The towel was placed with great precision. Angled absolutely appropriately to be facing the exact rays of the sun. A nice even tan with no shadowing high on the list of necessities.
The hair was exquisitely sculpted. The perfect flip, with the perfect bangs, adorned with the perfect white soft headband. The sunglasses were the latest style. The frames you would probably recognize walking down Rodeo Dr. in California.
The bathing suite was two-piece. Not a bikini. That would not have been acceptable for that time period. No, it was two piece. Brown dotted swiss with a white ruffle around the hips, and also white ruffles over both shoulders. My big sister, 16-years-old, lounged on the beach with one leg extended, the other curved to a slight angle. Not a speck of sand on her. I always wondered how she made it to the chosen spot on the beach, spread out her towel, and got positioned without a speck of sand on her. She's pretty anyway, and this day she looked beautiful and adorable. She could have been a vision in one of the famous beach movies ... like "Beach Blanket Bingo."
Now, picture the little sister. Thirteen years old, hair slung back in a pony tail. Trudging down to the beach with a beach bag, towel, and one of her favorite possessions ... the family poodle, Fi Fi. This would be the first time Fi Fi had been on a vacation with the family. It took some convincing the parents to agree to let the dog travel with us. But in reality, I don't think they looked forward to leaving her behind either. Fi Fi was quite energetic. If there was a wrong way to do something, she would seek it out and go for it with great enthusiasm. She shredded phone books one day, while home alone, into such small pieces that it would have put an electric shredder to shame. Standing almost an inch deep in her paper creation, with pieces of paper hanging off her ears and mouth, made her look quite guilty. So cute, all you could do was laugh.
The little sister and Fi Fi continued on to the beach. Found a spot right next to the big sister, and flopped down for an afternoon of fun and sun. The little sister, anxious to show Fi Fi all about the ocean and beach said, "Look Fi Fi. See the sand." Taking one of her hands and the tips of her fingers, she made a small digging motion in the sand.
Cocking her head a bit, pricking her ears, wagging her tail, Fi Fi discovered the magic of the sand. Slowly at first, but then with great exuberance, the digging began. I think she could have made it to China if left to the task. The sand flew. It kicked to the sides some, but the biggest majority kicked to the back of her. And where do you think it all came to rest? You're right! All over the big sister, so strategically placed, looking so adorable. Oops!
At that point, my memory recalls, that it may have been time for a shower.
This is in response to a challenge by The Red Dress Club to write about sand.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Negatives Turned Into Positives
I have become quite adept at being able to ignore negative comments that get slung in my direction. I would wager that all of us have been exposed to this kind of emotional and verbal bullying at some point in our lives. You know. The comments that are designed to state a negative, designed to tell us something that we do is not right, not important, designed to hurt our feelings? Instead of being able to actually speak with us regarding a topic, some folks use backhanded comments to say hurtful things. Furthermore, sometimes words are not even needed. Have you ever been laughed at, supposedly slyly, amongst others in the room? Haven't you had someone just totally ignore your presence, make no comment about something you've made, or even acknowledge something you have accomplished?
I remember once sharing the excitement and news of a promotion. The response I received was, "Well don't be too excited. Most of the time they're only looking for someone to dump on." Did I remember? Of course, I did. This particular comment was 21 years ago. I still remember the exact intersection where we were sitting, where we were going, and who was in the car. I still remember it word for word. Other times I have shared what is going on in my life, and I have tried to engage conversation regarding an upcoming fun event. The response ... total silence! I've often wanted to say, "Oh my goodness, have you gone mute?"
I could cite so many of these happenings. However what purpose would it serve? Often, once I leave the environment, I am absolutely worn out by trying to diffuse the comments that come at me like a laser gun. Zing, gotcha again!! But since this has happened to me repeatedly over the years, I have come to realize, and sincerely believe, that the goal is to be hurtful. So, I have decided and chosen not to allow that satisfaction. I refuse to let someone else steal my joy.
I have learned to take the comment, repeat it back, and then add a positive remark to the end of it. I am a firm believer that most, if not all, negatives can be turned into positives.
Do I still get injured by these types of comments? Of course, I do. I'm a human being, and a sensitive one at that. I have shed many tears and have grieved over many hurt feelings, when all I've ever wanted is to be included in a life. The lesson I have learned, though, is that I cannot control other folks comments ... but I can certainly control my emotional reaction to them. I think I do it fairly well, all things considered.
This is written in response to a challenge by The Red Dress Club. Our assignment was to write about something we do well. This is my attempt .. the word attempt being the keyword here.
I remember once sharing the excitement and news of a promotion. The response I received was, "Well don't be too excited. Most of the time they're only looking for someone to dump on." Did I remember? Of course, I did. This particular comment was 21 years ago. I still remember the exact intersection where we were sitting, where we were going, and who was in the car. I still remember it word for word. Other times I have shared what is going on in my life, and I have tried to engage conversation regarding an upcoming fun event. The response ... total silence! I've often wanted to say, "Oh my goodness, have you gone mute?"
I could cite so many of these happenings. However what purpose would it serve? Often, once I leave the environment, I am absolutely worn out by trying to diffuse the comments that come at me like a laser gun. Zing, gotcha again!! But since this has happened to me repeatedly over the years, I have come to realize, and sincerely believe, that the goal is to be hurtful. So, I have decided and chosen not to allow that satisfaction. I refuse to let someone else steal my joy.
I have learned to take the comment, repeat it back, and then add a positive remark to the end of it. I am a firm believer that most, if not all, negatives can be turned into positives.
Do I still get injured by these types of comments? Of course, I do. I'm a human being, and a sensitive one at that. I have shed many tears and have grieved over many hurt feelings, when all I've ever wanted is to be included in a life. The lesson I have learned, though, is that I cannot control other folks comments ... but I can certainly control my emotional reaction to them. I think I do it fairly well, all things considered.
This is written in response to a challenge by The Red Dress Club. Our assignment was to write about something we do well. This is my attempt .. the word attempt being the keyword here.
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