Catbird Scouting While Traveling

She is a friend of mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order. It's good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind.

Toni Morrison, Beloved

Last month I went on a Road Trip with some of my girlfriends. Three of those Bunco Bitches* I've known for 25 years. We had a purpose. One of those bitches recently bought an apartment in Portland for seasonal use. She wanted a car up there for her visits. Always up for an adventure, three of us volunteered to help navigate.

*For those of you new to my blog, or not aware, the Bunco Bitches are a group of 14 women that met 25 years ago at the neighborhood park. Not only new to the hood, (most of us from other parts of the country) we were also new at being moms and staying at home. We began meeting the second Tuesday night of the month, sans children, to play this stupid game called Bunco. It saved us from having to rely on babies and toddlers for keeping up our communication skills.

Another Bunco group in our neighborhood formed and those women were much nicer than us. They hugged and remembered each other's birthdays. They called themselves the Bunco Babes.  My group all looked at each other and said, "Wow, we don't do that. That must make us a bunch of bitches." Hence, the Bunco Bitches. It just stuck.

Although we haven't played Bunco in over 16 years, we still meet the second Tuesday of every month (or for an occasional weekend somewhere else) and we're still a bunch of bitches.

Back to the story, we began our trek in Los Angeles and meandered along the Pacific Coast Highway (HWY 1 and 101) through

Santa Barbara

 

Big Sur

Santa Cruz

San Francisco

the Sonoma wine country

and a sea glass beach.

 We marveled at the Avenue of the Giants and
the incredible Oregon coast

 

before driving into Portland and a little beyond.

Armed with guidebooks and maps, we didn't plan it all out and I must say, some of our spur of the  moment hotels proved rather interesting and fun. 

We stayed at The Bluebird Inn.

The Coastal Inn and Spa had an herbal store in the lobby, Korean clay on the ceiling and cell phone service if you walked behind the hotel and hung out by the herb garden. I think the hot tub was the spa part.

Our Crescent City hotel had a very organized trailer park behind it, plus, a view of the ocean.

The Fireside Inn faced the most beautiful, lava beach complete with a four-woman bench to watch the incoming tide.

Since we were cramming all four of us into one hotel room and splitting the cost, that left more room for great meals. Whether someone else made it for us 

Duck Confit

Artichokes (Artichoke capital of world nearby.)

Steamers

Best Oyster Shooters EVER!

Fish and Chips

Marionberry Crisp

Pok Pok Wings

Or we shopped and prepared it ourselves.

Leftover Pok Pok in scrambled duck eggs

What would a Bunco gathering be without wine? Okay, so we broke it up with a martini here and there.

However, road trips don't always have to end upon arriving at the final destination. 

On my last day in Portland I stood in front of my friend's apartment house while a car pulled up and stopped right in the middle of the street. Someone I'd never met before, who looked just as I knew she would, jumped out of her car to give me a warm hug.

 Yup, in the flesh -- Catbird Scout -- one of the finest essay writers I know.  Known only to me through blogging and email.

With a quick introduction and wave to my girlfriends hanging out the apartment window above, I climbed into Catbird Scout's car. Just like that.

Two people who had never met. Two people who knew each other very well.

Catbird Scout had a plan for the day. Off we went. Off as in walking my ass off - literally. That catbird scout lured me by parking at a restaurant and then walking in the other direction. I caught up to her and kept a pace I hadn't reached since my days as a sauntering jogger. By the time we finally landed back at the restaurant door, the pedometer in my pocket had registered 8800 steps toward my 10,000 daily goal (rarely reached.)

Catbird Scout and I did not lack for conversation. So quickly the time flew, the conversation fueled by topics far beyond what we already knew about one another.  Writing, teaching, family, travel, pain, sorrow, love, laughter. Even my mom. Catbird followed my mom's blog, Old? Who? Me? and they were friends as well. I found I talked of my mom as I hadn't since she died. I liked that.

By afternoon's end, I wished for more time, that we lived closer for I delighted in her company. The ease of talking and sharing with her. That she knew my mind.

Even that pedometer in my pocket was happy. With my walking in Portland that night, my little meter was acting like a jumping bean in my pocket. By day's end it registered almost 14,000 steps. A little figure next to that magic number was jumping up and down and I could hear it saying "Julie, oh Julie? If you did this everyday, you wouldn't look the way you do. "

I took offense to that. But I must say that after all the walking I did on the trip with my husband and then this trip with all my girlfriends, there does seem to be a little extra room in the ass of my shorts. I hate that. Exercise. Why does that have to be the answer?  Especially now that I'm back to my 4000-6000 step most days.

I've lost my train of thought and all my essay training is screaming at me that I really have two or three essays here and I need to pull it together. Probably not possible, but I don't want to separate these trains too much for the only complete excess in this discussion is the discussion of my ass. The rest all relates to friendship.

Especially to those that know my mind.  

Friends, be they bloggers, book clubbers, writers, men, neighbors, old classmates and old roommates, family or bitches, I'm grateful for how you share your lives and wonderment, your questions and answers, and the worlds around you. I can't imagine any journey without that.

How incredible is that.

  Thanks, Catbird Scout. Sucha and Shucka. Bohemians.

Thanks Bunco women. Enjoyed the ride.

Update on the Midlife Jobhunter

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?  

Satchel Paige

Time once again to add a year to the number in my blog header. Fifty-five no longer suffices, unless I lie. I'm not a very good liar. In fact, when I try to lie, my forehead tends to become a flashing neon

 She's Lying!

Here I am at my birthday a few weeks ago.

All my life, not being a good liar has hindered my growth.  Means I step on my foot, a lot, when someone asks my opinion. Even the fiction I write comes from life and not much made up. Perhaps why Science Fiction and Fantasy aren't my genres and personal essay is much easier for me.

I am now 56.  This getting older has hit me. Perhaps because this birthday my mom and dad weren't around to remind me I'm someone's child. My husband is after me to plan for retirement and I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

But Midlife Jobhunter? What was I thinking four years ago when I began this venue? I was 52. I honestly considered myself mid-life.  I'm not certain I'll make it to 104. And now, 112?

Do I change the title of my blog? I've considered a few.

Back When I Was Skinny
What's Ahead?
Where Did the Time Go?
How Can I Be 56? (Which of course will change every year.)
The Reluctant Matriarch
The Old Bitch
The Flower's Dropping her Petals
Somebody Pluck her Chin Hairs
Autumn Strikes
The Invisible Woman
The Youthful Elder

You may have noticed, I've also been fiddling with the blog's design. Not a great amount of time invested there as I'm not certain what I'm seeking. As usual.

I'm not up for beginning an entirely new blog and leaving this one behind. In the blog world, Midlife Jobhunter is who I am. Perhaps clinging to the word midlife brings me comfort.  (I must admit that it took me about five minutes to come up with that name when I began, but that's what I believed I was.)

From its early beginning of a woman in a panic, frightened of the world ahead, I must say I'm quite surprised at where Midlife Jobhunter is now. As well as where she isn't. My husband's company came around and the fear of its demise passed. I've managed to make a little money by utilizing some of my old skills - teaching, reading, and editing. I make about a dollar two ninety-eight an hour doing each. Not quite a lucrative career.

I had the crappiest job of my life - scoring state required test essays. Been chewed up and spit out by middle and high school students while substitute teaching--although discovered I carry quite a big stick so students need to pack a lunch if they want to take me on. (Raising three boys had something to do with that.) I can be any kind of editor someone wants me to be, yet still have trouble editing my own work.

I'm still the happiest when sitting on my bed, surrounded by my research and thoughts, my backyard my view if I should look up while plunking away on my laptop. Creating.

As for the followers I've met on this wandering? You are incredible people. Real people. Smart people. Creative people. Most interesting to have followed your paths as you followed mine. As my blog segued beyond jobhunting into everything from weddings, funerals, hangovers, travels, writing and reading, bird watching, and who knows where else, I have enjoyed following your journeys. Sharing your intimacies, your fears, your joys, your lives.

So, what is this about? Hell if I know. It's almost the end of August and I need another post so I'll have two this month.

Honestly, though. Have any of you considered changing the name of your blog? Did you worry about your followers finding you? I don't plan on giving up blogging, but does a 56 year old woman still have credibility as a Midlife Jobhunter? Does it matter?

The Blogger's Joy

Praise the bridge that carried you over.

George Colman

Why do I blog? Why do I wonder how those I've met in the blog world fare in their days? Why do I write to those who have not posted in some time to see how life goes?

Perhaps because they have continual faith in me, despite my absences and often lack of individual thankfulness for their comments. Despite my inconsistent visits to their home pages.

Why do I blog? Because when I have a totally crappy day and the audacity to write about it, YOU all write to me. You reassure me. You let me know you are out there. (Even though you may have had an equally or completely worse day.)

That's why I blog. Not for what I get, but what I might give when I'm able to do that. Not to mention I find it fascinating how others live their lives. Also, how fun to read when bloggers get together from afar.

Several of my blogger friends gathered in the photo above. Lovely women, all of them, in attendance at my son's wedding last April.

On the left, Kimber, The Fragrant Liar, the "You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille" friend of mine who relocated to Florida in June. On my other side, Bernie, that old broad from Wisconsin at Old?Who? Me? and then Beth at The Busy Traveler, the talented chemical engineer turned writer who travels much too much and sends my jealous meter off the chart.

As for that old broad in Wisconsin, I'm headed up there on Saturday to celebrate her 85th birthday. Feel free to wish her a happy day. I'll be freezing my big Texas butt off in the frigid cold that has descended on that state, because I'm visiting, I'm sure. Believe it or not, there is no Packer game this weekend. Is there no mercy for a long-time fan?

Next post should arrive upon my return, Old? Who? Me? accompanying me for a Texas stay.

Hence, let us not underestimate ourselves. I have followed many of you for almost two years. Community. I thank you for responding when in my dumps and in my highs and middling. I appreciate your comments and suggestions.

You will have that backing with me, also. More important, as a reader for your most lovely essays of norm, and adventure. This roadtrip of the Midlife Jobhunter has been most interesting even though I'm not certain I've metered much mileage yet.

I Got Nothin'

I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells.

Theodore Geisel

I'm overdue for a post. I'm not even finished writing or visiting all those who left fascinating and most appreciated comments on my last post, but post I must and for my next entry? I got nothin'.

My oldest son, Jacob, walked in a few minutes ago. Caught me taking pictures of my lists which float around in the disorganized muck of my household. Explained to him I planned to use my 'Things to Do' as an excuse for not writing something better.

His reply?

"You can't force a blog post, Mom."

Hmmph. When did he get so smart?

However, now that I have the photos uploaded, I have an idea. Do my lists look like yours?

I'm thinking you are better organized. For if you focus on individual items on these pages like Find a real job or Write resume, you will also find:

Dental appointment
Kill cat for peeing on bathroom rug
Order announcements for Jordan's college graduation

in the midst of

Work out at YMCA
Finish novel
Write non-fiction book proposal

I ask you? What are the chances someone won't need another dental appointment before that novel is done? Or that this list will be around long enough for me to switch Jordan's name to Ian, who begins college in the fall? Or that the cat will even come home after I launched her ass out the back door? (Gag me. YMCA on there again?)

I must be honest. Several checklists hide in the dialogue of my journal, which is sort of a joke to myself. I don't go back and read my journal pages, therefore, whatever I tally there is lost forever. Also not included are the litany of duties I compose during my free hour while substitute teaching. When the last bell rings, I bunch those pages up and float them onto the floor to mingle among the daily handouts the students have left in a similar manner.

I also confess to little notes I leave myself regarding really important things that require immediate attention. Like these.

Notice the olive oil stain. Fresh, of course.

Somewhere I have a list of future blog posts. Not sure where that is right now.

As to that son of mine? Hahaha! I think I just forced a blog post after all!

Teach you to challenge me.

If by chance I haven't found my blog list by February 14th - here's to y'all.

Milestone for the Humbled Midlife Jobhunter

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.

Marcel Proust

I found it rather poignant to have noticed at this late hour that I have 100 posts and 150 followers. How cool is that. I should be in bed but as with most of my late nights, I find the most interesting people out there in this world. For that, I am grateful.

When I began this blog, I had no idea where it might lead or even why I started it. Set it up rather casually, however, I no longer take it casually. I have met the most incredible people, all with their own stories, proclivities, talents, insights, challenges, hope, and expertise. What a fine group of people you are. I thank you for the opportunity to join in your words and lives.

Please click on all lines and phrases below to take a most incredible journey through life, living, eating, and possibly finding camaraderie in a difficult world. I know I have missed many of you due to the late hour. Gladly there are more milestones to come for recognition. Meanwhile, click on the underlined sentence fragment to get to the site.

from Istanbul, allowing us to tour a fascinating part of the world,

in England letting us live the life of a farmer with a most intelligent wife

an 84 year old women in Green Bay, Wisconsin writing her heart about life and past

moms living through the changes with kids,

and even more kids and jobhunter as well,

book readers, more book readers, lions on the porch

missing person searches with the occasional glimpse of the dad in love with his kids

comics, scorpions, and guy stuff in Arizona

just an all and out liar, and a lovely friend

a writer that offers a mix of ideas and adds the Indian culture

one women who can lose weight, that I envy,

a devoted grandmother and wife who shares tales of her past and present

a serious memoirist

a Gumbo Writer and a

talented writer and fellow night owl

One finding a way to make to the world a better place

a studier of the writing craft

one who may not want to be on her own, but now is, in the cold, and doing well.

one who finds footprints in the snow

one whose incredible photographs and dedication to other writers is most welcome

poets through back doors

the hatching writer

a broad with a smart mouth

a writer honing the craft and discovering the publishing world

soul searchers on the road

one who feed us and lets us party ala Mardi Gras and gumbo

rebels with causes

a tart with a sense of humor

one who teaches Up North, there, and makes us laugh with her insights

one who teaches, raise kids, and reaches out from an island

I've tired out on the evening and have missed many of you, but thank you for making this blog experience most interesting. I am impressed with this opportunity and the resurgence of people needing and "listening" to people.

How can a year and 100 posts have passed so quickly? Onward we march. May the force be with us!

For Janine, and Many More

The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.

Frederick Buechner

Today I send special thoughts out to a lovely woman. Janine at Sniffles and Smiles is in need of thoughts and prayers today as she faces surgery, one of many.

When Janine first visited my blog, I was enamoured by her positive and friendly manner. Her writing is most impressive and I await her Saturday posts with gratitude.

Years ago, when I first began the practice of serious writing, I participated in many online classes in personal essay, short story, etc. Intrigued me to discover the intimacy developed between writers through our sharing and trust. Never occurred to me that the only thing missing was actually having met them in person. Seemed like they lived next door.

Once at a writing conference, I began a conversation with the woman sitting next to me. She said something that struck me as familiar. I glanced at her name tag to discover she was indeed familiar. That I knew many of her secret thoughts and desires, much about her family and dreams. That we had crossed paths in several places in the neighborhood of our real world never knowing we had knowledge of such private details about one another.

So goes the world of blogging. We share ourselves in a manner that opens our minds to new thoughts, ideas, and opinions while handing out parts of ourselves. We learn the heart of some that perhaps the people who live in our own homes don't know. I'm grateful for that venue.

Today, I consider Janine and other blogging friends in need of care, along with many others in my visual "family" that I offer my deliberate attention.

P.S. Please visit Teacher's Pet for a note from Janine.

Lost in the Forest

One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries.

A.A. Milne

While blogging seriously (as opposed to aimless meandering) I respond to comments, read the entries of those I follow, and make as witty or understanding a comment as I can muster. Every time I think I'm ahead of the game, I check my blog rolls and discover not just one of you, but most of you, have already posted a new essay. When do you people pee?

My organizational skills are challenged. I'm never first in line with a new post for more than a few seconds. I can't keep up with the comments. But the twining road through the forest of blog magnetism doesn't have a definite path. I find walking deeper into the forest without a compass quite enjoyable.

I'm becoming a blog slut. I want to follow everyone. From the farms in Iowa to fellow writers and avid book readers, travelers, idea gatherers, and the world's vast cultures and intricacies, if only... if only this wasn't such a good way to entertain myself and learn about the world.

Probably not the best thing for all the writing I'm not producing, the books I'm not reading, or my future ventures in life that I struggle to pinpoint. Finding a path out of the forest to occasionally view the sky or find a road is definitely a necessary endeavor. I so hate reality. But how else will I find my way back into the woods?

Alas, from the sunshine on my face from the open sky, a belated thank you to Missy at Missy's Book Nook for awarding me the Humane Award. I am humbly honored.


"The Humane Award is in order to honor certain bloggers that I feel are kindhearted individuals. They regularly take part in my blog and always leave the sweetest comments. If it wasn’t for them, my site would just be an ordinary book review blog. Their blogs are also amazing and are tastefully done on a daily basis. I thank them and look forward to our growing friendships through the blog world.”

If you're seeking a good book, Missy has the latest on what's out there to satisfy your reading tastes. She posts every day and must read 5000 words a minute. Also, authors - she is happy to review your book. Check out her site, and Missy? I'm thinking your organizational skills are NOT wandering aimlessly in the forest.

To award this to my favorite bloggers? Can't do it. I'd be all over the world, for days, choosing. Please take this lovely award and pass it on to your favorite readers and followers.

See y'all in the forest.