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Who needs RDJ when you’re already married to the sexiest man alive.

Jan29

I am dating the sexiest man alive and I love it!

Move over Robert Downey Junior. Sherlock Holmes and Iron Man, might look cool on the big screen but they pale in real life, they are after all, fictitious characters. While I joke a lot about my crush on Robert Downey Junior, I also know my hubs has the same kinda crush on Meg Ryan. I’ve known this since we met. No worries. We’re cool with that and comfortable enough with each other (and ourselves) to own it out loud if we think someone is hot.

But seriously — I actually think my husband is hotter than Robert Downey Jr.

For starters he’s a lead guitar player in a band – with a respectable day job. So he’s an artist who eats.

He’s a brilliant business man.

He’s a poet/songwriter.

He can cook.

He’s a great dad.

He gives back to the community without needing his name in the paper. — LOVE that.

He can tear up the water on a tube.

He’s an avid fisherman and a good one.

An excellent soccer coach back when he coached.

He likes U2 almost as much as I do. Almost.

He’s got a wicked sense of humor and is a great source of inspiration for a lot of my stories and jokes.

And when I tried to go blonde to surprise him last winter, he tried really hard not to laugh when the results weren’t quite what I expected. (Think atomic carrot with flames. yes it was that bad.)

We are polar opposites as well. He’s an extrovert and I’m an introvert. He likes classic rock, I like country. I love to travel, he’d rather just fish.  He’s a White Sox Fan and I love the Cubs. He likes action flicks, I like romantic comedies. And yet it works.

This is the man I get to date again after 21 years of raising kids. I’m kinda diggin that if you really want to know.

If you are married, I highly suggest dating your mate.

It’s a lot of fun.

 

 

 

And so this is New Year

Jan4

I read once that the trick to getting over the blank page hump is to write three or four sentances.

I’m not sure if it works.

But I thought I’d give it a try.

And lo, I’m writing.

Happy New Year you guys. Did you know that Mayans did not believe the world was going to end in 2012? They calendared Eras not years. To them 2012 signifies the ending of an era of darkness and begins the era of light. I rather like that thought, don’t you?

This is my very first alone time moment in three weeks that does not involve napping to shut the world out or showers. I have a puppy that won’t even let me pee alone without busting down the door to save me but she will let me shower alone, thankfully. Right now my oldest is sleeping, hubs is working and youngest is at school for another 30 minutes. I better make the most of it. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family beyond measure. I’m also an introvert. (or INFJ according to Meyers Briggs) Alone time is crucial to my ET. (Emotional Temperature.)

I’m sitting at my new desk, looking around my office and I’m filled with joy and fear all at once. So many possibilities lay ahead. It’s finally put together – mostly. We painted the walls, hung the pictures and brought up the furnature.  So far I love it. Just don’t ask what the rest of my house looks like.

I have learned that self-effacing humor does not always translate well in the literary sense. Despite my initial neurotic rantings about how I came to choose my word for the year (breathe) I actually like the possibilities that it opens. I’m only day four into the new year and I’ve already found great moments to practice my breathing.

When my togetherness threshold meets one more day of vacation than I anticipate, I need to breathe.–  Everyone, and I do mean EVERY one in my house has a different idea on how to spend the day. — I want to clean the house, put away Christmas, do laundry and put away all our stuff from the lake that is still laying throughout the main level of our home. My boys want to film their newest epic movie with friends at our house (which is a mess). And my husband wants to complete the transfer of rooms, which involves the moving of furniture and the placing of more boxes throughout the hall and house. I never did get my house clean. I did however at least get Christmas put away.

When I finally step on the scale (first time since Thanksgiving) I discover that I am UP 13 pounds. – I need to breathe.

When I tell my husband I’m cancelling my Friday Drs appt because I’m up 13 pounds oh and yeah, I accidentally followed the guy’s racing team on twitter over break and well can I just find a new doctor? (I’m neurotic like that) – He practices breathing. No go on cancelling, he made me promise I’d keep the appointment.

When I find out my new dental bridge costs $1006 out-of-pocket because of our deductible – I need to breathe.

And finally when I have my short me time, I practice breathing in the possibilities of the year to come. My next choice can determine the outcome of 2012. Taking the time to breathe before I act helps me choose well.

I’ve been reading your posts. Seems everyone is excited about 2012 as I am. Many of you have new words or phrases for the year. That’s exciting. So, what goals do you have to 2012? What steps do you plan on taking in January to get you there? I’d love to hear from you.

 

 

In Search of Wings

Dec14

Horses lend us the wings we lack. Pam Brown, 1928

I woke up with my shoulders in my ears this morning. My to do list is out of hand what with Christmas just around the corner and my oldest due home on Friday. I have too much on my mental plate and need to blow off some steam.

In light of that, I took time out to ride today. I usually ride Prince on Tuesdays. (See photo) This time Janell let me ride Cowboy. Cowboy jacks with me most days, but not today.  He’s not a bad horse, he just doesn’t like beginners. I’ve been riding for almost a year now and even though I cannot hold a steady gallop, I’m no longer a beginner. Something about my seat told him I could be trusted. He did everything I asked.

Horses need to be able to trust their riders as much as riders need to be able to trust their horses. It’s a two-way relationship. There is a life lesson in this I’m sure. Janell is teaching me how to race barrels as well as jump. Once I learn those, it’s on to roping cattle.  I’m becoming a real cowgirl. I’m 46. This is crazy. And oh so much fun.

J-man wants to know how I can “race barrels” if we aren’t really going at a full gallop yet. He’s an are we there yet kind of fellow.

That’s an easy question to answer. We just do it. It’s not about the speed. At least not yet.  It’s about form and it’s about trust. Once that foundation is set, the speed will come. Every hour I spend in the arena, I push myself to go a little bit faster for a little bit longer. I work my abs and my legs by holding them straight. My left leg keeps wanting to curl up underneath me for protection and that throws me off balance, holding it straight is a huge challenge. I work on keeping my eyes up and forward instead of on the ground. I sit as tall as I can and I let the horse go. Every day I ride, I borrow courage from the horse and make it my own.

Cowboy does not give an inch. Every step, every breath, every moment is earned with him. I rather like that.

I prefer to earn my own confidence than have it handed to me.

Cowboy will not let me lope one minute before I’m ready. His resistance is teaching about my own journey in life. So often we are in a hurry to arrive. Cowboy forces me to slow down, breathe deeply, check my seat, stay balanced and enjoy the ride.

In light of that, I’m taking the rest of the year off.

I hope you don’t mind it’s just that I’ve been in such a hurry to make Christmas arrive that I’m missing the journey.

No more twitter. (Ouchies.. I kinda like twitter)

No more Facebook. eh, they’ll live.

and No more Blog. At least not until 2012.

I hope you don’t mind.

I haven’t taken time to harvest the fruit from 2011 or to rest.

I need time to be.

To quote Anne Jackson, the internet will still be here in 2012. Have a blessed Hunakkah or Christmas or whichever you celebrate. I’ll see you in 2012.

Love and Laughter

Deana

The trick to riding

Nov20

20111120-165737.jpg

I love this sign. I see it every time I saddle up to ride. Funny thing is though now that I’m learning how to barrel race and eventually rope, Jo thinks it might be good for me to learn how to fall off a horse safely.

I’ve never really viewed falling as something I do safely. I always thought falling to be the equivalent of being unceremoniously dumped on my butt.

To help me better grasp the concept Jo changed her verbiage. Rather than thinking of it as falling, it’s really an emergency dismount. I don’t want to show you how to fall, I want you to learn how to land on your feet and stay out of harms way.

I fall off my bike a lot but I’ve never fallen off a horse. When faced with dangerous situations, dismounting is sometimes your safest bet. It doesn’t matter if it’s a horse or a bike. A rider should always pay attention to their surroundings.

Knowing when and how to fall, is as important as knowing how to ride.

Heading for Yukon Oklahoma!

Sep15

Me with Michele VanDusen at Yukon Community Theater in 2010

Okay so it’s a little blurry but this photo is from last year’s A Funny Thing comedy night in Yukon Oklahoma. Michele and I were part of a comedy competition last year and have been asked to come back again this year. I am so stoked! Michele placed and while I did not — I’m going for it this year.

I’m new to the comedy circuit and while I felt weird starting stand up in my 40′s I’ve since discovered that I’m by no means the youngest newcomer. I met a gal in her 60′s this week starting comedy and I think that’s awesome.

I got into stand up as a way to overcome stage fright. I’ve been MCing various charity events over the years and struggle when the crowds reach over 50 people. Since doing stand up I can now speak comfortably in crowds much larger than that.

Learning stand up has made me a better speaker, a better writer, and just a lot more fun. Unless I’m trying to take your emotional temperature to assess whether or not I can joke with you, then I’m a neurotic mess. Fortunately those times are few and far between. Stand up has also given me a healthy outlet for my warped sense of humor which is definitely a good thing.

There was a time when telling jokes would terrify me and through practice, patience, time and friends who believe in me, I’ve over come that.

What fears have you faced down in your life? I’d love to hear from you.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. September 15 2011. All rights reserved.

 

 

Returning: It’s Always the Quiet Ones

Sep6

Me in 1995

It’s always the quiet ones. Police tape and blood are scattered everywhere. The press interviews the neighbors they all say the same thing about the person who committed the crime, “They were so nice, and so quiet, I just can’t imagine.”

I was nice you know. Really I was.  Way back when the world was my oyster and everyone was my friend. I was so nice to people  that I bordered on masochistic. It did not matter what I wanted, needed, or cared about it – I was more than willing to lay down and make room for everyone else. It was after all the “nice” thing to do.

I just knew that soon or later  if I laid down for you, the day would come back where you would step aside to make room for my wants and needs. Only life doesn’t work that way. We do not as humans necessarily notice the things (or people) we step over. We are too focused on our end point to see the cracks in the sidewalk. The only things we really notice along the way are the people walking next to us, that and the gum on our shoes.

One would think that wisdom and years would teach me that being the walking one, beside you as an equal, would gather far greater results than being gum.

One would think.

I met a woman at work one day who had more tenacity than a viper and absolutely no shame whatsoever. She had her eyes on her end game. My husband actually. He and I worked on separate floors in the same building, had two boys, and had only been married about five years when she entered the scene. Jezabel (as I lovingly called her) worked on his floor.  He took her far less seriously than I did and the very fact that he told me about her attempts at asking him out or being near him just reinforced that. She was in his mind – harmless.

My mind? Notsomuch.

In a passive attempt to mark my territory, I started using lilac scented fabric softener on his laundry, framed photos of the boys for his desk and sent cute “I love you” gifts for him to display. I even went to glamour shots and had the hottest photograph of my self ever taken, promptly framed it and made him put it on his desk.

None of it worked.

I knew I was in trouble when she crossed in front of my car while I was driving in to work.

Nice me seriously considered flooring it.

It was time to meet face to face in a non homicidal friendly environment, even though arranging that might be problematic. Turns out I didn’t have to, providence has a way of handling things on her own.

Our introduction was rather spectacular actually. We were out with friends from work at a local sports bar when she entered (with man on her arm no less). Did I mention that she was a knock out? Well she was. I spotted her before my husband did and rather than warn him, I chose to sit back and see how this plays out.

The minute she saw us, she left her boy toy in the dust, rushed over, threw her arms around him, gave him a hug and a kiss, sat on the stool to his left (I was on the right)placed her hand on his thigh and proceed to chatter up a storm.

I can imagine little worse than being a man stuck in the middle of what surely is to become a blood bath.

Quickly hoping to take the attention off himself he introduced us — and ducked. Her hands were immediately airborne, reaching to shake mine and in a high pitch squeaky voice, she offers me her name.

Formerly nice me – left her hand hanging in mid-air.

I simply smiled and said “Oh look, it’s Alvin with breasts. How nice.”

The entire table ruptured with laughter.

I didn’t need my car after all.

I guess the neighbors are right, it IS always the quiet ones.

It was the kind of come back I’d dreamed of all my life, so why did I feel so badly?

Did you ever intentionally hurt someone? How did it feel? Was it worth it?

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. September 6, 2011. All rights reserved.

Ooh They Come in Pink!

Sep2

Status on Facebook: So I’m shopping at Bass Pro with my wife and I’m talking to this guy about 7.1:1 vs. 6.4:1 reel ratios, 7 baring vs. 9, magnetic brake vs. Pin braking system…..you know, the usual stuff. Then we hear a voice behind us “Ooh! They come in pink”! My wife is now the proud owner of a Zebco rod/reel combo. Humbling really…..(Jeff O’Hara )

Not only do I have a pink rod and reel, I have pink line, pink bait, and a pink hat. I’m ready to fish. All I need to do now is remember where I put that fishing licence we got last May. Why pink you ask? Easy, 1. It’s my favorite color. 2. I live with three guys (1 husband, 2 sons) Pink is the only color I know they won’t “borrow.”

It’s a Girl!

Aug17

I would like you to meet the newest addition to the O’Hara household. Her name is Cassidy (From the Grateful Dead), and she is about 4 1/2 months old.  We found her in the church parking lot on Sunday Morning, August 14.  I couldn’t just leave her there, she’d get hit.  With all of the storms we’ve had we thought perhaps she was just lost. We’ve called the vets, shelters, kennels and put up signs. No one has claimed her or even called. Two other puppies with similar markings were dropped off this weekend at the animal shelter as strays. Someone apparently dropped them off near Mohawk park some time last week.  That happens a lot.

I’ve taken her to the vets to be de-wormed (she has hook worm) and will get her the full puppy shots starting next week. We have a crate for her which she sleeps in and she is safe to be around our border collie at home.

The vet was able to put her at 4 1/2 months of age because of her teeth. She has a few scars but nothing seriously wrong with her. She’s small in stature, weighing in at 21 pounds and is only about 18 inches tall. She has webbed feet which suggests a retriever mix of some kind, but she won’t be that big.  Her coloring also suggests border collie. She has a voracious appetite and I have to feed her small meals or she’ll eat until she throws up — another sign that she’s been on the street for a few days. She’s starving.

She’s a cutie and can already lap Rocky (my border collie) when running around our pool. The vet told us he needed to lose weight and I’m thinking she’s just the answer. Rocky is only five and I’m sure he’ll adjust to having a puppy and begin to play with her more as he builds up his endurance. She is typical female in that she loves to talk (bark) to him and when he doesn’t respond she’ll come over to me and whine at me as if to say, “He won’t play with me!” –

I was not planning on getting another dog so soon after putting Sheba down last June, still, a rescue seems to fit our family right now. Welcome to the family Cassidy.

Oh I forgive you, but I’m still going to make you pay.

Jul31

Not long before she died in 1988, in a moment of surprising candor in television, Marghanita Laski, one of our best-known secular humanists and novelists, said, “What I envy most about you Christians is your forgiveness; I have nobody to forgive me.”

John Stott in The Contemporary Christian.

You’ve blown it and you know it. Rather than deny it, you suck up your pride and apologize. Being forgiven feels wonderful (see Can you Give Me Three Days?), but what happens when they choose not to forgive you? Do you fall apart, jump through impossible hoops, or do you just walk away?

It is impossible to make someone forgive me and I hate that. I like to think that I am basically a nice person and that most people like me. And yet, we all have people in our lives who cannot, for whatever reason, forgive even the slightest of hurts even after we’ve apologized and made ammends. Or perhaps, they say they’ve forgiven , but oh are they gonna make you pay.

While I know that forgiveness is not an entitlement or a right, I do believe that being willing to forgive comes with healthy relationships.

I live in the same fallen world as the rest of you and not all of my relationships are healthy. I have choices as how to respond in light of this. I can either:

1. become a neurotic insecure people-pleaser, crushed by failure in the face of unforgiveness. I know this world well.

OR

2. I can accept who I am in Christ, know that God is in charge of everything, including my dysfunctional relationships and allow His Grace to carry me through.

I spend a lot of time in both camps. Learning how to stay in Camp 2, takes time, practice, patience, and lots of prayer.

Like it or not, there are people in this world who would rather set them selves on fire over my sins (real or imagined) and hope I die from smoke inhalation than forgive me. It doesn’t matter how many flaming hoops I jump through, or how deep the eggshells I walk on are, I can still feel the undercurrent.

I’m not a strong relational swimmer and under currents can pull me under more quickly than you can say…

                               well…..

                                             anything really.

It is difficult to show love in the face of being unforgiven;  anger brews just beneath the surface, snarky remarks and lit arrows flow freely and there are not eggshells big enough to walk on to keep the tinderbox from igniting. Fortunately love is a verb and not a noun. It is not my responsibility to make sure the other person forgives me or receives loving actions well, it is only my responsibility to make amends carry them out.

Maybe you have people like that in your life, or maybe you are that unwilling to forgive person. Either way, unforgiveness is an invisible weight that bares down on the soul and suffocates hope.  Unforgiven might make for a good Clint Eastwood movie, but it doesn’t cut it in real life.

Unforgiving people suffer from all kinds of spiritual maladies such as depression, anger, fear, insecurity, isolation, and  loneliness to name a few.  An unforgiving spirit almost feels entitled to punish those who’ve wounded them in the past by either withholding relationship, or by constantly reminding them of past mistakes. I know because for a long time, I was such a person. Unforgiveness is based in selfishness and pride.

Now I’m not talking about major screw ups here, although I’ve been guilty of those myself and yes, even those can be forgiven. Rather I’m referring to the lifetime of mis-steps, misunderstandings, and oversights that add up and take their toll when someone allows those events to take precedent in their mind.

It isn’t the little things that kill relationships, it’s the unwillingness to let them go.

An unforgiving person will ask me, “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

The unfortunate, yet honest, answer is, “You don’t and truthfully, I probably will. I’m not perfect.”

It really boils down to choices you know.

  • We choose to love.
  • We choose to be in relationship
  • We choose to forgive.

So what do you do when you are in a relationship with someone who chooses not to forgive past hurts? Do you choose to love them anyway or move on? I think it depends on the relationship and it depends on you. –

Three things I like to remember:

1. It is not about me. - It is impossible to live up to the unrealistic expectations of others, and being imperfect people we will inevitably have a bad day and let each other down. Healthy relationships involve telling each other the truth, facing problems head on, confessing our shortcomings and forgiving each other without keeping score.

I have no idea what has happened to the other person to create such a lifetime of hurt. Only Christ can fill that void and heal that hurt.

2. Unforgiven does not equal unforgivable - I have a book I like to read and it states, “As God’s people we stand on our feet; we don’t crawl before anyone.” — I am God’s child and my past is in his hands and no one else’s. Jesus Christ came to die for my sins. I am cleansed by his blood and set free from the past through his sacrifice. When I place my self-worth on a human beings ability – or lack thereof to forgive me, I place them on a higher plane than God.

3. The bells tolls for them not me, it’s okay to drop the rope. - Corrie ten Boom told of not being able to forget a wrong that had been done to her. She had forgiven the person, but she kept rehashing the incident and so couldn’t sleep. Finally Corrie cried out to God for help in putting the problem to rest. “His help came in the form of a kindly Lutheran pastor,” Corrie wrote, “to whom I confessed my failure after two sleepless weeks.” “Up in the church tower,” he said, nodding out the window, “is a bell which is rung by pulling on a rope. But you know what? After the sexton lets go of the rope, the bell keeps on swinging. First ding, then dong. Slower and slower until there’s a final dong and it stops. I believe the same thing is true of forgiveness. When we forgive, we take our hand off the rope. But if we’ve been tugging at our grievances for a long time, we mustn’t be surprised if the old angry thoughts keep coming for a while. They’re just the ding-dongs of the old bell slowing down.” “And so it proved to be. There were a few more midnight reverberations, a couple of dings when the subject came up in my conversations, but the force — which was my willingness in the matter — had gone out of them. They came less and less often and at the last stopped altogether: we can trust God not only above our emotions, but also above our thoughts.” (source: http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/f/forgiveness.htm)

Just because we have someone in our life who insists on pulling that rope and ringing our bell, it doesn’t mean we have to answer it, we can drop the rope. We can choose to detach with love, forgive them, and surrender them to Christ. Only then can we be free.

Being unforgiven by others does not mean I am unforgiven by God, nor does it mean that I can be unforgiving.  Beth Moore has a great teaching on this very subject on Life Today. For more information on Living a Forgiving Life — You can see Beth Moore on Life Today at: http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=JB99CMNU and Part 2 at: http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=JBE0MJNU

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. July 30, 2011. All rights reserved.

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Gammy’s Gardens

Jul27

My mother is an artist and even though she has not picked up a brush since the day her father died, she still creates. Her artwork is evident in her quilts, and especially in her gardens. Gammy (as my boys call her) always seems happiest in her garden, and with results like these, who wouldn’t be?

Moonflower beginning to unfold

This moon flower, only opens for one night and then it's gone. It's beauty is worth the wait.

Birdbaths can be found through out her yard.

She even has chipmunks for entertainment

There are hidden treasures in every nook and cranny of her home, from masks, to feeders, to climbers and more. Living in a state where everything dies from the heat, I’m always envious of her results. I’m gathering all of my photographs of her gardens over the years and creating a book for her on my publisher dot com for Christmas. I think she’ll like it. Don’t you?