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I’m not the most technologically adept 50-something on the planet.  Updates, back-end web design, coding, and sometimes just searching for an old email, are a few examples that stand my hair straight up!  If you’re like me and find yourself less than pulled together when technical difficulties arise on computer devices…can we agree to spell it: s.t.r.e.s.s. Techies might say: so, what’s the big deal?  Just learn whatever needs to be done, figure it out.  Problem solved.  Ya right, easy for you to say. But, it’s actually true!  And, it’s a practice applicable to healthy living: be able and willing to learn; be teachable; stress less.  Remaining teachable throughout life is biblical to boot!  If you throw a little patience in the mix, well then you have a delectable icing on the learned cake.  In other words, you can do just about anything and be stress-free. All this brings me to Savanna and Diana’s first blogs (you can find them on the home page).  They were both about stress.  I can’t fully remember if I was “stressed out” in the ’80s when I was their ages.  If I had to guess I would say, not.  Again, maybe I’m not remembering correctly.  Millennials seem to be more stressed out than baby boomers were.  If this is true, it makes me sad. I took the following excerpt from one of Rick Warren’s Daily Hope passages.  It’s called Three Effects of a Teachable Spirit, 2017: “When you’re learning how to be humble, you have to be willing to listen, learn, and grow and be open to suggestions and corrections from other people. You don’t know it all, and you can’t act like you know it all, either! Here are a few reasons why you need to have a teachable, humble spirit: 1. You’ll be more likable. The Bible says in Proverbs 15:12, “Conceited people do not like to be corrected; they never ask for advice from those who are wiser” (GNT). Pride, at its root, is insecurity. You may be afraid that you’ll show that you really don’t know much, but you’ll be more likable if you’re open to teaching. 2. You’ll be wiser. Proverbs 15:32 says, “If you reject discipline, you only harm yourself; but if you listen to correction, you grow in understanding” (NLT). Humble people are always learning because they’re open to correction. Everybody’s ignorant, just on different subjects. That’s why two heads are better than one. You don’t have time in life to learn everything from personal experience. It’s wiser to learn from the experience of others. The way to do that is by learning to ask questions. 3. You’ll have less conflict. Proverbs 13:10a says, “Pride only leads to arguments” (NCV). This is the first verse that Kay and I memorized after we got married. We actually memorized it on our honeymoon because we needed it on our honeymoon. Anytime you get in an argument, you can know that pride is rearing its ugly head. But when you approach a situation with humility, you’ll have less conflict in your relationships. In many ways, when it comes to humility, God wants us to be like little children. Why? Because children are teachable. They’re open to learning. They’re eager to learn. They’re not defensive. They don’t say, “I don’t need to learn to walk. I don’t need to learn to talk. You can’t teach me anything about reading.” When you think about this brief life vs. eternal life and that we all have a straight shot to live eternally by acknowledging and accepting what God’s son sacrificed for us, what is there to be stressed about.  Humility and being teachable essentially kiss stress good-bye. Like most conundrums, we’re left with a choice and that’s a good thing.  Will you humble yourself, or will you choose arrogance and prideful denial?  Will you be disciplined and teachable or loosey goosey and defiant?  Will you pray for it?  Or complain about it? “In times of stress, the best thing we can do for each other is to listen with our ears and our hearts and to be assured that our questions are just as important as our answers.” ~ Fred Rogers, The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember I’m always eager to learn about health, exercise, supplements, skin care, fashion, travel, and all fun things that cost too much money, but I struggle with things that aren’t my forte, like technology.  I’ve learned a lot while setting up this website and, I must say, the smallest of conquered problems have brought great satisfaction.  I learned. You’re (everyone!) talented, energetic, and precious.  Be teachable (child-like) and humble.  IMHO, humility is the single most striking, beauty attribute.  The cool thing is, anyone can have beauty in humility, but few do.  Humbleness takes time and soul searching.  I wish it was “popular,”  How bright it would shine!  There’d be thousands (hundreds of thousands!) of calm, cool, collected people who appreciated learning what they don’t know.  Braggers and boasters would be rare.  We’d be a society of calm, less stressed people who were more sure of ourselves. This is a great link from Rick Warren’s Daily Hope: (2016): http://pastorrick.com/devotional/english/how-do-gentleness-and-humility-reduce-stress.  He says, “You probably don’t realize it, but the two biggest causes of stress in your life are arrogance and aggression.” “Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Matthew 11:29b NIV * * * * * * * * * Because I added material from Rick Warren, this post went over what Triangle Park aims to maintain, 500 or so words.  I kept thinking, I bet no one will read to the end.  I’m blabbing on and they’ll want to check Instagram, Facebook, email, etc.  It was stressful thinking about it.  Millennials practically don’t know life without apps.  It begs the question: Do they causethem/everyone unfounded stress?  And, has stress become our pocket pal — that little booger we carry around thinking he is our friend, when in fact, he’s a constant-worry inducer? * * * * * * * * * Thanks for visiting Triangle Park Love, Shelley

I fell for running the way Kanye fell for Trump – suddenly and then all at once. I still have nightmares about “The Pacer” at Morris Brandon Elementary School. If you aren’t familiar, it is a recording of a series of beeps that gym teachers play while young children run across a gym. The beeps get progressively faster. All the cool kids made it to the beeps that forced you to sprint like your butt was on fire. I was never one of those kids. I always waited for at least one other person to quit and then told my self it was OK to do the same. That was usually about one minute into the exercise. Ugh, so lame. Fast forward 20 years later and I run 2.5 – 3 miles every other day. How the heck did that happen, you ask? Stress. My job can be really, really stressful. About a year ago I started experimenting with shorts bursts of running on the treadmill. I heard so many of my coworkers talk about “runner’s high” and had to see what all the craze was about. So I would run for two minutes and then walk for ten and repeat. And I felt pretty darn good after. Weeks turned to months and I would gradually run more and more. Sometimes ten minutes straight which felt like a huge accomplishment. It took me about six months to be able to run for 30 straight minutes and now I have worked my way up to 3 whole miles! I keep coming back to it because it makes me feel so amazing afterward. I cannot recommend this enough as a stress reliever. I could have a day from hell, but after a good run, all feels right in the world. So the next time you are stressed/about to have a mental breakdown (which happens to me quite frequently) hop on the treadmill and run for a few minutes. It’s OK if it takes you months to log in miles. Who cares, as long as you feel good. For me, it’s all about feeling good. The Pacer never made me feel good which is probably why I never tried hard. But running on the treadmill in the comfort of my condo building certainly does the trick. I have a few tips for keeping up the running habit. 1) Listen to gangster rap. I am already a very big fan of rap music, partly because of where I grew up and partly because of where I went to high school. I find if I crank up particularly aggressive songs, I am able to run longer than if I were to listen to John Mayer. 2) Motivate yourself with a treat. I always tell myself I can eat candy or ice cream after my run. Lately I have been breaking off a piece of a chocolate rabbit from Easter when I am finished. If I don’t run, I don’t get any of that chocolaty goodness. 3) Think about your relationships. My boyfriend and co-workers seem to be in perpetually good moods — me, not so much. I find if I go for a run before a date or before work I’m more pleasant to be around. If you’d like more tips on my running habits and how I over came feelings of inadequacy in public school PE class, please reach out to me on the contact page.

I am ecstatic to be an addition to this blog with my mom and sister, and am grateful to my mom for this idea of joining our worlds together in one congruent and easy to access place. The three of us live such different lives, and will add such varying content to this platform, and I am eager to see how it turns out. That being said, Hi. My name is Diana and I am a second year Materials Science and Engineering student at Georgia Tech. Finals week is fast approaching, and if you know anything about Tech (or any college for that matter), you know that finals week is an obtrusive, anxiety-ridden, sleep-lacking hell week. Naturally, my first blog series is going to be on managing and coping with stress, anxiety, and confidence. I am two days away from my first two finals, and I would hardly call this period the “Calm Before the Storm”. More like the “Pressure Before the Storm”. It’s the period where your last homework and quiz grades come in, and you frantically calculate the absolute lowest grade you can get on your final to make an A in the class…maybe a B…or at least passing. It’s the period where the overwhelming amount of material you covered in the past semester bears all its weight on your shoulders and forces you to beg the questions, “Did I actually learn all of this? Did we seriously cover that many chapters? Is my professor crazy? Wow, this is a lot.” It’s the period where you wear sweats every day, and have to force yourself to find time to eat, sleep, and do normal human things. This is my 5th semester, and thus my 5th round of finals (4 semesters is probably more accurate; as my mom likes to put it I was “gallivanting around Europe” last summer on study abroad, and finals were hardly present, let alone difficult). I’d like to think that I’ve come to know what to do and what not to do in order to prepare. Here is a small list of things to do in preparation for finals week: 1.     Make a plan and stick to it. Prepare when you will study for what class, and what classes take precedence. 2.     In planning, set easily obtainable goals. Something that you will be able to achieve every day or hour. This will hugely increase your confidence and momentum. 3.     Make sure to take breaks in between studying. A useful tool for this is the “Tomato Timer”. It forces intervals of productivity and breaks, and has a high proven success rate. You can find it here, and read more about it here. 4.     Write, don’t just read. Writing things down will greatly increase your chance of remembrance and accurate recollection. 5.     Sleep. The absolute worst thing you can do before an exam is not sleep the night or week before. Sleeping an extra couple of hours and being in a healthy state of mind is worth way more than the material you could have crammed in that time. I genuinely hope these few words of advice might help anyone in preparation, whether that be for an exam, project, or presentation. I will talk to you next week, with advice for what to do when you are in the middle of hell week and actually taking exams! xoxo

Savanna, Diana, and I officially launched our “bonds-and-buds-post-childhood” website as a fun, encouraging, humorous, hip way to live our lives while sharing trends, food, travel, photography, fashion, calamities, love, faith, and all-things-life blogging with you! When the day arrives that kids pack up and move out of the house, it’s sad.  It was for me any way.  Diana and Savanna are smart, spirited, respectable women.  The kind of ladies I want as friends.  I didn’t want them to leave home.  Well, I sooorta did…just not too far away. Introducing Triangle Park (www.triangleparkatl.com).  I’m thrilled to have my girls joining me as we weave together a triangle of loving, entertaining (hopefully!) lifestyle blog content.  My audience can be sure that I’ll be held to a strict standard; one that comes as a result of being the “older” generation contributor.  News Flash:  Young, hip, smart, upwardly mobile young people don’t want to be associated with frumpy, dated, poorly groomed, out-of-shape old farts.  In other words, I’ll keep current on health, exercise (spin, pilates), beauty (Kate Somerville, Hour Glass — personal faves), fashion (Anthropology, Lululeom — personal wardrobe suppliers) , and unavoidable angst (pray more worry less — personal motto). And while I strive to not be abandoned by my younger counterparts, be sure they’ll be held to a high standard as well.  One that excludes: dishonesty, decadence, disrespect, etc.  I tend to take these things for granted.  My children would never do that, there’s no reason to remind them not to act like that.  But, it’s a crazy, tempting, broken world out there.  Reminding them (or telling them for the first time), no matter what their age, can’t hurt.  We’re all human (and sinners to boot)! Triangle Park unrolls as a sort of: millennials (1982-2004) and baby boomers (1946-1964) dwelling in a triangle-blogosphere realm.  As a baby boomer I can’t help but think I’m (we’re) way trendier and cooler than generations after us.  But, who am I kidding.  The younger generation always has the “cooler” edge because, umm, they’re younger. * * * * * * Recently, I had to retire and my Step-aerobic obsession.  I did and loved Step for 20 years.  But for me, I couldn’t do it without having my hands and arms above my head the entire time.  Doing so made for a much faster, higher heart rate and jumping and spinning over the step with arms stretched to the stars was tons of fun.  A darn, I’m-getting-old shoulder injury caused me to give it up.  Sniff, sniff.  Apparently, once you cross the 50-year mark there are certain exercises you shouldn’t do over your head. Here’s an article that talks about some examples.  https://www.nextavenue.org/7-exercises-never-do-after-50/  My mother also said she heard from a trainer that you should never do anything overhead, over 50.  Be careful. So, I did two spin classes, one Pilates and walked about two miles last week.  My knees said, whoa, enough already.  They weren’t kidding.  Spin is my new cardio work out (cardio is so important for energy, mood and all that) but yikes, out-of-the-saddle peddling is foreign territory to my knees.  Hopefully they’ll adjust…and not have to be adjusted. * * * * * * So!  Today was our first official day working together.   There was fun, frustration, laughs and cookie baking.  Yes, I’m serious, we baked cookies! Web design is challenging stuff.  This site is a work in progress – thank you for your patience.  If you find things disorganized, missing pictures, links, etc., we’re madly working on it.  Savanna did an awesome job today, but she had her screaming moments. 🙂 Have you heard of cake mix cookies?  We added our own flare and, oh my, they were most yummy (and easy!).. Recipe: 1 box organic cake mix 1/2 cup oil 2 eggs  — bake 350 degrees for 12 -14 minutes What made them so good was we topped them with fresh raspberries, mint, squirts of lemon juice and pieces of organic raspberry licorice.  Deeelicious! Yum fun! It was a lovely Saturday night out with Mom.  She’s a lucky lady to have such a handsome, caring son-in-law!

1x/w, 3h, GW = me (3-hour, 1x week Golf Widow = ME) Jeff and I went out with old friends, Pam and Ray, a couple weeks ago.  We sat around the table eating over-priced (albeit worth it) charcuterie from Bacchanalia.  The subject of golf came up. “Ya, Shelley’s a golf widow,” Jeff said tongue and cheek. I hadn’t seen Pam in some time, but we picked up and reconnected straightaway.  Actually, we bonded for life (she doesn’t know this 🙂 after she said, “Isn’t it nice?” I giggled and wondered…hmm, am I a golf widow?  Since when?  What is a golf widow any way?  Whatever it is, exactly how much of a widow am I?   Jeff likes to golf…but, a widow…huh?Well, I did some research and sure enough there are golf widows out there.  Some are miserable, virtually left alone day in and day out.  Check this out: https://www.mirror.co.uk/lifestyle/sex-relationships/relationships/ive-become-a-golf-widow-now-768374 Her husband sounds like a jerk.  She shows up on a course ready to go with clubs, and he tells her she “invaded the one thing he likes to do to get away on his own.” Excuse me?  Jeff would be thrilled if I gave golf a go.  Hopefully, he doesn’t say that because he knows beyond a shadow of doubt, that I will never play golf.  It’s too slow and you have to be quiet and there are lots of rules and my wrists are weak and I don’t drink in bars…or anywhere else really.  Nope, I won’t be losing my [1x/w, 3h, GW] status by frequenting a golf course. It’s not so bad being a golf widow for three hours, one time a week.  I hang out in the gym or do something with my girls or walk Gus or visit the Dogwood Festival with Diana, like we did today. (Savanna and Joey went to the festival too, but we couldn’t find them.) Any way, It got me thinking about women who really are mourning, golf widows.  It would be tough — lonely, isolating. A perk to being a [1x/w, 3h, GW] is that in Scotland where we like to vacation, golf and horses go hand-in-hand.  I am happy as a clam being a barn bum while Jeff gets his course fix.  So it’s all good, no sympathy necessary for this golf widow. * * * * * * * * * I have great news! Savanna and Diana are joining my blog as soon as our tech support (Jeff Sweeney) sets up a page for them.  I’m blessed with the best to have my girls close by in ATL.  The three of us are close, literally and figuratively.  We live with a mere 2.2 x 3.6 x 3.0 mile triangle separating us.   We miss the connectedness of living together though. There’s a shade of separation anxiety that never quite evaporated when they left the nest.  Time zoomed by and there’s no way to get it back.  But, there’s vibrant hope for the future and the three of us look forward to sharing and bonding in a new way.  Join us! Thanks for stopping by, Love, Shelley Swinging in Scotland

After many months of a blog hiatus, I found myself lost for something to write about. So lost that I googled what to write a blog about? A site that promised: 101 Blog Post Ideas That Will Make Your Blog “HOT” popped up. Hot isn’t exactly what I’m after though. I don’t envision my audience clicking into Shellsween blogs expecting hot stuff. But I checked the suggestions out any way because “hot” is click bate and I took it. A lot of the topics were intriguing and others, not so much. #44 reads: Write where you’d like to travel. Where someone did travel sounds interesting, but where they want to go? There are plenty of good ideas on the site though. https://startbloggingonline.com/101-blog-post-ideas-that-make-your-blog-hot/ You decide if they’re hot, or not. I settled for #80: Abandon your blog for a week and make others think “what happened to you” – It’s pretty risky, but if you are a famous blogger – this will get you a lot of buzz. Well, I’m not a famous blogger, but I chose it any way. Go for it, I heard…from…God…who considers me famous all the same. Maybe there’s a single soul out there who actually does wonder what happened to me. After all, it only takes one to wonder. * * * * * * “Abandon your blog for a week.” I wish. A year was more like it. Why does a hobby-blogger disappear from their favorite pastime for a whole year? Thank you for asking. Depression is the answer. I never would have thought in a million years that the mysterious “something” that often people can’t pin down as to what, why, how or even if something really is wrong, and if it is, what the heck is it, where did it come from, and how the hell can you get rid of it, would visit me. Why am I not hungry? Why is it hard to get out of bed? Why do I have odd injuries? Why can’t I focus? Then, the day comes when you’re so sad there’s no denying it. Holy ****: I’m depressed. If you haven’t been there, there’s no way to know what it’s like. Don’t be curious or wish you knew because it’s not fun. If you know what I’m talking about, I’m sorry, I feel your pain. It’s not fun writing about either. But, it’s a way to dig out of it — get going again – a cathartic SOS rope of sorts. On March 29, 2017, my dear dad (88) lost control of his car and drove into shrubbery outside his dentist’s office. Thank God no one was seriously injured. He had minor injuries but that was all. It was alarming, mostly because I’d asked him to stop driving six months prior. Clearly, he didn’t listen to me. Four months later to the day, July 29, he rose to heaven at age 89. His passing had nothing to do with driving. It was his time to go. I fought hard — the desire to go with him. He was a kind-hearted, good man. I spent a week with him in the hospital before he went home for only a couple, cherished final days. Our last hours on earth together are intense memories. Though he wasn’t conscious, I played Amazing Grace for him; I laid beside him; I told him I loved him; I said I knew he was already some where I could only imagine; I said I looked forward to joining him one day. While in the hospital, he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior. I knew he was in good hands. He could let go. I told him that too. Diana in Monte Carlo One month before he passed, June 3, our dear friends/business partners were in a Puerto Rican plane crash.My last blog was about it: /blog.shellsween.com//2017/06/please-pray.html Needless to say, when dad began his decline I/we weren’t even close to comprehending the plane crash. During this time, my youngest was gallivanting around Europe for three months. Actually she was studying. But, if you kept up with her via Facebook it looked more like gallivanting than book emersion. Diana was in Budapest when her Papa died. It was sad but I’m kind of glad she missed the live sorrow. A small renovation of our home began shortly after dad’s passing. We’d been through bigger and better makeovers so I wasn’t too worried about it. Most of the work was slated for outdoors (driveway, painting, windows, etc.). This was good news because interior renovations aren’t my cup-of-comfort tea. What should have been an easy, no-thrills home improvement project, dragged on for months. The paint job was so bad the entire trim portion had to be redone. Contractors stopping by for this, that, or the other, became an agitating routine. It began in October and should have ended in October but it didn’t wrap up until mid January when I was jet-lagged from a second European trip within six months. Jeff traveled to Asia in November. Rather than sit home alone, I decided it was the perfect time to “get away.” I flew to Oregon and holed up in The Heathman Hotel with my iPad and journaled away. When my fingers weren’t madly keyboard pecking, I walked to Powell’s, the food trucks, Nordstrom, Pioneer Square, The Pearl District, etc. I hoped to get into the big Wordstock event at Portland State, which was right around the corner, but the line to get a ticket stretched to Tijuana and the line after that, to actually get in, went up to Canada. My sister and I managed to sneak into a Michael Jackson tribute concert in the old Paramount Theatre though. The guy performing sounded just like Michael.  Good ‘ol Portland. When I arrived home in Atlanta from that trip, I got sick. Really sick. A few weeks later, in early December, our dog, Gus, had his second ACL surgery. This is how I looked and felt too It’s a 16-week recovery process. We were sick and trying to recover together. Our second Europe trip was right after Christmas. I was barely recovered from the Portland trip but anxious all the same to split from ATL again. Seeing the pain of my father’s passing through my mother’s eyes was worse than my own. I hated to leave her but I also hated to stay…more. The day we left for Amsterdam (12.27), I went to the doctor because my wrist was in agony. I sprained it shoveling snow and ice from mother’s driveway and carrying far-too-heavy firewood, on Christmas day, to the fireplace and then ramming and jamming the logs as though doing so would bring dad back. I gave myself a TFCC tear. The doctor put me in a brace that made sleeping on the aircraft and traveling with in general, miserable for other muscles. Muscles on the right side of my body wound and knotted as tight as humanly possible. I love Europe and most places I’ve been, but coming back to the United States has always been a favorite part. I was happy to land at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport on January 6, 2018. On January 12, I tested positive for the flu. I thought my wrist was on the mend, but the flu attacked me like a mean monster and made it worse. Chills, fever, weakness and suppressed grief whacked me on my arse. If you had the flu this past season, you know what I’m talking about. If you were depressed and had the flu this past season, you wish you didn’t know what I was talking about. If you were depressed, had the flu, a sprained wrist and messed up muscles you thought (or wished?) your end was imminent. On February 8, I got tendonitis in the other wrist while pulling Gus. On February 12, my mother tripped on an ATT cable that was negligently left draped in front of her driveway. She was badly injured and rushed to the ER. Immediately after her accident she came to my house because there was no way she could care for her injuries alone. I loved having her and wanted desperately to cook and care for her but I had two lame hands. In March, I learned a childhood friend would spend the next five and a half years in prison. Everyone’s journey with bad luck blues is different. Mine happened because issues weren’t properly dealt with and, unfortunately, more issues piled on top of those. Tip number one to anyone suffering with loss, fear, or pain: don’t turn away. Don’t run like I did because it’s always right where you are. Face it, don’t deny it. Ask for help from friends, doctors, anyone you feel comfortable with. Don’t let other things pile on. One catastrophe is scary by itself — several are devastating. Rest, physical therapy, counseling, friends, exercise, spa visits, supplements, love, time, and Jesus helped me. All these things help on Recovery Road! It’s a loong road – I’m not at the end of mine, but very close. There were times when I thought I’d never be the same. Thank God that’s not the case. And speaking of God…nothing helps more than a personal relationship with Him. He was and is a constant, faithful companion — never further than a thought or Word away. * * * * * * It’s Easter Sunday, April 1, 2018. New hope, New life! Happy Easter! 1 Peter 5:6-7 Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you. * * * * * * I vacillated about whether or not to share this.  Is it TMI, what will people think, etc.?  What it is, I concluded, is the truth.  The truth will set you free.  If more people posted the truth, there might be more understanding.  The world needs more understanding, IMHO.   Sometimes the flip side to happiness is more interesting, meaningful.  To me it is. Everyone has a flip side. “I do suffer from depression, I suppose. Which isn’t that unusual. You know, a lot of people do.” –Amy Winehouse * * * * * * * * Happy Times Thanks for stopping by Love, Shelley RIP Dad

ART Recovery Aim: to post a new art piece every week. Difference between this week and last....FAILURE. I worked diligently on a piece convincing myself all the while it would result in personal satisfaction. "An artists only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection and on his own terms, not anyone else's." - J.D. Salinger I would have settled for mediocrity, much less perfection, whilst defined by myself. I love and agree with J.D.'s quote which makes miserable failure, on my part, harder to bear. All that came to fruition was torn, crinkled paper. Hours spent with no result other than honesty (count?) of pure failure. When all else fails with pad and pencil, resort to photography and lightroom! I could go on about outward beauty of my baby (can't every mother?). Far more valuable, rare and important is the inward beauty, sensitivity and intellect of this precious soul. PTL, I can fall back on a photographic image to ease the shame of artistic failure. Let the recovery process begin. "Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail." Ralph Waldo Emerson https://www.facebook.com/ShelleySweeneyArt