Acceptance

Jasmine Guinness once said, "In my twenties, I was obsessed with what other people thought of me. In my thirties, it's about my children, my husband, my work. In my forties, it's going to be about me, and I shan't care what anyone else thinks. I can't wait!"

Here I am. Sitting just inside the 40 yard line. I suppose at this point in my life, I have created the person I wanted to become... or at least I got part of it right. Regardless of whether I am winning or failing, here I am.

I had a fantastic lunch just yesterday with a good friend of mine. She is in her mid-thirties, accomplished professionally, has her MBA, and shares a lot of the same interests as I do. We were chatting about another friend of ours, a younger woman who is trying so desperately to be acknowledged for her accomplishments. She wants to be seen as a writer, a marketer, a this... a that.. desperate for validation. Her path started a little later than the rest of ours, so there is more of an uphill battle for her. But at the end of the day, all she wants is someone to tell her she did it. She has arrived.

But she hasn't. 
And it is borderline annoying. 

Regardless, you have to be patient and recognize the hustle. I'll give her that, she's got lots of hustle. She's getting there, maybe her push is a little messy and off-putting, but she's on the cusp of "making it." Then again, she has a looooong way to go.

Validation is a funny thing. We all yearn for it on some level. We need it in our core. It gives us a false sense of security. I believe in your 40s, you suddenly have all of the validation you need. I don't need you to tell me I am doing a good job. I know what I have done. I don't need public recognition, I know what I am doing. Yes, it feels good to know you are doing something and yes, it is nice to be recognized for doing it, but it is not the end all be all. 

One thing is for certain: As quickly as we rise, we will fall... only to rise again, and potentially fall... yet again. It's the ebb and flow of life. I think when you can grasp that, the rest sort of just works itself out.

One of my favorite authors, F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, "It is in the thirties that we want friends. In the forties we know they won't save us any more than love did." 
There is a peace in being okay with who you are and where you are in life. 

Speaking of life - A lot has happened over the past few weeks. Good things, stressful things, and in between things! I'd liked to share a few highlights with you!

The move happened. My friends Derek and my love, Mr. S.G. helped me get my heavy stuff in storage. 

Salvatore did what he could to help out!

I probably melted a little. Hot & Humid Georgia Weather + Moving is NOT a winner

I got to play tooth fairy to this 1st degree Black Belt. YES!!!

The freelance writing ops are incredible this year! Three articles in the last Macon Magazine, and I have about 5 more coming up with the 11th Hour publication. Not too shabby for supplemental income!

I finally got to relax at S.G.'s for the weekend. Lots of fun in the sun! (Yes, he has a pool. His house has like 500 outdoor activities! And people wonder why I go down there sooo much?)

His middle child and I in the pool

His youngest and I!

His oldest (with the black hair) and the rest of his family by the pool

THIS

Having fun!

I've added some new items to the gift shop!

Was interviewed for a story - "What does it mean to be Southern?" 

There is a new restaurant in town - Parish on Cherry (New Orleans style flavor)

Candied Bacon (with a little spicy kick) and a marmalade of some kind with peppers

Oyster Po Boy with potato spirals

Plus... I have the best friends a girl could ask for - CHEEEEEEEEESSSSSSEEEEEEE

What Summertime Means To Me

Growing up in the south affords you the opportunity to experience a long summer. It typically starts in April and will last well into September, and oftentimes, parts of October. 

Yes, Spring and Fall do make it here, but they are so short lived. 

When I think of growing up, outside of little memories about Christmas or birthdays, I mostly remember summertime.

I'll be the first to admit, I am not a big fan of the hot weather. I don't mean 80 degrees and sunny hot, I'm talking 100 degrees with 90% humidity hot - sauna hot. That's what most of our days feel like down here, starting in July. However, the memories, especially as a child, sort of drown out the hades-like temperature, and flood my mind with happiness.

For one, I remember swimming pools. I spent a majority of my more formative years living in an apartment complex. Luckily, the neighborhood we lived in had a community pool, lake, volleyball court, and 1/2 a dozen playgrounds. It was a huge co-op community - more set up like condos and townhouses, versus your standard apartment complex. 

Each morning I would get up fairly early, choke down some breakfast, grab my towel and head to the pool. I only came home for lunch, and then would pop right back down and swim all day long. I remember sliding down the water slide, playing "Sharks & Minnows," perfecting my serve at volleyball, and sitting by the pool listening to Madonna, Elton John, Prince, and Michael Jackson. We would all beg for 50 cents from our dads for the soda machine. I would consume my Dr. Pepper like it was the second coming. We would spend hours upon hours trying to soak up the sun, and gossip about the cute boys. At night, we would all gather down at the picnic tables and engage in a little hide & go seek through the woods of the complex. Later, we would slip on over to the dock, and hang out until we individually would hear our parents yell our names. That was my the bulk of my summer.

But there were other things I remember: 

Camp Martha Johnston
I spent a good bit of time from 1979 - 1985, at Girl Scout Camp each summer. Here I learned how to swim, play tennis, hook a warm and fish with a cane pole, identify most plants, canoe, skate, hike, and a ton of other typical summer activities. I remember mail call- a time when we would gather at the McGee lodge and get "Miss you" cards from our parents, and purchase items from the country store. I remember the cool, sweet taste of Cherry Berries, Astro pops, and Mickey Mouse ice creams. I remember limitless mosquito bites and the smell of Deep Woods Off or Avon's Skin-So-Soft. I remember challenging each other to cross the "monkey bridge," it was a rope bridge that took you from bank to bank over Sweet Water Creek. My claim to fame was that I was the only kid who was able to cross blind-folded and walking backwards. Yeah - I used to be quite the dare devil. 

Community Children's Theatre
Though most of my friends were stuck to only hanging out at the pool, I was shipped from camp to camp. Each summer, my sister and I would partake in CCT's summer theater camps. I was spend my morning in dance classes, and improvisation classes, and preparing for our summer theater production. Hours and hours were spent rehearsing with some of middle Georgia's best theater instructors. I perfected my form, improved my voice, and could remember entire dialogues very quickly. I made some wonderful friends, people I still know today, and gained incredible experience that has helped me conduct myself appropriately in the workplace, as well as completely washed away any fear I would have of public speaking. 

July 4th in Indiana
My dad was from a little town called Monroe City. We would return to southern Indiana every summer for a little family reunion. I remember corn fields and tons of little blond haired cousins. (The Thurston clan - mostly blond hair and blue eyes.) Playing badminton and softball games. Being asked numerous times to, "Say something in southern." Hilarious.

Granny's House
I also spent an extraordinary amount of time at my Great Grandmother's home on my mom's side. Granny was born in 1901, and was still very traditional in her old age. I was extremely close to her because my mom grew up in her house. My grandparents lived with Granny their entire married life - so needless to say, I was probably closer to them than most of my cousins. 

As soon as we would enter the doors of my Granny's house, my Papa would point us in the direction of the treats he had waiting for us. (Which would drive my mom crazy.) He would have a bag of Golden Flake Sour Cream & Onion chips and some fudge ripple ice cream in the freezer. I would run to his room and play with my paper dolls, or sit and listen to his Johnny Cash records. I would head out side and play with the dogs, or wander through his amazing garden. I would invite my cousins that lived across the street to come over and play. We would have a wonderful time. I always got the biggest kick from going through their old things. My Grandma Betty had a huge assortment of jewelry and purses. I would have her show me her things, every time I came over. I think she enjoyed telling the stories as much as I loved listening to them.
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Summers in the south really are grand. From quick trips to the beach or lake, to campfires at night. From sweet iced tea on the front porch, to catching lightning bugs at night - everything is special down here. 

What are some of your fondest memories surrounding summer?