Forsyth and a special surprise!

As promised here are some pictures of the lovely Forsyth Park.

Here is the azalea that has the splattering of pink in the center. I can't wait to see the crepe myrtle blooming soon!

Nothing says "Spring" like a dogwood in bloom.

The southern lawn of Forsyth Park. There is a lovely sidewalk that goes down the center and is covered with a canopy of trees and Spanish Moss.

This house has beautiful wisteria that drapes all along the porch.

And no park is complete without a fountain!

I spent the weekend before last at Dad's and got to meet his new buddy, Roscoe. After the bad thunderstorm this weekend, Roscoe has been acting up a bit. It's a small rough patch, but I'm sure that, with enough love and patience, both Dad and Roscoe will survive.

But on to the best news of all...I have a new roommate! I'm pleased to introduce Harley:

She's around 6 years old and is a German Shepherd/Lab mix. In my humble opinion, she's perfect. I picked her up from the Hilton Head Humane Association on Saturday and she settled right in at home. Even during the thunder storm and tornado sirens she didn't bark or whine or anything. She needs some work on commands like "stay" but is doing great with leash training. Best of all, she's just a big love-bug! She went right up to my neighbor to get some love and wants to say "Hi" to everyone at the park. She's mellow enough to just lounge around the house when I'm cooking or reading, but doesn't stay right underfoot. I think she may need to lose a few pounds, but seems to be in good health otherwise (although she is a bit lazy, so I'm going to have to ease her into being my running buddy).

It's funny, but just having Harley at home the last two days has really helped me to finally feel settled in. I actually did some knitting on Saturday (the first crafting I've done since I moved) and baked cookies on Sunday. I knew that this was the right apartment, and felt comfortable in it, but it wasn't until I brought Harley home that it actually felt like, well, a home.

Birthdays

I've never really given birthdays a whole lot of thought. I mean, I've planned parties or made gifts for them, and I do know they tend to come around once a year. But I am not the kind of person to make a big, hairy deal about getting my way just because it is the day I was born. I like to have birthday get-togethers that focus more on my friends and relationships than on me.

So I was thinking, what does it really mean to celebrate a birthday? Here are some of the things I came up with:
~Celebrate your achievements, accomplishments or growth from the preceding year.
~Celebrate the opportunities of the year to come.
~Celebrate the relationships that you have built or maintained since last year.
~Gather loved ones close to you so you can be physically reminded of how they bless your life.

I realized that in coming up with this list, I was thinking mainly about what it means to me to celebrate my birthday. This lead me to think about how I celebrate another persons birthday:
~Do something to let then know you care (cards, gifts, visiting, calling).

Well, what do you do to celebrate a birthday when they have passed away? I was faced with this question twice this month. Well, really three times if you consider Jen's son should have been born on the 2nd: I already had the blocks cut out for the baby quilt which would have been the first of several that I would have made for him.

I thought about Jen a lot on her birthday. I remembered all the things we used to do together and all the birthdays that we celebrated, cards we sent, long phone conversations and later emails and instant messages. I called her parents, since I couldn't talk to her anymore, and I know they were probably having a lot of the same thoughts. Of course, being that we were the same age, it also made me think about my own mortality. Oddly, this is not something that usually occurs to me at my own birthday.

Wednesday was another tough day: Mom's birthday. She would have been 56 years old. Thankfully I was very busy most of the day at work, so I didn't have time to dwell too much on thoughts of missing her. Dad and Joy came up and we had dinner at my house. It was nice that none of us were alone and we could share stories about Mom. I was holding up okay until Dad started to sing "Happy Birthday."

It's hard to describe the difference between singing "Happy Birthday" about someone instead of to them. I realized that celebrating Mom's birthday is really a celebration of her life, and in turn my own. The best gift that she gave me was life, and the best gift I can continue to give her is to live it to the fullest. Sometimes that means bearing the sorrow of losing her and singing "Happy Birthday" through tears. And sometimes it will mean leaving the sorrow behind to rejoice. But it will always mean honoring her memory and legacy.

Something to smile about

Just a very brief note to share some exceedingly good news. After working really hard last year to get myself in a better financial position (which proved to be very helpful in dealing with the job loss and relocation efforts) I can finally make the following annoucement:

I am DEBT-FREE!!!

That's right, I have no outstanding debt. I do not owe any money on credit cards. My student loans were paid off last Fall. But, most importantly, I just paid off my car! My only expenses are my current living expenses, and I'm pretty cheap when it comes to those.

What better turning-30 birthday gift could I give myself than to enter this next phase of my life without the crushing weight of debt hanging over me? Not only am I debt-free, but I also have money in savings and am stashing money away for a trip to Spain in 2010 with my sister. Let me tell you, it feels really, really good. Try it, I bet you'll like it.

Stars and St. Patty's

I know I said I was going to write about the St. Patty's weekend, and I promise I will. But first I have to share a very exciting photo. This is a starfish. A real, honest-to-goodness, found it in the water at the beach still ALIVE starfish! This may not seem so exciting, but let me explain.

As a child we used to go to the beach often (one of the joys of growing up on the coast of New England). During these frequent trips, we often walked along the water's edge and explored the tidal pools. While poking around in standing water and scaring the brain-stemless wits out of periwinkles and hermit crabs, we also found masses of starfish. These amazing creatures always enthralled me. First, they are shaped like stars, and any kid will tell you how cool stars are. Second, if a leg was cut off, it would just grow back. Really! And they had all these cool tentacles on the bottom side and a really neat looking mouth. They were just awesome. But sadly, when I moved back to CT after college and finally went back to these tidal pools to relive some portion of this childhood wonder...the starfish were gone. I read up to see if there was some kind of major starfish migration. I fear that the changing environment in Long Island Sound probably had something to do with it (there is a spreading "dead zone" heading east from NY).

But here, on Tybee Island in mid-March, I found my first Georgia starfish! It had buried itself in the sand at the water's edge during low tide. The only sign it was there was a slight star-shaped pattern in the sand. When I gingerly dug my toe under the star-shaped pattern, out came the starfish. I felt like I was five again. I picked it up and felt the little tentacles wiggling on my hand. I set it back in the shallows and watched as it glided along the sand before beginning to re-bury itself. It was so neat. I also found two dead dollars and one that was still alive (but my camera batteries had died and I haven't figured out how to get the pictures off my phone yet...).

Okay, so now on to St. Patty's Day. I will preface this segment by saying "I'm not really a 'parade' kind of person" so forgive any lack of enthusiasm. I went because it seemed the thing to do in my new city.

If you didn't already know, Savannah has the second largest St. Patrick's Day Parade in the country. Now, be sure that you read that carefully: second largest. Not to be mistaken for second coolest, or second best, or second most-amazing-glad-I-stood-around-for-4-hours-to-watch-it. I think it would be better described simply as "second longest."


Joy and I grabbed a piece of curb to watch the procession. It was a bit chilly to start, but by the middle of the parade I was glad I brought my hat and sunscreen!


There were several pipe and drum groups, which was neat except that they all kinda looked the same and I really have a hard time picking out whatever tune they're playing. To me, when there is more than one piper piping at a time, it strikes me as a great impression of what I imagine a herd of horny tom-cats on a hot tin roof would sound like.


The band of lil' dancers ranked pretty high on the "Ahhh, that's so cute" scale.


The rakish rouge on the back of Keller's Flea Market pirate ship was also not so hard to look at!



You know you're in the South when a drive-in restaurant has a float in the parade...and it's one of the nicer ones.

I've never really liked the advertising campaigns that have an animal trying to entice you to eat it. There are no lack of BBQ posters with smiling pigs on them and it seems very self-defeating to me. At least this little piggy went wee-wee-wee all the way to the Piggly Wiggly (did you know the grocery store has its own theme song? I've only heard it in the parade, but if you're bored at work try googling it and let me know what you come up with).

No city parade would be complete without the Mayor, Otis Johnson.

Okay, strike my comment from before. You know you're in the South when Jesus is in your parade. I told Joy that Dad would be excited when she told him that she found Jesus on St. Patrick's Day. When he walked by near the beginning of the parade I wasn't able to get a good picture of him. Lucky for me I had my camera ready for his second coming... (no need to get upset, no Jesus' were harmed in the making of that pun)

So, I saved this one for last because I struggled with how to clearly convey the essence of this event. I'm sure you're familiar with the phrase "Kiss me, I'm Irish." Well, apparently there was a group of women who took it to be their personal mission to kiss any man or man-child who paraded by in uniform (I did notice a few women in uniform sporting kiss-marked cheeks, but I obeyed the "Don't ask, don't tell" rule). I kid you not, these kiss-ninjas were armed with whore-red lipstick and a sense of purpose: as soon as a male appeared around the bend, they lubed up their lips and poised on the sidewalk like sprinters at an Olympic starting line. They dashed between rows of marchers like rodeo stars, branding cheeks of Army Rangers, Police Pipers, high school marching bands, veterans, and Coast Guards with Betty Boop-like smooches. The picture above shows a brave Marine defending the color guard from one such kissing bandit. The Marines, it seems, were the only ones brave enough, or perhaps even strong enough, to stand up to these formidable lip-lockers. They were the few, the proud, the clean-cheeked.

The First Day of Spring

I plan to write more this weekend, when I have extended access to the Internet. But I wanted to just post a quick note to welcome Spring!

It's hard to tell that today is the first day of Spring here in Savannah because the parks have been a riot of color for at least the three weeks I've been here. The azaleas around Forsyth Park have been bursting in pinks, reds and whites and I've seen tulips and daffodils at various crossroads.

There is one bunch of azaleas in front of a house that I pass to get to Forsyth that makes me smile every time. Most of the bush is all white flowers, but down the middle is a streak of white with just a hint of light pink. It reminds me of the freckles that scatter across Reagan's nose in the summer.

My silver car has a yellow cast from all the tree pollen in the air, but luckily my allergies haven't been as bad as I feared. The grass is verdant and lush and the sky is a strikingly clear blue. Quite a change from the few tentative crocus flowers that usually mark the beginning of Spring in CT!

Tonight I head to Dad's to meet Roscoe, his Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, for the first time. Joy already warned me that I would fall in love with him. This will most likely weaken my resolve to wait 6 months before getting a dog of my own...

Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure

In light of all the other changes in my life, I decided now was a great time to make good on a promise to myself: to take part in more 5K races.

So I signed up for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. It will be held on Saturday, April 18 in Savannah (if anyone wants to come cheer me on). If you want to make a donation, feel free but not obligated: http://www.active.com/donate/komencoastalgeorgia/STyler14

I do personally know a few women who have fought breast cancer, and I believe in the importance of research and support for this cause. I have also had two little scares where I had to get breast ultrasounds for suspicious lumps, so I feel really motivated to join this race.

I haven't been exercising as regularly as I had in the past, and this is as good a reason as any to get back into it. The route goes through historic downtown and unlike Mystic, CT is virtually flat! For now, I'm easing myself back into shape by walking/jogging around beautiful Forsyth Park (pictures coming soon, I promise!).

Also, keep an eye out for upcoming St. Patrick's Day postings! Joy is coming down for the weekend and parade, so it promises to be fun.

Week One: A Smashing Success

It has now been one week and two days since I moved to Savannah, and I have to say: I LOVE IT!

The city is vibrant and charming, historic but updated. There are fun things to see and do everywhere I go. Even the very modern and somewhat bland Southside (where I work) has neat things to check out. Please don't get offended by me calling the Southside "bland" if you have any particular attachment to it. It's just that living less than a mile from the riverfront, and only about a block and a half from Forsyth Park, makes the strip malls and big box chains that dominate the Southside seem rather pale and boring by comparison.

Last night I went to Club One to see The Vagina Monologues and had a great time strolling around Bay Street before the show. I was still home at a reasonable hour, since downtown is only about 5 minutes from my house if I hit every red light. Joy is coming to visit for a few days next weekend and I can hardly wait to go exploring with her...especially for the St. Patrick's celebration!

The unpacking is going well, though slow. I only have a few hours each night to work on it, so it's taking a while. But I'm not rushing myself either. What's the hurry, I'm the only one that has to deal with living among boxes. I think that subconsciously I may be putting off unpacking for fear that my apartment will look barren once all the boxes are gone!

An interesting occurrence got me thinking the other night. I had just finished putting together my new futon, A.K.A. "Joy's bed," and decided to snap a picture of it. When I had done so, I scrolled through the other photos on my camera that I hadn't downloaded yet. It was a bit shocking to realize that it has been almost 3 months since I downloaded anything. The time frame itself is not what shocked me. It was the fact that the pictures on my camera served as a slide show of how drastically my life has changed in that short period, as illustrated below.

For starters, the oldest photos on the disk were from Thanksgiving in Montreal. Ian and I drove up to spend the holiday with Alana and Xander. It was a very stressful time for me as Mom had just gone into the hospital to be treated for the blood clots and I had nearly broken up with Ian the night before we left. But I love spending time with Alana and Xander and the trip, overall, was great. They have the kind of marriage that I long for: they are real people, each others best friends, who are so utterly perfect together. I loved talking to Alana about crafting and Xander about math, helping them pick out a Christmas tree and squeeze it into my coupe. They are just awesome and probably among the few people who could have made it bearable to be away from my family at that time.

Just after the photos from Montreal (of which I decided not to post any of me and Ian together, time to move on and all that) were pictures from the week between Mom passing and her funeral. I already mentioned before just what an amazing blessing John was for me during that time and the months that followed, but I can't say it enough. He saved me.

After the trauma of the wakes, funerals, memorials, losing my job and breaking up with Ian, the task of surviving the holidays took center stage. Dad, Joy and I didn't really know how to handle Christmas this year: ignore it completely, pretend like nothing had changed or something in between. We opted for in between. Dad and Joy picked out this little Charlie Brown-esque tree and we decorated it with one strand of lights and two ornaments. We exchanged just a couple gifts, including the few things I could find that Mom had made or bought for us. Needless to say, it was tough.

After spending several weeks at Dad's trying to sort through craft supplies and figure out what I was going to do with my life, I decided to drive back to CT, pack and get back down South quickly. The drive north was interrupted by my interview with CCCS, but was a very good chance for me to think and sort things out in my mind. I got very familiar with the I-95 scenery during my 3 trips...

From the end of November to the middle of February, I spent a total of about 3 weeks at my apartment. Sheesh. But it did give me time to visit with a lot of my really good friends who I know I will miss seeing on a regular basis. It was hard to say goodbye, seeing as I have I have lived in CT most of my life. But I know that distance alone is not going to several those those ties.

I worked my butt off to pack all my belongings into one storage cube and then had to fight to get the company to deliver it on time. As with so many things lately, it worked out in the end and Dad and I had the whole thing unpacked in about 4 hours! Unpacking all the boxes, however, will take a bit longer!

My kitchen, once nearly everything was unpacked. This really is the heart of my home and I can't rest easy until it's unpacked and set up.

The futon! It's surprisingly comfortable and I'm sure it will come in handy often. I still have a few more pieces of furniture to find, but I'm not really in a rush. I would rather wait for the right piece instead of just throw something in there. Not to mention the fact that I despise the new trend in furniture: huge, lumbering mounds of sofas and gaudy colors.

I was treated to a pleasant surprise this morning: the flowering tree in front of the house had baptised my car with snow-like petals! I took a drive to the flea market in a fruitless search for some recycled furniture, then spent a good part of the day catching up with my friend Kelly.

That visual trip through the last three months made me realize that I don't regret a single choice I've made. This is where I need to be. I feel more like myself than I have in a long time and that alone has been worth it. I love my new job and the fact that I'm closer to Dad and Joy. And I realize that the one regret I toyed with, that I didn't do this sooner, is silly. Things happen and choices are made and the most we can do is try to make the right choices at the right time.

For example, at the moment I'm sitting in Books-A-Million using the WiFi (since I don't have Internet at home!). I'm going to make the choice to grab some groceries then head home for more unpacking. But who knows what will happen...seeing as how it's about 84 degrees and sunny, I may take some time to go for a jog around the park first...