Random Connect Points:
Reba's Stories

One year ago today, I got home from work and found our beloved Dixie had died peacefully in her sleep in her favorite sun puddle on the patio. This is the tribute post I wrote in her memory . I still miss her every day. She was much loved. Not long after Dixie died, I came upon a book written by the playwright Eugene O'Neill in tribute to his much-loved dog, Blemie. It was written as Blemie's last will and testament. The book literally dropped off the shelf onto my foot when I was browsing at my favorite DC bookstore, Kramer Books. This passage in the book gave me great comfort and allowed me to eventually open my heart to bringing a new dog into my life. For this I'm so grateful (and I hope Flossie is too:). I wrote this post back in August reflecting on this passage below. ".. . I have heard my Mistress say, 'When Blemie dies we must never have another dog. I love him so much I could never love another one.'  Now I would ask her, for the love

(Just a daily stream of consciousness writing exercises to sharpen my mind for my first 30 days without a daily work routine. I'm sharing publicly to stay accountable to myself.) Day 1 - January 3 Day one of retirement. New world order. Trying to start an exercise of writing 200 words daily. Maybe a theme of lessons learned today. Some may be too personal to publish here and they'll stay in my journal. Others will end up here. It's ok not to have a plan. It's ok to sleep in a bit. It's ok not to get anything on the to do list done. It's ok to feel a little shaky about this new adventure. It’s ok to feel a sense of gratification from kind notes from people who say I’ve touched their lives. It's ok just to "be" for a while. I did accomplish setting up the dual computer monitors and didn't flip out when I realized I've screwed up my google contacts. Nothing a trip to the Best Buy geek squad won't be able to fix, I feel certain. A

This is what 35 years of professional life looks like Who knew that hundreds of papers in file folders, thousands of emails and digital documents, scads of photos, and boxes filled with old thank you notes could have conjured up the emotions I recently experienced as I started packing up 35 years of stuff as I prepare to retire on Jan. 2. I wasn't expecting the rush of memories that came from opening a book of quotes from my first job writing speeches for a Congressman or skimming through files of planning documents that set out the vision for big projects that ultimately became successful. As I sat on my office floor sorting through so much of this, I was overcome by the magnitude of gratitude I have for the crooked path of work experiences I’ve accumulated over the past 35 years and the countless co-workers, bosses, colleagues, professional friends and (yes, even) foes who have taught me so much. I’ve attempted to sort out some of these lessons here: Always be kind.

Thailand. Not exactly on my travel bucket list. I’m more of a European travel bucket list kind of gal. But when my childhood friend Libby moved to Bangkok back in the spring, I said “I'm in.”   Going over Thanksgiving would minimize the amount of time I’d have to take off, but still allow me to be there long enough to justify the 24+ hour journey to get there.   I  bought the ticket months ago almost on a whim. Normally, I’m a big travel planner. I like to research an itinerary, evaluate the options available of what to do, and have a sense of how things will play out before I ever leave home. Knowing Libby would know the lay of the land, fortunately my inner planning genie agreed to take a little rest. It’s a good thing, because I got so overwhelmed by looking at options of what we could do, I kind of shut down… history, art, food, religion, outdoors, wildlife, beaches  … so much to consider. But that’s the beauty of visiting someone who lives there. So here’s to Lib