tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40449836739296345562024-03-04T20:02:45.697-08:00How we live nowHealthy. Whole. Loving and Learning.Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-328026160361311682017-06-12T16:43:00.001-07:002017-06-12T16:43:47.085-07:00Happy Birthday, Mama<div class="MsoNormal">
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Happy Birthday, Mama!<br />
You were here just a moment ago, gone far too soon, but the
life you lived, despite the heartache, the hardship and the illness was a life
of wonder. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Living with that loss now for 27 years, I know that grief is
a process that does not end. Always the emptiness is there, the lack. Always,
the one I’d want to share this moment with is missing. Knowing that your life
was cut far too short is the driving force behind who I am and how I live. Nearly all
that I am is because of you, the life you lived so creatively or losing you so young. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I know that we tend to memorialize those who have died. I recognize in myself that there is no desire to dredge up the
negative: I could write of the depression you suffered without a diagnosis, the
pain that defined your days or the way your stubborn nature resulted
in your death. But none of that is useful. Instead I write of all the ways you
embraced life and inspire me to do the same.</div>
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Those who knew you well would describe you as a spontaneous spirit, someone whose stubborn, self reliance bordered on rebellion at times. Your spontaneity resulted in spur of the moment weekend road trips as often as you could afford gas in the tank. To this day, I can't see a bag of old-fashioned lemon drop hard candy without thinking of those road trips and remembering that bright orange 1979 Mazda 626 you drove so fast and with such flair.<br />
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You didn't teach me how to cook, but I became a baker because of you. If you were known for one thing, it would have been your cinnamon rolls. And when I see my children carrying on that love of baking, I know it is you living on in them.</div>
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You loved to take pictures. I don't know if you would have called yourself a photographer. Neither do I, but every picture I ever took with your old Pentax I inherited or any newer camera I have owned, channels your creativity.</div>
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They said you had a green thumb. Why did I not inherit that trait from you, Mom? I keep trying. </div>
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And what about your musical talent? You had a voice that underwent an amazing transformation: changing as a result of your illness from soprano to tenor. You adapted and you shared your gift so generously, singing in church, in community groups and in quartets. And the piano. You were amazing on the piano. I don't have the gift of music: but I have a storehouse of memories that can be laid open at the sound of a piano chord or an old church hymn. </div>
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Here's another thing we share: coffee. It's silly, I know, to make much of the small details. You loved coffee. Of course you did, you were a smart woman. I hold on to that minor piece of the puzzle because I have so few to complete the picture of you. But, I have this. This memory of you bringing me a cup of coffee. It was pale with cream, just how you liked it. Though my preference is black, today I had a cup with cream in your memory.</div>
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I have so many memories of you outdoors. I don't think it is something we spoke of: you just gravitated towards nature. You gave that gift to me. You'll be proud to know that is has been passed on to your grandkids.</div>
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You were something of a dare-devil, afraid of almost nothing and though you died before people spoke much of things like bucket-lists, I'm pretty sure yours included driving a race car. </div>
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Every dive, every flight, every climb I make is inspired by you, Mom. For if you didn't teach me this in living, you most certainly did in dying: life is short, there is no guarantee of tomorrow. Live deep. </div>
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For all you have given me, you are remembered in love or your birthday. Cheers, Mama!</div>
Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-62201014970641285132017-01-16T13:56:00.000-08:002019-01-30T13:29:53.195-08:00Get thin, Get rich, Get likes. <div class="_2cuy _3dgx" data-block="true" data-editor="58l7o" data-offset-key="5l0v5-0-0" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1d2129; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; margin: 0px auto 28px; white-space: pre-wrap; width: 700px; word-wrap: break-word;">
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<span data-offset-key="5l0v5-0-0">Happy New Year. 2017. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="9irpb-0-0">Everywhere you go this month, online, in stores, on radio and TV, the ads will be there, preying on your vulnerability. I don’t know why we choose the beginning of a new year to attempt to overhaul our lives. Except, maybe the passing of a calendar year, with dreams yet to be fulfilled, reminds us of how quickly time passes, how little time we have left to “finally make it”, “get thin”, “get rich”, get Instafamous. </span></div>
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I love New Year’s Resolutions. I am a firm believer in them. I make them every year and often in the middle of the year too. I don’t just make one. I am your typical American (50% will make resolutions) who over-resolves, making not just one resolution, but a whole dang list. I resolve big and little things: Love better, Be on Time, Run a marathon, Stay in touch with friends. I do it the Right Way too. I get specific. I make my goals measureable. I plan out baby-steps to move me toward achieving them. So, I am not here to tell you that you shouldn’t make resolutions. By all means, make them, my dear. Resolve right now to achieve it all in 2017. But, please, don’t spend your money with charlatans. </div>
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<span data-offset-key="85lpn-0-0">By all means, make resolutions my dear. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="3jgtf-0-0">Weight loss is invariably one of the top five New Year’s Resolutions. Is it on your list this year? If so, you will likely be hearing all the solutions available to you right now and feeling a bit overwhelmed, a bit, adrift perhaps, in the sea of weight loss claims. The weight loss industry is one of the fastest growing and as part of the overall wellness industry is expected to continue to trend upward in 2017. “Wellness” products: foods, beverages, vitamins, supplements and gimmicky weight loss gadgets available to the average consumer today can be found online, in grocery and health food stores, through gyms and even from your neighbor, as direct marketing continues to grow. It’s not surprising to me as a healthcare professional to hear my patients repeat ridiculous health related claims that are used to sell products. They’ll often ask my opinion about a particular product. And I try to give them good advice. </span></div>
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Apple Cider Vinegar is one of my all-time favorites. “Why?” I always ask. Why would you drink it straight when it makes such a lovely salad dressing? I promise you that drinking straight vinegar will not help you lose the fifty pounds you need to lose. Changing your diet to one of real, whole foods and moving your body on a regular basis: those things will take off the weight. But it is depressingly slow and we want insta-results. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Your neighbor, your colleague, your niece, even your friend from high school: they aren’t necessarily out to take your money with their direct marketing weight loss products. I am sure that many of them truly believe in the products they want to sell you. But be wary. Don’t spend any money you aren’t willing to gamble. And please, if your weight has become a medical issue then don’t play around with it. Get medical help. </span></div>
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Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-86239608467399071412016-05-28T22:41:00.001-07:002017-06-12T19:45:01.977-07:00Bonaire Shore Diving 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Bonaire. February. 2016<br />
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It's a desert island.<br />
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When I look at the pictures I think...there was a lot of wildlife.<br />
And diving. A lot of diving.<br />
And driving around in a truck that was made in China<br />
over rough, dusty roads,<br />
the truck filled with nitrox tanks,<br />
where the view on one side was cactus and rock<br />
and on the other<br />
it was clear blue water.<br />
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We had some equipment failures.<br />
But, you know, divers help each other out. We had my regulator working again in less than an hour. Labor paid in beer. To a shop manager who wasn't even getting our business that week. That's how divers do it.<br />
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Rob made his 100th dive.<br />
Then we celebrated with caipirinhas.<br />
Later in the week, I made my 100th dive. Off La Dania's Leap.<br />
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Shore diving is something you should do.<br />
It makes you a better diver.<br />
We planned our entrances and exits over rough coral,<br />
and through surf.<br />
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We did some amazing night dives,<br />
sharing the reef with two tarpon as big as me.<br />
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We lost a camera.<br />
In the ocean.<br />
the OCEAN.<br />
And we swam our search pattern and found it.<br />
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Then we celebrated with caipirinhas.<br />
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You should go there.<br />
To Bonaire.<br />
Do the Leap.<br />
Do all the dives.<br />
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Take pictures of the blue waters.<br />
Be nice to the donkeys<br />
And cats<br />
And epic iguanas.<br />
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Be gentle with the reef.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignDRroAT1EMWhlU_MQziZ6UGekuf1HwiNSZgfpUX0GLjtIKGhaHpzy72ahTCRD7CWx5-cFbbJSKG0GhoQltvbsRSik9tE4NxSkDo4bVOvfmGB9UOFKQLuAFF13e0fih71VK67K4F5FR1h/s1600/IMG_0181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignDRroAT1EMWhlU_MQziZ6UGekuf1HwiNSZgfpUX0GLjtIKGhaHpzy72ahTCRD7CWx5-cFbbJSKG0GhoQltvbsRSik9tE4NxSkDo4bVOvfmGB9UOFKQLuAFF13e0fih71VK67K4F5FR1h/s640/IMG_0181.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bushes that surrounded our porch were home to this guy and several of his friends</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stayed at The Caribbean Club</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcGfa_ONtb5_Sh3ERccbZlPQfFCPHYzeKDIzQMSwt1rG29lLkFORfdrQQFFwFI39xYxucqvrOM6Y4ion67yfcuQ7nteMbJb2F7a9auE5OqM4g4oE2-OGJ_PcdFjGhg7uuxQTOVM5BXXx9/s1600/12734186_10206954404232233_5360235213050079794_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcGfa_ONtb5_Sh3ERccbZlPQfFCPHYzeKDIzQMSwt1rG29lLkFORfdrQQFFwFI39xYxucqvrOM6Y4ion67yfcuQ7nteMbJb2F7a9auE5OqM4g4oE2-OGJ_PcdFjGhg7uuxQTOVM5BXXx9/s320/12734186_10206954404232233_5360235213050079794_n.jpg" width="352" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fence around our cottage</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out our incredible patio!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is pretty much where we lived when we weren't diving. The view. The breeze. The iguana....</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob's 100th dive!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The caipirinha!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bar side pool.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh yes, There was also Heineken. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello, friend!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the bar cats.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caribbean Club</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That water</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a SCAP. Google it. Keeps your hair in place. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1000 steps. Ok...maybe 72. But you try carrying your gear up after the dive! This is a Don't Miss dive site. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Dania's Leap</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 100th dive!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So, we weren't huge fans of the Cactus Spirits...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But, it was fun to visit the distillery, nonetheless</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinese truck filled with Nitrox tanks.</td></tr>
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Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0Caribbean Netherlands12.1783611 -68.23853394.3423836 -78.565682399999986 20.014338600000002 -57.911385399999993tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-78614094893158352112015-11-21T14:24:00.000-08:002017-06-12T16:48:29.050-07:00Snowy November Days and Memories of a Child-like FaithNot sure where it came from this morning, but my head has been in the past, dredging up memories of my kids as small children playing in the snow decoupaged over memories of my own childhood. I’m sure this song was just stored away up there somewhere. I haven’t heard it in years but I found myself belting it out in the kitchen as I stirred the tomato sauce. Have a listen:<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhUvFqOY00I" target="_blank">One Day at a Time, Sweet Jesus</a><br />
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No, really. Click on the link and listen to the song. It’s an integral part of this. I’m a sucker for the old Gospel hymns.<br />
I can see my mom sitting at the piano, my sisters and I gathered round singing. This one, and, The Old Rugged Cross, and Great is Thy Faithfulness. <br />
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Those were the days when faith was simple and true. Black and white. Jesus loves me. Church on Sunday morning and then, on snowy days like this one, bundling up in our 70’s era coats and boots and playing for hours in the snow. My sisters and I, and Jesus.<br />
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Where did they go? Those days. My children. My sisters. Jesus.<br />
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This must be nostalgia speaking. So forgive me if I trend sappy here. But sometimes I long for the simple and true. For the cold, wet hands of a child fresh in from the snow. For that solid presence beside me, that person who knows me, hates and loves me simultaneously and knows the same old Gospel hymns as I do. Sometimes I long for Jesus.<br />
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We grow up. Our children grow too. Snowy days are different now. So much is lost along the way to this strange place. What remains of that childhood faith?<br />
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<i>“Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold. Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”</i> Yeats<br />
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Can I trace back to when things started to fall apart for me? When that simple faith of childhood began to crumble away leaving a complicated mess of desire and skepticism. One might try to blame my liberal arts education. I suspect that a strong sarcastic streak and my own sinful, rebellious nature is more likely the culprit. I’ve never abandoned Christianity, but I’ve never fully embraced a church since reaching adulthood.<br />
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Leaving behind my solid Baptist upbringing and marrying into the Catholic Church at a young age set into play a habit that has been hard to abandon: that of standing just on the periphery of organized religion and making pot-shots at it. That of course, at the same time as I was dutifully raising my children to be good Catholics. It didn’t add up to a very satisfying spiritual experience, I’ll admit. I attempted to get real some years ago, deciding to go all in. I went through the process of getting confirmed and became a Real Catholic. I’m sorry to say that it didn’t stick. I’m sure that reflects a huge lack of commitment on my part. 20+ years of Catholic mass and there are a few things I really love about it....the rare times that they sing the classic hymns I grew up with, the sharing of peace, infant baptism (yeah, I know...but it’s symbolic and beautiful), and this: “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the words and I shall be healed.” Truer words have not been spoken and they resonated with me from day one: me, the little Baptist girl among the Papists.<br />
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Nowadays, I go to mass with my kids when they are around, and I go to one of those fluffy, feel-good Christian churches with Rob, if he’s home on a Sunday. The music there is hard to stomach. I feel like I’m in a propaganda machine, the lights, the big screens projecting the lyrics, all calculated to enhance my emotional response. But the minister seems like an intelligent guy and I respect that. He urges us to be better people, to love more purely, to put our faith into action: things we all want. I listen to my grown children and watch them live out their own version of faith, hoping that their sharp intellect and wit is not a harbinger of faithlessness. I pray that I have not ruined God for them.<br />
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Yeats may have been prophetic. His verses speak so clearly of the troubled days we live in. I read the words of Pope Francis today, and my heart cries out at the truth He speaks as well: “Christmas is approaching: there will be lights, parties, Christmas trees and nativity scenes … it’s all a charade. The world continues to go to war. The world has not chosen a peaceful path.” When anarchy reigns and peace is nowhere to be found I feel overwhelmed at the scope of misery, fear and pain. What is to be done? What is one lapsed Catholic, wanna-be Christian to do?<br />
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I don’t have the answers. But this is what I strive for: to be a better wife, mother and friend, to heal my own heart, to offer kindness to each person I meet. I greet each baby born into my hands with these words, “welcome to the world, little one,” and then, silently, a prayer.<br />
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It’s late November and snow is falling in earnest, the first snow of the year. Now it will begin to feel like the Holidays. There is always, with me, a wistfulness around the holiday season, when longing is intensified, memories are awakened and family members, long gone or distant are sorely missed. Can I take my longing for connection and my helplessness and somehow meld them together into something? Something practical? Something that will bring meaningful good into this broken old world of ours? There’s a lot to do.<br />
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Here, on this blustery, Saturday morning, I’m not sure whether I’ll be in church tomorrow morning, but the music that stirs my soul is available right here on Youtube. I’ll be singing the old-time hymns and looking for strength each day, to do the things I have to do.Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-89278126112274425382015-09-29T05:02:00.003-07:002015-09-29T05:02:58.871-07:00She lives her life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-81055374833503447312015-09-10T17:09:00.000-07:002017-06-12T20:04:53.631-07:00Niagara Falls in one afternoonLast weekend, we had a bit of business that took us to Buffalo, New York. So, we jumped on the opportunity to take a quick day trip to Niagara Falls with R and A. With my call schedule, and Rob's flying schedule, we couldn't leave for Buffalo until Sunday morning, the day before Labor Day. We were on the first flight out and after a long layover in O'Hare, which we filled with a leisurely breakfast of omelets at Berghoff Cafe, we arrived in Buffalo at 1:30 p.m. <br />
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Our business was completed in short order and we made our way over to Niagara Falls State Park on what turned out to be possibly the busiest day EVER!<br />
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We had one destination in mind and agreed in advance that no matter how long the lines were reported to be, we would wait. We wanted to see Cave of the Winds: the one place where you can get closest to the falls.<br />
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We bought our tickets: $54 for the four of us seemed like a reasonable price. Especially when you consider that the price includes these lovely sandals!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes. This photo took some coercion. </td></tr>
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The sandals begin to make much more sense once you reach the falls and find yourself walking on slippery decking in sometimes several inches of water.<br />
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The line to Cave of the Winds was indeed LOOOONG. We waited for 2 hours and 40 minutes. A little bit of ice-cream happened during that time to make it slightly more bearable!<br />
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Here we are nearing the end of our wait.<br />
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And now, for the good pics. The Falls were....all the usual words and more. Magnificent. Overwhelming. Awe inspiring. You should go there. <br />
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They provide rain ponchos. A lovely look overall, don't you think?<br />
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As we got closer. We got much more wet. <br />
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Eventually, I had to turn off my camera. It was drowning. Here are some after pics. </div>
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It was getting dark. The lights of the Canadian side beckoned. </div>
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So, we walked across the pedestrian bridge, passports in hand, went through customs and spent about half an hour in Canada. Just enough time for a t-shirt purchase!</div>
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It was a short trip, but we made the most of our afternoon and evening! The kids loved it and were, as always very pleasant traveling companions. Even on the ten hour drive home the next day. </div>
Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-90327944343494184552015-03-22T10:47:00.002-07:002017-06-12T19:59:48.923-07:00Guerilla marketing: World's Best SalsaR, K and I took a spring break trip that will go down in the pass travel history books as a FAIL, but we ended up having a sweet little road trip adventure. Read about it <a href="http://www.thisishowwelivenow.blogspot.com/2015/03/drive-til-we-find-white-sand-spring.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Then this happened on the way home. It needed a post all to itself. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDjvmXcVpMMOCcSSIuy6DCEiJKSzzcxKjyLMsqyPqQtoeoI3i4jR9RseTVZ3k_FvBh6HsoFSgzaiqG-M26XYFu1G4AT098vlTFyWdb8TTH12MvyEvLXOdpywDAG0Bbcswf6KEfd7Cuw2V/s1600/13165993_1012478548844304_5808126225548288802_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDjvmXcVpMMOCcSSIuy6DCEiJKSzzcxKjyLMsqyPqQtoeoI3i4jR9RseTVZ3k_FvBh6HsoFSgzaiqG-M26XYFu1G4AT098vlTFyWdb8TTH12MvyEvLXOdpywDAG0Bbcswf6KEfd7Cuw2V/s320/13165993_1012478548844304_5808126225548288802_n.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
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"Excuse me ma'am, would you like to try the world's best salsa? " It
was 2a.m., an Exxon Mobil station 44 miles south of Birmingham. Very few
folks about. I was walking in to get a cup of possibly the world's
worst coffee, but my driving leg was about to start and I was sleepless. Which maybe
explained my hesitation. But there, leaning out of a minivan was a fresh
faced and grinning young man: Anthony Ingram. I glanced at the decal on the van, only
to have it confirmed: Tony Tejas, The world's best salsa<span class="text_exposed_show">! So, Duh.<br /> "Sure!" I said. Because what goes better with a 2 a.m. fuel stop in the middle of Alabama than the world's best salsa.<br />
"I'll have a sample for you when you get out". Two young men, taking
their salsa to Birmingham to a distributor. Eager, friendly and in
possession of some serious salsa. Fresh. Not preserved. A shelf life,
refrigerated, of 21 days. He brought a 4 oz deli container over to the
car after buying a new bag of tortilla chips for us to sample with. The
girls and I agreed. The fresh cilantro and lime flavor up front is
slightly subdued by a smoky finish. One free 4 oz sample, a business
card, and promises to like their facebook page were exchanged. A selfie
was grudgingly agreed to by me. And we were back on the road. The salsa:
as we were reminded twice, is like a party in your mouth. Order some
today!</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show"><a href="https://twitter.com/TejasSalsa/media" target="_blank">Tony Tejas Salsa</a> </span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tonys-Tejas-Salsa/329398137235970" target="_blank">Tony Tejas Salsa on Facebook</a> </span>Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-24588268516272582042015-03-22T10:46:00.000-07:002017-06-12T20:00:20.466-07:00Drive til we find white sand: Spring Break 2015We had planned to fly to Corpus Christi. It was a good plan. It started with taking R&K's car to St. Louis and spending the night there, so that we could fly in and out of St. Louis. I had planned that we'd hop on the first flight out Thursday morning and be on the beach in Corpus Christi by noon.<br />
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We got a late start out of town. Just. Because. Then K realized she'd left her phone in the house. So, another delay. But, eventually we were en route around 7:00pm. R took the wheel. I began checking and rechecking flight loads and realized we should have a back-up plan. The flights, which had been wide open as recently as that morning, were slowly filling up. Why is it so impossible to catch a ride to Houston??<br />
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When we were about an hour from St. Louis, I broke the news to the girls. It didn't look like we'd make the flights in the morning. The good news was, they were up for a drive.<br />
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We just kept heading south and I was eating up my data plan looking for white sand and a cheap hotel. Pensacola, New Orleans, Gulf Shores....we chose Fort Walton.<br />
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About 13 hours after passing St. Louis, having stopped for breakfast along the way, we pulled into our hotel, checked in early and hit the beach....beneath cloud covered skies.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E_kq6sOZTUI/VQ7zbkDzSUI/AAAAAAAAHEc/92u4wcw_udk/s1600/2015-03-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E_kq6sOZTUI/VQ7zbkDzSUI/AAAAAAAAHEc/92u4wcw_udk/s1600/2015-03-12.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ghost pier</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We walked the beach in the gloom and fog, stopped at The Crab Trap for an appetizer, pulled up weather reports for the next few days, and formulated yet another Plan B for our mini-vacation. <br />
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Our plan started with a trip to Barnes and Noble where we all picked out books. We found a publix and bought snacks, ordered a pizza from Crust Pizzeria and picked it up on our way back to the hotel.<br />
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The next morning we braved the cool, foggy weather again, sitting on the beach with our books, just enjoying the sound of the waves.<br />
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When it started to rain, we packed up, and went in search of coffee and treats. We found The Donut Hole. And this:<br />
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And then we went shopping!<br />
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That evening we ate at Boshamps in Destin. It has a low-key atmosphere, (imagine northwoods meets beach) and fantastic food. We all chose from the day's catch: grouper, snapper and swordfish and shared a fresh mango creme brulee for dessert. <br />
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Our last day on the beach, the skies finally cleared and the sun came out. <br />
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It ended up being a long drive for one day in the sun, but we all agreed it was worth it. <br />
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Tell me about your spring break trip. Do you have any travel plans that ended up not as you originally imagined?Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-37353927698831418422015-03-21T11:36:00.001-07:002017-06-12T20:05:26.748-07:00Six hours in St. Louis<br />
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I had been missing my girlies in a bad way. I had been promising a visit down to SLU for weeks. Last Saturday, we made the trip, Rob, R and I, down for a quick visit. Do the math: the four hour drive down + the 6 hour drive home (through snow and ice) for a 6 hour visit? It only makes sense if you are a mom missing your kids. And, if you have a fabulous hubs willing to do ALL the driving! <br />
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We arrived around 10am, picked R and K up from R's apartment and drove over to Rooster for brunch. Rooster! So FUN and So Delicious! If you live in St. Louis, you don't need me to tell you about it, apparently most of the city had the same idea for Saturday brunch as we did. But, if you are visiting, please brave the lines and the family/cafeteria style seating for the Rooster experience. Their specialty is crepes and they do them fabulously with locally sourced ingredients. The breakfast menu was so enticing, I already have plans to return to try more of this amazing food! <br />
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After brunch, we took a leisurely stroll through Soulard Market. It was sparsely populated with vendors, a shadow of its warm weather self but it was an act of hope going there on such a grey and blustery day. Another "Don't miss" when visiting St. Louis. <br />
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With the weather being what it was: cold and grey. We opted for indoor entertainment to round out our afternoon. After reviewing all the free venues St. Louis has to offer, we chose the Science Center.<br />
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It had been years since we'd been to the Science Center. The last time, R, K and R were a more typical age, but I don't remember it being this much fun. Everyone played with the hands-on exhibits:<br />
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Enjoyed the overpass: </div>
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and obliged me with some photo-ops:<br />
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After a few hours, we noticed that the snow coming down was heavier and so we decided to grab a quick early dinner and get on the road home. R recommended Tortillaria in the Central West End, for their happy hour. Our waiter was super attentive, the food was excellent and the happy hour prices were a great deal. <br />
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Just a short day's sampling of all St. Louis has to offer. If you haven't been in awhile, take your kids and enjoy a weekend. <br />
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<br />Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-75054756736426626772015-02-24T10:42:00.000-08:002017-06-12T16:49:59.661-07:00On Jung, Vero Beach and conquering our personal demons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The picture above was taken at Vero Beach, Florida when Rob and I were down in early February. I promised more details about our trip and the extensive dive training we underwent, but first I will digress. I came across this powerful quote this morning and had to dust off my Jungian psych knowledge to unpack it a bit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jung spoke of integration and welding all of the different elements of one's psyche into a cohesive whole individual who would be unswayed by emotional shocks and life's common upheavals. This quote speaks to the need for introspection in order to achieve that self knowledge and integration. Isn't that what we all long for, the equanimity to roll with it, to have such a sense of peace that the waves just smooth us out like the sandy beach? I had some introspective work to do when we were in Vero Beach. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'll admit that I came a bit undone during our dive training. I went in with a particular hang-up. Mask removal. Non-divers, hang with me here for a minute. Divers, cut me some slack. I KNOW it's a basic skill. It's an Open Water level skill. It's a skill I had never yet mastered. Here's some physiology behind why some people struggle with it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Mammalian Dive Reflex<br /><br />There are two cardiovascular reactions that occur with submersion in water. The first is vasoconstriction, or narrowing of blood vessels which effectively reduces the flow of blood to "non-essential" organs, such as the limbs and reserving it for essential organs such as the brain. The second is bradycardia or a slowing of the heart rate. For this effect to occur, the face simply needs to be wet, one does not have to fully submerged. In the average diver, the heart rate may be reduced by 30%. This reaction is worsened by cold water. The Nasobronchial reflex is another component of the Dive Reflex, the one that really tripped me up. This reflex is activated, again, by immersion of the head into cold water and results in immediate apnea (suppression of breathing), laryngospasm and brochoconstriction (closing of the airways).<br /><br />While the cardiovascular effects of the Dive Reflex are interesting and allow free divers to do their amazing deep dives, the nasobronchial aspect can make it challenging for scuba divers to learn to breathe underwater, especially when your mask is off, exposing your nose to the cold water. This was definitely true for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So, I managed to get through Open Water certification with my mask removal phobia fully intact, courtesy of training in 50 degree midwestern quarries. On our 40+ dives since, my focus has been, not on overcoming that phobia, but on KEEPING MY MASK ON! DUH! I knew, as we began looking at advancing our certs and moving forward with our dive training that this would be an issue that would come back to haunt me. I toyed around with the idea that my great fear of water in my face was from a past life experience or a near drowning experience as a child. Now, these were both my halfhearted attempts to make it an issue that was beyond my control, something about my psyche that was unalterable. I don't actually believe I had any near drowning childhood experiences, nor, as a side-note, do I believe I've lived any life but this one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I toyed as well with the idea of seeking some counseling. I took my mask and snorkel into the bathtub to practice. I joked that when I became an instructor I wouldn't teach mask removal skills but rather Mask Retention Skills. But I never did overcome that phobia, not by the time we left for Vero Beach. In fact, my anxiety levels were so high, that I had begun have heart palpitations. I was a mess. So, Rob and I got into the pool, with our full gear, and we practiced. We practiced all of our basic Open Water Skills and each time I had to take off my mask, or even let any of the COLD pool water into my mask, my airway would immediately close off and I was unable to breath from my regulator. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I knew what was going on. I knew that I had so much anxiety tied up in this one skill that I was allowing it to have a much more powerful effect that the simple physiological reflex could explain. So, I broke it down. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">First, I just took off my mask and took my regulator out and I put my face in the water. I swam around under water and got used to that sensation. Then, I put my regulator in, left my mask off and tried to lower my face into the water. That took some time but I was able to do it. Then, finally I took my mask in hand, submerged with regulator in, and put my mask on and cleared it. Having accomplished that, over a period of about 45 minutes, I felt like I had gained a lot of ground. But, the anxiety remained. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Over the course of two weeks, we did a lot of diving and I did a little bit of mask work. I was gaining some comfort and had learned that by forcefully exhaling through my nose when my mask was off, I could circumvent the laryngospasm. But, it was still a high anxiety task for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The end of the course began to loom ahead of me, for in order to pass our Divemaster course, Rob and I would have to perform the infamous "complete underwater gear exchange". This involves just what it says, Rob was to don my gear, me his, and underwater, while sharing one source of air, we would exchange everything, snorkel, BC, and...mask. Two days before our testing date, we were back in the pool and decided to practice the gear exchange. By the end of that session, which I cut short, I was in tears, truly believing that this was something that was beyond my skill level. My anxiety was compounded by knowing how my performance would affect Rob. We were dive buddies. We Both had to get this right and be able to do it well. The next day was a full day of classroom and it was dark and cold by the time class let out. Rob and I had been planning to get into the pool but I just could not make myself do it. I know that I was in avoidance mode. Of course I was! But I didn't have the self discipline to go out there in the cold, dark water and practice my dreaded mask skills. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I lay in bed that night. I began practicing a psychological tool that I'd learned years ago for coping with pain, fear or anxiety. Tapping. I knew that most of the remaining issue was anxiety. It was a mind game. So, I tapped on the EFT points and, feeling as foolish as I always do when I'm using tapping, I repeated the EFT phrase: Even though I am anxious about removing my mask, I completely accept myself. I did several rounds. And then I fell asleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The next day, we rocked it out. You can watch video of our gear exchange <a href="https://www.facebook.com/parrotfishdiveresort?ref=hl" target="_blank">here</a>, on our Facebook page. We are back home, our new cert cards in hand, tans fading. My heart palpitations are gone, not a hint of one since the skill demonstration. I feel like I learned so much more than the syllabus had outlined. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mask removal was my own personal demon. I let it have that power. It took every tool that I had at my disposal to overcome it: a cognitive approach to understanding the physiology, personal introspection, understanding of a supportive partner, tips from skilled instructors, exposure therapy, tears, avoidance and tapping. And this, such a small thing! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We all have them: those things that plague us, that haunt our dreams, the anxieties that we have allowed to grow rather than face head on. I knew that I would have to overcome this "hang up" in order to embrace the many adventures that lie ahead for us in the arena of diving. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">P.S. If you are interested in EFT, you can find plenty of free demonstration videos online. </span>Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-21469733818181559332015-02-21T07:11:00.000-08:002015-02-21T07:32:40.123-08:00Intentions<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0PaFw7g2IiuW3JgN6xvYF7Rnxhluon7wP16s0F0SgH7Jqn5o8bS3iC-xh6VqR3TVQHYv3fbb6W9De67-pWA4zPz_cf9NPOBa3Etaw7QRphcL-CK9RwO2j3JL9zOVffkQOb8T-NzS86hk/s1600/Create+a+life.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0PaFw7g2IiuW3JgN6xvYF7Rnxhluon7wP16s0F0SgH7Jqn5o8bS3iC-xh6VqR3TVQHYv3fbb6W9De67-pWA4zPz_cf9NPOBa3Etaw7QRphcL-CK9RwO2j3JL9zOVffkQOb8T-NzS86hk/s1600/Create+a+life.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0PaFw7g2IiuW3JgN6xvYF7Rnxhluon7wP16s0F0SgH7Jqn5o8bS3iC-xh6VqR3TVQHYv3fbb6W9De67-pWA4zPz_cf9NPOBa3Etaw7QRphcL-CK9RwO2j3JL9zOVffkQOb8T-NzS86hk/s1600/Create+a+life.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0PaFw7g2IiuW3JgN6xvYF7Rnxhluon7wP16s0F0SgH7Jqn5o8bS3iC-xh6VqR3TVQHYv3fbb6W9De67-pWA4zPz_cf9NPOBa3Etaw7QRphcL-CK9RwO2j3JL9zOVffkQOb8T-NzS86hk/s1600/Create+a+life.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0PaFw7g2IiuW3JgN6xvYF7Rnxhluon7wP16s0F0SgH7Jqn5o8bS3iC-xh6VqR3TVQHYv3fbb6W9De67-pWA4zPz_cf9NPOBa3Etaw7QRphcL-CK9RwO2j3JL9zOVffkQOb8T-NzS86hk/s1600/Create+a+life.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0PaFw7g2IiuW3JgN6xvYF7Rnxhluon7wP16s0F0SgH7Jqn5o8bS3iC-xh6VqR3TVQHYv3fbb6W9De67-pWA4zPz_cf9NPOBa3Etaw7QRphcL-CK9RwO2j3JL9zOVffkQOb8T-NzS86hk/s1600/Create+a+life.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0PaFw7g2IiuW3JgN6xvYF7Rnxhluon7wP16s0F0SgH7Jqn5o8bS3iC-xh6VqR3TVQHYv3fbb6W9De67-pWA4zPz_cf9NPOBa3Etaw7QRphcL-CK9RwO2j3JL9zOVffkQOb8T-NzS86hk/s1600/Create+a+life.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-19892945080730840622014-12-03T12:35:00.001-08:002017-06-12T19:45:44.839-07:00Shout out<div dir="ltr">
When was the last time that you complimented someone on their actions or behavior rather than their appearance? </div>
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When was the last time you received a genuine compliment of this kind? How did it make you feel? </div>
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Explore this with me for a moment. We make and receive compliments all the time, but how often are they meaningful? </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice hair!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<i>Cute dress</i>. <br />
<i>Love those boots</i><i>! </i><br />
<i>You look great today</i>. <br />
Wow, y<i>ou have beautiful eyes</i>! </div>
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These are nice to get. Nice to give. They are easy. And rather meaningless. Think about what they emphasize... Something we all bemoan about our society. It's emphasis on appearance. A compliment on your footwear? Really just says something about the complimenter.... She likes the same boots you like. A compliment about eye color? Something we have no control over! </div>
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But, a genuine compliment about an action or behavior.... That can have lasting impact. </div>
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I am sitting here thinking of the times I've been genuinely complimented on an action or behavior. I remember some of them so vividly, even from years past. But the memories are scarce. </div>
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Here's one: nursing school. ACK! It's awful, friends. Avoid it if you can. It's 2-4 years of curriculum that makes you doubt yourself in every way. But I had a gem of an experience with one instructor and I recall an incident during clinical one day. We were calculating medication doses or IV drip rates or some such and she asked me what dose I should give. I was, somehow, able to answer her right away. She stopped and put her hand on my arm and told me she was so impressed because though it was not a difficult calculation, the ability to figure it out on the fly, in a stressful real life situation isn't quickly gained by nursing students. I was the only one to accomplish it that day. Now, if you know my math skills, you'll be as surprised by this story as I was. But it had such an impact on my confidence level! And clearly, I remember it many years later. </div>
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Why don't we do more of this? </div>
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I'm am challenging myself to look for opportunities to compliment people on their actions and behaviors. There are plenty of times I could. Times, like this morning when I was on the phone with "Rick" the computer support guy at the hospital. He was kind, patient, helpful and efficient. He remembered me from prior calls and didn't make me feel stupid or inferior. I was impressed. I thanked him for his help but failed to fairly compliment him for what was an unusually pleasant tech support experience. So, belatedly, here's a shout out to Rick. Dude, you did your job so well, and I know I caught you just as you were leaving for lunch, but I appreciate your patience and your efficiency. </div>
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Think of a time when you've been genuinely complimented for your work, or for your kindness, or for a particular skill that you have worked hard to perfect. Think how that compliment left you with a glowing feeling that lasted all day. Think about how formative these types of interactions could be if we made a point to catch people at their very best and let them know we noticed. </div>
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Imagine the implications at work, </div>
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or with your kids or partner.</div>
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So, I'm going to try. And I'd love it if you would try along with me. Let's notice the good and call it out. </div>
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Thank you for reading to the end of this post! Not everyone does, and I really appreciate you! Now, take a moment and leave a comment. </div>
Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-9140437930920807962014-10-26T18:28:00.000-07:002017-06-12T16:52:00.457-07:00Caving in Maquoketa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h2>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">October days draw you into the outdoors</span></h2>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maquoketa Caves State Park</td></tr>
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It was an overcast Sunday. Rob was home, a rare weekend off, and we had R and A, our favorite co-adventurers. We headed out with a picnic lunch to do some hiking and low-key spelunking at the Maquoketa Caves. I need a day in the woods every so often. It recharges my spirit like nothing else can. These views, large and small scale, help to calm my mind, to bring my attention into the present. <br />
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The state park, located just north of Maquoketa, Iowa is replete with limestone bluffs, beautiful rock formations, hiking trails and a fascinating collection of caves. Admission to the park is free. They have park rangers available to give you a brief orientation to the park and educate you about "White Nose Syndrome" a disease which is fatal to bats that inhabit the caves. So far, this disease has not made its way to the Maquoketa caves. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancehall cave. </td></tr>
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The kiddos were in rare posing form, so I took full advantage. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caving + water....oooh, I see cave-diving in your future, Rob! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the spider. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Intense focus. I'll let him lead. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anyone who is this happy in such a tight spot should be a professional. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3epK0dOyZW0zTju2vu9H8AgCUdhHSZVzZLN64mrhqTSbWLTdZc6SyeIC___9DIHfyzB7Bhc4GYTk2jCitUJp2YFJSPy4hvIeQ7ALZQfYx4zFN4_yfjMnASR8D7WkJgFCAmlfJjCkJt6X/s1600/IMG_8603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3epK0dOyZW0zTju2vu9H8AgCUdhHSZVzZLN64mrhqTSbWLTdZc6SyeIC___9DIHfyzB7Bhc4GYTk2jCitUJp2YFJSPy4hvIeQ7ALZQfYx4zFN4_yfjMnASR8D7WkJgFCAmlfJjCkJt6X/s1600/IMG_8603.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how much he loves me....there were spiders in those caves!</td></tr>
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We made our expedition the second weekend of October. The park is closed over the winter and will re-open in the spring. Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-65577139665064344092014-08-14T17:15:00.000-07:002017-06-12T19:44:14.298-07:00Maine and Rhode Island: in pictures<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVTVUmRhsKLz2igGparh9QPi_2An-3UkhlYoun7H2OTVEjQDgZGDB-rU0DZQ3kN3xWwWmhSK0zMzqnTVUflxh8G1BClhZEDl36smgfJyAWGA00NIKt7kGwr2ZMXcNzql60iSTOEyHnRn0/s640/20140806_120832.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet little cabin in the woods. Southport.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm0OJLx1F7w_YpVlhNZQPno5PDs0Q6P-90rJ_692z2wPaJUc69yXB54zNdjgge_MhtXCX6t0C2i_xloJqGi4e_7_9NwWbsRD2gHDpMBE3C0eTUr2JX0Sp5t9wJGB2b9WvUccfa0Mp4Ong3/s640/20140806_142429.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking near Boothbay Harbor, Maine.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYAQowIxHve3bVk4QHFCrREhCz1kqiHgnQP7kgok06il7LLhBonY6b5ql0MLm1EXvykDuiiGQOWsis6V2VyEz6efkwLdjd2mn6kM01d0F-Gd16Rt6j4gdznzTO-niIaGpdoBXiWESc2e46/s640/20140810_173716-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">K. Ocean Drive. Newport, R.I.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLpgJ7BWC-7KF52svcwz6OqN_E9k87f3PLltDZ7l1bOBYWLJOw0hkt251NO_GPyRGDlQJXPp8CE4pz_VMsau3w27cSEC1q1rX2WR4LR6V6Q07zFegWIJB2YvMpYePowynwm9kt607gW49/s640/20140806_162040.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pemaquid Point lighthouse beacon.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJDb9R8odpJXP26gEqKb38Ogg8X8_hBAKM43cy3gri0C0VKUkXUfXd7otMy8GecaCvAh3Tvlxsd4gx-3XpV6ZLO9VUwgVFD9hbdQkP0kgc6aU6f10QbrCwuCP-1ZJlhVb92_s9OETNTND/s640/20140809_202848.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waterfire 2014. Providence. R.I. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYcVX5Qz7XzzdJzoRWnLjpZmgHxUytuwe2AGcI-56M4xuuMQOeLFUh3ScskWWUa015cblqnrqBzVNQEQbDQLfVaDfEvAB3XLjIhCN9mPbiQCwE-Rn5WNwEGEoraxyEg6a7dVgewNivzX6/s640/20140809_174233.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sibling love in Bristol. R.I.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASYORWUYH-9TTjeZyQmQqTrO6hLMgTWVkgrodWzBgLMDmtVjVenGDCKpCf8jDPPjmIZjh5D1CH9FHSapU31ixHE-zmVLwEtLAIibNJQlXe5w3LcUdHqmkAOhIHZuZ31UzVWJ1BLmVqy02/s640/20140809_203430.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family photo! Waterfire. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7v5gK3USbMv0FSLQtUKoSGieX3UswAuleD_1jZkDn6Ql5xJL_olroWSAYTThLltXZwTYaFxbtvrKvhTb6nY7weT0xbnbNSrXSI_u2OQbGzsC3WXg4VUA_8FLGaKnX6x6Q-kto7Jb0A5-j/s640/20140810_171333.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family photo. Ocean Drive. Newport. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIO9-NLZFprz98JiWyq3uFKVG0rQIF1396z3M7dbXuAjuNEKLDvPQDXsXZvq0TEv-e___fpuVi-nfTd9FHOEYoJtgT38BXbkcU_cD9guRnPEx1WeLZ9wPwb258Gz5qbvBzjiZx8-Lcnsx/s640/20140808_155745.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Persimmon! Reid State Park, Maine.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living statue. Waterfire.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">R. Crabbing.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NCnv_iLRraQqyRF7lrQlvfZUDUzjDen_wr3BhTKIJuDGbtLUCB0jsLTIu1obnjRdJ9N5JVa1LGV1uUSyvQcFRcZZuf1nYvlI9FPdTT7Rkt9Pfo40uKKeL0RwyCQ7yeDHIeZjH2OUp1O4/s1600/20140808_152154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">R. Posing. Ocean Drive. R.I.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6LkGfUx1TVcMZJPjLurqTB_wiuZyYOIQgrD2VNXVgNZnNV6UXYuBPn9prJFnRJEVNOZokFLQtFqA0l4jQ9k50UbQ_X7uwIhOazG4tdynU0mJ6Ng95Ap3u7-fAezQjcW8QrbgKcDMyy7s/s1600/20140810_171721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a postcard! Pemaquid Point Lighthouse. Maine.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wQ7EF-yMrqbIWdVSj6ZenYZuyf2n-xhN1M6UA8stKduoGDYN5JLEUqhU-Pbx1Hk7FCBdbZgLNr6PGQdX5IFYOVFQR4PcmWZI20a6o30B5MlQZ9U8v0rdMuEEXsgGbsqSLwG7EW0M9hE9/s1600/20140806_163016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a> </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQl8fOjAeuFru8RfbtYWmlbiZwDWKjvMeCGdQTx8xCuyNoGndF3ZAPmJ5IRj_qUV0apfAZA3u6tua2Nng3OQDI3GqRqz4cbAdadZhZKn-W1NJ3nMgv3xZ8qNkbmhjE8uOLqevy-0epAu0j/s640/20140807_154755.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Must try the financiers! Portland, Maine.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQl8fOjAeuFru8RfbtYWmlbiZwDWKjvMeCGdQTx8xCuyNoGndF3ZAPmJ5IRj_qUV0apfAZA3u6tua2Nng3OQDI3GqRqz4cbAdadZhZKn-W1NJ3nMgv3xZ8qNkbmhjE8uOLqevy-0epAu0j/s1600/20140807_154755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love family!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy-daughter love. Bristol. R.I.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy-daughter selfie!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-32117673056312532852014-06-29T10:42:00.000-07:002019-02-07T08:16:23.602-08:00DIY Wedding<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Simplify your Wedding Planning</h2>
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Spend less - Have more Fun!</h3>
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Do it Yourself!</h3>
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Having just planned and pulled off my own, albeit small wedding in two weeks time, I thought I'd share some of the things I did, and learned that helped keep me focused, saved money and made our day, June 21st, the most perfect day ever. </div>
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<b>Choose your venue:</b> Do you need a church wedding? I didn't. This made it possible to schedule our big day on short notice. If you do, or if you must have a highly sought after venue for your wedding or reception, you will need a year or more advance notice. Planning a small outdoor wedding cuts that dramatically. In our case, we didn't even rent a park pavilion. We chose a spot on the river that had easy parking for our guests, a good backdrop for photos and was meaningful to us. </div>
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<b>Find an officiant:</b> Do you need a church wedding? Are you ok with a trip to the courthouse? Do you have a friend who is ordained? How about a family member or friend who'd be willing to get ordained? We asked Rob's dad if he would do the honor of marrying us. It took less than an hour to complete the application process online. The Universal Life Church is recognized in most states and will ordain you for under $20. Check with your state to be certain that a ceremony conducted by your chosen officiant will be valid. </div>
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<b>Get Organized: </b>Two weeks is not much time. Make lists. Update them daily. Crosscheck them with your fiance. Crosscheck them with your best friend. I used GoogleKeep and absolutely fell IN LOVE with this free app. It is my new fave organizational tool. </div>
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<b>Have someone to Vent to: </b>My someone was my best ever friend. Though she lives far away and couldn't be hands-on with the help, I couldn't have done it without her. She kept me focused and brought so many fun ideas into reality. We talked on several occasions over the two weeks. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Sf_5eblMn4dsd7h2ZzpRRIyLAi4kvRUFDLk4v90DJ0YKHYsv32yWxqjfkp3oVQh22o6qjrWQW1xLZXo-enloEWF_-btrtUV67QrszCukROjzMssL8yufjCha5Lt79BMXpLwd0UM0Q4P7/s1600/Wedding+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Sf_5eblMn4dsd7h2ZzpRRIyLAi4kvRUFDLk4v90DJ0YKHYsv32yWxqjfkp3oVQh22o6qjrWQW1xLZXo-enloEWF_-btrtUV67QrszCukROjzMssL8yufjCha5Lt79BMXpLwd0UM0Q4P7/s1600/Wedding+-+1" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Kit</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<b>Consider your "Must Haves":</b> Are professional flowers important to you? Music? Embossed invitations? A traditional gown? A reception with all the trappings: DJ, catered food, table decor? A professional and classic wedding cake? Photos? </div>
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We pared down our Must Have list to these things: friends and family that are dear to us, clothing that paid homage to the specialness of the occasion without being too expensive, photos, a fun and relaxed reception, a cake that looked pretty and tasted fabulous. </div>
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We skipped the formal invites. Two weeks plan time leaves no room for snail mail or the time it takes to order invitations. I used an online e-vite for more distant friends. Some will let you send up to 10 invitations for free to sample their service. I printed a flyer that I hung at the office to invite coworkers to the reception, and phoned an invite to close friends and family. </div>
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I found a fun and inexpensive dress at a local boutique: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/UrbanFarmhouseGeneseo" target="_blank">Urban Farmhouse</a> in Geneseo for $47. Zappos got my fabulous shoes to me overnight with free shipping. Rob was thrilled that I chose jeans, cowboy boots and dress shirt/vest combination for him. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKl8NAzMVXDqfZOHd4LDawSzNAR81WDftPaeZm8gPjjWbS0EHHH7l1TGk9hcXc8bi17rbN9rIRokrarEgrB0xWRb1w29O9bvRzvZ9yFo8fkcZ-mReOk_1-HJZW2PH4Pv-07WBZQbI_GLq6/s1600/Wedding+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKl8NAzMVXDqfZOHd4LDawSzNAR81WDftPaeZm8gPjjWbS0EHHH7l1TGk9hcXc8bi17rbN9rIRokrarEgrB0xWRb1w29O9bvRzvZ9yFo8fkcZ-mReOk_1-HJZW2PH4Pv-07WBZQbI_GLq6/s1600/Wedding+-+1" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See why they call it Ol' Muddy?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The day of the ceremony, my awesome hairdresser, Fran, artist extraordinaire and owner of the fabulous <a href="http://yoursuitehair.com/" target="_blank">Your Suite Hair</a> took this picture: <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3K11a7YMjw/U7BcC2PKofI/AAAAAAAAFUs/DMHA6F12s5E/s1600/14+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3K11a7YMjw/U7BcC2PKofI/AAAAAAAAFUs/DMHA6F12s5E/s1600/14+-+1" /></a></div>
And made my hair look like this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOPOSHg_YC7Ec-vcPypslUDpFcyjBMlXfOIshAFpv_TuRaqc0MLFFAtNH0u73CC6EFcgoY0_HPUVeBhb3WqcRbLmZvna_6WfUbWfyJ9Kt3Lna1ND2Dx-mrFtaur5JvYO6MURjTmbvitJM/s1600/IMG_8252+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOPOSHg_YC7Ec-vcPypslUDpFcyjBMlXfOIshAFpv_TuRaqc0MLFFAtNH0u73CC6EFcgoY0_HPUVeBhb3WqcRbLmZvna_6WfUbWfyJ9Kt3Lna1ND2Dx-mrFtaur5JvYO6MURjTmbvitJM/s1600/IMG_8252+(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't know my hair could do this!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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We were able to fit a really fun engagement shoot into the two weeks leading up to the wedding. Choose an up and coming photographer to get the best deal on a shoot. Ask around until you find one who includes print rights and will give you a jump drive that you can take to any photo print shop and print your own. Cassandra at <a href="http://www.oh-snap-photography.com/" target="_blank">Oh Snap Photography</a> was so much fun to work with and made us look better than real life!<br />
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For the ceremony, we really didn't want a professional wedding photographer. Just the words alone are expensive. We asked around and found a friend with a sister, lol. Shauna came to the house before the ceremony, snapped some fun "getting ready" shots, followed us down to the river, and then came back to the house to get some pictures of the reception. She is an amateur photographer with a nice DSLR camera and she charged us an outrageously cheap price for the time that she spent. I haven't seen her pictures yet, but I already know she'll be getting a tip from this happy bride.<br />
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As I mentioned <a href="http://thisishowwelivenow.blogspot.com/2014/06/who-says-it-takes-more-than-two-weeks.html" target="_blank">previously</a>, I outsourced the cake in a similar fashion. You don't know who you know until you start asking. We found a friend of a friend who does cakes. After a few days of texting back and forth we settled on a non-traditional cake. I used a pretty three tiered cake stand that I already owned and she made three different cakes: Traditional white with buttercream icing, Gluten free German chocolate and a flourless chocolate cake that is "to die for". Find the recipe for La Bete Noir <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/La-Bete-Noire-235831" target="_blank">here</a>. I was so pleased with the finished product! <br />
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Food was a challenge. And I love a challenge! We spent the Friday evening before the reception roasting potatoes and vegetables and threading steak, shrimp and brat bites onto skewers. I had Rob's family and the kids helping and we made short work of it. I made tomato, pepperoni and mozzarella ball appetizers which looked adorable on little bamboo skewers. The next day they would be drenched in a jarred pesto sauce. They were a huge hit! I made a chimichurri sauce and a rosemary, garlic dipping sauce the morning of the wedding and my daughter K, made an old classic appetizer, Zucchini Carpaccio. I'll post recipes soon! After the ceremony, we warmed up the potatoes and veggies, set the skewered meat out on ice, boiled the corn and fired up the grill!<br />
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For flowers, this is what I decided. HyVee. White daisies. Done.<br />
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My sister rocked out our decorations for us. She is such a creative genius. I had gathered some random items together: old glass bottles, and glass serving dishes, mini chalkboards, mason jars and tea lights, some ribbon, some antique suitcases, aviation maps and some bits of burlap. Here is the before picture:<br />
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She did some of this: </div>
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And this:</div>
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And made everything look exactly how I envisioned it. I love her!</div>
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I will post some of the professional photos of the ceremony and reception soon! <br />
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If you are up for planning a DIY Wedding, I encourage you to go for it! Our wedding day was so much fun. Doing it ourselves, we had things exactly the way we wanted them and at a price point that we were comfortable with.<br />
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If you are even a little creative and handy in the kitchen a small to medium sized reception is very doable with just a few handy prep cooks and decorators helping out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my team of "prep cooks"! Love them!!!</td></tr>
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The most important thing to keep in mind is that it is a day you should remember as being fun, not stressful. So, do your advance planning, stay within your budget and your skill-level and have fun planning your wedding!<br />
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<br />Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-326074506030773002014-06-28T20:52:00.001-07:002018-03-14T08:17:05.578-07:00Aruba: One Happy Island 2/2014<br />
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Aruba Dive Trip 2014</h2>
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Pristine white beaches. A reputation of being the island most frequently returned to, year after year, by happy vacationers. Easy to reach by air in the time frame we needed to travel, and surrounded by wrecks renowned for diving. For all these reasons, we made Aruba our dive destination this past February. Our experience on the island was that of frugal divers and not your typical beach seeking tourists. We rented a villa off the main hotel strip, opted for renting bikes instead of a car to get around, and sought meals that were inexpensive, choosing instead to spend our money on underwater adventure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexksl9BPxDN-N66SYFWvV9BjilKo2TclZoa69kO-0NtJZIsiH3O-6zXg1Mz-ZsW_ChScj7Iu2sDi-LF95zTHTTPSvXQirbgK3Z3R5WAJoB_QPh_KPJ3e-YOsMNWCGm3L0zpXtTgoMcKVd/s1600/aruba+dive+go+pro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexksl9BPxDN-N66SYFWvV9BjilKo2TclZoa69kO-0NtJZIsiH3O-6zXg1Mz-ZsW_ChScj7Iu2sDi-LF95zTHTTPSvXQirbgK3Z3R5WAJoB_QPh_KPJ3e-YOsMNWCGm3L0zpXtTgoMcKVd/s1600/aruba+dive+go+pro.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.scubadivers-aruba.com/" target="_blank">Mermaid Dive Center,</a> feels like a family run operation, small but professional. They picked us up from our villa both days, in a beat up old passenger van and took us to the shop in time to sign paperwork and size our rental gear. The second day, I needed a full wet suit for the cold water temperature and was provided this at no extra charge. The divemasters took a personal interest in helping their customers improve their diving skills even on a routine recreational dive. With temperatures uncharacteristically cold for Aruba, I spent the first day shivering in my skin suit and 3mm shortie, meanwhile blowing through my air in record time. Carlos took me aside and gave me some tips to improve my air consumption. Although I was greatly improved on day two, I actually credit the full 6mm wet suit rather than any improvement in air management skill.<br />
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We did three dives each day. The Antilla on day one was our first wreck dive. We had a long surface interval after that dive, as we came across a couple who had capsized their sailboat and ended up towing them to shore. Water temperatures were 76 degrees at depth, and by the third dive, on Isla Bonita Reef, (see above picture) I was so cold that I had to surface early. Vercazio, our divemaster, found a cute octopus who was willing to participate in a photo shoot with the group. Some of us were less willing participants!<br />
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As you can see, visibility was not good, 30 foot at best. Although the divemasters noted that temperatures were unnaturally cold, they made no mention of the viz being worse than normal. As all of our dive sites were close to shore, I'm not surprised that it was so bad.<br />
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Day two brought a new depth record of 98 feet as we dove the J/C wreck. Penetrating the structure was an exhilarating experience. Wendy, one of the owners, was our divemaster and she made the experience so much fun, making sure we had plenty of photo ops near the prop of the ship.<br />
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We completed day two on Plonco Reef and Skalahein Reef, where the corol and wildlife were more plentiful than the deep dive earlier in the day, but visibility and water temps were ongoing struggles.<br />
Read what I learned about dive buddy communication on that last dive here: <a href="http://www.thisishowwelivenow.blogspot.com/2014/03/scuba-life-lessons.html">http://www.thisishowwelivenow.blogspot.com/2014/03/scuba-life-lessons.html</a><br />
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The hotel strip was good for a photo op, but not much more!<br />
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We lucked out with our villa: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CostaEsmeraldaVillage" target="_blank">La Costa Esmerelda Village</a> which had just opened when we stayed there. If we ever return, my guess is that it will be out of our price range. The owner had a "manager" who worked next door at an exclusive restaurant. They met us at the gate of the villa at our agreed upon arrival time and we exchanged pleasantries and a modicum of actual useful information for navigating the island without phone service (we had failed to add international service onto our plan before the trip) or transportation. The owner's son, a polite young man in his early teens acted as translator to the best of his ability. In truth, once we left the villa and ventured out onto the island, we had no trouble communicating. The rule seems to be that most islanders speak 4 or 5 languages. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were fresh flowers and fruit in the room upon our arrival.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pool glowed at night. </td></tr>
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For divers, the location was perfect, we had room in the courtyard by the pool to hang our equipment after rinsing it at the outdoor shower.<br />
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Rob and Jon are busy rinsing our gear while I am inside making a frugal yet fantastic meal. Details just ahead!<br />
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On previous dive trips, we've struggled to get our gear dry before our return trip home. Being able to hang everything outdoors in the secure courtyard was perfect! And the grounds were simply gorgeous. Each morning several groundskeepers/housekeepers made the rounds watering and caring for the extensive foliage surrounding the pools, brick walkways and patios.<br />
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There were several supermarkets within walking distance of the villa. We stocked up on fresh mangoes, the likes of which you will never taste in the states: the smell alone was rich and lush. I spent about ten minutes perusing the aisles looking for the makings of a meal and came up with an old pantry standby that I haven't made for years: Tuna Croquettes. Hey! Give me bonus points for incorporating seafood while on the island!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheat eats!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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There's no actual recipe, so you can't go wrong: tuna, some kind of bread or cracker crumb, egg, and additional flavoring ingredients. I used carrot, red onion and capers, sauteed in copious amounts of butter. Peasant food, yes, but after a day of diving, we were ravenous and they tasted wonderful! <br />
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We didn't eat every meal in the villa. The first night on Aruba we walked down to <a href="http://www.theoldcunucuhouse.com/" target="_blank">The Old Cocuno House</a><br />
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Where we had a lovely outdoor meal, enjoyed our first of several Balashi beers, </div>
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discovered that on Aruba, </div>
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the beers are miniature sized, unless you order the extra large. </div>
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We enjoyed the many avian visitors </div>
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As well as the classic Arubian food.</div>
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Rob had the Keeshi Yena, pictured above. It was decadent. I had the cod fish Grand Ma style, which turned out to be a salty mash of cod and vegetables. Get the Keeshi Yena! <br />
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Both the waitress, Jasmine and the manager, Cory, were solicitous. They even looked up the phone number of Red Sail Sports, the bike rental shop, and let us use the restaurant phone to place a call. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVPs5SPLLlDE5G-EuYPGtetF7LRLnIubCcOi8pyu6ailz_XSmh62i5O_M4ucdW7jSqpDUfg9EAeVgSzfsd2mr28do21ku6Imk4Kk2YhmNCKIAFIRWu7OAGCAp4vwKj-y-wkz_SlgGSkXa/s1600/IMG_7967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVPs5SPLLlDE5G-EuYPGtetF7LRLnIubCcOi8pyu6ailz_XSmh62i5O_M4ucdW7jSqpDUfg9EAeVgSzfsd2mr28do21ku6Imk4Kk2YhmNCKIAFIRWu7OAGCAp4vwKj-y-wkz_SlgGSkXa/s1600/IMG_7967.JPG" width="320" /></a>The bikes were integral to the last few days of our trip. We had made arrangements to pick up them up after our first day of diving. A long walk down to the hotel zone and along the beach finally brought us to the rental cabana. We donned our helmets and took off across the island to visit the Harley Davidson store. And we encountered the ferocity of the winds of Aruba. Didn't seem to matter which direction we rode, it was always into the wind!<br />
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After navigating the island on beach bikes for three days, our collective advice to future visitors is this: rent a car! Bike lanes were non-existent; we were lucky to have a shoulder. Many of our routes had us riding on highways and making our way through traffic circles. We saw very few other cyclists and came to the conclusion that the island is just not well suited to road biking. We toughed it out, even surviving a blow-out on the last day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulGoEbT6fUKiCrXBtcFNUzfl513iaSqlS-Ig-romZQQXwhj4lwPJBrUPpUenT0VXcs8aKzoeiaNWvMcTM1XDoap-cx1BZUg4QlVWiRxMmQV6pto6E9bPRu3F8hngTdw-lukr0wsQM1EV-/s1600/IMG_7930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulGoEbT6fUKiCrXBtcFNUzfl513iaSqlS-Ig-romZQQXwhj4lwPJBrUPpUenT0VXcs8aKzoeiaNWvMcTM1XDoap-cx1BZUg4QlVWiRxMmQV6pto6E9bPRu3F8hngTdw-lukr0wsQM1EV-/s1600/IMG_7930.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsvUb6u_W3AUigVfBjtNgMUQb7Ojq3filbnch5KPq6zG2_rgmeaYPuZ1neMF7m2h8VuG7kgbhPPz93r8JzfVDNE0GIuDUjk2fdhQDcdytT28n4yW3nFXL7zYLRd2B_ZnVbWtprAeHxb2m/s1600/IMG_7929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsvUb6u_W3AUigVfBjtNgMUQb7Ojq3filbnch5KPq6zG2_rgmeaYPuZ1neMF7m2h8VuG7kgbhPPz93r8JzfVDNE0GIuDUjk2fdhQDcdytT28n4yW3nFXL7zYLRd2B_ZnVbWtprAeHxb2m/s1600/IMG_7929.JPG" width="200" /></a>Calling Red Sail Sports to come rescue us! They arrived, replaced the tire and had us back on our way within 20 minutes! For a shop that specializes in diving, and para sailing, they did a great job with bike rental for us. <br />
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A Scenic overlook we stopped at on our day-long bike trip.</div>
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Continuing our ride, we stopped again to hydrate and rest in the shade: three divers out in the desert heat, wondering if the destination we'd chosen was truly worth it!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What's that coming into view?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Worth it!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not too tired for a photo</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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We ended our bike tour of the island with a late lunch at Reef and Beef, where they really love their chalk boards! </div>
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The daily specials were good, we each tried one of what they had remaining from their lunch rush. The Carni Stoba, Chicken Sate and Grouper Creole. Service was slow. It almost seemed like everyone was on break or that the restaurant was not actually open. But, the food was good. I haven't yet "liked" them on Facebook as requested, though I do admire their chalk board enthusiasm.<br />
They are located in the courtyard adjacent to Aqua Windies Dive Shop, purportedly the biggest on the island. A sign offers discounts at Beef and Reef to divers, but does not include the daily specials, as they "are already on special" according to the owner, who served us himself. <br />
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All too soon, our short visit to Aruba: One Happy Island, was ending. We packed our gear, called a taxi and headed to the airport. We were welcomed by crowds of fellow travelers. Yikes! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PxfqY0LcIuM/U69cWVn4rlI/AAAAAAAAFL8/ndnvMCtUhMM/s1600/Aruba+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PxfqY0LcIuM/U69cWVn4rlI/AAAAAAAAFL8/ndnvMCtUhMM/s1600/Aruba+-+1" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The line snaking out of the airport and wrapping around the parking lot</td></tr>
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I'm not sure if there is any airport more complicated for it's size than Queen Beatrix International Airport. Be forewarned: the instructions to arrive early are not a mere suggestion. You will pre-clear US customs when flying to the United States, so that is one explanation for the airport's complexity, but having to remove shoes twice for double security clearance, giving up your luggage and then reclaiming it only to check it once again...these things were unexpected and time consuming. Arrive early! Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-69043666273386373962014-06-14T19:40:00.000-07:002019-02-07T08:11:37.560-08:00Who says it takes more than two weeks to plan a wedding?<br />
So, we decided to do it. And we decided to do it in two weeks. That was last week. Now, the event is less than a week away.<br />
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<b>June 21, 2014</b></h4>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<b>The Summer Solstice</b></h4>
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<b>Rob & Rachel's Big Day </b></h4>
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When we got engaged a couple of months ago, we knew we'd be planning a small wedding, on short notice, given the constraints of Rob's job. Our first priority was securing a minister to make it official. Of course, we immediately thought of our best dive buddy and traveling companion, Rob's dad, Jon. We took him to lunch one afternoon and asked the favor. We were thrilled when he agreed to get ordained in order to marry us. Having accomplished that important task, neither of us did another thing to move toward the reality of planning a wedding, instead we debated the more esoteric details like, "<i>will she change her name</i>?" Until last week when we looked at our summer calendar and realized we needed to do this thing in June if we wanted our kids to be around to celebrate with us.<br />
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We began to phone our nearest and dearest to see if they'd be able to make the trip. Sadly, of course, our last minute plans precluded some from making the trip, but we began to make plans for housing out of town guests that agreed to plan a spontaneous road trip for our wedding. <br />
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Last Sunday, after mass and a soccer game, I found a lovely dress for a whopping $47, the very first thing I tried on. It was serendipitous to say the least, walking into the adorable little boutique Urban Farmhouse in Geneseo to visit the owner, a former student of mine. Upon hearing my news, she immediately went to the rack and pulled out: The Dress. And that was checked off my to-do list. That same day, Rob and I wrote our vows and I bought a case of wine on sale at Hyvee. I felt incredibly productive!<br />
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This week, we finalized the ceremony template and met with Jon over lunch again. We applied for our marriage license.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here we are at the Recorder's office</td></tr>
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We found Rob's wedding attire: yes, he's wearing jeans and boots and is one happy man! We decided on a location for our outdoor wedding, a special little spot on the river front that requires no advance reservation. And, we squeezed in a photo shoot last night.<br />
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In between those important details, I've been cleaning and cleaning, and, of course, getting excited about the little things, like making a new wreath for our door.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JyIJe8Oga6I/U50FrqQySoI/AAAAAAAAFBM/znRNkYZeWsc/s1600/14+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JyIJe8Oga6I/U50FrqQySoI/AAAAAAAAFBM/znRNkYZeWsc/s1600/14+-+1" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you say, sidetracked?</td></tr>
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The dogs got bathed, thanks to R. We found an amateur photographer to take some wedding photos on the cheap, thanks to our pal, Kris. I came across an amazing poem and coerced my good friend Tracey to read it at the ceremony. The kids all found wedding clothing and my best friend in the world, Krystal, has kept me sane on several occasions as we've debriefed over the phone. <br />
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Several different times over the course of the last week I've had minor
epiphanies that sound something like this, "oh my god, cake! I didn't
even think about cake! People will expect cake, right?" And yes, I was told, people will expect cake. And, it turns out, although Rob LOVES my Bete Noir cake, he is afraid that it too closely resembles a brownie and a brownie, even if it tastes like heaven, is just a bit too casual for a wedding. So, I outsourced my cake.<br />
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Rob is off on a trip, and I am child-less this Father's Day weekend. I'm in a fury of creative efficiency mixed in equal parts with mania: the perfect combination for planning a wedding in two weeks! I still need to figure out food and music. I have this picture in my head of a couple of live musicians strolling around at the ceremony and playing the wedding march, but, alas, that doesn't fit into my budget. And I'm secretly hoping to talk Rob out of "brats on the grill"as the mainstay of our reception food, but am stymied when I consider making anything else myself, and, doing anything that requires a caterer is getting less and less likely as we move closer to the event.<br />
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Still, I feel pretty good about my state of calm. I will not stress about our wedding. I look forward with eager anticipation to the day when we will join our lives. I am thrilled by the love I feel from friends and family who want to be a part of our day. I am a little giddy. I'm a little nervous. I'm a lot happy. <br />
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<br />Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-85577087653385920682014-03-28T20:06:00.000-07:002017-06-12T19:54:05.600-07:00Scuba life lessons<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dive Buddies through it all</td></tr>
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When we have limited information to work with, we often have to make assumptions. Divers are especially prone to making dangerous assumptions about their dive buddy because communication underwater can be so limited. Part of good communication is being able to see a given situation from your partner's point of view. If you can do this as a diver, your safety and the safety of your dive buddy will be improved.<br />
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The relationship you have with your dive buddy may be one of the most important relationships ever: certainly it is while you are at depth. If you are lucky, your travel partner is your dive buddy and you are evenly matched in skill and comfort level in the water. Some lone travelers pair up with a stranger from the dive boat: but no one goes without a buddy. The buddy system is paramount to diving safety and is emphasized in every dive training program, and reiterated in the dive briefing before every dive. Stay close to your buddy. What is unspoken is the message to communicate with your buddy. Staying close is no good if you are not watchful of each other, checking each others status and comfort and using body language and sign language to communicate needs, concerns or interests.<br />
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Rob has been my dive buddy from the beginning. I admit, he gets the short end of the stick when it comes to pairing up with me under water. He is a stronger swimmer, a more confident diver and uses his air much more efficiently than I do. But, I keep an eye on him. I check his gear before we enter the water. I try to stay out of his way so I don't inadvertently kick off his mask. I ask about his air level frequently, mostly to check it against my own as I deliberately slow my breaths and calm myself in the water to try to budget my air. As a rule, we are conscientious of each other and we work hard to stay in close proximity and maintain good communication. <br />
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On our last trip, we had our first dive buddy fight. Oh, it was bad. We were both so angry, we had an actual yelling fight later that evening. We had to go to our room and close the door so as not to embarrass his dad.<br />
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Conditions were ripe for a less than ideal diving experience: visibility was bad, only about 30 feet at it's best. And the current was strong. Our group was fairly large: ten divers and the dive master. When visibility is low, divers tend to stick closer together, so we were all feeling a bit crowed and getting agitated with each other. It seemed like every time I turned around there was someone running into me or I was getting finned in the face. Rob had the GoPro and was hanging toward the back of the group getting video. I had deliberately swum ahead to stay out of his way and then chose to maintain a depth about ten feet above the group to stay out of the crowd and also to conserve air. On several occasions as I stopped and did a 360 turn to locate Rob, I couldn't see him. I'd hover for a few moments, deliberating whether to swim back, against the current to try to find him and then he'd swim into view. What was he doing back there? I was getting angry at the way he was so obviously getting distracted with his camera and not staying with the group. Anytime I tried to actually stop so he could catch up to me, I'd drift away....the current was pretty stiff. At one point, he swam into view and then beckoned me to swim over to him: again, against the current. I shook my head and motioned for him to swim to me. I reasoned that it would be silly for me to go to him when he could more easily and with less energy/air consumption come my way just by drifting. He insisted, so I swam over, pissed off, assuming there was some pretty piece of coral he wanted to show me. But there wasn't. <br />
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As the dive ended and we began to ascend, we did our obligatory 15 foot safety stop, though we had not exceeded decompression limits. Then I signaled and made the final ascent to the surface. When I had surfaced and filled my BC, I looked around and Rob was nowhere in sight. I put my head back under and could barely see him but couldn't tell what he was doing. I knew he had plenty of air in his tank and because I was already angry at the way he had not observed good dive buddy behavior, I assumed he just wanted to keep diving.<br />
<br />
So, we had it out later, when we got back to our villa.<br />
<br />
"Thanks for being such a great dive buddy!"<br />
"Yeah, you too. What was with you not staying with the group?"<br />
"What? ME not staying with the group? What about you? I can't count the number of times you were out of sight. Meanwhile I was in the MIDDLE of the pack!"<br />
<br />
And so it went. And we were both so certain that our interpretation of what had gone wrong was the correct interpretation. I hadn't stayed close. He'd been distracted with the GoPro. Who was right?<br />
<br />
Rob insisted he was with the group the entire time. I insist that I was. Truth is: we were probably both WITH the group, but we weren't with each other. I put so much confidence in his diving ability, I never even considered that I was putting him at risk by swimming ahead to stay out of his way. I made sure I stayed close to the dive master so I felt that I wasn't risking myself in doing this. Rob feels certain the dive master communicated with him that he should make me stick closer with the group. My take on that: the dive master was actually telling him that he should stick with me. <br />
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After we both calmed down, we decided to turn the miserable dive into a learning experience. The dive, though not deep or technical, had it's challenges: it was crowded, visibility was poor and there was current. We added to those challenges by trying to get video with our new toy. We should have had a plan for how to incorporate the camera into our diving safely. We both know that a diver can easily get distracted when diving with a camera, but we hadn't talked about it further than me saying, "You take the camera, I have enough to deal with on my own." <br />
<br />
What we took home is a lesson applicable to life on the surface as well. We each experience the world from our own viewpoint. In order to understand each other, we need to broaden our vision: try to see the world through our partner's eyes. When we insist that our version is the only valid interpretation of events, we miss out on the chance to really connect with other people. When we react to situations based only on our viewpoint, we miss the opportunity to help other people. In diving and on dry land, we can live more peacefully, connect more fully with our partner and our dive buddy, and experience less anger if we can abandon our narrow-focus. <br />
<br />
Here's what I missed during that awful dive when I was so caught up in my own perspective: When we were surfacing and I assumed Rob had gone back down to continue the dive, he'd actually dropped the camera and had to go back down to retrieve it. I made an assumption, fueled by my interpretation of everything that had happened previously during our dive, things that I had let anger me, and I assumed the very worst: that he was just abandoning me. What if he had needed my help? I never even considered that. We ended that dive not speaking to each other, but we learned a valuable lesson that will improve our communication as life partners and our safety on future dives. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at us...how could we EVER argue?<br /></td></tr>
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Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-17689262660967986362013-10-23T16:33:00.002-07:002017-06-12T16:53:26.079-07:00The Great OutdoorsYesterday it snowed. Yep. October 22. Snowed enough to collect on the ground. So, there was some excitement. It went a little viral on fakebook. I get it. We don't usually see snow before Halloween in these parts, but, come on guys, it IS the Midwest. Let's all just take a deep breath.<br />
<br />
This morning the snow was gone. On my drive to work, the sun was at that perfect point in the sky to make the landscape just glow. The sky was a pale blue, the fields golden. It was absolute glory. It put me in mind of family car trips to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's. The feeling of anticipation: good food, sweets, an overheated house. The sleepy ride home with NPR on the radio, slumped against my sisters in the back seat. The murmur of my parent's voices just barely audible. <br />
<br />
Then again, this evening, leaving the office. It must just be the perfect time of year. The light was incredible. I wanted to grab a camera and stop along the road, capture those rolling farm fields with the barn in the distance, that lone black horse grazing. <br />
<br />
I feel nostalgic for The Great Outdoors. Or is it family that I'm nostalgic for? In any event, I need a little infusion of both. <br />
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Anyway, Happy Fall! Let's enjoy it before winter hits for real. </div>
<br />Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-57021461975539192902013-09-19T22:30:00.000-07:002017-06-12T19:47:59.184-07:00A "Furled" Brow<strong>2 hours and 47 minutes. </strong><br />
<br />
Sometimes I feel like I'm in high school. OK. Except for the parts that ache when I sit still too long....those don't feel like high school parts! <br />
<br />
But, sometimes, Rob and I sit on the phone for hours in the evening. Like tonight. Yikes! 2:47. He's sitting in Atlanta. I'm home. It's not as bad as it sounds, it's not like I'm curled up in bed, whispering under the blankets. I'm putzing around, he's on speaker, we are both multi-tasking, checking email, etc. Good thing we have unlimited minutes. <br />
<br />
So, he's reading this ridiculous article "Six Weird Things that Turn Her On", and asks, What is a Furled Brow? <br />
<br />
<div>
Background: I am a disgruntled, former English major. I know my words. Sometimes I mess up. And when I do, it's big and embarrassing. But, generally, I can tell whether a given word has been used correctly, or spelled correctly.</div>
<div>
"Do you mean furrowed brow?" I asked. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He proceeded to do a quick search and came upon a lively debate regarding the etymology of the words furrow and furl. It appears that the word "furl", when used as above in "a furled brow" is likely a malapropism, or mis-usage of an old nautical term mean to fold and is most commonly seen used as "unfurl". For example: She unfurled the sail. You can certainly stretch your understanding and see that if furl means, to fold, and unfurl means, to smooth, then a furled brow might be intended to demonstrate a wrinkled brow. However, it is more likely that because the words are quite similar sounding, when furl is used it is unintentionally substituted for the more appropriate furrow meaning, a groove. <br />
<br />
Do ya love it?! <br />
<br />
How do you go from an fluffy article about things that "Turn Her On" to a discussion of old, rare words? Put two logophiles together and it's easy, even likely to ensue. <br />
<br />
<img src="https://saspellingbee.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/word-nerd.jpg" /><br />
So, did you know, by the way, that women find men who have a furrowed brow more attractive than men who do not appear worried or deep in thought? They are also attracted to: the color red, cleanly shaven faces, good hands, deep voices and a healthy immune system. Huh. Read more fluff here:<br />
<a href="http://www.everydayhealth.com/mens-health-pictures/weird-things-that-turn-her-on.aspx#/slide-1">http://www.everydayhealth.com/mens-health-pictures/weird-things-that-turn-her-on.aspx#/slide-1</a><br />
<br />
So, it turns out that it's not just Rob's, ahem, hands, that I'm attracted to. I personally love that he's a word nerd like me. <br />
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Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044983673929634556.post-14496684056845675272013-09-03T06:58:00.000-07:002017-06-12T19:59:11.074-07:00Introversion is the new blackRob and A and I went down to an outdoor blues festival a couple of weeks ago. It was a perfect August evening; the weather had been unseasonably cool for the midwest. We took a blanket to spread on the grass, enjoyed some ribs and listened to the bands. The big name performer at the end of the evening was one that Rob enjoyed, so we stayed to listen, moving up to the front, near the stage, to be closer to the musicians.<br />
All around people were dancing, singing along, hands in the air, getting caught up in the music. I tried to dance a little to the music; it was Good, but not a band that I was familiar with. I found myself watching the crowd more than the band. (At social events you find yourself acting as more of an observer than a participant. Yes or No?) Rob kept asking me what was wrong, if I was ok. And I WAS ok. Really!<br />
<br />
As we were walking to the car, he was talking about something, I don't remember what, (I can concentrate easily. Yes or No?) and suddenly asked me why I was ignoring him. Uh oh. So, I tried to explain.<br />
<br />
And, Rob should get this. He knows I am an introvert. The funny thing is, he claims to be one too. I know differently. He may have had some shy, awkward years in grade school and junior high (oh my, who didn't?) and he may still have to consciously work at the art of conversation, but he is so far away from me on the continuum from introversion to extroversion that I can hardly believe he wouldn't identify as an extrovert.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I explained, though talking was the last thing I wanted to do, that I wanted some quiet. After an evening of being in a crowd, with so much activity and noise, I needed to be inside my head for a bit. I wasn't purposely ignoring him. I had just tuned out. (I feel drained after I've been out and about, even if I've enjoyed myself. Yes or No?)<br />
<br />
Because I am an introvert, and that is my nature.<br />
<br />
Introversion and introverts are getting a lot of press recently. There are social media quizzes to help you determine if you are an introvert.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Are you an Introvert? </span> </span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Take this quiz to find out!</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span> </h3>
I find this funny. No introvert needs a quiz to self-identify. We KNOW we are the wallflowers, the people watchers. We KNOW why we choose extroverts as our friends and mates: they do the work of keeping the conversation going and we can just relax and do what we do well, which is listen. (People tell me that I'm a good listener. Yes or No?)<br />
<br />
But, how does this difference in personality or nature actually
affect our relationships? Rob's influence on me has compelled me to
look at ways I use my introversion to avoid connecting with people on a
deeper level. He encourages me to reach out more often, start those
conversations, and benefit from interacting with people, even when it's
just small talk. I see the ways that he interacts with the world and it
truly comes across as such a loving way of interacting with people,
strangers many of them, and it is one of the many things I love about
him. To me, that willingness to open up to people, ask them about
themselves, share a little bit of yourself with them, is one of the
highest and best characteristics of being human. While I have always
been the one to immediately open my book on the airplane, to avoid
having to talk to my seat-mate, he will have exchanged email addresses
with them by the time the flight is over. Has he gained a life-long friend? Maybe not, but he has connected with another person, heard their story and perhaps learned something along the way. I can definitely see the beauty of that. <br />
<br />
Susan Cain has a book about introversion on the NY Times bestseller list: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking. After reading it some months ago, I immediately thought of all the people I wanted to share it with. (Isn't that the sign of a really good book?) I put it on Rob's reading list, of course, and gave it to my oldest daughter. For the extroverts of the world, I think they will benefit from learning more about the way the other half lives. For the introverts that I know and love, I think it will help them see their quiet nature in a new light. Susan relates that introverts are often drawn to extroverts as life partners. The two personality types can complement one another comfortably, as long as they can understand how and why they differ in the ways that they communicate and interact with each other.<br />
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So, it turns out that being an introvert is the new thing. Who knew? And I am. So, when you, my dear extroverted friend, have me out at a party and I don't appear to be having a good time, or if I seem to shut down just a bit after an especially loud and busy social experience, chalk it up to my introversion. Give me my down-time and then, I promise, I'll be ready to interact with you again. And, when I do, be prepared for some witty insights and interpretations, because I've had the time to put it all together in my head before speaking. (I tend to think before I speak. Yes or No?)<br />
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<br />Rachel Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14687211901752840871noreply@blogger.com0