It's me again!

It's been - ages?  A year?  More?  Less?  So - nutshell version:  May 2012, graduated teacher training.  August 2012, opened Dancing Dogs Yoga - Augusta.  Some more training happened over the fall.  Last week of February 2013, completed Level One training with Baron Baptiste - and was supposed to be in Level Two in Mexico right now, but I zinged my back and got some bed rest time.  Level Two will be in Austin, TX this coming October.  Uh - I got a new car, because Baby the Cabrio informed me he was ready to retire, and started another blog - - but am too attached to this one to let it go.  So I decided to share my varied and growing collection of life hacks here, along with ideas for staycations, personalized retreats, grilling tips, domestic horror stories, time management booyahs, and anything else that has helped me streamline how incredibly busy my life has become over the past twelve months.  Seriously, folks, my mind is as such that I need a place for my musings and another for the collection of harebrained schemes that honestly seem to make my life run more smoothly or make me so happy I squeal.  Or not.  Sometimes the not is dead-on entertaining (but we will never speak of the pizza crust that baked up three inches thick).

What's happening now is I'm in a state of shock over my house.  It needs work, it needs help, and I need help getting to work on it.  I've been through a series of starts that I let life interfere with, and during my recent down time I started researching plans and approaches that helped other people transform chaotic spaces into kickass pads.  Yesterday, I freshened up the bedroom, lit some Nag Champa, and got to work drafting a plan.  (The bedroom was step one - - I need a haven from the chaos that's about to come out of the chaos as the transformation gets underway.)

My original idea was to do what I did when I moved into this place and was struggling with organizing/cleaning/unpacking.  I went through area by area, and made a plan that consisted of one big project and two or three small ones per day.  But this time, I needed an extra kick to decide to where to start, and I don't just want a quick fix - - I want to get down to the nitty gritty and give this place some soul, so instead of unpack/arrange/have a beer it's clean and purge/repair/decorate/have a party.  That seemed a little more daunting, so much so that I couldn't decide where to begin.  How did I finally decide the starting point (other than setting up the bedroom haven)?  One very important question:

*What pisses me off the most?*

Yep.  If you're wondering where to start on a household project, ask yourself that.  It works!  What's pissing you off the most?  And it's totally not focusing on something bad, it's kicking yourself into gear to take on what needs to be taken on.  Once I wrote that part of it down and started working on it, my whole day brightened up.  Ideas started popping.  Next up:

*What do I do every day?*

For me, that meant work on the bathroom, my closet, and the kitchen next.  And finally:

*What is the BIG THING that's going to take a few days?*

Boom.  Storage room.  May the gods have mercy on my soul.

From there it was a matter of working out everything in between the every day things and the big thing.   I even set up a notebook so I can keep all of this in one place - my detailed to-do's are at the front with a tabbed-off section for shopping lists, one section is becoming an arsenal of DIY cleaning supplies and repair how-to's, and another houses the numerous brainstorms I'm known for generating - everything from how to turn bi-fold doors into a headboard to what size dome tent will fit on my deck for back yard glamping.  This isn't so much to create a reference book as it is to help me not lose things in my ever-moving shuffle of notes in my hot pink field guide (aka my Filofax).  I'm still trying to generate a name for it - - thought about Black Mamba, since it's a black spiral notebook.  But I don't like snakes.  Anyway...

Consider yourself updated!  I'm off to wrap up today's list and get more ideas into my still-nameless notebook.

Work in progress - me, AND the blog.

So, what if I told you I had this HUGE brainstorm and got the mother of all ideas for where to take this blog?  I had this HUGE brainstorm - - and, yeah.  The rest of that.

And what if I told you that I hurt my back and have been in bed since Monday, and that part of the gift of that has been that flash of  - why not?  Let's have two and run with it!  (Well, not run.  My chiropractor will be telling me when I can run again soon.)

(Suffice to say I busted my ass again.)

I've picked up blogging again at One Little Yoga Chick, and will be back here soon.  (Well, as soon as I can move with more velocity, because that's the crux for this one.  Kind of.  You'll see.)

So - where'd I go?

I took a break from blogging and got a whole new life.  No, seriously!

Here's my new blog:

One Little Yoga Chick

Come see me!  I'll be picking up the GoKittenGo gig again once I figure out what direction to take it in, but visit me in the new place until I get that sorted.

Adventures in business ownership...

Monday morning - back hurting so set up office on bed.  Hello Kitty lap desk?  Check.  (Stop.  It rocks.)  Hot pink Filofax with refreshed to-do list?  There.  Hello Kitty-covered iPhone with a reminder-laden Siri?  In place.  Email?  Open.  And away I went.

At about 9.00am, I phoned in an order for the reception counter for the studio.

At about 10.30am, I phoned the contractor who was supposed to have called that morning to let me know he was dropping off his supplies and getting ready to paint.   He told me he would have to wait until the afternoon - around 2.30ish, he said.

I had a conference call at 1.45pm that got put back to 2.00pm.  I was worried about the contractor, but told him I had a conference call.  No biggie, he didn't call until 4.00pm, when I was on my way to collect Totsi the Dog from the vet (teeth cleaning).  Luckily I thought to drop keys off with my mom, who went to the studio to let him in.

Home.  Dinner.  Realized I forgot to order my new computer, which I had reminded myself to do while putting together an order for beads to make more bracelets for Africa Yoga Project.

Realized there were no trash bags at the studio, so went to drop them off and make sure the contractors had locked up and turned off the lights.

Ordered the computer.  Did a little dance at the window of delivery dates.  So soon!

As I was falling asleep, I realized something:

The dates?  One of them is right on the day the counter is supposed to arrive, which is conveniently  right on top of when another conference call is supposed to take place.

I forgot to order the beads.

It's like that.

Of reaction and response...

I think it might be almost time to mourn the passing of my air conditioner.  Hopes had been high that the aged unit would last through the summer, but the end could be soon.  It's gone kerplunk again.  The last time it went kerplunk was April.  Those two episodes are a little too close together for comfort.

Last night just after dinner, I thought I felt a warm draft.  It was coming from the vicinity of the vent over my head in the kitchen.  When I went back to the bedroom, I noticed the same strange, warm draft.  I went upstairs - where the vents are in the floor and I can reach them (hush - I'm a shrimp), and put my hand over one.  And then I swore like the most experienced variety of sailor.

Following my swearing fit, I zipped into high react mode:  I went online and booked a hotel room.  Packed up my gargantuan Lululemon tote with overnight supplies, my laptop, and a couple of DVD's ("Yoga Unveiled" and "Pretty in Pink"), then jotted right off to cool, air-conditioned comfort.  And don't get me wrong - I enjoyed myself immensely.  It was an adventure.  A knee-jerk reaction-fueled adventure, yes, but an adventure nonetheless.

While at the hotel, I swore up and down I would be staying until the air conditioning was repaired.  And then I remembered a couple of things; first, that I like to camp, and while camping I do without air conditioning.  Second?  I practice power vinyasa yoga in a ninety degree room, and LOVE it.  The temperature in the house rarely exceeds the eighty to eighty five degree range when the air conditioning decides to take a breather.  So, really, why the hell did I need a hotel room?

I didn't.  I went to a place of reaction rather than response, and dashed to a hotel when taking a settled moment would have had me *respond* to the situation as I did this morning - which meant going to the nearest mega-discount emporium and purchasing some kick-butt fans.  (I even bought a small one for Totsi the Dog to have by her bed.)  The fans cost much less than the hotel, and honestly, now that I have the right equipment this is actually *fun*.  More fun than, say, packing willy nilly and driving off to hang out in a hotel.   By responding, I'm giving a sucky situation space to grow into something enjoyable and out of the ordinary.  By reacting, I blew a hundred bucks.

So here's to responding rather than reacting - I'm chilling in in a cute black maxi dress, sipping a cold beverage from a mason jar while watching my dog savor the breezes on her belly from her own personal fan.  Since I'm right in front of the equivalent of a wind machine, sometimes I whip my head around and pretend I'm an early 80's supermodel, just because I can.   As much as I've explored the difference between reaction and response through inquiry and endless journal entries, I think this experience has driven said difference home better than any amount of intellectualizing and soul searching.

Enjoy your Monday!  I think I'm going to locate my file of recipes for the grill, start a loaf of bread in the bread machine, and make some Red Zinger sun tea.  In other words, I'm going to keep right on responding.  

Can I get a summer?

Happy, happy Solstice!

Yes, I will complain about the heat.  Give me about a month before I launch into a whiney tirade, but rest assured that it will happen.  It is certain that I will faint at the sight of the power bill because of how much the air conditioner will run - this is Georgia, which means the a/c *will* run.  There is nothing that will make me happy about my eyeliner smearing down to my nostrils from perspiration, and frizzy hair makes me want to stomp about and throw a tantrum.  But that's fine, because it's summer, and summer is my favorite season.

I will repeatedly eat too many peaches before they're fully ripe and lament having done so while searching for the Alka Seltzer.  It's likely I'll burn out the motor on my new juicer, and I will probably use entirely too much gas driving to various produce stands to buy more stuff than I will ever use.  I'll intend to make pickles and jams, and forget.  There will be a floating idea of purchasing a snow cone machine, which I'll probably never get around to, just as there will be with the ice cream maker.  Perhaps this year I will accept that those freezer pop molds are never going to show back up and just buy new ones, but that's doubtful.  None of this is an issue.

The invasion of big bugs and bees will freak me out, especially when I am in the middle of trying to convince the grill to light.  Lawn equipment will run, and loud, at the first teensy crack of dawn on the first morning I get to sleep late in ages.  I will go all the way to the lake for picnics and leave the cooler at home.  When Totsi the Dog and I go for walks, she will find the stinkiest mud on the planet and roll in it, knowing that her body heat combined with the heat of the great outdoors will intensify the stench to the point of being completely unbearable.  But it's all cool.

It's summer.  I'm going to live out loud and own it - including the stuff that I will say sucks, because it's a package deal.

Waffles...

I'm trying something new, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable committing to having it be a full time thing:

I am only doing juice until lunch.  (I know, right?  When I jump on a bandwagon, I plop myself right down in the middle of it, shout out that I am damned well there, and buy every souvenir tee shirt I can get my hands on.)  So, yes, when I get up around 6am or so, I go completely mad scientist with the juicer, and make enough for breakfast and a mid-morning snack.  I even do juice before coffee.  Yes, you might have just felt the ground get very cold and move a little.  (Result of that?  I want less coffee.) Until today, this has been easy - I didn't get hungry until around noon.

That was then.  This is now.  It's 10.24am, and I have finished my juice.  I'm drinking water while waiting for lunch, which is sounding mighty good.  Brunch is sounding mighty better.  What I am trying not to admit is that I am about to starve, and that it was the thought of one food that got me thinking brunch might be better than lunch.

That one food?  Waffles.  I want waffles, people, drowning in butter and syrup, with another order of waffles on the side topped with strawberries, Nutella, and whipped cream.  And waffles weren't even in my awareness when this happened - I was looking at ideas for converting a small, walk-in closet into an office.  The thought entered my head that I could use a vanity that's been stashed upstairs as my desk, and BOOM!  Waffles.  Kind of like this:

Actually, I just now decided that this is NOT going to be a full time thing.  There are waffles in the freezer.  Amen.