is a bad memory; says -- Rita Mae Brown. I think this is true. If we hold on to the sad memories we could probably never be truely happy. I don't mean to forget the sad or bad things that have happened. I do mean to not hold tight to unhappiness. Sometime we hug our sadness so tight to our hearts that nothing else can get in and there is so much joy in the world if we are open to it.
On a fun note, I went over to Terri's house this morning and had a facial and tried out some cosmetics with that pink cosmetic company. A nice lady from Randolph came over and we tried some stuff and had our face and hands done. It was a real nice time but I really am a sucker for cosmetics. I love lip stick and eye shadow the most! So I got some of each in fall and winter shades.
Nearly finished with my third t-shirt rug and finished the pumpkin hat for baby Hayden. I will try to get a picture of him in it as it looked good, if I do say so myself. Terri and I will go over to Loose Ends Yarn Shop tomorrow evening for her drop in class on mosaic knitting. I always have such a nice time at Michele's shop. I am also going to a fashion show with a friend tomorrow for lunch. It is sponsored by the Hospital Auxiliary as a fundraiser so I will go have refreshments and then see what is supposed to be new in fashions for the fall.
Well, that's all I know today. Talk to you later,
Also heard of a book I want to read called Waiting for My Cats to Die: A Morbid Memoir by Stacy Horn. This is what Publisher's Weekly said about it:
Horn, a cyber-pioneer who launched Echo, a successful Gotham-based online community in the early '90s (and documented it in 1997's Cyberville), assembles haphazard thoughts on her samba drumming career, her diabetic cats, death and the single life, in this morbid but engagingly quirky memoir. Although she has no reason to believe that her own mortality is imminent (she's in her early 40s), Horn dives into the subject with all the zeal of a Baptist preacher. She discusses it online with peers and on the phone with elderly people, analyzes her cats' reactions to aging, and even explores the mystery of a ghost who supposedly haunts her apartment. That zeal is what holds this otherwise confused approach to understanding midlife together. In some chapters, Horn discusses particular aspects of her life and their deeper meaning, from what she presents as her hopelessly pudgy stomach to the fate of her business. In other sections--the book's tightest--she interviews senior citizens in an attempt to prove that wisdom comes with old age. However, what she finds through many of her conversations is that those who've lived a great deal of life often have no special secrets or knowledge to impart. The polls she conducts among Net-savvy New Yorkers on Echo add to her research and demonstrate that she's not alone in wistfully envying a 24-year-old's body. Although this work lacks focus and a clear thesis, it's a remarkably candid account of one woman's acceptance of aging, piqued with heartening moments of exhilaration.
Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.