I saw a post asking what feminists’ think about the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. I first had to ask myself whether I was a feminist. In my younger days, my roommate and I answered yes in a classroom of women who answered no. A non feminist at an all women’s college?   Yes, it happens. We only felt we were feminists because we believed in a woman’s right to choose her path in life. My roommate and I both ended up having law degrees. She is a founding partner in her own firm, I am a housewife. We have chosen different paths. It is this type of feminist who answers the quandary posed by the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.

When I was younger I reveled in the beauty and sexuality the show represents. The models looked like they were having fun and well; the men’s enjoyment at the parade of young, long, lanky women in underwear was obvious. Obvious to even a young wife who watched with her husband and considered which “looks” might be appealing. As I have aged, I am almost fifty; I no longer watch the show. It no longer inspires the same feeling of fun and frolic it once did. I wonder if I have lost the sexual spark the show should inspire or have I begun to see the problems in a nationally televised lingerie show? Have I become jealous or merely wise?

Jealously is not allowed. See I have one daughter who could walk the runway. I have been surrounded by young women who look better than the models for quite some time. They are beautiful. They are long, lanky and young. So young. I watch the similar young women to the girls on the runway walk into the pool and turn heads, then fight their younger sister’s over the front seat. I watch these young women handle adult jobs, and then need their “mommy” to make dinner. I see how young these women are, and how young 21 really is.

I went to a salon school to have my hair done. There I saw young women who made my daughters look like children, almost. Youth was so evident, even if children and bills were involved. These women were dealing with the challenges of adulthood, parenthood, with the attitudes shown by my children, but the responsibilities I experience. Their energy was amazing, but I shifted into my “mom” role almost immediately. I was amazed at what they had to deal with. I was amazed they could. I am not really sure they can, because see, they let me see their lives. I was “mom” and quite frankly I was afraid for them.

These are the young women who model Victoria’s Secret’s product. I believe it is because they are the only ones who can. The older models lose their joy. They look uncomfortable. You can see it on TV. They no longer exude the “good time” emotion the younger women exhibit. The men do not see it right away. I do. Who wants’ to watch a woman look uncomfortable modeling underwear? If you do enjoy the model’s discomfort, well that is an unpleasant path I do not want to pursue.

I do not want my daughter to pursue it either. As one ages one becomes aware of the multiple layers of sexual thought and enjoyment. The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show has been exploring these layers throughout the years. An old time viewer like me sees the hints of religious music, leather and lace and fantasy. I have watched the show bounce from fun to slightly odd. I have watched the models begin to look uncomfortable. I do not want to watch any longer.  I do not want to watch young women experiencing euphoria that cannot be maintained as she ages. You start to get the feeling the enjoyment is premised on ignorance, or innocence. You start to get the feeling these young women are being used.

Now let’s be realistic, these women are paid huge amounts of money to parade down the runway in next to nothing. These women are at the top of their field, modeling, and they are utilizing their beauty in the most financially productive way our culture allows. Being a Victoria’s Secret Model is a coveted position by models and mortals alike. I am looking at their real life counterparts and sometimes even at them. I watched one of the models on television soon after the fashion show. Television is supposed to put weight on an individual, but this woman looked emaciated. I had to wonder where all the men were who celebrated her sexuality? She looked freakish, her high cheek bones too prominent and her body frighteningly thin. Many women would have reveled at her appearance, and I think the TV people did. I wanted to feed her.  I wanted to contact Victoria’s Secret, which is headquartered in my town, and scream “feed her!” I chose not to.

So you see I have been seeing Victoria’s Secret in many ways for a long time. I used to go to a club where I saw the “looks” of the fashion show quite some time before the show was aired. No, I never saw wings but I saw themes, model duplicates and maybe even a model or two. I would see the seeds of the catalogues before they were ever published. I have been watching the show for a long time.

I do not want to watch any longer. I do not begrudge the basic biological truths this show represents. I do not want to stifle sexuality, especially a young woman’s sexuality. I used to be that young woman. I think a woman reveling in her own beauty is a woman exploring one of the most powerful assets she has. I just know young women are so much more. Maybe that is why I do not want to watch any longer. I do not want to see how fleeting beauty and youth really are.

I know I will still review the show when it is over. I will go through the pictures, assess the lingerie and think about the messages imparted by the show, the messages underlying the performance. I will look at the production and the fashion presented. See Fashion is my abusive boyfriend. My love, my hate. It inspires me while I absorb its message that I will never be thin enough or beautiful enough to be on the stage. Fashion is part of me. Maybe that is why I can no longer watch. I know how the relationship ends.

So my feminist perspective?  I want to take the girls to an amusement park and let them eat whatever they want. But maybe that is just the mom in me talking. Or maybe it is mom, the feminist.

 

Mass Media Reflections

Well hello! I know it has been awhile but I have been busy. We got an Irish Setter puppy. It is as if a young child has moved into the house, demanding attention from the moment he awakens to the moment he falls asleep. Irish Setters are highly emotive, demanding, but worth the effort.

I dropped by to share a story. A prominent, retired marketing executive from a local well known company started up a Facebook / website page dedicated to women who have changed the world. This man used to live behind me though I am not sure we ever actually met. We certainly had been at the same places at the same time but a formal introduction never occurred. He came to Columbus to jump start his new project and everyone who is anyone attended. I of course did not.  I was aware of the event; in that strange way I am often aware of community events I rarely attend. Because I was aware of this site’s existence I clicked “like: on the Facebook page. Thought I would see if the old guy (he is 80) still had his marketing magic, The posts would float by on my Facebook feed and I must admit I read a few and learned a bit about women’s history. Then I commented on a post.

I make a distinction between knowing someone and merely having been around someone. I think an actual introduction or conversation is necessary to claim you know someone. This does not mean I do not know who people are, and they know who I am.  Well this gentleman obviously remembered me. He posted a link to a current soft porn best seller that is the “must read” book of the week. Huge sales, controversial subject, lots of press but basically soft porn, and not that great of porn from the reviews I have read. I challenged his post. Women of achievement are not normally into promoting porn, even if it was written by a woman. I  questioned why the link was included, thinking I would be another voice in the conversation. I became the target.

The marketing guru attacked me. Asked why I had not added a story to his site. He ignored the subject and attacked me as an individual. The post was personal and reflected the author's awareness of my identity. It was nasty, mean and uncalled for. Not out of character for this individual or his crowd, but unprofessional never the less. I unsubscribed and in a digital way, “walked out the door.”

Well this site popped up in my search box. I decided to see how his site was doing. Given the type of local people he had at the kickoff event and his level of experience, his site does not appear to be a resounding success. Now if local media were reporting this story the site would be described in glowing terms and a reader would think it was the next pet rock. It has 185 fans. In the Internet world 185 fans is nothing. The site has gone to a woman focused magazine, recycling existing web content with very little conversation, historical perspective or personal narratives. To put this in perspective, my dog, Henry has over a 1000 twitter followers and his posts concern trips to the dog park and bad hair days. I have a degree in communications but I never was a marketing guru nor even a marketing exec. Most observers would describe this as an "epic fail."

Yes, I am taking a bit of malicious amusement in this site’s failure. It may be a sleeper site and take off later but as of yesterday only 185 people are following it and I am not one of them. The concept of welcoming only the “right people” to your marketing party takes another hit in the gut. It used to be a tried and true method of generating interest in a product, but that was before the Internet.  A wiser choice in these days of instant Facebook and Internet referrals  and information sharing is to appreciate all your customers not just the “right people.” Just a thought.

Musing on Art

I went to the Museum. Yes, Bill finally agreed to accompany me to the Columbus Museum of Art. It has only been fifteen years at least since we went to the Museum. Bill, my husband, is not big on ART but he has gone to a gallery and the Museum in the last six months. This is a big change. He has steadfastly refused to attend most ART related venues for an extended period of time. Since I do not want to go alone, I normally drive around and look at gallery windows or public outdoor displays to get a weekly ART fix. Sunday mornings are normally reserved for ART.

 The funny thing is, an outsider looking in would think he was the ART lover in the family. He has actually purchased ART. We have several original pieces of ART hanging on our walls and squirreled away in folders. Most of my married life has been about accommodating these framed masterpieces as I continually reconfigure my home décor. I have purchased one item at an art fair around 25 years ago. It was a ceramic kitchen utensil holder and it cost thirty dollars. I was a student at the time so thirty dollars was a significant purchase. I used to point it out to people and say, “look I bought ART.” I gave it away years ago.

You may be suspecting I have an ambivalent relationship with ART. You are so correct. ART is pretensions and snobby and its sole purpose in life is to make other people feel bad.  I have problems with the Business of ART. It sells itself as an investment when most times the only part of the purchase worth anything is the frame. I have tried to sell my husband’s great art investments; I know art like jewelry is often not worth the insurance you pay on it. In fact I get so enraged at the Business of ART I go into a full body, energizing, blood pumping snit. The Business of ART is about status and condescension.  My anger at the Business of ART keeps me at a distance from the local “arty farty” community. 

I cannot tolerate the smug attitude of the art community that awards pretension and destroys talent. Art has always been a rigged game. A wealthy patron elevates an artist of average talent to a place of influence while true talent fades away. Art has always been an activity for the privileged, and the privileged want their status to be recognized and bowed to.  When I was younger I always felt bad at ART events. I felt uneducated, on the outside of the art community. I could never afford the art displayed in the galleries and the arty crowd made sure I knew it, all the while conveying the thought that my opinion did not matter since I was merely an uneducated clod.  I could educate myself so I did. A little education taught me what the ART business is all about and it is not always about supporting talent.  I now know talent, is not always the reason for an artist's financial success. Luck, contacts, influence, a patron have more to do with a career as an artist than talent. The Business of ART is about providing the wealthy with something to spend their money on while providing a veneer of culture. I do not like the Business of ART and ART knows of my contempt. It is obvious I need to have some better ART experiences, but so often the arts community believes it's own PR. I am not holding my breath for the business of ART to change.

This does not change the fact I am the one who enjoys art in our family. Art is about creativity, talent and vision.  It is about the mixing and matching of colors and textures to create an impression that creates an impact. Sometimes art is about making a statement, other times it is about creating emotion or merely recreating what the artist is seeing or feeling. Art often makes a person think, see a new connection and view the world in new ways. I need Art in my life but I think I will leave ART where it belongs, somewhere  I am not. I will leave it to "them" to hob and nob and attend events to support the arts.  I will get my fix in storefront windows, on the street and online.  Maybe another visit to a museum, where there are no price tags or condescending gallery employees. A visit where I can laugh at the absurdity of what some call art while marveling at the beauty created by true talent.  I think I should avoid the docents at the museum-I think they hang out with the arty farty crowd and you do not even want to get me started on interpretative art history.

Watching the World

I used to read multiple newspapers every day. More accurately I skimmed them, turning the pages and scanning the headlines, seeking the articles that satisfied my curiosity.  I choose news sources from around the country, gaining a National perspective on issues. I did not wallow in parochialism.  I looked at the big picture and found the view disturbing.

Watching events unfold across our Nation brings with it uncomfortable conclusions. Today information is disseminated in an instant, due to the Internet and technological advances.  I watched the National scene when the Internet was still in its infancy. Newspapers, television and magazines were the best sources for news, even though the information was a bit delayed by publication and distribution schedules.  The delay allowed a viewer to watch as a series of events unfold in an industry. The first time I saw an accident occur in multiple places but within the same industry it was a bit horrifying. I immediately thought “terrorism.” This was before 9/11 so most people ridiculed my horrified conclusion. I sought other explanations; product failure, human error, or coincidence to explain how similar accidents occurred in similar industries, sequentially, throughout the country.  Eventually I reached a point where I merely thought, “Well it is blow up a generator month” and kept my conclusions as to causation to myself.  I could not do anything about the events so I allowed a coldness to set in and continued to merely watch horrific events unfold, nationally.

On days when human behavior was my focus I merely laughed as I would watch business leaders get caught up in a trend.  Sometimes it would appear it was the month to “Fire the CEO” or “Redesign Logos” or “Layoff the workforce.” One business leader after another would jump on the bandwagon, no matter what tune was playing. I would muse, “Is this business leader aware he is merely following the trend or is he making a good business decision for his company?” More times than not the business leaders who refused to follow the trend revealed the best judgment.  One thing became clear; by watching behavior a reader could begin to assess the culture of a company and the mindset of management.  Companies that engaged in similar behavior, in a certain time period, often had similar business cultures.  It became obvious who followed the same drummer and who did not.

It is easier to watch and understand trends develop in behavior because most people accept ideas, like fashion, travel.  In my parent’s day, what was worn in New York would take several years to become fashionable in Columbus, Ohio.  A behavior or thought (zeitgeist) may have taken as long as a decade to permeate the interior of this great country.  It gave people time to adjust. That time is gone today.  Today new ideas, fashion and business trends are disseminated internationally, instantly via the Internet and television. Of course the mere availability of the information does not mean it is being received.  That is where people like me come into play.

I still read vast amounts of news from a variety of sources. I also read on a wide variety of topics. I used to become frustrated when individuals refused to acknowledge trends or behavior patterns. They could not comprehend, and refused to believe, that they were being influenced by outside sources. That their thoughts and actions were not original and independent but the result of a kind of “thought osmosis” that occurs when ideas and trends travel.  Parochialism does that.  I have since grown to understand that most people do not expose themselves to the width or depth of information I take for granted each day.  People cannot see the big picture because they never look.  They do not analyze how their local community or individual behavior is merely reflective of a growing trend or movement.  They are uneducated and when I speak of influences they do not have a clue as to what I am talking about.  Some of these uneducated individuals have rather impressive educational credentials. Many do well in their parochial ponds. It is not until they enter a larger pond, or ocean, that they realize parochialism only works if you are parochial.  By the time these individuals understand me and my viewpoint, I have moved on due to frustration and yes, arrogance.  Many times I am just tired of being told I do not know what I am talking about or having to educate my audience.

So I am not interested in “relaxing”, a recent suggestion, when I respond to major world events that reflect great evil in our society. My head has been out of the sand for too long. I see trends and influences affecting our country right now that are frightening. I am not alone, but my triggers may be different.  I do not get caught up in the 2012 frenzy, I revel in it. When the local sports team is revealed to be corrupt, I wonder why it took so long for officials to notice. When the supporters of Presidential candidates cheer the historic number of executions of convicted death row inmates, I am offended. When these same people cheer the thought of the death of uninsured, ill members of our community, I notice.  When the Pope is sued in International Court for allowing the systemic abuse of children I am uncomfortable, especially when there is significant evidence to support the claims. When everything occurs in a short time frame, I wonder if society is on the brink of falling into the evil abyss.

 The imagery of “Good v. Evil” is currently being used pervasively throughout our mass media and culture. What are worse are the real monsters, those without morals, have begun to show their faces: in sports, in politics, in religion and in business. Those of us who are immersed in media and culture see when the monsters reveal themselves. No matter how must spin is put on the event later, instant replay allows us to see the coaches lie, the politician’s expression of hate, and the businessman’s all consuming greed, again and again. While I watch all of the different revelations of character, or lack thereof, I must remember the vast majority of people do not. Most people do not follow the world as I do so most people do not see the monsters in a huge cross section of our society. Furthermore the monsters are allowing the viewing public to see they are at best amoral and at worst evil. It is as if we are being given a knowing choice between good or evil.

 The younger generations are aware of more issues than their elders. They have been raised with media immersion as a norm and are used to processing huge amount of information on a daily basis. The historical context is what is often missing from their world view.  They do not see the patterns of history being repeated. Too often, this group that is most informed ,does not have the historical or cultural background or experience to immediately analyze all of the information they are seeing. This comes with age, experience or the study of history. The older generation, beginning to immerse themselves in the media flow, are all too often are overwhelmed by the amount of information available.  Experience can also lead to complacency, since an experienced reader may dismiss patterns of events thinking, “This is nothing new, we have been through this before.”  This analysis has the flaw of not recognizing that the world has never been like this before. Information has never traveled so far and so fast in the history of mankind. So while patterns of behavior may be the same, the mere number of people who are aware of anything and the speed in which this knowledge travels, is new.

Facebook allows us to see how fast an idea can move beyond a small group of people into the International population. Watch how a simple game of posting a status or video can go “viral.” Within a short period of time, a viral posting moves beyond one group of people into the general populace. People who in the past may not have been exposed to an idea, because of education, culture or location, now join the majority in a fraction of a second. Zeitgeist can and is watched, in real time, on a laptop, without leaving home.

 Right now the zeitgeist of the country is a little scary to watch. I comfort myself with the thought that those of us who watch the world, through a variety of lenses, are not the norm nor alone.  See people who pay attention to the world now can find each other, in comment sections or on websites. It is a bit easier to find others who understand National and International viewpoints. I remind myself that we are more informed than most and our early conclusions may be inaccurate. While we can watch the trends developing, there is no guarantee the trends will take hold, or go viral. The gathering storm is just as likely to pass by as it is to wreak havoc.  But at least we know a great many more people are watching history unfold every day. More people are taking the pulse of the nation and the world without having to wait for a historian, newspaper editor or community leader to frame the issues.  Individuals are watching and analyzing as history occurs, in real time, without filters. This is a good thing since communities do not have time to adjust to new ideas, any longer.

Appropriate Clothing

Appropriate Clothing

While pursuing Facebook I ran into a post regarding the upscale clothing store, J. Crew.  My Facebook friend was positive he was not part of the store’s demographic.   I immediately latched onto the demographic element of his posting, though I was the only participant to do so.  I actually found a demographic breakdown of J Crew on the web and found its average buyer is 41, owns a home and has an income over 70,000 a year.  Obviously I also am no longer part of J. Crew demographic, though in moments of delusion I can rationalize that an average is not a median age.

My mind went in this direction because, well, I am a closet retail junkie. Several years ago I did a lot of reading, watching and analyzing of the retail industry. I have limited actual experience but vast academic knowledge of a variety of retail topics. I think I was a retailer in a past life but then I must have had several past lives; last week I thought I had been an investigative reporter.  I recently read that a growing trend among the next generation is to become experts in a field without formal training. Well I am a bit ahead of the trend since I have done this in a variety of fields over the years. That liberal arts education pays off again. Trends, by the way, are a big topic in the retail industry.

 I began to evaluate the target market of J.Crew and found I was a bit too old for their product.  This in spite of the publicity the store has gained from its most famous customer, First Lady Michelle Obama, who is a bit older than I am. The issue of “appropriate clothing” reared its ugly head in my mind once again.  

The Baby Boom culture has done wonders at delaying age. If fitness and nutrition do not work, plastic and liposuction get the job done. Television shows us mothers and daughters wearing each other’s clothing, the mother glowing with accomplishment. Life is not like television and most teenage daughters ( I have/had two) will immediately toss any item her mother designates as “cute.” This immediate hatred also works with music, TV, movies or any life suggestions. Once your teen has forgotten it was her mother who recommended something, they buy it, watch it and embrace the concept.  Mom finally learns to not recommend anything, until her darlings begin calling her Mommy. This is the point where gentle suggestions can be made.

Mothers, in their quest for youth, sometimes forget they are “Mom.” The classic example is the mother who wears suggestive clothing to her adolescent boy’s school events. The boys remember; my husband does after forty years. Another lapse is wearing your daughter’s clothing to a mixed event, like a graduation party.  I have never seen my daughter, and her friends, so disturbed as when a friend’s mother wore her daughter’s clothing to a graduation party. All the kids could say was the whole experience was disturbing, and in teen talk, “So Wrong.” There is a time and a place for everything, including being Mom instead of needing to say, “I am a vibrant woman.” Obviously this lesson had yet to be learned by one woman of my acquaintance.

This is the context I address the “appropriate clothing” dilemma. There are many brands that market to a wide range of age groups.  A notable brand is “Lilly Pulitzer.” Their FB page glorifies the child, maiden, woman and grandmother who wear “Lilly.” I was around when “Lilly” made her comeback, twenty years ago, I could not afford “Lilly” then but I still want to wear this brand.  I want to buy a closet full of the dresses for myself, my daughters and any little girl I happen to come across. This type of marketing is rare. I do not have a pair of UGGS. My daughters needed me to not buy them. So I passed. Knowing how young women respond when “Mom” intrudes on their turf, I have “passed” on a fair amount of fashion choices. My eldest daughter revels in our matching sweatshirts, acquired at a mother’s sorority weekend.  It took many years for this transition to take place. She can now wear the same sweatshirt as “Mom.” My younger daughter is still appalled by the idea.

I never want to be the woman who is trying to compete with her daughter. I have seen (and maybe experienced) the effects when women compete with other women years their junior in fashion or beauty. Let’s be honest, plastic cannot compare to real youth. When real youth is desired, maturity walks out the door, recognizing a futile battle.  So what clothes should clothe my wisdom? I am not sure. If they fit, I am probably in the J. Crew demographics. I think I will pass. What I wear in public, when I actually make an effort, (totally different blog-ever heard of passive aggression?) should reflect who I am, a mature woman.

I may have out grown a lot of different retailers. Please note; I already have the short suit pants the Wall Street Journal was showing in its last fashion issue, not to mention the wide variety of PJ’s shown on Haute Couture runways. (I guess the fashion mavens finally realized there is no reason to get dressed.) Please, of course I did not buy from the latest collections. Some items I have, and my men’s suit pants fit me fine. Passing on J.Crew is no sacrifice. Hear Mrs. Obama has some pretty good designers working for her these days. My advice, skip the PJ’s outside of the White House. Let’s leave the rest to the kids.

Movin On

Moving On

I feel the need to wax poetic on the nature of life. Life is often described as a path or a road. Life is described as a journey to some vaguely defined destination. Some take the path less traveled while most people stay on the crowded freeway of life, judging progress by comparing their position to that of their peers.  I feel that I am in a permanent traffic jam on the freeway of life, so I turn off the freeway and opt for the road less traveled. Even so, sometimes the two paths intersect, giving me a view into the lives of others I have met along the way. The choice of which road to follow rears its head once again. I am looking around, comparing and contrasting, and trying to decide again, what path to take; thus the need to think about the meaning of life, and what kind of life has meaning for me.

My youngest child will go off to college this fall. She assures me my life will have no meaning or purpose once she leaves for school. I tell her she may be incorrect, but due to her anxiety about the changes occurring in her life, I do not discuss the changes occurring in mine. I think it would be “bad parenting” to tell her I feel like running around yelling “YEAH” on a regular basis. She might think I will not miss her. I will. I have already realized my role as “Mommy” never ends, though my experience with my elder daughter (entering her third year of college) has taught me the role evolves.  Do not worry; “Mommy” is still in the house but “Kelly” has begun making an appearance more often.

My roles in life have never been fully integrated.  In my role as “Mom” I attended school functions and behaved appropriately.  The fact I drove around the block blaring ACDC before walking in the door did not need to be shared with my children. I needed to combat the sense of frustration I felt entering my children’s high school, my Alma Mater.  Walking through the doors often caused every fiber of my being to scream in protest at the same crap I saw as a high school student years ago.  I needed to shift into my “Mom” role before walking in the door.  I do not regret sending my children to my old high school, it is still a good school and my children are not duplicates of me. It is interesting that neither of my children feels much fondness for our Alma Mater, but then they are my children. Needless to say I am not sorry to leave BHHS behind me once again.

I admit to finding it odd when my peers continue to be active in their children’s schools after their children have graduated. I understand supporting institutions you feel are an asset to your community. I do not understand staying on for years as a member of Advisory Boards or other organizations meant for the parents of current students. I live in a community where it is quite common for individuals to linger long after their children have graduated. The argument is given “no one else wants to do it.” The reality of the situation is no one else can participate or take a leadership position because the old guard will not move on. I suspect these individuals are clinging to a positive time in their life and they are afraid to explore new avenues. In the worse scenarios it is a petty attempt to retain power.  Either way, the behavior is disturbing and in my community too often supported without question.  I do not regret leaving this element of my life behind.

Many of my peers will still be active participants in their schools and youth organizations for years to come. They still have children in the nest ranging from babies to teens.  Most who have babies are men, due to biology, but more and more women are parents of young children well into their fifties.  I do not know where they get the energy.  I understand these people will most likely not join me on the road less traveled, because they cannot. The demands of parenting keep most people on the main freeway. Those of us who choose the road less traveled during our parenting years normally have some interesting stories to tell.

So I guess you have realized I have no intention of returning to the main freeway of life. I do not want to climb any career or social ladders. I do not want to be Chairman of the Board or Fundraising Chair. I have already organized and accomplished a fundraiser for the homeless by myself. I have no interest in doing it with a group of people who will take twice the time, twice the money and twice the stress to accomplish the same goal. (Though sharing the month of stress I experienced would have been nice). I do not need the community praise or glory that seems to come with volunteering or fundraising these days. This does not mean I may not find a worthy cause to support; I just will not advertise my participation.

So I say goodbye again to the travelers on the main road. I cannot join you. What has meaning in your life has little to no meaning in mine.  If you need a little break from the “who is more important or who  has more money or……”  you will find me on the back road. Come, take a break, have a cup of coffee, tell me the stories of the main highway. The back road is where I find life has meaning and I am always interested in the experiences of others, even if I do not want to ( or no longer can) join you on the freeway. See too much time on the back roads makes returning to the freeway very difficult.

So I guess I will have to continue on my path to that vague goal. I hope to meet some interesting people along the way and learn new things. It is time to move on. I am looking forward to the journey.

Recent Activities

Hello again. I know I have been silent for awhile but I have been doing other things, leaving my faithful followers to read the zillion other writers out in the blogsasphere (is that really a word? No probably not.)  What have I been doing? Well gardening of course.  I have become quite the gardener over the past ten years.  Most people would call what I do landscaping but to me it is merely playing in the dirt.

My latest project is moving my plants from the front yard to the back yard. AEP, our power company, did me the favor of cutting down some trees in the back yard. If you have ever priced tree removal you would understand why I did not have this done years ago, especially given the fact the trees in question were mature and very large.  In fact years ago AEP promised to cut these exact trees, but never followed through. I think they cut down the neighbors trees instead of mine. I was a bit irked since I had moved quite a few plants to accommodate their work crews but such is life.  This time AEP showed up and cleared a fair amount of foliage.

I now have sun where I only had shade (lots and lots of shade) before.  I also have a restricted number of plants I can plant in my yard due to the presence of not one, but two, Black Walnut trees.  So I looked to the front yard to see what I could do with what I have. Most of my gardening is making do with what I have.  The reason is budget, the result is creative gardening. I am really quite good at it, if I must say so myself.

The front yard was almost finished. I had designed a low maintenance, perennial landscape reminiscent of an English garden. I had a variety of, sedum, irises and day lilies planed in a defined asymmetrical bed located between two trees, one of which was surrounded by hostas.  My yard is rather large and I have LOTS of trees. The design was not to everyone’s taste but it worked for me.  It took five years to get the design finished, plants planted and edges edged. I do this myself (the gardening service never seems to show up) on a very limited budget. Finishing it was quite an accomplishment.  I could have moved a few plants to the back and had two areas fully planted. I did not. I have been busy taking the entire front beds out. They will be replaced with grass.

A few of my neighbors have asked me what I am doing. I have received compliments on my flowers. I normally respond with a comment on how busy the street is, and how I now have a sunny spot in back to garden in. This is true. The street is busy and I do have back yard space now. What I do not say is that “low maintenance” does not mean “no maintenance” and I am tired of creating beauty for others.  I am taking my beautiful flowers in the back yard, where I can do the maintenance needed and enjoy the fruits of my labor. The rest of the world can plant their own flowers or visit a public garden if they need a beauty fix.

Gardening in my front yard was never easy. The road I live on is quite busy. Gardening is messy, hot, dirty work when you are creating something out of nothing, especially when you are working with clay soil.  I may not have always looked my best.  I also have some physical handicaps that make this type of work difficult. When I can push through the pain, I will work for hours at a time. When I cannot, I am in bed.  This is why I cannot do manual labor to earn money. I did once (didn’t know that did you?)  I became unable to even drive to the office to maintain the plants. Cut short my career in landscape design, let me tell you.  I am not on anyone’s time clock at my own home, so I can accommodate my own frailty without bothering anyone else. Plus I enjoy the work and enjoy creating beauty, even if it takes me a little longer.

The physical ailments I have are made worse by stress. I began to clean up my front yard in early spring. The flower beds were in bad shape since I was unable to do any significant fall maintenance due to a back problem.  I began to experience severe stress and  pain as a result of my activities. My physical problems were much worse when I gardened in my front yard then when I gardened in my back yard. The stress was even worse if I happened to glimpse a relative or someone I knew drive by while I was working. I finally listened to what my subconscious was telling me , I decided to take all of my flowers and only garden in my back yard. 

Front yard plantings are really for other people. I do not sit in my front yard.  I only see what is out there when I drive by my own house or look out my window. Landscaping beautifies a neighborhood, gives a house street appeal, and gives neighbors something to look at or enjoy. Front yard plantings, in my opinion, are really for other people to see. My plantings were a way to share beauty with my community and to improve our neighborhood. I no longer have the urge to share.

 I see no reason to increase my stress levels to create beauty that I cannot maintain properly without severe stress and pain.  I am under no obligation to create beauty for others. I do not need to share. I have been busy moving my flowers. They look spectacular in the back yard.