One of the joys of my travels is meeting wonderful people from all over the world, and then communicating with them for many years afterward. They become true friends, although in many cases we may never physically meet again.

This past week re-affirmed how important these folks are to me. First, I saw the news about the earthquake in New Zealand, and then when I heard the epicenter was in Christchurch, I was immediately worried about my friends Arthur and Jeannette who live there. We met on a trip to Spain and France about six years ago, and maneuvered our way quite well through Paris together. Since those two weeks together we have communicated via email.

I wrote Arthur ( he’s the “talker” of the two) thinking I might not hear from them for days due to power outages, so I was pleasantly surprised to get an almost immediate response in spite of the time difference. Fortunately, they were fine, but their house and those of relatives were damaged. Right now, it is difficult to assess the extent, but characteristic of Arthur, he was upbeat and positive.

Fast forward two days, and the news was on Hurricane Earl hitting Canada. (I still get angry about hurricanes named after men—political correctness run amuck!) My good friends Paul and Helen and Dewayne and Ann, who I met on a tour of Great Britain and Ireland, live on Prince Edward Island. Again, I was worried for their safety, but the news came back good in their case as well.

These events made me realize again what a small world this truly is, and friendships over the miles are not diminished because of a little word called distance. I’m thankful they are all okay.

Looking for Photos

In “Love to Hear from Friends” I mentioned some friends I have met on my travels who have bought and read my book. Equally fun to hear from are those folks I worked with over the years and all the students from many years ago whom I had lost contact with, but are finding me now because of the books. Seems like they are paying more attention to what I have to say now than they did about 30 years ago!!!

That alone, makes all the time spent blog writing and social networking worthwhile. It is so much fun to catch up on what has been happening in years gone by and hear about jobs, kids, etc. Whether it is from former student Kim who now lives in China and ordered the Kindle version, my old work colleague Lavonne who lives lakeside in a small town in Texas or hometown neighbor Nina who I haven’t seen in years, it is very heartwarming to hear from them.

And I can’t forget all the new folks I have met on this book journey who are following this blog, Facebook or Twitter. I get up every morning anxious to see if you have made another comment or if someone new has joined in as well. See, this is so much more than just a “book experience.” It has become a broad and rewarding adventure for me that includes new friends and reuniting with old ones. It doesn’t get much better!!

Now, why don’t you all send me photos of you with one of my books? You just might be the featured photo or blog of the week!!! And while you are doing that, please ask your friends to introduce themselves to me in one of these media forums. I always enjoy meeting new people and getting to know them better. It’s not just about the books, but new people sometime do make new characters!!!

Friend Helen & Keeping Faith

I am blessed to have met people from all over the world, and many I continue to correspond with on a regular basis. I love hearing from them in emails or on Facebook. Somehow, just hearing from them brings back the memories of the trip where we met, and I am able to re-live that experience and the mutual fun times. Of course, it is also nice when they send me a photo, holding a copy of my book. Not only is it great to know the book is in a faraway place, but that my friend has read it and shared that experience as well.

I met Helen (in the photo) and her husband Paul on a sixteen day trip to England, Ireland, Wales, and Scotland three or four years ago—I lose count of the time these days. Together with their friends, Ann and Dewayne, who all hail from Prince Edward Island, Canada, we saw places like Stratford on Avon, the Ring of Kerry, Oxford, the great cities of London, Edinburgh and Dublin, and the list goes on. That’s the trip where I kissed the Blarney Stone (and just knew I was going to fall backwards 200 feet—hey, it’s not easy kissing that stone!) and tasted Haggis, the nastiest stuff I have ever set my teeth into. But since it is supposedly the national dish of Scotland, I forced a bite of the dish made from “sheep pluck,” which is, in essence, heart, liver and lungs minced with onions, spices, and oatmeal. It took a lot of wine to wash that down.

Actually, the wine is how we all became friends, along with Rachel and Duke who are from Illinois, but winter at South Padre Island. We raised our glasses many times on that Great Britain and Ireland excursion, and I am so glad we had that opportunity. Thanks for the memories, Helen, and for reading the book!!

Home Sweet Home, but not for long! Arrived home late Saturday, and have been running ever since. Sunday and Monday were primarily spent unpacking and looking at my poor yard. Landscaping doesn’t do well when you are gone for two months, even when someone is cutting the grass.

But my friends have been so wonderful to check on everything, that I can’t thank them enough. Laura Leigh watered my inside plants, and checked the house, yard, and pool religiously. Gayle and Bill took care of an unbelievable amount of real and junk mail, checked the house and yard numerous times, and just generally served as caretakers. I knew if I didn’t hurry and get home to pick up my mail, Gayle, my calm friend, might go postal!

Rachel and Duke, who hail from Illinois, and didn’t even arrive until December, checked on the yard, and hopefully cut some of my basil to use before it bit the dust from cold temps. It does take a village, and you friends are the best! Thanks again. I’ll try to never be gone that long again.

There hasn’t been time to really adjust to being back since I had a school in Brownsville to evaluate Tuesday and the book signing and hair cut on Wednesday. Today, I have a doctor’s appointment to try to find out why I am “folliclly” challenged, (see Waking Up My Follicles) and then tomorrow I pack for my upcoming trip to Europe. No rest for the weary or wicked, I guess. I seem to fit both categories, but that’s okay because I am enjoying life to the fullest with or without rest.

Thanksgiving is a special day because it makes busy people like me take pause to reflect on all my blessings that admittedly I should note every day of the year. I know that I am fortunate and extremely blessed, but I don’t always take the time to be as thankful as I should, although I do recognize that there are many, many things for which I should be grateful.

My “thankful for” list is too long to completely cover here, but first and foremost I am thankful for the opportunity to have grown up in an idyllic setting, in a loving family, with parents who had a strong, yet humble set of values that I carry with me on this journey called life. We didn’t have much money because they were school teachers, but we really didn’t know it because we had everything we needed and most of what we wanted.  If parents can give a child that sense of comfort and love, then their job is well done.

Also included in this long list are friends. I am especially thankful for good friends who have blessed my life immeasurably.  I have so many friends who have known me and “put up” with me since childhood, college or throughout my career and who have added so much to my life. Many of you have joined me on these blogs, and for that I am grateful. You are gold!

But I also have the privilege of meeting new folks and developing relationships that turn into friendships which I hope will follow me in this next phase.  My personal travels as well as consulting gigs and subsequent trips give me so many opportunities to meet interesting people with whom I continue to correspond over the miles. Although there are many of these folks I may never see again, (but I am always hopeful), I love the ability to communicate through emails and snail mail or even social networks. You are silver and, hopefully, will become golden as our years together accumulate.

And then there are a few special people who enrich my life on a daily basis, through phone calls, emails or one-on-one conversations, listening, supporting and just being there. You know who you are and you are beyond definition or description. But if I have to put you in a category, you are diamond and platinum, melted into lasting treasures.

As I approach another birthday, I am also thankful for my health and well-being. Since I hate exercise and watching my diet, I feel very fortunate to be in such good condition. I can only hope the genes continue to be stronger than my will power and fitness commitments.

And I can’t neglect to mention that I feel fortunate to live my dreams of writing, traveling, living in and visiting wonderful places. For that I am thankful.

And, I would be remiss if I didn’t thank you for joining me on this journey. Now, go have another heaping plate of turkey and dressing, take a nap, and wake up to read the next chapter of Keeping Faith. It’s more delicious than that pumpkin pie and a whole lot better for you!!!

Cindy the Ballet Dancer

One word can spark an idea and give life to a blog, and that is exactly what happened when my dear friend Peggy made a comment about my flying episodes (see: Last Day in the Galapagos) The word “petticoat” started it all.

First you need to know about Peggy, whom I have known since I was about eight or nine years old, and we also share a Dec. 3rd birthday. In those days I used to babysit her boys, Stephen and Craig, although I think babysitting is a stretch since we mainly just played together and my mother checked to be certain we weren’t into too much mischief, which sometimes we were.

Anyway, Peggy is the quintessential lady, and I say that with utmost admiration and respect. And so was my mother which is probably why they hit it off right away; plus the fact that Peggy is married to Tim, an amazing minister and teacher, who both my parents thought was a gift from God. And I concur. Anyway, when Peggy commented about petticoats I began to think about her, but also my mother, who bless her heart wanted a frilly, little girl who liked to wear ruffles and pink dresses.

My parents waited for a girl for a long time. I think the wait was forgotten until an “Oops Moment” when my mother was almost 42. (When I was in college I finally asked if I were an accident, Duh, and my dad said, “Well, no, but if Ken had been a girl we wouldn’t have had you!”) Anyway, mother was determined that I was going to wear panties with ruffles. RUFFLES, mind you, and taffeta dresses with “built in crinoline petticoats (AKA stiff net) that scratched and itched and drove me crazy.

One time she even bought me a “white muff!” I’m not even going to try to explain that to those of you too young to know what a muff is—that’s what Google is for!  And of course, she insisted that I have matching white patent leather shoes for Easter until Labor Day and then black patent leather during the fall and winter seasons. Can you believe she shined them with Vaseline??

To further ensure that I would be a little lady, mother wanted me to take piano lessons (Peggy played the piano). I hated piano lessons. For six or seven years I took lessons twice a week, and my parents sacrificed in order to provide them because they sure couldn’t afford expensive lessons. After all of that, to this day I can only play Heart and Soul and Bringing in the Sheaves, probably because the first is just a no-brainer and the second has no sharps or flats, or at least my version doesn’t.

Not only did I hate lessons, but I really hated practicing, which I did very little. Obviously, that fact was not lost on Mrs. Brooks, my music teacher, who often hit my stubby little fingers with her long pencil that had a rubber Mickey Mouse on the end. Now I know it was out of desperation, but it really ticked me off then. I always showed up late to her house for my lesson riding my bicycle, with softball glove on the handlebar, followed closely by Trash, my Collie and constant companion. I couldn’t wait for those 30 minutes to be over, and if I were late that could use up a few minutes. Then I would be out the door in a flash so I could meet my friends at the dirt lot down the street for a game that would last until the sun was long behind the pine trees and I heard my mother’s “YOOHOO,” telling me it was time for supper.

In the meantime, mother decided ballet and tap dances should make me even more well-rounded. (Notice my photo—pretty rounded, don’t you think?)  So “we” tried dance next. I think the first recital made her realize maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, but she truly believed in the second year I would “catch on.” I didn’t!

So, next came the xylophone and marimba—total waste of time and money. Finally, she suggested “charm school” and by then I was 12 and head strong. I flatly refused so she made me walk with a book on my head every night for a while. You would think I would hate books, but on the contrary. I promise, in her honor and memory, that when the first copy of Keeping Faith comes out soon, I will put it on top of my head and walk. Wouldn’t you know that part of the book cover is pink—guess some things just stick! Thanks mom, for trying. I think I made you proud, even though I’m certainly not and will never be the LADY you were.