A Father--Daughter Story

Letty, age 4, captured on 8mm film, practicing on a hot summer day in Independence, Ks. 

As I write on this hot summer day (103 in the shade), I am reminded of my childhood years at Miami Country club teeing off at 2:00 in the heat of the day, after I finished working in the golf shop. I believe we called those days "scorching hot," rather than suffering the effects of the "heat dome." There was no air conditioning downstairs in the golf shop, but we did have a huge wall fan that pulled in the fresh air through the golf shop and kept the downstairs locker rooms cool and dry.  Old Bill and I would take turns, when no one was in the shop, and go stand in front of the blowing air to cool down our bodies. 

Occasionally, on Thursday afternoon's Dad would ask me to join his group of Kenny Richards, Marion Zajic, and Charlie Trussler, Doc Jackson and others. By 1965, after graduating from Miami High school, my handicap stayed in the low single digits. Playing golf with the men and having to hand over a 50 cent piece, if I lost a bet, made me a better competitor. Having a low handicap, also, opened the door for me to play in the USGA Jr. Girls Championship at Hiwan Golf Course in Evergreen, Colorado.  

Dad and I drove through Wichita, Kansas to pick up his sister, Della, and drove on to Evergreen, Colorado that day (without AC in the station wagon). Imagine our delight when we arrived in the cool mountain air. I played one practice round at Hiwan with dad and took copious notes along with the handout from the pro shop.

 

The two days of qualifying were the greatest eye openers of my short life. My tee shot could not reach the fairway. The fairway began 100 yards off the tee box. Dad and I had practiced it and so I knew to use my MacGregor 5 wood to hit out of the rough. Because I had been chipping golf balls in the evenings to clean up the driving range I was, and still am, very good at hitting the golf ball close to the pin.  I one putted many greens in those two days, but often finished the holes with bogies, not  pars.  Even though I did not make the cut line, I met some of the most dynamic young girls from all over the country, including Canada.

 

We played the golf course at 3,544 yards on the front nine, 3,568 yards on the back nine for 7.112 dynamic massive yards.

That last day I watched as my dad allowed tears to trickle down his face when I posted my score. They were tears of pride not disgust. Discovering how proud my father and his sister were of my game of golf and fortitude that day made me feel like I could climb a mountain. I had never won a championship in our Oklahoma Junior events. My dream was to make people at the club proud of me. Attaching dreams to goals is not easy for a teenager. 

On a humorous note, I realize that my short game became my strength because the temperatures in July and August soared to the high 90's and 100's regularly, making it, too, miserable to hit hundreds of golf balls in the afternoon.  Salt tablets and gallons of water from water spigots on the golf course kept us going. Mother learned about serving Tang in the mornings to her active family, and that helped us better survive the heat. 

Golf Gypsy: My Mother's Words explains how much my mother suffered through those growing years with Jonya and me. 

L to R: Rinda Koppitz, Vicki Bell, .., Janice Bell.. 
Letty Stapp On the steps of the Broadmoor
Golf Course and Hotel (1966) 

During the summers of 1966 and 1967 I traveled with friends to Colorado Springs to play in the Broadmoor Ladies Invitational tournament. We never had the money to stay at the hotel, but we did manage quite well in a nearby stucco cottage motel sitting by a fast flowing stream from the mountains. During those summers my game was strong and solid, but the head game didn't develop until I was well into my fifties. I missed qualifying for Championship flight over and over. However, I learned that the other women in "President's Flight" or "A flight" with me were just as discouraged at their plight as I, and so the competition remained strong.

*Instagram: @golfgypsyok 

I found three old 8mm films that my father took at MGCC and elsewhere. I have converted them over the years to VHS, CD, and now a Flash Drive. This last attempt took several hours of viewing to see what we wanted to save. In the process, I discovered these old family videos from the early 1950’s when my father was the pro at Independence CC, Kansas. The blurry attempt came when I paused and took a photo of the picture on the screen, but the moment is captured and I felt proud of that childhood swing…which I would dearly love to have again. 

 

Food for Thought or Not

"How we spend our days is how we spend our lives."

 Annie Dillard 

Lately, since I fell October 24, I've been thinking, reading, sleeping, and looking at life from a couch or chair. When I think of thinking I'm most often reminded of the cliché  "food for thought." Then I laugh. Something inside of me examines this line differently than my school teachers. If I eat then it is often followed by sleep, so why would anyone eat food in order to think? However, when I play golf I find myself eating snacks for energy, so why not say "food for energy"? The adult version is to ponder an idea totally but I like to look at things aslant to keep my mind active and laughing about word choices. 

Thinking about other people's thoughts intrigues me. When I think with my emotions I find myself talking to God about the war in Ukraine, the women in Iran, and will this younger generation build bomb shelters like my father did in 1961. From there I ask "why" people are so selfish, so mean spirited, and then the voice in my head yells, "Stop." 

I like her voice, she is the strong woman in me. She knows that there are millions of loving caring people, who everyday step into help others. My neighbors recently cooked a church meal for 125 people. We know that most young people today set goals, help others, and are intelligent well-rounded individuals, who do not make the headlines.  

Currently, making me think differently are the sprakkar women who live south of the Arctic Circle in Iceland. The wife of the President of the country, Eliza Reid, made headlines a few years ago when she wrote an article claiming that as the wife of the President of Iceland she was not her husband's handbag. She maintains her own identity as an outstanding woman.

While rereading The Little Prince I collected the thought about the value of the lamplighter whose planet was turning faster day by day, so that now he had no time for rest. (So many interpretations of this line.) His planet made a complete turn every minute and he had to light a lamp and put it out every minute.  He had no time for rest and yet what he loved most was to sleep. As there was no solution the little prince deduced that the lamplighter was unlucky. "That man would be scorned by all the others; by the king, by the conceited man, by the tippler, by the business man. Nevertheless he is the only one of them who is thinking of something else besides himself." Other readers saw the lamplighter as focused only on his work and not someone who could be a friend. Isn't it fascinating to read or listen to other perspectives on a person, place or event without making a judgement? 

 

What I perceive about The Little Prince does not begin to touch the language nor experiences of other writers who expound on the meaning of this 96 paged book written eighty plus years ago. I thought perhaps he was lonely, yet curious about life.

Not an allegory of war, rather, a fable of it, in which the central emotions of conflict—isolation, fear, and uncertainty—are alleviated only by intimate speech and love. But the “Petit Prince” is a war story in a very literal sense, too—everything about its making has to do not just with the onset of war but with the “strange defeat” of France, with the experience of Vichy and the Occupation. Saint-Exupéry’s sense of shame and confusion at the devastation led him to make a fable of abstract ideas set against specific loves. By Adam Gopnik The Little Prince--a War Fable

The Little Prince is an honest and beautiful story about loneliness, friendship, sadness, and love. The prince is a small boy from a tiny planet (an asteroid to be precise), who travels the universe, planet-to-planet, seeking wisdom. On his journey, he discovers the unpredictable nature of adults. The Little Prince-a Children's book

The Little Prince teaches that the responsibility demanded by relationships with others leads to a greater understanding and appreciation of one's responsibilities to the world in general. The story of the prince and his rose is a parable (a story that teaches a lesson) about the nature of real love. The Little Prince

The beauty of the internet allows me that wide open rabbit hole, where my mind ventures about from one planet to the next. 

While I relaxed and allowed my body to heal, I read profusely: all magazines up to date; blogs and online stories I follow, up to date; one book a week or more instead of one book a month, done; quotes copied into my journal for guidance, done. Miles walked, not touched!

Once a week I read Maria Shriver's Sunday Paper.  She begins with her essay "I've Been Thinking...."

This week she wrote: "I love to walk, and I especially love to walk in nature. I love to listen to the sound of birds, and if I am lucky, the water in a nearby creek. I notice the trees, the sky, and the air as I meander about..."

I love to walk and be a part of nature, too, and so I let her words speak for me. (Click on the blue links to read more.)

I love cartoons for their perspective on life and words.

Christmas will be here soon and this year we celebrate our season of love with all of our children and their families. My mind will not be on writing and reading as much as it will be on "Thoughts for food" that I can prepare in advance or easily. Now to focus, but on what? 

The Golf Gypsy Gets Derailed

It is no fun to write about golf when the game plays havoc with the body, or perhaps it is the body that plays havoc with the game and the mind.

“The first thing golf teaches us is humility.”

spoken by every man and woman

Last spring my right shoulder gave out, teaching me to comb my hair, eat my food, and stir the cookie batter left-handed.  I tore my rotator cuff two decades ago, and yet thanks to therapy and perseverance I survived without surgery, and continued to play competitive and social golf.

This time the pain sent me to a doctor first (good idea!). When she explained that I needed rotator cuff surgery, and continued to explain in detail what it would involve and that the outcome might be limiting to my golf swing, I shed tears.  "NO," was all I could say. "I do not know how many more years I can play and I want to play well." 

"Then go to the gym and see if you can strengthen it. Know, that no matter how much you strengthen your shoulders, you will have lost distance because of the tear, and the years of overuse."

A vague memory crept forth through the brain fog, and I saw a young woman carrying a leather bag on her right shoulder through high school and college, and even well into her thirties. No wonder the doctor used the term “overuse.”

Within the week I was in the gym and found a trainer who worked specifically with me on my shoulders and core. Amazingly enough it worked. By May I felt sore but happy to be playing golf. The doctor was right. I have lost 20 yards and sometimes more with each club in my bag. (And I don’t like it one bit.)

Worse yet, the inconsistency I experience with my swing builds frustration in my soul. Water holes at The Trails Golf Club became my nemesis. Strength training gave me the ability to swing. Core training kept me turning. But confidence let me down and suddenly, water holes, trees, and Pampas grass derailed my thinking. 

I felt myself top the ball into the water; hit the ball high and watch it drop short of the bank; shank the ball into the Pampas grass; and scuzz the ball over my left toe and hit a tree that wasn’t in my line of sight. Still I persevered because I love the challenge of the game and the friends I meet. 

This course will take a bit out of you. 

When a lady at a golf tournament this fall asked me why I wasn't writing about my golf, it was easy to reply," because I'm not playing good golf." 

She laughed and replied, "Then that's a story in itself. I certainly don't play good golf every time I want to either." 

Point made.

"Have more humility. Remember you don't know the limits of your own abilities. Successful or not, if you keep pushing beyond yourself, you will enrich your own life--and maybe even please a few strangers."  A.L. Kennedy 

 

This last two months I have finally been able to generate some speed through the ball thanks to working with a trainer in the gym from March until August.  But I wasn't satisfied. I felt like something was still missing.

I turned to my good friend Dr. Beth Brown from SupHER Power Golf and have been shouting with joy and playing steadier golf since I heard her metaphor and followed her swing advice. 

"Keep the engine going through the swing. If the 

hips stop turning the arms collapse." 

Dr. Beth Brown 

Dr. Beth’s suggestions grounded me and reminded me of what I already knew but had lost.

One: Swing with the intention of swinging out to the target.

Two: Place a tee in the ground a few inches in front of the ball when practicing and swing the club through the ball and touch the tee. (On the golf course visualize this happening.)

Three: Create a smaller swing. (This worked better for me than to think about shortening my swing.)

Four: Keep the engine going. (Not as easy as it sounds when the body over takes us, but it is the goal with every shot.)

My husband and I enjoy watching college football. An article in the Boydstreet Magazine (October 2021, Issue 10, Vol.20) on Gabe Brkic, OU football kicker and current hero, caught my attention. The interview shares how Brkic enjoys playing golf in his free time. Brkic explains,

“I can translate some things from golf into kicking field goals and punting. In golf, I’ll pick a target line and make sure my club swing goes through my target line, same as with field goals. I’ll pick a target in the stands and as long as my leg swings straight through that I’ll hit a good ball.”

Gabe Brkic, kicker, pg. 46
Boydstreet Oct. 21

 How simple the game can be when it takes on a visual meaning that is attainable and visceral. Practice is necessary and it is one part of the sport I enjoy.

Now the Golf Gypsy is back on the tracks and moving through the ball.

 

** Dr. Beth Brown is now writing children's books with her favorite characters, Divot and Swish. If you have children or grandchildren please consider going to her website to learn more about the Confidence Divot and Swish learn through sports. Look for her second book to come out in December.  

The Adventures of Divot and Swish

 

 

Unfinished Business

My bucket list is filled with goals to achieve and places to go, someday. Over the last few years I have been thinking of things not done, goals not reached, places not visited and concerns. Do I still have twenty healthy years left to finish everything? 

Last year the Women's Oklahoma Golf Association announced that Golf Club of Oklahoma in Broken Arrow would be the site for the 2020 Women's State Amateur. Pouncing like a cat on a mouse, energy and drive filled my body. I knew  I must find the stamina and strong back to play in the four days of competition in the Oklahoma heat and humidity of July, because I had some 'unfinished business' to take care of on that golf course.

In 1988 I played Golf Club of Oklahoma for a USGA Women's Mid Amateur qualifier. With three teenagers at home, and a golf coaching job at NHS I set out to qualify. I knew from the practice round that I must learn how to hit out of the sand and straight up an embankment of 19'. Thank you Tom Fazio, Course Designer, who found ways to challenge a golfer mentally on every shot.  That summer my husband, Jack, drove me to the sand banks of the Canadian River where he shagged balls for me as I practiced hitting.  My visual was to pretend I could hit the ball as high as the highway bridge. 

#17 a par 3 at Golf Club of Oklahoma

My plan was nearly flawless. When I teed off  The Golf Course of Oklahoma that morning in August 1988 against Susan Basolo Kennedy and Deena Dills Nowotny I lost all focus. Jack tried in every way to help me swing and hit the golf ball squarely, but my mind and body would not work together until I faced the 17th hole, a par 3 with water to the right and deep sandy bunkers to the left. I had practiced that shot. I knew that shot like the back of my hand, and I performed that shot to perfection. Instead of landing the ball on the green with my tee shot, I pulled it into the deep bunker on the left and found myself faced with the shot I had practiced on the river bank. My body sprang into action. The sand wedge lifted the ball up, onto the green, where it promptly rolled into the hole for a birdie 2. I failed to qualify but I did have ONE fantastic shot that day. 

*Dena Dills Nowotny is in the Oklahoma  Golf Hall of Fame

*Susan Basolo Kennedy was a talented dynamic golfer Herstory

Thirty-two years later, I grabbed the opportunity to play that course once again in competition. On June 6, 1966 I shot a 76 at Ponca City Country Club and qualified for Championship Flight. Never again have I played that well in competition, especially not in a qualifying round. So those two thoughts filled my mind and it became my driving force, even through the panic of Covid. 

hole #10, the climb toward my goal

I worked out in the gym with weights, focused on strength and balance with Yoga and Tai Chi classes, and swung the golf club in my backyard to keep my body in shape all winter.  Older bodies do not perform like younger bodies in anyway except we can still focus and persevere, like an old mountain goat.  

This spring Dr. Beth Brown, sports psychologist, introduced me to "SupHer Power Golf for Women." The mental focus helped me push ahead and set a firm pictures of how and what I planned to achieve. 

SupHer Power Golf for Women

Did I do what I set out to do? This became my driving question instead of scoring as I played in May, June, and July. Did I set out to play 18 holes in thirty putts or less? Did I set out to hit my Driver down the middle and at least 160 yards (I may not out drive you, but I will beat you around the green!) Did I set out to chip the ball within 10' of the hole? My scorecard this year has a scores and + or - if I played to my goal on a hole. 

The process of being mentally prepared paved the way. Every shot I performed the same routine: 

1) see the line vividly (take a snapshot)

2) stand over the ball and fully visualize the shot (the snapshot I took earlier)

3) slowly take my club back

Did I do what I set out to do? YES. On July 20, 2020 I set out to play my best qualifying round of golf since 1966 and I did it. I did it at Golf Club of Oklahoma where I didn't have any fantastic shots, but I hit only 84 shots on a course of 5,300 yards. My body and mind know that I climbed my Mt. Everest and have seen the view. It felt damn good. 

Earl Woods successfully taught his son, Tiger, to 'PUTT THE PICTURE.'

Letty has Literally learned to "LIVE THE PICTURE."

Footnote: My timer went off at 4:00 today so I would take a break, mix the meatloaf, and bake it 45 minutes while I wrote. I took the break outside, felt refreshed and walked back to my studio to write. I never glanced at the kitchen! So we are having spaghetti and meat sauce. Life, just like golf sometimes gets off track. 

Relaunching Literally Letty

The further you get away from yourself, the more challenging it is. Not to be in your comfort zone is great fun.  B. Cumberbatch                  

I like my Art Gecko room. I like the blue walls with a colorful gecko lighting my way.  I like the pictures and the music in the background. My room smiles of happiness, closeness, colors, comfort, ownership, ME.  I like my comfort zone, and so for the last five years I have remained committed to what I know. 

Then the walls became closer all around leaving me no room to grow. 

On Saturday, February 8 I left my comfort zone for a conference of young writers and bloggers. Normally, words like conference, writers, bloggers don't scare nor hinder me, but life after 70 is not the same as the earlier years.  Confidence in various areas begins to drain the spirit and energy. I honestly feared taking this step because I didn't want to feel stupid. (I sound like some of my grade school students.)

Walking into the Launch Bloggers Conference at the National Cowboy Museum, the only kernel of confidence I felt was that I knew how to write. I watched as many of the young women from the business world were styling in platform shoes that I once wore in the '70's and that would now land me on my butt and in the hospital. My flats will be just fine and my long sleeves and sweater will serve me well. After all, I thought, t is not spring and I am not showing off my shoulders and back.  (Gads, where did this grumpy old woman come from?)

In the end, it truly wasn't the youth that bothered me, it was intimidation by young people who have grown up in a world of technology. I wanted to know more. I wanted to understand how social media could increase my readership. I wanted to know what/why/how symbols, like @ # could increase my blogging audience. I wanted to know steps in taking better pictures with my Iphone.  In my heart, I wanted to meet other people who blogged, and listen to their experiences and knowledge. 

Immediately, I met people at my table and fell right into conversations with them; the years did not divide us.  "Shoot, Edit, and Create Stunning Stories," by Nicky Omohundro, Nicky's Little Family Adventure Blog, kept my fingers traveling over the keys to edit photos. "Snapseed" and "Foodie" are two free apps that when downloaded and given access to the camera roll will provide hours of editing curiosities.  Using Snapseed here are three views.   

 

After downloading the app and giving "Snapseed" permission to use my photos on the camera roll,  I opened my camera roll, clicked on the photo to edit then clicked on the bottom middle word "tools". When the screen of tools appears use 'curves' found on the top row. Remember to check done/save. These two apps are what I call playful apps that can take time away from your day or add pleasure depending on your point of view. 

The most personal affirmation came from a workshop by Mae Badiyan Vision Planning and Goal Setting, who shared Daily Steps to Success. While she was explaining the importance of commitment to goal setting my mind flashed back to what I had done right for the last five years.  I set a goal to be pain free with my back and to be healthier by eating more veggies and less fat and carbs.  I nearly jumped up from my chair and said, "It works. I am living a healthy pain free life and eating my greens." Year by year I have been sharing my steps to a healthier me. I wrote with vision and determination. For a good laugh read my blog,  Golf Gypsy in a Pickle which gives advice on curing leg cramps. 

Now it is time to 'reset' my goals, keeping health my top priority and then asking myself:  What else is important?  How do I envision myself maturing through this decade of the 70's? What activities do I need to keep my mind and body healthy? 

 Being surrounded by the intriguing world of technology feels like watching a foreign film without captions. Thanks to the encouragement of Cassie Celestain, I walked into the last workshop held at Tailwind, an internet business in downtown Oklahoma City that helps to promote writers and businesses through technology by using that BIG word called algorithms. 
Melissa at Tailwindapp explained how hashtags worked. I have not found this very elementary even though Watson may disagree. For instance, when I visit an Oklahoma City location and take pictures to post on Instagram and/or Pintrest I am learning to use these symbols @ to tell the world of social media where I am or # to show what I am doing. Hopefully someone might be guided to my blog.

 For example, I "Literally Letty" posted this picture on Instagram and description:

Standing on top of this downtown building @tailwindapp I can see the #sunsetting #moonrise Thanks also to the #skirvinhilton #cmcustomsinc #bricktownbrewery #mywest #seeokc #remingtonpark #headcountrybbq #enchantteaandbody #literallyletty. 

Click on M to email this blog; T to send to Twitter; F to send to Facebook; P to send to Pintrest.

Before I exit this story here is a tip to you, my reader. At the bottom of my blog page you will see these symbols and words: A place to write Comments about the story; M to email this blog to a friend; T to send it to Twitter; F to send it to Facebook; P to send it to Pintrest. Please consider using these icons as ways to send my blog to friends of yours who might like to read the stories. If you are using the mobile view please click at the bottom View Web Version to see these options.  Thank you loyal readers, and I hope I have encouraged you to step out of your comfort zone or set goals for a new life and a new decade. 

The best things in life are often waiting for you at the exit ramp of your comfort zone.

Karen Salmansohn

Many thanks to the Oklahoma Bloggers and Influencers who offered this enlightening conference. 

Literally other blogs by Letty you might like to read:

Building a Strong Core









Younger Longer with Confidence  

Mind Travels

and the next time you gaze at the sky...dream dreams by Peter Spier

My mind does not travel

  like a driver on the Interstate.

It flows down old-fashion by-ways,

  through curious towns--

talking to strangers

smiling at all and

wondering what comes next. 

       Letty Watt

       

The white ring-neck dove sitting on the bird feeder this morning caught my immediate attention when I sat down to write. My movement caused a flurry of wings and explosion of energy as he flew away. Before I could could write a single word the finches arrived, three males with the rosy red heads and two brown to blanche females who seem more nervous than the male. The male finch showed off his rosy patch on his back while flitting from perch to perch. Thank you nature for this rosy distraction. 

Suddenly, the cold rains stopped the birds from feeding, so it may be a while before I am distracted by the doves, finches, Cardinals, or lively Carolina Wrens that feed and sing for us daily. 

January usually finds me thinking about resolutions and goals. In 2016 I wrote a resolution in this story Goals from the Heart.  I am still working on that resolution.

Eastside School  1894

This year after my 72nd birthday I began to count--all of the places yet to visit, all of the tasks yet unfinished, all of the new things yet to learn, all of my friends and family yet to enjoy time with, all of the projects yet to begin, and all of the books yet to read. Will I make it to 103?

From the simple word HOW I realized that it is goals I need to help me pursue tomorrow and all the days that I have left to enjoy. By definition a goal provides a direction to follow to achieve a desired outcome. Goals involve intention setting, planning, preparing, and taking action. 

Jefferson 1938

These steps are like my plans to stay strong and active, mentally and physically.  Then somewhere in the recesses of my mind I hear my mother sing to me a Frank Sinatra song called Love and Marriage. She used that song frequently when I wanted to do more things in a day than time allowed. "You can't do one things without the other." I was left to interrupt the message.

When Women's Golf made the social page of the newspaper. 1965.

Last fall the Women's Oklahoma Golf Association asked me to take on the task as historian. When I discovered a closet full of old scrapbooks that needed attention my mind began to swirl. 

One task of organizing history led to another. Since 1994 I have carried with me both on paper and in my head and heart the 100 year history of a school where I once taught, Jefferson Elementary in Norman, Oklahoma. With the help of Kathy Taber, Carol Upchurch, and Sallie Kennedy we have a team and a goal to collect the colorful history of Norman's original land site school in 1894. 

Needing help, I turned to the the University of Oklahoma's Western History Collection for guidance. Jacquelyn Reese helped me build a plan for success with both of my tasks.  Now on each notebook in bold print I keep the steps to organizing history: COLLECT, SORT, LABEL, PRESERVE, AND SHARE. It sounds so simple. 

 

Jefferson 1994 (mural by Peggy Smith)

  This month I've designated for the "sorting party" celebrations. We have begun our sorting parties at Jefferson on Thursday afternoons.  On January 28 we will be sorting women's golf history at Tulsa Country Club. Each time I think of sorting my mind always strays to Harry Potter and the 'sorting hat' that originally belonged to Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of Hogwarts. Since our stories are old like Hogwarts I hope we will find the same magic with our sorting parties. 

Sorting at home. 

NOTE: If you would like to help with the either collection of history, please leave a comment in the section below this story. I will  reply.

Other stories pertaining to Jefferson and Women's Oklahoma Golf Association you may like to read:

Jefferson: Inspiration--A Story a Story  ( a story about stories and puppets)

Jefferson:Golf Gypsy: The Secret to Staying Young (a story about Lois Cowles)

WOGA;Letter to Dad

WOGA;  Herstory: Susan Basolo
. 

THE IMMEDIATE TWIN

For the last two decades I’ve done my best to exorcise my “evil golf

Like telling my ball where to go. 

twin", and with enough success that for the last few years I have felt focused on writing and living life fully. However, this spring she, my evil golf twin, reemerged with a vengeance and new target, my writing brain.

For instance, I sat down to write about an hour ago. After the first paragraph I paused to consider the verb ‘reemerged’ or the new ‘upcycled.’ As I pondered this perplexing problem I noticed that the bird feeder outside my writing window looked empty. Oh my! I can’t write without my birds for light entertainment, so I took the dog with me to the garage where I gathered two cups of birdseed and filled the feeders for the finches, doves, robins, cardinals, and ubb’s (unidentified brown birds).

 After Lucy secured the yard we walked back in through the garage and into the laundry room. Since the buzzer was nearly ready to go off I decided to hang and fold laundry. Normally, that’s to be expected in my life, however, today I not only hung and folded all of the laundry, I also took the time to put everything away today, NOT tomorrow. This twin demands Immediate Satisfaction at the cost of my creative side.

Yesterday, I told my sister that finally I was free to write all day Monday, but that didn’t happen.  Having been healthy and able to play golf, briskly walk a couple of miles, and work in the yard nearly pain free since April, I know that I must remain physically fit with trips to the gym and workouts at home. Sadly, my brain and muscles work on the same clock—we work best in the morning without distractions. It takes energy to push myself to the gym and the same with writing. Long term goals require a focus and do not handle distractions.

Art Gecko view

This morning I stood between two worlds, my ‘Art Gecko Writing Room’ and the front door that leads to the gym. Without guilt I drove to the gym, and came home refreshed and ready to relax a moment then write. 

I also came home hungry. The plan was flawless. I would eat leftover pizza for lunch and then write all afternoon, but my Immediate Twin rocked me when I discovered that I had a 2:00 dental cleaning. Growling at myself I turned in frustration to see what I could do in an hour.  Ha!

My sister, Jonya, has been cleaning and sorting her home for several days. (She’s a teacher going back to work all too soon and she goes into this frantic cleaning sorting mode every late July.) Now some authors and worldly writers would rarely find themselves in this position. They write, even if they have only one hour. 

My task brain looked around and found a chore for immediate satisfaction, and decided that I could take some summer golf clothes to GOODWILL. I drug bag of clothes to the hallway and let Jack know that the assault on the clothes closet had begun. Suddenly, he stood up from his TV chair and said,” I’ve been putting this off long enough!” Forth minutes later we stuffed the back of my car with five trash bags filled with clothes. Really!

I made it to the dentist and onto Goodwill, then came home prepared to write.  Of course, I only wrote 10 minutes before being distracted. Now my Immediate Twin is grinning over my shoulder at all of the things I did today, and saying,“aren’t I proud?”

This all comes with one more problem. I am no longer forty years old and writing at nights to finish my first book with Dr. Mildred Laughlin. In a flash back I recalled teaching all day, being with family all evening, and writing alone in the kitchen until midnight. Then I turned around and did it again, day after day,  until our first book was finished in less than a year.  Not so, now. Anybody who says that “Seventy is the New Forty” is not seventy.   7 Reasons Why Seventy is the new Forty

 The truth is that no one mentions how tired a seventy year old is at night. I can no longer work productively after dinner, sometimes not even after 4:00.  Tomorrow I will play golf, relax with a book or close my eyes for a while, then go to Tai Chi. I tell my twin that those physical activities must come first.

My plan for Wednesday and Thursday is to be Wonder Woman, cross my arms and create a shield to keep my Immediate Twin away, so I may finish the blog I began in May on empowerment, or not. 

Just the same: This Life is Pretty Darn Good and Funny. 

My twin and I agree that this place is good for the soul. 

200+ But Who's Counting?

First, I want to Thank You Dear Readers wherever you live on this planet. Without you my words have no meaning, no life. You are the ones who give breath to these printed words.

And yes, I'm counting and examining the two hundred plus blogs I've written since 2010. I want to see if I've become a better writer; to see what I have learned; to reread and reflect; and to look ahead. Searching through the archives on the right side of the screen I realized that my heart is as random as my head. Many of my blogs, like books in a library, touch our hearts or challenge us, but some ought to be discarded. 

Like birds randomly dropping seeds, my finger slipped on the computer screen, as I searched the archives, and I opened Anna's Angel.  I've moved since I wrote that story, but Anna's Angel still has a place over my grandmother's antique secretary desk. 

With my 50th class reunion still fresh on my mind, I searched through the Miami Memories and found two stories that touched me deeply.  One November I spent several days calling my classmates, listening to their voices, their stories

of laughter and sorrow.  Those Moments that Connect reminded me of my January promise: This year my goal is simple but sincere.  Pick up the phone and call a friend once a week. A phone call connects us to the heart of the person, much like using a puppet to communicate.Goals from the Heart

Another Miami Memory shows the depth of sadness in our family in the one week when our President JFK

Aunt Sissie and grandma

was assassinated and my grandmother died in her sleep. Moments in Time.  

Sonya, Jan, and Jeannette

The tremendous impact of reading on my life can't be measured, and I can always find a moment to tell someone about a good book, relate a story about a story, or sit down and visit a new world created by an author's imagination. There are many Readings and Greetings in the last five years of my blog, but perhaps the list and reflection of our Book Club in Hutchinson tells it best.   It is like Edmund Burke says, "Reading without reflecting is like eating without digesting." 
Book Club Celebrates Ten Years

Looking back I can find  stories begging to be told in the oral tradition of  storytelling.  That is, after all, how this

 all began. It is how families stayed connected, and it is how I have reconnected with my family on my mother's and father's side.  Thanks to my grandmother's collection of postcards  about the Clendening family, we now have a thorough shared genealogy file: Consumed by a Story. Through another family post Along the Lonesome Trail, I have met and talked with long lost family members. What memorable moments these stories have given us, one hundred and fifty years later. 

Glancing back to 2010 and 2011 I see what I so dearly miss--those early morning country walks with Lucy. I'm so glad I wrote about those memories, as brief as they might be. They give me reasons to laugh and chuckle at life. I'd forgotten about that little skunk, who's dance captured my heart

 Dancing in the Breeze.  One day a squirrel, in an attempt to out run a horse, instead ran up my leg. Lucy to the rescue still shows the scar of the squirrel on her nose.Walking Pell Mell  I still laugh every time of think of some of these moments. 

What have I learned?  Thanks to comments by my readers, I've learned to increase the size of my font. When our stories connect to the heart  then people relate and feel connected. I've met many new friends and fellow writers online, each with a distinct voice and vision. Their diverse styles, formats, and purposes for writing inspire me and encourage me to continue. 

In the future, I'd like to write more about other people's lives,

walk closer to nature, and continue to explore every aspect that life offers us.

There will always be change, as long as we are still learning. My very first blog, one paragraph long, begins with change and adaption. As difficult as computer programs have been for me to learn, I'm thankful that I have the opportunity to grow and stay connected to the world. Thank you Rosemary Miller for showing me this path. The last lines from my first paragraph reads: Practice, repeat, and continue. So this blog will be a study of learning, living, laughing, and loving life with Letty.

NYC December 2015