Can’t Think Of A Title

               

Have you ever seen the commercial for Shriners Hospital when the little girl is asked what is love and she sweetly giggles and has a cute little smile and says a little bit embarrassed “I got nothing.”  
Well this week I’m kind of in the same predicament. I’ve got nothing. I’ve been home a week now and all I’ve been doing is cleaning, supervising sheet rock installation, dealing with plumbers, leaking washing machine hoses and selecting flooring for the damage that was done this winter to my home by frozen water pipes. That’s just inside. Outside I had acres of leaves from last fall to be cleaned up. What happened to the good old days when you could set your pile of leaves on fire after the kids had fun jumping into them? Should I admit to loving the smell of burning leaves in the fall? Life used to be so much easier and so much more fun before ticks and the thinning ozone layer.
This week my Creative Center is being smothered by the realities around me. No wonder for centuries artists and musicians have needed patrons to create so that they would be free from worldly tasks. Mozart and Rembrandt wouldn’t even be in our vocabulary had they been forced to work at McDonalds to pay the rent instead of being able to create without fear of being kicked out of their flat.
I have always thought too much outside static short circuits creative energy and right now I am on overload without much sleep. All of a sudden Sophie, who usually sleeps at our feet, has decided to be a bed hog dog and pushes herself between our pillows so that my husband and I have about 5 inches to go before we wind up on the floor. She’s like a sack of potatoes in a coma when I try to get her to move. My daughter Alison told me to let her know I am the master because dogs do well when you tell them what they need to do. Well, obviously not this Lhasa. 
So please forgive me this week friends. I’ve got nothing.
http://www.ispot.tv/ad/7XmY/shriners-hospitals-for-children-what-is-love
Copyright by Sandra Hart 2015. All rights reserved.

Facebook – Today’s Diary

As a young girl each Christmas I would find  a new diary with its own lock and small key in my stocking. This is how girls of my era would secretly put their most intimate thoughts at the end of each day, that lock assuring none of our nibby siblings could peek into our treasured observations and dreams.  It was a way of unloading our thoughts, hurts, wishes, joys and disappointments within the privacy of our bedrooms.  In retrospect a very healthy method of emotional release for most of us young girls trying to cope with our lives while growing up and facing life as it was opening to us. We could bare our most secret thoughts and desires without outside judgement. 

My faithful diary postings subconsciously were the beginning of my love for writing and putting my thoughts and feelings into words, never thinking that someday I would be sharing those feelings with anyone other than myself and my diary.  

Well I grew up and had a life. A life that was interesting, unexpected and one that I eventually would feel compelled to share beyond my diary and onto the printed page, then through blogging and eventually, Heaven Help Me, Facebook.
Initially, my teenage grandson friended me, but quickly ‘de-friended’ me when he realized I could see everything that he was posting with his friends on Facebook.  Undeterred, I marched on connecting with family and friends I hadn’t seen in years and joyfully making new friendships with those who entered my life through my blogging.  
Facebook has become my ‘life over 50’ diary.  My life is no longer a series of cursive pages. It is now filled with finger typing and 🙂 faces and anything but private revelations.  As addicted as I was as a young girl to my diary with its lock and key, keeping the world out of my thoughts, I am now addicted to Facebook without emotional locks and sharing my open life on a daily basis with those that matter to me, my Facebook Friends and Family.
Funny how life turns out isn’t it?
PS. My grandson at 21 has just ‘re-friended’ me.
Copyright Sandra Hart 2015. All Rights Reserved.

If I Am Important, You Are Important

If I Am Important Then You Are Important
“I just don’t know …… my grandkids get me, but I can’t understand my son.  He just doesn’t get it.”
And so went the conversation I had about a year ago with a good friend of mine who is about my age and is also a grandmother. She only has one child, a grown man now, a doctor, and somehow he still wants her to be the mother and grandmother of his imagination, even though his mother-in-law, the other grandma, is young enough to to be her daughter. He just can’t accept her flamboyant bangles and bright red lipstick and allow her to be the human being with a kind and giving heart she has always been throughout his life; he evidently never really saw, appreciated, nor thought about his mother as a person until he became successful in his head and had children of his own. 
She told me she feels he sometimes shuts the good things in his life from her, the grandma with the panache and red lipstick his children love. The woman who constantly gave to him, asking little if anything in return now has her nose pressed against the window of his life from the outside while others are welcome to enjoy the good life my friend helped him achieve as a young man.
My final thought to her was that maybe that’s the problem. Maybe  she should have asked for more from her son along the way instead of just always giving.  Perhaps she has perpetuated a relationship of one-sided giving that will be hard to change. I certainly hope not. 
As usual in most of my blogs this conversation has stayed with me and recently started my brain thinking in-depth more about being a mother and grandmother, whether it is a different relationship with daughters than it is with sons, what it means today and what it means to me. Mother’s Day has just passed and it kind of fits in right now. 
I am fortunate to have two daughters and a son, so I have experiences with mother/daughter and with the mother/son relationships.  I can’t speak for other parent/ child relationships, I only know mine.  In my experience each has been different and evolved into opposites in adulthood. 
I’m trying to think that when I was raising my children if I actually demanded as much from my son as I did my daughters. I know they all had to do chores on Saturday. The girls would vacuum, clean their rooms and help with the house chores, but honestly, I don’t ever remember asking my son to do anything around the house. except try to pick up his clothes up off the floor.  (As a matter-of-fact I was reminded recently by one of my daughters about the picture we took of my son sitting on top of a pile of clothes – a mountain – in his room.) 
 So in my friend’s case, I am finally realizing, I, too, am guilty of treating my son differently. Boys go off and leave their mothers, girls stay.
An old proverb states, “A son is a son until he takes a wife. A daughter is a daughter for all of her life.” Knowing this, is that why we sometimes don’t demand for fear of breaking that bond too soon? 
 I always made my daughters accountable and never minced words with advice when I thought necessary. I never questioned it would weaken our bond or make them love me less. But for some reason I never did the same with my son. Is that normal? 
Our best mother’s dream for our sons is to be able to have him find his soulmate that will love him and share his life’s ups and downs long after we are gone, so why did I tiptoe so much until that moment? 
“Mothers who are ‘important’ convey two main messages to their sons: If I am important then you are important; and I am important so I am worthy of your kindness, which I will affirm,” she said.

“This second message, which is often dramatically overlooked in the child development literature, is perhaps the most important ingredient to helping children develop into wonderful adults,” said Dr. Stone Fish.

Mothers can serve as good models of how to treat a woman with respect, according to Dr. Coleman, a psychologist in private practice in San Francisco specializing in family and parenting issues.

“However, mothers who can comfortably learn to set limits with their sons and act in a healthy self-interested way produce sons who are better friends and partners to women,” explained Dr. Coleman, who is also on the training faculty of the San Francisco Psychotherapy Research Group and has served on the clinical faculties of The University of California at San Francisco/Mt. Zion Crisis Clinic and The Wright Institute Graduate School of Psychology.  

I have often said to my children that being a mother is the best job I have ever had in my life and if I had a ‘do over’ In hindsight I could have done better.  I know without a doubt am so privileged that ‘part of the way, you were to walk with me.’**

**To My Children – Sandra Hart

©Sandra Hart 2015. all Rights Reserved

SoulCycling Grandma

Today’s spinning grandmothers has nothing to do with spindles and wool. They say today’s 60’s is the new 40’s.  We are healthier, more nutritionally informed and educated about the mind/ health relationship to longevity. We have the advantage of advanced medical care and preventative medicine. Statistics show that normal life expectancy for the Millennials may be into the early 100’s.  Great news, yes?
Maybe for some, but along with this focus on youth and the ability to stay physically fit longer into the ‘grandma years’ is the slowly eroding Norman Rockwell’s image of Grandma and Grandpa. Perhaps a sad farewell and a bitter pill for those who want Grandma to still be round and cuddly and let’s face it – comfortably ‘old-looking’ like most of our real Grandmas looked in the 1940’s.
My 1940’s grandmother was a bit overweight, wore neatly ironed house dresses and her gray hair in a bun on top of her head. She was warm and snugly and wore an apron when she cooked. Grandma looked like all of the other grandma’s I knew as a child.  But the sad reality is that my grandmother also died in her late 50’s of angina from her fatty cooking and hard work slaving over the stove and caring for her ten children.  I would say, honestly, not so great for snugly Grandmas in those days.
The 1940’s WW II women and soon to be grandmothers of the 1960’s were emancipating themselves. No one would  ever have accused my mother or her sisters of slipping into the gray ‘grandmother background’ as their mother’s generation did.   Mother looked like all of the other women in the 1950’s who were still homemakers, but younger looking, interested in homemaking, but just as interested in fashion and looking good. The 1960’s grandmothers were slowly inching their way out of the stereotypical image of grandmas past.  They, like most grandmothers of their era, loved their husband, children and grandchildren first, but keeping up with fashion and beauty trends came a close second.  And a job outside of the home to keep busy after her children were emancipated was not frowned upon either. (As a matter of fact I owe my career to my mother.) Grandmothers were beginning to not live in the shadows of ‘old age’ and were still having a life in their second chapters.  
The Millennial Grandmother. This is where within the timeframe you and  I jump in, and I am a little confused about my role as both mother and grandmother post childrearing, too. Not confused at my overwhelming love and undying support for my children and grandchildren, but confused about who they might expect me to be.  I am not my mother. I am not my grandmother and maybe I may not be like the average over-fifty woman. I am me. As a woman I want to be honored as relevant and accepted for who I am, warts and all, and appreciated for what I have contributed to their lives. We are all trying our best by trial and error. 
Women of my generation, for the first time, are more free to be ourselves, always evolving perhaps, but not forced to be put in boxes with labels. We are women first. We don’t have to be ‘old’ in our thoughts or actions.  We mothers all have always had needs and wants stored on the back shelf while our energies were dedicated to focusing on getting everyone out of the nest equipped with the greatest survival kit we could put together. But those personal needs and dreams of ours never died while sleeping. Our grandmothers and mothers may have dared to dream a life of their own, but few could live those dreams beyond their jobs as mother and caretaker of those she loved most.
Perhaps the label ‘Mother’ is so strong that our children grow up not knowing who we really are after we take off our ‘Mom’ hats and we each begin our own lives. News flash children of ours. We are the same person we have always been.  The same people who wiped your bum and kissed your scrapes when you fell down. The same people who cheered at your football and basketball games and dance concerts. We haven’t changed. But you have, and by doing so, sometimes you expect us to still be wearing the ‘Mom’ hat and not allowing us to be free to be who we always have been before you and I were introduced. 
Every birthday I am reminded that my diary only has so many pages left and how much the conflict of my and my husband’s needs and my desire to spend as much time as possible with my children and grandchildren is a reality.  In this age of family diaspora, the juggling act never ceases it seems. I am sure we are no different than most. 
In the end, I am so grateful to be living in this time – in the NOW, because my generation of women, mothers and grandmothers, as I noted before are usually younger physically and mentally than our chronological ages. Due to this wonderful phenomena of being able to live a full life after raising our children,  I believe we are sometimes a shock to our children.
 Well, mothers unite this Mothers Day. We should have a message for our children.  They are going to have to get over it, because our grandchildren are cool with it and most of us well over fifty don’t want to be other than who we are and comfortable in our own skin. 
As long as we can have ‘forever careers’ if we want-or not, go to Vidal Sassoon, wear MAC lipstick, do yoga, SoulCycle, Tweet, text, WordPress, Instagram and have Facebook friends, humor us.  We mothers and grandmothers are in this life on your side for the long haul and are just being the women we have always been hidden under the ‘Mom’ hat. Could it be you were too busy living your own lives that you just didn’t take the time to see?  
©Sandra Hart 2015. All Rights Reserved.
  

Year Of The Selfie

IMG_2504Hummmm….. I have been told this is the year of the ‘selfie’. Kim Kardashian is publishing a book of the hundreds of ‘selfies’ that she has done throughout the years. Gosh,  I hate to spoil it for Kim and all of the millennium generation, but ever since I became an Apple Mac girl I have been taking ‘selfies’ in my Photo Booth for years.  Surely I am not the only one.   Come on, be honest, I’m sure you’ve done it too.

Just think of the industries that have grown up around the self image. There are ‘selfie’ books, ‘selfie’ blogs,  ‘selfie’ sticks,  phones with cameras so that we can take all of these seemingly narcistic ‘selfie’s’.  This generation will be able to follow their lives minute by minute, breath by breath, event by event, with millions of ‘selfies’ by the time they become adults and beyond. They will be able to chronicle their lives with  their changing hairdos and fashion trends, moment by moment.  Good thing or bad. Time will tell.

In the meantime, not to be outdone by these millenniums,  I went back into my photo booth as far back as 2009 (I must’ve erased the others) and I published my own narcistic ‘selfie’ collage. Some years my face was blown up by prednisone, short hair for the convenience of cruising 120 days at a time, and just my female need for change. But it is a true chronical of my six year hair journey.

Bruce Jenner recently revealed he has always felt like a girl inside, well I have always been a long haired person inside. Beginning with my early years and long braids, I have allowed myself to be a victim of hair trends, but I know I will always come back to the ‘real’ me.  Longing to stay long!

BUCKET LIST CHALLENGE

A younger friend of mine, I hate to tell you how younger-younger she is, but she could be my daughter, suggested that I join her in a  5K race. I thought she had either lost her marbles or secretly had a death wish for me. I have been a vegan for over 30 years and I have always pushed myself to exercise and keep my body moving beyond the daily routine of living and working, but by gosh I am….well, well over the other side of fifty – kinda’ reluctantly doing the down hill slide. But, I admit even when I don’t feel like it, which is honestly most of the time, I drag myself outdoors and always wind up feeling better for it. And for these last 40 years I have been lucky to live in an area with scenic paths along the ocean and green hills to climb. A great thing that kept me motivated in my pre-ipod years.

My young friend finally convinced me it would be fun and maybe the primary benefit to me would be a reality check on how fit I really was (or not) at my age. She wasn’t crazy enough to consider my placing, she knew I just would be grateful to cross the finish line without the paramedics waiting for me. My husband joked that he would take no odds on me, unless it was to be the ultimate loser.

With that cheerful send-off packed full of confidence building some husbands are able to endow their wives in times of need, I walked to the sign-up area in the park near the starting line, got my blue T-shirt and nervously made small talk with the mostly younger, younger men and women there. The majority with their glistening South Beach tans and flawless laminated smiles. I pulled my geezer Cunard Cruise Line ball cap lower to disguise my white hair and even though by now I was really having second thoughts, I would drag myself forward, knowing the show must go on.

The whistle blew and away we all went up Ocean Drive in South Beach and around the course that curved back to the initial starting line at South Pointe Park. Like a seasoned thoroughbred, I surprised myself at my steady pace. Surely, I didn’t want to drop dead on Ocean Drive and have the humiliation of people stepping over me. Just keep going and you’ll finally either have a stroke and will be on the evening local news, or just maybe you will be able to at least finish this thing, I kept telling myself. My pride was driving me more than anything. I am such a sick-thinking person, I would have murmured under my breath, but by that time I could hardly catch it.

I really didn’t pay attention to any of the other runners. I just kept running and the more I ran my energy grew. Wow. Not bad. Okay. I’m still alive. Surely the finish line is up here somewhere. My heart was pounding and I felt flushed as I gave one final sprint of energy over the finish line that was just ahead, finally in sight.

I saw the paramedic truck there, probably waiting for me,I thought, but my quivering lips just managed a shaky smile as I passed by. This senior has gotcha this time, fellas!

Well, I hung around to go home with my friend and what do you know, I got a nice little trophy to take home. Third Place. OMG. I couldn’t believe it. Now I REALLY am going to have a stroke! Wow! Not bad for an old gal. I sooooo even surprised myself! Way to go girl, I told myself.

I was feeling pretty heady for a few weeks until I got an email from an old high school class mate who is biking with her husband through Europe and loving the daily challenge of miles and miles of valleys and hills and mountains! Oh well, short lived glory is better than none at all!

Copyright Sandra Hart 2014   All Rights Reserved.Photo on 3-15-15 at 12.38 PM #2

A Mother’s Thoughts

So came the Captain with the mighty heart;
And when the judgment thunders split the house,
Wrenching the rafters from their ancient rest,
He held the ridgepole up, and spiked again
The rafters of the Home. He held his place—
Held the long purpose like a growing tree—
Held on through blame and faltered not at praise.
And when he fell in whirlwind, he went down
As when a lordly cedar, green with boughs,
Goes down with a great shout upon the hills,
And leaves a lonesome place against the sky.

Lincoln, Man of the People – Edwin Markham

The above stanza by Edwin Markham has always resonated with me because I think, even though it is about Abraham Lincoln, it symbolizes Life itself. I recite it often when I’m challenged by circumstances. We all struggle through the ups and downs and whether or not we can remain steady, or not, differs with each of us, but the reality is, it is a part of living – these hills and valleys that we incur just by being.  
The stumbles used to be easy when I was young.  I would get off of my bloodied knees and continue on, but the older I get the reality is getting up again it’s a little harder. It’s not that I am mentally or even physically weak, it’s just that I know the time I have to recover and open another chapter in my life is getting nearer and nearer and perhaps drawing to a close. The last chapter used to be so far down the road that I couldn’t even see, year by year, the door slowly closing on me.  I love beginnings I just don’t like endings. I never have. 
I don’t like when the book is finished and I have to start over. I don’t like when the theater run is finished and I have to start looking for another job. I don’t like it when the movie or television show is finished and I have to start again -looking. 
The thought that someday there will be an end to who I am and what I’ve experienced in this life is still not something I’m willing to except.  I want to find that miracle eternity pill that I can swallow to keep me around for a long, long time.  They say the next generation, if they take care of themselves,  may live past 100 on a regular basis. I would like to hang around and have that magic life.
Mother’s Day is less than a month away and I think the thought I want to share with my children is to enjoy every single minute of your life and to live it, really live it. Drink in and savor every single moment that you are alive. 
Step outside of yourself, close your eyes and just listen.  Listen to the birds, listen to the traffic, listen to the noise, listen to the energy that is completely swirling around us every single day. Drink that energy in and use it to make yourself a better person. Hug you children and those you love everyday, including this dear old mother. Because the reality is one day the universe will blink, I will disappear, you will be gone,  and it will be too late to live the life that both you and I were meant to live.
Copyright Sandra Hart 2015. All Rights Reserved

Fair Play/Fair Pay

Whatever type of work you do would you ever give away your expertise, hard work and talent and never get expect get paid for those services? Of course not. Well,  this may come as a shock to all of you music fans, no matter what band or artist you love, none of these artists get paid for any type of radio, AM or FM, Internet or Satellite play for their intellectual property. Zip.  Zero payment.  Pandora only pays minuscule royalties.

Performers and songwriters get paid royalties for recordings, but not their intellectual properties in today’s streaming digital atmosphere. Our USA artists don’t even get paid overseas when their music gets played by those countries who recognize performance right of artists. Why? Because the United States doesn’t recognize their artists performance rights. Crazy, right?
There is a short world list of those counties that DO NOT recognize intellectual rights of performers/songwriters. Who are they? I am embarrassed to tell you. Iran. China. North Korea  AND the United States. Some company we keep, eh?
This morning I was privileged to watch a live streaming announcement by SAG-AFTRA of a bill that is being introduced to Congress by Congressman Jerrold Nadler (NY) and Congresswoman Marsha Blackburn (TN) called the Fair Play/Fair Pay Act that will correct this wrong and protect the performer’s intellectual rights to get paid for their intellectual rights when  used. 
As Roseanne Cash has spoken out so clearly on this issue, “…. an artist puts his spirit, soul and mind into his work and that has value. Music radio, digital services would not exist if it were not for the artists’ intellectual property.”
If you want to help by writing to your congressman go to: www.musicfirstcoalition.org to ask your congressman/woman to lend their support to this bill. The future of music and the next generation of musicians need your support. 
THANK YOU FROM ALL THE MUSICAL PERFORMERS/ SONGWRITERS BEFORE 1972 AND BEYOND!

MAC USERS BEWARE

If you have a Mac the scammers are now coming after us, too. Easter Sunday my husband came to me in a panic…his Mac froze and a pop-alert from Apple said his computer had been compromised and to call the Apple number listed immediately. Apple answered, said the hack was of foreign entity and asked to get into his computer to fix.

To make a long story short, my wonderful daughter texted us when I explained what was transpiring, she immediately knew it was a scam. My husband would have given them $749.99 to fix with a 1 year warranty. 
The company with Techs in India is located in the Palmdale area (661-748-0240) and goes under the name of JMD or Eternal Group LLC. (800-531-9412)
This is a wide scam as reported in this story below.  Please read and be aware because these scammers really have it down and sound legitimate.

9 Tips On Staying Young

9 TIPS ON HOW NOT TO AGE 

1) Say What
Say yes to eight hours of sleep, antioxidants found in green tea, pomegranate and blueberries;  a Mediterranean diet of nuts, legumes, vegetables, fruit and olive oil and say no to process foods and sugared soda. The latter could have the same aging effect on your telomeres – the parts of chromosomes that affect aging as smoking a pack of cigarettes a day.*
2) Inflame Me Not!
Inflammation is a big culprit in aging, weight gain, disease and even wrinkles. Normally, inflammation is a healthy response to injury, but everything from stress to sugar can push it into overdrive, provoking the immune system into attacking healthy cells – and accelerating the body’s aging process.*
 
3) No Duh? Exercise.
  
“Exercise shores up the brain and
hippocampus, keeping memory sharp and preventing Alzheimer’s, and can lengthen lifespan by 4 to 8 years on the average.” Even people who start to exercise in middle age become stronger and ‘younger.'”*
4) Mine Enemy Is Thee Stress!
Stress is when you’re standing in the middle of the train track and you see it coming toward you. Stress is there for acute survival, but it increases blood sugar, blood pressure, arterial aging and the stress hormone cortisone, which can compromise your immune system; cause depression; and memory loss; and help form free radicals which attack the collagen that keeps the skin supple. Meditation, yoga. 
5) Hello Lunch, Goodbye Big Dinner. 
Dr. David Heber, UCLA nutrition expert, is high on protein. His top tip for slowing aging is to get enough protein at meals: 25 grams. Load up early at breakfast with unsweetened Greek yogurt, or six egg whites. For lunch have beef, fish or tofu because after dinner the protein gets excreted without being used. That means your body doesn’t benefit from eating all that protein at night.* 
6) Rabbit Food?
Lutein contained in spinach, avocados, kale, and brussels sprouts promotes brain health and keeps eyesight sharp and eaten once or twice a week may reduce age related macular degeneration. 
7) Them Bones, Them Bones, Them Dry Bones!
You’re kidding me, right?  Bone broth, another hot food trend touted by LeBron James, is rich and amino acids and coats the intestinal lining to help heal the “leaky gut syndrome” which allows aging toxins and microbes to leak through the bowl lining.  Some credit also with helping grow your nails and preventing pretty much every element, from diabetes to lupus. *
8) In-Your-Face Solutions
Bee pollen is anti-aging, good for allergies and boost immunity – also acupuncture for the face. It increases collagen improve circulation, even gets rid of fine lines says dermatologist, Dr. Mao.  It is believed that topical vitamin C will also be away turn back the clock on aging skin.*
9) Young At Heart.
Really! In 1981 Harvard social psychologist Dr. Ellen Langer conducted studies that put over 70 years old in an environment straight out of 1959. They were told to imagine they were 22 years younger and were treated that way, with no mirrors to remind them otherwise. The result? Their memories, attitudes and health markedly improved. Why all the data suggest our minds are far more powerful than most of us realized. I think we will soon be able to prevent many ailments just from the mind body connection.* 
So you had better believe while society waits for stem cells to make us younger I’m going to start thinking I am a forever young Audrey Hepburn, no matter what age I am!
* Partial excerpts from The Hollywood Reporter/ How Not To Age At All in 2015 by Merle Ginsberg.