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Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I’m not cute or built to suit a model’s fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I’m telling lies.
I say
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
Like a bunch of honey bees
I say
It’s the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say
It’s in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace on my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It’s in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand the need for my care.
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
by Maya Angelou
Up Close and Personal with the Man in the Moon
It was time for the acid test. Girlfriends, cherished soul mates who speak truth, met Admiral. The evening was great fun and noisy, of course, with a dozen women talking at once. Admiral loved every minute of being the only man there and being the center of attention. He grinned from ear to ear, posed for snapshots, and talked easily with all. The next day each friend confirmed what I felt - he's a keeper.
"Let's fly up for the day." Admiral said when I talked about an extreme acid test - meeting my Delaware family. “You set the date and I’ll get us there in time for lunch.” he said.
The flight to Wilmington, DE was easy and scenic. The little 'potato chip' plane flew smoothly under Admiral's control, across the Chesapeake Bay, over farmland, cities and interesting landmarks.
The whole clan picked us up at the airport and took us to a charming restaurant in New Castle. The minute Admiral left the table they were full of questions about this man. “So, are you taking flying lessons?” # 1 Son asked right off the bat.
When Admiral returned, the questions changed. Yummy food was consumed over easy conversation with a heavy helping of check-out-the-new-guy-this-must-be-serious undercurrent for this first meeting.
Enjoying ourselves caused a later-than-planned departure for home. The return flight was expectedly smooth. Colors were brilliant as the sun set. Lights twinkled on the ground below and in the heavens above us. Conversation was animated as usual. Suddenly the plane was in a steep bank. “What’s going on? I’m going to throw up. This is the end.” I thought.
When I felt the plane level, I opened my eyes. We were flying straight into the biggest full moon I'd ever seen! I felt like I could reach out and tickle his chin!
Admiral held my hand and said “Look, the moon’s laughing at us. Do you think he laughs as much as we do?”
"Let's fly up for the day." Admiral said when I talked about an extreme acid test - meeting my Delaware family. “You set the date and I’ll get us there in time for lunch.” he said.
The flight to Wilmington, DE was easy and scenic. The little 'potato chip' plane flew smoothly under Admiral's control, across the Chesapeake Bay, over farmland, cities and interesting landmarks.
The whole clan picked us up at the airport and took us to a charming restaurant in New Castle. The minute Admiral left the table they were full of questions about this man. “So, are you taking flying lessons?” # 1 Son asked right off the bat.
When Admiral returned, the questions changed. Yummy food was consumed over easy conversation with a heavy helping of check-out-the-new-guy-this-must-be-serious undercurrent for this first meeting.
Enjoying ourselves caused a later-than-planned departure for home. The return flight was expectedly smooth. Colors were brilliant as the sun set. Lights twinkled on the ground below and in the heavens above us. Conversation was animated as usual. Suddenly the plane was in a steep bank. “What’s going on? I’m going to throw up. This is the end.” I thought.
When I felt the plane level, I opened my eyes. We were flying straight into the biggest full moon I'd ever seen! I felt like I could reach out and tickle his chin!
Admiral held my hand and said “Look, the moon’s laughing at us. Do you think he laughs as much as we do?”
Camping Out with Irene
“Will the drama never cease!” I exclaimed as I watched the Weather Channel. In RVA hurricanes are part of our summer weather, violent as they are. For days the hype built. Irene was huge, strong and getting bigger with each telecast.
The reporter was standing in surf in front of the Red Neck Palace in Kill Devil Hills. This beachfront cottage has been falling in the ocean for 12 years, at least. Hurricane Irene was on the way. At 14 mph she moved at my speed and there was plenty of warning to get to the grocery and stock up.
“It’s raining here.” Mary said. “I’m staying and riding Irene out. Stores are closed. Home Depot is open still. Oh, CNN interviewed my husband and it should be televised soon.” She continued. As we talked the TV flashed to Nags Head where Mary lives. Irene was arriving.
Irene was a big gal – as wide as Europe. Rain and wind projections and past experience said water would come in my house. For the first time in 18 years my house was empty – not one stick of anything, except sheets and towels, remained. “That’s all I need to stay at Sugar House – where life is sweet. I’ll camp out. The power never goes out. I can cook on the gas stove and take a hot shower. This’ll be an adventure.” I thought. My hurricane ready kit included projects to do sans electricity (in case power goes out), a good book, towels for mopping water, candles, matches, beach chair, health bars, chocolate and lots of diet coke.
The rain fell in torrents. The wind howled. I watched from each window while wiping up water blown through the sashes. Sheets of rain flew by. Blossoms on the crepe myrtles and flowers were blown off hours ago. The wind made eerie noises as it screamed by the front door.
Final cleaning to ready Sugar House for the next resident was my second priority, behind mopping up water.
“Just heard a tree’s down by your new house.” Wanda said. Thank heavens for cell phones. “Just saw it on Ch. 12. Thought you’d want to know."
Irene’s screaming winds and banging rain provided background sounds to the chat with my new neighbor I’d met the day before. “Yes, the tree fell. It’s on the other side of my house – well away from yours.” Alice volunteered. “I’ll call you if I see anything happening at your place.”
Lights flickered. “Is this it? Daylight’s fading. I better find the candles and matches now. “ I decided.
Ready for the worst I relaxed in my beach chair, watched wind-blown rain dance off the buildings, saw trees sway and connected with children and girlfriends, while sipping a Starbuck’s, brought in and reheated to make this adventure civilized. If I’m camping, I want all the luxuries.
Darkness fell. Sitting under the lone overhead light, I read, drank wine, and nibbled my dinner.
Perfect evenings end when it’s time to mop water and fix my bed – pads and layers of sheets piled on the floor on top of each other. As I crawled in, the floor got hard. As I settled under the covers, it got harder. My bones got sharper.
“And my children used to sleep like this! No wonder they were awake half the night.” I thought. “This sucks. Life here isn’t sweet now. I don’t do floor sleeping. What were you thinking! I can drive to my new house and that comfy bed would feel so fabulous. But it’s raining. I don’t know where trees are down or if the highway is open. I hate being out in driving rain. I’d better stay here. I can do this. Good night, Irene.” I said.
I must've slept as I woke to a breathtakingly beautiful morning. The clearest blue sky highlighted with pink puffies was my first sight. The quiet was almost deafening. Irene was gone. All was well. The drama had ceased.
The reporter was standing in surf in front of the Red Neck Palace in Kill Devil Hills. This beachfront cottage has been falling in the ocean for 12 years, at least. Hurricane Irene was on the way. At 14 mph she moved at my speed and there was plenty of warning to get to the grocery and stock up.
“It’s raining here.” Mary said. “I’m staying and riding Irene out. Stores are closed. Home Depot is open still. Oh, CNN interviewed my husband and it should be televised soon.” She continued. As we talked the TV flashed to Nags Head where Mary lives. Irene was arriving.
Irene was a big gal – as wide as Europe. Rain and wind projections and past experience said water would come in my house. For the first time in 18 years my house was empty – not one stick of anything, except sheets and towels, remained. “That’s all I need to stay at Sugar House – where life is sweet. I’ll camp out. The power never goes out. I can cook on the gas stove and take a hot shower. This’ll be an adventure.” I thought. My hurricane ready kit included projects to do sans electricity (in case power goes out), a good book, towels for mopping water, candles, matches, beach chair, health bars, chocolate and lots of diet coke.
The rain fell in torrents. The wind howled. I watched from each window while wiping up water blown through the sashes. Sheets of rain flew by. Blossoms on the crepe myrtles and flowers were blown off hours ago. The wind made eerie noises as it screamed by the front door.
Final cleaning to ready Sugar House for the next resident was my second priority, behind mopping up water.
“Just heard a tree’s down by your new house.” Wanda said. Thank heavens for cell phones. “Just saw it on Ch. 12. Thought you’d want to know."
Irene’s screaming winds and banging rain provided background sounds to the chat with my new neighbor I’d met the day before. “Yes, the tree fell. It’s on the other side of my house – well away from yours.” Alice volunteered. “I’ll call you if I see anything happening at your place.”
Lights flickered. “Is this it? Daylight’s fading. I better find the candles and matches now. “ I decided.
Ready for the worst I relaxed in my beach chair, watched wind-blown rain dance off the buildings, saw trees sway and connected with children and girlfriends, while sipping a Starbuck’s, brought in and reheated to make this adventure civilized. If I’m camping, I want all the luxuries.
Darkness fell. Sitting under the lone overhead light, I read, drank wine, and nibbled my dinner.
Perfect evenings end when it’s time to mop water and fix my bed – pads and layers of sheets piled on the floor on top of each other. As I crawled in, the floor got hard. As I settled under the covers, it got harder. My bones got sharper.
“And my children used to sleep like this! No wonder they were awake half the night.” I thought. “This sucks. Life here isn’t sweet now. I don’t do floor sleeping. What were you thinking! I can drive to my new house and that comfy bed would feel so fabulous. But it’s raining. I don’t know where trees are down or if the highway is open. I hate being out in driving rain. I’d better stay here. I can do this. Good night, Irene.” I said.
I must've slept as I woke to a breathtakingly beautiful morning. The clearest blue sky highlighted with pink puffies was my first sight. The quiet was almost deafening. Irene was gone. All was well. The drama had ceased.
With love on your 111th Birthday, Aunt Kate
“You’re wearing a path through my yard. You’ve got to stop that. “ Aunt Kate sternly said as she stopped me in my tracks on the way to second grade. Her yard was half way between home and school, a path walked almost daily. Filled with fear and trembling, I said “Yes, ma’m. I won’t do it again.” On my way I went, thinking “When is she gone so she won’t catch me again?”
Aunt Kate was a large woman with a strong voice. Married to my mother’s brother, Aunt Kate was a solid Christian, the first woman elected to the governing body of her church when women were more silent than heard. She was my god mother, a role she took seriously. And she was the woman who most positively influenced me and truly loved me.
Knowing how crazy my family was, she gave me glimpses of a sane, loving world. She bought me my first new tennis racket, replacing the hand-me-down racket from Mother’s teen years. With her I experienced my first airplane ride - all the way across the country. We were visiting her grandchildren, cousins who were my age. On that flight I sat by the window, taking in the scenery, spellbound by huge flat fields, glacier covered mountains and the Grand Canyon. I don’t think I moved a muscle.
The entire summer was spent experiencing life in Silicon Valley. There were strawberries to pick; the chilly very salty Pacific Ocean to wade in; a swimming pool for daily splashing and cousins to hang out with. I didn’t want to go home.
Eight weeks at Camp Alleghany in the West Virginia hills were heaven. Another whole summer away from home was better than good. Home sick was never in my vocabulary.
When my parents went away for months, I got to stay with Aunt Kate. These were the times I got As at school. The routine was rigid, centered on doing homework and all that makes A students. She was so authoritarian I didn’t want to know what any consequences were so I always followed her rules and life was good.
I never really got how special Aunt Kate was until she and Uncle Garland moved to Westminster-Canterbury, where you could live and be cared for ‘til you died. She wasn’t going to be a burden to her children in declining years, as she experienced taking care of her father in his decline.
Born in 1900 she delighted in telling every and anyone how old she was. On her 90th birthday the whole clan, 60 strong, gathered from across the country to honor her. Many of the nine girls named Katharine after her were there. My daughter is K8.
When my marriage ended, I dreaded telling her, fearful she would be disappointed in me. Again she wanted to provide for me.
Aunt Kate began to slow down after Uncle Garland passed away. Soon she gave up leading Stretch-&-Tone for sister residents and her church activities. Failing health and memory took her to assisted living where she lived in a room with familiar furniture and a hospital bed.
I took her to see my new home, bought with her blessing. I dreaded telling her son and the infirmary team that she’d fallen on the stoop and skinned up her shin badly. Luckily nothing was broken. When I told her son about it, he said she was always klutzy, another little known fact.
Faithfully I visited her, noticing each time how much thinner and frailer she was, how little she asked and how much I loved her. One visit was unforgettable. Aunt Kate was sitting in her favorite chair with her half eaten lunch on the tray before her. When I asked about her meal, she said “I’m waiting for the train to come. It slows down so I can pass my tray though the window to them and the poor people on board will have something to eat.” She didn’t mind if I waited with her until the train came.
After I left, I had to pull the car over and park while I wept with a broken heart. My precious fairy godmother Aunt Kate, whom I loved dearly, was gone. The woman who really, really loved me had been stolen by dementia.
Aunt Kate was a large woman with a strong voice. Married to my mother’s brother, Aunt Kate was a solid Christian, the first woman elected to the governing body of her church when women were more silent than heard. She was my god mother, a role she took seriously. And she was the woman who most positively influenced me and truly loved me.
Knowing how crazy my family was, she gave me glimpses of a sane, loving world. She bought me my first new tennis racket, replacing the hand-me-down racket from Mother’s teen years. With her I experienced my first airplane ride - all the way across the country. We were visiting her grandchildren, cousins who were my age. On that flight I sat by the window, taking in the scenery, spellbound by huge flat fields, glacier covered mountains and the Grand Canyon. I don’t think I moved a muscle.
The entire summer was spent experiencing life in Silicon Valley. There were strawberries to pick; the chilly very salty Pacific Ocean to wade in; a swimming pool for daily splashing and cousins to hang out with. I didn’t want to go home.
Eight weeks at Camp Alleghany in the West Virginia hills were heaven. Another whole summer away from home was better than good. Home sick was never in my vocabulary.
When my parents went away for months, I got to stay with Aunt Kate. These were the times I got As at school. The routine was rigid, centered on doing homework and all that makes A students. She was so authoritarian I didn’t want to know what any consequences were so I always followed her rules and life was good.
I never really got how special Aunt Kate was until she and Uncle Garland moved to Westminster-Canterbury, where you could live and be cared for ‘til you died. She wasn’t going to be a burden to her children in declining years, as she experienced taking care of her father in his decline.
Born in 1900 she delighted in telling every and anyone how old she was. On her 90th birthday the whole clan, 60 strong, gathered from across the country to honor her. Many of the nine girls named Katharine after her were there. My daughter is K8.
When my marriage ended, I dreaded telling her, fearful she would be disappointed in me. Again she wanted to provide for me.
Aunt Kate began to slow down after Uncle Garland passed away. Soon she gave up leading Stretch-&-Tone for sister residents and her church activities. Failing health and memory took her to assisted living where she lived in a room with familiar furniture and a hospital bed.
I took her to see my new home, bought with her blessing. I dreaded telling her son and the infirmary team that she’d fallen on the stoop and skinned up her shin badly. Luckily nothing was broken. When I told her son about it, he said she was always klutzy, another little known fact.
Faithfully I visited her, noticing each time how much thinner and frailer she was, how little she asked and how much I loved her. One visit was unforgettable. Aunt Kate was sitting in her favorite chair with her half eaten lunch on the tray before her. When I asked about her meal, she said “I’m waiting for the train to come. It slows down so I can pass my tray though the window to them and the poor people on board will have something to eat.” She didn’t mind if I waited with her until the train came.
After I left, I had to pull the car over and park while I wept with a broken heart. My precious fairy godmother Aunt Kate, whom I loved dearly, was gone. The woman who really, really loved me had been stolen by dementia.
What's Going On Isn't What You Think Is Going On
I was feeling overwhelmed. My book Smart Women Make Their Own Rules was in its final stages of printing, plans were underway for signings and there wasn’t enough of me to go around. How was I going to manage all that and a relationship too?
“I’m in his sights, I know it. I just don’t know what I want to do.” I told Smith. “This is going faster than I thought.”
“So why are you resisting what’s happening? He’s offering you what you want. What’s going on?”Smith asked.
When feeling out of control, I resort to getting order by making order out of chaos. An energy zapping messy office bookcase was the target. At completion many books were stacked up to go to Goodwill, notebooks were tossed and old journals were set aside for my old journal ritual.
Journaling is a marvelous tool. I started the practice when my marriage was falling apart, life was too painful and I was at my wit’s end. As life changes, journal pages fill and they rest on a shelf until ritual time. The ritual is quite simple: I burn each page, scattering the ashes in a special place in my garden.
In the cover of darkness, I sat in my garden and watched flames consume each page. One page was different with columns on it vs. the paragraphs that cleared my head. “Hmm, I’d better set this one aside and read it later. It looks too different.” I thought.
In the light of my cozy room I read the set-aside page. It was titled My Man – 2004. In two columns were lwords - the values and traits I wanted in my man. As I read it, I was awed. I couldn’t believe it! I wrote it in ’04 and here I am in 2011- reading each word that described Admiral.
“So why am I hesitating?” I ask myself. “Smokie, you don’t feel like you deserve this guy. Look at your self esteem. You asked for this man and here he is. You are so worthy of this guy. Get over yourself. “
New Friends among Forever Friends
A few days later Admiral and I attended a fund raiser for Children Inc. to see Seldom Scene, whose banjo player was a college friend. People that had blown me off chatted easily with me – because I was Admiral’s date. “I remember the time you landed your helicopter on my dock! It was most exciting.” one snooty gal exclaimed. When I told Admiral how suddenly I was okay to talk to, he laughed and said “Sounds like ‘em.”
We flew to Raleigh to celebrate the birthday of one of his first grade friends. I love private flying – no rude TSA! Classmates howled as they recalled Admiral’s antics. There’s a lot to be said for one who has friends from elementary school.
The next day we returned to Richmond in time for another of Admiral’s friend’s birthday party who goes to my church. Richmond’s small world makes life easy often. More stories came out about midnight takeoffs to the Bahamas from Florida, how he helped people sleep because he fixed their boat air conditioning on sultry hot nights, and rendezvous in exotic places on his magnificent yachts. Always the gentleman, he stood by quietly and smiling as people told stories on him with delight.
The Smart Woman’s tradition of going to the Urbanna Oyster Festival with friends was coming up. “Do I invite Admiral? What the hey, let’s do it." I thought. Not only did he gladly accept my invitation, he used connections to arrange a splendid parking place inside the tiny town where parking miles from the action is the procedure. One more time he shows he’s my kind of guy.
Wandering through shops, looking at the sites and eating oysters is the activity. As we chatted and strolled through an art show, he asked me what I was looking for on match. “My last first date.” I replied. Grinning widely, he said “Me, too. “
We flew to Raleigh to celebrate the birthday of one of his first grade friends. I love private flying – no rude TSA! Classmates howled as they recalled Admiral’s antics. There’s a lot to be said for one who has friends from elementary school.
The next day we returned to Richmond in time for another of Admiral’s friend’s birthday party who goes to my church. Richmond’s small world makes life easy often. More stories came out about midnight takeoffs to the Bahamas from Florida, how he helped people sleep because he fixed their boat air conditioning on sultry hot nights, and rendezvous in exotic places on his magnificent yachts. Always the gentleman, he stood by quietly and smiling as people told stories on him with delight.
The Smart Woman’s tradition of going to the Urbanna Oyster Festival with friends was coming up. “Do I invite Admiral? What the hey, let’s do it." I thought. Not only did he gladly accept my invitation, he used connections to arrange a splendid parking place inside the tiny town where parking miles from the action is the procedure. One more time he shows he’s my kind of guy.
Wandering through shops, looking at the sites and eating oysters is the activity. As we chatted and strolled through an art show, he asked me what I was looking for on match. “My last first date.” I replied. Grinning widely, he said “Me, too. “
When is 'no big deal' a big deal?
Weeks later over dinner Smith said "Sounds like you're softening on Boats. You're really enjoying his company now." "Yes, I am. He's so kind and dear. He's really a dear man. Our conversations are so open and honest and from the heart. No holds barred. I call him Admiral because he's all about boats. And we agree politically." I said. "But I'm still not sure."
During another boat outing Admiral said “There’s something I have to tell you. It’s no big deal but you need to know.” My stomach clinched and my mind raced with all kinds of ideas about what dreaded thing he’d say. Finally I said to my gremlin Bitch, “Silly girl, be quiet and listen.”
Admiral continued “Some time ago I had a cancer diagnosis. I went to the best surgeon and he told me they got it all. Seems it’s back now and I’m looking at radiation. It’s no big deal.”
“Oh my! I’m so sorry to hear that. What can I do for you? How can I help you?” I asked. Selfishly I was relieved to know my mental gymnastics were just that.
“I have a doctor’s appointment next week. I’ll probably have treatments. I hate that it means I may have to be here in cold weather. I really don’t like cold weather.” Admiral said matter of factly.
“No one’s going to the doctor with him and that’s not right. This is big and I can’t let him go alone. I’ll ask him if he wants me to go. I don’t want to push in where I’m not wanted, tho” I told Kathleen, my mentor in all things single.
Several days later I was sitting across the desk from Dr. Roundface with Admiral with a list of questions to ask in my Mother mode. Dr. Roundface covered all points and Admiral said “When do I start? I want to leave for warm weather soon and treatments are keeping me here too long.”
When I and friends need reinforcement, I email a prayer request to girlfriends to pray for the person and the situation. Such a note promptly went out requesting prayers for my precious Admiral. Kathleen’s email came back “Precious. Hmm. Sounds serious.”
During another boat outing Admiral said “There’s something I have to tell you. It’s no big deal but you need to know.” My stomach clinched and my mind raced with all kinds of ideas about what dreaded thing he’d say. Finally I said to my gremlin Bitch, “Silly girl, be quiet and listen.”
Admiral continued “Some time ago I had a cancer diagnosis. I went to the best surgeon and he told me they got it all. Seems it’s back now and I’m looking at radiation. It’s no big deal.”
“Oh my! I’m so sorry to hear that. What can I do for you? How can I help you?” I asked. Selfishly I was relieved to know my mental gymnastics were just that.
“I have a doctor’s appointment next week. I’ll probably have treatments. I hate that it means I may have to be here in cold weather. I really don’t like cold weather.” Admiral said matter of factly.
“No one’s going to the doctor with him and that’s not right. This is big and I can’t let him go alone. I’ll ask him if he wants me to go. I don’t want to push in where I’m not wanted, tho” I told Kathleen, my mentor in all things single.
Several days later I was sitting across the desk from Dr. Roundface with Admiral with a list of questions to ask in my Mother mode. Dr. Roundface covered all points and Admiral said “When do I start? I want to leave for warm weather soon and treatments are keeping me here too long.”
When I and friends need reinforcement, I email a prayer request to girlfriends to pray for the person and the situation. Such a note promptly went out requesting prayers for my precious Admiral. Kathleen’s email came back “Precious. Hmm. Sounds serious.”
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