You Can't Always Get What You Want

Mississippi at the end of March. I don't live here for nothin'. I want some sticky heat. So heat it up. This is ridiculous. In all my years, never have I ever seen winter last this long. Honestly, what the hell?

I Can't Get No Satisfaction.

I'm the kind of person that thrives on change, on newness. Waking up to the stinking blackbirds and the frost on the ground is getting old. I want to put on a bathing suit and get a sunburn (I take it back, I take it back). 

Plus, as someone who gets cold in the spring without at least 3 layers on, I want it hot, hot, hot. The bloodless, ice-cold extremities I call my fingers are sick and tired. They want to strangle that stupid groundhog. 

Oh so you come here to escape from negative journalism? To be taken to the bright side of the road? Perhaps to be uplifted?

You know I won't let you down. Polly Anna herself right here.

It is, after all, still Jackson Awareness month. 

Check out his awesome new haircut. He looks like Abraham Lincoln. When I was talking to the stylist,  I said,"how about something Abe Lincoln-ish. You know with a beard and all?"

I thought if I got Jackson shaved, maybe Mother Nature would catch my drift. 

"Look see here, my dog wants to take off his coat. The humans do too. My husband is tired of building fires. Let's turn up the thermostat, all righty?"

Old man loves his beard. He's like a hippy dog now. Plus, his wrinkle neck is covered.

"...but if you try sometimes, you might find

You get what you need!"

It's true. If Mick Jagger said it, it's true. You need whatever frustrating, confusing, cold thing is happening in your life. You need it. So take it.

Jackson had a major flea problem last year. We had a major flea problem last year. It was a warm, short winter last year, and all the bugs loved it. They lived through it all. So last summer was like a nightmarish plague in the Old Testament. 

For the sake of Jackson, this weather is good for the comfort of his precious skin. You see? There I am with the bright side. You'll walk away smiling, perhaps a couple of endorphins? But I'm still freezing.

Coldly,

Liza Jane

Wild Thing

The other day I was minding my P's and Q's when I saw something that I truly could not identify. 

Four legs... 

And its ears are pointy...could be a deer.

But wait, it looks to have a long tail. And yes, a snout. 

I called the animal whisperer, telling him it looked like a hyena but taller--skinny. 

He said, "It's a coyote!" 

"I knew that."

And that's when I stopped my quest to walk out there to pet the mysterious creature. I've heard them yelping in their groups at night, heard stories about them, watched cartoons about them as a kid, but here it was right before my eyes. A coyote.

I told my mom, thinking she would think I was such a pioneer woman. She said, "Oh yeah? I saw one the other day in my driveway." Geez, I never saw one walking the streets of Nashville. So I guess it's not that special. But it was to me! My first coyote.

Where the wild things are...

And today, my little Canadian geese came in to snoop around. The third one is over to left. You'll have to squint to see it with my awesome photography. She's decided to plop down there. I told her to make herself right at home. I can tell she feels like a third wheel. 

And then yesterday, I was in the middle of a stampede.  

They were--headed--right--for me!!

I've never seen cows run that fast. I never did the running with the bulls in Spain, but now I feel like I don't need to. They really can run fast. And here you have to dodge the big bull piles, makes it all the more challenging.

I was at my in-laws' place. This is their lovely home in the middle of nowhere. Decided to drop by on my way to town. 

Belted Galloway cows. Beautiful beasts. The ass back there got jealous. See the donkey? Man I love how animals have personalities. Except for that coyote. 

Then I spotted this creature in my yard, doing some kind of mating ritual? Just kidding. Oh my goodness. He would die. Let's all pray he never reads this. 

He didn't know it, but he was mowing an L in the yard. He is so artistic--doesn't even know it. 

 Here's to the wild things! The definition of wild is evolving for me every day. The old wild that I was is not the new wild. High school and college wild vs. natural and free-spirited wild. Wild went from being a bad thing to something I truly aspire to be. Hopefully, we are all in the process of becoming. Truer to our true nature. Wild and free.

Wildly,

Liza Jane

Think

"You better think, think!

Think about what you're tryin' to do to me

Yeah think, think, think!

Let your mind go on, let yourself be free"

Queen of soul--Aretha Franklin. (Courtesy of biography.com)

What are you thinking about? Seriously think about it. Because your thoughts are creating your life.

Ever thought about someone and they called you? Ever thought about a song or randomly started singing it and then you hear it on the radio? Not a coincidence. 

If your thoughts are fearful, fearful stuff is on its way. If your thoughts are loving, the good stuff is on its way. 

So I need to heed this, personally. I am in for some major spring cleaning in my mind. I'm throwing out all the judgments and grievances. All the emotionally charged mental formations about the past. What good can they do? They certainly aren't making me feel good. 

Feelings, too, can create more of the same feelings. It's the law of attraction. Like attracts like. A real physical law. Newton's Third Law of Motion to be exact. So what are we putting out there? Because it's coming right back. But these thoughts and feelings, they will creep up on you. So it takes a whole lot of present moment awareness or consciousness. 

"People walkin' round every day, 

playin' games and takin' scores,

tryin' to make other people lose their minds

well be careful that you don't lose yours"

This is my favorite Aretha Franklin song. But I don't know because sometimes I dance on tabletops when I hear Respect. 

Thoughtfully,

Liza Jane

Irish Instrumental Song

So Happy St. Patrick's Day, all you Irish and non-Irish people. But let's face it. Somehow or another, we've all got Irish. If you don't have any Irish, you've got some Irish. You know what I'm saying, 

quit acting confused.

I went on down to the city yesterday. Decided I'd hear me some music and have me a little party and watch me a little parade. Okay sorry I'll stop that now.

It was fun. Jackson, Mississip gets a little wild for the Hal and Mal's St. Paddy's Day Parade. (Is it St. Patty's? It should be). I've never been able to go, and I was determined to go to it and do it right. 

I have this song on my iPod that just says "Irish Instrumental Song." No artist or title or anything. So it was obviously a part of a mix CD that I burned to my iTunes. It's so intense--I like to pretend I'm living in an Irish village in medieval times, and there's some kind of war going on, and I'm riding a horse in armor, saving people from perishing. Stop your judging. I know you do weird stuff too, perhaps just not quite as weird as I. 

In fact, one time I acted out a little dramatic scene like this one with my friend Sarah who most likely gave me the CD with the song on it. Can't help it, it just sounds like it belongs on some epically dramatic movie soundtrack. I like Irish music, but it's so incredibly random. 

The best is when people are over, and my iPod is in shuffle mode. Bonnie Rait, Tedeschi Trucks, Black Keys, then the Irish Instrumental Song comes on. I'm either laughing or bolting for the dock before anyones notices, depending on my security level of the moment. 

Anyway. As I was saying, yesterday was a good little St. Paddy's Day, even though it wasn't really St. Patty's Day. 

Parade--downtown Jackson.

So happy I got hang out with my friend Kristina! Love her! We're the ones in the green.

Parading

Then afterwards at Hal and Mal's, the Alabama Shakes shook it up. Awesome.

The lead singer Britney is the new Britney. Thank God she's replacing the other one. She's got soul, and she's super bad. She'll get you going, now. 

 I think she already deserves one-name status. All you got to do is hear her voice and feel her energy, and you know she is bad. In the really good way. Fire!

 Forget the luck of the Irish, we've got soul. 

Greenly,

Liza Jane

I'm Not Calling You a Liar

"Just don't lie to me." 

A word on fakeness, a word on graciousness. To be gracious, you have to delete the fakeness.

I was at a wedding a while back, and I was doing the ole small talk with an old friend. She asked me how I liked it out in the country. When I said, "Oh I love it!" She said, "Oh Liza, I don't believe you." And she didn't mean it in a, "You're so crazy!" kind of way. She meant it in a "You're lying." kind of way.

I just stared at her. Really? Did I sound like I was faking it? "No I truly do love it." She just shrugged. Weird. I really did mean it. I've never felt better. I can attest to fakeness in the past, but this was actually not at all fake. 

Yes, she had been drinking. But it was a strange sensation for me, because at once, I respected her for being so real, and at the same time, I was like "How dare you judge me and my beautiful life!" 

Then, one day, I had my last and final small talk fake conversation. I was done. I washed my hands of anything insincere, unauthentic, untrue, unreal. 

I still slip into them from time to time because you can't go around acting like Larry David. 

My hero.

Or can you?

I have whole friendships and relationships based on the fact that we have a common interest in being real. I love real people. I flock to them like a refrigerator magnet. 

Just because you're being real doesn't mean you get to act like a donkey. Or can you? Just kidding. No. Do no harm. If you're going to be smiling and warm and polite and respectful and kind and uplifting, let's make it authentic. 

So if you're in a moon time, you might want to just get away from people like a werewolf until your time has been lifted, and the hair recedes back. 

We have only one shot, they say. Let's make it real. 

Authenticity, baby!

Sincerely,

Liza Jane

PS: For a taste of the authentic, visit my friend Nancy's blog:  www.fancijaebyrd.blogspot.com

Jackson

We got married in a fever,

Hotter than a pepper sprout

Man I wish I could take credit for this one--but I have to hand it over to friend/cousin
Sha who took this shot the other day.

We've been talking 'bout Jackson,

ever since the fire went out. 

Nope. Can't take credit for this one either. Another friend/cousin Rachel shot this one a year ago.

Jackson brought me the ring. Both he and Will knelt before me. The two of them as a package deal were pretty irresistible. Sure, I'd have to move out into the middle of nowhere. But I loved nowhere. And these dudes could not be denied. After I said yes, there was an undisclosed amount of excitement, and Jackson wagged his tail ferociously. 

Best Up-Dog. You know the credit belongs to me with this one. 

So this one is dedicated to my numero uno, mi amigo mejor, my perro guapo y grande. Just kind of slipped into Spanish there.

 

Will says Jackson's birthday is somewhere in March. Since we don't know, we typically celebrate his life all month long. We love to talk about how wonderful our dog is (we're about as exciting as a knitting class these days). We do this in front of him because we know he can hear us.

I asked Jackson if he'd like to say a few words on his fake-maybe real-supposed birthday, and this is what I think he telepathically communicated to me: 

I'd like to go for a walk today, if that's cool with you. But right now, I have to go to the bathroom so if you could let me out, then after I do my business, I'm going to regally sit on the front porch step until you're ready to go. Oh, and could you scratch me right above my tail real fast? Oh yeah, right there.

I don't know what I did in my earlier years to karmically deserve this creature. But I'm all smiles today. 

You should be too! After Jackson Awareness month, it's spring, baby! 

Smiley,

Liza Jane

Tuesday's Gone

Where did it go? Seriously I look up, and it's four o'clock. 

Japanese magnolias in our front yard. 

Usually the first things to bloom in the spring besides for the Acony Bell, but you'd have to climb a mountain to see that one. 

Still a bit chilly, but when you can smell flowers in the air, something right is around the corner. 

Got to love that smell in the air, got to love spring. So beautiful. Aren't we lucky to be living here? Makes you want to praise the Designer. Think I might do that. 

Florally, 

Liza Jane

Monday Monday

Monday Monday, so good to me,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Tulips in McCarty vases

Monday.

I thought this was a pretty scene. M for Monday. M for McCarty. M for my mother-in-law (so kind to give me both of these McCarty vases and the McCarty wind chimes outside yonder), M for miraculous that the sun came out right when I was snapping this one, M for Martha Stewart? Looks pretty, but not quite. 

So hooray for tulip season. The best thing about tulips: the bell shape? the bright colors? the pure white? The best thing: they grow. Where other flowers start fading and wilting, tulips grow and start to form an artful posture. See my white ones above. 

Merry Monday in March to ya!

Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.

Modestly,

Liza  Jane

Sweet Nothing

What's this blog about? Nothing. A little blog about nothing (I was a big Seinfeld fan). 

You know nothing is really not a bad thing. Well, it's not any thing. It can't be a thing if it's no thing. A good nothing. The good kind? 

Well: 

nothing to wear: giving clothes away, making space in your closet for new things

nothing to do: space and time to dream, do what you please

nothing to say: time to listen

nothing to write: not good at all--this is called writer's block (hence)

Clean slate, zip, zero, nada, empty space, blank canvas, blank page, nothing to lose...

"You're giving me such sweet nothing" -Florence Welch

Crowded by all your things? Might be time for spring cleaning. Space for something new--sweet nothing. 

Openly,

Liza Jane

Baby Love

Bellies are getting bigger all around me. 

I've had some people radiantly confess some very special news to me lately. All around--in my work life, my friends, my clients, my family. 

But the last bit of news I heard had this girl pretty joyful. 

My brother is pregnant! 

Or, my sister-in-law is pregnant! They are pregnant together! Obviously.

A boy!

My prediction: He will be very intelligent but weird. He will love golf, Rod Stewart and music from the 80s. He will be athletic, social and sometimes say things to shock people in a funny way. He might be stubborn, but I bet he'll be the sweetest kid in Nashville. Green eyes for sure. 

I'm so excited! I'll be an aunt! And I'll make up little stories about ants. So he will remember that I'm his aunt. But then one day, he might get stung by an ant, and then that association would no longer serve me. I'll come up with something else. 

For now, I'm toasting to the smart, beautiful, charming couple above! Sending all the best feelings in the world your way!

Congratulatory,

Liza Jane

Happy Birthday to Ya

Best red velvet cake I ever had.

It was my husband's birthday on Wednesday. We had a little fete on Tuesday night to celebrate the old man. I'm just kidding, he's young. Well, young at heart. Definitely young at heart. More like a kid. Let's just say he fits right in with his little nephews in their playroom, with some legos and blocks. I'm glad he doesn't read this.

Real nice day--pretty sunset. Think I caught a cold walking out to look at this with my hair wet before everyone arrived. Or is that an old wives' tale? And where did the phrase come from? I'm pretty sure I learned in high school, but in one ear and out the other, right?

Pretty fancy dinner party. I'm sure you've seen this--all the guys end up in one room, and no boys allowed in the other. But everyone's definitely enjoying the meal. Thanks to my dear friend Elinor.

That looks pretty. I like the colors. I made the salad.

One lonely stuffed mushroom. Sad. So they were obviously delicious, but why won't anyone eat the last thing on a tray? Another little dinner party quirk.

The burning of Atlanta. The juicer is over there like,  Hey, what the? What about me? I thought you were trying to be healthy and now you're proudly parading sweets around. (Oh me).

Oh yeah and this is the cake halfway lit in case you want to see that. You don't? Well here it is. I think it's lovely. I want to see more cursive in the world. Me? No. The last time I did that was on a chalkboard in second grade. I like seeing it in my grandmother's letters though. And plus I'm busy trying to make my handwriting look as close to chicken scratch as humanly possible. 

Good. Act surprised, my sweet fella. 

Gearing up, getting ready. Man, people (I don't care who it is) get so happy when blowing out candles, birthday or reg.

He huffed and he puffed!

And blew the candles out! Right into my face!  Sheesh he got close. Lit him up. (Thanks to Will's sister Jessie who photographed all the live moment-to-moment action).

I said no cheese, and no cheese I did say. However, I have to note that my heart is happy and grateful for the life of this man. 

Another trip around the sun for Willy.

Happily,

Liza Jane