What, you might ask does Martha Stewart have to do with my move to the desert? It has nothing to do with her interior design empire. I am not planing  to decorate our new house in faux Connecticut style, if I can’t have a real house in Greenwich, I don’t want to pretend I am there. Oops, she lives in Katonah, NY, my apologies to Greenwich.

It has to do with serving your time with grace. I am not a big fan of Ms. Stewart, I think she is very talented and business savvy, but from all accounts a hard taskmaster to work for and who can possibly like anyone who is perfect at everything! Okay, so I am little jealous.

What I do admire about her is the way she handled her incarceration, no appeals. no delaying tactics. She just wanted to get through it and move on. She didn’t mope in her cell/room, she taught classes, worked in the library, probably baked cookies and crafted new seat covers for the dining hall. She pulled herself up by her boot straps and did her time.

So until I get over my homesickness and my lack of routine and my general lack of interest in my surroundings, I must press on. My sane, organized, ambitious self tells me this is the perfect chance to devote more time to this blog. Take a page from Martha’s book and turn lemons into lemonade. Actually observe a great many different stages of aging and what really separates the people who stay engaged in life, from the people who lose themselves as they age and accept that their world is going to shrink and make peace with that.

I should discipline myself to write every morning. Put together a motivational presentation on “remaining relevant in a youth obsessed culture”, using all my wonderful speaking training from Weight Watchers. Work on a website for related products and do everything that I was so enthusiastic about in Los Angeles, I am only a scant 120 miles from LA, not on the other side of the world. It just doesn’t feel the same here, I see why the average New Yorker, who moves to LA complains about the pace of life in California.

However, my other side just wants to go home or at least just get into my bed and pull the covers over my head and wait for our years lease to be up. My husband chose this place in the desert, thinking I could make new friends here and develop new interests, but what do you do if you liked your old place and your old interests. I hate change and I am not sure that I want to start all over again.

I hope I can find a way to adjust to a new lifestyle or turn all these new experiences into gist for my blogging mill.