This blogging once a week thing, isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.  I had an extremely busy week, yet I kept thinking of you all, and your families, in your corner of the world, and whether it was raining or sunny, or whether you all were happy, or sad.  And my big ego, of course, worried that I wasn’t missed, or worse still, that I was forgotten entirely as you went about your days.

I had been planning to read two books this past week, and also to write.  The books I didn’t touch, the writing very little.  I did clean my house from top to bottom, though, and I also baked almost every day.  Oh, and we played ball with the kids in the house, and managed to break a chandelier into a million pieces; pieces I’m still finding underneath bookcases and end tables.  But hey, we were having fun! And lighting stores are filled with chandeliers. And childhood is so short. So…

Anyway, wishing you all a lovely, sunny weekend! And one for me too.  I’m thinking of having a yard sale.  I need to, since chandeliers aren’t cheap.

Does life get any better than this? Friends around wishing us the best, our family’s unconditional love, great food, happy memories in the making to sustain us a lifetime.  From where I’m sitting, this moment in time is pure bliss.  All it needs is my grateful heart to acknowledge it.

For more Corner Views visit Jane at Spain Daily.

While I have been guilty for years, I have admitted to myself just recently, that for all my easy going and fun nature, I am an anxious person.  It helps, of course, that my mother was and is anxious.  I suppose that somewhere along the way it rubbed off on me.  I remember instances as a child and teenager when I’d agonize over things I had said, or feelings I may have hurt, by my flippant remarks.  The apprehensiveness was assuredly propelled along by my dear ones figuratively washing my mouth out with soap.  As a young adult right out of high school, that anxiety to be whatever my so called friends wanted me to be, to believe whatever they wanted me to believe, regardless of denouncing my true self in favor of what I was convinced was wrong, caused much internal anguish.  Since then, I have learned to speak my mind and stand my ground, even if unpopular to some, and yes, I have lost friendships in some instances.

Pregnant with my son and talking about the birthing process with my mother, my aunts, my sister and my friends, all of them brave women who had already experienced it, the anxiety lessened.  My sister, a big reader herself, recommended all the right books, non-fiction and fiction, and I willingly devoured them all.  The A Baby Story show helped as well.  As the big day approached I spent countless hours watching birth after birth, until I realized one day that I had no worries about that anymore.  Possibly that period of my life was the most worry free. I recall one night, spooning with my husband on the couch watching some show, and being swathed in tranquility.  I was happy, calm and content.  Then my son was born.  And I began to worry that I’d die before I had a chance to raise him and see him grow and I prayed as never before for good health, a sound mind, and old age.

As my son grew and then I had my daughter, concern about their well being, my well being and my husband’s well being became the accompanying white noise needed in my life.  When we used to have a TV, the Oprah Show and the local news were the main instigators of anxiety.  Now, of course, it isn’t as bad.  I get that rush of adrenaline from reading the papers.  Undoubtedly, underneath all the unease, is fear.  Fear of failure, fear of the evil humanity is capable of, fear of disease, fear of all that is out of our control, fear for my children, my nieces, my nephews, the children of my friends, fear for my aging parents, my sisters, my brothers, fear for their fears.  All wrapped up with a big, fat bow of anxiety around it and presented to me.  Somedays I accept it, frantically pulling it open by it’s barely sealed edges, somedays I demurely refuse, and others, I rudely hold up my hands and shake my head, wanting nothing to do with it.

I have won a darling April Cornell towel giveaway, courtesy of my fabulous friend, Bunny’s generosity. Stop on by and prepare to be enchanted as you visit The Paris House.

Weather-wise today was odd. Wind, rain, cold, interspersed with a bright sunny sky and a gentle breeze. Inside it was cozy and warm, all the lamps lit, everyone going about their business in the nicest way possible. I had a ton of paperwork, but two books arrived in the mail and deciding which to read first was of major importance.

The weekend wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated. Saturday morning was spent at our favorite bakery, chatting with neighborhood friends, drinking mugs of coffee and eating a few croissants each, after which we went to the book store where my sweet husband took the kids to the kid section and babysat them while I went in search for books. Somehow, I got lost in the maze of book shelves and emerged an hour later with my arms full. Then it was pizza for lunch and home,
where we all piled up in our king sized bed, each with our newly bought book treasures. But somehow we fell asleep. Each single one of us. Maybe the starches we consumed all day long were to blame, because we slept until the sky darkened. I was the first to wake up, disoriented and felling guilty for sleeping when I had so much work I needed to get done.

After a delicious omelet that hubby prepared, we went out for ice cream and dessert, then home for family game night. And so the day ended sometime around 1 am when I couldn’t keep my eyes open a moment longer, and my daughter fell asleep on the living room floor.

Then Sunday came with its breakfast out, visit to friends, grocery shopping, and another long nap. And now it’s Monday night. Although I did work today, it wasn’t rushed. I feel rested and ready
for this week. I believe it will be a good one. A blessed one. Wishing you a blessed one as well.

Congratulations to Beth for winning this last giveaway. Stop on by and say hello.

Also, I have been tagged to post my 10th photo by two lovely friends, and I’m sorry to say that I can’t since I’m having issues with my laptop and am working from my iPhone and iPad until this coming weekend.
Please visit Sharon and Ange, and wish them a beautiful week.

I am physically and emotionally exhausted.  I’ve been working late, writing even later, sleeping very little, eating way too much chocolate, and been very moody while at it.  I am so glad it’s Friday, although the weekend looks to be more of the same, minus the chocolate eating and the moody bit, I hope, particularly since my husband will be around and I hate picking fights with him.  But I am a woman of faith, and I will believe in the possibility of relaxing and enjoying myself.  Tomorrow morning we will get up early, go to our favorite breakfast place, chat with the familiar faces, sip our coffees, eat our croissants, and I for one, daydream of having my own cafe/bookstore, before heading back home and tackling the work that awaits me there.

I am wishing you all a relaxing and lovely weekend!

It’s late at night and the rain is falling, knocking at my window, wanting to share its pleasant scent with me and bless me with its drops.  I lift the sash a bit and breath in the smell of damp Spring earth, listen to the sounds of night, the muffled siren of the trains, the pitter-patter of night creatures I’m absolutely terrified of meeting close up.  From my upstairs window the tulips and the daffodils are mere shadows, almost lost in the mist that envelops the house.

I love how the rain cleanses the air.  I stick my tongue out, hoping to catch a droplet of rain on its tip. I get the feeling of being quenched of a thirst I didn’t know I have.

The house is silent, my lovelies fast asleep.  I brew another pot of mint tea, wrap my shawl and tie it around my waist.  I pick up my pen and get ready to write.  Words are spilling out, tripping over each other in their haste to see themselves on paper, each one greedier than the last.  I crack my stiff knuckles and obey their command.

Happy Earth Day! I have been too busy with my writing to join in posting specifically on the subject.  Visit Jane’s sidebar at #mce_temp_url# for some wonderful Corner Views from around the world.

Also, all comments are entered for the previous post’s book giveaway.

There’s a thread of mental illness running through my mother’s side of the family.  When I was a child and would cry uncontrollably my dad would shush me gently and tell me that it wasn’t healthy to allow my emotions to run loose. “Just look at so and so,” he’d say.  And I’d think about so and so and stop.  Although my mother’s side is brilliant, and my father’s side more practical and hardworking, they are also very emotional.  I wanted to be safe.  I wanted to be practical and hard working.  I had seen mental illness and it wasn’t pretty.

Well, today I cried and cried all day, and at a certain point wondered if maybe I was finally losing my mind.  My head was exploding.  My throat hurt.  Even the skin on my face felt raw.  I could barely open my mouth to speak. So I went in to see the doctor.  I was relieved to find out it is only an ear infection.  A really bad one, which I’m sure isn’t helped by the fact that I have a horrible habit of cleaning out my ears with cotton swabs.  Obsessively.  I have a thing with cleanliness.  Which is something else my dad used to worry about me when I was young: my need to always wash my hands and make sure all facial orifices were free of gunk.

Actually, there was a guy once when I was in high school that I liked a lot.  I was beside myself when he finally asked me on a date.  While standing in line waiting for him to buy the movie tickets, I noticed there was something glistening in his nose.  For the entire duration of the movie I was terrified that his mucus would drip on me; I couldn’t wait for the night to end.

Anyway, Victoria from #mce_temp_url# tagged me in a note, wanting to find out more things about me, probably thinking that there might be something cool.  (Sorry to disappoint you Victoria, but there isn’t. And I’m so stuffed with antibiotics and pain killers that even if I had something interesting to say, it would not come out right.) Victoria, however, is super cool and sophisticated and next to her I feel like a bumbling idiot.  Stop by and tell her hello for me.

Thanks in advance for your well wishes.  They mean the world to me.  I will be back on Sunday with an Easter story.  Until then, be well!

Okay, so here’s my biggest pet peeve: people who refer to themselves as over-educated. Excuse me? What?! How is that even possible? I was talking to this person I had just met, a thirty something New York woman waiting tables in one of the restaurants hubby and I frequent, and she referred to herself as, “your typical over-educated New Yorker.” It’s a good thing I have something called manners, well some manners, in any case, because I so wanted to ask her what exactly is she over-educated for, waiting tables?

Instead I smiled a tight little smile and raised my eyebrows to let her know exactly what I thought of her over-education. I didn’t say anything to hubby about it because he sometimes thinks I’m a tad too mean and judgmental, which by the way, is VERY true. I am. Certain things bring that out in me. In my defense however, mostly the culprit is stupidity disguised by seemingly intelligent words or actions. Intellectual pretentions that border on a suave sort of condescension, are the worst.

There are some people out there who fool many with their copious accumulation of liberally used learned phrases and words.  (I may be guilty of this too.  Not the fooling part, but the trying to fool part.)   Take this quote from Hilary Mandel’s, An Experiment In Love: Their manner was weary, as if they knew everything and had seen everything, and they paused often, perhaps in the middle of a phrase, to make a snickering sound that must have been laughter. Oh, and this part is my favorite: Their remarks reached no conclusion; at a certain point they would become slower, more sporadic, and finally peter out.

Finally, I hope that over-educated waitress will see the error of the self-portrait she draws for her clients and will quit with the attitude. At least until after they have tipped her.

(This isn’t directed at those who work in jobs beneath their education level, but rather at those with the attitude that they are way above what they do, and use their education as a part of their introduction of self.  ALSO, I have nothing against this profession.  In fact, I am often asked if I am a waitress and I can never decide if it’s because of my over friendly nature, my sometimes snobby attitude, or because I dress like one.)

ALSO: If anyone wants to email me, to tell me what they really think about me, click on the *About Me* link, upper left corner.

An authentic grateful heart is a hard one to come by because our present world runs on competition. Yet, the introspection that the season invariably causes within my being, finds me at peace.  With the wisdom of each passing year and each approaching Thanksgiving, I notice that I appreciate my life and my family more, and the need for acquiring things less.

I am happy and content in the richness of the love of those around me.  I refuse to be a victim of sadness.  Good health, wonderful and still nurturing parents, adoring husband and children, awesome siblings and friends, the courage and kindness God bestows upon me daily to face my fears and push through.  My grateful heart is filled with thanks for the wonderful moments that make up my existence.  I am blessed.

A grateful heart is up to us.  It takes but a moment of opening our eyes to see the blessings around us.  Believe that, and very soon it will become your reality.