A Note to Eve

Dear Evie:

Thanks for wishing me a Happy Thanks-giving. As for your question, did you kill your own turkey? The answer is: no, turkey season is in the spring. :o)

But, if we had been stalking an unlucky turkey, this is what his "track" would have looked like. I took this picture on our "farm" on October 25th.

Much love, Leslie

BANG BANG...An Untraditional Thanksgiving

In my old life, a traditional Thanksgiving meant going to church, hearing the people in the congregation give thanks for blessings received during the year, followed by a yummy turkey and friends and family at my parents' house.

In my new life, everything is different. Thanksgiving means...shooting? That's right.

Today, instead of going to church, I called in to a church service broadcast by one of my former churches in Connecticut. It was fun to listen in...I could recognize many voices.

As is true with my new life, it was a day packed with adventure. My husband and I took a glorious bike ride around the plantation. On the way, we stopped at a car that was parked in the middle of the road. What were they doing? Give up? Why...seeding oyster beds, that's what. Of course. :o)

Then we came back to start the next adventure of the day. A little background...Jeff, my husband's best friend, passed on right before our wedding, and we have stayed close to his family ever since. His wife still lives next door for part of the year. So, today, we spent our Thanksgiving with her, and her daughter and son-in-law and two grandsons.

We took all of them -- minus Sara who was cooking -- to our "farm". Jesseca and I picked while the guys did "boy things." Here's a picture of me pickin'.


And, here's a picture of what we picked!


Then, she and I walked part of the grounds, ending up at the pond where the guys were fishing. Lots of fun, not a lot of fish.

Later on, we went shooting...that's what you can do when you live on a sporting plantation. Even the ladies shoot, usually not to kill, just to hit the sporting clays. I'm not there yet, but will let you know when I take my first shot.

A different Thanksgiving, for sure, but it was a great day.

Catching Up With You...

Hi everyone -- I'm back.

I've missed talking with you. You see, it's been a crazy couple of months. Easter came and went...I spent the week with my parents in CT, helping them to get the house ready for the big move to Chicago.

Here's an accounting of the weekends that followed...

Landon and I had our first wedding anniversary.
Landon's son Bo graduated from college.
Mother's Day was spent in CT with my mom, dad, and sister as we poured through the house, knowing that in 14 days, we'd be moved out.
I celebrated my "special day".
The following weekend was "the move."
Back to the Lowcountry where I needed some time to recoup and re-establish.

And, here I am.

My intention is to backdate some posts and to take you through that journey with me. It was the best of times, with some challenging times, but all in all, a lot packed into a short period of time.

Jump on and I'll take you for that ride!

Wild Dogs

OK, first I had to get used to the alligators down here. Then it was the snakes (rattlesnakes, copperheads). And, now it's...wild dogs?!

Tonight I got home from my trip up north. My husband hadn't come home yet and I was unpacking some things, thinking of taking the dogs for a walk in the field, when I received a call from a neighbor.

"Oh, you're home!, she exclaimed, "I thought I heard a car." And, then she proceeded to tell me that I couldn't go out for a walk because there had been an attack of wild dogs, feral dogs who apparently were living in the woods next to our house. They had killed a deer there. And then...

On Wednesday of last week, two ladies on horseback were crossing the field near our house when suddenly a pack of dogs came running out of the woods and started attacking the horses. Can you imagine? These dogs were between 35 - 50 pounds, attacking horses that weigh 1,100 lbs. Now, that's aggressive!

My other neighbor, John, was driving down the road and saw it all happen before his eyes. He told me he was happy that he happened to have a rifle in the back seat of his car. (That's one of the things that I still can't get used to -- everyone seems to have, and to carry, a gun with them. Bizarre to a city girl when seeing a gun usually meant your life was in danger. Now my life is endangered when I don't have a gun. People use them to shoot the alligators, the snakes and other threatening creatures...)

Back to the attack: John told me that when he arrived at the scene, the dogs were attacking the horses and the ladies were trying to dismount because they were worried that their horses would spook and then buck them off. John didn't want to shoot because he was concerned that the shot would spook the horses. At that point, a member of the hunt department showed up and with all of this commotion, the dogs ran back into the woods. The guy from the hunt department tried to chase them down. He caught up with them in the woods, but his gun didn't work and they started attacking him so that he had to use the butt of his gun to fend them off while he ran back to the truck to get another rifle. Apparently he was able to shoot one of the dogs. There were 6, now there are 5. Part pitbull.

We have been warned NOT to take a walk, not to travel alone. Everyone I know who likes to walk their dogs has been "packing heat," carrying pistols and shotguns and rifles. We are well armed here.

I don't know which alarms me more -- the fact that there are a pack of wild dogs living in the woods next door to my house or that all of my neighbors walk around heavily armed, and think nothing of it! I'm still getting used to this culture...slowly...

The Darien Boat Club

We had the moving company come today to give my parents an estimate on what it would cost to move their things to Chicago.

I know that I should be feeling really emotional about the breaking up of our home, about losing a footprint in coastal Connecticut, which has always been home to me, about the passage of a chapter in my life. But, right now, I don't.
I don't have time. There is too much to do.

This week we have accomplished a lot. We got my dad back on his feet and into some personal training, or physical therapy, where he can work on building strength and gaining more flexibility. That was Tuesday.

Wednesday I measured out the size of the rooms in their new home and put string markings on the floor so that mom, dad and I could create furniture arrangements for the rooms in my parent's new home. I moved a lot of furniture. It was so much fun to see what pieces they can take with them and how it will look. We even took pictures. It just felt good to make decisions about what pieces to take and which ones to leave behind.

Thursday we had an Estate Sale Specialist come to the house, someone who has a great reputation in the area. I walked her through the house, showing her furniture, art and collectibles. She is interested in having a sale to help us dispose of our things. Boy, that would be great if she could.

Friday we needed to get out of the house because the buyers needed to bring in a building inspector into the house. So, we all went down to the local beach.

And, that's when it hit me. It happened as I walked from the car to the Boat Club. I stood on the pavement, looking at the boat slips below, remembering how much fun it was to have a boat when I was little, how much I enjoyed having a boat and how disappointed I was when my father decided to sell ours and not replace it. All of the joys and disappointments and hopes and celebrations and family moments were captured in that moment at the Boat Club. My childhood. Our family. My relationship to my family. Growing up in Darien, with all that that meant. We were closing a chapter -- the best of times, the worst of times, mostly good times. My eyes welled up and I walked on. Keep moving forward, I told myself, and don't look back.

Blog Review

Last week, a girlfriend sent me an email, which said:

“So, I took a look at your website! I love the blog entries - if someone didn't know you, they might find it all self-indulgent, but I find it quite interesting, amusing, thought-provoking!”

Over the weekend, I went to an oyster roast where I saw a neighbor who told me: “I have been reading your blog. I get to know you much better than I do by talking to you at dinner parties.”

Just today, I was talking to another friend in our community who said to me:

“Why do you write your blog? It’s very interesting. I know more about you than I do my best friend.”

So, why do I write this blog? There are many reasons…

This life transition is a HUGE one for me – from single to married, North to South, urban to rural, everything is different. As I may have written before, when I came down to the Lowcountry to be with my husband, I decided to be happy. Yep, I just decided to be happy. I believe that you can choose to focus on the good in your life, from the way the sunlight shines through the trees to the kindness of new friends to the excitement of learning about a new place and its experiences. Or, you can decide to be unhappy and focus on all the things from your old experience you are lacking in your new one (like Starbucks’ lattes and the home delivery of the New York Times).

Having said that, I knew that despite this decision to be happy, it would be challenging sometimes because the life shift is so big, and it is occurring on so many levels – mental, emotional, spiritual and professional.

I wanted to chronicle that shift, to capture the newness of it all, to shine a Yankee light on the Southern ways in order to give a fresh perspective to people of the Lowcountry who are so familiar with this way of life down here that they might not see certain things, in the same way that tourists used to give me fresh eyes to see New York, and to give Yankees a view into the Southern lifestyle which, in their eyes, is like the movie Deliverance. I wanted to describe the hilarity of my new life -- , especially when you compare that life to my life in the city. (BTW, my husband is especially hilarious. More on this in another email…I’ll be showcasing his hilarity!)

Finally, I know I’ll learn and grow and transform in the process and I would like to share that process with my readers. I have accepted that my new life will probably be a ride, and that there will be scary as well as exhilarating moments. Come and join this ride with me. It will take us places, I know.

Clearing Clutter Stuff

Last weekend, my husband went to North Carolina to attend a business meeting and to ski. Our house is about a 6 hour drive.

I had a decision to make. To join my husband or to stay here in South Carolina where I could continue my nesting process -- unpacking boxes from my apartment in New York, rearranging furniture in the house and creating that sense of home for us. (Here's my office, where I've been sorting through boxes and papers! Can't believe I'm showing you this!) It seems like just as I'm about to get into a rhythm here in the Lowcountry I launch off somewhere else-- to New York or elsewhere. This feels disruptive to my settling in and establishing rhythms.

As a newlywed, I don't like being away from my husband. After all, it took me a half a lifetime to find him. And, we have so much fun together -- on an hourly basis -- that I miss the laughter and lightness when he's not here. I also LOVE to snowski, and I knew the weather reports were for about a foot of snow in the North Carolina mountains. It's so romantic to be in our NC house with the fireplace blazing, the snow falling, and sitting in the overstuffed leather chairs that face the floor to ceiling windows that look out over the valley and the mountains in the distance. Ahhhhh....

That house has a special resonance for me because it was in that house that Landon and I really started falling in love as it was a rendez-vous place during our courtship, a convenient location between New York and South Carolina. But, at some level, I knew that it just felt right to stay in our South Carolina house so that I could create order in our home, especially in my office. I still had 7 boxes of papers that I brought from New York that had to be sorted and filed or tossed so that I can really start building my business from a clean platform. There was a symmetry to our decision. My husband got to spend time going through 'stuff" and recreating space in the mountains as I went through my "stuff" in the Lowcountry.

Going through stuff connects you to memories of the past -- what you did, what you didn't do, the decisions you made. the things that were important to you. I went through pictures, laughed when I saw the big hair and shoulder pads of the 80's and smiled when I went through all of the family shots. I kept a lot of those. Going through stuff inspires you to consider the things you saved, to think of the reasons behind why you held onto something, and sometimes to realize that you have outgrown the need to save something that used to be precious but now is not.

Going through stuff helps you to get perspective on life's journey. It gives you a snapshot of your past -- in the context of the present. It gives you a sense of how you have grown and changed and evolved and transformed.

Going through papers led to mixed emotions. There were the half-written articles, the unfinished books, the coaching program I had planned to do but didn't. Lot's of unfinished work. Why, I wondered? I was filled with a sense of regret that I didn't bring more things to completion, but then was reminded by how much I did accomplish -- the consulting project with the British Film Association, the long-term coaching of a CEO, my first telesummit event. I finished all of those projects. And, then I realized that the only unfinished projects that I had were the ones where I was exercising my creativity, sharing my insights and theories about the workplace. Was I afraid to put them out in public for the world to see? I'm looking forward to bringing them into being now. Because now is the time.

That clearing process was cathartic. It brought me in touch with where I have invested my energy in the last 10 years, where I diverted energy, and where I would like to place my energy going forward. Now I can make a decision to bring some of these creative projects forward, if I want to and if it seems right. I'll finish some of those articles and maybe complete a book or two.

Making decisions about what to keep and what to toss is empowering because you get to choose what is important, what to clear away and that process of conscious elimination brings clarity. You get to decide what is important in your life. You get to decide what you need to move you forward. You get to decide what to strip away that is holding you back. You get to streamline and bring into focus all of those things that will impel you forward. You get to decide.

And, that is empowering.

Cooking and Me

I’m becoming a good Southern girl. I am starting to cook…

What’s happening to me? When I lived in New York, sometimes, very, very rarely, I would cook for myself. If I did cook, it would be very simple. I would buy a cut of fish from the fish market – either tuna or swordfish (not very politically correct of me, I know) and would walk a couple of blocks to my local Korean deli on the corner, Annie’s, where I would usually buy 10 sugar snap peas. The number was not lost on the cashier. “You mus’ live alone,” she would say, “you only hav’ 10 peas. Ha ha.” I didn’t think it was funny.

It reminded me of the last time I bought German sausages at the famous Schaller and Weber on 86th and Second. I asked for one sausage. The man behind the counter started psycho-analyzing me, in front of his other customers, and said: “You must live alone. What’s the matter with you? You are an attractive woman. Why aren’t you married… you must hate men…” And, so on and so on and so on…” At least I don’t have to face that anymore!

When I lived in New York, dinner consisted of dry cereal, dining out, take out or delivery. Most of the time, if I was at home, I would call and have my food delivered right to my door. I wouldn’t even go and pick it up. Why should I? It was free! Pizza from Mia Pizza, salmon curry from Sala Thai, jumbo shrimp from Chef Ho’s, steamed chicken and mixed vegetables from First Wok, fish from La Mia, or tabbouleh, baba ganoush, and hummus from the Falafel House. One phone call from the couch and it would arrive, HOT, 20 minutes later, rain or shine. Now, that was great!

In New York, no one cooks. None of my friends did. Why cook when you are only cooking for yourself and you can get all sorts of delicious, ethnically diverse food. You know, now that I think about it, I lived in my two bedroom, pre-war New York apartment for 14 years and…I never used the oven. Never. I did boil water for making rice and vegetables on the stove top burners, and occasionally I would use the broiler for making my fish, but I never used the oven itself. Never.

Fast forward to today…when I first got to the Low Country, my husband had a housekeeper in the house who cooked. It’s a long story, which I will tell sometime, but she’s gone, which means I’m the one doing the cooking. It’s hilarious! Stay tuned…

Same Day, New Thoughts

Mary has left for the day. So, have Miss Flo and Miss Jackie. My husband is at lunch with his partners. I am alone in the house. Would I be lonely?, I wondered.

I decided to take advantage of the incredible weather and beauty of the day -- and have lunch outside. As I got about half-way through my lunch -- a salad with venison meatloaf, our dog Blaze came to get some pats and loving. I finished my lunch, took the plate inside and sat with Blaze on the steps.

Blaze is an enormous dog, half-Burmese mountain dog, half-Rottweiler, and scares our handymen half to death. He has a ferocious bark, but he's the most loving dog I have ever known. So, there we were, sitting on the back steps in the Carolina sun, him leaning against me, and me petting him and that's when I realized...

....everything about my new life is love. I feel it everywhere. I am just embraced by love. I feel love from my husband, from the ladies who work in the house, from Mary, Landon's assistant, from the people here at Brays, from the gentle marsh air, from the fragrant flowers -- everything speaks to me of love. And, suddenly I realize, I am happy.

I just need to establish new rhythms in my life to take care of the needs I have, that's all. When I was in New York, I developed a pattern of going out and doing things...because I was alone and I could. But, I longed for a life-partner, a husband, a soul mate, with whom I could share and enjoy life. Now I have that so it's silly to think that the same strategies that I employed as a single person would work for me know, being married.

I need to be in touch with bright, fun, thoughtful, spiritual women. So, I need to find a way to do that regularly.
I need to find ways to learn new things. I need to develop a kind of discipline to learn about the history surrounding my life here, to visit plantations, to understand the new cultures, like Gullah and Geechee African based cultures.
I love music -- and that's why Landon and I go out to hear NYC sponsored Chamber Music. And, we need to find another Blues Club now that the Brewery has closed.
I love to dance -- and I have looked into the schedules of the Savannah Swing Group and the Charleston Swing.
I love to ice skate -- and when Richie and I figure out what happened to my figure skates (lost in the mail?) I will make regular time to skate again.
I want to learn how to horseback ride. So, I just need to make time to take lessons.
I would like to get to know more folks here at Brays. So, I will make time to visit with them.
I have always dreamed of having a power boat and being able to water ski and take the boat to islands. I can do that here!

There are so many possibilities -- and if I focus on all of the options available to me, I am thrilled and excited. If I focus on what I don't have, I am miserable and sad.

My focus for the next month will be to get the house in order, to get my office in order and to create a foundation so that I can start living my life.

What do you think?

The Pendulum: Feeling Joy, Feeling Grief and Feelings in Between

Writing this blog is really very cathartic. I love being able to journal my feelings online. Hope this doesn't seem too self-indulgent to you.

I'm having a difficult time this week.

On the one hand, I feel like the most blessed individual on earth. Yesterday, it was 75 degrees, spring was in the air, and I was driving down Route 17, windows down, radio blaring and I was singing (and at one point, also driving 72 mph!) I felt the hormones kick in, like they used to in high school, and I felt young again. Spring is here! You can smell it in the air and see it in the light -- it's like someone turned on a spotlight in the sky -- and I feel things stirring in the earth. The birds are singing earlier in the morning, and I hear different songs. The snowbirds must be beginning to return north.

On the other hand, I really, really, really miss New York. And, here's the strange part. I miss it, but don't feel the need to fly up there. I was supposed to fly up to NYC next week, when my husband will be up there, but don't feel compelled to travel as I was just there. How can I really miss New York and yet not feel the desire be there? It doesn't make sense.

I guess I miss my old life. And, Landon, if you are reading this, it doesn't mean that I don't love you or that I want my old life back. I love you and feel happy beyond belief to be with you. But, I do miss my life.

I miss being able to go out to Brighton Beach on the W train if I felt the need to go out of Manhattan. I miss being able to hop a train and go out to Astoria Queens so that I can sit at Lefkos Bakery and eat my favorite baklava. I miss being able to work inside all day and then sit in a Starbucks and watch the world go by. I miss being able to walk down the street to the 92nd Street Y and hear Bill Clinton speak or Paul Krugman or David McCullough or whoever. I miss being able to go out to dance for hours to a swing band. I miss going to Carnegie Hall on a whim. I miss being able to go to a conference, meeting someone and following up and having coffee with them at a later date. I miss not knowing what might be lying right around the corner. I miss all the boroughs I didn't get to explore. I miss the creativity, the energy, the people of New York. I miss my life.

I guess this is the grieving process -- grieving for what was lost and left behind. What is so strange to me is that I willingly left this behind to be with Landon, I am happy in my new life, it has lots of new things to discover, new people to meet, new activities to learn.

At this point, I don't really know what to do. I feel the need to dig in and to nest into my new life. There are still rooms that need painting (more on that saga in another post), pictures that need hanging, boxes that still need to be unpacked. And, my office is a disaster. I really need to create a sense of order there...that's why I'm staying home while Landon will be in New York. I want to invest my energy here. Is all of this activity a diversion? It doesn't feel that way. It just feels like I need to make a commitment to my new life, which is here. I guess I am still in transition -- leaving the old and embracing the new.

I knew when I came down here that it would be different. And, I knew that if I tried to compare my new life with my old, I would be unhappy because they aren't comparative -- they are too different. So, I made the decision that I was going to be happy, and I am. But letting go is hard to do.

Any suggestions? Please comment. I'm listening...Thanks.

I'm Baaaaaaack......

OK, I'm back...back to the rhythms of my life.

Yesterday Landon and I took a long, 5 - 6 mile walk in the sunshine on one of those million dollar Carolina days. We saw lots of birds that are migrating -- great whites and little whites and blue herons and and egrets and ibis and American coots ("medium-sized, chicken-like swimming bird" says Whatbird.com) and hooded mergansers. It was the kind of day where it seemed like a spotlight had been turned on...everything is brighter and I could smell spring in the air. Now, it seems a little strange to smell spring so early, after all, it is early February, but after the snow and ice of the North, I welcomed it. It was a truly glorious day!

I played with Xena, throwing her red ball over and over and over, and rubbed Blaze's belly while he breathed deeply and I felt the warm sun's rays on my face. More glorious...

And, then Landon and I drove the pickup truck to the mailroom to get the mail, stopped by a dike to cast some lines into the water, hoping that we could snag a flounder or redfish, but the tide was down and the wind against us, and finally on to Comet the Wonder Horse to feed him some carrots. He was filthy, having rolled in the dirt. Looks like he's none the worse for the wear, living in the pasture, rather than the stables.

It was a wonderful day, back in the Lowcountry. I didn't miss the city one bit!

"Either / Or" versus "And"

I'm back in my home with my husband -- the dogs were happy to see me, particularly Blaze who practically bowled me over when he saw me get out of the car. Xena is much better behaved.

And, I was happy to see Landon. It seems like forever that we were together, even though it was only a week.

Sitting in our den, in front of the fire this morning, I'm thinking about yesterday's post and how part of me felt torn about leaving New York and coming home.

Maybe it doesn't have to be an either / or. Maybe my life can include "and." I live in South Carolina AND New York. Instead of choosing, maybe I can choose to have both. I'll never give up my love affair with New York, it's just ingrained in me. But, accepting that, I can also choose to embrace my new life and be open to different experiences. That sure feels better than having to choose one over the other. I feel much better...

It's the transitions that are difficult. When I first got to NYC, I felt like a tourist. I saw the grafetti, looked at people when I passed them, I might even have mumbled a "hi", much to the consternation of those around me. I hope they thought I was just muttering. Up there, that's more acceptable than being friendly.

Then I got back to the South and heard a "Thank you Ma'am" and "Have a good day", both of which sounded really strange to these ears which had been in Northern territory for a week.

So, I am accepting that I can have both worlds, both places which I love. Now I'll work on easing the transition between them so that it doesn't feel like I'm leaving the earth's atmosphere and re-entering, which is how it feels to me at the moment.

Do you have any suggestions for me? Anything that might make the transitions easier? I'm all ears...please feel free to comment. I love listening to my readers.

In A New York State of Mind

I’ve just arrived at LaGuardia Airport for my flight to Charleston, and I feel like I’m going home, home because home is where the heart is and my heart is always with Landon. I long to feel the rhythm of my new life in the South, a rhythm that is so closely tied to the patterns of the land.

And yet, and yet…the lure of the city beckons. I can’t get over my love affair with New York. I can remember when I was a kid, standing in front of the clock in Grand Central, waiting for my dad, and telling myself then that I knew I wanted to live in New York. And, live there I did. For 23 years.

New York City is one of the most ethnically diverse places in the world, with Brooklyn boasting more than 160 ethnicities and Jackson Heights even more. I love the city’s harmonious diversity.

When sitting on the subway, I marvel at the faces I see across from me – from Mexico, Gambia, Serbia, Korea, Croatia, China, Vietnam, Poland, along with the Irish-Americans, Italian-Americans, Jewish, Catholic and WASPs – all mingling together, a smorgasbord of nationalities, religions, languages and dialects in one place. It’s fantastic.

Why do they come? Why are people attracted to New York? For the vibrancy, the energy, the creativity, the possibility, the opportunities. The dream. “If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere,” sings Frankie and we all try to make it here. Some do and some don’t, but most of us try. Us. Hmmmm. I still see myself as part of it. The aspirational motivation that defines New York.

New York is a walking city. I used to walk everywhere to get around – to the subway, to the park, to work, from work, to the store, to restaurants, to my friends’ places, to parties, to museums, to ice skating, to coffee shops, to bookstores. It’s all about walking. Because you never know what you’ll see or what you’ll stumble upon.

The singular thing that most tourists miss about the city is that New York is a city of neighborhoods. I have lived in several different ones. When I first came to the city, I lived in the West Village which was local and full of artisans and merchants and less trendy than it is now; up to Spanish Harlem where our local Cuban wine merchant closed at 6 pm on Fridays so that we could try his new bottles; to all over the Upper West Side, from 73rd to 89th and always between Central Park West and Broadway. At one point, I was moving every nine months.

In my last West Side apartment, I lived with my college roommate, Karen. We had an incredible place – with two bedrooms, two baths, a fireplace and most of all, an outside garden which Karen took care to plant because even though she was an investment banker, she had studied to be a landscape architect. I was subletting from her roommate who had just gotten married. Unfortunately, she decided that she wanted to have a toe-hold in the city and that I would have to move. And, that’s when it happened. I had to move to the East Side.

There is a HUGE rivalry between the Upper West Side of Manhattan and the Upper East Side, a divide which few overcome. There is a kind of unwritten understanding that if you live on the West Side, you would never consider living on the East Side (even though it’s just across the park). Moving from one “Side” to the other is like switching your loyalty from the NY Yankees to the Boston Red Sox. It just isn’t done.

Initially, I was devastated. But, eventually, I learned to like the East Side, and even decided that I preferred to live there. There were more dry cleaners, supermarkets…it was just easier to live day-to-day. Once I got there, I never left. Until now.

So, now I’m living in the South. It’s strange because the Lowcountry, while gorgeous and inviting, doesn’t feel like home. It feels like a pretty place where I live, and the people are kind, but it lacks the kind of deep resonance with my soul. Or, who knows? I’m writing this on the plane as it takes me from my city to the country. Perhaps, as Billy Joel writes, I’m just in “a New York state of mind.”

To NYC

I'm sitting on a plane going from Charleston SC to NYC. Of course, I've made this trip many times before during my courting stage with Landon, during the planning of our wedding and after our wedding, back and forth, forth and back, from my old life to my new one and back. This time it's different. for the first time, I feel like I'm leaving my "life" to visit a moment in time that has passed.

My friends are a constant, a bridge between the two worlds. I can't wait to see Sarah, Dwight, Susan, Gina, Shanahan (you know a good friend when you are on a last name basis) and Evie and Lisa and Jon. I'm trying to make time to see each of them.

Sarah wants me to go out late with her tonight to hear her favorite band, the Loan Sharks, who are playing in the Bronx at 11pm. Now, I love to dance, but this just doesn't sound fun any more. Well, I take that back. It sounds really fun, but also really late and complicated and...cold for this time of year.

Now I like to get up early in the morning, before 6, so that I can work and pray and listen to my inner wisdom and get grounded before the day come crashing in around me, when the phone starts ringing and the activity starts. I like to get up early enough so that I can watch the sun rise over the marsh and write creative thoughts and feel the peace of the day.

My world has shifted, and I have shifted with it.

Inner and Outer Worlds

As I reflect on my life, I realize that many of my postings are about the external changes in my world – moving from “The City” the country, single to partner, new activities, new pastimes, new friends. The most significant changes are actually the ones happening in my inner world – how I am adapting to my new life – the emotional challenge of leaving what is familiar, what is comfortable for something totally new, the challenge of letting go.

When I made a decision to leave my old life in New York City to embrace my new life in the Lowcountry, I knew one thing. I knew that I needed to move forward and create a new life. I knew that if I tried to hold on to the old life while moving into the new, the transition would be slow and difficult. I also knew that if I compared my new life to my old one I would be unhappy because there are a lot of things I would no longer have. Of course, there are many new and exciting things I'm experiencing in my new one.

I also knew that I could simply decide to be happy. I could choose to be happy and to focus on all the good things I have in my new life. Or, I could decide to be miserable and focus on all the things I no longer have in my life. (like a coffee shop around the corner!) I choose to appreciate the good at hand, and guess what? It's working...I am happy...blissfully happy.

Happy New Year !

It's the first day of 2009.

And, as I sit on the sofa, watching the Nebraska and Clemson game while my husband is sitting in a deer stand on the last night of this year's deer season, Xena and Blaze, our dogs, lying at my feet and a quail soup experiment on the stove, I realize something...

I am just surrounded by love here. I have never felt so loved. And, I'm happy.

This afternoon, I opened the French doors and went to sit on the porch, right outside our den where my husband was talking to his real estate agent in North Carolina and his Cuban buddy in Miami. It was sunny and calm -- Blaze, our pound puppy, half Rottweiler, half Burmese Mountain dog, saddled up to me, all 110 lbs of him ,and put his head on my leg like a little lap dog. I felt the warmth of the sun on my face, the rhythm of Blaze's breath on my knee, and listened to my husband's laugh from inside, and that's when it hit me. I am completely, supremely, totally happy. I am content.

Last night, I had another realization...

Landon and I went to our next door neighbor's New Year's Eve party -- I was charged with bringing a plate of hors d'oeuvres. You should have seen me walking down our dirt driveway, with no lights on, alone, under a tapestry of stars, holding a tray full of food that I prepared, wondering how I could have traveled so far from New York and my life of singledom and just incredulous at my new married life.

It was a very enjoyable evening, giving me the opportunity to have one-on-one conversations with some people here where I live on Brays Island Plantation. I'm am still the "new kid", the second wife of Landon K. Thorne, and lots of people either don't know me or don't know what to make of me. Many people who live here are fully retired, most are older than I, and some, I know, struggle with finding a way to relate to me. For some, I am the age of their children. But, for those who reach out to get to know me, we can find points of connection.

Any way, several people engaged me in conversation last night to find out, among other things, how I am adjusting to life in the Low Country, knowing that I spent 23 years in New York City and wondering how I'm dealing with this transition. I think people are genuinely concerned about my ability to adjust because the transition is so huge. So, they ask me about what activities I like to do. Some of the women like to ride horses, some, golf or tennis, others like to play bridge, and still others shoot sporting clays. And, that's when I realized...my happiness here has nothing to do with the activities I engage in. Sure, I have fun -- I ride bicycles, do yoga, swim, kayak off our backyard, ride horses, take walks, and I'm looking forward to shrimping, boating, and fishing. After all, being married to my husband is like being married to my favorite camp counselor. But, I realize that my happiness is not defined by what I do.

I'm happy because I feel so embraced and loved by everything around me. My husband loves me and shows me every day. He has created an loving environment -- everything that surrounds me speaks of love. Our dogs are so loving, Comet the wonder horse is affectionate. Members of our household, my husband's assistant, Mary, our handyman Harry, everyone provides care and support so that there is a feeling of serene harmony in our home. Even the landscape speaks to me of love. I see love everywhere -- in the soar of an eagle, in the color of a flower, in the gentle moistness of the sweet air, in the rhythm of the tides -- it's all around me. I am embraced in and by Love.

Becoming Mrs. Thorne

The Christmas cards have been pouring in. Every day our mailbox is chock-a-block full with well-wishers from around the globe.. Most of the cards are addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Landon Thorne or Colonel and Mrs. Landon Thorne.

And then it hits me…I am Mrs. Landon Thorne.

I still don’t really know what that means. I get a little thrill that runs down my spine when I realize that not only am I married, a state of being at which I still marvel, but that I am married to Landon Ketchum Thorne, the man of my dreams. That I am Mrs. Thorne, that we are a couple and the Christmas cards that are coming in, addressed to Mr. and Mrs., or Colonel and Mrs. are an acknowledgement of that fact.

Pinch me…

I live in a Red State

It's two days after the election and I realize...I live in a red state.

Right now, I really miss being in New York. I can't believe that I missed the biggest election probably in my lifetime. The superintendent who cares for my former apartment building said that he could hear trumpets in Harlem. My friend Gina was in Times Square during Obama's speech and said that everyone was celebrating -- strangers hugging, cab drivers who pulled over on the side of the street with their doors open so that passersby could hear. Now, that's the America I want to live in. I can't believe I missed it.

I miss the vibe of the city.
I miss the energy of the city.
I miss the passionate engagement of the people in the city.

Am I really going to be able to craft a life in South Carolina? I know that I can, but it's going to take some work. My life is all about affecting change, about getting passionately engaged in what I believe, about speaking out. It was easy for me to do that in New York because I was right in the middle of things -- I'm going to have to work harder down here. Stay tuned...