but it leaves a dad-sized hole in your life that never goes away. The edges of the hole heal up a bit so that it doesn’t ache all the time, but the hole’s still there. I reckon it always will be.

My dad loved me and was proud of me, although he wasn’t the kind to say it out loud too often. His wasn’t a generation that lent itself to a great deal of touchy-feely mumbo jumbo.  But he loved his kids, and truly, would have done anything for us.  He wasn’t one for long phone calls, either, but when life was going badly, he was who I called.  He just knew how to make me feel like it was going to be OK. 

Oh, but he was a worrier!  He worried so much about the darnedest things.    If I was out sick from work, he worried that I might get fired. (Dad was of the opinion that not many things were an excuse for missing work)  I used to joke that if he got a call informing him I’d been in a car accident, his first question would be to ask if I was OK, but his second question would be “did she go to work?”  He also was deeply concerned and disappointed that I was not, and vowed never to be, a Southern Baptist or a Republican.  His steadfast convictions in matters of religion and politics were such that we couldn’t even have a conversation about either. It wasn’t that he got angry. It was more like he was just …. SAD that I was so misguided. 

My earliest memory of my dad is of the two of us playing “Three Little Pigs”.  Yes, you read that correctly. We didn’t read it, we played it.  I was all 3 pigs, and he was the Big Bad Wolf.  We acted out the book, over and over, he huffed and puffed and blew the house down and I guess I just did pig stuff. 

Dad was not the disciplinarian type. Basically, he had three trigger items as it related to us kids:  Don’t get between him and the TV; for God’s sake, don’t leave a room and leave the light on, and do not, under any circumstances, make any noise after he has gone to bed.   But all he ever did was yell a little bit.   The only time I ever remember getting a spanking by him, (these were the days when “spankings” usually meant belts, or switches!) he picked up a cloth belt.  I started laughing. He tried his hardest to be stern as he flapped that wimpy belt against my leg.  I laughed again.  He made a serious frowny-face and told me it wasn’t one bit funny, or at least I think that’s what he was saying because he burst out laughing before he could get it all out.  So then he put his hand over my mouth and said “if your mother hears us laughing we’re BOTH in trouble – at least pretend to cry!”

My dad was a good guy.  I could write for days about all of the good qualities he had. But some of the funniest things I remember about dad are when he was being, well, a grumpy old fart. He wouldn’t have really appreciated the fact that I find those memories funny, but the fact is when Dad was being a jerk, it was like a tiny little puppy trying to growl and act like a bad ass – all for show, and more amusing than anything else.

Dad would get so blustery sometimes and it usually left everyone perplexed and amused. One Christmas, we had a very large family gathering – siblings, spouses, grandkids – more mouths than my mom had silverware for – I think there were 19-20 of us.  So, she had mixed in a few salad forks at some places – we had the dining room table, the kitchen table, and a couple card tables set up.   As we all got our plates fixed and settled in, and after Dad said his tradition mumbled Grace, he sat down, stared at his fork (he’d drawn one of the salad forks) and said, “I believe I just won’t eat if I have to eat with a little fork”. And then, he stood up and calmly walked away to the den, where he sat down huffily to read the paper.   We all sort of just looked at each other a moment before someone started chucking, and someone swapped out their “big” fork for the “little” fork, and someone cajoled him into coming back to the table.

One of my favorite holiday memories was from maybe the mid 1990’s.  Both of my brothers were living in Florida at the time, so they were staying at the parents’ house for the holidays. For some reason my sister was also staying at their house as well. My husband, my son and I joined the family about 11 that morning.  Apparently all 3 siblings had gone out partying the night before, and they were all still asleep when we arrived, much to my dad’s consternation.  (He wasn’t keen on drinking OR sleeping in!)  When everyone finally woke up and came downstairs, well, they looked like people who’d been out drinking until all hours.  I looked around at them all – bleary-eyed, dressed in clothes they’d hastily picked up from the floor, with slept-in hair; and then at my own family – we weren’t dressed up but we’d showered and at least put on clean clothes.  It suddenly struck me as hilarious that I felt wildly overdressed in my jeans and clean shirt, and when dad asked what I was laughing about, I pointed out the disparity.  Without looking up from the newspaper, he said, not amusedly, “how do you think I feel when I look at this motley group and realize this is my legacy to the world?” 

I guess this has gotten way too long for a blog post, so I’ll end this here. But every day, I miss that man. And despite his musings that Christmas morning, I think he left his four kids a legacy that will make us all better people for having him as our dad.