Ode To a Mockingbird

Harper Lee was not a prolific writer. I didn't even read To Kill a Mockingbird until after the age of 30. And yet, she is one of the most important writers in my life. When I found out last week that she died, I felt like a small part of my childhood died as well.

When I was growing up, without DVD's or Netflix or Hulu or any of the other couch-potato accoutrements, we watched movies on TV the night that they came on. There were a handful of them we watched every year. Some I still crave, like Sound of Music, and one or two I could never see again. (I'm looking at you, African Queen.) To Kill a Mockingbird was one of my favorites. I don't even know if my dad had read the book, but he insisted we watch the movie any time it was on.

I loved it.

I had difficult relationships with my dad(s) so I loved Atticus Finch. He was so wise and strong and Good. I wanted be be brave and saucy like Scout was. I wanted a brother like Jem and I wanted mystery and adventure on summer days. The film is black and white, but so easy to fall into. I swear I could smell Calpurnia's cooking, the dusty roads, feel the bark on the tree where Boo hides his gifts.

And Gregory Peck. I mean, come on. I didn't even know who Robert Duvall was for years and didn't realize he was in this movie until after I'd fallen in love with him as an actor. I don't think that's a coincidence.

Finally reading the book was just as glorious. Every page I lived in Maycomb, walked the dirt road to school, sat at the kitchen table with Atticus, Jem, and frequent guests, watched Atticus in the court room, listened to Tom Robinson tell his story, and learned the same lessons as Scout.

I like to think that my parents passed on important lessons they didn't know how to otherwise tell me through that story. I knew to never use the "n word" and that life just isn't fair a lot of the time. That there are injustices and some things can never be made right but that doesn't make the world a dark place. And people can surprise you in the loveliest ways.

I owe a fathomless debt of gratitude to Harper Lee for the memories of my childhood, for a book that I can dive into and emerge a better person each time I read it. Her words are forever etched onto my heart.

Imbibing in Ireland

Ireland is known for how green it is and how much its people drink. The first is definitely true; Ireland is as green as you imagine. The second? Well, there is certainly enough alcohol available to drink to your heart's content and they are clearly proud of their spirited heritage.

First of all, Guinness is everywhere. Small neon signs advertise it in nearly every pub window. It's in stews and desserts. There is a huge shrine to it known as the Guinness Storehouse with a self-guided tour and plenty of historical memorabilia (and also plenty of gimmicky souvenirs to fill up valuable room in your suitcase). Not to mention the chance to learn how to really pour a pint. Which they give you a certificate for that, in turn, gives you the ability to be smug to people who haven't learned this important life skill.

I heard from people on both sides of the Atlantic that Guinness tastes different in Ireland. Apparently it doesn't travel well. It's been a while since I've had any over here, so I couldn't compare, but it goes down easily enough. And it's the perfect drink to celebrate a new tattoo with.

There are some other Irish beers, believe it or not. The only other one we really got to experience comes from Dingle Brewing Company - Crean's. It's new and small and quaint. Their fermentation tanks are about a quarter the size of Deschutes' and made of wood. I didn't have the chance to enjoy my sample pint because of the stupid tonsillitis but they were nice enough to send me home with a bottle.

I didn't realize how much the Irish like hard cider, but it is also found all over the island. I lost track of how many different kinds there are and I only sampled about three. One thing to note is that no matter what you order, it will be served in its own glass. You order a Guinness, the glass has the name and logo. If you ordered a Corona, you'd find the Corona label on your glass. Same with the cider. It's a pretty good marketing ploy.

Now, what I was really waiting for was the whiskey. I mean, drinking fecking Guinness in fecking Ireland was fecking grand, but I'm a whiskey girl. Luckily, my first whiskey was at the Jameson distillery in Dublin. There is really nothing like a Jameson Manhattan. It's delicious. I think it's the cold Irish air that makes it so much better. Or I was thirsty. Or it's just a damn fine whiskey.

We also toured the Bushmills distillery which was cool because they let us walk right through the factory where we saw the assembly lines for labeling and boxing. I've never seen so much booze in one room before. It made me a little dizzy with joy. And of course there was the free drink at the end. Oh, happy day.

Unfortunately, the stupid tonsillitis ended my fun here. If you go, please drink 10 pints and a  few bottles for me. Trust me, there's enough for everyone.

What I'm Grateful For

I've said previously that the wife and I started keeping gratitude journals, the only rule being we couldn't duplicate what we were grateful for. Some days, the not-so-great days, it's a little bit of a stretch. Like my socks are soft or I went a day without tripping over anything.

But some days, like today, these things just fall out of the sky and land in my lap! I'm going to share my items of gratitude with you today so you can get a little Joy in your world also. These are really, really good so get ready!!

1. I love the internets. The internets are full of magical wonders that you never even could imagine. Would you have ever thought of this? It's a snail in a sweater. A snail. In a sweater, people. That's all there is to say about that. You're welcome.

If you are lucky enough to actually know a snail in your life, you can buy him/her a sweater like this one here.

2. Next are these pink boots. They're pink. They're waterproof. They just might be the boots I need for Ireland. How can I not be happy wearing these? (I'm providing the link but don't order any for yourself in size 7 until I get mine!

3. We are grateful for three things daily. This one isn't even a stretch. It's like not even having to lift a pinky because it is that awesome and wonderful. Glamping in Ireland. Glamping in a freaking treehouse. I so, so, so want to do this!!

Stay in a treehouse? Yes please. A treehouse in Ireland? DUH!! Plus the campground is called Teapot Lane. It doesn't get cuter than that. Unless I'm sitting in the treehouse and a snail wearing a tiny sweater slimes its way across my pink boots. I might pee buckets of happiness in a moment like that. That is pretty much the trifecta of happy.

See? You don't always have to be grateful for your health or your kids or the fact that you had coffee in your house or office. These are all perfectly good things to be grateful for and you should be grateful for them, I'm just saying think outside the proverbial box. Appreciate more of the things in the world around you. Create some of them and spread that happiness all over the place!!

The Single Girl's (or anyone's) Guide to Happiness

A few months ago the wife and I started to keep a gratitude journal. Every night we would each (separately, in our own homes) write three things we were grateful for that day. The only rule was that we couldn't use the same thing more than once. After just a few days, I started to see little things that I wanted to write down that night. A co-worker's laugh. Sushi. The smell of my dogs' feet. How comforting it is to listen to guys talk about sports (even though I usually tone that shit out). After a few weeks it started to make a real difference.

I started to look for other opportunities for gratitude and happiness. And, when D went through her serious suicidal thoughts, we looked for her happiness too. She did something brave that day. She asked for help. Someone told her she was pretty. Someone told her they want to be like her.

You see, if you look for the positive, that's what you will find. Even on my down days, I didn't have to reach that far. It could be something simple like a pair of fluffy socks because you don't have to conquer the world every day. When you open yourself up to positive, it walks right through your door.

As I mentioned before, being so close to losing D put things into perspective. It made me more willing to take risks. Failure sounded more like an inconvenience than an obstacle.

So I talked to my friend M who is a Pure Romance consultant. It sounded fun, I have student loans to pay off, and I couldn't really think of any reason not to do it myself. Someone doesn't want to do a party with me? No problem, my kid is alive today. It really is that cut-and-dry.

What I found, is that when you remove fear of failure, you open yourself up to real possibilities. The company is offering an incentive for new consultants. Book six parties in 60 days, get free product. I started with the idea that I would just see what happens. No agenda, no expectations. Still, six sounded like a big number and outside my realm of possibility.

You know what? I got those six parties booked. I worked the booth at a wedding expo and booked two more. It is almost falling into my lap. Which only makes me want more. I am very close to believing that I can have everything I want. I do believe that I can be really happy.

Last year the wife and I decided to move to Nashville this year. When I was saying "next year" it felt very far away. Now that it is just a few months away, I canNOT wait for it. It feels like letting go and taking a leap and I have all the faith that I am going to land as light as a feather. (Although don't ask me to think about the actual logistics of moving because I will break out into a panic-induced sweat.)

The wife has the most fantastic job opportunity there and is interviewing today. It just feels right. It all feels right and good and the way it's supposed to be. I told her I have everything crossed for her but I know she's got it already. It's time.

I'm a Disney girl. I love Disney - the man, the movies, the park, all of it. I used to think that I believed dreams could come true. I wanted to believe it, but I didn't really. Because I wasn't open to it. But they can. Sometimes you create them and sometimes you just open yourself up and let it come to you. Don't think this doesn't take work, because it does. But even working your tail off will never work if you aren't really open.

A month ago I told my therapist that I don't think I'm allowed to be this happy. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. But that is stupid. I deserve to be happy. We all do. There are going to be challenges and frustrations and setbacks. That is part of life.

The cliches are all true though. Life is what you make it. And I'm going to make mine great. Really, really great.

Lesson From My Dog

I don't know if you've ever heard anyone talk about what they've learned from their dogs. It's usually said during the old age of a dog or shortly after their death. "My dog taught me how to live." "My dog taught me about patience and kindness." "My dog taught me how to love again." Well you know what? The only thing my dogs have ever taught me is that if you eat poop, you'll just throw it up. Or that if you eat q-tips or condoms, they'll come out in your poop. And if you bite someone, they'll likely bite back. As you can see, this isn't a big learning curve. Not that deep or meaningful. I mean, it's certainly good to know what happens if you eat poop or a condom, but it's not like I was hell-bent on trying it.

This summer my little hippopupamus Ruby Tuesday changed that. While I was 18 light years away from her in Tennessee, she stayed with her friend Gracie The Pug. I use the term "friend" lightly here since most of the time she has been anything but friendly to Gracie. However, the Wife and I insisted that they be best friends. I have repeated the phrase "Be nice" over and over and over and over. And over again.

So I wasn't overly confident about leaving her for over a week, even though I left a list of the "magic words" with our pet sitter. The first night our pet sitter asked if she could leave Ruby out in the house while she was gone for a bit. Uh, no. Better not. Let's not kill Gracie the first night.

But in the next few days I was texted photos of Ruby sleeping on the same couch as Gracie. Not right next to her, but I wasn't going to ask for the world. I received an update text relaying the bedtime story about how Ruby slept on one side of the pet sitter while Gracie slept on the other. The really shocking news? There were also two cats in the bed. WHAT??? Ruby slept with CATS???? Another photo showed Ruby sleeping on one side of a lap on the couch with a cat on the other side. Like four inches away!!! Holy hell!!!

Once I got home, I saw with my own eyes how my baby girl walked right past a cat. And she KISSED Gracie!! It's like I didn't even know who this dog was!!! On top of all of this, she was so happy. I mean, she's always happy to see me. She's a dog and she loves me. But she was bouncy and silly and doing this little horsey-kicky-butt-jump thing. She didn't even do that as a puppy.

Then I noticed a physical difference. My dog lost weight. A lot of weight. My little hippopupamus was replaced with a canine supermodel. Her waist was tiny. I could feel her ribs; who even knew she had any? I could even feel her spine.

With her weight loss she also lost her insecurities about being around other animals. She became accepting, even loving. And not like dogs have any big stresses in life, but I would even call her carefree.

So this is the secret to happiness. Get skinny. If I get skinny, I will be less irritable. If I can leap high into the air I will be nicer to people. If I can show off my spine and my ribs, I will be satisfied. Supermodel skinniness = happy life.

Now, if I can just get someone to reduce my meals to half a cup per meal. Twice a day.
Yeah, not so much.

Maybe I just shouldn't try learning things from my dog.