Kitchen Doors

A good friend of mine dropped by a few days ago and we spent an hour chatting at my kitchen table. That was one of the best house I've had in weeks. I wasn't expecting her; my house wasn't clean; my kids weren't even dressed. But she didn't care about any of that, and I feel closer to her now. More comfortable and less inclined to hold myself back or hide imperfections.

In the past, these kinds of visits were much more common. Friends and neighbors came and went through the kitchen door. And family never would have thought to use any other door. The front door was for strangers and formal guests, not the people you love most. And those same family, friends, and neighbors used that kitchen door often. Visits were common, nearly daily events. You would stop in to see someone on your way somewhere else, or perhaps that was your destination. Or someone would come calling at your kitchen door. It opened right into the heart of your home. And no one thought twice about spending time chatting with one another. Lives were not so busy that a few minutes couldn't be found to spend with someone you love. Or even just someone who amuses you. And, if you were lucky, you had family and friends comfortable enough in your home to simply walk right in. No knocking required.

Some may think this is an idealized, romanticized, and possibly unrealistic view of the past. Lives have always been busy, and relationships sometimes have to take a back seat to the necessities of living. But I can tell you it's not unrealistic. When I was young, there were neighbors across the street that became family. If I wanted Tang for lunch, I walked across the street near lunchtime. If they wanted pickles, they came to our house. And the doors were completely open in either direction. No doorbells, no permission needed. We were home in either house.

Unfortunately, where I live, everyone seems so wrapped up in their own lives, that there's no time to share in another's life.

This isn't to indicate that I want ANYONE to just walk right into my house. There are still times and places for social niceties. And my literal kitchen door happens to be behind my fence--just where I like it to corral dogs and kids. Perhaps what I want, then, is a feeling of an open door. A guaranteed welcome from and for those I love. I would love to have friends that felt they could walk right into my house and be welcome. And I want my family to feel the same. I would love to feel confident enough in my reception to be able to walk into my close friend's houses the same way. The open doors of the past have by and large been lost. And I mourn that loss.

Dad and I were talking about this a few weeks ago, and the conversation wound its way around to Facebook, Twitter, and other forms of social media. Much of it was very interesting, and a lot of it was me trying to explain both to him and to myself why I resist most of this style of communication.

How does social media relate to my sense of loss? Today's world doesn't run to families living within a few steps of each other. No, now families and friends are separated by thousands of miles. And email, Facebook, blogs, etc. can all be useful for keeping in touch and feeling connected. But I think they're wonderful tools that are being misused. Obviously, I can't hate them all as this is posted on my very own blog. But they're used in place of the personal connection. No one writes letters or sends cards--both of which take more effort to prepare and encourage more thought as to the content included. Phone calls are even becoming rare--which is a shame too. Hearing the voice of a loved one is precious and worth far more than an announcement on someone's "wall." Visits in person are even more rare. How long has it been since someone just dropped in to see you? How long since you dropped in on a friend?

I realize that this is not going to be a popular opinion. I also know that by posting this on my own blog, I'm opening myself to the possibility of being seen as a hypocrite. I want to be sure that I clarify. I don't have anything against any of the social media tools. I like writing on my blog and reading others'. I text Z-man at least a couple times every week because he can't answer the phone at work. I use email every day, and my life would be very different without the internet. I met some of my very best friends through a website/forum. Most of my family and nearly all my friends have a Facebook page--even Z-man does. But lately I've been missing the personal communication that no longer seems important in the face of so many different forms of communication.

So, now you don't have to wonder why I'm not on Facebook. I probably will eventually make a page for myself. Simply because it is a good tool that can be used to keep in touch with people I love and want to stay close to. But don't expect a lot of time on there. I'd much rather have you over to visit. I can't promise my house will be clean, but I can promise you will be welcome.

Why I Love Romance Novels

I love to read.

That statement is quite a "Duh" moment for anyone who knows me. But what a lot of people may not know is this:
I love to read Romance Novels.

This may surprise some people. It may even dismay others--sorry Mom. But before any judgments are too ingrained, let me explain.

I'm not necessarily talking just about what I call "Bodice-Rippers." Those novels that go from one steamy scene to another with little to no plot in between. Novels where it's obvious the author writes with a thesaurus open next to her keyboard. How many synonyms are there for passionate anyway? Not to mention all the other, um, interesting synonyms they find. These books can be great for a laugh or to use as a guide on how not to seduce your spouse. But they don't exactly move my heart and soul the way a good book should. Plus there are too many pages that I need to skip over. :)

No, the books I love have more plot than steam. They have characters that face dilemmas. People I can understand and care about. Emotions I can connect with. Two people that are just as flawed as I am trying to make it to happily ever after.

And that, really, is the reason I read Romance. That guaranteed happy ending. The boy will get the girl (or vice-versa). The problems will be overcome. The misunderstandings resolved; the fears faced; and the hope, joy, and love embraced. There aren't many things better than a story with a happy ending.

There are a lot of books and authors that fit my definition of a Romance Novel. Jane Austen has never let me down. L. M. Montgomery, even Charlotte Bronte in Jane Eyre. And, of course, there's plenty to pick from in modern fiction. Almost too many to really appreciate. It's no secret that I love the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer (at least it really shouldn't be to anyone reading this blog). Enthusiasm is another of my favorites in the Young Adult category. I hesitate to start naming more books or authors for fear that I may never be able to stop. Although if any of you have either authors or books to suggest, I'm always open to that.

Suffice it to say that if it is well-written, involves characters that are well-developed, avoids obvious preaching, and ends with a boy and girl (or man and woman) getting together, it's probably on my list. There is enough bad news already in the world. I don't want to read a novel mired down in it.

Thank goodness for Romance Novels

Resolutions and the Ensuing Panic

Do you make resolutions for the New Year? I do. And this year, some of them scare me.

Most of them are pretty tame: get organized, get my budget in working order, lose weight, finish our 72 hour kits. The standard ones, for me at least.

But then there are a few that terrify me. Just before Little Man was born, I was working on a personal mission statement. I felt like I needed more direction to my life. Plus I was just days away from giving birth, so my hormones were making me certifiable. I was using some online prompts to formulate and idea of what I wanted and how to get there. One of the questions was "If time and money were not obstacles, and if success were guaranteed, what would you do?" Fun question, huh?

I wrote down my honest answers, and then there they were on my paper. OY. All of a sudden they terrified me. Out of my mind scared. I can hear myself screaming in my head whenever I think of it. Sometimes a whimper even escapes.

I'm not ready to share them here, but I can't ignore them. Answering that question honestly is going to change my life. And, while everything but survival took a back seat during Little Man's first year, I can't ignore those answers/goals any longer. I'm working on them, and I'm working on being brave enough to announce them to the world in general. Until then, I want to hear from you--anyone who reads this. What would your answer be? If time and money were no obstacles--if you had more than enough of both of them--if success were guaranteed to any degree you wanted--what would you do? Who would you be? What would you change? Be honest and brave. Maybe I can be too.