A Circle of Words with Friends

No, this is not a post about Words with Friends. I was just trying to think of a clever headline.

In fact, Words with Friends is a sensitive subject for me. My friend Kajone, our web developer at work, kicked my ass multiple times in Words with Friends. And he was as nice as he could be about it. He's like, "Becky you've really got to watch those triple word spots." I'm like, "Kajone, I really can't talk to you about this." 

Because I'm supposed to be the expert in Words. And you're 26.

Once again, I woke up this morning from a series of vivid dreams. I had a very weird dream that an old guy friend from high school was married to a man (he's not), who sort of had the head of my friend Sylvie's Staffordshire Bull Terrier named Nina. It was weird. So I decided to do my homework for a new project I'm starting thanks to another friend from high school.

I'm really excited about this project because it's about writing, something near and dear to my heart. I was reading all the background materials and one of the pieces was an article about Salman Khan who founded the Khan Academy. I think I first heard about Khan Academy from my dad who encouraged me to show the tool to my son as a way to understand concepts in math. It's a pretty amazing story and very inspiring for me. I sat there reading and thought, "Hey I'm finally going to learn something about physics using Khan Academy." 

Then I read that Khan grew up in Metarie, Louisiana outside of New Orleans. Because I went to Tulane in New Orleans, I'm familiar with Metairie and some of the other surrounding cities like Houma, Algiers and Slidell. I mispronounced all of them when I first arrived in New Orleans, but you learn their ways over time. Like Houma is pronounced Ho-ma, not Hu-ma. 

Then I was thinking about another old friend who gave me a copy of Lucinda Williams' album Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. One of the songs on that album that she wrote is called Joy. In my humble opinion, this is genius: 


I don't want you anymore
Cause you took my joy
I don't want you anymore
You took my joy

I'm gonna go to Slidell and look for my joy
Go to Slidell and look for my joy
Maybe in Slidell I'll find my joy
Maybe in Slidell I'll find my joy
 
The contrast of finding joy in small town Slidell, Louisiana strikes me as pretty cool and a sly turn of phrase. Keep writing Lucinda. Keep writing.

This blog is thanks to many friends who keep me thinking, keep me writing and keep kicking my butt in Words with Friends.

NB: Okay this is weird but while researching images for this blog, I realized the Words with Friends logo appears to include a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Check it out.

Snow is a Microcosm

As I sit here with my trusty bag of frozen kale pressed against my lower back, praying it keeps me in alignment and out of traction, I am contemplating all the snow today. It occurred to me that living here in the Northeast may not be as visibly difficult as other places in the world, but it is difficult. Today we had over a foot of snow on the coast which means inland they were bombarded. I just checked the forecast and they are predicting more snow and something called a thunder snowstorm which I think may be not good. 

When you live in a dense neighborhood like ours, it's tough to ignore your neighbor. We know a lot about each other, whether we know each other or not.  Like I know the guy who NEVER said hi to me until recently is a writer - figures - and his son, who is nice as can be, went to Tulane like me, and was also my son's camp counselor.

I know my neighbors next door, one a widower, one whose husband is not in the best shape with his back. Our younger neighbors on the other side -- he has a bad shoulder. I know all these things and then I know my own frailties, aka 50 aka bad back and when snow comes I have to weigh my options. We try to never stop at just shoveling our house. We try to do at least the two neighbors who are older. But today was a monster and here I sit with my frozen kale.

Deciding who to help is a really tough decision. I honestly don't know how people who work at non-profits don't drive themselves crazy. When you are coping with weather like we are having, you start resenting your dog. Like crap I have to take her out again? Not to mention, how far will I go to help others? How many neighbors can I shovel out?

I almost always think about my neighbor Ray and his gardening mantra..."Just do a little at a time." Then there's one of my all time favorite books "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott.  Same principle -- don't get bogged down in doing it all. You actually can't do it all. I mean me. I actually can't do it all. What the hell? I can't do it all? What a let down.

Today we had a new neighbor to help. Old neighbor, but new to our help. They have a snow blower and a guy who plows. But the other day the ambulance was at their house for the husband. I think I know why. It doesn't matter anyway. Now the wife and son need help, and we need to try.

This is a big lesson. That I am trying to learn. And it's only taken me 50 years. And counting. How do you friend, help, support, abide people you don't necessarily like?  I don't have the answer. I guess sometimes it helps to have the cover of snow around you.

On a positive note, shoveling snow apparently allows you to eat anything you freaking want and not gain weight. 

NB I just noticed my last post was a lot more cheery. See. Perfect example of what a long New England winter can do to you.