One thing most of us learn, as we age, is that life changes and we don’t see it happening, because it happens so gradually. The older we get, we realize how important it is to enjoy every single day to the max. When we're growing up, we're too busy raising our families to think much about savoring each day. Most of our younger years are a blur of hard work, chaos, and fatigue laced with joy and a lot of noise.

 

We notice the changes when we look back on photos taken when we were younger, and can think, ‘I looked good, why did I think I needed to lose weight? I looked young then, so why did I think I looked old? Why was I so hard on myself?’ Most of the younger women I know are so hard on themselves and I wish I could hug them and remind them that they look just fine. You young moms, be easy with yourselves. Everything’s okay.

 

Here’s a thought. No matter how old you are, if you want to look ten years younger instantly, the next time you get into a discussion about age, say that you're ten years older than you are and watch the compliments flow to you! If you laughed at my joke, think about what you do to get people to think you are younger than you are. My "real" advice is next.

 

What can a dog do to help us with “getting organized?” More than you might think. Ours (Maggie) doesn’t have a “TO D0” list (at least on paper), but she does have a mental list that follows a routine, and we can learn a lot about getting organized from our furry, stick-chasing BFFs.

 

Establish a routine that starts at sunrise.

Maggie’s alarm clock is the sun and although she hits the “snooze” button all day long, she starts her day with the excitement that it’s getting light outside.

 

As soon as the front door is open for her, she races down the walk, turns left to the steppingstones to the field beside our house, and carefully chooses the perfect place to squat and simultaneously smell what’s going on in the morning air.

 

Before she comes back in the house, she reads the current news, stopping several times to analyze the fine print, picking up secret messages left by nighttime tourists. When a note is especially fascinating to her, she pulls up a front paw the way pointers do when they’ve found the trail of a tasty bird. Maggie doesn’t point her tail to finish off a “professional” pointer pose, probably because her tail has a permanent curve in it, but her body language tells us she’s found some very juicy gossip.

 

 

 

I’m bursting to tell you about our New Year’s Eve Party because it was THE MOST FANTASTIC party I’ve ever thrown or attended! It was rather spur-of-the-moment, but you SHEs (Sidetracked Home Executives) know the beauty of “the spur.”

The way it worked out, all our kids and grandkids were able to attend! So many of our friends all over the US joined us, I don’t have a count!

After being so sick most of December and then rallying right before Christmas, by New Year’s Eve our home could have been used for a set on a Hallmark Christmas movie, it was so festive. Our tree was to the ceiling, dripping in diamond, emerald and ruby lights and my dress! Well! Red silk, floor-length with a slit just to my knee, tightly fitting, showing off my very slim body (caused by my thyroid condition). I looked stunning!

 We had a string ensemble from the Oregon Symphony playing a long list of my favorite holiday songs, a scrumptious buffet, with lobster and a baron of beef catered by a company in Portland, Oregon that had escaped the riots and was thriving. All our guests were told it was black tie, so the place was humming with tuxedos and beautiful gowns. I declared the party a “no mask” affair so we could see what our guest’s mouths were doing; something that’s been missing for a couple of years.