Your Failures to Try

"Our ability to adapt is amazing.  Our ability to change isn't quite as spectacular."  Lisa Lutz

What is it about change that sometimes throws us for a loop, makes us question our life choices, and gives us sleepless nights?  We like our routines.  Wake up, exercise, shower, IV of coffee, commute (swearing under breath), work, work, more work, fight traffic (more swearing), pick your cereal for dinner, go to bed, wake up, do it all again.  No surprises, no curve balls.  We become like androids, never deviating from the program.  But for some reason, we derive comfort from our regimen.

One day, as if awakening from a coma, I declared out of the blue "I think I'll quit my job." My husband glanced my way momentarily and returned to watching his favorite Jackass episode.   In hindsight I believe he just thought it was a maniacal utterance, one that wouldn't have to be acknowledged because it was never going to happen.  "I'm really going to do it."  Whew.  It was out there.  And I meant it this time.

My husband and I continued our normal routine, never giving credence to my outburst.  But at work I was transformed.  Things that normally made me crazy slid right off my back.  A million assignments from my bosses?  No problem!  Having to learn an entirely new system to track my time?  Why not! Working another 10 hour day?  Piece of cake.  I knew it was all temporary because the words "I think I'll quit my job" had actually gone from my lips into the universe.  There was no going back.  I was going to quit.  One day.  I swear.

That one day arrived.  I was ready to jump into the abyss of unemployment.  Hadn't I declared I was going to quit six months ago?  By golly, I did it!  I later sent a text to my husband that I had gone through with it and given my notice.  "Great" was all I received in reply.  Somehow I don't think he really meant it.

On the surface, my husband was supportive.  We went to dinner at a nice restaurant with friends and celebrated my "retirement" with expensive wine and toasts.  He said all the right things.  "You deserve a break."  "We'll be fine."  But as my final day at work approached, the dialogue became different.  He started saying random things like "We need to do about $50,000 of repairs to the house."  Really?  Did I miss some natural disaster?  "Do we really need a maid?"  Are you kidding me?  I live with 2 men and a dog.  We could qualify for an episode of Hoarders.  "How much do you spend on wine a month?"  Back off, buddy.  How much did you spend on those 3 motorcycles and 2 race cars?  You really want to go there?  "Do you want to be cremated or buried?"  WTH?

So here I am.  Unemployed, week dos.  And I have to admit, I'm kinda bored. (Don't tell my husband.)  I went from working 50-60 hour weeks on complex cases with grueling deadlines to taking 2 hour naps in the afternoon.  It doesn't help that it's rained everyday for the past month and I've been trapped inside my house.  There's only so many closets to clean out, only so many wreaths you can make for your front door, only so many episodes of Arrested Development that you can binge watch  I updated my LinkedIn profile but I wasn't sure what to list as my profession.  Bored housewife?  Aspiring writer?  Party planner extraordinaire?  Who am I?  It's hard to know when you're 52 and your whole life has been defined by your former job or as someone's mom.  

I have a friend who's mantra is "No change is good change."  For the longest time I believed that or better yet, convinced myself that he was right - no change is good.  I now see it for what it was - a defense mechanism for staying the course and not challenging myself.  To be quite honest, I've never really failed at anything because I've never stepped out in faith and tried something unconventional. I was too scared.  What would my friends and family think?  Would they laugh at me?  Are they reading this blog and thinking it's lame?   I don't think I care any more.  It's time to try.

My father had a poem hanging on his law office wall for over 50 years.  He just recently gave it to my son who is about to venture out on his own and attempt to fulfill his lifelong dream.  I'm taking the words to heart as well.

"Your Failures to Try" by Tom Q. Ellis

If you honestly tried but you honestly failed in
  a cause that you knew was worthwhile;

If your good faith was questioned, your motives assailed,
  you can meet these assaults with a smile.

True values of life that lend strength to the soul
  are not measured by public acclaim;

If you played the game square but fell short of the goal;
  you're a winner tho' losing the game.
The failures you make after giving your best,
  oft are blessings that come in disguise;

Your courage to try is the infinite test
  that your failure to try but denies.
When life's ledger is closed and all failures must bide,
  to be scanned by the All-Seeing Eye,
He'll condemn not the failures you made when you tried,
  but rather your failures to try.

Looking at the world through wine colored glasses

My soundtrack:  Good Friend and a Glass of Wine by Leann Rhimes.  Not a Leann fan but Joss Stone makes this song worth it.

http://youtu.be/GOEcgQZu06Q

It is winter in Texas, an oxymoron some might say.  We actually experience some truly cold, rainy weather and it is beginning to feel like we are living in England.  I can feel my teeth turning brown and my mood becoming somber.  I haven't seen the sun in weeks.  I am in dire need of a pick-me-up when one of my girlfriends suggests we take a wine tour of the hill country.  Needless to say, she doesn't have to ask me twice.  

We sign up with a tour group appropriately named Texas Winos at texaswinos.com.  Their webpage says they want to run a "different" tour - one like your best friend is running.  I am skeptical.  As the day approaches, the group texts started flying - 

"What are you wearing?"

"What are you bringing to eat?"

"How are we getting downtown?"

"How are we getting home?"

"What are we drinking on the bus?"

"What are we drinking on the way to the bus??"  

"What are we drinking from the time the bus pulls into the parking lot until we disembark to go to the wine tasting?"
I know at this point, regardless of how the tour turns out, our group is going to have a good time.

We meet at a downtown restaurant, Michelada and while waiting to board, we get the day started with, what else, but a Michelada.  Now anyone who knows me well, knows I have lost many an hour in the name of research trying to find the world's most amazing Bloody Mary.  That love has naturally transferred to the Michelada.  For the uninitiated, a Michelada is similar to a Bloody Mary except made with beer.  What makes this one extra delicious is the chile salt rim.

But I digress. We finally board the bus and begin our adventure.  The drive to Fredericksburg is sedate as we sip our drinks, chat incessantly and enjoy the countryside.  We finally arrive at our first stop Woodrose Winery and we are famished.  http://www.woodrosewinery.com/   Woodrose issues us a  Passport and we "travel" to different countries to sample local fare with a Woodrose wine.  While I pride myself on being fearless and trying everything once, I look into my bowl and see this looking back at me.

Yikes! And quite honestly, I have this same feeling after trying their wines.  It is true that when you pair the correct wine with a dish, it totally enhances both but not enough to make me buy any Woodrose wines.  I do manage to down every glass of wine (shocker) but I'm ready to move on.

Next stop I'm convinced I've found my people.  Fat Ass Ranch and Winery obviously has a sense of humor which I love.  Unfortunately, their wines I do not love.  Way too sweet for me.  But they are relatively new to the hill country wine scene so who knows what their future holds.  We still manage to have a great time by foregoing the tasting, purchasing a bottle of their driest wine (still sweet) and sipping it on their fabulous covered patio while listening to a local guitarist.  We even manage a couple of line dances with some of the more intrepid wine tourists on our bus.  What Fat Ass Ranch and Winery lacks in vino, it more than makes up for in atmosphere.

Finally, our last stop is at the holy land of Texas wine - Mendelbaum Cellars  http://mendelbaumcellars.com/  Their Holy Land wines are from the Israeli wine growing regions of Galilee, Judean Hills and the southern desert region of Negev.  We all know that Jesus drank wine and apparently he loved a good wedding party.  Jesus and I have a lot in common.  And if Jesus drank Mendelbaum wines, I bet he would have loved them.

Some of you may assume that being third stop on the wine tour may have affected my judgment and you may be right.  I came home with four bottles - Abraham, Jacob's Dream, Paradise, and Texas Cabernet Tempranillo.  We have since indulged in the bottle of Abraham (a blend of Syrah, Cabernet Franc and Merlot) and I must say it did not disappoint.  I cannot wait to open the remaining bottles.  But be forewarned.  Mendelbaum wines are not cheap.  They average around $40.00 a bottle but I dare say they are worth the price but maybe for a special occasion and not your house wine.

Alas, it's time for us to head back to Austin.  In the famous words of Robert Earl Keen, "the road goes on forever, but the party never ends."  Texas Winos obviously knows at this point their patrons want to continue on their wine high so they crank up the music and dancing in the aisles ensues.  The wine continues to flow for everyone and the sound decibels reach the highest of the day.  Without divulging too much, I admit there was dancing and partial nudity on the way home (not by me).  We are now all best friends and united in our love of beautiful Texas days and wine.  By this time my skepticism has been laid to rest.  Texas Winos is indeed a good friend.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Soundtrack:  I've Seen Better Days by Sublime
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfqJJLBHmhA

Book on my nightstand:  She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb

2015 is supposed to be the year - the year my oldest son joins the military, the year my youngest son graduates from college and hopefully finds a job, the year we pay off the house, the year my husband and I start re-connecting in our marriage, the year I quit my job and re-career into something I enjoy doing.  Whoa, Nelly. Back up there. 

My husband and I are fortunate in that we are willing and able to pay for our children's college tuition and all other related expenses - books, rent, food, car expenses, weekly allowance.  The list goes on and on.  No loans, no scholarships here.  Our parents did that for us and it was important to us that our children graduate from college without the burden of being enormously in debt.  This gift to our children has come through our blood, sweat and tears and some pretty savvy financial planning. 

When my oldest son first entered college, I decided to return to the workforce to help with the expenses.  I have a wonderful but grueling job so the plan has always been for me to quit when our youngest son was graduated from college in May 2015.  I was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel and was mulling over all the wonderful new adventures I could embark on with my free time when I quit.  

Imagine my surprise when I got a call from my son, who, in a sheepish voice, managed to inform me that SURPRISE - he is short 12 hours of credits and won't be graduating in May after all.  As if to take some of the sting out of this news, he added that his adviser said this happens all the time.  Like, no big deal!  Obviously, his parents paid for his college tuition too.

As the days rolled by, I managed to go from shock to a slow stew.  I couldn't let it go and  wanted someone to commiserate with me.  Someone who knew what it was like to sacrifice for your kids, to work hard at a thankless job, to put your own dreams temporarily aside.  Who better than another mother - my mother.  I filled her in on the whole story.  The whole, woe is me tale of how my youngest son was now going to graduate later than expected forcing me to possibly delay my plans.  After pouring out my heart and soul, there was silence on the other end.  I was convinced she was thinking of just the right words of comfort.  "Didn't you fail Economics your senior year and have to go to summer school to graduate?"  I felt like I'd been punched in the gut by my own sweet, 104 lb. mother. "But that was different," I insisted.  "I didn't just forget to take 12 hours of classes."  "Same result" was all she said. It was all she needed to say.

Moms are good at putting matters into perspective and putting their children in their place.  I got over being angry and can now manage a chuckle over the situation.  Have I confessed to my son that I, too, graduated a semester behind?  Absolutely not.  Some things are just better left unsaid.

Where shall we go this year?

The 50 Best Places to Travel in 2015

Presenting 50 incredible destinations for 2015. Where will you go this year?
http://time.com/3640728/best-places-travel-2015/

A load of crap

2015 had a crappy beginning. My dog Zoey (my son's dog that I inherited to be exact) had become sick sometime during the night all over her room. I had awakened that morning in a foul mood and this discovery didn't help any.  I was a middle-age woman stuck in a dead-end job with grown children who were struggling to find their own way in life and a husband who I felt often looked at me and wondered which alien life-form had devoured my soul and was now inhabiting my body.  As I shoveled shit all morning, I couldn't help but think how this was a metaphor for my life.  I was smack-dab in the middle of a mid-life crisis.

It didn't happen overnight but developed insidiously.  My discontent (ok, whining) was verbalized to my husband and friends so often that it had become the butt of jokes at our gatherings.  "I'm so unhappy."   "What do I want to be when I grow up?" "I don't have any skills." "I'm too old to start a new career.". Wah, Wah, Wah.  Don't get me going - especially after a couple of cocktails.  I really felt I had a creative side that wasn't being tapped - you know -- the God given talent that your mom always told you was a sin not to utilize.  Guilty as charged.

The initial idea of blogging can, in some ways, be credited to my youngest son. He is a senior at a major university studying film and is immersed in the social media world. He blogs, hosts podcasts, interns and edits for a mainstream YouTube channel and has a presence on every social media outlet known to man: Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, YouTube and many more I suspect he doesn't want me to know about or follow him on. I was ironically attempting to give him career advice on doing something he loves and being able to get paid for it so it wouldn't be "work".  Somehow the conversation swung around to me and if I could do anything in the world, what would I love to do.  My answer was writing in some form or fashion.  My son's response was, "Well, why don't you?"  Good question.  The usual excuses immediately popped to mind. We have a mortgage. We're paying your way through college and all your expenses associated with college.  We want to have enough money so we never have to depend on our children for help. I'm too busy saving the world and so on and so on.  But this conversation planted a seed that was watered through subsequent conversations with family members, especially my sister-in-law Becky. She was adamant that I parlay my love of social media, my witty observations (her words not mine, but I'll take it) on people around me and my self-deprecating humour into something.  But what?

You guessed it. I am joining the 42 million other people in the world and starting a blog. My plan is to incorporate my love of travel, music, adventure, food, friends and cocktails and hopefully weave these into a few paragraphs that you won't regret losing the ten minutes it took to read. Now, we Southerners have never let the truth get in the way of a good story as Mark Twin said and I have been known to embellish here and there when recounting my adventures (like the time I told my husband I saw an anaconda in our back yard and I swear, I saw an alien spaceship when I was a child), but I promise to give you mostly facts, some good tips on places to visit and hopefully a few chuckles.

Lastly, I always have a soundtrack playing in the back of my brain and a great book on my nightstand.  My love of great music and literature can also be attributed to my Southern heritage. So included in my blog will be a song that hopefully will enhance the experience I am relaying and the name of a good book or article I can recommend. One of my goals is to stop the world from reading incredibly bad books that somehow end up on the bestsellers' list. (apparently anybody can write a book these days or a blog for that matter.)

If you have somehow managed to make it to the end of my initial blog, I thank you. Hopefully, together we can see the world with fresh eyes.

My soundtrack. See the World by Gomez
Suggested reading: my blog! (what else?)
Until next time. . . .
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKJJRnuCwF4