11.12.08
When Life Stinks….
I write.
I write about joy, the silly and the occasionally serious. It makes people smile. We all can use a smile.
(yeah, I’m a sap.) here’s the joy letters link. go for a giggle. xxkelly
see me at www.whenlifestinks.com
09.08.08
She Loved This Place
I went for a walk in the woods…
The forest is still. It’s peaceful. It welcomes me. Walking through the woods, no iPod in my ears, I listen to the sounds of the trees, and whatever is skittering through them. On past walks, I’ve seen deer, turkey, and the largest raccoon on the planet. I’m still not sure it was a raccoon; it was as big as a man, but he was on all fours in a raccoon suit.
Today I take the road toward the dam and the lake. I pass mommies with little ones in strollers and dogs on leashes. I see daddies with little boys fishing. I overhear bits of conversations. “This is my favorite rock.” “I can do it. One step at a time. One… two….” “Thanks, sweetie.”
The lake is waveless. A few fishing boats are out, but the faint breeze is not enough to beckon the sailboats. The water is sparkling and murmurs contentment. At the end of a tiny piece of land that protrudes into the water, I park myself on a bench.
It’s a gorgeous day. I could sit here for hours doing nothing more but contemplating the world and my place in it. In the cement under my feet, I notice a bronze plaque:
Kathryn ‘Katie’ Rubendall
1949 – 2002
She Loved This Place
She loved this place. I didn’t know Katie, but I know she died young and I know she had good taste. I love this place too. It feels right that I should be sitting on Katie’s bench, lost in my thoughts. I silently thank her loved ones for placing this bench in her memory.
I watch a little boat bobbing and floating along. I need time to float. Life gets hectic and frenzied. Sometimes the best thing to do is to allow ourselves time to float; to relax, to enjoy, and to reflect on what really matters. When we’re floating, we can soak it all in with a deep sigh of satisfaction and gratitude. When we’re floating, we can think about what we really want.
Floating has its purpose, but there is a need for speed as well. Sometimes we have to go full barrel, blazing ahead with a whoop and a rush of adrenaline. Taking chances, exploring, reveling in the sensations. Feeling giddy, feeling free, feeling the moment. That happens when we take the next step toward our dreams.
We can’t float forever and we can’t race all the time. The pace of life needs balance. Serene moments coupled with joyful thrills. If all we did was float, we would never experience the extraordinary high of new accomplishments.
Laughter erupts from the family fishing on the shore. Ducks are quacking. A few cars rumble slowly over the bridge. I hear them, but I want to linger a little longer in my meditation. The lake is still and peaceful. I feel welcome.
I know that even if I sit here for hours I will never understand the complexities of the universe and my place in it. But it is good for my soul to sit on Katie’s bench and enjoy the beautiful day, and beautiful life.
When I’m gone, there will be no specific place for my bronze plaque. I love a lot of places. I love a lot of people. I love this life. I don’t want to die young. When it comes my time to leave this earth, I hope that all of those whom I love can touch their hearts and know that it reads She Loved This Place.
Kelly can be reached at kel_epperson@yahoo.com and PO Box 2324, Loves Park, IL 61131. Kelly’s book, When Life Stinks, It’s Time to Wash the Gym Clothes, is available at Barnes & Noble, Borders, and www.whenlifestinks.com. For speaking engagements, please visit www.kellyepperson.com.
First Issue of the Joy enews – Sept 5, 2008
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With the new format, I’m calling this Issue #1. We’ll see what evolves — and I love the cool things that you share with me, so bring it on.
*Almost 10,000 miles in 6 months! I have not tired of people’s questions and double-takes. This car makes people SMILE! Just by driving around, we’re spreading the happy. How cool is that!
When Life Stinks, Find Your Joy | Kelly Epperson | PO Box 2324 | Loves Park | IL | 61131
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04.10.08
I made out with Garrison Keillor
Let me tell you the story. I drove my smart car (she likes to be called Josephine) to Dayton, Ohio for the Erma Bombeck Humor Writers Workshop. Josephine brought smiles all across Illinois, Indiana and Ohio. She has a way with that.
Arriving at the hotel, I dashed in to get my room key before unloading, only to learn that the welcome dinner had started without me. Bewildered, I said, “It’s only twenty after five.” The conference organizer gal glowered at me like I was a dumb blonde (I now feel your pain, ladies). “It’s 6:20! They’re done with the salads. You better get in there!”
What else to do at a humor writing conference than laugh? There was a time zone change somewhere along my journey, but I was oblivious. Call me a dumb brunette. The front desk folks were enamored with Josephine. They let me keep her parked out front, so I could join the dinner already in progress.
I entered the ballroom packed with nearly 400 people. Scanning the crowded room for a table with an empty seat, I literally bumped into a guy with “VIP” on his nametag. I assumed he was part of the conference and asked if there were any seats left. He pointed me to his table right in front of the stage.
He in fact was a VIP guest, not a conference helper. I ended up with the folks from the Dayton Daily News. They were very gracious about letting me crash their table. Immediately a waiter was at my elbow, with two bottles. “Red or white?” I breathed a sigh of relief and knew the evening was going to be fine.
The entertainment portion of the night began and I had a front row seat. Good things come to those who are late. Garrison Keillor sounds the same in person as on radio, and he was as wonderful as expected. (When you’re Garrison Keillor, folks have high expectations.) One tidbit of advice I gobbled up from the man: When your editor calls, never answer the phone. Always let them go to voicemail.
After the program, GK hung around for book signing. I bought two books and joined the queue for an autograph. His rumpled blue suit and red tennis shoes matched his comfortable rapport with each person he greeted. I didn’t mind the long line; I knew when it was my turn, he’d give me the same attention.
As I waited, I decided the books I bought would make great gifts for two friends who are big GK fans. When it was my moment, I handed my camera over and had someone snap a photo. “Right here,” I pointed to my cheek. (I’d had a couple glasses of red.) GK obliged and pecked my cheek. He signed the books for my diva gal pals. I decided I wanted a signature for myself. Instead of a scrap of paper, I had him sign my own little podunk book to me. (I always carry several copies of When Life Stinks, It’s Time to Wash the Gym Clothes, but I usually am the one signing them.)
As I’m sure they say in Lake Wobegon, all’s well that ends well. The evening may have started with me being flustered, but it ended on the right note. I got the best seats in the house; I got gifts for friends who will treasure these books; and I got a kiss. So in fact, I made out with Garrison Keillor. I made out just fine.
