Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Grieving the leaving



            Apparently I don’t deal as well with change as I fooled myself into believing thought.  My boss called a staff meeting Friday last and a little after 3 o’clock announced his retirement.  I was all right until he choked up a bit and after that there was no stopping the flow of tears down my face.  Since I wasn’t prepared for high emotion (no hanky), at one point I had to wipe my nose on my winter scarf.  I was so upset that I left work early, knowing I could not sit there with more tears ready to fall at any given second—and fall they did.

            It’s not that I resent the boss leaving; on the contrary I couldn’t be happier for him.  Since I myself am planning to exit in a couple of years, it would be selfish of me to want him to stay.  So why is his news hitting me this hard?

            Well, I thought it over and I believe I figured it out.  To me, leaving, at least this form, equals a kind of death.  So I’m basically grieving.  I’m sad the person is gone (death/retirement) but I’m happy they’re out of their former circumstances (sickness/pain/work).  Grieving the leaving…at least it makes sense in my head.

            Now, the office secretary is also leaving, at the end of February, and the boss is leaving in June.  There will also be a new university president around June.  My work world is about to change and in a big way.  I do have a safety net in that I have all the years of service necessary to retire should things become intolerable.  My motto has always been “change is good” but lately I’m having a hard time convincing myself. 

Thursday, December 4, 2014

The beauty of black flowers

I now have a small bouquet of black roses (fake) sitting on my computer desk at the office.  Mr. Pale bought them for the retirement party of his office manager, then gifted them to moi when I expressed an interest.  (Actually I think I said, "You're NOT going to throw those away, are you??") 

Had I debuted them during Halloween season I doubt anyone would have noticed, but I didn't display them until the middle of November.  As you might imagine, their presence has generated some interest amongst my coworkers and the braver of the bunch have asked "why?"  Are they symbolic of a death or what?  I told them that I lean a little towards the darker side of life and one guy replied, "I can see that about you."  LoL 

Read more about beautiful black flowers here http://blog.interflora.co.uk/top-10-black-flowers/
and here http://www.odditycentral.com/pics/the-stunningly-beautiful-black-roses-of-halfeti.html
Wouldn't those black roses look stunning in a Victorian garden!  
And here's a link for growing a black garden http://www.gardeningknowhow.com/special/spaces/black-flower-gardens.htm

Monday, December 1, 2014

December: Time to protect!

Winter weather can do a number on one's ends even if one has healthy, split-end-free hair.  It's the artificial heat and the friction from clothing (bundled up about one's neck) and the cold, blowing wind.  I noticed lately that my ends were feeling a bit dry, so I have started using Pantene's "repair and protect" conditioner along with my usual "sheer volume" shampoo.  The R&P conditioner is absolutely lovely; nice and thick and, well...protective.  lol  My ends already feel much better, even after two uses.  I recommend this product--give it a try.  Also, remember to protect your tresses from the wind (cold or otherwise) by NOT letting it get blown around...pin it up with a claw clip or at least secure it in a ponytail.  You can always let down your hair once you reach your destination.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Hair post Nov. 19, 2014

A couple of pics I just took earlier.  Yes, that's the glorious ladies bathroom at work. 








Current products are Pantene Sheer Volume shampoo & conditioner.  I try to go 2 or 3 days between washes, pulling the length into a twist bun or a ponytail and using a headband to camouflage the thinness up front.  (The thinness isn't as evident when hair is clean.)  I have no idea how long my hair is in terms of measurement; it appears to be hitting between armpit and (top of) bra strap length.  I have found a couple of greys lately about which I am totally stoked!  I have no intention of covering up any greys with dye.  To me, grey hair is beautiful, like a badge of honor.  Anyway, my hair is healthy & happy right now.  Since winter-like weather has already hit us (what's up with *that*??), I do need to pay close attention to my ends for dryness. 

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Violet Dress (Lily Collins)







Dear God in heaven, isn't this dress simply divine?!  If you click here and scroll down, you'll see a photo of the back of the gown--just as pretty as the front.  I'm curious what her shoes look like, but have only spotted a glimpse of the toe. 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Friday, October 3, 2014

Book Review: They Say the Sirens Left the Seas

Today I'm reviewing a book of poetry written by James Hutchings, titled "They Say the Sirens Left the Seas". 

I enjoy reading classical poetry (Robert Frost, anyone?) but modern poetry tends to make my brain hurt.  At any rate, I had reviewed James' earlier work (The New Death and Others) and when he asked me to review "Sirens" I agreed to do so.  I must admit to being pleasantly surprised.  There are too many gems in his latest publication that I would be hard pressed to choose only one favorite. 

The very first entry, The Ship In the Clouds, seems quite Poe-esque (Mr. Poe being a favored writer of mine).  Here's a snippet:
"...and it seemed as I sighed that the world must have died
for the sea and the stones and the hills
had been wrapped in a shroud of the heaviest cloud
and lay cold, and unspeaking, and still."

Another poem called She Was, If I Were Forced to Guess" literally made me laugh out loud with its nod to being middle aged (as I am):

"She Was, If I Were Forced to Guess
She was, if I were forced to guess
round twenty-five, or maybe less.
A tiny skirt and clicking heels
as high and shining as ideals.
Her legs were long, and lean, and taut.
I looked at her and sadly thought
"Poor girl. She must be very cold."
Oh God.
I'm old."


Some of the poems remind me of the Irish limerick style of writing; there are tales set in the old West, threads of love and death and a mother's sacrifice (The Trials of Jenny Brown).  All in all, a very good volume that did not make my brain hurt.  Thank you, James, for allowing me to read your writing.