Shopping with my BFF

I’m going shopping with my best friend today. We were going to go Saturday, but the Aggies were winning a football game on Kyle Field, which meant College Station was one huge tailgate party.

I love shopping with Wynell. We both like similar things, so we’re constantly holding up outfits for each other and saying, “You should try on this.” Chico’s is our favorite boutique, but we only look at the sale rack now. Macy’s is on the list because… well, honestly, Macy’s always has a sale going on. And then we hit the off-price/discount stores: Marshalls, DSW, and TJ Maxx.

My sweetie says there is no room for more clothes because I have already taken over three closets in the Navasota home and one closet in the Houston condo. But he’s wrong. I recycled four bags of skirts, dresses, jackets, and shoes last week.

Besides that, it is not necessary to actually buy something when I go shopping with my BFF. The most fun is to take different things from different racks and put them together, such as a red jacket with grey slacks, and an ivory silk blouse, paired with several ropes of pearls and silver hooped earrings. I call it playing Barbie, grown-up style. (People in the stores call it fashion merchandising and pay employees to do it.) When we’re through with our pairings, we may or may not buy. After all, the real fun is in the shopping.

My cousin Barbara Jean and I have shopped our way through Hawaii, Ireland, Greece, and Israel. As a result, I have the most exquisite scarves, spectacular earrings, and unique rings. My “aunt” Alice and I can shop anywhere, even in an airport, and find great sales items. We shopped for silver and turquoise one year in Santa Fe, and when we returned a whole year later, three different shop keepers in three different stores remembered us. Not because we bought all their merchandize but because we always make shopping such a party. (Okay, maybe we did buy some pretty amazing pieces, but we left a lot on the counter as well.)

When my childhood friend Charlotte was still alive, she, her younger sister Janice, and I would go to the various church Christmas festivals around Houston and to the specialty shops in Kemah every year. We entertained each other with the wildest “finds” for the relatives on our lists and laughed till our sides hurt. We would hit downtown Macy’s for its after-holiday sales, which was always so empty on a Saturday that it was like having our own private store. Janice still has a Y2K sweater she got for mere pennies on the dollar. It is a stunning designer sweater that should be good for any New Year's Eve party until the next millennium.

I am amazed that there are women who hate shopping. Not me. I go every chance I get. Maybe it’s because shopping isn’t so much about the clothes and accessories  as it is about friendship and being with the girlfriends I love. 

Spring is in the air

Sunshine finally burned through the overcast sky today. I feel Spring pushing through this stubborn winter. It's been a tough winter for us. In the past I've always said winter in Texas is never more than a few days of freezing weather and then the sun comes out and warm us up. But this year it seems the opposite was true--every time the sun showed her face for more than a couple of days, Canada sent down an an icy blast to frost our bones. I'm glad the seasons are finally changing.

The doves that made a nest in the overhanging eaves in the roof of the back porch have returned to build another nest. Or are they are the offspring that burst from those tiny eggs last spring and sat in that nest for two weeks until they were strong enough to take flight? Ronnie and I aren't sure. We aren't ornithologists, but we sure are excited to see the nest of twigs and pine needles.

I've read that doves will abandon their nests if they feel threatened, and this nest is on the porch where the dogs sleep. What's up with that? I think the doves know the dogs will keep the neighborhood cats away as well as the squirrels living in the pecan trees that shade our home.

The red bud tree in the back yard is in full bloom, and the daffodils are beginning to appear in pretty bunches. Hopefully Jackson won't dig them up.

My friend Wynell drove up from Houston yesterday, and we went to College Station to do a little shopping. Indian paintbrushes, bluebonnets, and sunflowers dotted the roadside. They will blanket the pastures by Easter.

Summer Solstice

Yesterday was the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year. I celebrated it with fourteen women who joined me at Church Street Retreat. My friend Wynell brought magnificent sunflowers to adorn the table around which we gathered in a circle of trust. We filled the space with hope and willing hearts. We explored our dreams, letting go of the ones that no longer served us and embracing those we wanted to bring into reality.

We lunched on homemade vegetable soup and garden fresh salad. My friend Lil brought a made-from-scratch baked pecan pie and a fig torte to share with us. The sweetness of the effort intensified the blend of the ingredients. Sumptuous.

In the afternoon, we listened to a guided meditation by Cassie Premo Steele, inviting us to plant the seeds of our creativity. We wrote about the seeds growing inside us and about whether we were living a life that gives joy to our soul--and if not, how we could realign ourselves so that we could follow our heart's desire in the days ahead. We gave a collective voice to our intentions to live authentic lives.

And we wrote our dreams on red and purple tissue paper, folded them into cylinders, lit the tips and watched them burn brightly and take flight to heaven. (FlyingWishPaper.com is where you can purchase your own.) The house literally shimmied with the creative force of feminine energy and the divine.

I am wowed and inspired by the power unleashed by these women.

Church Street Retreat

Yesterday marked the inauguration of my writing retreat in Navasota. The Church Street Retreat house opened its doors to nine women who drove from Houston to write about "Life Matters," which was the theme for the day.

We had a grand day writing out bucket lists of the future plans, dreams and aspirations we have while we listened to a MP3 of Tim McGraw singing "Live Like You're Dying." The exercise helped us focus on what's really important to each of us at this stage of our lives and put us in the right frame of mind to compose legacy letters.

Legacy letters are similar to ethical wills, except ethical wills are usually kept with people's last will & testament and read after their death. People leave their material things in a last will & testament, and they leave their wisdom and values in an ethical will.

My sweetie's mother left an ethical will to her children in which she told them to prepare for heaven and the rapture by reading and living by the Word. She wrote that she loved each of them dearly and that she would see them again in the next life. A gold framed copy of that ethical will sits on the mantle in our living room.

A legacy letter, on the the hand, is one that you write and present to someone important in your life. It is one that expresses your love for that person as well as the insights you've had about life, thus far in your life (because you can write a legacy letter at any time in your life, not just toward the end of your life). For example, you could write a letter to your grandson as he is graduating from high school and traveling to another city, maybe even another state halfway across the country. You could share with him what you know now in your 50s or 60s that you wish you'd known when you were his age going off to college. Words to the wise, right?

My 40-year-old son Matthew earlier this year wrote me a letter that could easily fit the category of legacy letter. Being a modern day man, he emailed the letter rather than handwriting it, but I promise you, it is the most treasured gift he has ever given me.

The nine women yesterday wrote heart-warming letters, too. If you are one of the recipients, you will be exceedingly blessed by receiving one. If not, perhaps you can write one to someone you love or admire. In fact, if you will send me your email, I'll send you an outline for a legacy letter to get you started.

In the meanwhile, a heartfelt thank you to Carol,  Diane, Dixie, Gayla, Imelda, Lil, Nancy, MaryLynn and Wynell for making this first writing retreat so remarkable.


What's on your bucket list?