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Riding Towards Rough Tor In My Dreams

King Arthur's Hall & Rough Tor

I tend to see tough times as a challenge rather than a roadblock and I have a hard time giving up when I sometimes should, but my “Who says I can’t do that … ” attitude has been key to some of my achievements other people said would never happen.

There’s a kind of magic for me involved in making the difficult easy and it requires a mix of visualization and a dogged belief that if I want to do something bad enough, I can.

I tend to think of it as the three I’s and it’s a bit like having a portable Merlin in my head with Imagination, Inspiration and Imagery only waiting to be called upon to take me where I need to go when things get tough.

Being temporarily stuck here in America and so far from my husband John has required more than a few dips into my mental bag of tricks and while I feel fortunate to have friends and family helping me, I sometimes need something more to keep my spirits up. The spinning classes I’ve been taking over the last three weeks have been exactly what I’ve needed to balance the waiting game I’ve been forced to play.

Spinning regularly after a break of many years has been both exhilarating and tough. Like many women my age, I slipped away from a regular fitness routine mostly due to aging joints and injuries and with my love of sugar and carbs, the weight came faster than I could fight it.

I’ve been going to 4 to 6 classes a week over the last three weeks and the rewards are becoming obvious. It is not happening without effort and I have to frequently take myself to other places in my head when the instructor has us increasing the bike tension and climbing hills that require imagination to see and inspiration to reach.

I wanted to show you what I see when the going gets tough in class and I feel like I don’t have anymore to give. When that happens, I use imagery to take myself to a place that is so familiar I can see it just as it is in the photo above. It’s one I took in 2008 of  King Arthur’s Hall  with Rough Tor and Brown Willy in the background looking across Bodmin Moor.

Sometimes when I’m spinning, I even toss in a wild moorland pony or two and lean briefly to one side as I to swerve to avoid them on my climb to the finish.

What about you  … any secrets you want to share with the rest of us on what works for you when things get tough?

* Rough Tor is where I’m standing in my header at the top of my blog.

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Spinning For England

Elizabeth Back In Her Spinning Days (Note My Smaller Size)

When my husband John wants to say someone is a champion at whatever activity they are engaged in, he uses the expression “ ________ for England!”  You can fill in the blank with what ever works for you. The other day we were discussing his childhood and he said his younger brother could sleep for England when he was a kid and I thought of that this morning after my spin class.

Spin class! I know you’re probably thinking, what is Elizabeth talking about and where is she? I’m still in Atlanta with what looks like a summer here before me and while I’m doing more than just trying to diminish the extra girth gained during my halcyon days of sausage, chips and egg meals in Cornwall, getting fit has also become a priority.

While I wouldn’t exactly admit to eating for England, I have put some real effort into sampling a variety of food combinations I would have likely avoided while living in the US. Before moving to Cornwall, I generally counted fat grams like a deep-sea diver would the remaining air in her tanks, but I will admit that sometimes I strayed from the path on my own so I can’t blame it all on my move to the UK.

I found my inner baker in Cornwall as some of the folks in my village could tell you and I discovered that sharing whatever I was whipping up in the kitchen with my neighbors was better alternative than freezing it for later. Anyone with a decent sized sweet tooth can tell you that frozen cookies taste almost as good going down as those eaten hot out of oven. You just have to exercise a bit of caution so you don’t chip a tooth as you sneak a cold one on your way past the freezer.

Poor John has more than a time or two gone in search of a little home-baked goody he saw go into the deep freeze only to discover after a through search of the contents, that some cookie monster had been there before him.

Going back what I said earlier about spinning … to maintain my sanity while I am sweltering through endless days of temperatures in the high 90s, I’ve joined a local gym so I can spin on their bikes in classes designed to work the weight right off your backside and other tubby places.

So far, it’s been great!  The instructor said this morning that I was doing really well and that my body seemed to have good muscle memory. I know she meant that I had picked it back up as if I’d not been away from it for so long, but it’s actually been about seven years since I was on a spin bike with any real consistency.

Thank goodness my muscles can remember what a good workout feels like because I think I had pretty much forgotten. That said, I am loving the classes and as John might say, “ I’m spinning for England! “

And just in case you’re wondering … I’m down seven pounds so far and my cycle shoes haven’t even arrived from Cornwall yet.

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The Last Day Of Melanoma Awareness Month

Some of you may know my story when it comes to melanoma. I wrote about it in detail here and I’ve shared stories of some special people in my life who died young from melanoma.

Marty and Jennifer both had an impact on my life well before cancer took them, but that they both died from melanoma connects me to them in ways deeper than just the good times we shared.

This video is one that has been making the rounds this month and I’ve seen it on a few blogs I visit. I almost skipped it thinking what else do I need to know about this dreadful disease, but I discovered a few facts I hadn’t known and it prompted me to write this post.

No matter if you’re 16 or past 70 like my friend Patrice’s mom, Marilyn, who died only seven months after her diagnosis, you need to know what melanoma looks like and how quickly it can take your life or the life of someone you love.

Spend a few minutes on The Skin Cancer Foundation’s site and forward this post or parts of it to people you love.

May is Melanoma Awareness Month and awareness can save your life. I know because it saved mine.

With my melanoma history, my daughter’s chances of skin cancer increase by 50%. Sunscreen and skin checks by a dermatologist are vital along with a good awareness of how her moles normally look so she can tell if they change in any way. She would likely say I was a bit of a nag as much as I talk to her about checkups and sunscreen, but watching people you love die from something that might  have been preventable is a horrible thing to witness.

Most people think they know enough about melanoma or they think it only affects you when you’re older, but sites like this one meant to educate a younger generation say that melanoma is the second leading cause of death in 15 to 30 year-olds. Facts like these are worth paying attention to so please listen and please talk to the people you love.

Don’t say goodbye to someone too soon.

A Last Goodbye - Patrice & Joe At Their Mother's Grave

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And Then There Were Two …

“Only love can be divided endlessly and still not diminish.”
Anne Morrow Lindbergh

There was a happy cause for celebration last Friday when John’s youngest daughter safely delivered a new little Jersey girl. I mention safely, as she was considered high risk and in the end had to have a Caesarean section several weeks before she was due. Both mother and child are doing well although they are still in the hospital.

This is John’s second grandchild and I am sure I’m going to love spoiling her just as much as the original Jersey Girl. As JG’s seventh birthday approaches it will be interesting to see her navigate the change involved in going from an only child to an older sister. Being the eldest of four girls, I may be a resource for her ‘older sister’ questions as well as retaining my role as the ‘chief fun planner’ of future stays at Bapa’s & E’s house in Cornwall.

I only have the one photo, but I’ll pop in more when I receive them. I’m struggling a bit with what to call this new little one when I write about her here. It may get a bit complicated … any suggestions for what to call the youngest Jersey girl?

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An Update From The Edge

Where do I begin …

Let me first say how moved I have been by the messages of support and encouragement I have received since my last post. I have had weepy moments reading and rereading your kind words and your suggestions as to how I might find some peace have been a great help to me. As I’ve managed to move through panic and a mix of other palpitation inducing emotions, I find I am learning some unexpected lessons in letting go.

I spent time yesterday with two close friends who have been helping me enormously with some of the logistical issues I’m dealing with now. Their kindness, and generosity of time and resources have been such a gift to me and their support has made it possible me to move away from a temporary ‘ Chicken Little ‘ mentality that made me feel a bit crazy last week.

As important as their physical support has been, I also had two separate conversations with them that were illuminating and likely to be life changing. You know how people can say something over and over and you think you’ve heard it, well bless them both for their tenacity and willingness to keep repeating themselves because it finally got through my filter. By filter, I mean the voice in my head that wants to qualify, justify, or explain, instead of considering a different possibility.

This time, I think got it and I’m not sure that would have been possible with being so wide open emotionally from the unrelated issue I alluded to in my previous post.

Despite being in such a scary place of uncertainty last week I am managing well now day by day and doing what I need to wrap things up so I can go home to Cornwall and John. I have had so many offers of help and support so many that I am deliberately not naming names here for fear I might accidentally leave someone out.

To all of you who’ve left me such kind messages, I thank you. You helped me leap to the next place which turned out to be a better one. Not all the issues are resolved here, but I do feel better about what comes next.

xo

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The Hamster Wheel In My Head

Life is not a big party this trip. It’s certainly not a holiday and in fact has produced more stress than I could have imagined. For several weeks before I flew to Atlanta, I was struggling. I knew that this would be a busy trip with a great deal of things that needed to be crossed off the big list in my head, I knew there would be work involved.

I felt anxious and slightly blue not wanting to leave John even though I was really happy knowing I would see my daughter and my family and friends. I think now that my uneasiness about my visit to America was my intuitive sense trying to prepare me for some of what is happening now.

I don’t want to go into too much detail, but it appears as though I may be here for some time. There are things happening that I have little control over which is extremely difficult for me. No one is ill, and I have been blessed with strong support from friends and family, but I am struggling to let go of fear and worry. My husband John feels so far away right now and even though he is supportive from a distance, I miss him even more since I have no clear idea when I will be able to see him or go home again.

As you may well imagine, my position on the hamster wheel in my head is not especially conducive to my writing and posting.

I wish I could say more than I am almost sick with worry, but I can’t for now. I am trying to find something positive in these events, but even with my normal glass half-full nature, it is difficult to do. The only thing I can say is that when I come out on the other side, I will certainly have a new set of experiences to influence my writing.

It feels dark and scary not knowing when I will be done with all of this, I normally handle crisis well when there is something I can do to control the outcome. Much of this is beyond my control so I am trying to ” Stay Calm and Carry On” as they say in my adopted country.

Tips on letting go would be useful at this point as it feels like everything I every knew about adversity and loss seems to have left me. I thought I was well-practiced in handling tough challenges, but perhaps I’ve grown soft in Cornwall living a low stress life with John.

Let me say again, everyone is healthy and our homes are intact unlike the sad situations of many in the American south who were affected by the tornadoes, and I tell myself this over and over hoping to ease the feeling of anxiety that is with me all the time now.

I hope you’ll be patient with my posting. It’s likely to be sporadic and I have no idea what might show up here as things unfold. Send me some peace if you’ve got any extra and please, share with me how you deal with tough times.

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Too Much Computer Time … What I Say When People Start To Talk

Back in 2003, a pen and notebook were the tools I used to record my stories and thoughts. Blogs didn’t exist for me and my personal computer was used mostly for photos and email. I had a laptop for my pharma sales work life, but any creative writing I managed to fit into an overstuffed schedule went into a notebook like the one you see on the table.

I never could have imagined I would be able to compose at the keyboard. Typing was always a chore for me and even though I’d struggled through a typing class in high school, I’d never been successful at memorizing the keyboard and I couldn’t seem to use more than a couple of fingers when completing reports or sending emails.

These days, I spend loads of time writing and my computer is never far from me for long. Blogging and writing comes up in conversation a fair amount of the time and I should not have been surprised when a friend in the village quoted some statics she’d heard about the disproportionate amount of time some people spend on their computer as compared to time with their partner.

She looked dead at me after sharing this with a table of people in the pub and said, ” I thought of you when I heard that.” I considered what she said for a moment and said, ” I do spend a huge amount of time at my keyboard, but I treat it as my job. ” I may not be paid for my writing yet, but I will be and everything I do now is with that in mind. So you’re right, I probably do at least on most days, spend 60 percent of my time at my computer, but it’s my work, paid or not it’s my job and this job actually gives me more time to spend with John than if I left the house everyday for the kind of work I’ve done in the past.”

I was writing this post earlier today when John came in to my studio space and said that he was thinking about going over to Lanhydrock for a walk around the gardens since the weather was so sunny and warm. I was writing away and he said, ” You probably don’t want to go do you? ” He knows I can be very disciplined when I’m working and sometimes I do decline a day trip even when the weather is a stunning as it was today.

Although I was right in the middle of this post and another installment of ” Dear Madame, ” I said, ” No, I want to go. ” Thirty minutes later we were out the door and not long after, we were strolling around the grounds snapping photos of spring. Working for yourself means you get to change your hours if you want and I’m glad I did, but I have things to finish before this day is done (word count) so I’m back at the computer even though it’s almost 7:00 and John’s at the pub with friends.

I’m leaving you with a look at our afternoon, but I have a question for you too.

What I need from you

I’m pretty excited about how the next post for ” Dear Madame ” is looking as well as my notes for future installments. What I need from you is … which day of the week is the best day for you to spend a few minutes indulging in a serial novel because that’s what this looks like it’s going to be? Let me know in a comment and I’ll do my best to comply with the general consensus.

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What To Wear When You Work At Home & Other Thoughts

It’s 9:15 here and I’m still in my jammies. In a few minutes, I’ll change into my work clothes which often look like the photo below that John took of me the other day. That’s me with my sweet little Canon G11 that allows me capture most of the images you see here, at least those I’ve taken since September 2010.

My work at home attire must meet certain requirements, comfort and flexibility for movement are key so I can crawl out onto to the rocks if necessary when I want to get close to my subject. My camera must be in my other hand because I’m trying to get that stick out of my shot without falling in the water.

I need to tell you that this spot is walking distance from the house here in Cornwall and not  a photo from New Zealand as John and I like to refer to it when discussing it in passing as in, ” You know the river spot that looks like it’s from a Peter Jackson movie.”

Yesterday, I attended a planning strategy meeting. I left the laptop and cell phone behind and took notes the old-fashioned way with a pen on some small squares of paper which I carried in my pocket and scribbled on when I had an idea I thought might work for a novel I’m writing. I was interrupted a few times in the lanes by passing cars requiring me to give way. Some even caught me with pen and paper in hand which must have looked funny given I was dressed for a run like in the first photo. (The photo below is one of the lanes in summer)

There were some other distractions though, seven to be specific. Unlike the old days when a colleague might drop by to discuss a project, my distractions were a different sort. Having intentionally left my camera at home yesterday, I have to substitute a couple of older photos taken on days out like yesterday. Distractions that like to give your hand a lick and wag their tail with delight are always welcome in my world.

This was taken in the buttercup field I’m always referring to in other posts.

Here are a few examples of past work clothing.

I had to wear this look five days a week for three and a half years. It made getting ready for work in the morning very easy.

I’m on the far left in this shot taken during my pharmaceutical career. I won a sales award that night. Judging by the look on my face this must have been taken before I won it. This company did not like for women to wear slacks to work even if it was a suit. Not sure how the woman in the back pulled it off. ( I never realized the size of those shoulder pads, yikes! )

This was taken on a day when I did a presentation along with a local physician who talked about HIV related anemia. I remember this day very well because an older man on crutches (permanent, not temporary) came up to me later and shook my hand. He held it a bit longer than one normally would and said, ” You’re a writer ” which was totally out of context for the event and certainly unrelated to anything I had said that day. I remember I got all teary and had to work to keep from crying.

His look was intense and later when I asked someone about him, they said he had a gift for knowing things and that people went to see him for help. They stopped short of saying psychic as he didn’t like to be called psychic, but said he was known for helping people with his gift. It was certainly an unexpected gift to me that day. To have a stranger sum up something so important, something I barely allowed myself to think about as a real possibility given my work schedule and other things, well … I’ve never forgotten it.

I worked with these ladies on projects a time or two. This one was a breakfast on World AIDS Day. Three of us were working for pharmaceutical companies while Debra at the far left, organized the breakfast and worked for a local hospital at the time. She went on to work with Karen who is standing behind me. Karen ended up working for my old company when she and Debra where downsized from her longtime employer.

Sometimes my work day attire was more fun that other days and I had to hang out with half-naked men. No jokes please about that fanny pack or bum bag, depending on your country of origin, that I’m wearing around my waist. It was a company giveaway and I had to do it.

This was a bad phone photo of me dressed for work in 2008 when I was working for a local hospice. I was in a doctor’s office at the time and wanted to email John a photo of me at work. Can you tell I like black?

 

Elizabeth Harper - Wedding Photographer 2009

Here’s a job I love doing and what I generally like to wear when I’m working. (Note … I hate to shoot posed group shots like this and only do it on request) I’m not sure who to credit for this photo.

John took this one of me shooting from the balcony of a church in Barford, England as the bride was entering. I like to wear black when I photograph weddings and so far no one has yet to confuse me with a waiter. If anyone ever asks me for a drink, I’ll just smile innocently and say, ” Yes please.”

That’s it for today, I’ve got to tie on my work shoes and hit the road for another planning meeting. Sometimes I talk to myself when I’m working through plot lines and yesterday I got caught by an older man who I didn’t see working behind a hedge in his back garden. I felt obliged to stop and explain and I’m still not sure if what I said made sense. His Cornish accent was pretty thick and one can only say, “Pardon?” so many times without feeling foolish. It’s the kind of thing that could come up later in pub conversation as in, ” Aye, did ya know that American girl talks to herself when she’s writing her notes in the lanes. “

Sounds like a partial blurb for a book jacket in a way … American author, Elizabeth Harper, wrote much of her first published novel on notecards while pretending to run through the lanes around the village in Cornwall that she calls home. It was only after hearing a bit of good-natured pub chatter about her antics that she decided on the title, ” Mad Lizzy ” for this well written first book.

It’s actually not the name of the novel I’m working on, but I like it so well that I might use it for something later. What do you think?

 

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Why My Camera Is Not Good For My Health

I probably won’t need to explain the title of this post once you see the photos from yesterday taken during what was supposed to be a brisk walk for my health. With friends my age having knee surgeries and long recoveries, I’ve been forced to pay attention to my own aches and pains instead of trying to medicate (acetaminophen) them away and denial is no longer a practical solution either.

Since I can no longer disregard my aging, overused, knees, and hips, walking has taken the place of running these days. Speed seems to be my biggest issue as I can’t seem to move fast enough to affect my cardiovascular system.

I’ve not really slowed down that much in shifting from running to walking as I was never the fastest runner in any race, but walking makes it easier to see my surroundings which makes me want to pause for a photo more often than is good for me. A brisk walk becomes a stroll and before you know it, all I have is a photo essay of my walk and a need for larger trousers.

I thought someone should get something out of it my ” exercise program ” so I’m sharing a few photos of my distractions from yesterday.

A walk though these woods in any season has the feel of a cathedral and I am always in awe of the changing light.

A few steps farther along the same path on the way to the buttercup field. Notice how the path forks just up ahead.

No need to explain these lovelies.

The photo above is the area that John and I refer to fondly as the buttercup field. I know it looks pretty ordinary now, but it will be a stunning field of gold by May.

This is just a peek over a hedge at the trees below waiting to shake off the last bits of their winter look.

I never seem to capture how lovely these stone steps really look. I work with angle and exposure over and over, but I am never satisfied and wish I could walk you to this place to show you what I mean.

I make my way back to the village green where the daffodils are in full bloom and cross down to the churchyard to see what kind of color I can find there.

Yellow flowers fill the churchyard for now, but soon they’ll be competing for a bit of grassy space with the many-colored primroses that come every spring. If you look above the church door in the top left of the photo, you can see a sundial near the arch.

This sundial may seem old with a date of 1780, but there are other dates around the churchyard and inside the church that are actually much older.

I’ve taken this shot before as some of you may remember from older posts. It requires getting into a prone position to get the right angle and after all my exertion from my big ” workout ” I was tempted to have a little snooze in the sun. I did consider that finding me lying prone in the churchyard surrounded by flowers might be a bit disconcerting for someone passing by.

My friend Patrice is the latest in my Atlanta circle requiring knee surgery and if you’d think a good thought for her recovery, I’m sure she’d be grateful. Ironically she was demonstrating the proper way to run to a patient of hers when her knee went. Patrice and I ran the Marine Corps Marathon together in Washington D.C. in 2007. Given our aging joints, I have a strong feeling that may be the last big run for both of us.

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Finding Funds When Your Money Tree Has Been Cut Down

In the US, you can sometimes overhear parents telling their children that ” Money doesn’t grow on trees ” so imagine my surprise when I noticed a money tree that had been cut down and left along a walking path here in the UK.

Never having seen one before, I decided that I must have just grown up in the wrong part of the world for money trees. Judging by what you can see below, I’ll agree that it might take a while to accumulate enough for a major purchase seeing how most of the money looks like pocket change.

I’m usually just fine these days with what I have in life and grateful for the things I own. I feel fortunate on many levels, but sometimes I must admit to coveting the occasional ” want ” or some item that not really a need.

Recently I woke from a dream with a clear memory of a bicycle. It was red and retro with a perfect little basket and even in my sleep I wanted it.

Yesterday, John and I walked into a store near where we live and there it was, the bike in my dream!  Okay, it was missing the basket, but I have one already that’s been waiting for the right bike.

Given the price, it’s going to take me some time to save up my money because I have other places I need to spend it now. Plus, it’s not really a need and I’m not going to die if I don’t get it, but like a child whining for candy in the checkout line,

I waaaant it!

 

Hmm … I wonder if I can remember where we saw that money tree.