Tackle it Tuesday- The Calendar

My task today is to work on creating a calendar and schedule for myself. For the past couple of years I've been surviving with the mental calendar. Generally it works for me. I manage to make it to appointments on time and I tend to remember most events but there is this constant vague feeling of things passing me by and usually they do- the festival I wanted to attend, the free concert it would have been fun to take the kids to, etc.

My ex-husband lived by the Filofax and convinced me this was the way to go. He bought me this beautiful leather Filofax which I kept leaving in on the counter in stores. Then I went to the Palm Pilot. I figured out how to use it (no easy task) but I'd forget that the darn thing was in my bag or it needed batteries and it would sit on my shelf gathering dust. I tried computer programs but this failed also because I don't carry my computer with me all the time. I even tried this wonderful program called Back Pack which allows you to email your schedule and set up project lists and to-do lists. It's great if you don't happen to have a toddler who views your computer as a rival and won't let you near it.

I thought of getting one of those big giant dry-erase wall calendars but besides being expensive it wouldn't help me manage appointments, events, to-do lists and contacts unless it was the biggest wall calendar known to man. I don't want to run out and spend a lot of money on something that won't work so I dug deep and realized that the answer was very simple. Why not create a binder?

I love notebooks. I'm usually carrying around a couple of notebooks and I've never lost one. So I've decided to use what I already have- Windows calendar program, paper, ink and a printer. I will print out an overview calendar each month, then a weekly appointment schedule, and finally a daily sheet with my to-do list added on to this. What will make this system work for me, is that I can write on the printed sheets if some last minute comes up. Eventually, I'd like to include a weekly menu, and weekly and monthly budget in this book but that comes later.

This week will be about entering all the information I need- keeping note of school closings and events, competing soccer schedules, doctor's appointments, birthdays etc. Today I'll start on September and October and work my way to next September.

I've Returned from the Great Beyond

I'm back and I'm overwhelmed. There's nothing unusual about this. Everyone I meet these days is tired, overwhelmed, over-worked, stressed to the breaking point. I'm tired before I get out of the bed each morning as my mind runs down the list of everything that needs to be done. I feel like a crazy person standing on the shore trying to push back the tide. Well, I've decided I can't do this anymore- change has to happen now.

School starts for my kids on September 3rd and I've decided to put myself back to school (not literally but figuratively). I've always loved the thrill of the start of the school year so I decided to ride this wave of enthusiasm to change the way I'm living my life. This is no easy task since I've been running on that hamster wheel for a long long time. It won't be easy nor will it be pretty (just imagine a house during a gut renovation) but the final product is worth it.

I've decided to use the school year as my frame. Imagine if your child's teacher started off the first day of school teaching as though the kids magically spent the summer learning all the subjects for their grade. The bus ride home would be full of tears and there would be plenty of kids pleading never to go back again. This is how I generally handle changes that need to be made in my life. I jump in as though I had some magical rebirth overnight. I suddenly assume that starting on day (x) I am a well-organized machine. Then I crash and burn within two days back to running in place with no hope of getting anywhere.

My challenge for this school year is to take it slow. The first day (September 3rd) will be my beginning and it will be a gentle start, a warm-up of sorts. I'll begin the process assessing what will work to create movement. Over the course of the school year, I'll set up daily assignments and challenging projects and hopefully by the last day of school, I will graduate with honors.

I Should Be Writing

I should be writing but instead I'm writing about the fact that I should be writing. Am I suffering from early spring fever? I do believe there's a strong indication in this direction. I'm possessed with the desire to rush out into yard and begin digging and poking around in the soil. This morning it was 25 degrees when I went out for my run but my mind refuses to release the idea of sowing seeds and the delicious anxiety of waiting for those first sprouts. I want to rush to the rabbits and gophers and greet them heatrtily

I'm so anxious to begin getting out there and transforming our grassy lawn into the lush cottage garden of my dreams, that I found myself considering changing the season in my novel. The story takes place in the early fall; it's getting cold and a rough winter is on the way. How can I possibly write of winter when spring has sprung. I can directly blame nature for this particularly knotty procrastination spell I've fallen under. It was 65 degrees a couple of days ago, the birds are chirping and spring fever has taken a firm hold.

I should be writing but spring cleaning has me moving furniture, scrubbing, polishing, and tossing out things we don't need. Instead of putting butt to chair, I'm on hands and knees scrubbing scuff marks off the wood floor. I want to paint, transform the inside of the house along with the outside. How can I possibly weave the intricate plotting of a mystery novel when there are millions of color possibilities out there waiting to be explored.

Has spring fever taken hold of you?

How Far Would You Go For a Book?

Sunday's New York Times Book Review had an essay entitled "It's Not You, It's Your Books" which gave me a nice chuckle. Would I, in my single days, have given the heave-ho to someone because they didn't share my taste in books?

Growing up books were my passion. I was a voracious reader in a world where reading was a chore forced on you at school. Friends would come to my house and see the huge bookshelf stuffed with everything I could get my hands on and would always ask the same question, Did you read all of those? As soon as I discovered 19th century Russian literature when I was 12, I accepted that most people I met would have no clue about what I was reading. It didn't matter to me, reading was personal.

In my 20s, I entered the world of the literate Manhattanites. Books were as far from personal as you could get. They were advertisements. At one point, anyone who was anyone was walking around carrying copies of David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest. It didn't matter if you read it or finished it, you just had to know enough to join in the conversation. Memorizing quotes from book reviews in The New York Times and The NewYorker was a necessary component to any "serious" conversation (monologue to be more precise) plus the ability to toss in a well placed "derivative". What you read became part of any resume of accomplishments along with where you attended college, where you worked, in what neighborhood you resided, and your favorite restaurants.

I was a freakish anomaly in this group. No one ever seemed to be reading what I was reading. I was always behind the curve of the fad. Now that I think of it, I was deeply suspicious of people who read only what was currently being reviewed. Didn't these people ever wander around an old bookstore and just grab a book off the shelf just because of the strange title or because it's weathered pages were dog eared or because the dust was so thick on the book that it was like exploring an ancient tomb?

It wasn't what someone was reading that might have put me off but the attitude of the reader. Reading for pleasure was appreciated more than reading to impress. I had a boyfriend years ago who would rip off the covers from any book that he was reading because he hated to have people know what he was reading. This was New York city in the late 80's and early 90's and trouble could start just from a simple book title. He tore off the covers for protection and for privacy. I understood this. Reading is a personal journey not an advertisement. Scanning my extensive collection of books what you'll come away with is the fact that I'm curious and my tastes are eclectic, anything more requires you to get to know me. But then isn't that the whole point of dating?

Tackle It Tuesday Presents- The Blanket

I'm that rarest of knitters- a one project knitter. I must complete a project before I can begin another (which is kind of funny since I'm not like this in any other area of my life. Right now the project, I fear will never end, is this wonderful blanket: from the .

I started the blanket in August of last year while on vacation. I had this idea of snuggling under it during the long winter months. Winter has passed and I'm still knitting. Spring is here but it's still a little chilly and I'm looking for some gratification after almost 8 months of knitting.I'm determined to finish this blanket within the week. The blanket is knit in ten panels like this:

Right now I'm on the eighth panel and barring a harsh case of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome or the destructive tendencies of my toddler, I should have pictures of the finished product by next week.

Wish me luck!

Would you Jump Off Too?

Remember that annoying question your parents would throw at you when you wanted to do or have something that some other kid had? Would you jump off the (insert large structure here) if everyone else did? It was annoying and had an effectiveness of 98%. It allowed our parents a philosophical alternative than the plain old "no". From where I stand, this effective parenting tool has gone the way of the dodo bird.

About three years ago, my daughter broke her wrist. While sitting in the waiting room at the specialists office I overheard a conversation between a teenage boy (probably around 13 or 14) and his mother. He spent 15 minutes badgering his mother to upgrade his cell phone plan. It would only cost $40 more per month. What was the big deal? His mother tried to explain that if they paid that extra money then his plan would be more than his parents paid for their coverage. The young lad was not to be swayed by this. He needed the extra fifty ring-tones, the text messaging, the... the... the list ran on. His mother shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Finally he brought out the big gun, "EVERYONE ELSE HAS IT". He counted his friends on his fingers as though this were incontrovertible evidence. Before we rose to meet with the doctor, I heard the poor woman mutter, "Well if everyone else has it, let me see what I can do."

Expensive and unnecessary gadgetry have spread like a tenacious stomach virus. My son, who just turned 9, is constantly telling me about kids his age or younger who regularly come to school carrying hundreds of dollars worth of electronics. How can you possibly be expected to manage the fifteen minute ride to school without your cell phone, iPod or Nintendo DS? To these kids it's like candy, it's fun for the moment but as soon as something offering more whiz and bang comes along, it's tossed aside.

I can't fault the kids in this, after all they're just kids. They will gladly attempt to get what they can. I can blame my fellow parents who choose to raise their kids gazing over their shoulders. I'm not condemning because I know how difficult it is to navigate in a culture that blast advertising at you 24 hours a day. We're constantly being brainwashed to believe the message that purchasing=love. Just because everyone else seems to be doing it, it doesn't mean that it's a good thing, despite what advertisers would like you to believe. So if everyone else were jumping off that cliff, would you?

TV Free

I was listening to a news story on the radio yesterday about the nervousness of television network executives on their abilty to woo back viewers after the writers' strike. What scared these well-paid executives was that people just might have found other things to do during this crisis. Other things to do! The idea of this struck horror into their hearts. I was laughing.

I grew up in a house that had more televisions than people. When I walked into a room, the first thing I did was turn on a television. My childhood memories are filled with the soundtracks of sitcom theme songs. Even after all these years the music from Happy Days or The Love Boat will intrude into my thoughts. Forty years from now I may be a little foggy on the events of my life but I'll remember the theme song to Laverne and Shirley.

I possessed all your classic symptoms of addiction. I believed I was in control. I could stop anytime. I was so far gone, I didn't even know I had a problem. If you asked me, I'd tell you with all sincerity, I really didn't watch much and could turn it off whenever the mood hit (it's just that the mood seldom hit me).

That was then and this is now. Fast forward and here I am living free of network, cable and satellite. We have a television (that's singular), it's reserved for DVDs and Playstation use. I've been free for more than four years. It feels great knowing that I exist outside the reach of these network executives who are employed to make certain that my time is their time.

Contrary to a popular held belief, you can still live a fulfilling life without tuning in to Dancing with the Stars or American Idol. I'm more informed about the state of the world and the union than I ever was while viewing the evening news. I'm no hermit. I'm familiar with the latest shows and I'm content to wait until they make it to DVD and find their way to my local library or Netflix. I can watch on my own terms and free myself from getting into the what's-on-next syndrome and wasting hours on tedious commercials. And as an aside here- people spend way too much time talking about commercials.

Right now I'm just a blip on the radar of these executives. They still have a hefty supply of viewers but I'd like to see myself as one of those early pioneers who touted such silliness as organic food, alternative energy, recycling or global warming. Maybe others will discover that having other things to do isn't such a bad thing. I guess I've started my own little revolution. Who knows maybe I'll pick up some other converts along the way. So confess do you think you could ever cut the cord? If you're living free like me drop me a line and let me know your experience (you know, the strange looks and the confusion as people try to figure out just what to say next).