Love Story

I traveled to Atlanta last week. I can't believe I am 50 years old and this is the first time I ever drove in a car for a 4 hour trip alone. I loved it!! Don't get me wrong. My husband is a good traveling companion and I like going on trips with friends, but this time the car was all mine, including the CD player.

The day before I had to leave I went to the public library and checked out a book on CD. Since I finished school I almost hate picking up a book and reading it. My eyes don't hold up well and listening is very relaxing. Anyway, I checked out a copy of "The Olive Farm," not knowing anything about the author or if I would really want to read/listen to a story subtitled "a love story." Love stories, detective novels, and science fiction just don't grab my attention. Hand me a book on different cultures, history, or a biography and I'll devour it. One thing that seems to be different about me in respect to others who love books - I can't remember an author's name to save my soul. If someone asked me who my favorite author is, I'd have to just throw out something like, Mark Twain. Who can forget him? It can be downright embarrassing to have such a problem remembering names, but the only explanation I can come up with is that I must not care much about who sat down to write. I just care about what they write.

Back to "The Olive Farm." The book is very enjoyable and the love story seems to be dual in that the main character is not only in love with her male companion, she is also in love with the farm and the life being created on the farm. Though I have never been interested in horticulture, thinking about growing those little olives and then pressing them in to oil is starting to get to me. I want an olive farm in the south of France. I want to eat bread, cheese, olives, and drink wine twice a day. I want to look out over the Mediterranean Sea from an old villa that is barely standing. And most of all, I'd like to live somewhere with enough privacy to swim alone naked in the pool. What freedom. But, as the saying goes, freedom comes with a price. The couple must take huge chances to make a purchase they cannot afford. They choose not to listen to others who say the whole thing is a mistake. They go with their gut feelings.

I'm on disc 10. It is the final disc of the book and I'm not sure how it will end. Will they lose everything? It seems to be heading that way. No matter, they lived their dream and their love story for a time.

Lovey

My First Time

Its my first time to ever go on line and post anything. On daily basis as part of my work at a publishing company I encourage others to blog and be open about introducing themselves to the www. Well, for some reason it isn't as simple as it sounds. Even saying hello is a little intimidating for me.

I guess I'll just go with it and begin. Lovey is my grandmother name. I didn't want to be Nana, or Grand-ma, or MeMe. No offense to all of the wonderful ladies who are known to their grandchildren by those names, but when the movie The YaYa Sisterhood came out, I decided that as I got older it might be fun to be a little different once in a while. I've been a conformist all my life and it really gets tiresome trying to do what is acceptable all of the time. Anyway, my name came to be when I was playing golf with my husband and friends (one of the 5 times I haved played in my life) and one yelled "Tee Off Lovey," She was kidding me about being like the rich lady on old TV show Gilligian's Island. Anyway, I kind of liked it and decided that was what I was going with when I became a grandmother.

A little more info... I turned 50 this year, graduated from college, got a new position at work, and have nearly felt like collapsing. I gained weight during the last 3 years as I came home from work every night to sit back down to yet another computer and study. Continuing to sit around at home is very appealing now so I am having to force myself to try to do a little exercise and not eat as much. I have a lot of dreams and ideas. However, the confidence level is low so I thought writing down my feelings would be a way to work through what is important to me and where I might discover my passions. Yes, I know everyone is doing that. Again, I'm a conformist and probably just moving with the pack.

Why am I writing this for the public to see instead of just keeping it to myself? Well, last night I was watching the TV program "How to Look Good Naked." I know that these type of reality shows are fairly staged, but the idea of getting on TV in nothing but panties and bra with the normal lumps, bumps, and inadequacies looks so freeing, I decided today that by writing about my lumps, bumps, and inadequacies I might be freed of some of my fears. If you can identify, keep reading. I'll be back.

Lovey