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Beth Caldwell - The View From Here

To contact Beth, email her at caldwellandcompany@gmail.com

Healing thoughts never stray away

I ended last week’s column with “I am the luckiest girl I know,” and yet when I saw that in writing after the newspaper was printed, I thought, no, I’m not lucky. Luck is for lottery ticket winners.

I believe I deserve to have a happy life and I live for that goal, and I am rewarded in my hard work to get it.

I practice acceptance. I practice reassurance. I practice believing that I have more than once chance in this world to get things right and when I doubt my timing (and I do doubt my timing a lot), I always come back to believing I am right where I’m supposed to be.

My summer hiatus truly worth more than gold

“This is life, not a funeral service,” Melody Beattie writes. That’s the truth.

Beginning in July I heeded a wise friend’s advice. I put down my pen, closed the lid on my laptop and took a break from writing my column.

Save the one column that showed up for the Irish clan who came a’ calling, I managed to give myself permission to lay low from writing for about seven weeks. Wow.

And lo and behold I turned around once in my summer swirl and “looky looky”—September is just over there.

The faces of my Irish family come a’callin

My brother, Jay, and I grew up a country field away and yet “here” was a constant destination—where my grandparents, Florence and Joe Drennan, lived on the farm.

We slept here at their house most Friday nights, waking up early Saturday mornings to help Grandpa with farm chores. My Grandma, meanwhile, cooked and baked the best of everything; and not for lack of trying have I duplicated any of those recipes in my kitchen.

The wild things in life make a story

It’s late Sunday morning and a gentle rain is falling.

I am on the edge of lamenting such precipitation because I could be outside cutting the grass instead of sitting here typing. But then again, as I see it, all things happen for a reason.

At least the rain gives me a break from hauling my watering can uphill from the creek to the garden and flowerbeds.

Every new summer, I mutter about the muscle work and swear the next time around I will have a water pump. That would-be oath has been on my lips each year since I moved here seven summers ago.

Raised in hope best gift of all

Writing from the heart is tricky business.

I found that out in a sheepish—albeit comical—way when, once upon a column, I put it all “out there” and wrote about issues with my Greek figure (and included how much I weighed) and my subsequent choices to begin to lead a healthier lifestyle.

An avid reader of said “baring” then found me sitting at a local hamburger joint stuffing in a cheeseburger and called me on it right there in the restaurant from across the room.

Being happy is my purpose in life

It’s nearly 9:30 p.m. and I’m looking out my front window at the still and quiet of the evening and the closing off of daylight as the orange sun slides beneath the horizon.

Once again, and this time through very sad events in the lives of others, I am reminded that Joan Didion continues to be right. “Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant.”

A day for the dog that cleaned house

I’ve made good on the “Jumpstart to Summer” theme. At this moment, I am more tired than the most tired person on the planet, but I feel like a million bucks.

I sucked the marrow out of a three-day weekend, and every used-up muscle and aching joint is a reminder that I love living a whole life—even if my million bucks feels run over by a truck.

Family circus a cause for ‘SMH’

“SMH.”

For those of you who have not yet been sucked into the vortex of cellphone texting and Internet acronyms, the three consonants stand for “Shake My Head.”

The letters also represent an Australian newspaper known as the Sunday Morning Herald, and likely also are a short form for other places or things in the world.

In my neck of the woods, SMH is plain and simple. Shake my head. A lot.

Shaking my head at the family circus

“SMH.”

For those of you who have not yet been sucked into the vortex of cellphone texting and Internet acronyms, the three consonants stand for “Shake My Head.”

The letters also represent an Australian newspaper known as the Sunday Morning Herald, and likely also are a short form for other places or things in the world.

In my neck of the woods, SMH is plain and simple. Shake my head. A lot.

Four little peppers make a fun story

Erma Bombeck said, “Never have more children than you have car windows.”

How about, “Never take more small grandchildren with you to a restaurant than you have arms.”

Recently, during a mid-week lull in my calendar of events, I put the question to four of my grandchildren, who range in age from four-seven, if they would like to go to the local hamburger place with Granny.