I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving: I hope you had delicious food, delightful company, lots of laughter, and ended up with both a full belly and a full heart!
I got to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, then had to get to work in the kitchen.
The day was a beautiful blur, but I couldn’t Let it pass by without letting you know that I’m so very thankful for each and every one of you!
XO Donna
Do you have a pivotal point in your history that set you on a course for the rest of your life? I do.
It was at a Thanksgiving dinner in 1963. I was with my family at my Aunt’s house. There were my parents and the four of us girls. There were five in my Aunt and Uncle’s family, and there was another couple whom I don’t remember.
Thirteen people all crammed into the living/dining room of a modern split-level ranch home. The kind of home where the sofa, chair seats, and lamps had plastic slipcovers. A football game was on in the living room. The women were working in the kitchen. Since I was only 12, I wasn’t considered one of the adults yet, so I was not allowed in the kitchen. I was told instead to watch the babies….which really meant to keep them from falling down the stairs.
I’d been at it for a while, when I heard my youngest cousin crying. I didn’t remember losing track of him, and hurried to find him. He had crawled into the living room and as I entered to fetch him, I saw that he was sitting right at the foot of my Uncle’s lounger and disturbing the football game with his bawling.
My uncle hadn’t seen me yet, and from his throne, with his feet up and a cold beer in his hand, he looked over the arm of his lounger, down at the distraught infant, and bellowed to my harried aunt, “Gloria! Come get this goddamned kid!”
I knew she was busy trying to get dinner on the table, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just reach down and pick the baby up.
My aunt dropped everything, hustled into the living room, and apologizing profusely, she snatched the baby up and took him down the hall to change his soggy diaper.
In that instant I understood everything about their lives and their relationship. Standing there frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief, I decided conclusively, “I will never live like this!”
And “this” encompassed a lot. It included not having more than one child. Living in the suburbs. Being in servitude to someone else. Never having to deal with an angry, beer-guzzling man. Or ever having a lounge chair.
So while everyone else is celebrating Thanksgiving as the traditional blessing of the harvest, I’m celebrating the blessing of that wake-up call so many years ago. I’ve stayed true to all of those decisions, and I am grateful for the way my life turned out. I’m especially grateful for all of the family, friends, and friends-who-have-become-family, that I’ve been blessed with.
May you all have a delightful Thanksgiving with your loved ones!
XO Donna
For years I have studied the laws of attraction. But, for the last few months I have been working daily to clarify what I want in my life now, how I want to live, and what it would feel like. I spend time each day imagining it.
I also seek inspiration each morning, these days by watching an Abraham-Hicks video on YouTube. If you want to know about the laws of attraction, look no further.
It turns out that it’s this simple:
CLARITY & IMAGINATION.
Clarity = knowing exactly what you want. Imagination = picturing yourself already having it. Don’t worry about the how, focus only on the having.
“But, how do I know exactly what I want?” Great question.
The short answer: I’ll bet you know exactly what you don’t want, and that’s a great place to start!
Since I was clear about what I didn’t want any more, I made a list of it. Using that, I made another list of what I would rather have instead.
Then I narrowed that down to a couple of “biggies” that were very specific.
I imagine what I want every morning and evening, and think about how I will feel when I have these in my life. (NOTE: it’s not about the thing per se – the car, the house, the corner office, the bags of cash. . . it’s about how we will feel.)
Imagine what you want, and how you will feel when you have it, for a few minutes each day – with your coffee in the morning, or before bed at night. When you say your prayers, or before you meditate. When you look out at nature’s beauty, or when you’re sitting still, stuck in traffic.
You can imagine feeling healthy and vibrant. Imagine a joyful, fun-filled, family life. Or extended family, or band of friends that act as family. Imagine feeling prosperous and secure. Imagine loving your job. How about the feeling you’ll have after accomplishing something you’ve worked hard for?
Imagine that, and see what begins to happen.
Now, with all of that said and done, I’m imagining myself drinking a Dirty Martini with blue-cheese stuffed olives. My sister Terry’s favorite!
XO Donna
“Just beat it, beat it, no one wants to be defeated.” That’s what was running through my head as I stood, wooden spoon in hand. The directions said that the four packs of cream cheese and the sugar needed to be beaten until “light and smooth.”
Having never made a cheesecake with a wooden spoon before, I’m daunted by the task. Afraid I’m not up to it. But if everyone for the last 1,723 years (before electric mixers) has done this by hand, then so can I!
I think…
My beloved cheesescake is believed to have originated in Ancient Greece, the first recipes and ingredients were recorded as early as 230 A.D. It was introduced to Great Britain and Western Europe around 1,000 A.D. by the conquering Romans. Then the recipe spread throughout England, Scandinavia, and Northwestern Europe.
A 1545 cookbook which included accounts of domestic life and cookery during Tudor days has a recipe for a “tarte of chese.” About that same time, Neufchâtel cheese was “officially born” in the ledgers of the Saint-Amen Abbey of Rouen, in Neufchâtel-en-Bray, France.
So I’m humming “beat it” as I attack the two pounds of Neufchâtel in the bowl. My sister called and we chatted on speaker-phone as I kept stirring. “I’m so sorry you have to make your own birthday cake.” “Cheesecake,” I corrected her, and then told her it wasn’t for me. “You’re doing all of that work for someone else???” Well, now that she put it that way….
It’s for our aesthetician at work, she has been reminding me of how much she’d love one of my cheesecakes for her birthday. She said she’d share, so everyone gets to have some. There are six of us Scorpios with birthdays within 9 days of each other!
And this NY-style cheesecake is just like a Scorpio – rich, complex, sexy, and absolutely wonderful! And I should know, I’ve enjoyed the company of many in my life…both Scorpios and cheesecakes.
Happy Birthday Dear Scorpios!
XO Donna
SexyPast60 