You are currently browsing the category archive for the 'Musings...' category.
Purchase this photo and others like it at Istockphoto.com
The house is quiet. While my family sleeps, the only sounds I can hear are the fans in each room moving the night air and cooling us quite comfortably. My fingers click on the laptop keys, but the sound is almost impossible even for me to hear over the turbine sounding fan in our bedroom or the semi-squeaky ceiling fan above me. The little pedestal fan to my right hardly makes a whisper. Occasionally, a sound from outside enters. A car passing by, a dog bark, and then, way off in the distance somewhere, a siren.
I love this time of night. I love the silence, the solitude, and especially when I look around my home and see swept floors, clear counters, straightened cushions, and know that everything is in its place. It’s an amazing feeling. It’s as though I can tell, by the silence, the order, and the slight scent of Clorox drifting in from the bathroom that all is right with the world. To me, times like this are the embodiment of the word serenity.
Well, today was an interesting day. I created my July blog banner and eagerly ran over to look and see how it looked. The cool picture that looked so neat on istock looked hideous on my banner. Three istock credits wasted. I’m so dish-illusioned (name that movie.) So I sat and stared for a bit and then realized that I should be using some of the amazing digi-scrap elements and papers that I have. Of course, this is July and in this month we celebrate my birthday and the birthday of our country. I don’t have any Americana digi-scrap elements. Uh oh!
Off I ran to Google them. My brilliant friend Kim informed me that the best way to find what I want is to look for forums where people have asked. So I go do that. Nada. However, being a kind as well as brilliant friend, she pulled up a pile of suggestions for me and I hurried over to Sweet Shoppe Designs to see what I could see. And LOOK what I found! Isn’t it coolified???
The designer is Dani Mogstad and I love quite a bit of her things. I like how she provides enough to do a clean look but not so simple that it is boring either. It seemed to have a nice balance to me.
An interesting thing I found, however, is that designing on a 720×180 pixel canvas is much more difficult than a 12×12 inch page! MUCH more difficult! However, it’ll be good for me. I don’t usually have trouble making pages that I like. Most others might find them sparse or aesthetically unappealing but for me, I like them and that’s good, right? Gulp. Well, I’m finding that doing this banner was harder so I think I’m going to make this a regular thing each month. It’ll challenge my creativity and every year on my birthday I can do a blog post showing how I’ve grown, matured, and improved as a “scrapper” in the blog banner design realm. Snort.
In addition to that, I’m going to showcase the work of the designer(s) whose elements and papers I use. What a fun way to give them a ‘thumbs up’ for all their hard work. Do visit their shoppes. See what they have to offer… splurge and buy a kit or three. But after you do, USE IT. Don’t just file it away for ‘later’… grab a few pictures from your memory card and DO somethign with it. Your family will thank you one day. Forget that, YOU’ll thank you one day.
Purchase at istockphoto.com
We’ve all done it. We’ve given someone a gift certificate, cash, or check and said, “now you can’t use this for bills…”
Forgive me if I’ve ever done it to you. It isn’t a gift if the strings attached strangle the recipient. I will never again be a part of a gift that limits the recipient in how it is used. I’m grieved to see what should be a blessing become a burden because of the expectations of others. I know we have our dreams and goals and ideals that we want for others, but those are our dreams, our goals, our desires… it’s wrong to insist that others be like us in how they use our gifts.
Mom and Dad were so good about never attaching strings to gifts. They made it clear: if you give a gift, the second it’s out of your hands, it is no longer your business. You have no say in where they display it, how they use it, or what they do with it. They can give it away, abuse it, destroy it, sell it, or toss it in the garbage. They can spend the cash you gave for a nice meal out on groceries, the vet bill, or orange and green pantyhose. It’s none of your business the second it leaves your possession.
Being a gracious giver is just as important as being a gracious recipient. So please, before you give a gift, when you snip off the price tag, cut the strings too.
I was just thinking about whatever vacation I would take if I could do anything I wanted to right now in that particular department. For a moment, my breath shortened, heart pounded, and I broke out in a cold sweat. I hate vacations. I know that sounds terrible, but I do. For me, vacations mean weeks of sewing, shopping, planning, and decisions. LOTS of decisions. It means getting cars serviced, mail stopped, substitutes for paper routes, and someone to feed the dog. Vacations mean living on weird meals so I can leave the fridge empty, scrubbing the house so we come home to a clean one, and making last minute trips to pay the garbage bill because without fail, it’ll come due while we’re gone. After all of that, all I have to do is get a list of doctor names, Rx numbers, addresses, phone numbers, email addresses, and a sheaf of print-outs for hotel reservations. Oh joy. Yeah. Now times that by 9 so I can get the kids and Kevin out the door well-stocked for the trip too. Oh, speaking of stocking, let’s not forget snacks, breakfasts, and other things like that to shop for. UGH.
So, the idea of a dream vacation didn’t really appeal to me. Sure there are places I’d like to see. I love the idea of going to India, Scotland, New England, Nova Scotia, Michigan (don’t ask… it’s just always appealed to me), and a dozen other places. I’d love to visit mom and dad, Kevin’s mom, my sister, my aunts and uncles in Oklahoma, Noemi in Texas, the Kansas Kiersten/Kirstins, Dell… oh my the list goes on and on. I like sleeping in nice hotel rooms and eating at restaurants. It’s fun to eat where you can have those things you aren’t willing to make at home.
Suddenly, in the middle of my ruminitions, I realized exactly where I’d like to spend my dream vacation and the work involved in getting there made it worth it. I’d be willing to pack the suitcases, do the shopping… the works.
Picture it: Comfortable accomodations, excellent food, a wide variety of reading and viewing material, cultural events if you choose, driving distance to almost anything you’d want to experience, and all without half of the stress and hassle of most vacations. One week of uninterrupted bliss… at home. Turn off the phone, disconnect the internet, put a note on the door “On Vacation- try again next week.”
I tried figuring out what it’d cost me… just for fun you know.
- A maid. Pay someone to come in every day for a week and wash clothes, clean kitchen (We’re not cooking so not much work), clean bathrooms, and make beds. $150?
- New sheets for my bed. Because I love them. $50.00
- Breakfast, lunch, and dinner “out” every day $150.00 per day
- Gas $10-80 dollars per day (depending on what we did)
- Child Care 3x- $100.00
- Mini Van Rental for 1 week- $370.00
Of course, there’d be other expenses… if we went to a zoo, we’d pay the zoo. If we went to the beach, we might buy boogie boards or do souvenier shopping… but all in all, not a bad vacation and no need for expensive hotels, packing everyone up and trying to keep the van nice for a week… Just staying home and BEING would be fun.
Then again… the ultimate dream is that we do all of that… and the kids go stay with grandma!
I’m on a rampage. I get this way sometimes. It’s just who I am. Sue me.
So, it started with the sock basket. I hate that thing. I truly despise the existence of a basket in my home where my lazy family (and yes, myself included) shovels unmatched socks rather than taking the 5 minutes it would take to match them. (Or the seconds it’d take to slip a Sock-Mate over them when you took them off and they’d never have to match socks again!). When we first got married, I didn’t have a sock basket. If a sock happened not to have a mate (happened every load to a sock or two), then I’d leave it in the basket and when it was time to do the next load, I’d match em up again… if I noticed a sock just never seemed to have the mate, I tossed it. Somewhere around child six, that pile grew… multiplied, and finally filled its own basket. I hated it but I was too busy nursing babies, trying to keep the house reasonably clean, and working on another kid with phonics to deal with it. Well, now I have time to ensure it gets done, but do I? Erm… no.
So, about once a year (or in desperate times, twice), I pull out the basket, toss everything in it, run to Walmart, and spend $75 on socks for the family. It’s sanity saver and cheaper than the per hour rate of therapy so I’ve justified it for the past ten years or so.
Today, I broke my “tradition”. I picked up that basket, started to heave it into the trash can, and wondered how long it’d take me to match them all. I wondered how much money I’d save if I forced the match. I also got a kick out realizing I could rub it in my “green daughter’s” face that I did what she wouldn’t have wanted to do for anything. Match socks instead of tossing them. HA. Snort.
I discovered some interesting things while I matched those socks. There were socks that were permanently stained with grungy bottoms– ick! Other socks, looked like they’d been worn once… or not at all. They were pristine– gorgeous. I loved stroking their perfect loveliness. Some socks were a little stretched out or slightly thin, but there was a lot of good use in them. I liked them. They felt comfortable as I paired slightly misshapen pieces back with their mates and rolled them in their little sock balls. Some had been washed with bleach when the mate wasn’t or was washed with something that bled onto the sock. They matched… they were definitely mates… but they didn’t truly “match” anymore. My perfectionistic side wanted to toss them. The blue toes and heels were slightly different now. However, I kept them and decided that they were kind of like married couples. They start off in perfectly coordinated harmony at the wedding ceremony but after time of wear and tear together, they still “match” and work well together… probably better than ever, but they do have distinct characteristics that show now that life has made its impression on them.
That thought sent me into a whirlwind of sockology. I looked back at the holey worn out socks that I was tossing in the garbage bag and I wondered… do we do that with people? Once they’re not crisp and pretty anymore… once life has punctured them with the ugliness of this world do we cast them aside– out of sight and mind? I looked at the perfectly white ones and a similar thought came to mind. Were we drawn to people who “look good” on the outside because of their apparent perfection and yet we’re blind to the fact that they’ve not done much? Somehow I pictured Sally Spiritual sitting in her pew at church. Her pristine Bible open to the right passage, her perfect clothing, spotless children, handsome husband, and their life seemingly perfect… does it call to us? Do we admire her when we should pity her? Perhaps she wants to work but no one will see that she’s capable of doing anything but looking sweet and spiritual. Perhaps she’s lonely sitting in her sock basket pew while she waits for someone to choose her. I know when I pick two pairs of socks, I choose ones that look like they have equal wear to them so they truly match. Do we do that to our perceived “perfect people”? Do we assume they’re only good for show?
The stretched out and comfy socks warmed my heart when I started imagining them as people. You know someone like that, don’t you? The woman who every time you see her just fits. She can be in the middle of a personal life crisis, she can be elbow deep in cleaning up a yucky baby bottom or painting the outside of her house, but when you arrive, she just “puts you on” like an old friend and makes you comfortable again. Those people seem to fit a wide variety of sizes… have you noticed?
I got a lesson from those socks today. I kind of liked it. For a moment, I was tempted to see what my underwear might tell me. Then I shuddered.
One of my favorite movies is Three Guys Named Mike. This movie is one of those delightfully innocent movies of the forties that just make you want to smile the whole way through. Rather than focus on your traditional love triangle, this move added another angle and made it a quadrangle. I’d give a big review of all the fun stuff in it, but most of the movie is irrelevant to my post so I think I’ll skip it for later.
Marci (the heroine of this comedy) is off to become an airline stewardess and gets some not-so-valuable advice from her father. “Don’t talk so much. Just say yes and no.” So she does and nearly loses the chance at her dream. However, thanks to her naturally talkative self, once the interviewer gets her going, she shows how personable she is and at this point (yes, I am coming to why I’m mentioning this movie) she said something I found very interesting. She said, “Thanks to airline travel, people all over the world are becoming neighbors.” Now, I don’t know about that… after all, not everyone can afford to travel. However, if you think about it, that’s the perfect description of the internet. I can talk to a friend in Ireland, a friend in Australia, a friend on the other side of town, and a friend in West Virgina… all at the same time.
Because of the internet, I’ve met so many people that otherwise, I’d never know. I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of praying a dear friend through brain tumors, another through the birth, health problems, and death of her beloved baby. I wouldn’t have had encouragement when my health went south or ‘family’ at Challice’s wedding. Because of the amazing thing that this internet is, we can know people we never would have met. We truly have become neighbors with the world.
I don’t want to pretend that the internet is the cure-all of humanity and doesn’t have its drawbacks. It does. It is very easy to lose a sense of physical community when you have such a wide and varied virtual one. It is easy, well for introverts like me, to stay holed up in their own homes, neglect the ‘real life’ relationships around them, and interact on a purely ‘online’ level. This, of course, isn’t best but for those who can’t get out it can be a way of still connecting with people on a very real level. I’m not calling for an abandonment of interpersonal relationships that take place face-to-face and provide much needed contact. However for the young mom at home with four sick children and a car that needs major work before she attempts to go visit a friend, it can be a life saver.
I’ve gotten to know so many people so much better being able to chat between helping a child with math, making dinner, and painting walls. I keep thinking, “The Internet- it does the Body good.” But unfortunately, if we’re not careful that’s a lie from the pit.
Anyway… regardless of its strengths and weaknesses, the internet has the ability to be a huge blessing in our lives, literally making neighbors of people who live thousands of miles away. I think that is absolutely amazing.
As Mother’s Day nears, I couldn’t help take a moment to “honor” memories. I don’t care who you are, you have good ones. Everyone has good ones. Some have more than others, I grant you, but if you think hard enough, you should easily be able to come up with a couple of dozen good ones. A birthday, an afternoon blowing bubbles, the day you won the talent contest at school, when grandpa said he was proud of you… whatever it is, I’ve never met anyone who if they changed their thinking, couldn’t find a few dozen, even if short, memories.
Those memories are all you have of the past. It’s gone. It can only be retrieved and relived in your mind. Most of my memories are of mundane things. A trip to the shopping mall, the feel of sand as I walked along the shore, or the lazy and comforting feel of the Santa Ana winds blowing around me on an early school morning.
About two years ago, I started writing down these memories. Well, typing them into a blog. I titled it, A Wonderful Life and as I say on my “About Me” page, George Bailey has nothing on me. It has been such a rewarding experience for me. I’ve described teachers who encouraged me, memories my father made with me, inside jokes between my mother and I… and each story has cemented in my mind, what a marvelous life I’ve truly had. Thank you Lord.
So, I want to encourage you. Take the time to write those memories down. Put them in a journal, type them into a blog, create scrapbooked pages of them and bind them in a book… however you do it, get them down. Then share them with your parents. If your parents are no longer with you, save them for your children. The day will come when they’ll treasure them. If you need help making the words flow, tape them into a recorder or even your digital camera and then transcribe them. Get a writer friend to edit it and make them a little more polished if you aren’t confident but honestly, the words coming from your own “lips” mean the most. Perfection isn’t the point. Completion is. Do it. You’ll never regret it and you’ll bless others when you do.
This is a short life we live here. Every moment of every day is a precious gift from the Lord. Cherish the memories of that gift and share them with others. You’ll receive a double blessing of the life lived and the memory retained and others will know that you appreciate what the Lord has done for you.
And… just because I want to share how much fun this has been… here are a couple of pages I’ve done for my parents’ memory book. I really need to get a move on! (And yes, there are a few errors that need correction!)
I plan a whole book of the stories I put on my blog as a gift for them. I’m curious- will they remember things as I do or will they not recognize the same events?
Or, one woman’s oversimplification of what is wrong with electing a third party president in 2012 (And trust me, I’d love to.)
The Hatfields (Democrats) and the McCoy’s (Republicans) have family in the Senate and in the House. They’re always fighting over who is stingy, who’s a spendthrift, and what should or shouldn’t be done.
The rest of the country are pretty fed up with them so instead of voting in another Hatfield or McCoy… they decide to vote in a Jones. This’ll fix it, right? Jones has a plan to clean up the house and the senate. He’s ready to sweep out the garbage and scrub down the halls. There’s only one problem. This isn’t a monarchy. Or a dictatorship. We don’t even have an Emperor. This is a republic (not a democracy which most people forget). The president doesn’t have much power. He can veto. He can suggest. But without the support of congress, his hands are tied.
The best way to get the Hatfields and McCoys on the SAME team is to pit them against a Jones president. Just voting in a Jones isn’t going to fix the problem.
However, if the Jones’ decided that they’d work to fill mayoral shoes, state representative shoes, gubernatorial shoes, senatorial shoes, and house shoes… (not slippers) then when they tried for White House shoes… there would be someone to help them work their agenda.
Until we have the third party we want, in city and state government as well as congressional seats, electing a third party president is a waste of another four years.
Or: How to rob a bank in Ridgecrest.
A funny thing happened on Saturday. Our family had pictures taken. While normally this would be humorous enough, this time, we had extraneous humor tacked on for good measure. Our friend and her boyfriend came along to snap the full family group shot and her boyfriend was thirsty. We’re at the college. It’s quite simple. Get a drink, right? So, he opens the door (it isn’t locked so opening is quite easy I might add) and BLAM! Alarms go off like it is Tiffany’s at midnight. Boyfriend runs. I mean, who wouldn’t?
Forty-five minutes or so later, we see an officer zipping up the hill. Every other minute or so for the next five or ten minutes another one zips up behind him. At least four or five officers and a sheriff arrived. Unfortunately, at that particular moment, we sent Nolan and Mike (the boyfriend) to get a pellet gun from the car for one of the picture shots. Can you see it? One of the officers, a friend of ours, questioned Mike. Mike explained what happened and eventually was allowed to go.
But, I still can’t stop thinking of the perfect Ridgecrest robbery. Go up to the college. Set off an alarm. Drive to the bottom of the hill. Wait for four or five cars to zip by… then race off to do the dastardly deed. All officers are far away looking for a crazy intruder and you are racing out of town with the loot.
Too bad stealing is a sin.
Comment Cards~
August 14, 2009 in Musings... | Tags: comment cards, customer service, dentists | Leave a comment
Have you ever received a comment card in the mail with a request that you fill it out? You know, you go to a hotel, a restaurant, or as in my case, a new dental office and before you know what happens, a little postage paid card arrives asking for input? I got one of those a week ago from my new dental office. They asked for a 1-5 rating from everything from ease of making an appointment, to staff professionalism and friendliness, to wait time. It wasn’t a lengthy card… only eight or ten questions. However, at the bottom it gave you a bit of space to write any suggestions for improvement.
I wrote. With the frustration we had over the wording of their registration and patient information forms, I suggested that they remove or amend the “could be pregnant” from the forms. To answer them honestly, any woman of childbearing years, with an intact uterus, who is actively engaging in activities that could cause pregnancy has the possibility of pregnancy no matter how unlikely. I am signing something that states what I say is 100% true. I can’t lie. So, I have to say it’s possible even if I’m on the pill! (Take a breath… I’m not taking oral contraceptives… this is just a point…. breathe… breathe…)
I got a call the other day. The office manager wanted to talk to me about that wording, apologized for the inconvenience and frustration, and asked for wording suggestions that might have made me feel more comfortable about signing it etc. A simple change from “Are you pregnant or could you be/is there a possibility you are” to “Are you pregnant or do you think you might be?” is a huge difference but more what they’re trying to know. I don’t know if they’ll change it, but for the first time ever, someone read the card, took it to heart, and tried to do something about it. I appreciate that.
I love my new dentist! Odd to say that I have a dentist when I don’t have any teeth though. Very odd.