And She's Sitting Right Here

I went out to lunch yesterday with our "Development Department" from Outward Bound. This department has dwindled from 4 full time people and me working 20 hours a week to 2 full time people and me working 10 hours a week. It was a post-Christmas treat from our director.

While at lunch, we were talking about the economy and slim times at the school. We were not talking about me possibly leaving, but the other development person (we'll call her Kelly) began saying to the director, "Well, I know a fabulous fabulous grant writer who would be great for our school. Work ethic-- uh, out of this world! She's the type of person who lights up a whole room when she enters! She doesn't come cheap though, $80-$175 an hour..."

At first I thought, "Well shit. I'm sitting right here and your giving advice about giving my job away?" And then I figured that for $80-$175 an hour they could have many Katie Dunns there. Bing Dunn.

So if I want to keep this job, here are my points:

1. Shit, I can light up a room. Just give me some whiskey.
2. I know not to end a sentence with a preposition.
3. And, the bottom line: Times are slim and I am cheaper than that lady.

Dancing in the Streets

We were leaving an adult daycare home after a few hours of yardwork, reading, and hanging out with the elderly participants. They were having lunch, so we simply stopped in to say goodbye. As we shook hands around the room, several said, "What?! No singing for us? Sing us something." C'mon folks, not only do you get to see these cherubs for hours, but now you also want some sort of dinner theater?

So, I turned into my mom for a minute and said, "Sure! We can do it, right guys?!" If they were teenagers, they'd look at me in the same way that I used to look at my mom when she'd sign me up for something that I did not agree to do-- like, "You have GOT to be kidding." But they are 9 and 10 year olds who starting singing, "Dashing through the snow..." Soon we had a taasc dad on a lovely piano accompaniment and the party was on. One song (with different interpretations of lyrics) and we were out of there. Spontaneous celebration.

This week has been full of spontaneous celebrations. In addition to having some kitchen slow dances, I was delighted to be part of a dance party at Doc's house after dinner the other night. He said, "Don't you love this song?" and began to Ska-dance around the living room. I added some moves that only Tessa and random climbers have seen, and joy filled the room. Why not dance party of two?

It seems like a year to not wait for weddings or bar mitzvah's to boogie down.

don't call it a comeback. i've been here for years.

I was doing well on perpetual vacation--it was so wonderful to see my family and then Lyssie and Pete. New Jersey and Massachusetts were full of excellent food, relaxing with my folks, funny stories from the kids, great movie watching... Madison was full of life advice, cultural events, and slow dancing to "I Touch Myself" on the same night as when that poor WHOP driva was out in the cold.

Returning had the best that Asheville has to offer: its people, its running and biking terrain (although someone overworked her poor Christmas-cookie filled body), and its food. I relished in the 60 degree weather after being in the tundra. This photo is from a bike ride last weekend. Tee shirt.

Then, I worked a bit at the office today and had a mini freak-out tonight about my future plans. Consultants were ready to give advice and I am taking it. Show up, pay attention, don't be attached to the outcomes. Sleep, water, and lift with the legs. What is good now? Just do something.