Enjoy diverse perspectives from West Michigan women.
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I grew up on Lake Michigan in the little Village of Pentwater and I spent all my summer days swimming, playing volleyball, jumping off the pier (trying to not get caught by the authorities), and just sitting with my toes in the soft, clean sand of Charles Mears State Park.
I moved to the Grand Rapids area to go to college and never left. I met my husband, got married, bought a house in Rockford, and still managed to make it to Pentwater nearly every weekend to spend my days at the beach. When my husband and I made a career move in 2010, I told him it would be great if he found a job closer to Lake Michigan. He took this challenge on– and landed us on the wrong side of the Lake in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Not exactly what I had in mind when I said to "keep it close to the Lake, please,” although, when I found out that the house we would be living in was only a mile from Lake Michigan, I was smitten!
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Every six months I try to move the seasonal clothes out of my closet, pack up what needs to be retired, and identify what I NEED for the new season.
We moved about a year and a half ago and what I didn’t realize was how much I didn’t purge. So, last Saturday I spent the dreaded time going through my closet trying on everything. Yes, even those clothes I’ve been hoping to fit into. Here are a few things I learned along the way:
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There I was, sitting on the hood of my car, wondering why I take upon tasks in which I have no clue what I am doing. For those of you who know me, I usually require help with general maintenance. It’s not that I don’t want to learn how to do certain things; it’s just that it once took me five hours to put a book shelf together—these things are just not my forte and being blonde has nothing to do with it.
I have recently paid off my car loan (yay!) and now I need my “Subie” (my Subaru) to last. Therefore, regular general maintenance is required. Also for those who know me, please refer to what happened to previous car. Enough said. Well, I took it upon myself to learn a few things.
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My publisher and I had the honor of attending the Saint Mary's Foundation Ga*La this Saturday. I was very excited to experience this black tie affair, a thrill that increased exponentially when on my lunch break one day last week, I tried on a prom dress from my freshman year of high school, and it still fit.
The dress is nearly ten years old, but it's a classic style in an understated color, besides the zipper still works. In putting on the dress, I got to thinking about the first time I wore it, and how it made me feel then. At the Ga*La, I could see that feeling beaming on every woman's face. Special occasions and special attire make women feel lovely.
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My spring break was a vacation from phrases I hear all too often and don’t really want to hear again. The phrases are spoken by my daughter, aka, The Teenager, whom I love dearly, but sometimes when she speaks, it affects me like nails on a chalkboard. That grinding, whiny sound that just annoys the you know what out of me.
