Is That A Fact?

While reading a recent copy of our local newspaper, I found a letter-to-the-editor that caused me to express frustration to my SO.  (Only in a muted and demure tone, of course.) A central focus of the letter dealt with the education system and what the writer thought should be done differently by the teaching profession.  There was no shortage of suggestions to be found from this writer......who was not, by the way, a teacher by training.

This caused me to reflect on a curious phenomenon in this country.  Is there anyone out there who thinks they could not do a better job teaching than the teacher?  Over the years, I've listened to countless people (and read just as many letters-to-the-editor) express their views on what teachers should do differently.  "Why, if they'd only......." or "Those teachers!  They should......." or "Why don't they just.......?"  It seems as if everyone has an opinion on how a teacher should teach, what they should cover, or how the subject should be presented in the classroom.

What I find fascinating is that I seldom hear people express those same views regarding other professions.  I do not believe I've ever overheard a conversation that began, "Why, that surgeon!  He should have tied off that leaking artery so much sooner." or "Did you see how that waste handler handled that container.  I'd.......", or "That engineer was way off.  She could have ......."   

Why do we presume that we could do a better job than the teacher?  Why do we feel so free to criticize those who teach?  Why do we naturally assume that 'any live body' could stand there and teach?  As a former educator, I can only say that I am thankful that no 'one' ever doubted me to my face, although I'm certain an army of dissenters had plenty to say behind my back.  I am proposing that we begin giving the teacher a little slack here - that we not presume, from the get-go-, that the teacher doesn't know what he/she is doing - that we reserve criticism until we have had formal training to be a teacher, putting us on equal footing with the educator(s) in question. 

Until then, we must assume that the educator is the trained professional and we are simply interested laymen and laywomen, of necessity interested in what the teacher presents and how it is presented, but recognizing that the educational professional went to school to become a teacher and we did not. 

That, is a fact.

Ancora imparo

Had The Dress, Too!

This was a weekend of memories.  Memories from our present-day house guests, whose images, antics, and hugs always stay with me for days, but also memories from a time past when our family was young.

Over the weekend, old VHS tapes of our children's childhood and high school performances were re-discovered.  A recent-past purchase actually provided the technology to copy the VHS tapes to DVDs and that is what SO spend much of his Thanksgiving weekend doing.  Although we both had plenty of other tasks on our to-do lists, it wasn't hard to forgo those tasks and simply watch the videos of the kids.  Musical performances of both 'kids' from junior high and high school proved entertaining, heart-warming and proof that they both could sing!

However, the heart-grabbers were the tapes that a former, stellar piano teacher made of each of her students.  I can remember Marianna, her home-studio and the countless hours that were spent there in lessons and mini-recitals, many of which she captured on tape.  There must be four to five hours of viewing - maybe more - with each and every minute a priceless picture of our lives as a young family.  What Marianna did, twenty some years ago, is a gift - the magnitude of that gift just hitting home this weekend.  

There are our children, seated at her grand piano, often in a home-recital setting, other times simply taped during a lesson.  There are pieces that either I or Father SO played duets on with the kids and there are some selections with me on flute, daughter on cello and son on piano.  The tapes begin when the kids were somewhere between seven to ten years of age and span a two-to-three year period.  I can remember that when we moved away from that midwestern city, Marianna was one of the hardest parts of our lives to leave.  Now I know why.

At first I thought it would be hard to watch images of when we were a nuclear family.  I thought I would get all weepy and cry, but I did not.  Instead I 'oohed and aaahed', laughed, and smiled, non-stop.  There were memory glitches, unwritten tempo changes, the awkward but oh-so-cute mandatory bows and, bless Marianna's heart, she always made her students look at the camera and announce the selection's title and composer.  There they were......our children......so close and real we wanted to reach out and hug them and never let go.  (OK, now I'm weepy.)

As Father SO and I watched the tapes, we would say, "I remember that dress.", or, "I remember that shirt."  It was as if yesterday had become today.  Suddenly, our daughter appeared on tape, wearing one of my all-time favorite dresses ever purchased for her.  She is about ten years of age and looking so captivating.  I looked at Father SO and said, "I remember that dress."  I stood up, went to the closet in my office, and pulled out a garment on a hanger.  There it was!  The one dress from her childhood that had meant so much to me I keep it close by.  I fingered the fabric, gazed carefully at the dress and, for a brief moment,  twenty-two years melted away and she was in the dress - back in grade school.

I know there are no do-overs in life......but I wish there could be.

OK, now I'm crying.  Good tears, but my glasses are getting all spotted so it is time to sign off.  Tomorrow I'll have to blog about steel wool, Scotch tape, or stain removers.....inert objects that cannot produce tears and emotions.

Ancora imparo

Can Someone Explain To Me.........

Can someone explain to me why, or, more importantly - how:

•  The same mind that cannot remember to do something during the day can remember dozens of 'things' in the night?
• I could actually let my nail clippers go that deep to remove a tiny piece of loose skin on the same side of my thumb that needs to type?
• One person can keep so much stuff?
• A clean desk can be destroyed in such a short amount of time?
• You can dust a floor and one day later it looks like it was never touched?
• I ended up with so many Ziploc storage containers without realizing it?
• It is so hard to throw away perfectly good cardboard boxes?
• One person could actually think they might need so many perfectly good cardboard boxes?
• I let one week get so cluttered with activities that I was SUPPOSED to enjoy?
• I can be falling sleep at eight o'clock p.m. but be absolutely wired two hours later....without the assistance of caffeine?
• Oxy-Clean gets those impossible-to-remove stains out?  (Maybe I don't want to know.)
• Homemade leftover food tastes really good two days later?
• Cat litter can travel so far on four little feet?
• I really thought I needed to win that giant Care Bear at Great America in May?
• I can feel so tired after exercising?  Isn't exercise supposed to invigorate a person?
• Grandchildren can give you so much energy when you are with them?
• The newspaper's "What's On TV" section is always folded imprecisely off-center?
• Feeling stressed makes me sneeze?
• Watching old family videos of your kids can warm your heart so much?
• Planning family get-together meals is so much fun?
• Drinking tea is so relaxing?
• Little girls' clothing is so cute and such easy 'Grandma Bait'?
• The summer went so fast?
• Seventeen men can sound so good?
• Church pews become personal space?
• Seventeen minutes can go by so quickly after turning off your clock-radio alarm?
• The television networks think the public needs to see Christmas specials in late November/early December?
• My mind thinks of all this stuff?

If anyone has an answer to any of life's important questions, please let me know.

Ancora imparo

Yes, We Did

Black Friday - so described because retailers hope that the cash registers chiming all day long will bring their ledgers into the positive instead of 'red', which is a death-knell for retail establishments.  For my SO and me, it was Black Friday because all of our house guests had left in a cloud of smoke by mid-morning.  Suddenly the condo had this eerie silence descend upon it.  No more chortling from a delighted Princess Leia, no more "Grandma, come look!", from TLV and TLV'sLB, no more adult conversations and laughter.......just the sound of the wind whipping through the trees behind the condo.  My SO and I looked at each other and, without words, began aimlessly moving about, picking up this and that, wishing that time would not have sped by so quickly.

I was planning on losing my post-guest blues by throwing myself into cleaning and laundry when SO said, "You should look at these sales fliers to see if there is a bedspread you would like."  Now, this is the third or fourth time he has brought up the subject of changing the bedding in the master bedroom.  Previously, I've either said, "Nah.", avoided the topic or ignored it completely.  We've had this perfectly good comforter/spread for longer than I'd care to admit but it looks just fine and gets the job done.  SO, on the other hand, felt that one of the lower level guest bedrooms badly needed a make-over and wanted to move ours to that bed and get a new look for ours.  His description of the offending bedroom decor was, "Foo-foo."   I was about to push off this repeat-topic but he became rather insistent and I thought, "Oh, what the heck." 

Consequently, we beat the blues by joining the legions of bargain-hunters on Black Friday.  Fortunately, it was mid-day so the crush of shoppers, or so we thought, should be somewhat diminished.  Upon arriving at the mall, we found every parking spot filled, giving the area the appearance of being a sea of vehicle rooftops, interrupted only by the constant movement of cars cruising up and down the rows, searching for the one-in-a-million open space.  Once we got into the mall, we found the check-out lines to be long and winding threads of people whose arms were laden with carefully selected items to add to the blackness of the day.  For those whose arms were full, other purchases were pushed along by their feet.

Yes, we did shop on Black Friday (It has probably been twenty-plus years since we've gone out on Black Friday.) and, yes, we did find bedding, plus other fun stuff.  Our master-bedroom has a new and updated look, one which might actually be described as sophisticated, rather than the old, dated and shabby-chic we were going for, years on end.  The curious upshot of our shopping trip is that the bedding set we purchased has so many accent pillows it takes most of the morning to make and arrange the bed to make it look just like the picture on the packaging.   But.....the offending guest bedroom has lost its 'foo-foo' look.

Can life get any better? 

Ancora imparo

Here I Sits

Here I sits......in the semi-dark, the only illumination sources being my computer screen and the under-counter microwave light.  Our house guests are all still in some sleep-stage, with the exception of Cranky Kitty, who howls intermittently, only to be yelled at by me, in my whisper voice saying, "Knock it off, Frances."  This works well-for about three minutes then she repeats her howl and I repeat my growl.  Hopeless, really.

I've been up for about an hour now.  I had no intention of arising this early but my allergies kicked in around four a.m. and once the nose-blowing starts, trying to sleep becomes an exercise in futility. My first few minutes, upon arsing, didn't go quite as smoothly as I had envisioned.  I found an almost-full carafe of coffee from last night so I thought I'd capitalize on some already-brewed eye-opener.  Attempting to be as furtive as a thief in the night, I poured myself a cup, placed it in the microwave - being careful not to make clunk and bump noises - pushed what I thought would be an appropriate amount of time, and walked away to check on the dryness of laundry done last night.  My mistake was not taking into account the temperature of the coffee in the heavy-duty, insulated carafe.  By accident, my laundry-checking task took me past the microwave and I heard vigorous boiling.  Looking in the microwave's window, I could see the results of too-vigorous boiling........a sea of brown covering the floor of the microwave.  "Rats.", is NOT what I said.  I was unable to just walk away from my mess and so it took five minutes of paper-toweling, washing, and drying to get the microwave back in commission.  Finally, a steaming-hot cup of coffee (albeit last night's), with fat-free half and half, made it safely into my hands and I to my kitchen-counter stool to play with my laptop.

As I type, the condo is still quiet.  In the background I can hear the white noise machines from the two upper-level bedrooms and the clothes dryer can be heard faintly in the background.  Kitty has been quiet for a long stretch of time.......unusual for her.  Ironically, now that I am drinking caffeinated coffee, I find myself dozing off as I type this posting.  As a rule, this would not be a problem but I am currently perched high atop a kitchen-counter stool and, if I lost my balance whilst I doze, the topple would be rather uncomfortable.

Perhaps I should move to a piece of furniture closer to the floor - say, a loveseat or reclining chair?  After, safety begins in the home! 

Perhaps I should re-title today's posting to read:  Here I Reclines!

Ancora imparo

Open To New Cuisine

Our Thanksgiving meal, tomorrow, will have tried and true dishes and some new 'kids on the table' will make an appearance.  To be sure, there will be the favorites - turkey, gravy, cranberry relish, Great Harvest dinner rolls and homemade pumpkin pie - regular and gluten-free.  Some of the old favorites will have a new twist.  My SO is preparing scratch stuffing, made with bread cubes that he cut up last week and has had drying out on the counter, under cheese cloth, for days now.  I am making mashed potatoes, but spicing them up a bit with sour cream and shredded cheddar cheese.  Absent from this year's splendid table will be succotash (Although I do have the necessary ingredients for a last minute preparation, just in case someone cries 'food foul'.) and green bean casserole.  To replace those hot vegetable dishes, my SO is making squash and, at our daughter's request, we'll be adding bacon-infused brussels sprouts and roasted garlic.  As you can read, we will not go hungry, although we might explode.

We've readied the condo, groomed the kitty, polished the bathroom counters, cleaned the toilet bowls, turned the lights on in the guest bedrooms, vacuumed in all the corners, brought out the toys, set the book boxes where all can find them, and dusted the floors.  Now all we need are our guests, and for two nights, we will all be together under one roof.  The grandsons are going to camp out in Gramps and Granny's bedroom.....something a little different this visit.  Gramps and Granny are looking forward to this sleepover-type visit!

This is as close to heaven on earth as one can get.  To quote an ABC daytime drama and create a paraphrase of my own:  "All My Children" and 'All Their Children, Too!' 

For this I am very thankful.  May all who read this experience a house full of love and a splendid table, too.

Ancora imparo

Reluctant Participant

Past blog postings have often included references, either oblique or direct, to Cranky Kitty.  'CK', as I'll refer to her in this posting, is a fact of life for my SO and I.  We didn't choose to have her live with us, ten or so years ago, but live with us she does and the three of us have forged a somewhat tenuous co-existence treaty.  We get along just fine.....as long as we follow CK's rules.

CK would definitely qualify as a geriatric feline.  This spring she will see her seventeenth birthday.  She doesn't jump much any more (which suits me just fine) and she takes the stairs very slowly, her limp decidedly getting in the way of accelerated scurrying, although when the doorbell rings and a stranger steps inside the condo, she can move rapidly, like a hovercraft, to a CK-designated place of safety.

Even cranky kitties have to be prepared for company and special occasions and this is where CK and I struggle in our relationship.  In CK's world, nothing happens that she does not allow nor approve of.  In my world........well, let's put it this way.......CK has to be groomed, regardless of whether she likes it or not.  Thusly, CK and I had our little 'come-to-Jesus' session earlier this morning.

Because grooming CK is a truly unpleasant, unnerving, unsettling, and, at times, downright dangerous task, I tend to procrastinate this most evil of deeds......in her eyes.  The minute I close the laundry-room door, she is on high alert.  Her alert level rises yet another notch when I open the cabinet door above the washing machine and bring out the 'tool of mat destruction', which is nothing more than the 'comb from he***.  I have to position her on a rug so her back claws, which work just fine, can dig in to the rug and help hold her in place.  My left hand must hold her neck at all times, because to not control her neck means her head is free to whip around and bite my right hand, which is her nemesis in this process.  Even with neck-control on a geriatric cat, her muscles possess other-worldly strength and she will attempt to bite me numerous times as she and I struggle for domination.  Her tail twitches wildly and she often emits her best guttural growl in an attempt to let me know she is not pleased.  (Oh, what an understatement!)

CK is now groomed, as best I could manage.  She must be five pounds lighter after removing so much of the dense undercoat that her long-haired heritage has bequeathed upon her.  I must have lost five pounds, too, from the aerobic exercise that is provided when wrestling with her.  The shame is, though, that in two days she'll never look like I combed her at all and my procrastination gene will kick in, once again.

She knows this. I can see her smiling.

Ancora imparo

Hits and Misses

The business climate is risky, at best, these days with slim profit margins and a country full of nervous consumers, afraid of spending.  So, could someone please explain to me why a business would neglect business and profits or ignore possible profits?

My SO and I just purchased a freezer.  Because it is small, its purchase price did not make or break the bottom line of the store where the sale originated but, these days a sale is a sale is a sale.  We tried to purchase one from a national retail chain but they would not take an order over the phone, requiring, instead, the consumer to come into the store and initiate the transaction in person.  We knew we hat we wanted and did not wish to make the thirty-five minute drive.  Sale lost. We then called the locally-owned appliance store where we have purchased every major and some not-so-major appliances for the past twenty years.  Sure enough, they would allow a phone purchase, plus they had no delivery charge.  They made the purchase easy and got the sale.

Last Friday I went on an internet search for a bakery business whose product I had received as a gift the week before.  The bakery items were delicious and I wanted to order some of their products for the Thanksgiving Day 'stuffing'.  I found the business on the web and was delighted to note that you could place an online order but the ordering process was so complicated and convoluted that I finally wrote down a phone number and exited the web page. Strike One. Next, I picked up my phone and placed a phone call to the business.  The line was answered by a male voice on a generic phone message that gave no identifying business name.  In fact, there was no way to determine that I had even reached the business I was looking for.  Strike Two.  I left a phone message with my name, number and what bakery items I wanted to order.  This was four business days ago.  I have heard zip back from this fledgling business.  Strike Three.

This morning I was in a local, long-established business, well-known for its customer service and quality products.  What should I see but the exact bakery item I had tried to order via a phone message from the other 'place'.  I purchased three cupcakes.  Once settled in my car, I pulled out my cell phone and called the first bakery number.  Once again, the answering machine's male voice with a generic message came on.  Since the message gives NO clue as to the name of the business, or even if the consumer has reached the desired business, I left yet another message, canceling my original message/order, saying I had heard no response and had found an alternate product. Strike Four for this fledgling company that not only missed my sale but probably lost future sales because I would not recommend this business to anyone else.  The product is great but the sales process is terrible.

Strike Five and you're out.

Ancora imparo

Skype To The Rescue

I don't know why anyone else has not thought of this idea.  Maybe others have but have been reluctant to voice it, but I will not be reticent.  In a series of nested ifs, I am suggesting the following: 

If the national agency in charge of traveler safety remains firm in its policy to have its agents aggressively pat-down travelers who choose public groping over X-rated see-through machines, and if the traveling public revolts, choosing the X-rated see-through machines over public groping, and if airport security lines become hopelessly snarled, thereby causing travelers to miss flights to get home to family and loved ones,  then why not choose a Skype-familiy dinner and get-together over crowded airports, congested and unsecured airport security check-points, cranky travelers, rude airline employees who have had it with complaining and also-rude travelers, weather-related delays, and tired youngsters who would rather be sleeping in their own beds anyway?

We all know the feeling of that unmistakable draw that most families feel to be together at Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It is one of the strongest, unidentifiable connections in the universe, making gravitational pull and polar attractions pale in comparison.  It is what caused my SO and I to endure all-night drives through two states and dangerous winter-driving conditions to get 'home' for holiday gatherings in years past.  However, if situations preclude getting to Uncle Harry's and Aunt Hortense's home for that fabulous Thanksgiving meal, then consider Skype-dining. 

While there can be no substitute for hugging Uncle Harry and Aunt Hortense in person and taking in the aromas of her thirty-two menu offerings, Skype-dining does allow for a few alterations in tradition that could be seen as positive.  With Skype-dining, all the participants would gather around their own dining tables, snack bars, tv trays, card tables, patio deck tables.....wherever they chose to eat......connect the little camera to their laptops, and.......presto......have instant, live communication.  Participants could remain in their pajamas and no one would be the wiser.  All you have to do is keep the angle of the camera high and all the other people can see is your face.  Every participating family could serve their own cuisine choices and, if Uncle Fred really prefers to eat two dozen oysters on the half-shell, well then, he can.  Or, if cousin Smiley prefers to eat a pound of limburger cheese on saltine crackers, then, he, too can eat to his heart's content and no one's nose needs to be offended.  Even cats and dogs could have seats at the table and no one would ever know.  Cleaning before the big dinner?  No problem, since the camera could easily be pointed at the one neat and shining area in the home.  Clean Fluffy's litter box?  A chore of the past, too. 

I just don't see the need for traveler tension, when the solution can be sitting right on top of your laptop, staring you in the face.  Let the little camera bring people together if air travel becomes too frustrating.  After all, since we humans are beginning to substitute texting, tweeting and messaging for voice-to-voice phone calls, why not Skype-dine together, too?

Ancora imparo

Lovin' The Weather!

I really like this weather......the gray, overcast, dark skies that portend the weather to come......which I will not be fond of!  The gray skies of November do foretell the meteorological future, don't they?  It won't be long until these skies and low-hanging clouds will open up and spew forth white snow flakes that will royally mess up our winter driving weather and make us watch our footsteps carefully.  But, in the meantime, cloudy skies energize me to work inside, much like a bear must feel just before hibernation.  I can sense the approaching season as if it were hung upon a giant banner in my living room or glaringly obvious in neon across the top of my garage door.

"I am winter and I am coming, ready or not!", is what the sign says to me. Here I sit with my hot cup of tea, happily typing away at my laptop, not feeling guilty about not getting out-of-doors this afternoon, because the threat of a misty rain appears imminent.  Instead I am rushing about from task to task, an accomplishing-cylone, whirling from room to room.  If anyone reading this is old enough to remember a children's cartoon show from the 1950's, called "Tom Terrific", that is what I feel like - a dervish moving rapidly about in a whirlwind of dust.  Even though I have to go back out tonight, which I detest, I am content in my woman-cave (otherwise known as my office) for now, working diligently at checking off a long list of tasks awaiting my attention. 

An earlier-in-the-day crisis was averted, much to my relief.  This minor-but-major crisis involved the loss of the i-Pod cloth cover that I have used, for some time now, to cover my cell phone.  The little black, slip-on case had probably used up its nine lives as I have routinely dropped it over the years but, heretofore always managed to notice its absence and retrieve it from an unseemly demise.  Not so this time.  Wherever it has fallen has become its final resting place unless another person picked it up and adopted the case as his/or her own. However, I can report a happy ending due to the gray skies and my cup of tea giving me the relaxation attitude to keep tackling long-procrastinated household odd jobs. I harnessed my excess energy and went online to the Apple Store and - voila! - discovered an alternative cover that should work just fine for my cell phone!    

I embrace the gloomy outdoor weather because, indoors, there is an atmosphere of energy and anticipation, which is exactly what the meteorological doctor ordered.

Bring it on, November!

Ancora imparo

Put A Lid On It

My purpose, here online today, is to reveal a cookware-industry conspiracy:  It almost impossible to find a 10" or smaller frying pan, with a lid, that is not part of a set.  I'll repeat myself another way.  If you are looking to buy a 10" or smaller frying pan without a lid, you will find plenty of choices, but - add a lid to the purchase requirement - and you have sent yourself on a search equaling the difficulty that Indiana Jones had locating the Holy Grail.

You have a wide array of cookware-set choices, all the way from the very cheap to the very expensive and in every conceivable type of pan from ceramic to non-stick, to aluminum to stainless steel to cast iron.  Amazing choices.....but most in sets.  Oh, you can find the occasional frying pan that is sold independent of a set but it is almost always WITHOUT A LID.

So, what gives cookware industry?  Are you afraid that if you put a lid on your pan that we, the American public will become so enamored with the one-pan concept that sales of your sets will dwindle?  What could possibly be the issue of selling 10" and smaller frying pans with lids?  Let me assure you that smaller frying pans need lids just as much as the larger frying and sauce pans.  They are no less apt to boil over and spew grease droplets than larger pans.  Bring on the lids, all you designers of pots, pans and other culinary cooking contraptions. 

Just put a lid on it!

Ancora imparo

Useful Tip

Have you ever heard the impertinent retort at a restaurant - 'You want a tip.....don't eat yellow snow.'?  I can remember thinking how funny this was when I was in high school, hearing it for the first time.  Other 'useful' tips came from my mother and other mothers as they exhorted their children, male and female, to: don't make that face, it will freeze that way; be sure to change your underwear every day in case you end up in the hospital;  keep the light over your right shoulder to save your eyesight; eat plenty of carrots to improve your eyesight; don't sit too close to the television, it will harm your eyesight (Ever notice how many of these exhortations had to do with eyesight?); don't run with scissors, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  I can remember a friend whose mother was always giving us 'motherisms', often yelled from another room, and this friend would cover her ears, squeeze her eyes shut and blow air out loudly so as not to hear anything her mother said. I wonder if this childhood friend remembers anything her mother ever said?

A tip that I'd like to pass along is this:  Read the expiration dates on all food packaging.  I'm consistent about reading the expiration dates on dairy products and meat products and I'm learning to read the expiration dates on soda cans simply because we do not consume many carbonated beverages and once these products loose their carbonation, the flat taste can be disgusting, but outdates on cardboard packaging?  Not so good at and it came back to bite me in spades last night.

I had a tasty meal planned:  Lightly breaded flounder fillets, fresh broccoli, and couscous.  The couscous, which turned out to be the offending food, was the pine nut variety, one of our favorites.  We sat down to eat and I took one bite of the couscous and said to my SO, "Does this taste funny to you?"  He tried it but in his first bite he had no pine nuts.  A subsequent bite brought a screwed- p face and we both decided that the pine nuts tasted rancid.  A quick look at the box by the person who has his masters degree in food engineering brought an "OMG" response.  He wouldn't tell me what the outdate on the box was but he insisted that we throw out the rest of the couscous and he NEVER  throws out food. 

So, do read the expiration dates on all of your packages.  Save yourself from having to see the screwed-up face on your SO.  After all, it might freeze that way!

Ancora imparo

Swirling Thoughts

"Good grief, Charlie Brown!"  That is what I feel like sayin' to myself.  How did I get myself into this quagmire of 'over-something-ed'?  At least my morning coffee is delicious and I liked the breakfast I fixed for myself.  Score two for moi!

Perhaps it is the weather.  Our local skies are gray and gloomy once again.  Typically this does not bother me because I love natural light and, if it was sunny, I'd have the blinds down until the direct sunlight passed over, trying to preserve the leather furniture, wood floors/furniture and upholstery colors.

More likely though, I am anticipating not enjoying an activity that I signed up for and am now wishing I'd never said 'yes'. I've been preparing for this activity as much as time has permitted and I still feel unprepared.  Past personal-participations have proven to raise my stress level rather than lower it.  I know, I know, I got myself into this and will not be a 'quitter' but if circumstances are such that my stress level is elevated to a Sears-Tower height, then I will have to do some serious re-considering. After all, life is too short to subject ourselves or others to unpleasant experiences on purpose.  There are cardinals in my backyard to watch, books to read, music to listen to, friends to chat with, events (fondly anticipated ones) to plan, pants that need hemming, magic wands to design, walks to take, a cat that needs brushing (this, I call relaxing?) and more coffee to consume.

Yes, my thoughts are swirling but for the most part the swirling thoughts are positively anticipated ones, not dreaded ones, and, as I type, my resolve is strengthening to feel empowered to participate in my un-anticipated activity with a positive attitude, knowing that if history repeats itself, I'll just smile, tell the organizer the truth, and release myself from further stress and tension.  Life always brings along another stress and tension producer.  One at a time is enough.

In this rapidly approaching Holly Daze season, empower yourself to remember that "one at a time is enough"!

Ancora imparo

Borrowed Time?

My laptop has been acting weird lately and it has me concerned so I called the Computer Doctor and he made a house call this morning.  Although I had to leave before he announced his final prognosis, he did indicate that it did not look as if 'it' had a virus or any other type of disease.  He was busy running a complete computer MRI as he did his usual thorough diagnosis when I walked out the door.  My last words to him were, "Fix it please, Doc!"  I then drove off to lunch in the dismally cloudy weather and had the time to reflect on life without my computer.

As I was driving along the relatively quiet state highway, I was struck by two things, No.1:  I would really miss not having regular access to a computer OF MY OWN and, No. 2:  This weather pattern just shouts, "Winter is approaching!" - neither of which is appealing to me.  A few years ago when my computer, at the time, had died, my SO and I had to share his computer and it was not fun.  He and I do many things well together but sharing a computer is not one of them.  Plus, he uses his laptop for work purposes and so his time on the machine naturally trumped any time I had......and rightly so.  It was exactly because of this memory that I called the Computer Doctor and asked him to come give my machine a complete physical.  He made a few changes that we hope will help but the bottom line is exactly what my medical doctor says to me when I voice a complaint about this or that:  "It's your age."  And so it is that I must realize my laptop is aging and that older computers do not take well to new software and programs that the internet is constantly telling 'us' that we need to update.  My gosh, nearly every day I get a message that says some program I'm using has a free upgrade and all I have to do is click here to download the latest and greatest version of 'something'. 

Just like my body and my laptop, the weather is 'aging' to the point that I know my time to walk about safely and comfortably in the great outdoors is waning.  The weather is also on borrowed time.and the sky reflects that looming fact.  Snow, sleet and ice cannot be far behind.  I wish the weather doctor could come, wave a wand, and simply let the seasons fast forward to March 21 and spring would spring forth. 

We're all on borrowed time....man and machine alike.  Cherry thought, isn't it?!

Ancora imparo

Is Self-Belief Available On-line?

Self-belief is a curious commodity.  Some people have it in spades, to the point of offensive self-adulation.  Others have just the right amount to be self-assured without being obnoxious.  There are those who possess very little self-confidence and there are yet others who have so little self-belief (or confidence) that a DNA test would probably reveal none present in their bodies. And then there is the curious category of the person who proclaims self-confidence and acts as if he/she has an over-abundance of the precious commodity, when in reality, there is nothing present but an outward bravado masking an inward level of severe self-doubt.

If we think long enough, we would all be able to identify at least one person we know that would fit into each category.  Some categories might have multiple acquaintances in them.  Likewise, every person who reads this would fit into one of the descriptions.

I have a friend who falls under the category of the latter:  An appearance of strong-to-excessive self-confidence, when the opposite is actually the case.  I used to see this type of persona frequently when I was teaching and even as far back as high school.  My friend, I'll call her 'Brenda Bravado', comes across as highly self-assured.  She has many reasons to be self-assured.  She is uber-skilled at what she does, is physically beautiful and has a giving, caring spirit that comes across soon after you know her well.  What troubles me deeply about her is her total lack of genuine self-belief.  She simply does not see her self-worth nor does she see any reason for anyone else to find her worthy.  I've known this woman for a while now and, despite frequent supportive conversations and exhortations to her to accept herself as worthy, I have had little or no influence on her to see herself as others see her. 

I cannot give up, nor will I give up.  There is too much at stake to write her off as a lost cause.  I know that prayers for her are the answer but I would really like there to be a web site where I could go to purchase self-confidence and place it in an account with her name on it.  We can purchase just about everything else known to mankind ('personkind' just doesn't make it) online, much of which is deleterious to our physical and mental health, so why can't we purchase those traits which would be beneficial to our bodies and minds? 

I can hug her, cajole her, plead with her, send her cards, and pray for her, but in the end it is she that has to just believe........in herself.  No web purchase, no magic potions, no prescriptions and no pills to swallow are available.  Come on, Amazon, you sell everything else, why not self-belief?

Ancora imparo

On Alert

I was in my childhood 'neck of the woods' this morning as the opening day of deer hunting season began.  This was gun season, as opposed to bow season which, I believe, has come and gone.  I'm not here to discuss the pros and cons of animal hunting.  Heaven knows there are those individuals who are passionately for and against it.  Wild game hunting is a controversial subject, depending on the part of the country you travel through.

This morning, as we motored through a two-hundred-or-so mile stretch of relatively rural landscape, we saw a few instances of deer on the move, on alert and trying desperately to evade the rifle shots that we heard every time we stopped for a break.  You simply could not escape the sound, which I found oddly disturbing and discomforting.  Each time I would alight from the car and would move toward a building with the sound of gunfire in the background, I found myself hoping that the hunters were firing accurately and a wild shot would not fell some unsuspecting person.  

When I was a teen, I hunted with my father because it was expected of me.  Wild game hunting was and is widely accepted in the area that I grew up in.  As soon as I was old enough, I was enrolled in a gun club where we learned to handle, clean, sight, and shoot rifles.  I deer-hunted for several seasons with my dad.  My memory fades as to why I stopped hunting with dad.  It probably had something to do with school activities, both during the week and on the weekends.  I was raised eating wild game and still enjoy any and all wild meat, but........

Today, seeing the frightened animals fleeing for their lives somehow took the thrill out of thinking about eating venison.  This is an internal conflict that I am going to have to examine, consider, and ponder.

I sign off tonight with personal, thought-provoking introspection.

Ancora imparo 

Oh, No! I've Been Deleted!

I've written before about how fascinated I am with the social networking phenomenon called Facebook.  There are about as many reasons for people to sign up with Facebook as there are people who sign up.  It is used to keep track of friends, chat with friends, communicate business information, find each other, etc.  It is used as a bulletin board, a platform, a soap box, a pulpit, a for-sale sign, a classified ad, and a megaphone, among other things. My favorite postings are when not-so-bright individuals complain about bosses or workplaces.  Even though the court-system has just declared that individuals cannot lose their jobs because of something they 'said' on Facebook, it still defies common sense as to why someone would post content of that nature to begin with.  Do 'people' not think that their bosses will see what they wrote for the world to read and that these disparaging remarks will not, somehow, affect their bosses' and supervisors' impressions of the employee(s) whose page(s) the remarks appeared on?   Not to be on my own giant soapbox, but this is a giant DUH to me.

Now I read that there is a site I can visit to see who has deleted me as a 'friend' on Facebook.  The whole idea of 'friend', by Facebook definition, is a farce, but that is a topic for another blog posting.  I just read a quote from someone who had visited the site, found that she had been deleted by numerous 'friends' and was both enraged and demoralized that she would be removed from friend lists. 

Personally, I like the ease with which irritating and annoying people can be here today and gone tomorrow on Facebook.  It is as if a wand can be waved, and "Poof, I'm gone, You're gone".  There is nothing wrong with that.  It happens in real life all the time.  People come in and out of our lives, either intentionally or unintentionally.  And, this is not something new to this decade or present generation.  It has been going on since mankind learned how to communicate and will continue, one way or another, as long as humans are on this planet.  The problem is that now we've learned how to find out, for real, that someone didn't like us.  No more snickering in the bathroom at school or venting over lunches/dinners, or on the phone through conversations, tweets, or texts, through emails venomous to vaporize the recipient or through the tried-and-true Dear John Letters of the past.  We just have to visit the website and see for ourselves. 

Ah, progress.  Perhaps we all should have an electronic 'D' implanted in our foreheads that only others can light up when we no longer meet the criteria they have set forth for friendship.

 Ancora imparo

Row-Upon-Row Reminder

There is no more somber reminder of the sacrifice that our fighting men and women have made than to see pictures of Arlington National Cemetery. The starkness of the simple, yet elegant white crosses, laid out so precisely, row upon row, are a visual reminder of our veterans' service to our country. We know about this tremendous service and sacrifice but do we (I speak for myself.) really understand?  Those who have lost family members and loved ones know of this sacrifice first-hand as they deal with the pain of loss, perhaps on a daily basis, but, for the rest of us, we can only read, emphasize and respect.

When I was still in the classroom and had a yearly responsibility to lead a young band in the Memorial Day Parade, it was always a priority of mine and a challenge for me to teach the students why the parade was held and why they should feel an honor to give up a day off from school.  I probably failed miserably to reach most of the students, but it was important to try to instill in them some sense of history and respect for those who had died in the act of protecting our nation.  I still see that the challenge remains to inspire our nation to remember.  Yes, some schools are closed today and major banks are closed as well, but for what purpose other than to have a day off to sleep in, to shop or to run errands.  I'll be the first to admit that a day off from school was an occurrence I  looked forward to as much as the next public employee, but did I take time to reflect why Veterans' Day was being 'celebrated'?  No, I did not.  I cannot change the past but I can improve today. 

I am remembering.  I am thankful.

Ancora imparo   

The Art of Persuasion

The art of persuasion is perfected at an early age.  Infants quickly learn that smiles beget smiles.  A little later on, toddlers learn that smiles beget attention and, isn't attention what we all thrive on?  Somewhere on down the line little girls learn how to twist Daddy around their little fingers and boys may learn how to melt Mom's heart.  As children age and become teenagers and young adults, they may turn their wiles toward winning the attention of the objects of their affection.  And so the cycle continues as it has through the centuries.

Persuading those who do not love us is another matter.  I'm uncertain if it is easier to persuade a total stranger or someone I am very close to.  I would lean toward the former.  Total strangers may be more apt to listen dispassionately and be more objective when considering that which we are promoting or presenting.  To be sure, over the years, many a ploy has been employed to persuade another person or group to 'see things our way'.  Convincing tactics are the goal of any person who is charged with corporate or retail sales.  Convincing tactics are used by every teenager on the planet in order to shame, guilt or exhort one or both parents into allowing the use of the family vehicle.  Consider the debate team's persuasive speech requirement.  I see this as simply more practice for the teenager to hone his or her skill for parental management.

At times, one of the most frustrating challenges to the art of persuasion is that of persuading another person, or group, whom may or may not share my passion for the project I am 'pedaling'.  There will always be project peddlers.  In Washington D.C. they call project peddlers lobbyists, a word that, more often than not, carries with it a negative connotation.

I am in the process of researching the perfect project peddler for my latest endeavor:  This person must excel at pleading a case successfully and must possess the skills necessary for puppy procurement.  Yes, that is right.  I am searching for a puppy-procurement-project-peddler.

Interested parties should apply within immediately.

Ancora imparo


















 

Lessons Learned

I thought it would be appropriate to document what I learned yesterday, during my zero birthday.  After all, life lessons are important and I will need to carry this pertinent knowledge through my next decade. 

I learned that the people who are most excited about sixtieth birthdays are those who are already sixty, for they desperately need other people to join their not-so-desirable club.

I learned that you should not have an age discussion with your SO right before you expect to sleep.  Premature morphing of ourselves into seventy years of age is not a sleep aid.  

I learned that gourmet cupcakes, like I see on the Food Network, do exist in my area and are mighty tasty!

I learned that you get a lot of advice and unsolicited help on your sixtieth birthday.  Here are some examples from yesterday:

• Watch your step now that your eyesight is waning. 
• Let me carry that for you.  Your strength isn't what it used to be.
• Be sure not to fall.  Your bones are brittle and your balance isn't what it used to be.
• Nuts?  Can you still chew them with the teeth that you have left?
• Didn't catch that?  I'LL SPEAK UP NOW THAT YOUR HEARING IS GOING.
• Oh, here, you have a crumb on your chin.  You must be drooling now.
• Need a magnifying glass?  No bother, I'll read it to you.  
• Oh, I forgot.  You don't hear so well, do you?
• Should I cut that cupcake up for you into smaller pieces?
• Maybe you should drink hot milk now instead of coffee.
• Careful now.  This is a big step for someone your age.
• HAPPY BIRTHDAY (shouted), GLAD I COULD MAKE YOUR PARTY!

 There were some gifts that I didn't receive or references to aging-jokes that didn't occur and for that I am thankful.  I did not receive a box of Depends.  PTL!  No one gave me dental cream for dentures.  No one suggested that I puree all my food now.  I did not receive a cane with a horn on it. 

I did learn that friends were thinking about me and that my family loves me.  For this I am very grateful.
I did learn that the gentlemen in the choir I direct sound even better with cupcake crumbs in their throats and windpipes!  Lotsa fun!

Ancora imparo

Reflecting and Ruminating

I do not even know where to begin this posting.  Yesterday I wrote about waiting for my big zero birthday.  I wasn't very excited about it but, when I went to bed last night I was positively dreading today.  When I awakened today I felt resigned to the fact that the big day was here, like it or not.  My mood lightened considerably when I came into my office, sat down at my laptop and there, right in front of me was the homemade birthday card the Three Musketeers had lovingly crafted, complete with family signatures.  A priceless treasure, to be sure.  Upon logging into Outlook and Facebook, I discovered many, many greetings from friends and relatives - another reason to smile big! 

My SO and I had made plans to travel north, I'd see my bone cruncher, we'd do a little Christmas shopping and then have lunch with one of our favorite people in the world.  Wearing 'special' earrings that do not appear special but are, to me, I was finally dressed, ready to go and my last task was to put on shoes and socks.   A bit in a hurry, I did not realize each foot had on a different colored sock until I stood up, ready to dash for the car and, fortunately, looked down, noticed my fashion gaffe and was able to correct it before leaving the condo.  This, I thought, does not bode well for future years.

The road trip north and back was relaxing as we took county and state roads and were able to drive slow enough to look around and notice details about the farms, farmland, crops, and the communities we drove through.

Just when I thought this day could not get any more special and personally heartwarming, the choir that I direct engineered a little surprise party, much to my......surprise!  The men brought cards, more balloons than I'd ever imagine, beverages, gourmet cupcakes that were to die for, and the piece de resistance, a large box of Godiva chocolates.  Best of all, they sang Happy Birthday, as only male singers can serenade, complete with four-part harmony.  Heaven...... After arriving home for the night, my SO presented me with a gorgeous fabric that can be used either as a table runner or a shoulder shawl.

Life is good.  I went from zero to sixty in a very short time and loved every minute of it.

Ancora imparo 

Reflections On A Decade

I am about to celebrate, no, let's say 'experience' a birthday.  A big birthday.  A big, zero birthday.  I met my last zero birthday with very conflicted feelings and, probably, some depression.  I remember the day vividly, as if it were yesterday.  It was an uncommonly warm day and I walked to the Secretary of State's license bureau, which was just down the street from where I worked.  It was one of those birthdays where I had to renew my license, take a test and have a new picture taken.  Perhaps my gloom and doom feelings were connected to the then recent tragedies surround 9/11.  Whatever the case, I did not embrace that birthday.  
Now that ten years have passed, I look back at the past personal decade and look at how many watershed moments have occurred:

• I experienced professional success.
• Both of our children were married.
• The gift of grandchildren was given.
• I earned my master's degree.
• My SO took early retirement.
• Birdie and Timeless came into our lives.
• We lost Max.
• We rescued Oskar and found him a wonderful home.  Part of our hearts left with him.
• I walked away from two careers and group health insurance.  What was I thinking?
• A sister and brother-in-law died.
• I became a two-thumbed texter.
• I became eligible for group health insurance, once again!
• I started my own educational grant foundation of which I can proudly say I am the President, CEO, CFO, and Chairman......perhaps my greatest achievement?

As I look ahead to the next decade, my bucket list includes:

• Help my oldest grandson celebrate his fourteenth birthday
• Keep my remaining agility
• Get a gas cooking stove
• Drive the aqua RV out of her slip
• Take an Alaskan cruise
• Visit New England
• Prevent shoulder-slumping
• Keep from drooling, mumbling, or otherwise publicly embarrassing myself or others

If I achieve any of these bucket-list items, you'll be the first to know!

Ancora imparo

Listing No. 111, Where Are You?

There was a sitcom in the 1960's, specifically from 1961 to 1963, called "Car 54, Where Are You?", starring Joe. Ross and Fred Gwynne.  At the time, I was more interested in a quartet of mop-haired singers from Liverpool, England that took America by storm, so I didn't watch the show all that often.  I did watch often enough, though, to still remember the theme song from the series and it is still 'stuck' in my memory.

What does this have to do with "Listing No. 111, Where Are You?"

My SO and I have several, routine walking paths that we chose from each day.  We traverse these streets so often that we recognize home owners, their vehicles, and, often, their dogs.  One of the home-owners was a woman with three dogs that we met shortly after we moved into our new neighborhood, which, after four-plus years, is a not-so-recent move.  Sometimes our paths would converge and we might walk a block or two together, casually chatting as we'd go.  We became 'walking acquaintances' and we would look out for her each day.  When you walk through neighborhoods on a regular basis, you get to know peoples' patterns and after a year or so, we noticed that her pattern had changed.  We were no longer seeing her at the same time each day out exercising her dogs.  Instead, we'd see her leaving her driveway  About a year later she held one of two, large garage sales.  I stopped in at the first sale and had an opportunity to briefly chat with her.  Shortly after the second sale our paths did not cross and all of the landscaping materials that had occupied her driveway for a number of months were no longer there so we thought, "Good for her!"

For the last nine or so months the house has had a deserted look about it.  No lights ever on during dusk hours, no sign of vehicles coming and going, her personal touches that were placed throughout the front yard were absent and no sound of barking dogs as we'd walk past the house.  We missed seeing our 'walking acquaintance".  It seemed as if the home was vacant but we had no way of knowing that for sure.

Fast forward to this morning.  Over the weekend, a for-sale sign was placed in the front yard.  It would appear that our suspicions about the home being vacant are accurate.  As I trudged up and down her cul-de-sac, I couldn't stop thinking about the woman who used to live there and her three dogs.

Where have you gone?  Are you OK?  Are you and your animals safe and warm in another city?   

The nature of our suburban society is that people come and people go.  It is as if we are all faceless upon this earth, which is a rather disturbing thought.  Her for-sale sign has a listing number on it, which is as personal as this anonymous situation can get.  Listing No. 111, someone has noticed you are no longer there.  Where are you?

Ancora imparo

A Sign For What?

I'm not really into signs......you know, like astrological signs, palm reading, tarot cards, neon signs, poster-type signs, etc.  (I am fond of one sign though:  The dollar sign.) But, the other day, I am certain the universe was trying to communicate with me and, I'm proud to say, I actually was alert enough to notice!

A former health-care giver of mine was deeply connected to Native American religion.  She made regular visits to the southwest region of the United States and had a local shaman that she communicated with frequently.  Even though, as a Christian, I do not ascribe to her religious beliefs, I did respect her views and, often, found her thoughts very comforting and insightful. One day, on a visit to her office, I mentioned that I held a personal goal to have a daily sighting of at least one Northern Cardinal.  For some reason, I explained,  I was inexplicably drawn to this aviary species and found it very relaxing to simply sit and watch the cardinals that would converge at my neighbor's numerous bird feeders.  She proceeded to explain to me that this was highly symbolic in the Native American religion and it was not coincidental that I had chosen the Northern Cardinal to identify with. OK, I thought.  I just thought I liked cardinals!

Fast forward to this past Thursday.  As I was driving about during daylight hours, on a rather deserted country road, I saw a red-tail hawk swoop down and perch on an electrical pole.  I was stopped at a stop sign, with no cars behind me, so I could take the time to observe the hawk as it watched its prey 'like a hawk'.  Now I know where that term comes from.  The hawk's head moved about in its twitchy, jerky way as its eyes followed some unsuspecting animal on the ground that was about to become the hawk's lunch.  It wasn't long before the hawk made a lightning-fast dive to the earth and rose quickly again with a smallish creature in its beak.  "Spectacular", I thought to myself, and drove on home, revisiting the scene over and over in my mind's eye.  When I arrived home, ready to unload groceries and other purchases from the car, I first took time to open the shades and what should catch my eye but another red-tail hawk right in my backyard, not more than thirty feet away, as it soared into the grove of trees in the back yard, coming to a stop on a branch that gave me clear sight......almost as if I could reach out and touch this small and majestic raptor.  The hawk's head turned my way and it was as if the hawk stared right into my eyes and deep into my soul.  I stood rooted in place, not wanting to move for fear that my slightest movement, even inside, would spook the hawk and cause it to take flight.  The hawk's body remained motionless, even though I know its eyes were trained on its next meal and, sure enough, as powerfully as it had landed, it took flight once again, aiming toward the ground just out of my window's view.  I was thrilled!  Two close encounters of a 'hawk-nature' in one day!  Just as I was about to turn and move away from the window, the most brilliant of red fluttered onto the ground in my backyard.  I stood transfixed as I spied on this spectacular Northern Cardinal specimen.

Two hawks and a Northern Cardinal, up close and personal.......within a three-hour span.  I was convinced that the 'universe' was attempting to communicate with me and I instinctively knew what it was saying:  "Slow down and see.  See what I have created.  Take a deep breath and appreciate nature in all its glory.  Cast your impatience aside, even if for brief moments.  It will make you a better, more relaxed person."

And so I did. 

Ancora imparo

Proliferation of Procrastination

We've all heard the phrase, "Up to my eyeballs in alligators".  As of late, I feel as if I'm 'up to my ankles in concrete'.  I've been dragging my feet on so many tasks and projects that it is as if I've just walked, barefoot, through a freshly poured cement sidewalk from my youth.  Remember how irresistible it was (?....maybe still is) to take a finger, use a stick to 'write' something in the wet cement or simply place our entire hand palm-down?  Many a set of initials or a name and date has been forever cast in the wet, gray, gooey substance that grows to a state so hard and dense that even the bodies of imperiled mobsters cannot be located.

Not long ago I wrote a post regarding pontificating about preparation.  Today's posting deals with another famous 'P' word:  Procrastination.  Procrastination seems to be proliferating in my day-to-day life.  I am becoming an expert at using the forward arrow in my Franklin-Covey planner. 

Supposed to call this or that business (or person) about this or that?  No problem for me.  I dutifully write it down on the the daily task list in my planner.  As I complete a task or chore, I check off the bulleted point.  No completion of certain tasks on the list?  No problem either.  I just draw yet another arrow and write the task down for the next day.  The problem is that the number of 'forwarded' tasks keeps growing as do the number of days it actually takes until I get the job done.

I have no explanation for my proliferating penchant for procrastination.  Perhaps it is due to a lack of inspiration or, perchance, it is due to a canine void in my life. I just heard a recent segment on morning television  about people who are impulse shoppers.  That is not my excuse for the deferment of daily chores.  I am not out and about shopping so frequently that I am never home to accomplish items on my task list.  I arise relatively early in the day and do not nap so that cannot be the reason for delaying defined deeds.  Unfortunately my parents are both deceased so they cannot pay me one dollar for every deed I 'do-ed'. 

I am just stuck with myself, in the cement that I have poured over my own feet.  It is now up to my ankles and here is where I must call a halt to the pouring of concrete, lest it get to my knees.

Anyone own a jackhammer, just in case?

Ancora imparo 

Woody, Where Were You When I Needed You?

I was shopping in a giant toy store today that is identified by a backward R in the middle of the store's name.  It was mid-afternoon and I was surprised by the number of people walking about up and down the aisles.  The majority of the shoppers, this afternoon, were easily sixty years of age or older.  Lots of gray hair and lots of men and women looking together, presumably grandparents, all appearing rather dazed and confused by the enormity of the choices setting upon the shelves.

The sheer volume of inventory is both impressive and overwhelming, at the same time.  Wandering through the store is like wandering through San Francisco's China Town without a map.  I was looking for two things - Play Doh and a toy that a friend thought was made by Fisher Price.  After walking through aisle after aisle, eyes trained upward trying to read the small signs at the end of each aisle, with even tinier print, I discovered I couldn't see any inventory because I was constantly looking up to read signs.  "This", I thought to myself, "is not working.", so I tried to find a sales associate.  There were many sales associates milling about but I could not get close enough to one of them long enough to ask a question.  After nearly closing in a almost a dozen associates, I gave up and went in search of the service desk, where I waited.....and waited.  When a service-desk associate finally looked up to notice me and I was able to ask where the two items might be that I was searching for, the associate got this blank look on her face and I thought to myself, "This is not working."  After she consulted with another associate, I was directed to two different spots in the large store.  Spots, mind you, not aisle numbers, which is what I was hoping for.  I began my wandering again, this time, at least, with a bit more specificity of location than before.  I was able to find the Play Doh but the other toy was a strike-out, even with assistance from two associates.

Checkout brought no better service than the rest of my experience in Jeffery's store.  There were only two clerks, one of which was tied up with one customer the entire time that the other clerk (mine) waited on four customers before me.  Behind me were five to six more waiting to make their purchases.  Even though service was inexorably slow, I gave no thought to putting down my Play Doh and leaving the store.  It took too much time and energy to find the Play Doh and not purchase it.

I do understand that the volume of inventory is so huge that it would be impossible for one person to know where everything is but I was disappointed with the lackadaisical attitude that I encountered from most of the staff.  I think Jeffery is as cute as can be but his keepers need some additional training.  After all, the Halloween buffer is gone and Christmas is right around the retail corner. 

Jeffery, you had better round up your employees and do some serious mentoring or it is going to be a very poor fourth quarter for your bottom line. 

Ancora imparo

Mental Lint Remover

While I've been going from room to room, closet to closet, drawer to drawer, I've discovered so many items that have taken me on a journey down memory lane.  Belongings of my maternal grandmother, my mother, hand-written recipes from my eldest sister - now deceased , toys and articles of clothing from my children's youngest days, wedding gifts from the day I and my SO tied the knot, and numerous possessions from whence or whom I do not know.  As I've handled each object, a tiny memory jolt has loosened mental pictures from years past and, at times, entire events have tumbled forth with cinematic clarity.  How fascinating that the physical act of touching an object stirs up a simultaneous mental image.

With any major household project comes dust, lint, dust-bunnies and larger clumps of floor fuzz and my abode is no different.  I've gone through countless Pledge Dust-It cloths as I have wiped off each surface I've come in contact with.  I don't even want to consider how many sneezes have occurred as a result of my cleaning and organization project.  The number of Dust-It cloths is second only to the number of facial tissues I have wadded up and thrown away.  The vacuum sweeper has also received an olympic-sized workout and must be wondering what it did wrong to receive such unusual abuse. 

What I realize, now, is that I have cerebral dust that needs removing as well.  There is lint gathering in my brain.  I, of course, cannot see this lint but I am aware of it as it makes its presence known in a variety of ways throughout the course of the day.  The quintessential questions that arise multiple times in the course of a twenty-four hour period:  "Now why did I come into this room?", "Where did I put that?", or my favorites, "I was going to do something.....what was it?" and "I was going to tell you something......what was it?"

I am looking for the magic potion that will reduce brain dust - an abracadabra, if you will, for restoring clean closets, drawers and shelves in my head.  I cannot use my vacuum sweeper......heaven forbid I would suck out any remaining useful brain chips that are left.  Nay, this remedy must be of a kinder, gentler nature, perhaps like the lint roller that sits on a shelf in my office.  A device that I could softly roll over my scalp and remove brain dust like metal flakes drawn to a magnet.  Maybe a port could be installed whereby, when the dust level reached 'high', all I would have to do is bend over and the dust could fall out, only to be blown away in the November winds.  

Soon, I realize, I may appear quite odd with an electronic 'P' on my forehead and a hole in the center of my head.  Next I need to work on body contouring.  What contraption can I conjure up for this project?

Ancora imparo

 
  

Preparation Pontification

OK, we all know about Preparation H, the condition it is supposed to alleviate, and the other home-remedial characteristics it is touted to possess.  Preparation H has been the brunt (note intentional use of brunt) of many a joke through the years.

I would like to highlight another preparation:  Preparation 'P'.  Preparation P represents my 'P'et 'P'eeve of lack of preparation.  Preparation 'P' should be available in a tube that could be spread on the foreheads of those individuals who are seldom (or never) prepared.  Have you ever considered how much of your time is wasted by the lack of preparation by others?

There seem to be too many people, in this world, who think that preparation simply means showing up or having an idea.  An idea, to the person who desperately needs Preparation P, is akin to a large bowl of confetti.  "Let's throw it up in the air and see if any pieces land, where any pieces land, and who, if any, catch some confetti in their hands.",  is the business model of the person needing a dose of Preparation P. Have you ever noticed how quickly the 'lack-of-preparation' virus spreads?

We all have days where our preparation is lacking, or a total lack thereof, is glaring.  No one can presume to be perfectly prepared all of the time.  But, a preponderance of preparation is preferable to a pittance of preparation.  Therefore, I am proposing that all humans get surgically fitted with an electronic 'P' in the middle of  their foreheads.  If preparation is present, then the 'P' will automatically light up.  No light - no preparation and we would at least be forewarned that our time may be about to be wasted.

Now that I have pontificated about preparation, I am headed for the mirror to see if my 'P' is lit.

Ancora imparo

The Buffer Is Gone

I wish Halloween was not over and not because I am a Halloween fan.  Oh, I do think it is a fun celebration that American goes ga-ga over.  After all, I just read that Halloween-related sales are second only to Christmas-season sales.  It is kind of ironic though, don't you think, that the two celebrations are so diametrically opposed in their inceptions?

I like Halloween because it is the final buffer before the consumer is barraged with the early onslaught of Christmas decorations, Christmas themes, and the subsequent television and print ads for all things that could possibly be on a child's or adult's Christmas-gift wish list.  Even though stores' Christmas decorations were beginning to creep in prior to All Hallows Eve, the Halloween theme was prominent enough to keep the Christmas-related hype to a dull roar.  Now there is no merchandising buffer and the advertising and promotional directors for all places commercial can go nuts, which they are.

I am just not ready to see dancing snowmen, prancing reindeer, waving Santa Clauses, floating snowflakes, kneeling Marys and Josephs and wandering wise men.  I would just like to enjoy November for what it is - a transition month.  A month where Mother Nature gently (most of the time) leads us from warmth to coldth.  (my word)  A month where we transition our closets from shorts and halter tops to sweaters and quilted coats.  A month where extra blankets are brought out of storage closets and onto beds.  A month where the trees become buck naked and a month where bucks chase does......often to their "Thelma and Louise" demises.  A month where I have to find my favorite mittens and driving gloves.  A month where I get to eat - for one day - dark turkey meat, mashed potatoes and dressing smothered with gravy, succotash, and the pie-type of my choosing.....since I bake the pie!

Yes, I like November, the month......not November the precursor to December.  Let's celebrate November's natural beauty and bounty. 

Maybe we could make Halloween last a bit longer?

Ancora imparo

National Pepto Bismol Day

This is the day that most of America has been waiting for - the last day before the mid-term elections.  When November 2nd arrives, many of us will drop to our knees, kiss the ground, and do hail-Marys in thanksgiving for not having to watch any more political attack ads on television or endure those annoying political phone calls.  Can someone explain to me why it is legal for my phone company to sell my phone number to these political hacks when I have requested to not be listed in the phone book?  Did you know that the two weeks before mid-term elections or 'regular' elections is when TiVo's usage and new subscriptions peak as well as DVR usage spikes?  No one wants to listen to baseless facts and distorted sound bites used to smear opponents so America records its favorite programs in order to fast forward through the drivel, whining, accusations, and lies. 

It is no wonder that the cynicism level of Americans is at an all-time high in regards to politics.  Who would trust, admire or want to aspire to be like the man or woman who was responsible for the content of the ads?  "Hi, my name is Jane Doe and I approve this message."  Really?  You, Jane or John Doe, did really approve of your campaign headquarter's decision to run the both obnoxious and noxious ads on your behalf?  Shame on you and shame on your opponent. 

The cost of these ads?  Unbelievable amounts have been spent on these political campaigns.  Money that could have been spent on homelessness, joblessness, illiteracy, public health issues, education, etc.  Shame on all of us for tolerating this senseless waste of money and for what?  Electing the best of the worst?

Yesterday I proposed a tongue-in-cheek rally to restore Law and Order and Law and Order - Criminal Intent.  Today I am proposing a real rally - The Rally To Restore Common Decency and Respect, but I cannot think of a single politician (or comedian) who is capable or qualified to rally for decency and respect.  If we, as a nation, think we've been wading through an economic low, then I maintain that our level of common decency and respect for one another has reached its nadir and I fear there is an even lower point that we are not even aware of and that is not supposed to be possible from the point of nadir.

November 2nd, National Pepto Bismol Day......"plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is!"

Be sure to vote.....even if it is for the best of the worst.  At least we can say we exercised our right to vote.

Ancora imparo