Blog

Not Fair

Fri, 05 Mar 2010 06:03:40 GMT

March 5th, 2010

My phone started wringing in the early hours this morning.   The first time I assumed it might be a friend out too late who wanted to leave me a funny message of some sort.   But then the calls kept coming, I knew something was wrong.   I was right. I just didn't expect this.

One of my best friends died in her sleep last night. She was 47.   It's not fair. Nothing was fair in my book about Darcy's life, and now her death has left me feeling the same way. I'm still in shock. I don't really believe it yet.

Darcy Pohland was a co-worker of mine at WCCO-TV (you'll likely be able to learn a lot about Darcy today there as stories and comments are posted.)   She had been there since she graduated college as an intern.   That's when she had a horrible accident that left her paralyzed and in a wheelchair.   Fortunately, the powers that be at the station back then had the foresight to see what a force of nature she was and opted to hire her on.   She's been breaking stories and making people laugh on air ever since.

She was also one of the people who made me feel at home when I took a job there. And our friendship grew from that day.    I could spend all day sharing the lessons she taught me over the years since then, but I have some things I need to take care of now.    The bottom line is, she is perhaps the most impressive person I have ever known.   On a daily basis I took her words to heart to help me through tough days, and her example of how to live each day as a bar to strive for.

I am posting a link to a blog I wrote awhile back at WCCO, and will try to find another that describes her better than I can today.   Over the last week we've been trying to dial in plans for her to come visit my new home in California with a couple of other friends.   Now I need to dial in plans to get back to Minneapolis for her service and to be with those who are feeling the pain and sense of loss I am today.

I write this simply in the hopes that whatever tough times you may be going through right now, that you might think of a woman who managed to take one more than most of us ever with with a smile and a spirit that said "get over it and get on with it".     And imagine the kind of attitude it took for her to trust her pals to put her on the back of a boat in an inner-tube on Lake Minnetonka with the energy and enthusiasm only Darcy could bring.
Geranimo!   God Darcy-girl, I'm going to miss you.

Try Try Again

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 12:45:33 GMT

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

Sometimes when you take on a big project, you don't always succeed in seeing it to the finish. It's kind of how I felt when I left Iowa to take a job in Minneapolis without getting legislation passed there to crack down on Puppy Mills. I started a foundation with a friend and attorney there where we had a tip line people could call with information on suspected mills. We would pay an investigator to go out and look into it. But when I left Iowa, the foundation, and my efforts in that state kind of went by the wayside.

But today I got some pretty exciting news. The good folks of Iowa overwhelmingly passed an amendment to a measure that would increase inspections of animal breeding operations in order to cut down on abuses.
My fellow animal-lovers continued their efforts and finally made some headway. Sometimes when you take on a big project, you don't always get to see it to the finish. But it's sure nice to know when it does happen.

If You Only Knew

Wed, 24 Feb 2010 12:15:27 GMT

Wednesday, February 22nd, 2010

I like to think if people really knew what their passion for trendy pets leads to, they'd head to the local shelter instead of the local paper or their computers to find their dogs.

Last week the Hollywood City Council adopted an ordinance to prohibit the sale of dogs in pet stores. It's a move that comes with controversy, but unfortunately, restrictions like this can be needed in some communities to keep pet retailers honest. History has shown too many have chosen to get their supply of dogs from "breeders" who run less-than-ethical operations.

How do I know this? I lived in one of the two top states for Puppy Mills. I've been along on raids of facilities that made their money by raising dogs in horrid conditions, then shipped them to pet stores in California and New York where there was a high demand for certain breeds. While many communities have cracked down on the sale of mill dogs in stores, the on-line purchase of animals has made it too easy for questionable breeders to stay in business. And since dog breeders are regulated through the USDA, there isn't the manpower to inspect breeders on a regular basis. That is why it's up to us as dog-owners and lovers to be responsible when looking for a new pet.

I could go on and on, but instead I will post an article I wrote for the Telegram Tribune in Des Moines, Iowa, which was also printed in Dog and Kennel Magazine back in 1999. It was written after I lost a mill dog I had adopted. She was a beautiful German Shepard who had been rescued from a mill raid I covered for the station I worked for in Iowa. I hope it may inspire some to ask some questions when looking for a new dog. And maybe to consider adopting from a rescue organization.

By the way, my second dog was also a rescue, and gave me more than a decade of loyal companionship. I have posted blogs about Madelyn ("Maddie #2) below the article.

MADDIE - a puppy-mill dog

A broken heart has prompted me to write this in hope that it may prevent others from a similar fate. Maddie was one of 150 dogs seized from a puppy mill in Iowa. She was pregnant at the time and taken in by the staff at the South Duff Small Animal Clinic in Ames, Iowa, to be nursed and nurtured until her puppies were born. But weeks later, the puppies were adopted and Maddie was still there. She was very thin, her fur dull and mangy, one ear looked as if a chunk had been bitten off, and she was obviously a recent mother. But Donna Rizzo, DVM, owner of the clinic, had faith that this dog would be a wonderful companion once she had decent care and treatment. And when I saw her play with two of her puppies still waiting to be picked up, I decided to give it a shot.

Maddie turned out to be quite a project.

She was sick the whole way home in the car. Once she was released in the back yard, there was no getting near her. She'd hide in a corner and look at me with those wild eyes. If I approached her, she'd run to another corner. After hours of this, exhausted, she finally laid down, let me come pet her, pick her up and bring her inside. She spent the first few days huddled in the corner of a cage in my bedroom, even though the cage was wide open and she was free to roam and check out her new home. Rizzo said Maddie likely had lived her entire five years in a cage and that was probably the only thing familiar to her.

And that was the way it was for days. This dog never wagged her tail, never barked, never showed any enthusiasm. She wasn't housebroken, knew no tricks and didn't show any interest in the dozens of toys I had bought for her.

I believed I had made a horrible mistake. She was scared of grass, and I had to walk out on it first to show her it was OK. She didn't kow how to handle the three steps off my deck to the back yard and tumbled down them. Any sudden movement made her cower and run. She may have been 5 years old, but it seemed as if she was getting her first taste of freedom. And I was beginning to feel like a prisoner trying to take care of her.

At some point, Maddie realized I loved her and would not hurt her and she became my dog. She followed me from room to room and would settle there. She'd lay by my feet as I brushed my teeth in the morning, then follow me out as I got the morning paper, and then lay with me as I read it. She followed me to the kitchen to make coffee, to the bedroom to get ready for work and to the gate as I headed out. When I came home, she was there waiting and ready to chase her tail and put on a welcome-home show when I opened the gate.

Maddie was turning into the dog I always wanted.

She was getting the chance to be a playful puppy, and for the first time since I moved to Iowa, I felt like I had a family here and a home, because of Maddie.

Unfortunately, she never had the chance for a long healthy life. Years of malnutrition, neglect and having puppies did a number on Maddie's insides. Rizzo and I hoped a special diet and medication would help Maddie's body heal from the extensive parasite damage. And while there were weeks when it appeared as if that would work, Maddie never developed much of an appetite. In the final three weeks I had her, she had virtually none. She continued to lose weight, and on the day before Christmas Eve I decided I had to put her through the trauma of more tests. Those tests confirmed Maddie was very sick, and Rizzo's exam convinced her that Maddie was not very comfortable.

I think now the reason Maddie would not let me out of her sight in the final days is that she knew she was near death and didn't want to die alone. We did not let that happen.

The long holiday weekend was already under way, but Rizzo met me at the clinic after hours, on her own time, allowing me to be there with her when she put Maddie down. She gave me some time alone with my dog and I just petted Maddie and tried to make her as comfortable as possible. When I was ready, Rizzo came in and gave Maddie a shot. Maddie just looked at me, licked away my tears as if to say it was OK and peacefully laid her head down. I knew she was no longer in pain, but my heart was breaking, I really believe Maddie wanted so badly to live, but she never had a chance.

When Rizzo confirmed Maddie was gone, she told me how this animal had been through too much in her first five years of life to fight all the illnesses she suffered. After I inquired, she gave me more details of how Maddie must have lived as a puppy-mill dog. She likely had two litters a year, which means she had about 100 puppies in her short life - all taken from her too soon. She likely was fed garbage, or at least what most of us would never consider feeding a domestic animal. And she probably lived outside and certainly never had play time.

As I left Rizzo's office, I asked her how many others like Maddie are still out there and she said thousands. She said the only way to stop it is to educate people that when they buy puppies from pet shops in malls and such, they likely are buying puppies born from an animal like Maddie. As long as there is a demand for cute, little, cuddly puppies - and no questions asked about there they came from - puppy mill operators will continue to supply them. And I find it hard to believe most people would contribute to such a tragic scenario if they knew the damage they were doing.

I appreciate you taking the time to read Maddie's story and hope it inspires you to appreciate the pet you have and protect those out there without the luxury of a loving home.

http://jeanettetrompeter.com/Blog/MissingMadelyn.aspx

http://jeanettetrompeter.com/Blog/SweetCondolences.aspx

http://jeanettetrompeter.com/Blog/SentimentalJourney.aspx

Pismo Beach Therapy

Thu, 18 Feb 2010 08:35:23 GMT

Wednesday, February 17th, 2010

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. If that's true, and I was to share all the images I carry with me from this past Saturday afternoon, this is going to be one long blog.

I'll try to widdle it down.

I had spent much of early Saturday afternoon with my landlords trying to get the T.V. system working in my rental. I've come to know the Dish TV operators by first name over the last couple of weeks.   Anyway, we got it done, but I was kind of wound-tight by then, and needed to burn some energy and soak up at least the last few hours of a beautiful 80-degree day along the coast.

I had forgotten it was the Saturday of a three-day holiday weekend when I took off on my bike toward Pismo Beach.   As I pedaled into downtown Pismo I was quickly reminded.   And I remembered how crazy that place can get on three-day-weekends. Especially with the sunshine and temperatures of this past weekend.

Now you can deny it if you want, but as I remember it, lot of locals tend to steer clear of Pismo on holiday weekends. Too many tourists.  We get spoiled here on the central coast having the miles of sandy beach pretty much to ourselves Monday through Friday. I was kind of feeling that way myself as I tried to work my way through large crowds, loud cars, a few too many people too busy to pay attention to where they were going.    I was beginning to think I made a mistake.   Then I locked the bike up and strolled out onto the beach.

It was kind of loud there too. But it wasn't the boom boom boom of car stereos.   It was the squeals of delight from people all over the beach.    I smiled at the first group of kids digging their way to complete sand coverage of each other.   I can only imagine the sand they took home with them in their bathing suits. With each and every scenario I passed, I smiled again. In fact, I didn't stop smiling the whole time I was on the beach.

My heart smiled at the sight of 6 girls playing out in the waves. They ranged in age from about 6 to 12 or so.  They hadn't reached the age of worrying what they were doing and who was watching them. They were marching one after another up and down line of waves hitting them waste high.   The silhouette of them with the backdrop of the sinking sun, and their squeals each time a wave broke their stride was priceless.  At some point, the two youngest ran up the beach full speed to share their adventures with mom and dad while the four older girls joined hands and faced the waves head-on. They'd stroll with confidence right toward the coming force of nature, as if their show of unity might tame it's power.   They'd then get tossed off their feet when it hit and jump up squealing again as they struggled to get their footing. They were having an absolute blast and so was I watching them.

There were couples cuddling and posing for Valentine's pictures, a teenager boy sneaking up on his girl and sweeping her up into a twirl through the air that looked like a Hallmark card, and a family finishing up the sand-castle they must have been working on all day long.   I watched them stand with pride while someone took a snapshot to document this red-letter day on the beach, and then just head toward the parking lot.

I would have been happy with the natural beauty of the beach alone. But to see all these people enjoying it with the enthusiasm that often only comes when you've driven a few hours to get there, made it all the better.   As I headed off the beach and back to my bike, I saw the families on hotel balconies yelling down to their friends relatives, and others firing up the grills on condos rented for the weekend. They had all scored a sweet spot for a weekend get-away to the beach, and you could tell they were lovin' it. I was riding the wave of their excitement.

I left feeling so incredibly grateful...for living where I do, and seeing it through their eyes on this particular Saturday.

So, though you may prefer your walks down the beach on less-crowded days when you're more likely to run into a neighbor than a visitor to our area, I encourage you to brave the crowds of a sunny weekend in Pismo too.
It guarantee you'll appreciate those mid-week walks even more, and maybe take it all less for granted.

Dang, there really is no place like home on the Central Coast.

Soak it up my friends. (And for those who live out of the area, come pay a visit!)

JT

Now I Know

Tue, 16 Feb 2010 08:18:54 GMT

February 15, 2010

About a month. Now I know. If you read my blog a month ago I was wondering as I entered back into the work-a-day-world how long it would take for me to lose the balance I had seemed to find during my soul searching of the previous few months. I lost my balance immediately as far as I tried to get a footing in a new job, with new co-workers, new duties, and new ways of doing just about everything.   But I'm talking about a different kind of balance.   The kind that keeps you sane.

I knew it wouldn't be easy. Starting anything new has it's challenges.   But I re-grouped and re-loaded every morning as I took my coffee down to "my bench" by the beach and soaked in the serenity to be found there. I am not really a morning person, but as soon as I awoke and realized where I was...home in California, near the beach, I jumped out of bed, put some sweats on and decided to complete my waking up ritual with Mother Nature.

It seemed every day I was overwhelmed with the beauty before me. The seagulls that took a pass by me seemed to be doing so just to say Good Morning.   The seals riding the rhythm of the waves on their backs seemed to be showing off a little and though I can't see their eyes from the bench, I swear they were looking right at me.  Sometimes I seriously wanted to cry I felt so grateful.   And I wondered how long it would take for this newness, this appreciation and euphoria that usually comes to one early in a love affair, to pass.    Sadly, I found out last week.

My daily duties got the best of me and for the first time since I moved here, I didn't make it down to the bench, or the beach or anywhere near the beauty just down street for my morning coffee.   I made it as far as the computer, or the couch as I took a phone call instead.   I felt like "life" got a hold of me before I got a hold of myself. And I paid the price.   By mid-week, my workdays were growing longer and my temper growing shorter.   By Friday, the only thing I was feeling thankful for was that the week was drawing to a close.

But before it did, I managed to salvage a little sanity out of it.  I decided the rest of the world could wait for me until I took my coffee and a few minutes to myself down by the beach.   It was amazing the difference it made.
I sat there and at first all I saw was the waves. Then I noticed the birds floating by. And there were the seals. They weren't riding the waves today, but bobbing up and down near a big rock they sometimes use as a sunbathing deck.    As I watched them I wondered how in the heck, with the tide where it was, they thought they could make up there.   Silly me. They were simply waiting for the right wave and upsy daisy, heave ho, up they went. With that initial surge, they managed to get most of their pudgy bodies un there, then wiggled the rest of themselves the rest of the way. I could almost hear them grunting. I imagine that's how I must look trying to get back on the inner-tube behind the boat when I fall off.

Within a matter of minutes I was totally absorbed in their little show, and was smiling on the outside and within. When I saw the dolphins leap and dive through the swells to my left, I couldn't believe it, and wondered this whole little show wasn't staged just for me as a lesson to never skip out on this part of my day again.

A month. That's how long it took for me to lose my balance a bit. 10 minutes. That's all it took to get it back.

I can't help wondering how differently my days would have gone had I not skipped that morning ritual last week, and how differently all of us might act if we all did something like that every day.

So here's to carving out a little quiet for ourselves every single day.    Cheers, my friends.

JT

Small World

Fri, 12 Feb 2010 08:33:55 GMT

Thursday, February 11th, 2010

So I'm kind of fired up about the Olympics starting tomorrow. Especially because I work for an NBC affiliate now, so I can kind of get paid to watch them. I'm looking forward to the opening ceremonies tomorrow night. And while I don't have any real local ties (well any ties really) to any of the athletes, I'm still excited I'm going to have some friends there for all the pomp and circumstance.

One of my oldest and bestest (yes, I know that's not a read word) friends is there covering the behind the scenes hoopla for KING-TV in Seattle. (I met him years ago when we worked together her at KSBY!) And I have a friend from St. Paul, Minnesota who is spending six weeks in Vancouver working the P.R. end of it and helping the media get their jobs done. So day before yesterday, I get a picture message on my phone. Talk about small world. This is my buddy Allen Schauffler from Seattle, and Kathy O'Connor from St. Paul.

The ran into each other totally by chance, made the connection, and sent a howdy to me. I haven't heard the story of how they figured out the mutual connection to me, but I love it. I'll be looking forward to hearing all their stories of their big adventure. And I imagine they're going to be sharing some stories with each other of their JT adventures. So glad they're both good trustworthy friends and tales told in Vancouver will stay in Vancouver/

Cheers my Friends, and Happy Friday!

Rediscovery

Sat, 06 Feb 2010 12:48:19 GMT

Friday, January 5, 2010

Phew, it's been a week. But it's been full of good.   Just a little busy.    I moved. Again.   I had been in temporary housing and made the move Monday to a less-short-term place.   I still don't know where I'll be living long-term, until I know if my house back in Minneapolis will sell.    But at least I can settle in a bit and that's nice.

I started a new segment here at KSBY which is going to be a blast to do. It's called "No Place Like Home" and it's a chance for me to rediscover all the things that brought me back to this beautiful region of the country.   My first one aired last night, and my colleagues and I agreed, we should have eaten before the 6pm news last night.   That's because as it was airing, our mouths were watering.   Thank goodness I had time for dinner last night, and Dave Hovde to rush me to the nearest restaurant serving Tri-tip sandwiches. (For my mid-west friends, do make the effort to sample this regional favorite if you ever get out this way.)

I'm also rediscovering the joys of small-town life, and home.   I have company in from Minneapolis this weekend and high on their desired agenda is a golf game. Or six.   But though they arrived safely last night, their luggage and golf clubs did not.   And even though the airline said they'd be here today by noon, they weren't.   Just when I thought I was going to see grown men cry, I see some old friends instead.   I make the introductions and when they ask what we're doing at the airport, and I explain, they take over.   Within 15 minutes, the boys had clubs, shoes, visors, gloves, and everything they needed to bide their time until the next plane, and hopefully their luggage arrives.     No deposit, no return deadline. Just old friends introducing me to a new friend who happened to know where they could get geared up quickly.

I sent the boys on their way grinning ear to ear, not only because they were going to get to golf, but because of the kindness they were offered at the airport, and the golf club they were sent to for help.    There are constant reminders there is no place like home.   And the rediscovery of all it offers sure is nice. Now, if I could just get those boys to care as much about getting some fresh clothes and toiletries as they do their golf game....

Have a great weekend friends!

JT

With a Little Help From my Friends

Wed, 27 Jan 2010 07:51:00 GMT

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Okay, I'm feeling better today. I'm starting to get over the Vikings painful loss over the weekend. It helps I guess that all my colleagues are loving bringing it up over and over...to the point it gets funny. And then I have these wonderful viewers who can't resist the jokes going around. Jim Eaton sent me one I couldn't resist passing on today. I'm doing so with love and respect for my friends back in Minne-SOH-tah: Part of my heart will always be there. You betcha.

----------------------------------------------------
Ole and Sven die in a snowmobile accident, drunker than skunks, and go to
Hell.

The Devil observes that they are really enjoying themselves. He says to
them 'Doesn't the heat and smoke bother you?

Ole replies, 'Vell, ya know, ve're from nordern Minnesooota, da land of
snow an ice, an ve're yust happy fer a chance ta varm up a little bit, ya
know.'

The devil decides that these two aren't miserable enough and turns up the
heat even more.

When he returns to the room of the two guys from Minnesota, the devil
finds them in light jackets and hats, grilling Walleye and drinking mead.

The devil is astonished and exclaims, 'Everyone down here is in total
misery, and you two seem to be enjoying yourselves and I want to know
why!'

Sven replies, 'Vell, ya know, ve don't git too much varm veather up dere
at da Falls, so ve've yust got ta haff a fish fry vhen da veather's dis
nice.'

The devil is absolutely furious. He can hardly see straight. Finally he
comes up with the answer.

The two guys love the heat because they have been cold all their lives.
The devil decides to turn all the heat off in Hell.

The next morning, the temperature is 60 below zero, icicles are hanging
everywhere, and the inhabitants of hell are shivering so bad that they
are unable to wail, moan or gnash their teeth.

The devil smiles and heads for the room with Ole and Sven. He gets there
and finds them back in their parkas, bomber hats, and mittens. They are
jumping up and down, cheering, yelling and screaming like mad men.

The devil is dumbfounded, 'I don't understand, when I turn up the heat
you're happy. Now its freezing cold and you're still happy. What is wrong
with you two?'

They both look at the devil in surprise and say, 'Vell, don't ya know, if
hell iss froze over, dat must mean da Vikings von da Super Bowl'

One of Those Days

Wed, 27 Jan 2010 07:57:13 GMT

Monday, January 25th, 2010

Sometimes the best of intentions can't overcome a day that just wasn't meant to go down as a one of your best.
I tried this morning.  But it wasn't easy when the first thing I thought of when I woke up was last night's Viking's game. It wasn't a dream.  Dammit. It was more of a nightmare...at least in the final seconds of the 4th quarter.
It's not that I am against the Saint's going to the Superbowl, it's just that I really wanted it to be the Vikings.

It seemed for awhile that the drama of the game...the fumbles, the late hits, the back and forth of the contest was just leading up to the legendary comeback story of Brett Favre.   He gets knocked down, but he gets up again...and again and again.   I'm sure even he would say it would have all been worth it if he had a couple of weeks off now to get ready for the fun of Miami.   But he no doubt if feeling the agony of defeat more than me or any other Vikings fan.

So, I tried to let it go and focus on the fact that I was able to just spend the night at my folks after a family gathering that lasted most of the day.   How fun that I wasn't getting up early to get on an airplane, but making a 40 minute drive home to get ready for work.

But I've just been a bit off today. All day. And when I walked out to the set a few minutes ago for our new 10pm newscast, it wasn't until after the whole thing ended, I realized why I felt so lost.   It seemed I constantly had my scripts out of order.   Every time I looked up to read a story, the words on the prompter were different than those about to come out of my mouth. Or those on the scripts I had just been looking at.   Turns out I had printed up the 11pm newscast scripts.   Oh well, at least I should be prepared for the 11!

So there is a silver lining.    I'm not quite ready to look for one in the case of what went down last night.   At least not until after the Superbowl has come and gone and this season gets a little more distant in the rear view mirror,.

Be Gone With You

Fri, 22 Jan 2010 05:09:07 GMT

Thursday, January 21, 2010

I'm over it. I'm seriously over it. No, I'm not talking about the weather.  Of course I'm eager for sunshine and 70's again.   But you have to remember, I've been living in places where that wouldn't happen for months yet. So I can wait a few weeks while these storms pass.

I'm want to be done with cold and cough I've been fighting since the night before my first day at KSBY.   I'm over it. My body is not.   It has been so challenging to get through the later newscasts. You know how it is when you are sick. You always feel worst in the mornings and evenings. Well my evenings are now spent on air, and on too many night's I've been fighting coughing attacks behind the scenes.   And sometimes right there in front of all of you.
My apologies.

I've given in and resorted to cough syrup, but I don't care if it says "Daytime Non-Drowsy" or not.   It always makes my head go numb to a certain degree.   So I'm left trying to choose the lesser of two evils: stepping out on the set scared I'm going to humiliate myself by launching into a coughing fit during some serious and important story, or stepping out on the set feeling a little less choked up, but a lot less focused.   It's a crap shoot really.

The good news is, I really do seem to be improving.  And in talking to others who've lived with this nagging cold over the holidays, 3-weeks to a month seems to be the standard courtship.   So if I play the odds, I should be getting back to normal sometime next week.

Let's hope.   Because I'm sick of being sick.   And I'm really okay with the rain sticking around through the weekend. It will give me a chance to curl up with some good videos and a good book, and kick this thing once and for all.   Then I can be full-speed ahead when the sunshine and 70's return!

Hang tough my friends. Hovde says the worst is over.    And by the way, I'm totally impressed with the efforts of the KSBY crew this week covering so many aspects of the storms as they've moved through.   It's clear I've signed on with a good team of people here.

Cheers!
JT

Weathering the Storm

Wed, 20 Jan 2010 04:59:54 GMT

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

Whoever said it never rains in California didn't spent much time here during El Nino years.   Much of the state is getting hit with a series of storms this week and the Central Coast is no exception.

When I got up this morning, there wasn't much time for coffee.   I could hear the winds blowing the patio furniture around on my roof, so up I went in my pajamas in the hopes of beating the rain to batten down the hatches. (I'm guessing my neighbors are getting used to me wandering outside in my jammies after my morning sunrise runs and this morning's antics.)

I felt like I was in a movie scene from either Twister or A Perfect Storm.   It was me versus Mother Nature to lay claim to the picnic table and lounge chairs.    I think I won.   We'll see when I get home tonight.   It was kind of exciting, actually. And I was fairly proud of myself when I managed to dash down the stairs to safety just as the sky opened up. Chalk one up for me in this battle.

My worthy opponent didn't take long to send me a reminder of who's really in charge. Just as I settled into my corner of the couch with a cup of coffee, I almost spilled all over myself when she smacked the neighborhood with a huge clap of thunder, and winds that had me wondering if the patio set wasn't the only thing vulnerable this morning.

Thankfully, my neighborhood withstood this onslaught, and within a couple of hours I was wandering out in sunshine to check the waves. The pacific still looked angry.   It was a weird combination...the violence of the whitecaps and the serenity of the sunshine, palm trees, and blue sky starting to take center stage for the time being.

In talking to Mr. Hovde, it sounds like our afternoon lull will be short-lived.   Hopefully it last long enough for some of the clean-up to be done in neighborhoods where Mother Nature threw a real temper tantrum.   And you may want to take this opportunity to get things secured before round three.   It may not rain often in California, but it certainly is this week.   And when storms come packing the punches they have been so far, it's not a bad idea to get your footing ahead of time so you can take 'em standing up.

.

Haiti Help

Thu, 14 Jan 2010 05:57:37 GMT

Wednesday, January 13th, 2010

If you are like me and feeling helpless watching all the devestation in Haiti, and wishing you could do more, I have an easy one for you. The power of a lot of people doing just a little is evident in the Red Cross's texting campaign.
Anyone with a mobile phone and an account with a major wireless carrier can text the phrase “Haiti” to the number 90999 and donate $10 to the Red Cross. That amount is charged to the donor’s cellphone bill. And according to New York Times bloggers, the campaign has already raised $1.2 million dollars! It's nice to have a story like this to report on when the news coming out of Haiti is so sad.

Catchin' Up

Wed, 13 Jan 2010 05:17:55 GMT

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Hi Friends.
Well, I'm beginning to catch my breath.   And I'm beginning the process of catching up.

I've almost caught up with the schedule of news updates, script deadlines, and promo shoots for each day at KSBY. I still haven't figured out my voice mail at work.  And I'm having trouble with my new company cell phone. It does more than my computer, and I can't even figure out how to unlock it, so I'm thinking it's going to be awhile until I'm using it much. I'll have to add reading the instructions to my "to do" list.

I haven't mastered company e-mail, but I can send and receive, so that's good.   I still need to learn how to page someone over the intercom, pick up a call that comes to the general newsroom number, and find out where that second ladies room is.   But I'm sitting here with a few minutes to send a blog, so at least I'm not feeling that I could crash and burn at any minute.  This may be the first time I haven't felt that since I first walked into the newsroom.

I'm catching up at home too. I found the nearest dry cleaner.   I managed to print up the requirements for a California Driver's license, and I got a P.O. box to make sure I get bills during this time of limbo with my living arrangements.   I'm still working on getting my new address to all those companies that send them. But I watered the plants in the house I'm renting, figured out the how the washing machine works, and even got to a yoga class today.   Things are beginning to settle a little.

But the catching up that will take awhile longer is the best kind. And I am blessed to have such a project ahead of me.   It's been 15 years since I left this place, but I'm finding out I still have a lot of friends here.

With the advent of facebook, the web, and this blog, I'm hearing from people I haven't talked to in years.  Some are dear friends I have kept up with over the years, but now we're once again living in the same town.   The calendar is filling up with events of theirs I can now attend.

Some are friends I managed to lose touch with, but I'm finding out what's been happening in their world over the last few years. And now I want to find time to hear more, and fill them in on my adventures.

And some are acquaintances I never thought I'd hear from again. I'm glad I am now.

I'm hearing from old contacts I used to rely on to break stories.   I have crossed paths with a doctor who once fixed my broken elbow.    And I've bumped into a guy who ran the watering hole I used to frequent.

It's all a hoot. And it's making this disorientation I'm feeling with the move and new job, a little less agonizing. But it's weird...stepping back into a world you've been away from for awhile. Things have changed since I've left. And I'm still catching up on the how and when it all happened.

And it's still odd to be able to invite my Mom and Dad to the beach for lunch tomorrow. Or my brother for a birthday celebration this weekend.   But I love the fact, that if he can't make it, we can do it next weekend. Because I'm not going anywhere. At least any time soon.   And that's a good thing, because I have a lot of catching up to do.

When Everything Old is New Again

Thu, 07 Jan 2010 05:41:35 GMT

January 6th, 2010

I've heard it said, if you're not growing, you're dying...or something like that. Well at least I know I'm not dying.   I know that because I'm experiencing growing pains. Again.   You'd think you reach a point in life where they kind of stop, or at least subside some.   Not for me.  Not right now.

I've been through them before. Of course we all have. For me they've been most obvious with each new move to a new city and new job.   Everything is new and you have to learn it all in as short of time as possible. It feels like baptism by fire at times. I remember trying to find my way through downtown Minneapolis streets, which are riddled with one-way signs, no-turn signs, bus lanes, bike lanes and light rail tracks that leave you feeling like you've made a turn that could cost you your life. And it could.   It makes looking for street signs to find where you are going next to impossible.   At least not without the people behind you blaring on their horns, and cops dumbfounded you could make their job of making ticket quotas so easy.

Then there's the process of finding parking, working your way through a maze of skyways, and shuffling through your collection of key cards needed for nearly every door or gate you need to pass through.

This move would be easier. And for sure it has been. I know San Luis Obispo.   I know the streets. I know where the grocery stores are, as well as the gas stations, pharmacies, dry cleaners, and closest Taco Bells.   Heck, I even know of a good doctor and dentist in town. But that doesn't mean I'm not still dealing with finding my way around, and growing pains that come in all sort of ways.

I suppose I really started to notice theme last Sunday night when I stepped into my partially stocked closet and took inventory of what I had remembered to pack for this three months of transition living.   It wasn't so much that I had forgotten to pack black shoes, or brought too many jackets and not enough pants, or that I forgot how warm it can be in January her and brought too many heavy winter suits.   What was really a problem was that I hadn't really tried any of these clothes on since I quit working months ago.

My time-out from the real world was filled with travel, happy hours, and a decent amount of comfort eating.    Pasta and I forged a profound relationship that seemed meaningful and was unfortunately, too long-lasting.   So I was feeling the "growing pains" of a different sort as I tried to lay out a week's worth of outfits for my new job.   Good thing I'll be a little too busy to be spending too much time at the kitchen table for the next few weeks.

And then I showed up at my first day on the job.   I don't care how much experience you have, when you step into a new work environment, you start feeling pretty ignorant, pretty fast.   I went through the usual H.R. processes...sign your tax forms, acknowledge there are behaviors at work that can get you fired, and arrange your automatic deposits for the paychecks that will finally be coming in.   Then the chaos begins.

You meet all your new co-workers.   Some I know from my first spin through KSBY. But there are ton of new faces, and names, and as much as I try, those names often escape me 30 seconds after I've shaken hands and been introduced.   It makes remembering what their role here is next to impossible. At least for a few days.   You get your new desk, your new phone, computer, and e-mail account and password.   And then you realize you don't now how to use half of it.

I've had to bug my new co-workers a hundred times in the last two days to ask them "how do you do this" and "how do I log on to that". And trying to write a few scripts has left me feeling like a college student. Everything seems to be a little to totally different from what I'm used to.  And I'm definitely going to need a tutorial on their editing system.   I feel lost most of the day.

It's all left me off-balance. Literally.   I have turned into the most accident-prone person in the county. Maybe the state.   I find myself bumping into the corners of desks, tripping on cords that are right there in plain sight, as well as curbs in the parking lot, rocks on the sidewalk and sometimes my own damn feet.

It's gotten even worse since I almost took out the entire KSBY set as well as their expensive plasma set used as a back drop for reporters fronting stories..   You see, nothing is where it is supposed to be, at least according to my inner navigation system, and when I went to walk off the set after an update Monday, I didn't notice the step down I needed to take first.   I went down fast, like a fall on the ice.   Except I managed to cover a lot of ground and connect with all kinds of equipment on my way.

It had the potential to be so ugly.   My co-anchor Tony could have been doing the news by himself from the newsroom instead of the studio. And he'd have to explain to our bosses that he was doing that because the new chick destroyed the set and is home soaking in ice.  I am a little sore, but fine, and the production crew was able to restore the set to it's original condition.

It's going to get better, I know.   But I can attest to the fact that everything old can be new again. And it all comes with a learning curve.   But hey, at least I'm growing.   And not just out of my clothes.

Time to get to work.   Happy Day my friends!

JT

School Night

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 04:19:20 GMT

January 3rd, 2010

Well it's been a glorious start to the new year.   The weekend was full of sun, sand and relaxation, but I'm dealing with feelings I haven't had in a few months; the feelings that come with the reality of a school night after a great weekend like this one.    And it's bigger than that really. It's more like the one before the first day of school every fall. I'm going to be in a whole new classroom, with a new teacher, new classmates...heck I'm even going to a new school. Okay, it's not really a new school. I've gone to classes here before but things have changed since then.  It's exciting and a bit anxiety producing as well.  After all, it's been a long summer break for JT.   For instance, I've been dressing casually so long, I realized as I looked through my closet tonight I failed to pack a lot of the things I'm going to be needing in the coming weeks.

It's not like my "summer break" was all fun in the sun. But I'm actually hoping I can keep the state of mind I managed to find during this time out.   I hope to fight what happens when your in the real world working every day.   Time is short, and nerves are frazzled. At least mine usually were. It took so long not to wake up in a panic that I was late for something at the beginning of my time "on the beach".   After reality set in, it took some time to get over the worry of what's next.   And it took the longest to learn how to just relax and trust it was all headed where it was supposed to...and that answers would come to me when they were the right ones.

I'm so grateful the way things have played out.   I know I'm lucky to be headed to work tomorrow, and to be living where I am.   And while it was hardly stress-free, I feel so grateful for the time I've had slow things down a bit and process it all.   It's hard to listen to your inner voice when there is so much noise drowning it out.    I want to keep working on the peace that comes with sitting still more often than I was used to and I know that's going to be more challenging starting tomorrow.

So while I'm feeling all the anxieties that come with the first school night of a new year, I'm perhaps most worried about losing too much of my summer state of mind.   Here's hoping I can, and that I get along well with all of my new classmates.   Time for bed. I have a big day ahead!

Livin' the Dream

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 07:08:38 GMT

December 31, 2009

Beware of dreams come true.   You've probably heard that before, but it probably came in the form of "Be careful what you wish for".   We've all experienced the peril of ignoring that warning at some point or another.   We've dreamt about the handsome guy across the office only to discover he's really sort of a nightmare once you get to know him.   Or we've wished for that new fancy car, only to find out it's upkeep costs more than your monthly mortgage payments. Or how about this one: we've dreamt of more free time to write that book or take that vacation we've thought about so many times, only to find ourselves with a pink slip, or a failed investment.   Suddenly we have too much time on our hands and too little money in our bank accounts to think about anything but our worries and woes.   Like I said, be careful what you wish for. Beware of dreams come true.

But on the other hand...maybe it's not that we need to beware of dreams come true, but be AWARE of them.   Sometimes I think we don't see it happening. It's probably because most of the time, we don't really believe they can. So we're not noticing what's unfolding right before our eyes.   We've also heard this before: Never stop dreaming. Believe in your dreams.   Dreams really do come true.   But I don't think were very good at noticing when the proof of those statements comes to be.

I don't know about you, but 2009 was a kind of tough year for me.   It's not one I'll likely look back on and think "Now THAT was a great year." In fact, I'm kind of excited it's about to be history.   It may not have rolled that way for you, but I know plenty of people who feel the same as I do.
2009 brought job losses, deaths, ends to relationships, and financial difficulties to many of us.    And all of that, led to changes.   You know how we are about change.   Especially change we didn't design and call for.   So many Americans got cold-cocked by our economy and were left on our rear-ends like a cartoon character...shaking our heads asking "What just happened".   Before we could even wrap our minds around the answer, the impacts of that blow were already underway, and few were good.   Or so we thought.

I'm not going to try to play Pauliana Pureheart here and paint a big coat of rosy all over the picture of 2009.   But I've had the opportunity for some moments of reflection in the last week, and discovered some realizations that are sure helping me see things from a different perspective.   I didn't want to lose my job. I didn't want to lose my home, my relationships, my dog, my life as I knew it.   Or did I?

It's starting to sink in that I'm actually living here now. I moved out of Mom and Dad's on the 27th and into my own digs for the next few months.   It's a furnished rental just off the beach.   It's not like it feels like home, as none of my "stuff" is here yet.   But I can hang my clothes up, have made a trip to the grocery store, and my toiletries are out of my travel bag and in a drawer in the bathroom.   The holidays are winding down and I'm not getting on a plane any time soon to head back to Minneapolis.  It's still sinking in that I live here now...for good.   And when it does, I realize how amazing it is how things play out.

I have just returned from a morning walk to the beach.   I got up before sunrise this morning worried David may miss his tee-time. (Yes, he's living his dream this holiday week. Golf in the middle of winter.)   I had planned to just go back to bed, but decided to make a quick dash to the rooftop deck before I did to check out the full moon that was still up.   I mean, when you live in a home with a rooftop deck, you just have to take advantage of it, right?   So I grabbed a cup of coffee and wrapped myself in the Snuggie Blanket my nephew gave me for Christmas (yes, people really do buy those things) and headed up.   It was so beautiful.   The moon was going down behind the palm trees and mountain to my right, the sun was coming up over the beach to my left, and the seagulls were welcoming me to the morning of New Year's Eve 2009.   They were the only ones making any noise yet.

I decided it was too amazing to miss out on for another hour or two of sleep so I rushed back downstairs.   I considered getting dressed, but decided any vanity was a waste of precious moments too.   So I refilled the coffee cup, slipped on my Uggs and pulled my Irish Green Snuggie tight around my pink and yellow pajamas in the hopes of camouflaging juts how dreadful my fashion choice was this morning. (I totally ignored the bed-head of hair I was sporting.)   I headed out the front door and down the street to the beach, glad it was just the seagulls up this early.

The beauty of the morning was overwhelming.   I wanted to go knocking on doors asking my neighbors "Do you know what you're missing!?!?!" Then I remembered what I was wearing.   Best to make our first introductions another time.   So there, by myself, I enjoyed the company of the seagulls and watched a beautiful white full moon disappear and beautiful warm sun come up.   The few clouds that were there to greet it, were rewarded with a firey splash of opalescence color.    I sat there thinking "how did I get so lucky?" Wait. Lucky?

It hit me right there.  I didn't plan this moment, but I had dreamt about it many times. I am living, albeit temporarily, in a house above the very beach I used to drive to at sunset years ago and think "Someday I am going to live right here somewhere where I can just walk down to this beach."    At the time I was so broke it seemed so far fetched, but I was young enough to believe it would happen...somehow, someday.   And I can remember visiting the area when I came back to CA to visit family and thinking "I am going to end up back here one day...either to visit my vacation beach home, or to live in it." I even went so far as to make my realtor sister-in-law take me around and show me places for sale, just to make my dream vision a little more clear.  And whether I like to admit it or not, part of my career pursuit to bigger and richer markets was in the quest to end up at the very bench I was sitting on this morning.... to be taking in the views I was, and the sounds and smells that were around me.   I was, in that moment, living a dream come true and my heart was smiling so big I was glad the seagulls were there to share my joy. Or maybe I was sharing theirs.

That's how it happens, you know.   Our dreams come true all the time.   Not how we planned it all necessarily, and sometimes among such chaos, we manage to forget to notice.   Did you always dream of owning a home, but you were so caught up in getting it furnished and fixed up, you failed to notice the magnitude of what the universe had accomplished for you?   Or when the kids are screaming and you are late for work, perhaps the miracle of how God brought these dreams to you as well, completely slips your mind.   Or, dare I ask, how many times have you sat at your desk and thought "There has to be more to life than this" as you daydreamed about other ways to spend your time on this earth.  But now, because you're so concerned about what's next, you haven't noticed you now have the opportunity to find out.

This year has knocked so many of us to our knees.   But I also know I am not alone in feeling it also knocked everything wide open and allowed some of us to find new priorities, new goals, new dreams.

Look, I know we can't put reality on hold while we ponder the little wonders in life all day long.  I still haven't reported to my first day at work yet, and I'm sure I'll lose a little of this rosy perspective after a few weeks of punching the clock, so to speak.   And I'm not trying to say the fears of how you'll pay the bills, or feed your family aren't real and valid.   I'm living a little lighter of heart because I have found a new job, in a place I love.   But I can tell you that a few months ago I felt like my world was falling apart, and it seemed to continue to do so over the months that followed. But somehow, I managed to end up with a cup of coffee in my hand, a snuggie around my shoulders, and my butt on a bench at the beach this morning as I watched the last sunrise of 2009.   It was a year I'd just as soon skipped in many ways, but it brought me here. I wish my dog had been at my feet, but I was still living a dream come true. And I am fairly certain the events of '09 will bring me more dreams come true in 2010.

So keep your eyes peeled in the new year.  Dreams do come true, but they're kind of sneaky in their route to reach you sometimes. Enjoy the heck out of those moments when you realize you really are living the dream.   And keep believing in all those still on their way to you.

Farewell 2009.   Welcome 2010. And may it be a happy new year for all of you.

Cheers, my friends.   Cheers indeed.

JT

Goodbyes are Never Easy

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 03:43:59 GMT

December 22, 2009

It's time.

It's time to say so-long. I feel like the last few months have been full of too many good-byes. So I don't want to dwell on it. But I couldn't leave without acknowledging it. I left Minneapolis last Thursday and am in California for the holidays It still hasn't quite sunk in that I won't be getting on a plane to head back to the mid-west after all the celebrations have ended. As regular readers know (and the rest of you can catch up on by reading back a few blogs) I'm staying here in California to take a job at KSBY-TV and be near family.

The preparations for the move kept me busy enough to keep emotions from running amok. I forgot what a move across the country involves, especially when you are moving more than the few possessions I had as a young professional headed east. But I can't ignore them...the emotions, forever. They come right to the surface when I have to say good-byes. That doesn't mean you should skip them.

It's not like I won't ever be coming back. I have a house there (and thankfully some good tenants in there until it sells) and relationships I'll try to maintain over the distance. And you all. But the fact of the matter is, my life begins here now. Again. I'm thrilled about that. It doesn't mean there's not some sadness in the transition.

I have to say good-bye to Minnesota as my home, and to many of you as neighbors. But I do so with one hell of a grateful heart. I am so thankful for my time there, the adventures I enjoyed and the way I was welcomed into the community. And I am incredibly grateful for the support I've been offered during a difficult time of transition.

I just kept getting lifted up by the magic of Minnesota during that time. And the people who live there. it's not just the letters, e-mails and posts, but the little signals that have told me I'm right on track, even in the middle of a bit of chaos.

The magic comes in the most unexpected moments. Like the time not too long ago when I was walking Madelyn before she took her turn for the worse. I was still at a loss of what the next step in my life should be, but I was beginning to think it would be a step that took me away from the Twin Cities. I was feeling that maybe my time there was done. I was not sad, I don't think. In fact, I was beginning to feel an optimism that comes when change is finally accepted, almost embraced.

I hadn't made any decisions yet. I wasn't even sure the right thing had been presented to me yet, but I was starting to feel like it was just around the corner. That what was meant to be was on its way....and soon.

So I'm walking my usual route, in front of a building I've passed literally hundreds of times, and I hear a voice yell my name. "Jeanette!"
I didn't think I knew anyone who lived in this building. "Hello Jeanette!" the voice yelled again. I followed the sound to a balcony up high and the woman standing outside on it. She had stepped outside, I think, just to give me a message. She was full of this incredible happy, optimistic energy and she was offering it to me. I said hi back to her, and she just opened her arms out to me and enthusiastically yelled "Jeanette, we wish you the best! We love you and we just wish you all the best!" There was no condolence in her tone...but almost an excitement that stopped me there in my tracks. I was frozen by her energy for a moment, and just had to stand there and take it all in.

She was smiling ear to ear, and just kept saying it over and over...we just love you and we wish you the best. I was fairly certain I didn't know her, and there she was, making me feel like we had been pals for years, and who was the "we" she was referring to? There was this amazing sense of optimism and joy to her. It was if she had already received the news I was just feeling was right around the corner.

I thanked her and continued on, feeling more optimistic than ever.   I was moved by her aura of confidence in my future.    I kind of shook my head at the significance I felt about the interaction and continued on feeling absolutely blessed by the support she and all of you have offered.    And I felt certain in that moment that things would be coming together just as they were meant to be in short time.

And they did.   Here I am, sitting in a coffee shop in California knowing it's right were I belong today.   I took my nephew Christmas shopping yesterday and will join my mom and sister-in-law in wrapping presents tonight.   I couldn't have predicted this outcome that day but the feeling she gave me, the message she gave me was right on.    Change was just around the corner and it was going to be good.   I will miss my life in Minnesota, but I'm quite confident it was time for me to say so-long and head home.

I do so with a heart full of gratitude for the experiences I had there, the friends I made, and the things I learned.   I could write thank you notes every day in the new year and still not be able to personally express my gratitude to all those who made this transition time in my life easier.   So I do here, and in a letter I am sending to the local papers today.     Whether they print it or not, I don't know, but the basic message is this: Thank you.   Thank you for everything.

And Merry Christmas my friends.

Transitions and Time

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:58 GMT

Monday, December 1st, 2009

Game on. The big move to California is in the works.  I've put the house here in Minneapolis on the market, found temporary housing out west. I've scheduled some good-bye lunches, brunches and such, and have begun going through my life.    I've moved a lot in the last 20 years.   I did a mental scan today and I counted 15 of them since I headed off to college.     The biggest was probably when I loaded what little possessions I had and headed to Iowa to take my first anchor job.   That began my extended stay in the Midwest. .

But things have changed since then.   As the houses and paychecks got bigger, so did my storage facilities.   I've accumulated more worldly possessions, and more "stuff".    Most of it has come with me in the moves since then.   The moves usually happened pretty quickly and I never really went through my "stuff" very carefully.    I just boxed it up and figured I'd get to it when "things settled down" and I had some time.  Besides, midwest homes have BASEMENTS.   And unfinished ones like mine can become black holes of neglected treasures.   I'm talking pictures, tapes of my very first broadcasts on air, awards, letters, mementos.   You know. I'm a sentimental girl.   I have LOTS of Mementos.

Well, time flew and things really never settled down enough for me to pull those boxes down and go through them carefully.   The only time they were touched was when someone asked me for some old picture or tape for a story or article or something.   That's when I'd fly down there, curse as I bumped my shin on some old piece of exercise equipment that now served as a drying rack or temporary sorting space for old papers, and frantically rifle through box after box trying to find whatever it was I was sure was in there somewhere.

In the process I'd find boxes of old cables, and extension cords, negatives, clothes that I might wear again someday, or could score some big bucks in some vintage shop.     I'd mutter to myself, "I have to devote a few days to sort through this stuff. That will be a good winter project."   But I guess a good book or movie always sounded more inviting than heading down there and taking it on.

Sometimes I'd find what I was looking for in those frantic searches, and sometimes not. But always I'd rush off in a mad dash to get to work less than 15 minutes late and leave my basement even more disorganized than it was before.

But this time, since I'm moving all they way across the country again, and since I actually have a little time to plan the move, I made a decision to stray from my usual pattern.   I resolved to not haul it all with me...again.   That means I've spent a lot of the last couple weeks hanging out in my basement (which is actually starting to look more like a room, than a dumping grounds) going through things.   It's been an embarrassing, agonizing, and touching experience.   I'm embarrassed I've held on to so much for so long. I'm agonizing over getting rid of some things even though I really have no use for them at the present moment.  And it's been so touching going through the boxes of letters and papers I held on to along my way.

I've kept love letters just knowing I would want to look back on them someday.   Truth is, I haven't.   Those loves are over. The letters you want to hold on to are the ones with the person you're with right now, as reminders of the days when you were falling in love...the days before you realized they too have faults.   I've held on to way too many pictures, but it's been fun to go through them, and get rid of many of them too. I've taken too many, and in the internet age we live in, some are best gone for ever.   But some of the most touching boxes I've found are full of letters and notes I fully intended to respond to one day, and never did.   I'm talking about letters from viewers in Des Moines, when my first dog Maddie died.   And letters from viewers offering support, and checks when I made a pledge to fight puppy mills in that state because that sweet German Shepard was a victim of that horrible industry.   There were letters offering support for Race for the Cure, which I got involved in because my best friend Susann Figge died of breast cancer way too early. And the incredibly sweet so-long notes when I took the job in Minneapolis and left Iowa.

Now, I have a couple more boxes from Minnesotans who too have send cards and letters when I lost my husky Madelyn.   And another is filled with expressions of support after I was laid-off from WCCO.    There are story ideas and numbers of people who I had been working to connect with to tell their stories. Stories that never got told, because I left before we got them done.    And I have more on my computer, from people who have e-mailed, sent me messages on facebook, and on my website.    Again, I had hoped to get back to each and every one, but the truth is, the move is approaching fast, and the reality is, they'll likely not get the individual responses they deserve, and I'd love to give them.

So I'm hoping some of you who sent those kind notes and letters over the years might see this.   I want you to know that I have read so many for the second time in the past week, and my heart has been filled with gratitude, love, and humility.   I have been so fortunate to have been blessed by your friendship and support over the years.  I am so glad I hung on to those boxes, and had the time to sort through them.   You may not have heard back from me directly, but I have carried your messages with me, in boxes, and now in my grateful heart for crossing paths with all of you.

Full Circle

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:57 GMT

Tuesday, November 10th, 2009

I can't believe it's really happening.   It's always been a quiet longing, but now it's really happening.   I'm coming home to the Central Coast of California. It was hard leaving this place years ago, but the quest for upward movement in my career had me packing my bags, saying tearful goodbyes to family and friends, and heading east. I learned what mid-west winters where like, and what wonderful mid-west people people are like.   I learned how the presidential race starts at least two (or three!) years beforehand when you live in the city that hosts the first presidential contest in the nation, the Iowa Caucus.   And I learned people really do set up fishing houses on frozen lakes and fish in the dead of winter in Minnesota.   And I learned how fun college football can be to watch when you're sitting a sea of Cyclone, Hawkeye, Gopher, or Badgers fans.

I usually felt I was just where I was meant to be at that moment in time, but always there was that quiet longing to get back home...someday.

It occurred to me that someday might be drawing nearer during a visit home for a reunion in August. (You can see what I wrote back then here: http://jeanettetrompeter.com/Blog/Roots.aspx)  I didn't have a plan, but I began asking myself if maybe it was time.   I love Minnesota and saying goodbye will be hard, but I was beginning to have notions my time there was nearing an end.   I made a pledge since my departure from WCCO to follow my gut on "what's next" and though it's been challenging at times, I have tried to listen.   And when offers or opportunities presented themselves in other places, my gut had a knot in it.   The thought of moving to another new city and starting over wasn't quite as intriguing to me as it once was, especially in the state of the industry and the economy right now.   I thought more about more about where I wanted to live, rather than where I wanted to work.   I could stay in Minneapolis, but I needed a paycheck coming in before I saw the opportunity of one appearing.   And through it all, I kept thinking, "maybe it's time".

So today, I will walk into the station where I started my career and say hi to old colleagues and friends and be introduced to new ones as their newest employee. Yes, I'm coming back to KSBY News as their evening news anchor, a position I always dreamed about when I was a young reporter here.

I have told a few friends and colleagues, and their reaction has shaken my balance a bit.   KSBY serves San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara Counties, but it is still a relatively small market.    But it's filled with young people still passionate about what they're doing, who aren't doing it for the money, but because they love what they're doing.   And there are veterans who have chosen to stay because they realized early they get to do what they love along a little stretch of paradise.  And as I looked out the window of my hotel room last night (see picture above) and this morning, I'm realizing I had to go follow the yellow brick road, and experience the mishaps and adventures I did to appreciate what I'm looking at.    Certainly there are no guarantees here either, especially these days, but I'm in a more comfortable venue for the bumps that may come. I'm home.

Don't get me wrong, I will miss the Twin Cities. I now love hockey, I sport I didn't really much understand the concept of until I sat behind the glass at a Minnesota Wild game at the Xcel Energy Center. I will always be a Minnesota Vikings fan from here on out. And yes, I'm on the Brett Farve bandwagon now too.   But my favorite player is Jared Allen, not only because he's an amazing player, but also because he reminds me of some of the Bull-Doggers I know...back home.   It's weird how life works out, if you just sit back and let it it unfold. And listen to that little voice inside, or that knot in your stomach.

So here we go. On to the next adventure....California here I come, right back where I started from.....   Full Circle.

Thank you all for the wonderful support you have offered over the last six months.    I'll be around Minnesota through the end of the year, and jeanettetrompeter.com shall continue on while I'm at KSBY.   So keep stopping by and follow me on my moving adventures and all that follows.

Sentimental Journey

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:56 GMT

My Last Walk with Madelyn
Friday, November 6th, 2009

I have this belief.   I have this belief that when someone you love died, there is a moment when they give you a sign they are okay, that they are where they are supposed to be.   That they've made it there, crossed over, are resting in peace.   You never know what it's going to be, and maybe not everyone experiences it, but I have had it with every person close to me I've lost.   It's hard to trust that moment will come in the middle of your grief, and it doesn't come immediately.   But at some point, something happens: and you just know. I believe it's their spirit telling you it's okay. They're okay.   And you will be okay soon too.   I got that message from Madelyn this week.

Most of you who visit here know Madelyn is my dog. Was my dog. No, is my dog.   I had to put her down in early September.   I was a mess for a couple of weeks, and while time has helped, I'm hardly over it.   I haven't been able to do a lot of the things I usually do: greet a neighbor dog with an open heart, see someone walking their dog without being jealous, or take a walk around Lake Calhoun without her.   I still don't like walking in the door to my house without her there to greet me, or heading up the stairs for bed without hearing her following up after me.   So I haven't been able to even consider doing what I did this week. The problem is, the seasons change quickly in Minnesota and I didn't want to do it in the middle of winter.   So when I woke up early one morning this week and saw the beautiful sun rising, I thought "this is the day".

I had Madleyn cremated, and I was careful to have it done at a place where I knew it was only her ashes I would be getting back.   Those ashes have been sitting on my nightstand since the day she died.   I have known what I wanted to do with them.   At least a portion of them.    I wanted to spread some of them along our daily route around Lake Calhoun.    For almost five years, it's been the place we got some fresh air, stretched our legs, and made a lot of friends.    And it's where Madelyn would pause and sniff and mark. I called it "checking her pee-mail"   I swear she had friends leaving her messages because there were spots she always had to stop. Every time.   So I wanted to do it for her on this day.

I bundled up, carefully opened the box by my bedside and scooped out some of her ashes.   I took a deep breath, cued up some meditative music on my I-pod and headed out.    I knew there would be tears, and I was proved right immediately.  I should have remembered the kleenex.   Thankfully I had sunglasses, and thankfully it was early enough to get some privacy on our little sentimental journey.

It was such a beauitful morning.   And I felt like it had arrived just for Madelyn and I.    I took my time and stopped at every tree, bush and piece of shoreline I remembered her pulling me too.   When we first moved here, she was still young enough and healthy enough to run with me.   She would drive me crazy when we'd pass a spot she just couldn't resist and would yank me off course.   I usually made her wait until our next walk to indulge her in all of them, but as she got older and couldn't even make it all the way around the lake, I let her pause and pee wherever she wanted to.   I laughed when I got to spots where she'd insist on venturing into the bushes and frustrate me by getting her leash caught up in the branches.   Today, I ventured in myself to sprinkle a few of her ashes there. Even as he body was shutting down, she wanted to take a little trek to this spot. And I smiled as I remembered her ambling along, still wanting to go farther.   She still had the heart, she just didn't have the legs anymore.

As I made my way to the other side of the lake, I started to remember the days before she started to slow down.   It's been awhile since she was able to make it all the way around. And the memories of those days were coming back to me.   I really began to feel like Madelyn was with me, leading the way like a tour guide, and like a kid was asking me "Remember when we used to hang out at the Tin Fish and just watch the world go by? Or when we had picnics on the grass by the boathouse? Or how about when we......."   I had visions of all of them....remembering when she was young and healthy, and before I learned the penalties for letting her off-leash, would let her loose along a certain strech to run along the shoreline. I saw her there, with her ears back, her body stretched out, moving like it was the very thing she was born to do. Run.  I remembered how she'd pause to make sure I was still up on the bank above her, then take off for another sprint.   We'd meet at the beach and I'd put her back on her leash and head home.

I remembered taking shortcuts right across the lake in the middle of winter, watching pond hockey matches or talking to an ice-skater along the way.   This final walk with Madelyn prompted do many memories:  watching Sesqucentennial boat races, Para-sailors make an icy cold day look like a Mountain Dew commercial, and wind-surfers make Minneapolis look like a picture postcard in summertime.  I remembered ice-huts popping up as soon as lake froze, and kayakers taking a sping as soon as it thawed.   I remembered the lonliness of not knowing one person passing by when we first arrived, and walks taking too long because we were bumping into so many friends a few years later. And right there next to me for all of it, was Madelyn.

I realized how much things have changed in five short years.   We both grew older, and daily rituals changed a bit.   I won't have Madelyn this winter to make sure I get out and about on bitter cold days.   She's not here anymore, and it's quite possible I won't be either by the time the lake looks like this again.   But we lived a lot of great memories along this route.   So I'm glad I left a little of Madelyn here.   And the rest of her will go with me...wherever my journey takes me.   Just like always, she'll go along with me.

Time Flies

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:55 GMT

November 3rd, 2009.
Wow, how did that happen?    It's true. Time flies...when you're having fun, and when you're a bit stressed out.   I feel like I can blame both for the absence of blogs lately.    My apologies to those of you who kindly stop by now and then to see what the heck I'm up to, and my thanks to those who leave me gentle reminders it's been awhile since I've posted.

I kind of gave myself until the end of September to enjoy my time off, and not stress out about making a move.   I seemed to get going on so many projects immediately after my departure from WCCO, that I realized if I was going to take advantage of this time off, I would have to schedule some downtime as it doesn't come easily for me to keep a calendar open.   So, I played much of August and September.   But as I planned, I've been working harder in October to figure out that "what's next" that I keep talking about.    Fortunately, I do have some options, but unfortunately, I'm often not so great about sorting through options and making decisions.

I did what I often like to do when I'm considering a life decision, or three or four.   I ran away.   As I've written in the past, I find a change of scenery can do wonders.   So, I went to London for a week.    I had a friend who lived there, and a friend who was moving there, and some miles to use, so I made a last minute decision to visit a place I've always been intrigued with, and see if it might offer a clearer head at week's end. I think it worked.

I'm going to start posting some travel pages of my little adventures, with tips I gained during my visits and pictures, and London may be the first.   Look for that by weeks end.

So, my apologies for disappearing.    I don't have any big news to share, as there is no definite plan at this point. But I'm realizing it may be time to let the soul-searching of the last few month guide me to coming up with one.    I promise to keep you posted right here.

And my sincere thanks for letting me know I have friends stopping by , and that you notice when I'm not showing up!

Have a great day.

JT

It Aint Over Until its Over

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:54 GMT

Wednesday, October 7th, 2009

I'm actually been grateful I'm unemployed the last few days.   That's because there's too much fun stuff going on around the Twin Cities to have a JOB to throw into the mix.   I'm talking the Vikings.   I'm talking the Twins. I'm talking the Wild.   Minnesota sports have given us reason to cheer during what has otherwise been a kind of dreary, cold and wet early Fall.   We've learned how true the saying is: "It ain't over 'till it's over!"

I went to the Packers game on Monday night and like the mass of other Vikings (and Packers) fans, had a blast.   Certainly the Packer fans didn't leave on the high note us Vikings fans did. But they appeared to have a ball for most of the night watching a game that could have gone either way for most of it.   It was wild how almost evenly split the crowd was.   That's what happens during border battles, I suppose.   A lot of Packers fans wore their old Farve Jerseys which they had defaced with black X's and comments unbecoming to good sportsmanship. But I suppose they feel there was some bad sportsmanship in the way things went down.  That usually happens in painful break-ups, and Brett's was for all parties involved.

It seemed clear to me by what their jerseys or hats or signs said, that a lot of Packer fans are not "over Brett".   They're still in the anger stage of their grief over the split. And it's always hard to bump into an "ex" out in public for the first time. Especially if they are with someone else. Brett was, and he appeared to be having a ball.   It will get easier in time for them.   And maybe someday the pain will subside and they'll be able to remember the good times and be happy he's happy.   It's probably going to be awhile, though.   And being the new interest he's chosen, we can't wait that long to enjoy our new courtship and romance.

It did seem the ladies were less angry toward Brett.   They were trying to take a higher ground.    But it was hard for them, I know. I realized that during a visit to the ladies room.   There was a line (of course) even in the middle of the game.   I was behind a few women with Packer's Jerseys on and they were incredulous about the wait. "Is it always like this here?" they asked. Well, it was a bit busier than usual for a non-break-in-the-game visit, but this is the Packers/Vikings match-up and it's Monday Night Football. "We don't have any wait in our stadium." they eagerly explained.   "We have rows and rows of stalls and this big sink area in the middle and it's heated, and you never wait...." Their description went on and on and I started getting jealous. Then I realized what it was all about.  They had to find something.   They have a way better stadium.   I gave it to them and told them how lucky they were as I waited my turn.   Then I headed back into the old dome to watch Brett play in purple   So I have to plan ahead a little for bathroom breaks. So what?

I couldn't have been happier walking back to the car after the game.   I kept thinking "I love this place".  I loved the people, (from both sides!) I loved the game. I loved the way the fog was hanging around the rooftops of downtown buildings making for a hazy glow that I found beautiful. I loved being a Minnesotan.

The pride continued last night as I watched the Twins put on a performance that was both thrilling and crazy-making.   At several points during the game I thought "I can't take this anymore" and I even received a few texts from my straight-laced, church-going mother watching in California that echoed my frustrations. The texts were simple, short, one-word messages not often uttered from her lips.   My Dad must have figured out how to text.

We all know how it ended, though. And when it goes your way, the agonizing process to get there suddenly seems worth it and makes the victory all the more sweet.   And from what I read in the paper today, Wild Fans are feeling the same way this morning after a great home-opener.    Minnesota is on a roll right now with our sports teams.  It doesn't happen like this very often.   I think that's why it's feeling like such a magic time for fans.  We've had a heart broken enough to be able to savor the thrill of it all going your way for a change.   And it ain't over yet!

Its a Wrap

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:50 GMT

Sunday, October 4th, 2009

Well, there's no doubt about it.   Fall is here.   And it isn't being well-received by Yours Truly.   I went for a run this weekend and was not too excited about having to put gloves on.   I was even less thrilled to figure out about half-way through, I should have been wearing a stocking cap too.   Seriously.   Frozen ears on October 2nd?   I'm just not ready.

Thankfully, our professional sports teams are heating things up this week and making the chill of this early fall tolerable.   I had no problem staying inside yesterday afternoon to watch the Twins make their way into the run for the American League title.   Nor did I today.   And it was a beautiful drive out to Running Aces Casino where Rod Simons and Dean Dalton were taping their weekly Sports Final Television Show. They asked me to come on out and play with them today and get fired up for the big Packers/Vikings game tomorrow night.  (And take some ribbing about taking home an Emmy but not a paycheck.) There was a bit of a scheduling mishap, and Defensive End Ray Edwards and Superstar of the week Receiver Greg Lewis stepped in for Jared Allen and Ryan Longwell.

It was great getting to re-live the glory of Lewis' catch in the final seconds of last week's game with the guy who kept his feet right where they needed to be and made it happen.   And it's not often a girl like me gets to feel petite, but I sure did hanging next to Ray Edwards.   They were both classy and cool as they fielded questions not only from Rod, Dean, and me on the sidelines, but fans who were hanging around the casino to watch the taping, snapping pictures and hoping maybe just for a handshake. They both obliged.   I love when I see talented athletes take the time to make the day of the fans who appreciate their skills.

It's going to make watching the game tomorrow even more fun for those fans and for this one.    There are some predictions tomorrow night's game may be the most watched Monday Night Football game in history.   The Packers/Vikings rivalry is a classic and tomorrow night's match-up is a historic climax in the story.   And the Vikings...all of them, could be walking away 4 and 0 when it's done.   And the Twins could be league champions on Tuesday.   Chilly or not, fall can be a great time of year in Minnesota.

Sports Final airs tonight on KARE-TV http://www.kare11.com/ at 11:35.   You can watch it on-line at http://sportsfinaltv.com/ .   And check out more pictures from the taping at: http://purplepride.org .

Yeah Twins! Go Vikes!

Mixed Emotions

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:49 GMT

September 27, 2009

I wasn't going to go. When I heard a few weeks ago I was nominated for an Emmy award for my work at WCCO, I couldn't imagine how being there for the awards ceremony would be a ton of fun.   I mean, it just felt weird for all kinds of reasons.   But after some nudging from a few supportive friends, and the vision of getting together with some of my former colleagues not only from WCCO, but other stations in the Cities and Iowa, I changed my mind.   I'm glad I did.

It was great to see some of the people I haven't seen in months who I used to see daily.   Not working with them anymore didn't take any of the fun out of watching them walk to the stage to get their awards for good work, and I'm glad I could be there to add some hoops and hollers to their ascent to the stage.   It's always fun to see former colleagues from Iowa each year when they drive up for the ceremony, and I just loved seeing Cortney Kintzer honored for his work at as a photojournalist.   I worked a lot with him at http://www.kcci.com/index.html and he is simply one of the best in the business.   And yes, it was wonderful to hear my own name called when Kim Insley http://www.kare11.com/news/news_article.aspx?storyid=126879 of KARE-TV http://www.kare11.com/  and I were honored in the same category.   She was as gracious as ever offering kudos to me in her own acceptance speech.     And I'm so grateful I didn't miss Nancy Nelson receive the Golden Circle Award on behalf of her late husband Bill Carlson.    To be recognized in any form on the same night and the same stage as Bill is an amazing honor for any journalist, and especially to someone who was lucky enough to work with him and know him as I did.

There are always mixed emotions with these award ceremonies.   They are typically long, at times boring evenings.   And for an industry undergoing the angst it is these days, it's getting more difficult for stations to do the kind of work they'd like to...the kind deserving recognition like that handed out last night.  It's getting hard to even keep the doors open. Even so, there is work worth honoring.   And certainly being reminded of careers like Bill Carlson's, and seeing the enthusiasm and passion in the acceptance speeches of young journalists last night helps us all remember what incredible opportunities and responsibilities we all still have in the industry.

For a full list of winners:  http://midwestemmys.org/2009/09/27/emmy-night-2009-2/

http://www.twincities.com/ci_13421494?IADID=Search-www.twincities.com-www.twincities.com

Winding Down

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:48 GMT

September 24th, 2009

It always happens.   We even got the last blast of summer I was hoping for, and it eased the sting a bit.   But try as we might, the transition is well underway.   Fall is pushing the summer of 09 into the history books.   And as I often do, I'm finding myself feeling melancholy.   I found myself singing the worlds to Don Henley's "Boys of Summer" song as I was trying to soak up one of our recent wonderfully warm mid-September days:

Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer's out of reach
Empty lake
Empty streets
The sun goes down alone...

It wasn't alone. I was there, and another boater who managed an afternoon escape to perfect glass on Lake Minnetonka. But the water was perfect glass because there wasn't much company.

It's always hard letting go of the energy and the activity that comes with summer, but I think it's even harder when you live in the mid-west and the transition is so well-defined.   Growing up in California, I started realizing beach season was winding down when my older brother started gearing up for football practices.   Here, there are more subtle, yet obvious reminders.   I know I'm not the only one who began noticing changing colors in the trees a couple of weeks ago.   I tried to not pay attention, but Mother Nature's brushstrokes along the shorelines are getting broader, and the depth of color richer.   And whether you put your toes in it or not, you know taking a plunge into any body of water around here these days will be a bit more...."refreshing" than it was even a few days ago.

We didn't get the kind of summer many of us had hoped for.   At least I don't feel like I did.   There weren't many of those long, steamy hot summer days best spent on some sort of floating device on a body of water.   Or the warm evenings that require no jacket, sweater or sweatshirt, but do lend themselves to frozen blended drinks on a patio.   We got a few, but not enough to leave me ready for the cool of fall, or the slower pace that comes with it's arrival.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed summer. I found myself unemployed and able to hit the lake on many of those days when the sun did shine in all it's glory.   I think I only styled my hair a half dozen times in the last 3 months.   I went without makeup more than I went with it.   I'm fairly certain I only wore high heels once.    And I'm pretty sure every piece of clothing I put on was either made of cotton or linen that wrinkled. (And it didn't matter.)

It doesn't stop there. I wore crazy bright-neon nail polish when I felt inclined, and even painted my toes a silvery metallic blue once.   I skipped the hair appointments until a week ago, letting the sun do whatever it wanted to my color.   Who cares if it would have looked a brassy blonde on camera. I wasn't on camera and neither was my hair.  I stayed up late if I felt like it, and I often scheduled business and social meetings around happy hour specials.   You have no idea how much fun it is to order an icy cold $2 beer on a patio between 3 and 5 in the afternoon when for most of your adult life those hours have simply signaled deadline crunch time.

Its not like I did nothing but play this summer, but I did get to enjoy more of that carefree casual spirit that comes with summertime when you're a kid.   And I'm feeling a lot like I did when fall was approaching years ago: bummed to put the shorts and flip-flops away, but somewhat excited about the prospect of new school clothes and seeing some friends I haven't in awhile.    I still don't have any news to report about what's next for me, but in the back of my mind I had kind of given myself until the end of September to worry about it too much.    September's here. In fact, it's almost gone...and so, I'm afraid are the lazy, long days of summer.

I think summer helped distract us all a bit from the rocky roads we've all been traveling lately in this economy.   But there's no denying change is in the air.   Another round of it.    And it may be just what we all needed.   It will be interesting to see how things look by the time the first snow flies.
Oh dear.   Here's hoping we first find a few bonus days the leftovers of the season we're just saying so long to!

Sweet Condolences

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:47 GMT

Tuesday, September 16th, 2009

You are all so wonderful...all of you who have sent me messages of support and empathy through facebook and e-mail regarding the loss of Madelyn.   I assure all of you who have not heard back from me personally I have read every single one.   And while to a certain degree there is nothing that can take away the pain or fill the void right now, your words have support have been soothing.    You need to know they stick with me.   Little things that some of you wrote when I first talked about Madelyn's cancer came to me last week, helping me through the process.

I've received some sweet messages, cards, a couple of books, and a pretty thoughtful condolence gift from the guy who helps me with this website: a box of See's Candy Nuts and Chews (see my last blog for story behind that.) The note that came with it reminded me that Madelyn is enjoying her own box now too.

It's been a week now.  The reality that Madelyn is really gone has begun to sink in.  But the void I feel in my home and in my heart is still there.  Pet owners who have had to say goodbye know exactly what I'm talking about.   It starts in the morning when I wake up.   The first thing I have done for 12 years is stretch over to the side of my bed and drop an arm to give Madelyn a pet and say good morning.   It's a rough start to the day to be greeted with the realization she's not lying there.   I head downstairs for coffee and wait to hear the sounds of her carefully working her way down each step and heading to the door.   It's time for a walk.    I wait to hear her the hurried click click click across the kitchen floor every time I open the refrigerator or start making something to eat.   I always had a focused audience in the kitchen.   She would make herself comfortable in the most inconvenient spot where I would have to be careful not to trip over her moving around.   I hate the open path that now is there.   I am having to be more careful preparing food or eating it as crumbs and spills will stay there until I clean them up now.   My little vacuum cleaner is gone.   I still feel the inclination to grab a treat for her on my way out the door.   I still glance toward the area where her dog bowls were to see if she has enough water.   I have even grabbed the gate I used to keep her from going upstairs when I was gone and started to put it up before I realized it's no longer necessary.   I want it to be. And I want to hear her climbing up the stairs and settling next to my bed when the lights have gone out and she's finally eaten her dog food after being convinced no more scraps and treats are coming today.

I'm doing better.   I really am.   But I'm still vulnerable to a wave of grief in so many moments in my days.   I miss her in so many of them. I wonder how long it will be until these ingrained rituals will start to fade.  How long until I can take run and not expect an eager dog to be waiting for her spin around the neighborhood upon my return. How long until I'm out and about and not thinking "I should get home, Madelyn hasn't been out in a few hours."   And how long until I don't look for her every time when I walk in the door?

When my last dog died, someone gave me a copy of the Rainbow Bridge and it brought me comfort.  (I have clipped a copy below).   I have seen it many times since then.   Then last week one of you sent me one I had not seen before.  Though it brought a whole new flood of tears, it brought some peace to my aching heart.   It captures better than I can the way we miss our pets when they are gone.   And the images it offers have brought me some comfort as I make my way through the pain of losing your best buddy.

Thank you all again for you understanding and empathy.

JT

I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear.
"It's me, I haven't left you. I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here"
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea.
You were thinking of the many times, your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at my grave today, you tend it with such care.
I want to reassure you, that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you, I smiled and said "It's me"
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know that I was standing there.
It's possible for me to be so near you every day To say to you with certainty, "I never went away".
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew....
in the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over..I smile and watch you yawning and say "Goodnight, God bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide, I'll rush across to greet you and we'll stand side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out then come home to be with me.

THE RAINBOW BRIDGE:

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

Missing Madelyn

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:46 GMT

Tuesday, September 9th, 2009

I knew the time was coming. I knew it would be the right thing to do. I knew it would hurt.   I knew I'd be a mess. None of that knowledge made this day any easier.   I'm more than a mess. I'm kind of a wreck and though I know intellectually it will get better, I'm having a hard time believing that in this particular moment.

I put Madelyn down today.    Just a couple of hours ago.    I just finished cuddling her warm relaxed body and handed her off to a nice gentleman who will make sure she is cremated with dignity this afternoon and that the ashes I get will be only hers.    And I'm a blubbering, broken-hearted wreck.   I'm writing at this moment because I don't want to let go quite yet. I don't want to give in to the fatigue I'm feeling from the long night we both endured last night and the emotional drain that seems to be happening as my tears fall.     I don't want to fall asleep because I can't quite accept she's gone yet, and I'm afraid if I fall asleep, I'll wake up in an hour or so and know she really is.   I'll feel it. It will be later and she will be gone. I know she's gone, but she was just here, so it's just not real to me yet.   I don't' want to do anything normal right now because there is nothing normal about my life without that silly dog in it.

I know most dog owners understand. So many of you have sent me condolences, encouragement, and words of wisdom since I first started talking about her decline.   It still feels silly to be as devastated as I am right now.   I seriously can't find a corner of my house where the void of her absence isn't staring back at me.   It is heart-wrenching silent without the sound of her here.   The jangle of her license tags as she moves. The slurping noises of her getting a drink of water.   The click, click, click of her walking across the wood floors. The rhythmic breathing of her napping wherever I have settled for any amount of time.

That silly dog has been a pain in the ass over the years.   A serious pain in the ass.   She's ran away a dozen times at least and had me on the brink of feeling like I do right now, until I got a phone call telling me she was visiting patrons at a local restaurant, car dealership, or backyard barbecue.
Sometimes she'd just show up at the back door and bark to come in like she really hadn't done more than go outside to do her business in her own backyard.   And often she'd return to me with the horrible stench of whatever she had found along her journey that somehow to her seemed worthy of rolling around in until she was covered with it.

She's ruined carpets, cost me a pretty penny in babysitting fees, and made it virtually impossible for me to leave the house without hair on my clothes. She made me question whether chocolate really is all that toxic to all dogs.   That happened when she ate several pounds of See's Candy Nuts and Chews that had been wrapped under the Christmas tree.   Maybe it was the beef jerky, dried fruit and nuts she consumed with it that balanced her out.

Certainly the last year has been challenging with her cancer diagnosis and the options I chose to pursue in the hopes of keeping her around a little longer with me.   Life with Madelyn has been a rocky road at times.   Life with Madelyn has also made some rocky roads manageable.   She was my nurturer through heartaches that had nothing to do with her.   She was a comic relief when life tiltled toward the stressful side now and then.   Most importantly, she was my lone companion through moves to new cities, new jobs and new homes.   She rolled with it all and never complained about being attached to a career-oriented owner.

Madelyn has been my constant in times of transition, and now that I find myself in yet another one, I'm not liking the thought of not having her with me for whatever is next.   I feel like I need her should I end up in a new, unexplored city.   I feel like I need her if I stick around in the one I'm now acquainted with.   She helped me find my way here.   When I didn't know a soul and felt long weekends of no plans ahead of me, I walked in my front door to a dog eager to lead me out and about to check things out.   I may not have had the company of another human being for those days, but I was not alone.   Madelyn led me to parks and places I may not have explored so soon had she not been such an eager accomplice.   I can't imagine walking Lake Calhoun without her.   I can't imagine sitting on a grassy stretch of any park to read or write without her lying next to me.   Truth is, I can't imagine life as I know it, without her.

I know it sounds silly to a lot of folks, but that's how it is with dogs. They sneak up on you. You realize you love them. You realize you'd miss them if they were gone. But you have no real sense of how much of a presence they are in your daily comings and goings until they're no longer there.   These creatures, who never speak a word to you verbally, leave a gut-wrenching silence behind.    And if you find yourself in the place where you have to help your friend move on, it's one of those times you'd love for them to be able to use words, and know they understand every single one of yours.

I told Madelyn this afternoon how much she meant to me. I told her how grateful I was for her being in my life. I thanked her for the times she licked my tears away, and how much I appreciated her companionship when I needed it.   I apologized for the times she spent alone when I was off chasing stories instead of her.   Or when I was out on the lake instead of walking her beside one.   And I told her how much I was going to miss her.   I believe Madelyn understand a lot of what I said to her over the years, but I wanted to know today she understand it all.

Maybe that's why I'm writing now. I somehow feel if I write put it out there for the world to read, she'll hear more of it too.   I appreciate all of you who have read this far for indulging me in my pity party today.   I know I'll get over this.   I know the pain will ease with time.   I know I won't stay a mess forever.   I just hope Madelyn knows how incredibly grateful I was and am for the time she spent with me.   And how much I am wishing that time was longer right now.   I give just about anything for a little more time with her, minus her pain.   I miss you like you can't believe you silly girl.

Give it a Break

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:45 GMT

Wednesay, Sept 2nd, 2009

I can't believe summer is winding down.   I hate this time of year. I mean, I love it, but it's such melancholy time of year.   Especially this year when summer has been cool and short in Minnesota.   I love fall, but I just haven't had enough of summer.   And even if we had a long hot summer, I think I'd still feel this way.

I just returned from a couple of nice little getaways.   One back home to California to spend some time with family and old friends. The second one up to a friend of a friend's cabin on Madeline Island. (I've wanted to go since I first moved here and I'm so glad I had the opportunity to this year!) He gets access to the place this same weekend every year, but this is the first I haven't been tied down to the State Fair and could go along.

Anyway, on both trips I had little lessons on letting go. I'm not talking about letting go of the past, or of old wounds or of the basement full of junk I dread sorting through should I end up moving anytime soon. I'm talking about letting go of the strings that bind us.   I'm talking about computers, and cell phones, and texts, and twitters and all the things we all also need to embrace to function successfully in the society in which we live today.

What I think we're all going to have to learn, however, is how to balance the benefits of these tools of social and business communication, and the ways they simply drive us crazy.   I have at times felt a little "unbalanced" when the lines of communication start strangling me.   I feel like I'm choking and can't catch my breath. There is always another line ringing, an e-mail waiting for my response, a blog that needs writing...you get the idea.

So what happened to me in two different ways the last few weeks has been a nice lesson.    First, when I was in California, I was reminded quickly of the law that's been put into place out there since I left that prohibits talking on your cell phone when you're driving.   I admit it.   Try as I might to start a cell-phone-free-program-while-driving, I am as successful at it as I am cutting out carbs in my life.   I do real well for awhile, until some double cheese pizza passes my way.    Eventually some really important phone call comes in and I just have to take it.

But I almost got busted while driving and chatting.   It was innocent. I forgot about the law, but the cop likely wouldn't have cared had he noticed me talking before my friend warned me about the law as we were approaching the intersection he was stopped at.    I dropped the phone mid conversation and kept on driving.    It was a close one.   But it was also a challenge every single time I got into the car not to pick up the phone and get some biz done during my to and froms.   I even invested in a fancy new blue-tooth hands free gadget, but couldn't figure it out well enough to make it handy before I headed back to Minneapolis.

What happened during that time is that I paid attention to what I was doing.   I noticed the speed limit.   And maybe more importantly, in my mind at least, I noticed the landscape I was driving through.   I noticed the oaks on the dry hillsides around me and how the sun turned that parched terrain a rich golden color right around dusk that made it look less desperate for water. I noticed the way the sun created those millions of diamond sparkles on the pacific as I cruised toward Shell Beach.   I listened to the radio and took a little sentimental journey through my memories when I head a song that reminded me of a time gone by in my life.     I disengaged from the noise of "staying in touch" and engaged with my present moment.   It was kind of liberating.   Even if I did have to deal with some "where have you been? I've been trying to get in touch with you" questions from folks.

I got back to a lot of catch up work to be done, but I was focused and plowed through a lot in just a day or two.   Then I hit the road for Madeline Island.   We stayed in a wonderful cabin right on Lake Superior.   It was as comfy and came with abundant views, books, and hideaway spots.   And there were two things missing that made it even better: No T.V. and no reliable cell service.   I was there with a group of friends I don't get to spend enough time with, and since none of us could rely on our cell phones, we often just left them in our bedrooms. And since we couldn't put on a movie or watch some silly reality show in the evenings, we talked, laughed, played games and engaged with each other.   And if we got tired during the day, we took naps.   It was wonderful.

I don't know the family who owns the cabin, but I'm told they are very successful, professionally and financially. They clearly could afford to deck that place out with every electronic gadget and video game some hearts could desire.   But they are smart enough not to.   They have a place to escape to when the soul needs needs one.   They have a place to watch the world go by, and see the beauty in each moment that passes, simply because they were left with few enough distractions to notice.

Most of us know the value in that, but few of us create the environment in our lives for it. So I challenge you in these waning days of summer, to pick one task to simply focus on.   Whether it's driving without dialing, holding a conversation with someone without checking your cell or blackberry once during conversation or eating a meal without watching T.V. or reading a book.   It's an absolutely gorgeous day outside and I think we're in for or a few more throughout the weekend.  So let's try to soak up as many magic moments as we can!

Cheers friends!

Words of Wisdom

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:44 GMT

Tuesday, August 26th, 2009

Today is my dad's birthday. (Happy Birthday Dad!)   He's getting older and loves to talk about that a lot these days.   Actually, he's talked about it for most of my adult life. He is not a man who has trouble letting go of his youth.   I think, rather, that he's enjoyed the perks that come with age. It seems with every year he adds to his resume, he feels free to let go of something.

For as long as I can remember, he's always wanting a new truck. A few years ago, he quit talking about that, deciding he really didn't use it that much anymore and really didn't see the need in having something shiny and new.   (In fact, when I encouraged him to turn his old beauty in in the recent Cash For Clunkers program, he kind of chuckled, asking me why he'd want to take on a new car payment when the white GMC sitting in his driveway gets him everywhere he needs to go.)   A few years ago, he gave up his usual "cowboy shirts" and started wearing crew neck t-shirts. I think he realized they're more comfortable and better for the heat of summer in California anyway. And he'll even leave the house occasionally in athletic shoes, instead of his cowboy boots, although its still a rarity.    I'm thinking he's like the freedom that comes with old age; to do whatever you want, whenever you want.

He just turned 77.   And I'd say he's a pretty darned healthy 77.   He still hits the gym 3 times a week, loves his steak and potatoes, and keeps up with current events and politics.   He's a smart guy and can bottom line a situation better than most people I know.   I don't always agree with his bottom line, but he's usually got a pretty good logic behind his position.    In fact, as much as I've butted heads with good old Dad over the years, his words of wisdom ring in my ears constantly when they are appropriate to a situation.   Dance with who brung ya'.   You can't go to every horse and pony show in town.   You should never leave the house without a little "walkin' around money" in your pocket so you can pay your own way.

And it was another "Ted-ism" that went through my mind last week when I was finding myself decompressing along the Central Coast.   It didn't matter I was running around trying to see too many people in too short of a time, or that I stayed up too late too many nights catching up with those old friends. I still felt rested, relaxed, and ready to take a new look at what's next after my visit.    It's like Dad always said "A change of scenery will do you wonders".

I return to Minneapolis with as many things up in the air as I did when I left, but maybe with a bit of a different perspective.   And that's never a bad thing in my book.   It's why I'm no longer jealous of these young college kids who get to travel abroad for a semester before they head out into the real world. And why I will always try to hit the road or the friendly skies fairly frequently.   It doesn't have to be a big trip, but just a little escape from the normal routine. It really will do you wonders. And I'm glad my change of scenery included a few days with Good Old Dad, and another dose of his words of wisdom.   Happy Birthday Dad.    Thanks to you and Mom for the nice visit.

P.S. My apologies to you great friends who pay a visit now and then to this blog.   I took a little vacation from writing as well last week.   I promise to try to get back on schedule and I will post some pictures from my California Adventure in the coming days.

No Place Like Home

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:43 GMT

Saturday, August 15th, 2009

There's No Place Like Home

I believe Dorothy had it right. I really do. When I get back to California, and I put my feet in the Pacific, it feels like home. I am reminded of a million other times I've waded, ran, sat and surfed in the chilly salty water as it hits the shoreline.   There is a sense of release in the next breath that I exhale. I'm home. Everything is alright.   I feel grounded instantly.   No matter how long I've been away, it always feels the same to me.   And for so many years, the feeling I get when I'm here, came with an ache to get back.  I'm realizing on this trip, though, that there is some confusion in that word....home.

Certainly, my roots are here.   It is where I was born.   It's where my parents, and brother and his family live. It is where my high-school friends, and college friends, and been-though-thick-and-thin friends live.   When I moved away to take a job in Iowa, I had no intentions of being gone so long.   But new contracts came with better money, and so I signed another couple of years away. And then another couple. And now, I'm a bit unsettled with how long it's been.

I'm here for a reunion.   I am seeing people I haven't seen in years and as we sat around and reminisced last night, we were all kind of blown away when we started doing the math.   "Has it really been that long?" we asked each other when we were trying to figure out the last time we connected.

This weekend is a gathering of people who started their television careers here in the small market of San Luis Obispo.   Some of us has moved away for other jobs.   Some left the business and moved on to something more conducive to a family and financial security, And a few have figured out a way to make it work at the very station where we all started.   And that left many of us asking each other "So tell me again why we ever left?" as we sipped Edna Valley Chardonnay on a beautiful patio overlooking the ocean.   (We savored the wine and the view they no doubt take for granted having access to both on a daily basis.)

There's something about the place from which you came. Not everyone who was there last night was born in San Luis Obispo, but this was the place they grew up.   We grew up.   It is where we all started in the business, and made our mortifying mistakes on air (thank goodness in a pre-Youtube era).  Most of us qualified for assistance with our energy bills because were making so little money.   But we were having a blast re-living it all last night with tale after tale of live-shots gone bad, missed camera cues, and interviews and stories we'll never forget.   These people are part of my past, and consequently part of who I am today.

And that's what you miss when you move away.   You miss your roots.   California really isn't my "home" anymore.   I still say "I'm going home to California" when I head this way, but I live in Minneapolis.   I have a home in Minneapolis. I have a wonderful circle of friends and a life in Minneapolis. And I would miss it all dearly if I left.  But what I don't have in Minneapolis, are the people who watched me grow up. And it's a wonderful pleasure to get some time with them this week and in the process revert a little bit to the silly girl we were all telling stories about last night.

There are times when I wonder why I left....home that is. But then I think of the people and adventures I would have missed out on had I not. It's kind of like Dorothy and the yellow brick road.   Had she never ventured down it, she never would have met the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion. And she would have missed the lessons they had to offer her.   But she also learned how good it was to see Aunt Em and the gang when she returned, and how there really is no place like home.

Ding Dong

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:41 GMT

August 6th, 2009

The Rumors are true. I have found a new gig. Don't be turning on the T.V to see where I've landed.   It's not that kind of gig.   It's the kind of gig that prompts a few giggles from a lot of folks I know and love, and I'm sure many I don't know, or do know and don't particularly love. I've thrown caution to the wind and signed on as an Arbonne consultant.  http://arbonne.com/   Think Avon Lady, the next generation. If you haven't heard of Arbonne, it's a company that sells botanically based skin care and health and wellness products. (And since I'm officially a "consultant", if you haven't hear of it, we should probably talk...)

You should have heard the support I got when I informed my boyfriend, my father and a few former co-workers close to me what I was up to.   Let's just say the first words out of their mouths weren't "How do I place an order?".    They've since jumped on my bandwagon of support but my dad still can't resist leaving calling me the Avon Lady http://tinyurl.com/ktmqw5 or leaving me sarcastic, yet funny little messages in the highest pitched voice he can muster wondering if he could order some more of those "lip ices" he so loves, and maybe a new deodorant stick or two and then laughing hysterically at himself as he tells me to call him. (Arbonne doesn't sell deodorant of any kind by the way, but they do sell lip balms.)

So why am I subjecting myself to this public ridicule?   I don't know for sure.  I've never sold anything before, and I've certainly never had an interest in doing so.   But I'm living an experiment this summer of trying to simply follow my gut in as many decisions as possible. From what to order in a restaurant, to taking or not-taking a job, to signing up to sell Arbonne. I bought a used scooter on an impulse, and the wife of the guy I bought it from sold Arbonne and threw it out there as a possibility. My first reaction was "why not?"   I'd used the products for a couple of years, and at the very least, the discount I'd get as a consultant would be a nice little perk.  But before I knew it, I was hosting an Arbonne Party, and 6 weeks later I'm still planning more and starting to think maybe this is something I could work on as a Plan B, should I ever find myself gainfully employed, and then unemployed again.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think selling lotions, potions and a lovely line of make-up is going to help me keep the house or replace the income or status I enjoyed as a "news anchor" any time soon, but you know what? It's kind of fun.   I love the products and trying a bunch I didn't know existed. And it's keeping me busy during a time when I need not sit around and dwell on all the unknowns in my life.  It's also given me reason to connect with people. I've been having friends and former colleagues over to my place for the last month for Arbonne Parties, and it's been great to see them, socialize and sit around and talk about something other than the troubled times of television or what I am going to do next. I have no idea.

So while I continue to explore all opportunities, and go with my gut, I'm pitching a product for the first time in my life. I'll let you know if I start making any real money with it.   Or if I start having regrets. In the meantime, if you're looking for a really good skin care line, or are interested in trying your own hand at a "Plan B", let me know.... Ding Dong!

Enjoy this incredibly comfortable summer afternoon.

Timing is Everything

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:39 GMT

August 3rd, 2009

We're all learning a lot about timing these days. We're feeling the pain of not guessing it right...in business, in housing, in job opportunities that are or aren't there all due to the timing.    It seems I'm weighing the timing factor a lot lately.   And it's all stressful because, of course, timing is a guessing game.  It's difficult to know for sure when the timing is right.   And even if we think it might be, are we ready to acknowledge it and make a move?
And what if we're not?

I'm not. I thought I would be, but I'm simply not. Most of you who have read my blogs when I wrote them for WCCO know I've been dealing with an aging dog battling cancer for about 9 months now.   http://wcco.com/pets/pet.health.crisis.2.869919.html We have both been through a lot in our attempts to get the upper hand, and for the most part, I feel we have.   Madelyn is still around. She still loves to go for walks.   She ambles along slowly these days, but a lot of times, I still have to fight her to turn around and head back home.   She seems more fascinated with every tree, every bush, every smell than she has in her whole life.   I sometimes wonder if she's feeling like she may not pass this way again and wants to savor every minute. She still has her appetite and has actually gotten pretty bossy about getting treats when she wants them.    I started spoiling her when I brought her back from surgery thinking she may not be around for long, but 9 months later she's learned she can just bark and howl long enough, and I'll give in and head to the doggie cookie jar.   She throws her head and pounces her front paws as she sees me heading in the right direction.

So, life is actually pretty good for us these days, all things considered.   She may be winding down, and I may be out of work, but we're getting some quality time together to help each other through the process.   I am enjoying the fact I have time to take her for walks myself instead of paying someone to check on her during the day.

Over the last few months, I thought I had come to terms with the fact, her days are numbered. And I have. I really have.   But figuring out just what that number is, is proving harder than I thought.

I promised myself I would never let her suffer should I start to feel like she was uncomfortable.  If she stopped eating or didn't want to go for walks, or couldn't get up anymore, I would know it was time. I would not let this beautiful dog, who has been my companion through 13 years lose her dignity. I felt confident and I guess I still do, that she'll let me know when she is ready.  But frankly I don't believe she is, and I know I'm not.

It is, however, getting hard on the both of us.  She's starting to do the things I thought for sure would be enough to signal it's getting time. I'm talking about the occasional stumble as she moves down the patio steps.   Or the fact she'll sleep until noon or longer if I let her.   Or maybe most disturbing, the fact the little rug she sleeps on is wet some mornings and she's still sleeping there on it. That's not my Madelyn.   And yet, all I can seem to be strong enough to do, is a lot of laundry and cuddle her and take her out to let her do her duty with dignity when she's awake.

I'm just not ready. I have family and friends who I am confident believe I should be.   But I'm not. I'm just not. And how can I be when I see her bounce down the stairs (albeit slowly) in the morning when she does finally rise. Or when she does her treat dance when she hears the cookie jar or refrigerator open. Or when she eagerly follows the little neighbor girls to their place when they ask if "Madelyn can come play over at their house for awhile?" I know it's coming, but I just don't think it's quite time yet. And until we're both ready, right or wrong, I'll just be doing a little extra laundry and cutting her some slack. It's not easy growing old and it's not easy watching someone or some being you love do it either.

Counting the Losses

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:38 GMT

July 29th, 2009
It's everywhere. I'm talking about the news reports, and friends telling friends the stories, and first hand accounts of people like me "losing their jobs".   Much of the coverage and talk is about the economic impacts...on those of us who find ourselves out of work, and the economy overall.   If we can't spend or pay our mortgages, well, it has impacts.   So I get why it gets so much attention.

Next, you might hear people talk about the stress of it all.   Story after story is told in the papers and on T.V. about how hard it is to not know how you will manage to keep the house, pay the bills, or see a doctor if you need to.   I get that too.   It's all certainly been on my mind lately.

And then it's the tough job market.   It's not easy finding a new position when most everyone is eliminating them. The future is bleak is a message found everywhere.   It all consumes us. The headlines. The facts. The uncertain future.    It takes up a lot of space in our papers and in our heads. Maybe that's why it just hit me last week what else one loses when they're given their walking papers.

I admit, I haven't watched the news a whole lot lately...at least on the channel I used to work for.   I still like most of the people there, but I just didn't feel the inclination. I now know exactly why.   The other day I was home at 5pm and the channel was where it was when I turned it on.   So, I decided to go ahead and stay tuned.   I watched the top stories of the day and felt a little pang to be watching the newscast I anchored for the last 4 years from my couch..   And then a very familiar and friendly face joined the crew on the set.     This former colleague is someone I consider more than that...I consider them a pal.  We talked every day when I was working there. We shared laughs, frustrations and even personal dramas now and then when they were serious enough to prompt the other to ask "You okay? You don't seem like yourself today."   I realized as I was watching this person on my television that I hadn't talked to them since the week I was let go.   I began to cry.

I lost so much more than my job.   I lost friends.   Okay, maybe we're still friends, but I certainly lost that daily interaction with people I care deeply about. I lost easy contact with people I simply formed an affectionate acquaintance with over four years. We may not have even hung out a lot outside work because our lives were too busy for that, but we chatted in the green room, in the hallway heading in opposite directions, in the car on a way to a story, or at our desks when one of us passed by the other's and took the time to stop and just say hi.   And it's not as easy to fire off an e-mail when the company address book doesn't fill the in blanks for you when you start to type their name into the address window.

I lost so much more than a paycheck. I lost my life as I knew it.   And I wasn't ready for that.   Few of us "on the beach" these days were. It may be a struggle figuring out the finances and our future, but eventually we will.   What I am not sure we will figure out is how to recapture that personal interaction we once enjoyed with our co-workers, and lost the day we were shown the door.   Coming to terms with the fact those relationships as we knew them are over may be the hardest part of losing a job.

Big Brother

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:37 GMT

Big Brother
Monday, July 20th, 2009
I'm not talking about the T.V. show that airs on the network I once worked for.   I'm talking about the real deal.   Big Brother watching your every move.   I know it's the world we live in and technology makes it ever so easy to do, but does that mean we should be?

I remember my Dad being mesmerized (and truthfully a bit unnerved) that the little GPS contraption I had hooked up in my car could steer us home after getting lost on a sight-seeing adventure in northern Minnesota.   "That just boggles my mind it can know where you are, and what you are approaching at any given moment." he said.   I thought, and still do think, GPS devices are among the greatest gadgets in the world.   For those of you who have lived your whole life in Minnesota, it may seem unneccesary, but try being the new girl in town trying to navigate her way through streets interrupted by lakes in every neighborhood, late for the Rotary Club meeting at which you are supposed to be the featured speaker. Stress.

I got my first GPS device after being about 40 minutes late to one of those speaking engagements.   I was drenched in sweat from the nerves, my car littered with maps and hand written directions, and scribbled phone numbers of people I had hoped might be able to help me.   I drove right from the lunch meeting to Best Buy and picked up the best model they had.   It's been my friend in foreign territory ever since.

But I saw a side of the technology I didn't really like this week.    I have a neighbor who works for the United States Postal Service. At one point, she was the one who delivered my mail when I lived at another address.     She is one of those people who will go above and beyond her job description to make sure the letters and packages people mean to get to you, do, even if they have messed up a zip code or transcribed a couple of numbers.   She gets to know the people on her route and she uses common sense when things get sorted a little out of order by some machine or human being.   She hustles. She is friendly.   Frankly I was sad when I moved that she wouldn't be my postal carrier anymore. Then I found out I was lucky enough to have moved in right next to her, so now she's my neighbor.

Well, the other day I was walking Madelyn and I saw her come bouncing out of her house around lunchtime. She often comes home to eat and had clearly done so on this day. Her cheeks looked like chipmunks after she had clearly shoved the last few bites of whatever she was having in as she headed out the door. "Howdy!" I yelled as I passed her on her way to her delivery vehicle.     She smiled (with her eyes...her mouth was too full) and pointed at her lips.   "I got it" I said.  "I caught you just as you took a bit of something".    I kind of expected the short passing banter that neighbors in Minnesota tend to enjoy once she managed to swallow her last bite.   When she could finally get the words out of her mouth, I couldn't get out a response.

"They installed these new GPS systems in our vehicles, so we have to stick to the minute on our half-hour lunch breaks."   She didn't even break stride as she explained and rushed to get into her car and on her way to the rest of her route.   And off she went.   No neighborly banter. No chance to chew and savor whatever it is she had thrown together for lunch that day.   No time for anything but stress.

I get it. I get that people with jobs outside the office take a little too many liberties at times.   And no doubt there are drivers of all kinds of company vehicles who downright abuse the privilege of not being supervised when they leave the building.   My neighbor isn't one of them. In fact, I'm 99-percent sure there isn't a lazy bone in that woman's body.   Or an unethical one.   So while I fully support companies and agencies tightening things up in these tough economic times and keeping a closer eye on where they're money's going, I find myself feeling a lot like my dad did when he first saw my GPS unit at work; unnerved.

I'm guessing we have some work to do balancing our use of technology to help us find our way when we're lost, and losing our own sense of direction by relying on it too much.    It's a good thing GPS devices save us from having to stop and ask for directions, because the way things are going, no one will have the time or the skills for such personal interaction.

The Power of Prayer

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:35 GMT

The Power of Prayer

July 17, 2009
I'm about to break a cardinal rule of The Big J (Journalism), and talk about something I likely wouldn't be allowed to if I had a job. Maybe so, as this is a blog, and viewers/readers are becoming increasing hip the fact journalists are real people with real beliefs, faiths and thoughts. Even so, I'm not going to go so far as to share all my beliefs with you, but I am going to talk about something I do put a lot of stock in. I'm talking about prayer.

Now don't tune out yet if you aren't the church-going, bible-reading type.   I'm not talking about "Our Father who art in heaven" kind of prayer (necessarily), but simply stepping out of the way now and then.    I'm talking about letting go of things long enough to allow God, or the Universe or whatever Higher Power you can find a little faith in, to take over for awhile.

I was finding myself a little spun-out this week with too many little projects going on, and no clear direction of where any one was taking me.   I started wanting to figure things out NOW. I wanted to know where I was headed next, how work efforts would pay off, how relationships would mend or end, how loved ones would weather their storms, how I'd know "it was time" with Madelyn and her declining health....   I could go on, but you get the idea.

Then I stumbled upon a book I bought a year or so ago and read cover to cover at the time, finding great peace in the process.   I flipped it open again and zeroed in on just a few pages.   The book is called "Illuminata-A Return to Prayer" http://tinyurl.com/kpsern.    It's a non-denominational kind of read. It don't even believe one has to subscribe to any religion to benefit from its guidance.   It's simply a book of prayers for all sorts of human dramas we all take part in at some point in our lives.    As the introduction to the book explains "...there is once again a widespread consideration of spiritual principles as an antidote to the pain of our times.   Like flowers growing up through pieces of broken cement, signs of hope and faith appear everywhere."

So I guess it's a book about spirituality and hope and yes, faith. Not necessarily in a God of choice, but a faith in the forces of good that are available to all of us.   And while not everyone may like to use the term "prayer", I don't think there are many people who aren't looking to tap into some positive energy in the days in which we are all living right now.

I don't aim to convince anyone to buy the book, or buy into such a philosophy. I do know, that for me, simply stopping and acknowledging that I lack the power to control my destiny, and could use a little help to keep the faith that things will turn out just as they are supposed to, results in a better frame of mind and often better results.    That so proved to be the case for me this week after simply reading two prayers from the book and trusting the rest will take care of itself.    It was uncanny how things came together after that.

It's kind of like that old principle "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction".   You can take it down to that...energy.   And I see no harm in doing your best to let go of the bad, .and surround yourself with as much good as possible.

Sending prayers for peace in your lives this week....JT

Little voices

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:33 GMT

Monday, July 13th, 2009

I live next to the cutest little family.   The only thing missing is a white picket fence, and maybe a dog.  But they kind of have Madelyn part-time.   Apparently when I thought Madelyn was just stepping off the back porch to do her business on early winter mornings and cold winter nights, I was wrong.   She was slipping down the street, or across the street and saying hi to the neighbors.    It wasn't until this spring that the perfect little family let me know how often Madelyn just comes and hangs with them.   Most of the time she returned home before I realized she was gone.

I apologized but was told the girls (three of them, picture perfect adorable little toe-head blondes) love having Madelyn visit.   Well, Madelyn is doing less wandering these days.   But she does a lot of lounging out front, and we take more frequent short walks .   We are both enjoying this quality time we've been given together.   And any time I head out with her, or if Madelyn is anywhere in sight, the girls will inevitably yell across the street in their sweet little voices "Can we come pet Madelyn?" "Can we give Madelyn a treat?"   and lately "Can we take Madelyn for a walk?" For so long I'd answer, "well sure, but we need to hurry, because blah blah blah...." I was always in a hurry to get somewhere it seemed.

Today as I was heading out for a quick trip around the block, I was spotted.   Could they come along on the walk? Sure, if it's okay with your Mom.   So off we went,. I didn't get why Mom was instructing them over and over "Now when it's time for Madelyn to come home, you just come home, okay?"   Well what else would they do? I soon learned.    They were just like Madelyn, wanting to go a little farther than I had planned. "Can we just go to the soccer field?"   "Can we go the playground?"   "Can we just go to the beach and get Madelyn a drink?"  I was getting a bit stressed because I didn't plan on being gone this long, and I wasn't dressed for a long hike.  I was beginning to "glow" right through the make-up I had put on for my afternoon appointment.    But how could I say no to those sweet little voices? And then I realized I didn't have to. I had some things I needed to get done, but I was not running late, and in fact, had a little time.   So we walked. And they chatted non-stop and asked every question that crossed their mind, and they talked about how the sand and dirt and grass felt on their bare feet.   It was delightful.

It was a wonderful feeling...to not be on the treadmill of life today.   To have the opportunity to shift the schedule a bit, and soak up a little of summertime through they eyes of two adorable little girls, made me grateful for this time in my life, and for this day.   As I anticipated, Madelyn was tired on the way back and moving slow.   She always wants to go farther than her body is really up for these days.   Apparently it was the same case for my two little companions, because I ended up carrying one, then the other back home when the excitement of the adventure had subsided some heading that direction.

I got home with a tired dog, a white skirt patterned with dusty little foot prints where their legs had rested as they hitched a ride on my hips, and the need for another shower and a new outfit for my meeting. But I had time to get it all done, even with the unplanned summer adventure.  And that, my friends, is one of the wonderful ramifications of this time "on the beach".   Horray for the little voices that brought me big joy today.

Good Question

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:32 GMT

Good Question

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Good Question.

It's what I've been thinking about a lot lately, and it has nothing to do with Jason DeRusha and Joe Berglove who do the great GQ question on WCCO.   I've been thinking about the question presented to me across the desk of a television executive recently.

The question came when I was interviewing for a job out west, closer to the place I come from.   It was a great city, a great station, and a great job.   Oh yeah, and the people who flew me out there couldn't have been nicer.   I liked each an every person I met during my visit, and felt a great connection to those I managed to have some one-one-one time with.  It was a perfect fit.   It gets even better...they offered me the job.

It should have been a no-brainer and I should likely be packing my bags and putting the house on the market.   But here I sit, writing a blog at a coffee shop in the Twin Cities and I won't get a dime for it.   What the heck am I thinking?    I'm thinking about that good question I was asked.

It went like this: "What is it Jeanette Trompeter wants?"   Simple question, really.   And yet not.   I suppose we all spend a fair amount of time thinking about what we want, dreaming about it probably.   I do.   But I for one, have often let reality get in the way.   You gotta make a living, right?
(I was always taught the answer to that question is yes.)  From my first exposure to the industry, I wanted to be a journalist.   For many years I couldn't believe I got paid to do the job (and truthfully, I barely was getting paid to do it for the first half of my career.)   But at some point, I realized I needed to make a living, and I wasn't giving up journalism, so I gave up my hometown in California instead.   I packed up my worldly possessions in my little Toyota and headed for Des Moines, Iowa.

I didn't move to Des Moines because it's where I wanted to live.   I moved there because I got a great job offer.   And I stayed because I got another...a raise that made buying furniture and settling in some seem like a reasonable thing to do.   I made friends, discovered the magic of fireflies, the sweet goodness of Iowa sweetcorn, and became an Iowa Cyclone fan.   I got a dog. and for the most part, I had a great time there.   But I was working nights, again.   And when I took a job with Better Homes and Gardens Television, I was working weekends, and vacations too. I have no complaints.    It helped me dig myself out of the debt built up during those early low-paying years.   I bought a house.  I bought a new car. I even discovered what "disposable income" was.   That's fulfilling in and of itself for a girl who wasn't used to being financially comfortable.

And then a bigger and better offer came from the Twin Cities. Wrong direction. I had always planned on heading back home for the next gig. But this was a great opportunity. Intentional or not, I had planted some roots in Iowa, and painful as it was, I ripped them up and headed north.   You just can't pass up certain opportunities for growth.   But it always comes with growing pains.   I didn't know a soul when I moved here, and though I was smitten with the beauty of the Twin Cities, and the entertainment opportunities, I had only Madelyn (my dog) to help me explore it all.  My first year in Minnesota was a lonely one.

Of course it changed. I once again made friends, bought a house, and began to find my place in this new environment.   I loved my job, my co-workers and my life here. I still love my life here.    But you gotta make a living, right?   So when I lost my job, my agent and I began the immediate search for a new one.   And I've been fortunate to land some interviews.   There has been very little downtime during my stint "on the beach", and that is a mixed blessing.

Because when the question was uttered "What is it Jeanette Trompeter wants", I was unprepared with a solid answer.    And in the days that followed, I realized this was a time in my life I really wanted to take some time to figure that out.   So I took a leap of faith, and passed on a dream job out west and am opting to take a closer look at what I want my dream life to look like.

So that is what I'm up to these days.   I can't take too long to figure it out, but I am fortunate enough to be able to buy a little time.   And while losing my job was heartbreaking, I do feel grateful for this chance to hit pause, and quite literally explore my options. It doesn't come without anxiety, but I do feel like this is a magic time in my life, and I'm confident it will all work out.   And maybe the next time I'm asked a really good question, I'll be better prepared with a really honest and well-thought out answer.

Beach Party

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:30 GMT

7/6/09
Beach Party
You know, there is a heck of a gathering happening on the beach today, and it has nothing to do with the 4th of July, or even summertime.   I knew it was happening, but I had no idea how big of a party it was until I was officially invited.   Trust me, you don't need to feel left out if you haven't received your invitation.   In fact, you probably want to feel pretty grateful about it.

For those who haven't heard the term "I'm on the beach", it's used a lot, at least in my industry, as a way to say "I'm unemployed".   I've heard it uttered by news directors and managers over the years, and it's usually not uttered in a very positive tone.   It usually carries a hint of pity, or sarcasm, or even excitement if the person is someone of interest.   There's always the likelihood the "beached" might be snapped up at bargain prices in their desperation.

Now, I'm one of those people "on the beach".   It's a weird experience.   Of course it's unnerving, scary and stressful, but one thing it doesn't seem to be as much of these days, is embarrassing.   I can't believe how much company, good company, I have with me looking for seashells.   Because I work in television, my "departure" from my job was well publicized and people know I've added to recent unemployment numbers.   What I'm finding out is how many others I know are too.

Every single day I talk to someone who shares their story of being "let go" or maybe worse yet, losing their business.    If they still have a job, it's getting harder and harder for them to say they're "gainfully" employed, when they venture into talk of how business has been lately. And it's hardly uncommon to talk to someone in the process, or facing the possibility of losing their home.   It seems the shame of having things go south has been stripped away in this "new economy" in which we are now living.

I know these are troubled times. And I'm not saying it's an even trade-off by any means,but frankly...I find it kind of refreshing that the superficiality of life as we knew it has gone by the wayside to a certain degree.   When people ask neighbors, friends and acquaintances "how ya' doing these days?" I believe they're genuinely interested in the answer.   And if they ask it of someone who's unemployed, it's not with an aura of silent superiority but a sense of empathy, because so few feel immune to fallout of our economic woes.

I like that people are talking openly about their concerns and troubles, rather than bragging about their latest purchase or investment returns.   I like that people are bragging about the great purse they found at the second-hand store for a couple bucks, rather than showing off their latest designer bag. I love that "keeping up with the Joneses" has gone by the wayside.

We've all heard our struggles make us stronger....that troubled times often tend to bring people together.  I know we'd all like things to be different these days, but I think that when we finally do reach the other side of this "economic downturn", we may look back at this time and see there was some good that came of it.    Or maybe I've just had too much think-time here "on the beach".

Hand tough my friends. This too shall pass.

JT

P.S. It was an iffy weather-weekend, but I managed to find some sunshine and smiles on the lake this weekend.

David was thrilled JT felt comfortable enough to take the wheel with all her weekday boat time so he could kick back and relax for a change.

And a little drizzle and overcast skies proved perfect for grillmaster and neighbor Tom to prepare his annual 4th of July rib-fest.

Seize the day!

Happy Birthday America

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:29 GMT

7/3/09
Happy Birthday America.

That's what my silly friend has been going around saying to everyone all weekend. It's the truth, but it sounds funny when she says it.   It's 4th of July weekend, Independence Day, the high point of summer.   Whatever you want to call it, it's one of my favorite weekends of the year, but it comes with mixed emotions.

On the very superficial side, it's the weekend we celebrate all that is summer; barbecues, boating, swimming, sunburns and fireworks.   But it also marks the middle of the season we all seem to love here in Minnesota.   Like it or not, we're going to be seeing summer clearance sales, and fall preview catalogues arriving in the mail soon.   Maybe even back-to-school sales.   What's up with that?! Don't ruin my party with the thought that summer could already be winding down. It hasn't even really gotten started. It makes me mad because I don't want to think about anything but flip flops and tank tops and warm summer evenings right now, okay?   Especially since I think there have been maybe two nights that you could comfortably sit outside with the summer attire on so far. See what I mean? Mixed emotions.

Then there's the angst that comes with the history behind the holiday.    Independence, and the price paid for it. We will light fireworks, eat and drink too much, and do it all in the name of the price our forefathers paid for the right to do so.   And I'm all for it. But I can't help but think about the men and women still paying; the ones who would love to feel the chill of a Minnesota summer evening about now, as they swelter in the heat of the desert.   And the families who will do their best to continue the 4th of July traditions this weekend, while dealing with the void of someone missing from the celebration.   It's hard enough knowing their loved one is in a war zone...even harder for those who know their loved one isn't anymore, and yet, still won't be coming home.   Like I said, mixed emotions.

So, while I'm bummed the weather isn't exactly cooperating with my weekend plans on the lake, it's really not a big deal in the whole scheme of things.   It's 4th of July weekend, and there is plenty to feel lighthearted and happy about.   I just hope everyone takes a moment or several throughout the weekend to honor the mixed emotions that come with this summer holiday.   I'm off to buy hot dogs for the grill and ice for the cooler.

Happy Birthday America.   Happy 4th of July weekend my friends!

Hello Friends

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:28 GMT

7/1/09
Hello Friends.

JT is stepping out of the privacy cave I've been living in the last three months and putting this domain name I've been paying for to some sort of use.    So, welcome to jeanettetrompeter.com.   I'm not sure what exactly it is, or will be, but we will start with it as a place for me to start blogging again.   I am flattered and appreciative of those of you who have visited my facebook page and let me know you actually read the one I did for WCCO and that you kind of miss it.

When I do venture out and about the first thing I get asked is "What are you up to these days?" or some version of that.    I have not taken a new job anywhere yet, but am interviewing and throwing the net out wide to see what's out there.    I'm grateful to know that while the job market is tough, there are opportunities.    The question becomes, which ones fits you and what do you want to do next?   There's where I'm struggling a bit.

It's been a challenging few months.    I wasn't exactly expecting to be out of a job when I was let go, so it's been a bit of an adjustment period for me.    There's a little joke I've heard and often repeated: "Want to crack God up?   Tell Him your plans."   That's a little how I've felt lately.   This isn't how I thought I'd be spending my spring and summer of '09, but I also realize just because things don't go as we planned, doesn't mean they aren't going as they should be.

I know there are many folks out there like me...wondering what's next.   Will I be able to sell my house for what I owe on it?   Can I stomach another move across the country? What about Madelyn (or the kids for those of you who have them)?   These are uncertain times and a lot of us are dealing with the consequences of that.

So until I know for sure what's next, I'm riding that collective wave of uncertainty with the rest of you.   I'm finding it's both unnerving and a bit of an adventure.  And on days like this, when it's the afternoon before a three-day weekend, I find it so exciting that I'm not doing the 5 O'clock news tonight and can actually join the masses heading out on their fun adventures a little early.

In the coming weeks, I'll share some of the stories of the last few months...the ups and the downs.

Right now, I have to learn how to work this thing.   Be patient.   I promise to keep you posted on "what I'm up to these days" and share any big news as soon as there is some to tell.

Blog

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:26:20 GMT