Fly

We're off! Like the BILLIONS of geese that flock in the fields around my house. Not like the millions of blackbirds all in my trees.

Flying south for the winter like a bird...a motif very appropriate for this winter.

Ha, crazy birds all over my house. I've outsmarted you. You can stay here and screech all you want. I'm the bird now.

We are headed to Belize. Scuba, snorkel, read, write, look at some Mayan ruins. I'll try to be in touch but we'll be living like the natives so I don't know about Internet, but you never know.

Have a beautiful weekend! Love and happiness to you and your loved ones!

Flightily,
Liza Jane

Friday I'm in Love

Happy Friday!

After a long week I hope you find the fun, or solace, or joy or laughter you need after a long week. 

Hope you didn't get your hopes up, but these are the long-awaited hunting pictures from Wednesday morning.

This is an eagle!!! I know you can't really see it that well, but I got really excited about it.

Told you not to get your hopes up. Anyway, love to you on this Friday evening!

Finally,

Liza Jane

Flower

My heart is a flower

that blooms every hour

I believe in the power

of love...

(Amos Lee song, I didn't come up with that).

Powerfully,

Liza Jane 

Wade in the Water

This morning, we got up at five, put on our layers, made some coffee, and went out on the thingy with the loud engine (can't think of the name of it at the moment--I got up at 5), tripped around in tall weeds, waded in cold water up to our knees and looked up at the sky for 3 hours.

 I went duck hunting. 

It's my husband's favorite thing in the world. Besides me, I hope.

It's a good thing we live on the land, and he can go out and do his favorite hobby right beside his front yard. Then again, I can do 3 of my favorite hobbies in the front living room.

I am so frustrated. This week I have been bullied by technology. I couldn't get pictures from my camera on here yesterday, and now my phone, which I used to take hunting pictures is misbehaving. So maybe some day you'll be able to see the pictures I have taken of life lately, namely blackbirds yesterday and Jackson and Will hunting in the watery woods this morning. My apologies for the google found images, and this one is attributed to onlinemusicsheets.com. Thank you for your patience. I love this gospel song. Just beautiful. 

It wasn't the most perfect hunt. We needed more sun. The ducks could see me apparently. Will said my face was like a flashlight to them when they're in the clouds. I said, "I know I'm pale but come on now, a flashlight?"

We are so different, men and women. Just remember that. It spices life. If you're not getting along, just know that we are different, and we are different for a reason. Thank goodness for Venus and Mars, otherwise how boring and unproductive life would be.

Palely,

Liza Jane

Blackbird

FLY!!

Get out of my yard. I'm serious.

(en.wikipedia.org)

These things showed up at the end of October. I woke up one day and said, "Hmm, there sure are a lot of blackbirds all over the place." And then I had the audacity to say, in the beginning of November, "It's kind of cool how they fly in unison like that." End of November: "These birds are getting on my nerves." December: (Will's shotgun going off to scare them away) "GET OUT!"

January: (disheveled hair, a little crazy from the screeching noises): "Please leave. Please go. Away. Fly away. Please. I beg." If they aren't gone by February, there is a chance that I could be in a mental ward acting and screeching like a blackbird. 

It's weird to wake up and feel like you're in the Alfred Hitchcock movie, Birds. They scour every inch of the ground. They flock to one tree and then move on to the next when they've had enough of being hellish on the former's branches. 

Why do they come here? I don't know. I guess the leader of the pack hates us and wants to prove some kind of point. I was out in the yard, dodging bullets while picking pecans. They were screeching at each other: "Hey, what's she doing? Picking up our scraps from the ground? Get her!" Then came the white rain, and I yelled at them to go back to where they came from!! I'm not scared of bird doo. So shoo!!! (Yes, I am quite afraid of bird #2). So their conspiracy theory worked, and I ran like the dickens. They win every time.

But the cardinals and goldfinches are cute so I don't know. I always pictured myself loving all animals with little birds and creatures flocking around me like Cinderella. I'm confused. There's too much noise around me. I can't think anymore. 

(allaboutbirds.org) iPhoto not working. 

So what is a girl to do? What does the typical woman consumed with thousands of blackbirds do?

The best thing: Breath. Just breathe. Exasperation will take its toll. But not if I pay attention to breath, right? I am here. Serenity now.

Blackbird, "take your broken wings and learn to fly" OUT OF MY LIFE.

I am only waiting for that moment to be free. Blackbird, fly.

Ornithologically,

Liza Jane

Honky Tonk Women

Nashville. The show. Wednesday nights at 10/9 Central Standard Time on ABC. I'm hooked.

Obviously, this is to be expected. I get quite the kick out of seeing these places where I have had major milestones of my life being broadcasted on national TV via a hot, new soap opera. "Oh my goodness, that's where we had our wedding reception!"or "I ordered an awesome salad in that restaurant!" or "I had a really awkward moment right there where they're standing!" or "I heard there's a good sushi restaurant in that neighborhood!"

Nashville is famous now. Maybe it always has been, but now I'm acting like it's an old friend who hit the big-time.

But I haven't been this enthralled in a show since Grey's Anatomy. No explanation there. Other than the fact that I was young, okay? Not my fault. Everyone else was watching it. 

(opry.com)

It's a little ridiculous when you say, "No I don't think I'll be able to come. Why? Nashville. No, the show. I'll be watching the show Nashville."

What can I say? I love story. I love the city. It's a perfect combo. Please don't judge my addictions. 

Hooked,

Liza Jane

Ice Ice Baby

Oh brother. We were in some ice yesterday. 

I got off work early. That hasn't happened since the snow days in Nashville. I remember those days with both bliss and terror. Fishtailing up a hill after learning how to drive, not so fun. But seeing my school's name on the Snowbird Report, very fun. And then later, getting a text from someone at the office, very fun. 

But this is not snow. And I like the stuff that makes up my days now. So "ice days" are not the same as "snow days" for me at this point. However...

These are a few of my favorite things. 

So it's cold, freezing, dreary...but hey, hot chocolate, a laptop, and a fire, very fun.

Cozily,

Liza Jane

Car Wheels on a Gravel Road

I love this Lucinda Williams song. 

Mostly, because it speaks so poignantly to my life. Which has a lot to do with car wheels on a gravel road. Or if it's been raining forever, car wheels on a muddy, nasty road.

Driving occupies a good amount of my time, naturally.

And I always feel bad when I see sadness on the side of the road. Look away from the road kill. I cannot sympathize enough with the people who run into these animals from all walks of the kingdom. And the animals. But now, I especially have compassion for the driver...

My car wheels were rolling along my gravel road the other night when I saw something that looked like an oversized mouse run out in front of my car. I would have swerved into the ditch like an animal-sensitive idiot, had I realized it fast enough. It all happened too fast. All I saw was the blurry flash of mid-sized grey, the strange kangaroo hind leg action (I honestly said, "what was that, a kangaroo?!"), and heard the accident underneath my car. I did not enjoy that. I won't go into details. I will spare you.

It's just part of this magical life so get used to it.

The mystery animal was a bobcat, according to a local animal whisperer I happen to be married to.
Oh man, it looked like a real cat. It looked like my sweet Baby Blue. I'm not going to get all sentimental on y'all, but these things happen. And apparently, bobcats eat baby turkeys.


I don't know. The point, ladies and gentlemen, is be careful when you're driving.

It's supposed to freeze rain here. Great. So be extra careful if you live in the Delta. Weather has been so lovely lately, not a sun in the sky. 

Cautiously, 

Liza Jane 

Son of a Preacher Man

Looking through all my blog posts, I feel like I might have a personality disorder.

Some are funny, some are trying to be funny, some are sad, some are happy and extremely optimistic, some are just plain weird, some are....well, preachy. 

If you think I'm preachy, then you got another thing coming missy/mister! Another thing is that you might be right. 

Righteousness is something I had from the very beginning. I came out of the womb with soapbox included, pumping my newborn fist, orating a speech about the use of natural herbs for medicinal purposes.

The thing about it that you have to realize: I'm really just preaching to myself. And if it helps you in some tiny way then my good intentions were worth it. I figure we all need all the help we can get. None of us heavenly cherubs, perhaps some deep thought into how to affect things in a better way wouldn't be so bad. Not bad at all.

These are the things I love to think about, talk about and share. No perfection or even excellence at any of this stuff, whatsoever, exists in this household. But every day, (well, the good ones at least) I'm trying to practice what I preach. 

Preachily,

Liza Jane

Dear Prudence

Prudence is the ability to govern or discipline yourself with reason. There's the vocabulary lesson for the day. 

One time long ago, in a land far away, I think I might have had this quality. Then, like a Forest Gump feather on a breeze, it drifted away from me. And I didn't notice because I was too busy daydreaming, staring out my window, and thinking about random stuff like what I would say if I met Oprah.

My goal for about a year now has been to get into a routine of some sort. Get up at 6, yoga for an hour, write for an hour, get going, tend to business, kick some booty, and then win a couple of awards. But guess what? It's going to take more than saying I'll do it. 

Jackson and I need a little more structure. He's actually got more of a schedule than I do. 

It could all be for a very good reason. I mean I live on a farm, have a part time job...every day is different. Could it be part of the transition phase?

I might have to go through this dreamy phase before I get into the action phase. But I feel the action phase kicking in. 

Dear Prudence, 

Please save my professional life.

Showing that discpline! Upward facing dog!

Anywho, another thing to work on. 

Ha, now I'm staring out the window thinking about the Beatles. Wonder if John Lennon was thinking the same thing I am?

Prudently,

Liza Jane

Good Vibrations

Have you ever walked into a room, turned around, and walked straight out of it?

Something going on there wasn't quite right. You could tell from the creased foreheads and mean gossip. The frequency you were on was simply not the frequency of vibration in that room so you needed to leave. 

Sunrise this morning. 

Or maybe you were on a lower frequency, sulking about like a porcupine, and you walked into a room where the people in there looked like they were having a gay tea party from the Victorian era, being very polite and laughing like there was no tomorrow, perhaps waltzing about the room. Nope, need to leave this room too. Where was that room with the creased foreheads?

Lately, I've been thinking about vibration frequencies. If everything is energy, then everything is vibrating at different frequencies.

Is it possible to raise one's frequency? And if that is possible, is it true that we can raise the frequency of a room with a low one? Maybe we can raise the frequency of the person we happen to be talking to at the moment or the person with whom we spend the most time. 

Just something to think about...

Light it up, raise it up.

We went to Compass Bowl to watch the Rebels play in Birmingham last weekend. Glad I got to see a few family members and friends. Now I'm happy to be home and working to raise the frequency.

Frequently,

Liza Jane

Help!

When I was in seventh grade, they blindfolded us and made us walk around like that.

No I'm not about to tell you about some Sister Mary Terrible that punished severely for speaking out of turn. I loved my Sister Maries. No this was some type of leadership retreat they made us do. Usually, leadership retreats ended with somebody getting expelled or suspended. Like I did that one time (it was a strict Catholic school). Rebelling against leadership. The story of my life.

Sarah, Stuart and I on New Year's Eve. New Orleans was big and easy. Nothing like a night with your closest friends. Stu was the one who got suspended with me on the leadership retreats in 7th grade.

Anyway, we were blindfolded and hung on to a rope. It was some sort of rope maze, and we had to figure out how to get out of it by just following the ropes. The trick was that there was no way out of the maze unless you asked for help. 

Name after name was announced leaving the maze, and I was getting angrier by the second. Finally, I was like "I've felt all over this place! There is no way out!" They said, "Do you want some help?" I said, "No! I'd rather die! I'll find my own way!" (I don't think it was that dramatic, maybe more like "No thank you, sir. I'm sure I'm getting close.") 

Sarah, Stuart, me and Mary Brette. We got to see Greg Allman at the House of  Blues. Wonderful, wonderful. I feel so wonderful.

But after 4 hours of listening to all the other kids groan about the other activities they wanted to do, I asked for help. That's when they took my blindfold off. Besides for the 20 grouchy and angry kids standing in front of me, I saw their tricky-ticky-tacky little point. Ask for help. You can't do it by yourself.

Funny, how I was the last, most stubborn, insubordinate child in the bunch about this issue. Goes to show why that's a lesson I've learned over and over in my life.

Here's the thing: Nothing that you will do can be done alone. Nothing. You're thinking: "What? I do lots of stuff on my own. I don't need a freaking support group to make my bed." And you're right. Please don't go hire a butler to help you eat your oatmeal. 

Having a butler would be fantastic. I personally would love that. But we've all got something better: God. 

God is closer than you think. God is within. I've made so many mistakes. Most of the time, I didn't take the time to ask for guidance. I am still making those lame accidents. Because this no-help conditioning still has a little grip on my psyche. I mean this morning alone I've made two. But I buffered up and got aligned.

So it's constant communication, constant connection with that powerful Source within. That's the only thing that will save you from a blind rope course. God bless those cheesy little retreats and their trick activities. 

As you might know, I don't believe in resolutions. A hard-rock head like mine has to do around-the-clock work to make self-improvements.  But if you have some resolutions (and they are great, they just don't work on me), maybe some talking to the one who made you might help. Especially if the resolution seems bigger than you. Nothing at all wrong with Divine Support. And it's free! 

Communicatively,

Liza Jane