A lot of people I know are counting the minutes until 2009 is in the rearview mirror. It was a rough year for so many, I cannot disagree. It didn't turn out exactly as I had planned. But as you might have read in the Thanksgiving letter, I have no complaints. (My annus horriblus was 2007 — I thought that one would never end. And nobody much liked 2001.)

Overall, I have to say: Best. Decade. Ever. For me personally, the Aughts ruled. New people, new places, new jobs, new blessings with each passing year. Ten years ago tonight, I said "2000 is going to be my year." And it wasn't too bad. Actually 2002 was my year. And 2003 wasn't shabby. And 2004, now THAT was a year … and 2008 was fantastic …

AlthoughI approach with 2010 with more uncertainty than perhaps any other year of the past 10, I know it's going to be a good one — nay, a GREAT one. Let's get it started.

Hi. Rough week. Here's the thing:

Don't make the rest of us do stupid, time-consuming things at the airport just because you screwed up. Yes, I care about "homeland security." You should too. That's why we have a no-fly list. And intelligence [in both senses of the word.] If you use them, then little old ladies from Dubuque and frequent-flier sales people from Peoria and little old me don't have to go through the rigamarole to prove we are not intent on blowing up the American Eagle Connection.

You have the tools and technology. Use them. Don't inflict pointless searches on us because, I promise you, we are not carrying explosive powder in our underpants.

In our business we hear a lot about the 80-20 rule. Look it up. Then apply it: focus on the 20 percent (more like 5 percent, I'd wager). Ground them. Leave the rest of us alone.

Happy new year.

We had a wonderful Christmas — one of the best ever. We hardly did anything except just hang out, laugh, and spend time together. I'm not a big one for games but we play plenty of them since three young masters enjoy them. My brother (who tries his best to tamp down his competitive urges) found a copy of an old card game, Mille Bornes, that our neighbors used to play. In a moment of weakness I agreed to play with my nephew, parents, and siblings. It was fun — but let there be no doubt, it was ON. Here's a little snippet, shot with my new pocket videorecorder.

Download Mille Borne

For Christmas Eve service we went to the Episcopal church in our neighborhood. I was lured by the promise of traditional carols, traditional liturgy, traditional vestments. It was a beautiful, high holy service, perfumed by incense. Deep in my bones, I love ritual.

One of the joys (and burdens) of coming back to the hometown is that it's impossible to go anywhere without running into someone I know. In this instance I saw people from nearly every phase of my time at [the company where I work] but the biggest surprise was my high school principal. Yes, it's been 25 years since I last saw him.

He was ushering at this service, and was one of the final people to receive Communion. It was special to see him, and everyone, in this special time and place.

My dad and I talked to the ex-principal briefly after the service and I said, "You probably can't go anywhere in this town without seeing a former student!"

"Yes, he said,"a lot of time people will come up to me and say, 'You don't remember me, do you?' and all I can say is, 'Well, it depends … how much time did you spend in my office?"

Come ye thankful people come, raise a song of harvest home

Thanks for my family, above all else. They are unfailingly supportive in all areas of my life.  My parents, sister, brother and nephew trekked to Northern Ireland to see me, and they have been to Georgia already. We’ve had a wonderful time!

Thanks for friends near and far, old and new. I am forever reminded of the incredible network of people in my life, even those with whom I am in rare contact but still remain important.

All is safely gathered in ere the winter storms begin

Thanks for a year of safe travels – I was fortunate to get to six countries (and back!) without incident.

Thanks for the climate in Northern Ireland, which suited me perfectly. There’s a sentence you won’t read every day.

God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied

Thanks for my job. I write that with great emotion as I know some people can’t say that this year, or have been forced to take a job that they do not enjoy. I have wonderful co-workers, I work for a tremendous company, and I love what I do.

Thanks for my house. Or should I say, the house that the bank owns but lets me live in. Please come visit.

Come to God’s own temple come

Thanks for my church in Northern Ireland, Fitzroy Presbyterian Church, which made my 15 months there so meaningful. The people I met there opened their hearts and homes, and supported me literally to my final moments in the country. I miss them terribly.

Thanks for friends from my childhood church, who now live in this area (would you believe it?) and continue to be there for me in whatever I need. What peace of mind – the most secure I have felt in all my relocations.

Raise a song of harvest home

Thanks for the advantages of a big city: the music, museums, professional sports, restaurants and incredible diversity. My heartstrings are still tuned to Belfast, but I am finding new melodies each month in my own backyard.

Atlanta has the country’s busiest airport, which means there are flights arriving nearly every minute. Please consider when your nearest departing flight might bring you here – I would love to see you.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family, and I wish you a blessed Christmas and an incredible 2010.

 

All the best,

Lori

 

A house isn't really home for me until all the artwork is up on the walls. I have a lot of artwork, some of which has never been framed nor shown in my private gallery (aka the hall). And so it was that I trundled off to the mega-craft store to buy some frames, because getting them custom done is just darn pricey.

Mapgirl Dark Secret #79: I am not good at selecting /assembling / doing anything with frames that does not involve getting them custom done.

Continue reading “the great frame-up” →

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• Someone died in my childhood bedroom before we lived there. Apparently it was a young child. My sister dropped this fact in conversation during a visit last weekend. I had no idea. No, nothing ever seemed strange or spooky in that room. It's still one of my favorite places in the world. But that's just bizarre.
• There are snakes in my yard. At this very minute. My neighbor told me Sunday. Her daughter saw them as they were in my yard playing in the pile of fallen leaves. I think this might be a campaign of terror to get me to rake them. Joke's on you guys; it has had the opposite effect. But I do have moments of panic: can a snake scale a stair?
• There are a lot of calories in a Chil-Fil-A shake. A terrifying number. In fact, that's the scariest thing I learned this week.

A special fowl has arrived in these climes, the elusive Foobird..** The migration will be short one [just a weekend, one of the advantages of living near the country's busiest airport] but it is busy.

The Foobird is a nester, so a fair bit of time has been spent on the local habitat. Some attention was devoted to plumage as well via the local massage therapist. The Foobird has a wide range of dietary habits, usually involving crackers or tortilla chips, which are found in these parts.

The Foobird has strong powers of listening and observation which were put to good use during conversation and trips around the migration area. The Foobird was on display to the handful of trick-or-treaters who enjoyed her exotic calls.

Tomorrow she flies back to the original ground from which she came. She will be missed, but we look forward to the next season in which she will swoop in with her love and brightness. She is the best of the flock.

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** aka my sister

I gambled a bit in going to the Atlanta Botanical Garden today. I wanted to see the "Moore in America" sculpture exhibit and there are only two weekends left. Today the weather was absolutely perfect: mid-60s and sunny, with fall colors at their peak. I didn't want to risk waiting; at the same time, going today meant sharing the garden with a zillion families, notably little tykes dressed up in Halloween finery for "Goblins in the Garden."

You know my motto: Fortune favors the brave. And a special kind of courage is called for when you arrive at the botanical garden and find scores of bees, frogs, alligators, Batmen, Spider-Men, princesses, pumpkins and Maxes* already there before you.

Yes, they were adorable. Each and every one of them was incredibly sweet, as they rode the little train and painted pumpkins and handled earthworms in the "petting zoo." Those Botanical Garden people are marketing geniuses. So many parents, so much purchasing power.

Halloween is reaching near-Christmas proportions in its advent and longevity, but I'm beginning to think that's fueled in part by parents wanting to maximize their investment in the children's costume. The more events that take place around Halloween, the more opportunities to wear the costume, so the better you feel about buying the fancy costume. There were some pretty elaborate ones on display today.

I wanted to take pictures of some of them but that could be frightening from the parents' point of view. I do wish I'd snapped some pics of my all-time favorite little guy, who was dressed as a UPS delivery man, complete with parcel to be delivered. The get-up was absolutely perfect, a UPS-brand badge on the front of his tiny brown shirt. His mom saw my delighted expression and explained, "He loves UPS. He loves our UPS driver, whose name is Mr. Ricky. So when I asked him what he wanted to be for Halloween, he said, 'Mr. Ricky.' " Oh, it was priceless.

I hope he was featured in the parade at 3:15 p.m. I'll never know, though — by then I was long gone and celebrating the day at a bistro in Decatur. Roll on October!

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* as in Max, the hero of the book/movie "Where the Wild Things Are"