X-Ray Cercie

This is not a new year post.

OK, maybe it is.

I'm trying to see through the year that just passed; not just reflect, not just project, but, see it. Was it really like what could be observed on the surface?

2018 was my X-Ray year. And as a result, I was granted {multiple} X-Ray Cercies.

Sometimes we live with a lot of pain. We deny ourselves relief. Maybe we are busy. Maybe we are not facing reality. Maybe to ameliorate our pain we have to work too hard, or change something we feel is too big to change. Maybe we don't love ourselves enough. 

What modern day American doesn't have back pain, right? It's the agony of our 21st century, sedentary lives. No one wants to hear you complain about it. Get up and move around. Do the physical therapy exercises they told you to do. Lose some weight. Take the meds.

I am the classic case. I have lived with back pain most of my life. Dance, and movement have always helped cover it up, or make it better, but I've been rather sedentary the past couple of years. 

I've had three big accidents in my life.

The first was in college. I was waitressing at Saskatoon (made $3,000 that summer). It was my lucky night, and I got the big table with ten people ordering lots of alcohol. I sauntered up to the bartender with the naive confidence of the 20-year-old that I was, and had him load up my tray. I was so full of pride in this massive order that would win me the tip of the night, that I insisted on delivering the tray and its array of exotic beverages back to the table myself. It was a large, round serving tray with hundreds of dollars of booze balancing on it. I lobbed it onto my shoulder, turned around to walk past the swinging kitchen door, and remarked to myself, "I'm golden." Whoops! I slipped on the floor. Someone hit the slow motion button and I {slowly?} landed on my right hip, feet flying up. The tray went up, the drinks crashed down. I'm fine. I'm fine. No problem. I can pay for the drinks out of my tip. It's all good. No, I'm fine.

The second accident was after college, in the year 2000. I was at Middelbury that summer immersing in the German language. It was a good day for a bike ride to get a break from studying, and while trying to slow down coming around a bend in an empty parking lot, I looked down at the bike gears, and decided that moment was the perfect one to review counting auf Deutsch as I read the gear numbers ... "eins, zwei, drei, SMACK." I hit a light post, flipped over my bike, braced my landing with my chin, and fractured my right arm. I spent the next hours in the hospital practicing how I was going to explain my face bandage and sling in the German language to my classmates. "Unfall?" Of course I did not cry. Not once. Not a tear ...

The final accident was in 2016, just before I moved to Atlanta. I was cruising along Devine Street in my hometown, heading back to work after my lunch break. I looked up, and all of the cars in front of me were at a dead stop. I slammed. I swerved. I missed. I looked up and into the rear view mirror. A Ford F-150 was about to careen into me. Bye-bye Infiniti Convertible. It was nice loving you with your all-mechanical, robotic, computer-operated hard top. I braced for the impact {figuratively and literally} with my left leg and hand on the steering wheel. I felt a sharp tinge go up my leg that still lingers.

I moved to Atlanta at the end of that year for a traveling job. In one year, I put 25,000 miles on my car driving around Georgia. 25,000 miles with the "death grip" on the steering wheel, lots of sudden breaking in-and-out of Atlanta traffic, and expletives {!!}. I was sitting in a car all the time, and wasn't taking care of myself. While I resisted, the leg and low back pain persisted {and not in the good Elizabeth Warren kind of way}. By the end of 2017, I reached a breaking point. 

And here's where the Cercies come in. 

My neighbor Debra Williams is a yogi. She has a studio RIGHT next door to my apartment. What excuse did I have not to at least try it? We started weekly sessions. I didn't even know there was such a thing as YIN yoga. Enter Patience in the form of Debra, one of my Cercies and Healers. For four months we worked and stretched and strengthened. I would tear up through some of the sessions; it hurt so much. Every time I walked in the door I had a new complaint about the pain. Debra carefully and ever-so-thoughtfully helped me through. One day, she got adamament: "Amy, you need to go see a doctor. You need to get an X-Ray." 

So I got a referral to see Dr. Schiff. On the day of the appointment, I navigated Atlanta perimeter traffic to his office. When I finally found it and a parking spot, I was 30 minutes late and exasperated. I figured this appointment was routine. He would do the X-Ray, tell me I had a disc issue, prescribe PT and an MRI, then give me a shot ... you know the drill. The clinician X-Rayed me from every possible angle. "Are we done, yet?" I thought. "It's like a photo shoot for spine models." I went back into the room with my robe on, and sat down. Dr. Schiff came in with his laptop. He nonchalantly pulled up beside me, flipped open his laptop to this image, and told me I have scoliosis with a 23.9% curvature, which is "significant." Then he told me he'd like to focus on healing what he suspects is a disc issue: "PT once a week for four weeks, then MRI..."

"Dr. Schiff, is this normal?" I ask. "No, Ms. Love. A straight spine is normal."

Was it one of the three accidents that caused this? Was it hereditary? Can it be fixed? Will I become crippled and unable to move freely?

Now I'm starting to remember the pain in college, the chiropractic visits, the heel lifts, the ibuprofen, crying in my room for hours. I'm realizing that the right side of my back seems like it sticks out more than the left. Wasn't that just because I was right-handed and that side is just stronger?

"I am deformed," I thought. I've had a crooked backbone for how long? I'm beyond imperfect. I'm debilitated. Off balance. Mal-aligned. Twisted. 

My friend Kat Reynolds introduced me to her friend Lola, who became my uh-MA-zing massage therapist. Lola got pregnant, which was a blessing for both of us, but mainly for me because she couldn't see me and therefore referred me to Scott Oglesbay, who is one of two Myoskeletal Massage Therapists in Georgia. Lola also referred me to Dr. John Wittle, a Kinesiologist (a what?). 

Debra, Lola, Scott, and John. These are my X-Ray Cercies. They are my healers.

In my X-Ray year, each of these Healers has given me the check mark: "You are going to be OK, Amy. We have your back." {This is where you observe how clever I am with words.}

Each of my X-Ray Cercies, aka Healers, in his or her own way, has opened my mind, and has taught me something new about my body and what it means for me to have a torqued spine. Each has shown me patience, and taught me to have some {yes, Mom, I am learning}. It has been over a year, and I am still healing the disc and trying to correct, or inhibit worsening of, my spine. Every single one of these magical humans has given me hope and helped me rid the pain.

The year of the X-Ray has show me that we don't know what is seeding within us, what is growing or morphing. We don't always listen to ourselves enough, and pay attention to what our bodies are telling us. The year of the X-Ray has shown me that we can't always tell what is happening on the inside. Maybe we don't even want to know.

"Frame that X-Ray, Amy!" said Lola. "It's beautiful!"

So ... what if we get the X-Ray?? Look at what life can deliver: an army of Healers, a panacea to the pain, a tribe {how many of you have Scoliosis - or anything causing you pain - and you've never told anyone, or thought it wasn't worthwhile to share?}. 

I will endeavor to heed the pain in 2019. I will try to see through things.

What's really going on? What clues do I have that something isn't right? How do I name the pain? What if I resist it for too long? Will I be able to endure it? Will I be forever twisted? Will there be Healers to get me straight?

Backwoods Barbie Cercie

I just booked tickets to Dolly Parton LIVE on June 4th in Duluth, Georgia. My little Backwoods Barbie Cercie to Self.

This will be my first Dolly Parton LIVE experience. Thank stars she released a new album and launched a tour at age 70, because I've missed every other opportunity up to now. 

As y'all know, my beloved dog's namesake is Dolly Parton. If I could have dinner with a famous person, I would pick Dolly Parton. I've often asked myself, "WWDD - What Would Dolly Do"? 

Here's why:

Better Get To Livin' 
If you know the Backwoods Barbie album, there's a song on it called "Better Get To Livin'." It's her Leadership Song. She's addressing the big question: "'Dolly, what's your secret?'" Well, she's not shy to tell you. It's how she lives her life.

- Be willing and forgiven' cause all healing has to start with you
- You better stop whining, pining
- Get your dreams in line
- And then just shine, design, refine

Well, I'm inspired! 

Why'd You Come in Here Lookin' Like That
Speaking of shining and refining, Dolly Parton mastered the "personal brand" long before social media determined this was the trend of the century. And she did it from the inside out, contrary to what might seem obvious. How? I think it's by being vulnerable: "I'm just a backwoods Barbie in a push-up bra and heels. I might look artificial, but where it counts I'm real. And I'm all dolled up and hoping' for a chance to prove my worth, And even backwoods Barbie's get their feelings hurt." 



They just use your mind and you never get the credit
I think it's safe to say that Dolly Parton works WAY more than "9 to 5". Her commitment to the dream, and her prolific creativity and output continue to blow me away. She's 70 and just released a TV show, a new album, performed live with Katie Perry at the CMAs (did y'all see her platform shoes?!) and is going on tour. This savvy business woman isn't taking anyone's crap, either. She's got a theme park and a resort hotel named after her. It's a rich WOMAN's game and Dolly is putting money in HER wallet. She's worth $500 million. 


Pure and Simple
Is the new album even out? I don't have it, yet. I did read that Dolly Parton just wanted to get back to "pure and simple." I think about how the music industry press go on about Adele and her revolutionary approach to songwriting, putting the simplest concept into lyrics that resonate with so many people. Well, Dolly's been doing that since Coat of Many Colors. Hello, Adele!! 

I Will Always Love You
This song was written for Dolly's business and creative partner Porter Wagoner. She was making the solo leap in her career, and this incredible piece of songwriting genius was about the business relationship that must come to an end. It made Dolly Parton the only artist to record a #1 album twice with the same song. She had appeal with pop music, too, as we all know. Whitney Houston picked it up. But here is where the story is so cool to me: Did you know that Elvis Presley wanted to cover the song, but Parton wouldn't sign over half her publishing rights to Presley, per the contract? This decision allowed her to keep the rights, and has made her millions $$$ in royalties from the song over the years. BOOM.  

I Believe in You
Dolly Parton never had children. She said she and Carl contemplated it, but God didn't want that for her. She said it has meant she can be "everybody's mamma" and there is more of her to go around. I love that. She writes and sings children's songs, and donates hundreds of thousands of books every year to children around the world through Imagination Library, which she started when I was graduating college.

See why I ask myself WWDD? 

Here's to shining and refining, y'all !

**Bonus Video from Dolly.

Pacific Northwest Cercie

SEATTLE

There is something about boutique hotels. They are quaint and have personality. I started my most recent vacation in one in Seattle. A Kimpton --  lavish and quirky. My friend Meg first introduced me to the Kimpton experience. We stayed in one in San Francisco back in 2011. Thank you, Meg.

Kimpton's are full of cercies. The one in Seattle was new and called the Palladian in Belltown. My longtime friend (of 29 years!) Laura and I stayed there for a night. The Palladian was decorated in what I would call 18th century with a modern twist. Lots of portraits of people like Neil Patrick Harris and Billy Idol, dressed in what looked to be French military uniforms or the like; plush couches with puckered, deep blue velvet fabric; a library with books stacked inside the fire place; a traditional, ticking clock in the bedroom, a flat screen TV propped on a painting easel; and eco-friendly amenities like a wall card reader that would turn off all electricity in the room as you left it.

Laura picked me up from SEA-TAC airport and we drove straight to the Palladian for girl's night out in the city. Luckily, we didn't have to go far to be out, as I'd booked a reservation at the new Kimpton restaurant called Shaker and Spear, adjacent to the hotel. We dropped our bags, walked downstairs, and ordered fun cocktails at the bar with names like "My name is Inigo Montoya" and "Inconceivable." Dinner was served with style. Wait staff very enthusiastic and knowledgeable. I think the muscles with duck sauce were my favorites, but the locally-sourced cheeses were amazing, too. Most of all, the company was delightful. Laura is a friend with a big family and a full-time job who lives many miles away. What a time cercie to get to be with her one-on-one!

The next morning we had breakfast at the Biscuit Bitch just blocks from the Palladian. We shared an order of the Canadian Bitch - biscuit with bacon and maple peanut butter ... yes, maple peanut butter. We then walked that off with a stroll a few blocks toward the waterfront to Pike's Market. Such abundance there. Bouquets of flowers, seafood, and vegetables.

At the market, we taste-tested some Chukar Cherries and put down a few dollars for the Cabernet Chocolate ones. You can order these online, people. You won't be sorry.

A stroll along the water to Olympic Park led us, accompanied by a light, cool breeze, to some sculpture cercies. My favorite was the ampersand-in-the-sky. It is an apt symbol of the entire vacation ... & & & then some.

Good thing we wore comfortable shoes, because we did some more walking up hills (with amazing views of the harbor), and finally made it to the Chihuly Garden and Glass exhibition. This was the most inspiring part of my vacation. Laura and I listened to the nifty audio tour available for download on mobile devices. It added even more color to the already-fabulous display in the halls. Many of the pieces were Chihuly's glass sculptures on black plexiglass, which accentuated the reflections of each installation. To me, Chihuly embodies the idea of surprise. He's the ultimate cercie-maker. I felt nothing but serendipitous joy throughout the exhibit. Garden and Glass ended with the glass house constructed especially for this exhibit, and a garden designed around the glass pieces, which featured spectacular views of the iconic Space Needle.

After such an adventure in color and light and design, one must eat, and eat well. So that we did. Thanks to my friend Susie's nifty "activity sheet" for Seattle, Laura and I made our way to The Green Leaf Vietnamese Restaurant. We went down some steps at a non descript entrance, not sure what we were getting into. It was a period bar/restaurant with authentic Vietnamese flair, and it was packed. We ordered the delicious spring rolls, and I tried the shrimp skewer and signature vermicelli dish. Two thumbs up.

Look what one can experience in fewer than 24 hours in Seattle! 

Laura and I made the gorgeous drive out of the city toward her home in Blaine, passing the Boeing complex, Washington University (40,000+ students go there!) and many an awe-inspiring view of Mt. Ranier, waterways, stadiums, bridges and the rural life of Washington. 

A freeway ride in Washington state is not dull. Freeway. Do we use that term down South? Laura and I were zooming down the road with all of our expensive and treasured memories floating around in our heads. I was thinking of the fortune of it all; perhaps of the excess. I kept wanting to cling to the feeling of freedom that a lavish vacation affords. But an Aimee Mann "ear worm" kept eking into my mind ...  "You got a lot of money, but you can't afford the Freeway."

BLAINE

Children are full of cercie love. I so enjoyed spending time with Laura and her family in Blaine. Children notice so many things adults long forget to appreciate. And they have such cleverness. I was high on the kid-banter the entire weekend with them.

We started Blaine with a sunset at Semiahmoo Resort. Breathtaking. I love how Laura's husband rushed to drive us there in time to see it. Such sweet memories of friends eager to share their world with me.

One spectacular (75 degree) day, we drove to Bellewood Acres, and had dinner on an apple orchard, with a view of Mt. Baker in the distance. We got the added bonus of showing up on the same day as the Canadian Car Club. Posh car cercie on the farm!

Laura, her daughter and I took a hike to Semiahmoo Marina one day. Just look at these views. Seal cercies, to boot!

VANCOUVER

Blaine, if you didn't know this, lies right between Seattle and Vancouver, Canada. So I got to drive Laura's car to the Canadian boarder from Blaine and flash my passport! You'd think this would be easy. A single woman with a car full of luggage from South Carolina is verrrry suspicious, apparently. "Let's start with where you're from." I made it through after a short dialogue with border patrol. One hour and I was in the fabulous, incredible, wonderful, international city of Vancouver.

I parked to check in at yet another boutique hotel, which I mistakenly booked for October. Alas, you pay for what you get, as they say, so I got a room in central, downtown Van at the only Canadian boutique called St. Regis. And I'm still paying for it. Everything smelled really nice there. At least I felt like I wasn't really in a hotel.

The darling concierge directed me to the sea wall, and recommended I have lunch at Cardero's on the marina. Patio seating, seafood chowder, a fish taco, and raspberry lemonade made for a very satisfying lunch.

Lunch was followed by many shopping cercies. As a genuine barre3 addict, I would have been remiss to not stop at Lululemon, which was founded in Vancouver. What a lot of very perky young people selling the hell out of some synthetic yoga wear! I've never been swarmed so enthusiastically while looking for a sports bra. But that was the sentiment of the city, really. Eager, friendly, service-oriented people from all around the world -- swarming.

The Vancouer Art Gallery was the real cercie, though. I stumbled upon it with no map (because I didn't use GPS roaming since I don't have an international phone plan). Vancouver native Geoffrey Farmer's exhibit "How Do I Fit this Ghost in My Mouth?" was particularly strange and magnificent. He crafted an incredible history of the world with tiny little cut-outs from what I think was a National Geographic book, with no apparent chronology to the way they were staged. A Queen Elizabeth, a small Moses and his tablets. It was stunning and intricate. But my favorite were the wood, fabric, and paper cuttings turned "puppets" he made for "The Surgeon and the Photographer" aspect of the exhibit. Hundreds of these puppets on stands in a large white room. I navigated around them, inspecting all angles of each puppet. They were clever. Farmer has been recognized internationally, at Kassel's dOCUMENTA, an art exhibition I wish I had visited when I lived in Germany. No pics, so you'll have to go to Van yourself to get the Farmer cercie!

VAN NIGHT LIFE

Thanks to a friend from Columbia who now lives in Vancouver, I had a spectacular night on the town. I met Ricardo for dinner in Gastown at a Latin American place called Cuchillo. We ordered roasted baby corn on the cobs with the husks, fish tacos and ceviche. Amazing. And ain't it nice to have a walking tour of a beautiful city at night? Ricardo took me through Gastown and Chinatown, with a stop at The Keefer Bar, where I ordered specialty gin cocktails (just two!) -- The Dragon Fly and Ain't Got No Thyme. Too bad it wasn't Thursday night; we missed the Sweet Soul Burlesque show.

I spent the last day in Vancouver with a delicious St. Regis "complimentary" breakfast, and a walk to the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden. It was a very ying-yang experience filled with cercies. An oasis of natural beauty in the middle of the city. If pictures say a thousand words ...

Final stop before heading home ... Bella Gelateria! I ordered, upon Ricardo's suggestion, chocolate lavender in a cone. Amazing combination of flavors. It was a sensual delight just watching the young lady swirl and sculpt the gelato, melding the two flavors into one on the cone. It wasn't just a scoop and dump operation. This was art. I wish I could order the gelato and the presentation of it online and have it delivered!

BACK TO BLAINE

Back to Blaine, with one very important stop before I crossed the border: Laura's children love Papa John's pizza. The closest location is just across the line in Canada. So Laura called in the order, and I picked it up on my way back from Vancouver. Imagine the look on the border patrol's face when I said the only thing I bought in Canada was pizza ... I think he thought I was smoking something. Literally. Pot is legal in Washington!

A quick pizza delivery in Blaine, a shuttle ride to SEA-TAC and a long wait for the red eye back to CLT, another shuttle to Columbia ... and it's a wrap!

Dolly was such a "doll" when I arrived home (at 8:30 a.m.) I missed my little fluff! Next time, she travels with. She would like the temps in the Pacific Northwest.

Bon adventure!

Jens Cercie

Pix message from my friend Angie last month of her newborn's gorgeous face ... little Jens. He has been making appearances on FaceBook ever since. And he's been on my mind: "I need to see that baby." 

I thought of him again today while I was in Greenville for work. At a stoplight. "I could get a quick peek of little Jens after my meeting before heading back to Columbia!" 

Dig for phone in purse. Glance at stoplight. Search for Angie's info. Glance at stoplight (still red). Quick text. SEND. Light turns green. HONK! Throw phone in purse. Off to find a parking spot near Coffee Underground. 

You know you have a fun job when you have meetings at coffee shops called Coffee Underground. I'm early for this one, too. Rare. I walk leisurely, take the steps to the "underground." Open the door. Approach the counter. Scan the shop in search of the people I'm meeting. 

"I'll have a smoothie with a shot of soy protein, please." Glance again at the scene. 

STOP THE TRAIN. 

Am I seeing things? Can it be? 

Angie is sitting in one of the lounge chairs feeding little Jens! 

I sneak over. "I bet you weren't expecting to see me here!" They didn't look surprised. 

Angie: "Did you get my text?" 

Amy: "No! I haven't checked my phone, yet." 

Angie: "I just sent you a note that we are at Coffee Underground."

I don't know what's my most favorite: That they were already at Coffee Underground and I was headed there anyway, that I was pleasantly surprised by a real-world "collision" vs. a preparatory "we are here" text message or that I got to see the baby and his mamma!

The little serendipitous moments of life that make you feel connected to everything. That make it all seem worthwhile. That bring such joy. The Jens Cercies.

Bringing CERCIE Back

Let's not dwell on the fact that I have abandoned this blog for nearly four years ... !

Let's dwell on the Cercie moment of the day: The Intern Cercie.

It's Monday. It's raining. It's dreary. We file into staff meeting, go around the table detailing our busy calendars for the week. As I walk out of the board room and pass Ms. Yvonne's receptionist desk, she calls me aside. "Amy, I have something for you." She pulls out a pretty package with a card. "The intern that worked for you last year came by last week and left this for you," she said. I snatched it up with glee, like a little dog grabbing a bone and running off to enjoy it in private. I snuck off to my office and set it on my desk, admiring it, savoring the moment of anticipation before opening it.

The card was dear. The kindest, most endearing words. Taylor the Intern is on her way to working a job at Teach for America in South Carolina, thanks to my guidance and recommendations and so on. I thought to myself, "You did all that on your own, girl. I was just cheerleading." But it really touched me. I thought about the little encouragements we give and get throughout the day, throughout our lives. They matter, and they mattered to my former intern so much that she went out of her way to thank me.

She remembered how I always had a Tervis tumbler full of coffee, and that I'm a Furman grad, so I was thrilled when I pulled the purple and white curly ribbon off the package to pull out a new tumbler with a Furman logo on it! I read and reread Taylor's note. She is a lovely writer.

I can't think of a better person to be going into schools in distressed areas of the state to help transform the lives of young people who rarely get those little encouragements in life, the young people who rarely get to feel the Cercie Joy that I did today.

Spring is for Cercies

Serendipitous joy when my beloveds and I got together for four days of mountain music fun at Merlefest in North Carolina. A High Country Cercie. Photographer extraordinaire Robert McCartney not pictured.

Pride Cercie, when my brother Billy Love decided to host an art show of his recent works, AND entered the Columbia Museum's Young Artist of the Year show, winning the People's Choice award!

Mittagessen Cercie
My German friend Claudia set up a lunch date for me and all my cohorts from the days at Deutsche Telekom in Germany. While I'm in Germany this summer, we will get to have a little reunion. Her email invitation and all the kind responses popped into my inbox last week and made my day. We love Claudia.


We also love when the little people show up at the pool in the summer. Children are naturals - you just never know what Soul Cercies of joy they will bring just by being themselves. One of my friends brings the kids out to the pool, and they just learned to swim. I get to help them practice. The four-year-old whispered to me today before she took off like a little fish, "You are my coach."

I think my friend Brooke is fantastic. I think she is even more fantastic now that she has sent me a real live Power Frau Cercie in the mail. No occasion; just her infinite niceness. She sent a note and a magnet that I immediately stuck on my fridge. It says:

"I'm fairly certain that given a cape and a nice tiara, I could save the world."

Ornament. Fruit basket. Bombshell. Hike.

Holiday Serendipity. LOVE it.

Authentic Trick Cercie
(Do not try this one at home, unless you're a natural). My friend Craig showed up at my house before Christmas and pulled an ornament out of his pocket. It was for my tree! Come on, people.

Fruit Basket Cercie
Tonya the Christmas Fairy left me a fruit basket: pears, apples, cherries! We like healthy cercies.

Bombshell Cercie
Meg the Christmas Bombshell mailed me a cercie from the ATL. Big box stashed under the door mat on my front porch (because the big box is always stashed under the door mat on the front porch). I took said box into the house, set it on my kitchen table, cut away the tape and pulled out the package. It was wrapped in bright blue and turquoise tissue tied with a fantastic purple tinsel knot. And a note:

"I can't tell if this gift is hideous or fabulous, but it's definitely "hellooo, bombshell."

What could it be?! Oh! A headless Maharaja Medussa Hoola Dancing Goddess that holds jewelry. Of course! It is fabulous, and even more so now that it's adorned with my jewelry.

Hiking Cercie
Sunday was road trip to Ceasar's Head in Upstate, South Carolina. Jordan drove us in his new Jeep. Georgie the Traveling Giraffe was along for the ride - his first excursion into the mountains. Little did he know he'd also see his first snow! Though he didn't hike Raven Cliff Trail with us - nor did he get to meet the Germans who were also hiking the trail (ja wohl!) - Georgie did get a view of Table Rock. He was so ecstatic about this that he kissed me right on my wind-chapped cheek. Danke, Georgie!

One last stop in Taylors, South Carolina after the hike, to visit meine Freunde The Starkers. Georgie was given a hearty welcome by Noah and Liam. He has never stayed with two young boys before and is in for 100% action-filled adventure. Have fun, Georgie! Don't forget to report from the field.

G-Cercie

Just because I haven't posted in nearly half a year (what?!), doesn't mean the Cercie Love has run out. In fact, there has been so much of it that I cannot-cannot contain it all.

But my favorite and immediate Cercies ...

this weekend:

I went to a christmas concert in Red Bank, South Carolina, and Johnny Irion and Sarah Lee Guthrie showed up.

tonight:

I had my first Instant Cercie.

I got a two-in-one g-chat cercie from Seven and Thirty-Seven (see "Blogs I like")

That means I got to chat with my friend Jen (37) and her daughter (7)- at the same time! Seven and Thirty-Seven are new wave mother-daughter bloggers. Only such duo I know about. They rock it. And tonight on g-chat, I got to waste a full 30 minutes chatting online with them. About WHAT, you ask? You won't believe it.

HAM.

Yes, HAM.

'Tis the season for HAM, right? HAM bones. HAM hocks. HAM lettes ... So c'mon, HAM it up!

Spoleto. Rollerderby. Moonvine. Junebug.

In 1995 I went on foreign study to England with a band of miscreants from Furman. Dusti was one of them. We took classes in the mornings, played afternoons and evenings, wrote in our journals late at night. One morning during class, Dr. Radel had us on the topic of art and geography or something, and Dusti shot her hand up to make a comment. "You know, Charleston has a sister city called Spoleto." Many laughed, because they had no idea what she was talking about. But I did! Spoleto is a city in Italy, and in many ways, a sister to Charleston. We share a visual and performing arts festival started in Italy, and celebrated yearly now in Charleston since 1977.

I've been going to Spoleto since high school. And now it's a tradition for Dusti and me to go together. I look forward to it every year. This year, we had (nosebleed) tickets at the Galliard for the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater's 50th anniversary celebration. Amazing. I got a dance cercie when the company performed Suite Otis (a tribute to Otis Redding). I had never seen that piece. I am always delighted and disappointed all at once with the ephemeral nature of live performance.



Georgie the traveling Giraffe went with me to Spoleto, his first experience in Charleston. He seemed to fit right in at Dusti and Jonathan's house. I think this marks his first experience living with cats. Dusti and Jonathan have three: Faulkner, Whitman, and Titus Bramble. I hope they are all getting along with Georgie, and don't mind him on their hearth for awhile longer.

I got a rollerderby cercie while in Charleston, too. The Lowcountry Highrollers in a bout against the Charlotte Bdazzlers. I was surprised by my own enthusiasm to see the Charleston rollergirls win. By the end of the night, we were all on our feet cheering. Who knew?

That was May. Month of arts and music and festivals and ... moonvines. I soaked last year's seeds and planted them about five weeks ago. By the end of May, there were at least three sprouts, then the heart shaped leaves, then the entwined vines reaching for any possible highpoint. And soon there will be blossoms in the evenings. Big white ones! I will post pictures - they will be your moonlight cercies.

This is June. Month of poolside and sweltering Columbia summer heat and ... LUCK? I was at the garden center this afternoon looking for geraniums and a fern, when ... "Hello!" A ladybug landed right on my chest. I slipped my finger close to her so she would crawl onto it. She did, and went up my arm, then flitted off. My little Junebug luck cercie.

Tulips, bread and a giraffe

Tulips



Spring has been full of cercies.

Tulips are my favorite flowers, ushering in my favorite time of year. When I came home last month one day after work, I found a pot of tulips stuck artfully in my fern planter at the back door. Bright pink popping out of all that green. Wonderful! Thanks, mom. :)

Bread
My good friend Lisa Ellis and I have been training for the past three months. She was my inspiration after she did her first half marathon this year. I'm not much of a runner, but I like the weight training. And I like my new healthy lifestyle hobby. Most of the time Lisa and I are good at keeping one another accountable. She slipped a few Sundays ago, though, and dropped off a loaf of homemade bread. I won't say if I at the whole thing by myself, but it was sweet and delightful. Best of all, a dear friend just showed up at my door and surprised me with it. Who does that anymore? Awesome.

Giraffe



I can't say I'm glad I have Georgie back, because Amanda and I had to be sneaky about taking him when Stella wasn't at home. And Stella so loved him - even gave him his name! But Amanda felt now was as good a time as any, and Georgie should make a new journey.

So the traveling giraffe enjoyed a road trip with me to Merlefest in North Carolina. His first trip to the Blueridge. He got to watch a thunderstorm roll in to Banner Elk as the Honda wound around the curves, hugging the mountain rock through the rain. I would have stopped for a photo opp were it not for the crashing thunder and lightening. He really loved meeting Rob and Meg, and got lots of fresh air at the Mast Farm Inn where we stayed. The bunnies there on the Mast Farm were caged, so Georgie felt happy to be free to sit outside our door unattended. He didn't make it to Merlefest itself. They allow children at the festival - but not giraffes - so he'll just have to look forward to another road trip soon to Charleston for Spoleto. We are very excited indeed about that. But don't tell Dusti - it will spoil the Cercie.

P.S. I've added new blog links and inspiration links. I discovered some wonderful folk artists at Merlefest in the vendor tents (Periwinkle Pass and Art Farm). And just yesterday at the Columbia Crawfish Festival, I discovered a local artist who reforms trash into treasures (Jen Ann Miner). Delightful.

Just de(s)sert

I had a play date today with one of my closest girlfriends from Furman. Since she got hitched back in May, it's been a little difficult to get together. But we pulled it off this weekend, and had a full-on day of Girl Fun in Charleston.

It started with pedicures. Next, a fabulous jaunt to Five Loaves in Mt. Pleasant. Not just dessert ... three courses, starting with Asparagus soup with goat cheese, then Tilapia salad with lemon dressing and a glass of wine, topped off by coconut cake with cream cheese dressing. YUM. A little shopping followed by a personal show and tell of Dusti's latest creative endeavor - the Splatter Paint Purse - and call it a perfect day!

Made only better by the invitation to join Dusti, her husband and several other of their friends on a week-long excursion to Arizona this Summer! A REAL vacation, with rented vans and Vegas nights, mud spas, a vacation house and no humidity! Just desert.

"T" Cercie

My namesake Elizabeth "T" Seabrook Jenkins Love - better known among her beloved grandchildren as Mama "T" - passed away in January. She lived 91 years in South Carolina. I think she left an indelible mark on the state, and on many lives of those who knew and loved her. I think of her and miss her everyday.

It was easy to love Mama "T." She was vivacious and fun and full of generosity. One of the most touching things since her passing is how she is remembered by others, even people who are strangers to me, but whom she knew well.

Take South Carolina House member Lester P. Branham, Jr. of Lake City, for example.

I was making the rounds in conversation at a function after work one evening, and ran into a cohort who introduced me to Representative Branham. "Love," Branham stated as he read my nametag. "Yep," I answered. And so it went until he unraveled the story of how he'd met "T" years ago, pastored her church in Orangeburg, and then again when she moved to Greenwood. How he'd married her daughter Laurie, my Aunt, to George in Orangeburg, and knew my cousin and Uncle's brother very well. "Your grandmother was a sure thing. If there was anyone I knew I could count on to show up and do her part, it was 'T'," he said. I beamed, as if he'd just given me a personal compliment. And so I was fully satisfied, if not a little proud, that my grandmother had set such a reputation before her. And that someone I'd never met, who himself had encountered many faces and personalities in his long career, honored Mama "T" by remembering her so well to me.

It was a "T" Cercie.

---------

Elizabeth T J. Love -- Orangeburg
Friday, January 09, 2009

Elizabeth "T" Jenkins Love, 91, of Orangeburg, died Thursday morning, January 8, 2009, at National Health Care of Greenwood.

Graveside services will be held at 2 p.m. Saturday, January 10, in the Memorial Park Cemetery, with the Rev. Tony Hopkins officiating.

Mrs. Love was born in Charleston, a daughter of the late Charles Walter Jenkins and Laura Seabrook Jenkins. She was a graduate of Memminger High School, the College of Charleston and received her Masters degree from S.C. State University. Mrs. Love worked for 14 years in the North Charleston and Orangeburg Departments of Recreation. She taught in the public schools of Charleston County and retired from teaching in the Orangeburg City schools in 1979. She was a life member of Delta Kappa Gamma, professional education fraternity.

Mrs. Love resided in Orangeburg for 44 years before making her home in Greenwood to be near her daughter. She was a former deacon, Sunday School teacher and teacher of the International Ministry at First Baptist Church in Orangeburg. In Greenwood, she was a member of First Baptist Church and Benson Sunday School class and the Retired Teachers Organization. She was an avid golfer and tennis player.

Mrs. Love is survived by a son, Baylus Cade Love Jr. and wife, Sandie C. Love of Columbia; a daughter, Laurie Love Cone and husband, Dr. George P. Cone Jr., of Greenwood; four grandchildren, Robert W. Cone and wife, Emily, Charles P. Cone, Amy E. Love and William (Billy) C. Love; one great-grandchild, Preston T. Cone; a brother, Oliver H. Jenkins of Charleston.

The family will receive friends from 6 to 7 p.m. Friday evening in the Parlor of First Baptist Church, Greenwood and following the graveside service in Orangeburg.

Memorials may be made to First Baptist Church, P.O. Box 637, Orangeburg, SC 29116, or First Baptist Church, 722 Grace Street, Greenwood, SC 29649.

Dukes-Harley Funeral Home of Orangeburg is in charge of arrangements.

'Ring' in the New Year

First post of the New Year! So much serendipity in 2008. And 2009 started out with a 'ring' (don't get excited, Mom. I don't mean THAT kind).

Angie and Carly invited me for New Year's Eve. Two very fine parties with very fine friends. The second a bit more raucous than the first, but as it should be.

A good topic for girls at any party is jewelry. And what better piece to discuss as you 'ring' in the New Year than ... well, you guessed it. I wore my hammered gold 'wonder twins' ring New Year's Eve. The setting is raised, and at one time framed a gorgeous piece of green glass, hand-carved with a scene from Italy. Until I wore it out dancing ... I had to replace the broken glass with the best alternative, a piece of green tourmaline that makes it look like something I won at the fair. But it's a party ring, nonetheless, so I wear it when I go to one. Another friend at the party wore her green tourmaline, too, though hers was set inside a swirl of diamonds. Of course we talked about our rings long enough to drink an entire glass of wine.

That was just the warm up for the rowdier party - with the South Americans.

At the second party, it didn't take too much champagne for me to get curious in the guest bathroom and peek into the little wood box next to the sink. It was FULL of amazing rings! All shapes and colors, many of them acrylic, or made of wood with special designs. I snapped it shut. "Don't try one on, Amy. That would be a gaffe." Instead, I went to the hosts and confessed. Lili and Ana laughed when I spilled the beans (not the rings), about discovering their ring treasures. They took me to the room where they kept even more spectacular jewelry from artisans in South America, whose work the two art collectors bring back to sell in the U.S.

Partially due to too much champagne, I gushed and awed at the jewelry, until Lili offered me one of the most spectacular, raspberry-colored acrylic rings. "Here, you take this one," she insisted, and shoved it onto my finger. I was delighted, of course, and got to 'ring' in the New Year with a cercie and smile!

P.S. I gave it back the next morning ... don't drink and 'cercie.'

Traveling giraffe goes to Greenville

After much protest - not from Tess, but from her Uncle Greg - Traveling Giraffe left its first stop in Columbia, where it had found a loving home at the Maxwell's. I think it really liked the fine view of the lake from their back porch, and the constant little girl sounds echoing throughout their beautiful home. But it was time for a new adventure, and just before Thanksgiving, I went by the Maxwell's to claim Giraffe, promising them that Giraffe would certainly make its way back to a place where it was once so well-loved.

And so we were off - Giraffe and I - on a road trip to Greenville. I think it enjoyed listening to the iTunes mix I made for the trip: an eclectic assembly of Deanna Carter, the Troggs, Calexico and Iron and Wine, Gnarles Barkley ... good tunes make for good travel.

My friend Amanda - the next unawares recipient of Giraffe - met me at the Place of Peace at Furman. If you need renewal, go there. It has magical powers. Much like Traveling Giraffe has powers of spreading cercie love and joy wherever it goes.

First – renewal, second – serendipity ...

After the Place of Peace, Amanda and I headed to downtown Greenville and I surprised her with Traveling Giraffe. We took him to lunch with us. Turned heads. Smiles. Friendly commentary. Envy. "I want a Giraffe!" exclaimed the grown man at the table beside ours.

Amanda took Giraffe home that day and surprised her daughter Stella with it. As you can see from the photo capturing the moment, Stella is quite enamored of Giraffe. So enamored, in fact, that she's given it a name!

Say hello to Georgie Giraffe.

The perfect guy cercie

I spent time this week at the Museum of Natural History in D.C. The T-Rex replica was particularly exciting. If only my friend's son Noah could have been there with me. He's a two-going-on-twenty-year-old dinosaur buff. Can name 'em all. So I went by the museum shop on my way out and bought Noah the Encyclopedia Prehistorica Dinosaurs pop-up book by acclaimed pop-up artist Robert Sabuda. When I delivered Noah the book today, I also promised his four-month-old brother Liam that he'd get one, too, some day ... as soon as we figured out exactly what he likes besides breast milk. "A pop-up boob book!" his mother quipped.

The perfect guy cercie [giggle].

Annabelle and Peppercorn

Annabelle and Peppercorn were all dressed up for Halloween.

Two basset hounds - fat ones. It's hard to tell them apart, and rarely are they. Two peas in a pod you could say. Or in the case of Halloween night, two 'bees' in a pod. Each has black and white spots, droopy ears, short legs, a long tail -- and on October 31st, bumble bee wings. "If Annabelle and Peppercorn could fly ..." we teased later.

My friend Tonya is a true Cercie Lover. Annabelle and Peppercorn are her babies. She dresses them up every year for trick-or-treaters. For the past two years she's had Halloween photos made of the 'kids' dressed as bumble bees. She leaves the photo with a tiny little bag full of candy at my doorstep on Halloween. A little BOO! cercie.

Save the date

I got a little save-the-date cercie today.

How can a notice about something in the future be serendipitous, you ask? Easy, when you're saving the date for a baby-on-the-way! Two of my dearest friends today sent word that each is expecting her first baby in the Spring of 2009.

Kelly made the announcement by posting a picture on Face Book of a Carolina Gamecocks 'onesie' with a note on it that said: Save the date! May 4, 2009. Karen sent out her daily e-mail poetry snapshot - this time with a special poem attached by Nan Cohen called “A Newborn Girl at Passover" (though she's actually expecting a boy). Congratulations, Kelly and Jeff, and Karen and Jim! And thanks for sharing your joyous surprise news with me. It gave me my cercie rush of the day. I'm starting to get addicted ... more - more - more!

Later Gator

Lucky for me, my aunt and uncle decided on a coastal retirement. Uncle Bill likes big toys, to boot - RVs, waverunners, motorcycles. His latest: a Hurricane, the one we took out to the marina on Sunday. "Later Gator" is a 300 hp bright and shiny deck boat.

"Want to drive it Little Aimmer?" I couldn't believe he was going to let me behind the wheel of his brand new, very expensive water baby. Pull up on the throttle, adjust the trim, plane out ... watch that wake!! Sharp right around that buoy! Pull into the marina ... are you kidding??

Well, I didn't go all the way into the marina, but I came close enough. And what's better, I got a cercie rush on the intercoastal waterway!

Traveling giraffe

One of my friends has a little silent auction fetish; she shows up to every fundraiser armed with a blank check and ready to do some bidding.

This night was no exception. We were elbow to elbow with the other guests at the gala, all admiring the options set out on tables inside the auction room ... an authentic Japanese dinner, a hiking weekend getaway, a piece of original art. And a hand-carved and painted GIRAFFE. With unbridled excitement I shrieked, "I love that!"

It was done. Fetish friend had already written in #78 with her bid, and it went unmatched. I tried to talk her into bidding on something for herself, but she insisted. "You got the giraffe!" people shouted after me as we were leaving. Yes, I thought - the perfect cercie - given by a good friend eager to spread some cercielove.

I'd love nothing more than to keep the giraffe all to myself, but if it's going to continue to spread cercielove, then it needs to be circulated among friends. We agreed we would pass it around, surprising friends with it, sending it often on adventures. First stop: Columbia, South Carolina. Giraffe is staying with two of my dear friends, and I'm hoping their little niece will name it, and share with it lots of adventures before it goes on to its next destination.

Keep watch - Traveling Giraffe cercie might end up on your doorstep next!

Cemetery cercies

I was standing in front of the Arlington Cemetery map and had just located the 'You are here' arrow, when two elderly gentleman walked up to me. "Do you know where you are?" one of them asked. It wasn't a rhetorical question. "We're trying to find our tour." I knew they didn't mean the one from WWII.

Dallas proudly wore his blue VFW hat. He showed me his tan. "I live in Florida," he boasted. Bud was shy; probably not as shy when he was dropping bombs on Okinawa. That's where the two made friends. This visit to Arlington was a reunion of their unit, and they'd wandered off during the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, losing their tour group.

"If you'll go with me to see Arlington House, I'll let you escort me back to the visitor center," I offered. It was a deal. We had a Scottish woman take our picture at Arlington House. Bud to the right of me, Dallas to the left. Little me between two Veterans of War - arms around each others' backs, Arlington vista in the background. Behind us you could see all the way beyond the Potomac to the Capitol. This was the same view Robert E. Lee took in every morning over coffee, before Virginia ratified an alliance with the Confederacy and seceded from the Union, forcing he and Anna from the mansion. We were linked there - Dallas, Bud and I - with our backs to the vast history of America, and our faces to the camera, attempting to preserve the present.

The picture didn't take. But for me, the memory did. I will not forget Bud and Dallas. They are my Cemetery Cercies. Out of a landscape of graves they were sent to bring me a moment's joy. Delightful, cheerful (somewhat forgetful) living Soldiers among the honored dead.

_______________
Bang the drum slowly
My Rhapsody Playlist
- Lyrics by Emmylou Harris


I meant to ask you how to fix that car
I always meant to ask you about the war
And what you saw across a bridge too far
Did it leave a scar

Or how you navigated wings of fire and steel
Up where heaven had no more secrets to conceal
And still you found the ground beneath your wheels
How did it feel

Bang the drum slowly play the pipe lowly
To dust be returning from dust we begin
Bang the drum slowly I'll speak of things holy
Above and below me world without end

I meant to ask you how when everything seemed lost
And your fate was in a game of dice they tossed
There was still that line that you would never cross
At any cost

I meant to ask you how you lived what you believed
With nothing but your heart up your sleeve
And if you ever really were deceived
By the likes of me

Bang the drum slowly play the pipe lowly
To dust be returning from dust we begin
Bang the drum slowly I'll speak of things holy
Above and below me world without end

Gone now is the day and gone the sun
There is peace tonight all over Arlington
But the songs of my life will still be sung
By the light of the moon you hung

I meant to ask you how to plow that field
I meant to bring you water from the well
And be the one beside you when you fell
Could you tell

Bang the drum slowly play the pipe lowly
To dust be returning from dust we begin
Bang the drum slowly I'll speak of things holy
Above and below me world without end