Spring Didn’t Get the Memo

Photo Coronavirus 1

Texas Bluebonnets welcome us each morning, as we begin our hike

Spring didn’t get the memo today
Flowers bloomed while birds blissfully sang
Quarantined within these lovely surroundings
Making sense of the yin and the yang

There’s a long grocery line and I imagine
The cart handle is a ballet bar
I can use it to exercise, but one yoga downward dog
And my husband says he’s headed to the car

I’ve come to appreciate simple pleasures
Like a six-foot visit with a neighbor on the street
Or ordering local takeout
Always good, but now delicious to eat

Some neighborhoods open their windows nightly
And in unison they happily sing
Parents and children spend precious time together
Something only hunkering down can bring

Be comforted that we’ll be well read, well fed
And most probably binge watched out
Remember there’s always a beginning, a middle and an end
This too shall pass, there’s absolutely no doubt

And, when we open our doors and reenter the world
Heads held high, though needing a hairdresser’s touch
We’ll be thankful that spring reminded us to be grateful
For our country, state and city that mean so much

Photo Coronavirus 2

Nothing like a message in a tree to start the day right

 

Author’s Note:
If you enjoyed this post, please scroll down and like it and feel free to share it.

 

It’s Never Too Late for Fate

She ripped the letter open while still standing in her driveway. Her old college boyfriend had written to those he’d had past friendships with, explaining that since his wife had died, he was looking to rekindle relationships to fill the void. Her life passed in front of her, as she remembered the fun they’d had together, how their lives had veered off in different directions, how her marriage wasn’t the fairy tale she had envisioned.

She walked into the house and called him, the letter still in her hand. She could tell by his voice that he was overjoyed to hear from her. Before she knew it, she had accepted an invitation to visit him. By their second meeting, he told her that he’d lost her once, and was not about to let it happen again. No one had given her those butterflies in her stomach for a very long time. As she sat on the plane, heading to her new home, she knew that moving in with him was her destiny, never having envisioned another chance for true love.

Single and living in the same community, they seemed to have a lot in common. The two women soon became exercise buddies and prodded each other into attending more neighborhood events together.

When a close family relation died, she knew she would be there for her new friend. She politely made small talk as she was introduced to the other guests at the funeral. When she met her friend’s cousin, she was taken aback. He was so charming and easy to talk to. They made plans to meet for dinner the next day and a romance blossomed from there. Little did she know what fate was awaiting her and what an interesting story of their meeting she would have.

Enough! After years of laboring on match.com as if it were a part time job and with no success, she was ready to exit the online dating world, except for one thing: she had forgotten that her account self-renewed, since she hadn’t canceled it ahead of time. Annoyed, she took a friend’s advice and went on a few “last” dates, just to get her money’s worth.

They lived so far apart that they planned to meet half way. She was already telling herself that this was a mistake. He had a nice smile and seemed like an interesting person. What she couldn’t get over was how he seemed to listen to her every word. In time, the distance didn’t seem to matter.

This wasn’t their first rodeo; they knew what they wanted out of life, so they went for it, but not in the traditional way. They bought a house together, went on a European honeymoon and then got married. Her terrible divorce, her cancer; it all seemed like someone else’s life. Now it was her time to shine.

What makes these stories even sweeter is that the heroines range in age from 55 – 69 years young. They never expected to find love, but said it found them. Sometimes we need to hop into the back seat and let the universe steer us to exactly where we belong.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Author’s Note:
I would greatly appreciate your input; if you enjoyed this post, please scroll down and like it!

Rats, Another Chinese New Year!

Photo Chinese New Year 1

It was a typical Friday evening (or so I thought). I had made a dinner reservation at one of JC’s* favorite restaurants after she had experienced a particularly trying week. It seems that the bird watching club she was so excited to join was too far to travel to. On top of that, she was just told that she was now on the waitlist for free ukulele lessons. In the spirit of the upcoming Lunar New Year celebration, I made a reservation for the three of us (me, JC and Mr. Wiz*) to dine at Lin Asian Bar.

I didn’t realize the cup was full of water. The interesting metal cup looked vintage and when I picked it up to get a better look, it spilled all over me. As our waiter, Kanye, ran over to help clean it up, I said: “And, I didn’t even have a glass of wine yet.” His reply: “It should be interesting when you do” immediately endeared me to him.

Kanye asked if I knew that spilling water meant good luck in Chinese tradition. He told us that while helping his stern grandmother move to a new home, he accidently spilled some water on her floor. Rather than being chastised, she hugged him and thanked him for the blessing. The evening was starting out better than I’d thought.

This is the Year of the Rat. In Chinese culture, the rat symbolizes wealth and because of its reproduction rate, couples pray to them for children. Also known as Lunar New Year, this holiday marks the start of the Chinese lunar calendar and was originally a time to pray to the gods for a good harvest. It’s the longest Chinese holiday and celebrates with the most fireworks set off in the world. Because the elderly Chinese live in rural areas and most of their children live in cities, the country experiences the largest human migration in the world during this holiday period. Singles actually go to the extreme of hiring fake boyfriends or girlfriends to bring home to family festivities, rather than be interrogated about their personal lives.

In order to not wash away any good luck, showering is not recommended on new year’s day and no sweeping or trash pickup is allowed for a few days. Red decorations adorn homes, people dress in red and children receive monetary gifts in red envelopes to signify good fortune.

After a couple of restaurant visits, I am now able to master the Shanghai Soup Dumplings: lift the broth filled dumpling carefully into the small cup without breaking it, prick it with your chopsticks, pour the sauce over it, eat the dumpling then drink the broth. We ate slowly, enjoying our wine pairing and hoping that our Orange Peel Beef and Seafood Delight with Birds Nest (assorted seafood in a crispy potato shaped nest) might last longer.

By the time we sipped our usual hot sake instead of dessert, Kanye had explained the custom of kissing each others’ foreheads for good fortune. As we left and thanked him for a wonderful evening, he shared with us that his name was actually not Kanye, but he liked the sound of it, so found no need to correct us.

We walked home, arm in arm, laughing as we recounted the interesting evening. Giddy, still damp and with a kiss from Kanye on my forehead, I could only speculate how this good fortune might present itself in the coming year.

Photo Chinese New Year 2

Me and Kanye (who’s not really Kanye)

 

 

*Who’s who? See “Cast of Characters” on the “About” page.

Author’s Note:

I would greatly appreciate your input; if you enjoyed this post, please scroll down and like it!

 

The Tale of the Sales Pitch

Photo Tale of a Sales Pitch


House rule: we always open every piece of mail. Remembering Mr. Wiz’s* astonishment, a while back, in receiving a $300 rebate from his old insurance company, I recently ripped open both sides of an envelope that urged me to open it immediately.

We’ve all seen these invitations before; listen to a presentation in exchange for a gift of some sort. This one caught my eye, only because of the gift: two- round trip tickets to anywhere in the continental United States, a two-night stay at a top hotel and a $50 restaurant gift card.

Curious, I called the 800 number and was told that this travel agency promoted themselves via one-on-one presentations, rather than utilizing other forms of advertising.

With a background in sales, I was intrigued to see how these experts might elevate their craft to an art form. The two airline tickets and the fact that the presentation was in a classy downtown hotel made me decide to reserve a space.

We arrived early and greeted the woman sitting outside the conference room. Wondering how she could possibly be so irritated at such an early hour, she looked up, handed us a clip board and told us to fill out the information without acknowledging us at all. I named her Ms. Morose (aka Ms. M).

The doors opened and we were ushered in, along with two elderly couples. The body language of the two gentlemen accompanying their wives conveyed immediately that they were coerced into attending. Personally, I would have removed the two tables that sat in the back empty.

Before we had a chance to chat with our neighbors, the master of ceremonies leaped into the room and introduced himself. Because of his Hawaiian shirt, perpetual smile and game show host voice, I gave him the title Mr. Carnival Barker (aka Mr. CB). In between photos of exotic destinations, we were told that joining this members-only travel agency (brokers that cut out the middlemen) would discount our travel by at least 50%.

We were then introduced to our personal consultant (Ms. M and Mr. CB turned out to be the other consultants). A large black man with a sweet face, he shook our hands and joked that, by his accent, we could probably guess that he was from Alabama. He later mentioned that he was actually was from Senegal. Having to repeat his introduction three times before we understood him, we settled in at the edge of our seats and politely tried to focus intently on every word that Mr. Senegal, my name for him (aka Mr. S) had to say.

It seemed that Mr. S. was also the closer. With a broad smile, he assured us that the $3995 we would spend, along with the $199 per year was a small price to pay for the deep discounts offered us.

By the time we looked up, the two grouchy husbands and their spouses were nowhere to be seen. It was time for Mr. S. to throw in the discounts and specials that he had been hiding in his back pocket. Though he mentioned more than once that the offer expired once we exited the room, we were unsure why he wrote his name and cell number down for us.

We declined the offer and said our goodbyes, still wondering, if this was their one shot at a sale, why the staff was not as professional as expected and not dressed for success. Exiting the room and walking down the hall, I heard Ms. M. call me back to her desk. As I returned, she said in her monotone voice “I’ll need that pad back” Mini paper hoarder that I am, I had put the white lined 8 x 11 inch pad under my arm.

All in all, I learned a lot that day: first impressions are important, never make a big decision before sleeping on it, if it seems too good to be true it probably is and the secret to success for multimillion dollar companies is keeping an eye on those 25 cent pads.

Postscript: The coupon for the airline tickets, hotel stay and dining did arrive along with a request for credit card information to cover taxes and fees totaling $450. I figure I still came out ahead; I made scrap paper out of the coupon, still have the Sheraton Hotel pen and got the idea for this post.

 

*Who’s who? See “Cast of Characters” on the “About” page.

Say What You Mean and Mean What You Say

 

Photo Say What You Mean

All she said was to make it a big anniversary celebration. All he heard was pig anniversary celebration. Hence, a suite at the Pig Palace, famous for Swine and Wine Night.

It only takes one gift of a toaster on your birthday or anniversary to get your attention. Why do we always assume that people know what we want, think or feel? Why do we shy away from saying exactly what we mean?

According to Psychology Today, most people tend to shrink from conflict and tolerate its consequences. Assertiveness need not be confused with aggressiveness. Addressing a situation sooner, rather than later, clears the air while it is still fresh in our minds. Letting someone know how their behavior impacted us can be accomplished openly and honestly without harboring any animosity. Saying something as simple as “You hurt my feelings” can begin a dialogue that hopefully leads to shared insights.

Think of how many misunderstandings could have been sorted out with a bit of discussion and how much ill will could have been prevented. Wouldn’t you rather have family and friends be aware of your honest feelings, rather than have you silently stewing over something that happened years ago?

Assumption is the cause of many a frustrating circumstance. Take the case of the innocent shopping list. Grateful that her husband agreed to do the grocery shopping, the methodical wife made a detailed list for him. Numbering each item, she realized on his return that he thought those numbers referred to the number of items he was to purchase. As they unloaded one bag of sugar, two bags of potatoes all the way up to 20 bags of dog food from their trunk, the conversation escalated into an argument, later the humorous anecdote shared at cocktail parties.

With a little information from Psychology Today, we could try honing our listening skills. As an active listener, we would seek to understand by questioning until we have that “ah-hah” moment. A reflective listener strives to clarify what they’ve heard. Either way, wouldn’t it be nice to know exactly what your spouse’s expectations are on a special occasion, what a pal’s meaning of friendship really is and what your boss’s comment about reaching your potential meant?

Following my own advice on behavioral styles, I decided to immediately confront Mr. Wiz* and Big A* on that fateful birthday I received the toaster. As they sat across from me, with expressions that mimicked a deer in headlights, I explained my disappointment. Waiting for a reply, they both suggested that I first look inside the toaster slots. Feeling particularly crumby, I had no choice, at that point, but to hug them dearly, the spa gift certificate still in my hand.

 

*Who’s who? See “Cast of Characters” on the “About” page.

 

 

 

Language Lost

Photo Lost Language

My hairdresser looked at me quizzically. She didn’t know what dungarees were. When I pointed out they were the pants she was wearing, she nodded and said “…Oh, you mean jeans…” It made me wonder how many perfectly good words in our vocabulary have been left to languish and finally vanish over time.

As jeans stylishly faded, so did dungarees. Dungarees were named after the thick, cotton cloth exported from India to England during British colonial times. Jeans borrowed its name from Genoa, Italy a more recent source of cloth. Wearing jeans evokes sipping a cappuccino at a café in high heels with legs crossed. Dungarees conjures up sweating while shoveling manure in the barn.

The dicky (also spelled dickie or dickey) began as a shirt front worn with a tux in the early 1900s and by the late 1900s transformed into a turtleneck sweater without the sweater. The over the head addition to any wardrobe created less bulk, both on the wearer and in his closet. Thought to be a classic fashion trend, you would be hard pressed to find even one Dicky of the Month club nowadays.

No one is sure how calf length trousers got their start or their name back in the 1950s. Rumor has it that no designer wanted their name associated with these pants that all of a sudden stopped midstream down your leg. Whether you called them pedal pushers or clam diggers, the short pants or long shorts just didn’t make the cut.

Culinary terms can also evaporate. The Jell-O salad jiggled its way onto everyone’s table until sneaky cooks started hiding yesterday’s leftovers in it. Fondue warmed our hearts until double dippers gave us concern for germs.

The biggest disappointment to me, personally, is the disappearance of Pig Latin. An easy to understand, made up language, it served its rightful purpose whenever speaking in code became necessary. No apps, language classes or tutors necessary; just transfer the first letter of a word to the end and add the suffix “ay.” Any boar can say “…Let’s meet at seven…,” but state it as “…Etslay eetmay taay evensay..” and you will really hog the conversation.

There’s no one stopping us from adopting a few of our favorite extinct words and casually dropping them into a sentence or two during the course of the day. Who knows? This could start a new trend of vintage vocabulary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copycats; Imitating Nature

Photo Biomimicry

The answers have been there all along. According to its definition, biomimicry is an approach to innovation that utilizes proven strategies and designs that have already been adapted by nature. In other words, we are now learning from nature, rather than about nature.

The bumps on the flippers of the humpback whale help them to “grip” the water. This aerodynamic characteristic has been used in the design of wind turbines and is working to enhance the safety and performance of airplanes.

Modeling the front of a European hi-speed train after the beak of a kingfisher created a quieter ride and the use of 15 percent less electricity while the train traveled 10 percent faster.

Emulating a dolphin’s unique frequency capabilities, a high-performance underwater system has been developed as a tsunami warning system.

I happen to dabble in Biomimetics on the side. It doesn’t take long to discover that the natural world is chock full of concepts that are just begging to be adapted. In the course of my research, some stood out more than others. Calls to the Biomimicry Institute have gone unanswered, but I continue to persevere.

Make room, $2.5 billion dating market; here’s a new concept that will revolutionize the dating world. No more wondering if you should wait three days to call or if you talked too much at dinner; imitating the sage grouse mating rituals eliminates the stress and cuts to the chase. The male struts, fans his tail much like that of a peacock and makes a strange popping sound in order to attract a female mate; done! Call it the “Magic Mike” of the bird world, but I think there might be something to this.

The next time you shoo away ants, take the time to actually view a colony at work. Jobs are defined and assigned. Teamwork and organization are key. Persistence counteracts any obstacles and goals are met. No fancy business consultants are required to run this operation like a well-oiled machine. Instead of those expensive employee team building activities, I envision Ant 101; groups of employees out in a park, laying on the ground on their stomachs with iPads and laptops, documenting their tiny compadres’ remarkable achievements.

The bad news: a female polar bear gains 400 pounds during pregnancy. The good news: during delivery, she digs a maternity den in a snowdrift, hibernates for two months and actually sleeps through her pregnancy. Baby shower, dig, hibernate, baby, SlimFast for a year or two; call me crazy, but this just might beat out the new luxury birthing experiences being touted lately. I’m sure there are women out there that would trade a mani pedi for hibernation. Oh, and after two years, baby polar bears have been completely acclimated to their surroundings and are sent out on their own; no college bills and the longest empty nesting in history!

I now have a newfound respect for the environment. Each time I visit a zoo, hear a bird singing in a tree or watch a flower bloom, I’ll remember to slow down and wonder if we’ll all be mirroring them someday soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Savor the Small

Photo Savor the Small

The older woman at the gym looked right at me as if she knew me and spoke. “…Seeing Rachel so clean made me so happy this morning. After we washed her last time we tried running over with the car to try to squeeze the water out…” I had intended to make a quick exit, but my curiosity got the better of me. “And, who’s Rachel?..” I asked. “…Oh, it’s the rug that our cat sleeps on. She loves it because it’s the same color as her mom, Rachel was, so we named it Rachel the Rug…” And with that, she bid me farewell, leaving me to scratch my head and smile, as I was reminded of how those small things in life can bring us such joy.

I started listening a bit more intently to those around me to see if I could pick up any of the delights in their lives. One friend said that, on entering the kitchen each morning, just the sight of the coffeepot, sugar bowl and the creamer waiting to be filled warms her. Another shared that he loves to sit on his porch and sing along to old cowboy songs. A comment I’d heard more than once was that sitting down with a good book was like welcoming back an old friend.

Every morning, I look forward to my first sip of hot tea and I enjoy the quiet that comes from locking myself in our study. After I get comfortable on the sofa, I gaze across the room at the bookshelf and look at each memento; a photo or an object that reminds me of some chapter of my life. I say a few prayers and try to meditate. Then, the laptop comes out and I begin writing. When I finally open those French doors to begin my day, I feel utterly refreshed.

These occurrences we’re personally experiencing each day, though miniature in size, have a way of counteracting the complex, fast-paced routines of our daily lives. It’s life’s balancing act, prompting us to ride the wave, but not to let it drown us.

The phone ringing and Big A’s* voice on the other end saying …”Hey there!..,” the way Mr. Wiz* interlocks my pinky with his on days when it’s just too warm out to hold hands, an old family photo album, cooking to the sound of a favorite song; these are the things I want to make sure I hold close. What are the tiny treasures in your life?

 

*Who’s who? See “Cast of Characters” on the “About” page.

 

A Toast to My Dad

Photo FLC FD

After the first sip of their martini, the conversation was to begin. The plan was to meet my parents and announce that Mr. Wiz* and I had decided to move in together. Since my dad, of Latin descent, had never even grasped the concept of a children’s sleep over and that remained forbidden territory, it seemed only right to welcome cocktails into the discussion.

Mr. Wiz took a deep breath and, in his deep, professional voice, presented our strategy. He started off by letting his deep feelings for me be known. If we shared a household, we would then be able to lease a showroom for the business we owned together. Both having already been divorced, we would then take our time and let the relationship blossom.

The uncomfortable silence was broken when my dad slowly took a sip of his martini, looked Mr. Wiz straight in the eyes from across the table and said “…What?! How well do we know you? Let me tell you something; one call and I could have your legs broken. Do you understand what I’m saying?..”

After that, things got a bit fuzzy. I remember yelling “…Daddy!..,” jumping up from the table and heading to the ladies room with JC* following behind me. As she wiped away my tears, I remember JC explaining that when you were born in Hell’s Kitchen (a section of New York City whose ambiance needs no explanation), this was almost a prerequisite to a family welcome.

I calmed down and we both headed back to the table, not knowing what to expect. To my surprise, my dad and Mr. Wiz were leaning in toward each other, talking and laughing as if nothing had happened. That was the start of a beautiful relationship and to this day, what transpired during their secret meeting has never been divulged.

From humble beginnings and with little formal education, he had no choice but to put his head down and forge ahead, until each of his goals were accomplished. Once successful, his go big or go home attitude was tempered with his advice to always stay just a little under what you could afford.

When he would instill in me that I should do it right or not at all, I’m sure I’d roll my eyes and then begin again, methodically working toward an end goal that would make us both proud.

The first time he announced his belief that everyone is No. 1 after you, I thought it extremely selfish until I realized that, once again, he was right. Now, every time an airline instructs us to place our oxygen mask on first before assisting others, I can’t help but smile.

How many times since his passing have I wondered what he would’ve done in a similar situation. And, how many times have I known just what to do.

Happy Father’s Day!

 

*Who’s who? See “Cast of Characters” on the “About” page.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*Who’s who? See “Cast of Characters” on the “About” page.

 

Do You Portmanteau?

Photo Portmanteau

Move over, Abba, Ikea and meatballs, there’s a new Swedish trend that’s cleaning up. Leave it to those Swedes; they are able to bewilder us and create a new fitness craze all at the same time. According to a recent issue of American Way (the American Airlines magazine), picking up litter while jogging (plogging) benefits the environment and your body all at once. In fact, ploggers burn 175 more calories an hour than mere joggers. Already popular in Europe, plogging is on its way to a jogging trail near you.

Which makes me wonder; is Sweden on to something? Maybe we should take multitasking to a new level by combining activities that have no reason to be intermingled and jumble them together just for the heck of it.

We can thank the French for the creation of words such as smog (smoke and fog) and motel (motor and hotel). Back in the 16th century the first portmanteau (two words combined into a new one) was spoken and the fascination of coining new words continues to this day.

Writing has always been known as a solitary endeavor. What would happen if you merged it with some free form hopping? Wopping might loosen you up, unlock your creativity and give you a cardio workout all at the same time. Still in the trial stage, some writer’s clubs have reported back that even though some volunteer woppers have experienced motion sickness and larger than normal paper cuts, they have all since bounced back and the research study continues.

Most likely, nothing good will come from trinking (texting while drinking). I imagine bars displaying signs with a big red line through this newly created word to remind its guests that one loose trink can alter your life. Somewhere, someone working out of their parents’ garage will come up with an Apple iPhone application that will be able to sense the alcohol level of the phone’s owner, have a black coffee delivered to its location, lock the phone and have Siri provide a lecture the next day about responsibility.

Psychologists interviewed were curiously optimistic about finging (fighting while singing). Now you would be able to get out your aggression in the musical style of your choice. Imagine two men in a parking lot, one scratched car and the sounds of Pavarotti and Snoop Dog echoing through the air. Couples counseling would take on the rhythm of a Broadway Show, with some husbands and wives actually breaking into a tap dance number. Fingers would be snapped, toes would be tapped and harmony would prevail.

In a perfect world, we would not need to link our words together. We could live life one word at a time, giving each one its due, articulating its meaning and savoring its uniqueness. A word to the wise; use your portmanteaus prudently.