Category Archives: The Cove at Rock Creek

I have levels of crazy you haven’t even met yet.

she is crazy

Have you ever seen a Southern Woman throw a wall-eyed hissy with a red rubber tail? Someone is fixin to.

I did the math, I’ve been gone 152 days out of a possible 275 so far this year.That is almost 22 weeks away from my family. 21.7 weeks to be exact. Seven of those days were for fun. I spent my friend’s 50th birthday with them. The rest of those days weren’t even close.

In that time:

  • My mother died.
  • I missed my 25th wedding anniversary and my 50th birthday.
  • The airplane I was on caught on fire and had to make an emergency landing in the middle of a runway.
  • The apartment I was renting had bed bugs – I’m violently allergic to those by the way and the pain inflicted was incredible. I had to go to a small town ER where they were so freaked out that they tested me for everything from HIV to Ebola.  I have scars on my arms and legs people. SCARS!
  • The night gal at the new hotel had pet rats that stayed on her shoulders while she worked – RATS people, think about that for a minute, will you?
  • After dealing with bed bugs and rats, I not so wisely decided I was better off sleeping in my dead mother’s home while I organized her estate.  I do not recommend that. For one thing, that’s just heartbreaking really and for another it’s creepy sleeping there alone, especially if oh I don’t know – her radio suddenly turns on in the middle of the night when you are there.

I left. Locked the doors and flew home.

The house can wait.

Why am I about to unload crazy? I gave a guy $3,000 to clean up my trees while I was gone. He did half the job and won’t come back. Oh he says he will, but he never does — really? While it is true, thatI know better – half up front, half when he’s done,  I was in a crisis and had to be in NY to take care of Mom while she died so I trusted him on good faith. And I came home to learn, NOPE he didn’t do it. Even after my husband hounded him.

My best pecan trees are dead now.

That good faith is gone. Not a good choice for that man.

My Anniversary Gift

I am sorry that I haven’t been around the blogosphere much these last few months. I’ve been living in New York taking care of my mother. She passed on August 19 (The day after my anniversary). To be honest, my emotions are raw and all over the place which is why I haven’t been writing.

I run the gamut of relief, grief, anger and acceptance all in an hour’s time.

I’ll write more once my heart settles down and I can once again assemble clear, intelligent thought. You deserve my best. I’ll get there again. I promise.

My summer hasn’t been all crazy. There have been many good moments. Like this for instance.

Hubs got me a new, custom-made Bishline Banjo for our 25th wedding anniversary. The arm rest says, “Breathe Darlin’ ” (something an old friend used to say to me when my shoulders were in my ears and my anxiety was readily apparent) and the head-stock reads “Hippie Chick” a nickname given to me by the lead guitar player from Korn when I played the Funny Bone this Spring.

I am not making that up you guys. I shared a stage with Thaddeous Challis from Korn last Spring and he dubbed me “The Hippie Chick.” that was so freakin cool that I still want to pinch myself. My son thinks I’m a rock star now and wants an autograph. HA!

of HIM, not me. Just to be clear.

Granted, Hippie Chick doesn’t exactly fit (I’m a little too naive for that name) but I like it and I’ll take it.

This banjo is an open back model and is designed specifically for Claw-hammer style banjo which is something I’m trying to teach myself and is also what Rob is playing in this video.

crc banjo

Check out the video to see what it sounds like. It has a bright, clear, and happy sound and is exceptionally made. I met Rob almost three years ago when my then banjo teacher invited me out to hear “a real banjo player play,” as he put it.

Rob is local to Tulsa and is not only a gifted musician, he’s a well gifted Luthier as well. I’ve wanted a Bishline Custom banjo for almost three years. I’m thrilled to add this beautiful instrument to my collection. The action is low and perfect for my smallish stature. It’ll take some time to readjust the muscle memory. My Recording King had wider frets and a longer neck. I keep missing the chords but I’m getting there.

This is officially my favorite banjo in my collection.

Even more fun, I bought my guitar playing husband a Madera (Also made by Rob). It’s a banjo that looks like a guitar. Rob called us “This really cool dead head couple” — HA! Again with the not quite right nick names, but then again, I DID have him put a wheel of roses and a dancing bear on my hubs Madera, so you know.

Guitar man and I do play together on our front porch as time allows. What takes me months to learn, he picks up by ear. I’m okay with that really. Playing together is pure joy.

Take care my sweet friends.

Live today and love well.

Friday Funny: That’s One Way to keep the toilet clean

toilet seatIt would seem the guys have a problem with where I chose to hang Marilyn. I don’t see what the issue is, toilet seat’s been down for a week.

Yes, I really did do this.

I’m redecorating.

No, I did not think this would be an issue.

Apparently it is.


Music Monday: Feelin Groovy, Simon and Garfunkel

My banjo teacher used to call me “High Strung.” Some how, I don’t think that was a compliment. I’m always in such a hurry to finish up whatever we are working on and get to the next plateau that I don’t enjoy the moment.

I’m the same way with losing weight, mastering cycling, and my career. My eyes are on the mountain tops. The next gig, the next movie, the next song.

8 months with my leg in a boot has changed that.  8 months of sitting on my front porch overlooking the cove brought such incredible peace. No late night gigs, no rushing to finish projects around the house. no exhaustion. I just got to be.. 100% wholly me and no one else for 8 whole months.

I’m not sure I want to get back in the fray. The mania of striving and networking.

I want to build my garden at the Cove, write poetry, play my banjo on my front porch, go to church, take my time cooking fabulous meals, and spend time with friends. Maybe write my book and sling some jokes here and there when I feel like it.

Rebuilding a “suitable” web page that brings “results” doesn’t have the appeal it did a year ago.

Neither does being a star.

Or chairing yet another board at church.

Sounds crazy to me though.

Meeting Howard this weekend reaffirms that change.

Howard is a luthier. It can take him a year to make ONE violin. He has 10 more he wants to make. It took him a year to rebuild ONE clock from Germany. His father purchased a real log cabin for $20, took it down row by row, transported it back to his house and rebuilt it, row by row.

I’m guessing it took longer than a week.

How is it that at 48, I can still be in as big of a hurry to grow up as I was at eight?

Slowing down is good for sure.

Ya Got Trouble – or do you? A glimpse into the wilderness

Unless we know how to be alone on purpose, not in a runaway alone, but an intentional pilgrimage, we’ll never learn how to be with people.

That’s why I wrote yesterday’s post. Not everyone knows how to be alone. I thought I did. I used to look forward to my days at the lake – until they spread out to over 200 of them. That’s when I discovered that I have a limit for alone.

That’s okay. We are created for relationship. We aren’t created to stand alone. One aides the other, but one should never exclude the other.

I admitted something yesterday that is really taboo in my circles. I admitted that I don’t always like myself. Everyone goes through seasons like that, but not everyone admits it really. We’d rather hide behind an all’s well mask.

I’m not much for hiding really.

Unless I want to, and then I’m killer at it.

I’ve shared many things over the years with you guys. We’ve talked about fear, about courage, about death, about being tired. I’ve even shared stories about things I’d just as soon forget, like the *real reason I hate being called “darlin'” (see bottom of post) and about my past experience with depression.

I do want to clarify, I am not using soul-tired and depressed interchangeably. They mean two different things to me.

I’ve been depressed, I know that black night of the soul. It sucks.

Thankfully, I’m not there today. But if I’m not careful, soul-tired can become soul-sick very easily. It’s a slippery slope really.

What I honestly didn’t realize, before heading on this adventure is how tired I really was last fall. I slept the first three weeks I was here and blamed it on the surgery.

That wasn’t the problem.

I had some big emotional items on my plate. Things I don’t share here because it would harm others. But trust me, just because I don’t share them does not mean they aren’t real. They are very real and they weighed on me because I confused myself with Atlas and thought it was my job to carry it all on my shoulders.

I’m kind of egotistical like that.

I had pushed myself beyond my limits and did not do the things I know to do to stay above water.

Now it’s true, life is not without it’s problems and we can’t always escape them. We do however have choices and can take right action to help ourselves.

The first thing we need to do is not be victim of this guy:

They didn’t even know they had trouble until he came along. And the truth is they didn’t have trouble – he just wanted to sell some musical instruments. He had a motive, and an agenda to create a FEAR BASED need. The town bought it, hook line sinker and tackle box.

That happens today – just look at Facebook or Twitter, MSNBC or Fox News — Town Criers everyone proclaiming trouble. Turn it off once in a while. Use discernment.

If you’ll recall, I posted a bit of an emancipation proclamation a few days ago – the whole Best Friend or worst enemy thing. I’ve had to consciously remove myself from manipulative circumstances for my own sanity — that’s a sign of health. I’m no longer willing to blindly follow fear based leaders.

Charisma is a turn off to me today.

As are threats of abandonment — do this or I’ll leave. Okay. Leave.

Cold? Maybe, but not really. It’s the most loving thing I can do for both of us today. Took me years to learn that.

I have HUGE attachment/abandonment issues. I’ve spent the past 200 or so days facing them. You know what I learned? They aren’t that hairy after all.

Other things I didn’t do during my Let’s go out and conquer 2013:

1. I didn’t exercise. Oh sure, I planned for it, wrote about it, bought things and signed up for clubs, but I never pulled the trigger. Exercise is important. It released endorphins and gives oxygen to the brain.  Yes, I got injured, but I spent so much time staring at closed doors (Cycling) that I didn’t look for new doors.

2. I didn’t face my problems head on. That’s not like me. I’m a deal with it now and get over it kind of woman. I value my relationships. The trouble is, fear kicked in. I’d done such a great job (tongue in cheek) cleaning house in 2012, I found myself not wanting to rock the boat in 2013. That made me dishonest. I hate dishonesty. That hurt some very important, to me, relationships. Rather than honestly deal with issues, I internalized them and created a wedge with more than one person.

3. I cut off my spiritual arm to spite my face. I had my mentoring group and we studied scripture and whatnot, but that is not the same as being in fellowship with other Christians. I wasn’t even reading my bible if it didn’t pertain to my classes. I let my well run dry. That made me thirsty.

4. I caught myself wanting things that I didn’t have instead of being thankful for the things I did.  I started filling up a spiritual void with junk food. Wrong relationships, wrong motives, wrong everything really. Wishful thinking replaced right action mostly,

While it is true that I didn’t necessarily do something permanently stupid just because I was temporarily upset, I did hurt myself with my own unrealistic expectations of how it was supposed to be.

I refused to own my feelings. Or my thoughts. Every time something unpleasant bubbled up in my life – whether a relational conflict, or a fear, or hurt, or anger, I stuffed it and got busy doing more. The conflicts went unresolved.

I was alone long before I came out here because I’d already gone inward and withdrawn into myself.

The one thing I’ve wanted most in this life after kids is to live an authentic life.

Authentic lives are messy. They involve people. And before I can fully introduce myself to that equation, I have to deal with me first. And that is why I’m here.

*There are people in my life today who are allowed to call me Darlin’. They’ve earned that right. They are what Henry Townsend calls Safe People. They know that trust is earned and are gentle in the earning process. They tell the truth in love. (they call me on my bull) While they don’t always like me, they do express a kind of love that is endearing. They have boundaries and they respect mine. They give me a chance to make amends when needed and they own their own side of the sidewalk. Always a good sign.

So, dear readers — have you ever gone into the wilderness of alone, whether on purpose or out of necessity? Would you like to share something you learned?