Why, hello there. Long time. No post. Why don't you follow me on facebook? You may friend request me here. http://www.facebook.com/people/Kelly-Boatwright-Groat/628588543 (As you know, all of us terribly old people have taken over.)

In other news, I've had this blog for... what?? Over 8 years? I guess you could say a long time. I'm not sure if anyone ever visits this place any more, or if people just show up via some random Google search. At any rate, I kind of miss having a place to be creative, but honestly who has the time these days? Life is good, and busy, and not always neat and tidy, but certainly good.

I'm going to have a glass of wine, watch something funny, and hug my family.

Howdy, strangers. I hope everyone had a nice Summer, Fall, and Holiday season. Me? Well, when life hands you lemons, you drink tequila shots, 'eh?

Speaking of lemons, and life, we can just sum things up by saying things have been challenging. Challenges can be good, and they can make you appreciate the things that do go right, and the things that make you step back and understand that as bad as something may seem at the time, it could be worse.

I'm drinking less, working out more (need to find a way to bottle endorphins), spending less money, driving more miles, sleeping less, cooking more, watching less television, reading more books, and focusing more on family and friends.

I'm sitting here, typing, asking myself, "why are you doing this instead of grilling that chicken up for dinner tonight?" The sad thing is I'm actually trying to answer myself, and I'm getting frustrated with myself because I can't come up with a logical answer. "Uhhh, I dunno - maybe I'm procrastinating. Maybe my brain is just crispy from stress, lack of sleep, disappointment, and worry that doing ANYTHING else is just too hard." It's also better than opening a bottle of wine, and crying.

So, yeah - hi. I want to blog more, or - to tell the truth - I want to write more. I want to have a day where I stay in my bathrobe, turn on the computer, and just write. Write about my oatmeal and blueberries, and grapefruit juice, and how luxurious the silence is. I want to write about my new Ugg Coquette slippers, and how truly hideous they are, but how they're becoming my favorite shoes because nothing is more comfortable. I want to write about how much I want to shake sense into some people, and how much I'd like to move to a nice little cabin in the mountains with only one t.v., one computer, and one cell phone. And maybe a dvd player, but that's it.

I bought a bottle of Unisom at CVS this afternoon, and I'll take one around 8:30 p.m., and hope I fall asleep shortly after that. I've got to get up at 4:00 a.m., and take my Mom to the hospital for surgery tomorrow morning. Nothing major, but just a tiny example of how I'm pulled in a lot of different directions. I'm not complaining, I'm just tired.

I'm also thankful that I am able to be here for the people that need me. I'm just hoping I can find a time where I'm not worried, and I'm able to enjoy life in a carefree manner. It almost seems irresponsible to think I can be "carefree", but for just one day it would be nice.

briefly

Going back to Austin in a little over a week. Need. Trip. Bad. http://lostpines.hyatt.com/hyatt/hotels/

I don't normally rave about things, but I'm going to rave just a little here. Great movie. Unbelievable soundtrack. It's really one that stays with you. (Why didn't anyone tell me about The Frames before now?) Sweet, lovely, and nothing blows up. http://www.foxsearchlight.com/once/

Rain. More rain. And more rain. If you're going to lose your air conditioner in the summer in Texas, this is a good time to do it. Getting two airconditioning units (plus a furnace) replaced at home over the next two days. The fun never ends.

Still working out. Still tending the happy little garden. Still pretty much avoiding the internet when I can. Still scared about things, but kind of proud of myself for being strong. Still loving music, and movies, and good wine (especially when it's cheap and/or free.) Still missing my Dad, but - hey - that's normal, and I'm actually all right with it (most of the time).

(O.K. No more "stills".)

I bought "Sideways" for the second time today (my copy was loaned out, evidently), and I'm watching it before I go to bed. G'night, internet.

another day

I re-read yesterday's post, and I guess I sounded a little mopey. If I don't post again for another couple of months I really don't want to leave things hanging on a sour note.

I ended up having a nice, quiet birthday. I've got a very busy day today, and a full weekend, and I'm glad I'll get to see friends. Things have ways of working themselves out, and sometimes I lose sight of that. Hey, I'm human.

I wish I had something more profound to say. I miss the connections I've made over time with blog friends. I suppose that I've just hit some sort of technological wall. Between cell phones, and text messages, and blogs, and all of the other non-human-contact things taking up my (and a lot of other peoples) time, I've just got this "is this all there is?" sort of feeling.

I'd rather be spending time plucking the dead flowers out of the flower beds, or having lunch with a friend, or grilling burgers and sitting by the pool. I'd rather be working out and sweating, or delivering meals on wheels, and interacting with all the lonely, lost people out there who look forward to a minute or two of human contact.

I'm not saying I'm giving up my cell phone or my lap-top, I'm just saying I'd rather be out there living life instead or writing about it. This doesn't mean I'm never going to blog again, or that I won't use technology to further any sort of creative needs I might have. I just know with each passing birthday that life is too short to be spent tied to technology.

If it makes you happy, then there's nothing wrong with it, I suppose. I just know myself.

So, how are you doing? Anyone still out there?

another year

I know, I know. You never post, you never call, you never write...

We all know the old saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all." I guess today would be a good time for me to stay largely silent. I'm hurt, and disappointed, and in the long run I end up being the most hurt and disappointed in myself. I feel kind of empty, and lonely. It's a heavy feeling that I keep to myself as best as I can because I hate, hate, hate complaining. I listen to "Halley's Waitress", and cry because it makes me think of the people and friends I miss, and I spiral downwards and start thinking "well maybe I'm just invisible, and not worth it..."

Yeah, I know. Real cheerful and perky!

I tell myself it's just another day, and honestly, it is. I make myself a bowl of oatmeal with blueberries, drink my orange juice and coffee, and find things to be thankful for in the peacefulness of morning. I am not perfect, and I know no one else is, either. I am a forgiving, loving person, and when the world makes it awfully tempting to give in a little to the bitterness I just look deep inside and encourage myself to keep moving forward. Be light.

Circumstances will never change the person I am, and I don't care what anyone else thinks, especially D.'s girlfriend(s - ?)

life goes on

Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of my Dad's death. I'm thinking about it, but not thinking about it, if that makes any sense.

I can still hear his voice, see his face - his large hands - his engaging smile, and I can still feel him with me. I am so thankful for all the good memories, but there've been times over tha past few months that I've wished he was here. I wish I could tell him about the crappy things that have happened, and ask him for advice. I wish he was here to counsel the people he loved so much. He would know what to say to make things better.

I think things like, "should I go visit his grave?", even though I don't really believe he's there. I'm afraid that if I go there all I'll be reminded of is the pain and exhaustion my family went through a year ago. I knew the minute I looked at his lifeless body lying in the E.R. of the hospital that he was gone.

I'm still not convinced going in with my Mom to see him in the hospital before he was taken to the funeral home was a good idea. It's the only thing I have nightmares about - his stiff body - his mouth gaping open from the tubes - his oddly yellowish skin. I guess some people need that for "closure", and I won't say it's not a good thing, but I know it wasn't good for me. Seeing him after he'd been cleaned and made up, and put in his casket was different. His hands were still big, but it didn't look like my Dad anymore.

Grief is one of those things a person can't adequately explain. All I know is how I've been able to cope is to appreciate all the good things that my Dad did for me, for my family, and for so many of his friends and colleagues over his long life.

I will probably drink the last bottle of Dairioush Red Table wine that I've saved. I sat on the back porch the night of his funeral drinking the next-to-last bottle, crying, and talking about how much my Dad would've loved seeing all those people at his funeral. "It's a shame he couldn't be there - he loved getting together with his family and friends." It was when I realized he would always be with me in spirit, but there were going to be lots of times I'd get frustrated because he couldn't be there physically.

I've got to go workout now.

[blows dust off of blog, wonders if anyone is still out there...]

Life is good. So many things are going on that I love that life has taken a large priority over internet time.

I've been reading "The Secret" just to see what the fuss is all about. (Sidenote: I'm not going to link to things today. If you really want to learn about it you know what to do.) A group of friends and I had a heated debate about this Saturday night over a few bottles of wine. Isn't the Law of Attraction just common sense? You put forth a positive outlook and you'll get back positive things. So I've been going to bed thinking nothing but positive thoughts, I've quit worrying (because worrying about something makes that thing happen), and I've eliminated the word "try" from my vocabulary. It's all good. Good good good positive happy wealthy healthy happy shiny no worries good thoughts.

I've been keeping up with my Meals on Wheels route as well. On Monday I met one of my new clients, a blind gospel trumpet player with a broken foot. He gave me two cassette tapes. He was lying on a stack of blankets in his apartments tiny living room, and he had a candle burning on a windowsill. That was a little disturbing. I also went in to chat with Winnie since her nurse wasn't there yet. She scooted to the door in her wheelchair, and when I asked her how she was doing she said, "Oh not good at all. I can barely get around. I'm 94 years old." She made me laugh. I still love this job, and I thought of all these people as I fell asleep Monday night.

I'm still working out. I ride 10 miles on the bike, I do circuit training, I lift weights, and I do yoga. I hate it, but I know I am a better person for it. I am keeping my borerline high blood pressure in check, and I finally have an ass! No kidding. I don't just have these legs that go right up into my back any more. I wouldn't go so far as to say I've got "back", but I've got something to shake on the dance floor (if I ever find myself in a dance floor-type situation.)

I am tired of Brittney/Anna Nicole/blah blah celebrity rehab blah blah blah. I think about what my Dad would say - "Who are these people and why am I supposed to care?" Also, if I hear "baby daddy" one more time I'm going to punch someone.

I can't quit calling Barack Obama "Osama Bin Laden". I know. That's probably not what he wants. I do like his positive spirit, but the mudslinging (whether it's coming from him or some indirect source) makes me more uncomfortable than the term "baby daddy". Oh well, when in Rome...

I'm all for the HPV vaccine, the weather, The Office, good Sauvignon Blanc's, classic Sinatra T-shirts, long walks on the beach, and cliches.

There. That's worth waiting weeks for, 'eh?

p.s. I hope all of my blog friends are doing well. I *do* miss you.

what are you waiting for?

Monday was the best day I've had in a long time.

I started my new Meals on Wheels route, and got to the pick up point early. I figured I'd need to give myself some extra time, and boy am I glad I did.

I had 24 people on my route, and instead of it being in the White Rock Lake area, it was in Garland. Fine, I thought, I'll knock this out in an hour.

It didn't take me long to get frustrated. I hate to get lost, and it really didn't help that the directions to the first stop had a slight hitch. One of the major streets had been mislabeled. I pulled over and took out my Mapsco, and after several hair-pulling minutes of saying "wtf" to myself over-and-over, I figured out the mistake and felt brilliant.

I love this job. I can not begin to tell you how good it makes a person feel. I had the back of my Jeep filled with one cooler of bags containing milk, applesauce, hot dog buns and tiny packets of mustard, and another two coolers filled with trays of hot chili, wienies, and beans. The first stop was quick. Not a talker. The next stop was a gentleman that used a cane, and was vision and hearing impaired. I could hear his television on in the background, so I rang the bell a few times, and knocked fairly loudly. He came to the door, and wanted to talk. He was flirtatious.

I made my way to several more stops, and met a nice woman in a wheelchair. She came to the door with her little dog Taffy in her lap, so I came in and put her lunch on a table. Her house was very cluttered. There wasn't a spare place in the living area to sit - every inch was covered in junk. There were bags of trash lined up along the walls, there were dishes, glasses, plates, etc. stacked on the kitchen counter and filling the sinks. She was pleasant and chatty, and showed me the birthday cake she was working on for her Mother. She was going to have a 90th surprise birthday party. Her other daughter was flying in from North Carolina.

The directions were still pretty good, and I made it to a home that a couple lived in. They had a wooden sign with two carved crows sitting on top of it. The sign said "Two old crows live here". I walked in and the gentleman was sitting in his recliner, and his wife was sitting on the couch. They were both on oxygen, and had a nurse caring for them. The woman was talkative, and told me she had a hard time sleeping the night before. I put their lunch on their kitchen table. The table was set with cloth napkins, plates, silverware, and glasses. I told the lady I was sorry she had a hard night, and hoped she had a better one that night. I turned to look at her husband. He was as frail as she was, but he smiled at me and waved. He looked just like a little boy waving, and I told him to have a nice lunch, and a good day.

As I was leaving the lady said, "Thank you, and God Bless You."

I got tears in my eyes when I got in the car, and found my next three stops in a run-down apartment complex around the corner.

It would be easy to get depressed at some of the things you see. I try to be as cheerful and helpful as I can. I admire their trinkets, their little dogs, and their tidy yards or homes.

I became frustrated again when the directions stopped. I still had seven more stops, and my Mapsco, so I did my best. I still got lost, and started to get mad at myself for getting stressed out. Here I am, cursing, flipping pages, making u-turn after u-turn, looking at the time, cursing, etc. I made all my stops, returned my coolers (I was the last one done), and finished up with the rest of my day.

Last night I was lying in bed, and started to think about the couple with the old crows sign. I imagined them 60 years ago. I pictured her in a simple dress, and I saw them holding hands. I thought of all the years they had together, and the things they could have possibly been through. Children. Grandchildren. Laughter. Tragedy. Holidays. Meals. Their health was failing, but they still had each other. I thought about how powerfully amazing love is, and I fell asleep.

I can't wait to do it again. I don't know why it took me so long to volunteer, but shortly before Christmas I started questioning my existence. (I know, that sounds so dramatic, but it really isn't.) I've got a full life, and I am happy, but I felt like there's something missing. There's more I needed to do. I said, "What are you waiting for?"

I would highly recommend volunteering for something to all of my friends. Trust me, you always get 100% more out of it than whatever it is you are doing.

baby fishmouth!

Happy New Years to everyone - get your Dick Clark on.

Be safe. Here's to a much less sucktacular year in 2007. Cheers.

merry christmas

I've put off listening to my favorite Christmas story until today. I started crying immediately. It always makes me cry (like the ending ot It's A Wonderful Life), but this year it's just so bittersweet.

I remember the first time I played it for my Dad, and he smiled and said, "That's a mighty fine Christmas story." John Henry Faulk's story has always reminded me of my Dad, and his stories of Christmas when he was a little boy.

I've posted the link to this every Christmas since I've been keeping this blog, so I guess it's a tradition. Even if you've heard it before, you should listen again.

Merry Christmas, everyone. Hugs to you all.