Day 147. Looking Back

We’re mere hours away from a brand new year.  What better time to reflect?  When I started this, particular, blog back in August I really had no idea how it would turn out.  I woke up one morning and decided, there and then, I wanted a blog.  One just for ‘me’.  Where I’d write every day come hell or high water.

About anything and everything.  Whatever popped into my head.  Whatever inspired me.  Whatever I felt like writing about.

Whatever.

And before I could change my mind, I picked a format, played with it a bit, wrote my ‘pages’ and had my first post written.  And published.  All in the space of a few hours.  I was committed.  Publicly.  And anyone who knows me

Day 146. Bye Bye

Don’t know about you, but I’m ready.  I’ve seen quite a few of them come and go in my time.  Sometimes I’m kinda sorry when the 31st comes along.  When it’s been a good year; and I wish we could hang on to it, just a bit longer.

But this year.  Ta Ta.  Vamoose.  So long.  Scram.  Ciao.

Not that it’s been awful for me.  It hasn’t.  It’s got nothing to do with ‘my’ world.  I’m talking about the world at large.  The one we all inhabit.  The idealist in me is disappointed.  And frustrated.

I’m ready to say good-bye.

To violence.  Unnecessary bloodshed.  Guns.  Knives.  Grenades.  Bombs.  The threat of nuclear weapons.  Dead bodies.  Young.  Old.  Rich.  Poor.  Lives cut short, for no reason.  In our neighbourhoods.  In nearby cities.  

Day 145. Oh My …

Apologies.  I’m at risk of repeating myself.  But there comes a point when even writers run out of words.  As challenging as 2012 has been for all of us, it has also been an exciting one, for me.  And I hope, for you, as well.

After years of writing various blogs on WordPress (I think it’s four), and trying different ‘subjects’,  ideas and voices, I’m finally ‘home’.  What I’m doing here, on 365, really works for me.  I love getting up every morning and writing this blog.  In fact, I can’t wait to get up every morning and get started.  It makes me happy.  It satisfies me.  And the best part is, you seem to like it, too.

You tell me every time you visit.  Every time you return.  Every time you ‘like’.  Every time you comment.

Seeing my ‘views’ increase all the time, watching my number of ‘followers’ grow and grow and grow is an absolute thrill.  Realizing, whenever I look at the map, just how far-reaching my blog is, absolutely amazes me. The response I got after being Freshly Pressed was ‘off the charts’.  An indescribable feeling.

As if all this isn’t beyond fabulous, a number of you have thought enough of what I’m writing, to give me several

Day 144. Becoming ‘Involved’

Yesterday I read a truly inspiring post on The Green Study. In fact, it was the second installment, in what is going to become a series on ‘giving’. Now what every writer knows is, each of us ‘reads’ differently. We read ‘into’ things differently. We all extract a different message, a different meaning.

My ‘take’ on what I’ve been reading is, the author of this wonderful blog is grappling with figuring out how she can support the causes she cares about, in a way she finds meaningful and personally satisfying. Which isn’t always by writing a cheque. Again, let me reiterate. This is my interpretation of what she’s saying. It may not be her intent, at all. You should read them for yourselves. Believe me, you’ll be inspired.

It’s made me think of my own approach. What I do. How. And why.

Sometimes, it is by writing a cheque. I have many friends and family members who have, unfortunately, been ‘touched’ by one

Day 143. Love, Actually

Nope.  Don’t go jumping to any conclusions.  This has nothing to do with either Hugh Grant or the movie (in which he appeared) of the same name.  We’re just days away from a brand new year, and I’ve been reflecting, that’s all.

Thinking about 2012, and how it’s been.  Not the ‘world’ view.  How it’s been for me.  What I accomplished.  What remains undone.  People I’ve met.  Friends I’ve lost.  Frustrations.  Disappointments.  Victories.  Where to go from ‘here’.

That took me to ‘blessings’ I should be counting.  Not that much of a stretch, really.  Which, in turn, led me to ‘favourites’.  Favourite moments, favourite experiences, favourite lessons learned.  Favourite ‘things’.  Songs, films, food, shoes, etcetera etcetera etcetera.

Again, not a stretch.

Next thing I knew I was back at Ogilvy, remembering two of my favourite television commercials.  One was for American Express, the other for Jaguar.  Wrong,

Day 142. Not Me!

Uh, uh.  Not so fast.  I know.  I know.  The last of the torn bits of Christmas wrap have finally been vacuumed away.  The rings left on tables, by damp glasses, are all wiped up.  The turkey’s just about gone, but the soup’s done; and ready for enjoying.  Smelled good, too, as it was boiling away last night, if you say so yourself.

Now you’re starting to ‘consolidate’ all the left over baked goods, into fewer tins.  Not a moment too soon, because your jeans are already too tight at the waist.

The dog’s so exhausted he’s fast asleep on your favourite chair, his new rawhide bone laying, discarded, beside him.  The man of the house is snoring away on the couch.  The kids are off skating or reading or playing with some of their new toys.  Or maybe their old ones.  You can never tell with kids.  Old and forgotten one minute, a favourite again the next.

The good news is, they’re quiet.  They’re not fighting with each other.  Yet.  And you’re sighing with relief.  

Day 141. Christmas Spirit

Even though I’m not ‘of the faith’, I’ve always loved Christmas. While it has no religious significance for me, I am always buoyed by the ‘spirit’ of it. It’s one of the only ‘holidays’ when families truly make an effort to be together, regardless of the travelling involved. It’s also a cheerful and convivial time.

Friends and neighbours are always invited to drop in, and wherever you go, you’re greeted by the sound of music, laughter, shrieking children, barking dogs, ice tinkling in glasses and cups clattering on saucers.

You’re also met by the most intoxicating scents, and sights: Toasty fires, glowing candles, colourful stockings hanging from mantels, candy canes, nutmeg, cinnamon, hot chocolate and all manner of cookies, baking away in the oven. And even though I know they’re messy, as far as I’m concerned, nothing beats the smell of a real pine tree in the house. Nothing.

Suddenly, the stress leading up to Christmas is gone. And once December 25th finally arrives, everyone’s mood becomes

Day 140. I’m Blushing

Honestly, I don’t know what to say.  It’s an embarrassment of riches.  Back in October, a fellow blogger nominated my blog for the Lovely Blogger Award.  Just a week or so ago, another blogger gave me the 2012 Blog of the Year Award.  And then a couple of days later, one of my posts was Freshly Pressed.  There’s no question, I’ve received more than my fair share of recognition, lately.

And now there’s more.  Which is why my face is flushed.  I’m not someone who craves the spotlight.

Last Saturday Mavis, who writes Mavimet’s Weblog, nominated me for a Very Inspiring Blogger Award.  I was only introduced to Mavis’s blog recently, but I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read so far.  Two of her ‘weaknesses’ are chocolate and popcorn; and she writes about pets and life, including Africa.  Of course given my affection for

Day 139. My Outtakes

When you’re making films, television programs and even commercials there are always portions of the work that don’t make it into the final product.  They end up ‘on the cutting room floor’.  They’re the ‘outtakes’.

It’s not that anything’s necessarily ‘wrong’ with them.  When the editor and director sit down to put it all together, they just may not ‘fit’.  There may be better versions of a particular scene or performance.  And sometimes they’re mistakes.  When actors flub their lines.  Or when the unexpected happens at precisely the moment when the cameras are rolling.  Bloopers.  And blunders.

They don’t all end up in the trash.  More and more, we’re seeing them added to DVDs, as special features.  And sometimes they’re included at the very end of the film, as part of the ‘credits’.  We enjoy them, because it’s a peek behind the scenes.  And it’s also a chance to witness a slice of someone else’s reality.

I think the same thing happens in ‘life’.  Not every moment of our existence is captured in perpetuity.  We don’t

Day 138. Maternal Instincts

I’ve never had children.  My choice.  It’s not that I don’t like them.  I do.  I love them.  I just never wanted any of my own.  I like nothing more than spending time with my friends’, colleagues’ and family’s kids and grand kids.  I’m a great ‘aunt’.

And then I’m happy to go home to the relative peace and quiet of my life.  And my house.  And in case you’re wondering, I’ve never regretted it.  Not for a minute.  Not even when I am holding the most beautiful, wonderful, warm, cuddly, sweet-smelling baby in my arms.  Which I love doing, incidentally.

Hey there, hang on a minute.  Don’t go rushing off, analyzing me.  I had two of the greatest parents anyone could have.  They loved me.  Took care of me.  Nurtured me.  Spent time with me.  Taught me.  Guided me.  Advised me.  Helped me.  Protected me.  Talked openly to me, about anything and everything.  Set great examples for me.  And, when it was time, they set me free, as difficult as it was for them.  Free to become my own person.  Free to create my own life.  Free to make my own mistakes.  Free to make my own choices.  Free to become ‘me’.  Not their idea of me.

So “no”, there was NOTHING in my childhood that would account for my not wanting babies of my own.  I had an idyllic upbringing.  My mom and dad made it look so simple, if anything, I should have wanted dozens.

Sometimes, because I have to know what makes people tick, myself included, I’ve self-analyzed:  Is it because I’m an only