"Ya'll come". So I did.

Had the great good fortune of visiting family, a small reunion of sorts, at my brother's cabin in Kentucky over the weekend.  I couldn't tell you exactly WHERE I was, but I was in a sort of remote little slice of heaven for two and a half days.

The cabin is located somewhere outside of Cadiz, Kentucky.  I am not sure what body of water, and I couldn't tell you if it is north, south, east, or west of Cadiz.  Part of the mystery and charm is not knowing.  I felt worlds away but I did go in to town and do some shopping with two of my sisters-in- law, after about a twenty minute twisty turny ride.

Being in the cabin in the woods, with a great fire pit and a spectacular location would seem kind of redundant since I have woods, a fire pit table and, you know, a pretty wonderful view of my own, but, there is something about being somewhere other than home.  My brother and his wife are wonderful hosts and you don't want for anything while in their care.  There is no cell phone, no internet, no distractions other than from the squawking heron, the calling owl and the occasional skittering in the woods of deer and raccoon.  Yes, I have all these same sounds, but it's different I tell ya.

Originally hoping for all of the family to be able to go, it was not possible for my three kids, nor my third sister-in-law, nephews and families.  So it was just "us".  The grown-ups.  My niece and her family came over for a brief visit on Friday evening so I saw great nieces I had not yet met, and got to catch up with the young wife and mother, whom I last saw as a new bride.  It's stupid to let too much time pass before you see family, let me just say that.

We ate, we laughed, there was fishing, boating, shopping and bourbon.  It was fast, fun and familiar.  I want to go back tomorrow.  To laugh with my brothers, whose memories are as long as love and who make me laugh.  My cabin owning brother is generous, inviting anyone to stay, to visit, to come.  He reminds me of "home".  My other brother, was asked by a visitor "How many brothers and sisters are there?" He replied "Three".  I looked at him and said "Well, gee, there's four of us here."  We laughed and laughed over that one.  Musta been the bourbon.

My mama said

Good things come to those who wait, so my mama told me. She also told me you can’t hurry love. That there would be days like this. And, to always wear clean underwear, in case I end up in ER.


Last week I announced the end of a chapter as I set out to find a new job outside of my home-based business. I began with a cheery outlook but as I searched a few pages and stayed up late going through websites and postings, I wasn’t finding much, I had one hour or so of a bit of panic.

I’ve been through a fair amount and determined what kind of setting I would need to be in. Collaborative, supportive, creative and true. I am very much aware of who I am and I am more aware than ever of what I will and will not surround myself with, and who, and I determined that had to be so in my work life as much as anywhere else.   I’ve done the whole working for someone and pretending to be someone else…like someone who likes them, for example…and I determined I was not going down that path. I crawled out of that quagmire, just by the hair of my chiny chin chin. (and that's not a waxing reference!) We have probably all read the articles about how to present yourself, what to ask, what to wear and say. Nope. I will be Cindi. I will wear what I am comfortable wearing and I will find the place that fits me. I can’t hide my 56 year old face and body, so, here you have me. Glorious, capable and fun ME.

The clouds opened and revealed a perfect location for me, and a job I can certainly perform. At – get this people who know me well – a center for the arts. The Arts. Can you believe it? The interview went well, the wait excruciating but in the end, perfection. The Arts! I start next week and not doing the job I actually interviewed for but one that is so much more.

So it’s next chapter time, folks. The people are smart, fun and ooze creativity. The conversations lively, animated and honest. Man. Someone PINCH me!

Don't try this at home

Were you one of those unfortunate women a few years ago who burned their neck with a curling iron?  A few trips to the hair dresser and we took note that “Hey, they put the comb between my head and the curling iron, like a shield!” I have memories of many, many friends with big hickey like burns on their necks, their foreheads, their palms...yes, palms.  A result of grabbing the curling iron as it slid off the bathroom sink. 

I haven’t used a curling iron in years, however, a couple weeks ago an equally freakish and ridiculously stupid burn happened to my décolletage.   You see -  and this is for you young women who have yet to experience the joys of menopause, as well as for my peeps, who can relate - when you pass a certain age, along with male pattern baldness, you can begin to “sprout little tiny hairs all out your face” (that was either Steve Martin or Bill Cosby, Google it) and they can be a bit embarrassing.  So, a solution is to wax.  Now, a lot of us allow a professional to perform this barbaric act, but there are also women of pioneer stock such as myself who will attempt this torture on their own.  I have wax and I have a microwave. 

Usually, this goes pretty well.  Oh, its uncomfortable for a brief period, but I’m careful, making sure the wax is warmed to the consistency of honey, like it says on the instructions.  Sometimes it has "hot spots" but that's why you stir it, and it cools a bit as I move to the bathroom mirror.   Its over and done with in a quick few minutes and I’m on my way.  I’ve learned how to put it in the microwave and stir it, and put it back in, and stir it, and put it back in, then stir it.  The problem came about because, well, I guess because it has reduced in volume through using it for a few months and this last time, that last microwave spin created a bubble at the bottom of the cup. 

So, I began to stir with the plastic tongue depressor thingy that came with the bright blue wax but the bubble was there and it “popped”.  Much like lava in a volcano and hot wax jettisoned out of the cup and onto my chest. I mean it hurt like H.E. double hockey sticks ladies and gentlemen, and I’m not even kidding.  I knew it was hurling towards me and I ducked, if that’s even possible and some how avoided my face.  I turned my head, too, and wax flung itself into my hair.  

I spent the next few minutes peeling wax off my chest before I realized it was also skin.  Ew.  That’s gross.  I also had to cut chunks of hardened wax out of my hair (sorry Rhonda, who styled my hair the day before).  I looked down at a favorite deep magenta tank top, now splattered with bright blue wax.  Durn. 

I didn’t cry.  I have cried more when pulling the wax off my upper lip than peeling it off my chest, which included skin! Now, it hurt but how can little tiny hairs hurt so much more?  Some of it probably was the adrenaline and the need to get the wax off me was kind of in charge.   Anyway, a few days of neosporine and a vitamin E drop or two and my wounds are healed although they might scar a little.  The top went to the garbage, the hair has blended in and I scraped the wax off the kitchen floor.  

That night, as I relayed the day's events to hubs,  I pulled back the neck of my shirt to show him the burns and he was horrified, empathetic and sweet.  And dumbfounded.  “Wait, you put hot wax on your lip?”  Innocent babe.

It is time for me to wax and I looked at that cup yesterday for a long, long time and decided against it.   I may just have a full Magnum P.I. by Thanksgiving. 

Oh, these times they are a changing

Along with the seasonal changes, I am beginning a change.  I have decided to leave my  independent contractor status and have started to job search.  I did an evaluation of where I am, where I want to be and all that.  I brushed up my resume and I’m starting out.  I am pretty excited, and looking forward to what life next holds for me. 

I have really enjoyed the last four years.  Its given me time to do a little repair, a little shoring up and no, I am not referring to the house.  I had a bit of work to do on me, and now seems like a good time to leave the workshop and test the product.  I feel good about me, and that says a lot. 

When you are in this place, ready to begin a new adventure, there is bound to be a little hesitation.  Its been a while.  My clothes are all wrong.  I no longer own anything other than flats and flip flops.  I will have to work my way back in to make up.  I'll get there, to be sure.  I look forward to seeing faces, rather than just hearing voices and reading words.  

I am filled with anticipation, excitement.  I know what I want and I know what I do not.  I am more sure of who I am now than I have been in 10 years or more.  It will be different, it will be new and it will be me! 

Wish me luck!