PURE MICHIGAN is ALL ABOUT US

My husband grew up in Michigan. It’s where we got married. (by a judge with the initials CAR in the Motor City) Back during our courtship my husband took me everywhere he had ever been, exploring all his old haunts throughout the state. I fell in love with the sandy beaches, the urban flavor of the cities. It was our playground. So... Michigan is special to both of us. But we let it go. When he moved away he left a piece of himself there and so did I. We used to reclaim it whenever we went to visit his family. But… they have long since passed, except for a brother... and our trips back there became few and far between. When we did go back… first stop was always the cemetery, a drive past the old house and little else. Depressing right? A few years ago… a part-time consulting position gave my husband more than a little access to Michigan again.  At first… I would travel with him. But then it got tiresome. I was stuck there all week while he was tied up in meetings and work. Money was limited. We had one set of wheels. So taxi’s or Uber were out of the question.  I just sat in the motel watching TV or taking photographs in the lobby and parking lot. It got BORING. So I stopped coming with him on these business excursions... especially since he was too tired to do anything else, after he got back from the office. It became obvious, my husband and I have been taking life for granted. So I threw down the gauntlet. It’s time to start living again. He was working himself into an early grave and so was I back here.  I knew I needed to recharge my batteries and felt he needed to do the same.  I suggested we go someplace for a few days to relax and unwind. Just a quick getaway. No technology. Someplace neither of us had been before. So the job, our health problems… and the past with it’s baggage, could take a backseat for a while… and we could just 'live in the moment'. The PRESENT. I insisted we pinpoint a location, asap. He showed me his hand, asked where (it’s a Michigander thing, the hand) and we got to talking. He hemmed and hawed... no matter where I suggested. Then… something happened. We heard a commercial for PURE Michigan. It sealed the deal.  The words sang to me. To him. (best promotional campaign we had ever heard) I got on YouTube and we listened to every ad they had up. The writing captures your imagination and Tim Allen’s voice brings it alive. It said what we needed to hear. Michigan is WHERE we needed to be. If you’ve never been there. Stop what you’re doing and LISTEN to these three short video ads below. Let Michigan bring you to that place that is MISSING in your life. Let it embrace you in all it’s wonderment. Let it remind you who you are deep down inside. And NEVER let it go. PURE Michigan isn't just about them. It's about US, all of us. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9U1hVRMkuE&list=PL9F9FF42DE1D0C737&index=4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOXUaLFLajY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KRL40TSRb5w

DUCK there is TAPE

For all the ladies who read my blog, I apologize in advance . Reading this post will probably make you shake your heads in disbelief. As for the men… I think you  are going to smile saying, that broad is resourceful. And that broad would be me. For the past month or so I have noticed a problem with the handles of my purse. They were getting frayed. I have about dozen other purses I could use but I like this one, in particular. And frankly, I do not feel like switching out  what is inside it... to put into a new one. Call me lazy. But I find that task tedious and frustrating. Everything has to go in new pockets and places, then you spend days trying to find what’s where. So I decided to just keep using the purse I have… frayed handles and all. But it has become a bit of an eyesore, brought to my attention by a friendly stranger, when I was shopping. She suggested the pocketbook was well used, pointing to the handles. This made me a tad bit self conscious about carrying it around… but I still stubbornly refused to replace it. The color combination suits me. I LOVE it. I did not want to let it go just yet. The body of the satchel is fine. What could I do about the handles, I asked myself?  Then it HIT me. I could FIX them with an old product we all have used. That MEN gush about. Now ladies… this would be the time for you to sit down. The sacrilege I am about to describe will disturb your sensibilities in a world full of Vera Bradley, Michael Kors and Coach purses. However, men you can stand up and applaud. I did something you would do. It may sound more borax than classy, just hearing about it ladies…  but the end result speaks volumes. It was a GOLDEN opportunity to put this particular product to the test. So I did it. I’m here to tell you folks that YES indeed… Duck Tape does FIX everything. It’s just not about the silver anymore people. It comes in an assortment of colors ready to tackle any project. Take a gander at the pictures below. (click on them to enlarge)  I wrapped the handles of this GG…ing Purse , I carry everywhere… with Gold Duck Tape. It matches. And makes the purse look new again. Designer ready. I’m a CONVERT and new Duck Tape devotee. Frayed is no longer an issue. What have you used DUCK TAPE for? 

I AM NEAR

Sometimes the universe gives you a present. A profound moment that stays with you, deep down inside…. Because it matters in a way others do not understand.  I have been fortunate to have had two of those moments in recent days. But I’ll only talk about the first one right now. It occurred while I was outside at 2 am sitting on my front patio . “I’m hurting. I’m broken down.” Upset by my lot in life I was reflecting on the whys and wherefores of it. Looking upwards I challenged the universe to do something about it. And within seconds of my request the most glorious thing happened. A deer appeared in my side yard walking towards me.  It was so close I could almost reach out and touch it. Our eyes locked on one another showing a mutual respect for each others territory.  Sympatico we stayed at an arm’s length from one another for ten minutes or more, barely breathing.  Two creatures of the night… having a clandestine liaison… which offered comfort and friendship, of a different sort.  I wiped the tears from my cheek. My words to the universe did not fall on deaf ears. The deer was an omen. Whenever I find myself searching for answers I always see one, somewhere. (or a heron) But never this…. up close and personal. I felt honored to share this special moment in time with it. Blessed to be part of a bigger picture. The deer nodded at me, as if reading my thoughts and then it walked out to the street. I whispered ‘goodbye’, as it turned tail and left. It paused for just a second though… turning back to look at me, one last time… and I added, “Thank-You for stopping by for a visit.”  I could tell the feeling was mutual. Then off into the night it went. They say when it’s DARK enough you can see the stars.  Now alone again…  I looked up at them. A billion points of shining light. The universe knew how to fix my broken spirit. And gave me HOPE in the form of an animal that means so much to me, for so many reasons.  And for that I am eternally grateful.

COLOUR MY WORLD

Kermit told us it’s not easy being green, but the witch in the Broadway play Wicked embraced her green skin. At the end of the rainbow we are told we will find a pot of gold after seeing a dazzling array of colors. If we are depressed we are in a blue mood. Nature paints the world with it’s color-wheel. The sun is mellow yellow. The grass is green with buttercups and clover. The sky is blue with billowing white clouds. The oceans are blue or green depending on which coast you live. Flowers appear in a multitude of hues. The months have color and birthstones attached. So do the seasons. February is about hearts and the color red. March about St. Patrick and green. May, June and July are about patriotism and red, white and blue. October and November  are about the changing color of the leaves in reds, yellows and oranges... where pumpkins dot the landscape. December is about holly, ivy, pine and greenery  all wrapped in big red bows. People usually have a color they gravitate towards. I love purple without the Red Hats or Barney. And turquoise is special to me too. (probably because of my love for Native American lore and jewelry.) Most of my clothing nowadays reflects these color preferences.  My hair used to be dark before it turned white and my eyes are black, so purple and turquoise compliment my complexion. But there’s another color in my life that is prevalent too. The color orange and I... go way back. But I really do not know why? I’m not particularly fond of it. Perhaps it was my mothers doing. Maybe it’s a color she liked. Or maybe she asked me what color I preferred as a 2 year old... and because I was eating a tangerine... I said orange. Believe it or not… that color ruled the day as I was growing up. ORANGE was the color of my childhood. My bedroom walls were orange. My bedroom furniture was painted orange. My curtains were orange. I ate ORANGE sherbet. And had ORANGE cake for my birthday. Even when I outgrew my parents house and went out on my own, the color still took a front seat.  I bought an orange mustang that belonged to an actress.  I ate orange scones. I decorate with a zillion pumpkins in the fall. I have a Himalayan Salt Lamp that glows orange at night that comforts me as it’s spreading ions throughout the house. And on and on the list goes. Is this a coincidence? Or deliberate? Orange always seems to pop up like it or not in my world, in some form. How do you color your world? What color speaks to you?