REENIE'S REACH
by irene bean

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SOME OF MY FAVORITE BLOGS I'VE POSTED


2008
A Solid Foundation

Cheers

Sold!

Not Trying to be Corny

2007
This Little Light of Mine

We Were Once Young

Veni, Vedi, Vinca

U Tube Has a New Star

Packing a 3-Iron

Getting Personal

Welcome Again

Well... Come on in

Christmas Shopping

There's no Substitute

2006
Dressed for Success

Cancun Can-Can

Holy Guacamole

Life can be Crazy

The New Dog

Hurricane Reenie

He Delivers

No Spilt Milk

Naked Fingers

Blind

Have Ya Heard the One About?

The Great Caper

Push

Barney's P***S

My New Security System

Back to the Future and Back Again

(Primarily written for those I spent time with in Northport, LI NY, which is my home of childhood memories.)

I'm on the mountain and for the first time I'm reluctant to return to Nashville. I miss my art. The quiet. The utter solitude. I'm home.

Mind you, I like Nashville and my attic hideaway that's starker than a Monk's social calendar... it's just that my fabulous place in Nashville isn't exactly a sought after second home. There have been times I've savored the sounds of the city. Because of my location, most of the city sounds I hear are hospital related - both ambulance sirens and rumbling whirs of rescue helicopters have made the house shudder. I guess because I have a serious illness, these have become pleasing and connecting and symbiotic.

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Interestingly, even with the additional 2,000 feet here on the mountain, I haven't used supplemental oxygen. There are too many variables for me to explain here, but rest assured, me happy. (Hints: Pulmonary Rehab, Clinical Trials, Positive attitude.)

******************

My time in Nashville is winding down. My lease is up mid-May but I'll vacate at the 1st in order to attend my youngest's graduation from W&L School of Law. This occasion is going to be more than my son's graduation... it's a family reunion that'll include all three of my amazing children and my amazing father, Buddy Lewisy.

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But back to Nashville: I suspect I'll most miss my sessions with my health psychologist who specializes in people like me with a serious illness. His research focuses on gratitude, which is also my chosen focus. Every week I lug in my journals. He likes that. He closes his eyes and I read. He thinks I'm brilliant. I'm not. I just have courage. I'm posting here, aren't I?

He takes my words, my thoughts, and we discuss. Healing magically appears. I also discuss whatever I'm currently reading, which recently included Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. If you haven't read this, dash now and get it!

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I started writing my third book last night, and that quite frankly, is why I'm here tonight. My first novel (The Night the Moon Cried) had no takers. It was dark & dreary and perfectly wonderful - yet, no takers. My second novel (Coyote Corner) is not finished, but it's hysterical. I still laugh when I read it, so it must be funny, right? My working title for this third novel is Half Past a Freckle.

Many of you will smile when you read that. Others will probably, once again, be twirling a finger at the side of their head... something I clearly relish.

I write and then I write some more. I have a story to tell - it's time. It's Half Past a Freckle.

As always, thanks for listening.


P.S. Below is a photo Ginny Parker recently posted on FB, I think it's spendid. I post it for you and for my dear friend Bex who lives in Massachusetts and is married to a marvelous Lobsterman.


 photo LobsterBoats_zps63ff4bcd.jpg

Lobster Boats in Northport Harbor


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