Megan and Lindy have already extolled the virtues of some of their favorite decadent delights. A bubble bath and a glass of wine. Snuggle time with a beloved child, the painstaking preparation of a gourmet meal, whiling away an afternoon with friends. All balms for the spirit, for sure.
I am also quite fond of a spa pedicure, a Sunday afternoon with a pot of coffee and a pile of old magazines, a week on a cruise ship. But when none of those are available, as is far too often the case, I am willing to settle for something chocolate.
On a good day, I have access to a variety of chocolate treats. A Hershey bar. A bag of Dove dark chocolate squares. A box of Nonni's Cioccolati Biscotti. On a bad day, a handful of semi-sweet chocolate chips will do.
But there came a day when there was nothing chocolate in the house. Sure, I had ingredients for baking, but I didn't have time to wait for a cake or a batch of brownies. I didn't even have ten minutes to run to the store. I was a woman in crisis. I needed chocolate in five minutes or less.
Then I remembered a recipe that went around for a while, something about a five-minute microwave cake in a mug. I googled the recipe, gathered the ingredients, and gave it a try.
Blech! Yes, it resembled chocolate, but in a bland, rubbery sort of way. But I felt the idea had possibilities. So later I experimented with a few other recipes. Finally, I hit upon one that was rich, gooey and delicious.
In a 12-ounce coffee mug, combine butter, water, vanilla and salt. Add sugar, cocoa and flour; mix well. Microwave on high for 60-90 seconds. Center will be molten; be careful not to overcook. Serves 1 generously.
A few chopped pecans tossed into the batter make it even better. Delicious topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
We are always on the lookout for new decadent pleasures to add to our repertoire. Have we missed any of your favorites?
Self indulgent things that make you happy, otherwise known as decadent pleasures are what bring our lives peace, oft meaning, and teach us to appreciate solitude. Like Megan, the days of hot, candlelit baths with wine and a good book are long gone, but I don’t see that as a bad thing. In all honesty there was never really a day I could sit still in a tub, with or without companionship. And desserts, sure, they can be decadent and pleasurable, but in the end they are only different manipulations of sugar and caffeine no matter the vehicle. Sex can be self indulgent and make you happy but that’s another post for another day and certainly not to be posted on a PG blog. Are you laughing? I hope so.
Friends, the closest I can get to something self indulgent that makes me happy are these:
1)A nap with my little girl should she ever decide to close her eyes in the afternoon. The obvious lack of a constant stream of “Mommy. Mommy. Mommy? Mommy!” can be pure bliss. Couple that with actual rest next to someone who you love and who loves you without condition, and well, that’s just pure happy.
2)A home cooked meal that I make myself for the two of us or friends is always a joy. I love stretching my culinary wings and trying new combinations of flavors and textures that lead to the excited sounds of happy. After all, food is joy. Surprisingly, cooking is how I decompress.
Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.
- Harriet Van Horne
3)An hour or two surrounded by good friends, laughing heartily, sharing openly of themselves is like religion; you devote yourself to its pursuit and find your life filled with incomprehensible meaning (you’ll see me quoted on that someday).
4)But I have to tell you that my latest decadent pleasure, please don’t laugh, is reclaiming my space. I spent all day Saturday and most of the day Sunday cleaning out my basement. I emptied the crawl space, organized tools, created a space for Red to play, one for crafting, another for sitting and watching a movie. I carried memories of my past life to the curb after setting aside a box of pictures and memorabilia for Red. At the close of the weekend I had a carport full of junk to be hauled off, a curb cluttered with more for the refuse engineers, and a basement that I am proud to call my (our) own. Ah, happy.
I’ll give you three guesses how I celebrated and it wasn't a hot bath. Ha! What is the self indulgent thing that makes you happy? Does it involve hard work or relaxation? How about recreating yourself? Tell me. I dare you. And you don’t even have to keep it PG.
A 500-square-foot corner studio apartment, fully square in shape with clean, white walls. There are two windows on the front wall that open to the street (which it views from a second story vantage) and a vertical side window – one that likely is the same age as the early 20th century structure – that opens vertically and locks with a twist latch.
The main room takes up a little more than half of the apartment, with original, small plank, hardwood floors. The remaining space is split evenly between a small kitchen and a very large bathroom. The kitchen floor is original, wide, black and white, checkerboard tile. Along with a full wall of sink and cabinets – broken only by a small window that opens onto another building – that connect the floor to the 11-foot ceiling, the kitchen contains a miniature 4-top stove and oven as well as a slightly small fridge that is straight out of the early ‘50’s, lever handle and all.
Are you with me so far?
The piece de resistance to this compact living space is the bathroom area. Immediately inside the doorway is a small, built-in make-up table complete with a large wall mirror. To the right another door leads to the spacious, dark red bathroom that includes more checkerboard floor tile, a full wall of wide storage cabinets, a high rear window that tilts at an angle to let in air and a large, deep, old bathtub.
What I have just described to you is the West Hollywood apartment I lived in from late 1998 until early 1999, just after I separated from my now-ex-husband. That time was among the happiest of my life for the simple fact that life was so… well… so simple.Many people, women in particular, dislike being along. I, on the other hand, enjoy it immensely. I like to be in control of my time, and I have no problem filling my days and nights with a fine combination of rest and activity. Yes, I adore my family and wouldn’t trade them for anything. And no, my solitudinal ecstasy had nothing to do with my ex or with the separation in and of itself. Those post-separation days were simply filled with a very pure type of joy.
I will share that almost every night in that apartment I enjoyed a cherished decadent pleasure. Come with me as I relive it (don't worry... this is PG, or possibly PG-13):
The evening is very dark and late, and the lights are out throughout the tiny apartment. The vertical side window is open to the night, as is the high angled window in the dark red bathroom. The smell of fresh-baked cookies wafts through the space, though the cookies themselves have yet to cool. The “Practical Magic” soundtrack CD is playing just loud enough to drown out the street noise… or maybe it’s the soundtrack to “City of Angels”… 10 or 12 large, lit candles line the horizontal ledges throughout the dark red bathroom, lighting the room just enough to read while still creating an air of calm mystery. The breeze gently drifting in through the windows is cool, but the water in the bath is hot with a thick head of frothy, playful bubbles piled up to a foot high and more around the entire surface. As for me, I lay low in the water, one hand holding a glass of wine, the other holding a novel. And there I stay and read until the bath grows cold and the wine runs low and the bubbles deflate down to a fine, flat sheen on the water.
Ahhhh... ecstasy.
Photo posted respectfully with thanks to Wikipedia.
These days, my evening decadence has been reduced to a small bowl of M&Ms and a glass of milk that I enjoy while folding my family’s laundry. The only bathtub in my house is in my children’s bathroom.
There are nights when I eye that tub, with my glass of wine in hand and my Kindle at the ready with whatever history or fiction I’m enjoying at the moment, and I think about re-instituting my evening bath ritual. Or at least reliving it again just once.
Just once.
What’s your favorite decadent memory or ritual? Share! We may want to give it a try!
My son Nathan went to Vans Warped Tour on Monday. Being a typical 15-year old, he headed straight for the nearest mosh pit - and promptly fell and got his right toe stomped by a fellow at least twice his size. Naturally, that did not stop my boy from walking around at the concert all day. But by the time he got home, his toe was black and blue and swollen and looked progressively worse throughout Tuesday. By suppertime, I decided a trip to the doctor was in order. Turns out that big toe is broken clean across - hence the funky shoe and the propped foot. But that has not stopped Nathan from practicing his new didgeridoo every spare moment; he's had it only a week but he's really getting the hang of it. Yep - this budding rock star displays true dedication to his art.
*****
Megan Stanish * Roswell, GA
Cheery bouquet at the condiments table at our La Quinta.
Whoever invented the concept of the complimentary hotel breakfast buffet should be sainted.
Or knighted.
Or simply hugged. A lot.
*****
Lindy * Decatur, GA
We really can...
Yup. Installed it this week. Yes, I did it myself with my helper/mom handing me tools (God love her). Ladies, we really can do it all. Now, go ahead and ask me if I used the screw gun!
Until next week when we speak of those unspoken decadent pleasures, we remain Pam, Megan, and Lindy the writers, women, moms of WritersLi.P.P.
Maybe the heat and humidity are wearing on me; simply taking the dog out to do his business is oppressive. Maybe it’s the knowledge that summer vacation is almost at an end; I’m one of those weird parents who actually LIKES having my kids around. Maybe it’s the nagging pain resulting from being consistent about going to the gym the past couple of weeks (attagirl, Pam). Maybe it’s the combination of many things. Whatever it is, I haven’t been quite myself the past few days.
Matter of fact, on Sunday I felt downright depressed. My boys were away, there were bills to pay and no money to pay them, and my to-do list seemed to be growing longer instead of shorter, regardless of how many frogs I ate.
Then I looked at this week’s list more closely and saw that I was scheduled to write a blog post called Black Bra Wisdom. “I have no such wisdom to share,” I confided to Lindy and Megan. “I feel old and frumpy and overwhelmed, not sleek and sexy and sophisticated.” But they didn’t offer to let me off the hook. Those young whippersnappers. So here goes.
Decide what to be and go be it.
I didn’t come up with that line. It’s from a song by the Avett Brothers(the music video appears at the end of this post). But I wish I had, because it succinctly summarizes my philosophy of life.
When I was seven years old, I decided I wanted to be a piano teacher when I grew up and I never let anything stand in my way. I figured out the means to overcome every obstacle that appeared in my path and worked relentlessly until I had achieved my goal of receiving a master’s degree in piano performance and piano pedagogy; within three years, I built a studio of over fifty piano students.
I’ll never understand exactly what happened after that. But gradually over a period of time - as I struggled in an abusive marriage, had my business uprooted repeatedly, and dealt with the challenges of raising children and home schooling them - I lost myself. I threw my heart and soul into taking care of my growing family, and got swallowed whole in the process.
There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~Anais Nin
It took me twenty years to come to this realization, then I asked for a divorce. It was messy and complicated, but at last I was free. The problem was I no longer knew who I was. And my self-confidence was shattered. All I knew how to do was to be a mom and teach piano, but since I had to parent almost single handedly and earn a living, those were good things. Slowly, slowly, I began to piece myself back together.
Unfortunately, however, I was also under the illusion that I needed to be a part of a couple to be complete. Happily ever after, right? So I spent years playing the online dating game, jumping from relationship to relationship, morphing myself in chameleon-like fashion into whomever the flavor of the month - or year, or years - happened to need.
Finally, after a broken engagement and another broken heart, something clicked. Yes, there have been a couple of short-term things since then, but my learning curve is improving. And during every stint as a truly single woman – no matter how brief - I discovered unfulfilled desires. I chose to run with them. And I was reminded of the pleasure of spending a Saturday night having fun with girlfriends.
Honestly? Most men can’t compete with the amazing women I know.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as chidren do. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. ~Marianne Williamson, from A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles
Not counting a couple of nights on the town, I have been single for four months now. It wasn’t easy at first. But once I got past the fear of being home alone on a Friday or Saturday night, I was all right. As a matter of fact, I am rather starting to like it.
Mom. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Dog lover. Piano teacher. Blogger. Novelist. Reader. Jewelry designer. Artist. Seamstress. Cook. Baker.
I am all this, and so much more. I discover new things about myself, find new roads to wander, every day. It is exhausting. It is exhilarating. It is real. For the first time in a long time, I am really living.
And most days I’m wearing a black bra while I’m doing it.
About a million years ago, back when the internet first launched and AOL was likely the only service provider; back when we had to listen to that horrid buzzing, whizzing, whirling dial tone sound before we finally got to hear those charmed three words, “You’ve got mail”, I got this e-mail that stuck out in my brain. It was when there were very few clever e-mails going around and connectivity was so unheard of that I got it more than once. That was probably, I may have to refer to Megan here because we were working together at the time at Cameron Newell Advertising, 1997. It was an e-mail about certain qualities, and items, women should possess. I wish I would’ve kept a copy of what was entitled, “Black Bra Wisdom.” If you remember it, fabulous! That was bloody fourteen years ago. If you have a copy, please share it because it was really funny. If not, here is my version:
What every woman in 2011 needs (Deserves? Has earned?):
Your own workshop – Be you a woodworker, a crafter, a tailor, an artist, a writer it is important to have your own space. In 1929, Virginia Woolf said, “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” You may not be a fiction writer, but in today’s world you absolutely need your own space. Take it. Make it your own.
Knowledge of our government – Girls, don’t rest wearily on your laurels because you’ve spent the day in the office only to come home to a house full of siblings screaming at one another and a spouse fussing at you about dinner. Make the time to read, or watch, the news. You cannot rely on the idle conversation you encounter around the water cooler. You need to read, or listen to, the facts and formulate your own ideas and opinions about our leadership. Take advantage of your right to vote, recall this is the right that took us until 1920 to earn, and get some of those close-minded “ole boys” out of office. I implore you.
A “black” bra and panties – Sadly, this advice has long since gone the way of the dodo. Though some women may still prefer black, go with what you love but make certain you have a bra and panties in the drawer for special occasions (i.e. a date night, just to feel good, a little luck for a job interview). There are so many cuts, styles and colors out there you could have your favorite. Mine is hot pink! Can I have an AMEN?
Tools – No, not just power tools, all tools. Talk to your dad, your granddad, or a good guy friend and begin to garner some idea of what you might need tools for and then start accumulating said tools. Here are some examples of things I have done and what you might need to complete the job:
Changing out water stops. Don’t know what a stop is? Know those little knobs under the kitchen and bath sink that cut off the water would you need to? That’s a stop. They typically come in copper and attach to copper so be prepared to break out the heavy equipment. You’ll need a torch, solder, solder paste, a wire brush, etc. Pick up the “How to do just about everything” book at Home Depot and you’ll get the idea. Same tools are needed for changing out a water heater just FYI. And, the answer to your next question is…yes, I have.
Switching out the kitchen faucet. This is not as complicated, but be prepared to take the sink out becasue you aren’t going to be able to get any torque behind that tight-ass, rusty nut that is holding the old faucet on. Get the screw gun (aka drill) and be prepared to take the entire sink out. You’ll need channel locks (looks like a wrench that you can make bigger or smaller), you’ll need a screw driver (yes, do-it-yourself faucets come with set screws – please tell me you know what a set screw is), and along with a few other things you’ll need patience. Hire a sitter because you cannot do this with a three year old underfoot.
Tacking the gutters back to the house. What? Your gutters don’t pull away from the fascia? Mine do. In order to fix them you will need gutter screws, not gutter nails, again with the screw gun, a long metal drill bit (long enough to get through both sides of the gutter – sorry I don’t know length off the top of my head but it’s probably six inches. Right boys?).
Trimming the hedges (not the personal kind). Electric hedge clippers that look a bit like alligator teeth and a really, really long extension cord, unless, of course, you don’t mind plugging and unplugging repeatedly. Be careful not to bite (I mean with the clippers) the cord whilst you are trimming said hedges otherwise you might be in for a bit of a bite yourself.
Contact cards – These are akin to business cards but instead are used for networking the more personal side of you. I have business cards and I have contact cards. They both come in handy in very different situations.
Your own money and knowledge of how to manage it (retirement, spending, savings) - I believe that is all that needs to be said on this subject.
Knowledge – Every bit of education you have obtained in the umpteen years you’ve been around. It doesn’t matter if your knowledge came from a book, the street, an event, emotions, or drama what you know is what you have. Use it.
Fearlessness – In my opinion, the worst of all character traits is fear. It can paralyze you, create self-doubt, and even defeat you. Don’t let it! If you don’t know something then pick up a book, take a class, call a friend, or for goodness sake, just try it. What’s the worst that can happen? You might have to practice or try it again. You might hear “no” right out of the gate, but eventually, if you keep at it, you’ll hear a “yes!”
Friendship - Like Megan said in her post yesterday, connect with others and share yourself, and your wisdom. Life is too short to be experienced without good friends, fabulous wine, and rich dark chocolate. When you possess these things you need little else.
What do you think a woman needs to be empowered?
Life in Penned Perspective by Lindy Chaffin Start
Forgive me for today's excruciatingly long post, but these things had to be said. :-) www.unstoppablestart.com
I would start with “this one’s for the ladies,” but frankly I think the men can always learn a lot from anything that’s “for the ladies.” So this is for every reader we have of every age and gender, but it is going to be addressed to the ladies.
Alright, ladies, listen up! You know how for years we’ve been grumbling about The Old Boys Club? As a woman, it’s a bit aggravating (threatening? disheartening?) to hear about male colleagues going out with each other to play golf, grab a beer or even hit a strip club – oh, yes, this happens, and not just in movies – building tight relationships with each other that lead to close partnerships at work that in turn lead to growth opportunities, promotions and the like. Well, the time to stop the grumbling is now!
It’s our turn.
Before I explain, let me ask: Is it supposed to be The Old Boys Club as in “a club full of old boys”? Or is it The Old Boy’s Club as in “there’s some old guy who started this club”? Or perhaps it’s The Old Boys’ Club… but this even leaves room for interpretation. Is it the club that’s old or the boys in the club who are aged? No matter how you look at it, though, it’s old. Outdated. Going the way of the dinosaurs.
The new club is for us. I refer to it as The Soccer Mom Alliance. Before anyone becomes offended, of course this club is not limited to mothers or married women. I only temporarily named the club The Soccer Mom Alliance because the power of us hit me when my fellow soccer moms (bear in mind, my soccer child is 3 years old) started to reach out to each other to hook up via LinkedIn and to get together for a ladies' night. If you would prefer, we could call it simply The Alliance. Or anything else, really. Thoughts? Suggestions?
Here’s the deal. Up until late-ish in the 20th century, men held the cards. For years, the majority of women either worked as homemakers, which restricted their sphere of influence due to the technological limitations of the times, or worked outside the home within a very limited subset of roles. Men’s roles allowed more freedom and visibility, thus providing them the opportunity to establish that Old Boys Club in the ways now familiar to us all.
Recent times have provided us the foundation for the new order, our new Alliance:
A waning of the limitations on women in the workplace
Reinvigorated respect for the challenging work homemakers manage
Ever-more extracurricular activities in which children of ever-widening ages participate, with ever-greater parental attendance
Social media
In other words, we women are together more than ever, often in groups, with ever-widening circles of influence. And now, thanks to social media, a tool that reinforces and breathes life into our natural inclination to interact and socialize, our time has come. We can reach out to one another 24/7: for laughs, for fun, for a check-in, for an ear or a shoulder… and yes, for professional support.
Two future Alliance members, already supporting each other.
Professional support… Hm. No, that’s too wishy-washy, too old-school, too women-in-the-age-of-the-Old-Boys-Club and not Alliance enough. How’s this: To build and reinforce our professional caché, to leverage an expansive advisory network, to impart our own expertise, and to establish and broaden our professional empires.
There. That’s better.
How do we start? Well, there is one thing crucial thing we can learn from the boys: Ask. Ask to connect – on Facebook, on Twitter, on LinkedIn, via email, for a ladies’ night, for coffee… And yes, ask for the opportunity to learn about what we can offer each other, personally and professionally. There’s power in asking, power in sharing and amazing power in building those bonds. What is it they say in those lottery commercials? You can’t win if you don’t play?
Sure, we might get No for an answer. But we won’t get to Yes if we don’t ask.
So, what do you think we should call this Alliance?
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