Something is out of kilter. We seem to have gone wrong.
It offends me that retailers make their employees work on Thanksgiving. I understand essential services such as hospitals, fire, police, snow plowers. I even understand the mini mart for gas and whipped cream. But does Dollar Tree need to be open? Does Sears and Wal-Mart? Isn't this our national day of celebrating family and friends. Isn't this a time for time off with our families and friends?
My coworkers and I asked each other if we went out at 3 AM for Black Friday bargains. None of us had. I said there was nothing I wanted bad enough to go stand in line in the cold for. Then I changed my answer. I said I would shop in the middle of the night if I could get world peace. Sharon thought that most people wouldn't get out of bed even for that.
Today I demonstrated a Keurig coffee system. This is one of the single cup coffee makers that use little cups of coffee grounds to make one perfect cup of coffee. I can see it in an office where you offer clients a fresh cup of coffee. It is a nifty device, very clean and super easy to use... but. Yeah, but it costs a whole bunch for convenience. No grounds to clean up, no filters to replace. But how much time are we trading hard earned pay for? I can make a cup of Swiss Miss cocoa for about fifteen cents. Boil the water, dump the mix in a cup and then add water. Use a Keurig kcup and get it for at least fifty cents and under a minute. I am not afraid to clean a few grounds. One man complained that it couldn't be tied to a water line. He was upset that he would have to fill the reservoir. I kept pushing the ecological reusable filter cup that can be used with any coffee or tea.
At six o'clock, Sharon, Nita, Kathy, and I cleaned up. I had used six pitchers of water for the coffee demonstration and after refilling them a few hours before I had to dump four pitchers of clean water. It occurred to me how hard some people had to work for water that I was throwing away, how many miles they had to carry water from not so clean sources and here I was just dumping it down the drain. There was no way I could send it over to poor people. Sharon was pretty upset that she had to dispose of an unopened case of Tropicana Juice. There was nothing wrong with it but it had sat on her cart for two hours and could not be returned. OK, but it could not be given away. I would gladly have run it over to a shelter, but no. We couldn't take it home either. That would be stealing. How is it stealing if it was paid for?
Then I watched the news. Did you see the man who was almost trampled at the Buffalo Target? Did you see anyone trying to help him up? I saw people rushing past him to get their bargains and it made me sick. I have lived frugally for many years. My daughters went to school looking as slick as the rich kids because I am a bargain hunter extraordinaire. But there is nothing available in any store that would tempt me to abandon my humanity. It is just stuff and I wonder what those pushing, shoving people will think when they see themselves on the news. I hope it makes them as ashamed of themselves as I was for them, and that they will take a hard look at the hysteria they bought into.
On a lighter note, my bathroom is full of shredded toilet paper. The boys have figured out that I put it in a basket on the back of the toilet and have knocked it over. It can't stay on the holder because they unroll it. Pretty soon I am going to have to hang it from the ceiling. What good kitties!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Bean salad, an easy decision, a hard balance
Today I was hawking Paisley Farm 100% natural four bean salad. "If you like 3 bean salad, you'll love a fourth bean. $5.39 for a half gallon jar. You can throw half away and still come out ahead because you can't make it for this price. And you still have a jar to collect buttons." Oh, I was quite amusing and think I probably made my 25 jar quota. I did notice one thing though, people either love bean salad or hate it. There just is no middle ground.
It was funny to be calling out about the bean salad and see the reactions. People would come running over to sample it or they would visibly shudder. I am of the shuddering group and had no trouble commiserating with those who dislike it. I was very frank when people asked me what I thought of it. I said that people seemed to love it but I had a real dislike for canned green beans, my mother used to boil them.
I spoke with a number of women and told one to get herself a small portion from a regular deli if she liked it. There was no reason she couldn't enjoy something just because her husband didn't. I told her to treat herself better and she really seemed to appreciate it. On the other hand I told a woman who hated it but her husband liked it to either buy a small amount for himself or go to a restaurant.
There were foods my husband liked that I did not, such as beets and winter squash. On rare occasions I would prepare them. There are things that I like that nobody else in my family would eat, such as pickled herring or smoked salmon and whitefish. I wouldn't buy a jar of herring just for myself.
Over the years my husband and I grew apart in interests. He was a bike racer and when the children were young we attended many races. I liked art things and reading and being a stay at home mother. I went back to school and when we started the business I took a banquet server job to provide an income while we were working towards future success. I worked long crazy hours and was always tired and my feet hurt all the time.
My husband was a very talented semiprofessional singer and joined many choirs. I was tired and jealous of all the outside interests while our business limped along. I didn't know how to have fun. In later years, while I was working for the labor council, the most fun I had was marching through a Wal-Mart. I laughed with such abandon. We used to love to dance and I would laugh and laugh.
What does all this have to do with bean salad? I should have done more to enjoy my life. I should have bought and done things that brought me pleasure, (not bean salad, though) and I shouldn't have sent him off to find his own fun. I should have worked harder to provide pleasure at home and he should have worked harder including me in his interests. We both should have prioritized having fun together.
But all this is water under the bridge. What I want to convey is for couples to do things together, to try to accommodate each other's taste. You don't have to agree on bean salad, each person has their own tastes. But one doesn't have to give up one's own preferences to be a good spouse. And I bet, if asked, the other spouse doesn't want you to anyway. Go ahead and eat your bean salad if that is what you want. Surprise the other one with something they like that you don't. It is the little things that show self respect, and respect for the other that make a successful relationship, a balance of likes and dislikes and a fondness for creating happiness.
It was funny to be calling out about the bean salad and see the reactions. People would come running over to sample it or they would visibly shudder. I am of the shuddering group and had no trouble commiserating with those who dislike it. I was very frank when people asked me what I thought of it. I said that people seemed to love it but I had a real dislike for canned green beans, my mother used to boil them.
I spoke with a number of women and told one to get herself a small portion from a regular deli if she liked it. There was no reason she couldn't enjoy something just because her husband didn't. I told her to treat herself better and she really seemed to appreciate it. On the other hand I told a woman who hated it but her husband liked it to either buy a small amount for himself or go to a restaurant.
There were foods my husband liked that I did not, such as beets and winter squash. On rare occasions I would prepare them. There are things that I like that nobody else in my family would eat, such as pickled herring or smoked salmon and whitefish. I wouldn't buy a jar of herring just for myself.
Over the years my husband and I grew apart in interests. He was a bike racer and when the children were young we attended many races. I liked art things and reading and being a stay at home mother. I went back to school and when we started the business I took a banquet server job to provide an income while we were working towards future success. I worked long crazy hours and was always tired and my feet hurt all the time.
My husband was a very talented semiprofessional singer and joined many choirs. I was tired and jealous of all the outside interests while our business limped along. I didn't know how to have fun. In later years, while I was working for the labor council, the most fun I had was marching through a Wal-Mart. I laughed with such abandon. We used to love to dance and I would laugh and laugh.
What does all this have to do with bean salad? I should have done more to enjoy my life. I should have bought and done things that brought me pleasure, (not bean salad, though) and I shouldn't have sent him off to find his own fun. I should have worked harder to provide pleasure at home and he should have worked harder including me in his interests. We both should have prioritized having fun together.
But all this is water under the bridge. What I want to convey is for couples to do things together, to try to accommodate each other's taste. You don't have to agree on bean salad, each person has their own tastes. But one doesn't have to give up one's own preferences to be a good spouse. And I bet, if asked, the other spouse doesn't want you to anyway. Go ahead and eat your bean salad if that is what you want. Surprise the other one with something they like that you don't. It is the little things that show self respect, and respect for the other that make a successful relationship, a balance of likes and dislikes and a fondness for creating happiness.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Great Big Reality Check
I joined a wonderful health and fitness center and have made a financial commitment to getting in better shape. No excuses, there are classes in everything from aerobics to Zumba. On Tuesday, I tried water exercise before work and afterwards felt quite energetic for the rest of the day. On Wednesday, I had a one on one meeting with a personal trainer. She did a health assessment, taking measurements, (don't ask, I won't tell) and setting goals. I was really honest and didn't just say what I thought she wanted to hear. There is no way I would drive all the way down there to work out on the machines and weights by myself, not even for a half hour. I'm a social person and need others to motivate me with someone leading the way. Trouble is, after the first session, personal trainers are not free. So classes it is. Which brings us to yesterday. Oy!
Since I didn't have to be in to work until noon, I decided to try Forever Fit Strength, "Our famous low impact exercise class designed to improve muscle tone, strengthen the heart and lungs, and burn away calories. Very popular with exercisers over 50 but is open to everyone." I'm 58, sounds perfect, no little chickies. I entered the studio to find I was in the company of old people. I had to have been the youngest one there by at least ten years. I introduced myself to the instructor and told her I have exercised induced asthma and didn't have an inhaler with me. (I'm having a physical on Saturday morning.) She told me they started out slow and to do what I could, take breaks when necessary. I took up a position a few rows back so I wouldn't be in front of the mirror and off we went. Sandy took us through quite an energetic warm up, no problem. Then we started working with hand weights and I was still OK. Then she took up the pace and I thought I would die. I lasted exactly fifteen of the forty-five minutes. It did feel weird to have to leave a room full of people much older than me who were keeping up. ("If you have a hip replacement, do this one straight on.")
Although I tried to avoid the mirror, it was impossible. The room was all mirrors and I got a really good sideways view. I laughingly refer to myself as round but muscular. That isn't quite right. Barrel shaped would be more accurate. I am not one of those people with a large middle and skinny legs. Nope, big middle, big thighs, and powerfully big calves. I am mostly in proportion, except for my middle. Problem is the the proportions are too big.
As I was getting dressed, another woman stepped on the scales. There is a digital readout that I was close enough to see. In my mind, I was built much the same, but she weighed thirty pounds less. Whoa, reality check! I do not look like I think I do, much less like I want to. I am not as strong as I assumed I was. Big muscles do not mean a thing if the most important muscle is out of shape. I see that my priority has to be strengthening my heart. I will do that while strengthening and improving all the other muscles.
I used to belong to Curves and went every other day for a couple of years. The repetition of music and workouts bored me to tears. I didn't have a buddy, basically I was on my own with other people on their own. I lost twenty pounds and it took two years to put it back on and another three to add another ten. Clearly I have my work cut out to get back down to chubby.
Why will this time be different? Will I make the connection, as poor Oprah, the human yo-yo espouses? I can't look at the big picture or the time commitment needed (the rest of my life) or I get defeated before I begin. I can look at the small picture. There are so many good classes, Tai Chi for balance, Zumba for fun that I won't be bored.
I guess I should go back to bed for awhile. Water aerobics at 8:30 and a full day of work at ten. No pie in the sky (or on my plate). I have had a reality check and need to get real.
Since I didn't have to be in to work until noon, I decided to try Forever Fit Strength, "Our famous low impact exercise class designed to improve muscle tone, strengthen the heart and lungs, and burn away calories. Very popular with exercisers over 50 but is open to everyone." I'm 58, sounds perfect, no little chickies. I entered the studio to find I was in the company of old people. I had to have been the youngest one there by at least ten years. I introduced myself to the instructor and told her I have exercised induced asthma and didn't have an inhaler with me. (I'm having a physical on Saturday morning.) She told me they started out slow and to do what I could, take breaks when necessary. I took up a position a few rows back so I wouldn't be in front of the mirror and off we went. Sandy took us through quite an energetic warm up, no problem. Then we started working with hand weights and I was still OK. Then she took up the pace and I thought I would die. I lasted exactly fifteen of the forty-five minutes. It did feel weird to have to leave a room full of people much older than me who were keeping up. ("If you have a hip replacement, do this one straight on.")
Although I tried to avoid the mirror, it was impossible. The room was all mirrors and I got a really good sideways view. I laughingly refer to myself as round but muscular. That isn't quite right. Barrel shaped would be more accurate. I am not one of those people with a large middle and skinny legs. Nope, big middle, big thighs, and powerfully big calves. I am mostly in proportion, except for my middle. Problem is the the proportions are too big.
As I was getting dressed, another woman stepped on the scales. There is a digital readout that I was close enough to see. In my mind, I was built much the same, but she weighed thirty pounds less. Whoa, reality check! I do not look like I think I do, much less like I want to. I am not as strong as I assumed I was. Big muscles do not mean a thing if the most important muscle is out of shape. I see that my priority has to be strengthening my heart. I will do that while strengthening and improving all the other muscles.
I used to belong to Curves and went every other day for a couple of years. The repetition of music and workouts bored me to tears. I didn't have a buddy, basically I was on my own with other people on their own. I lost twenty pounds and it took two years to put it back on and another three to add another ten. Clearly I have my work cut out to get back down to chubby.
Why will this time be different? Will I make the connection, as poor Oprah, the human yo-yo espouses? I can't look at the big picture or the time commitment needed (the rest of my life) or I get defeated before I begin. I can look at the small picture. There are so many good classes, Tai Chi for balance, Zumba for fun that I won't be bored.
I guess I should go back to bed for awhile. Water aerobics at 8:30 and a full day of work at ten. No pie in the sky (or on my plate). I have had a reality check and need to get real.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
3:33, I kick the cat
I awoke at 3:33 on the clock. Something was biting my ankle, nip, nip. I reached down and brought Little Mister Mischief up to cuddle. He sniffed my face and put his little paw on my arm. Aw, isn't he cute? Soon he walked back down the bed and I was almost asleep again when I felt another nip on my ankle, a big one. Yow! I kicked the cat. Yes, I flung him off my leg. That really hurt!
Lately, we had cooler weather and I made up a warm bed. Pure cotton sheet on the bottom with a very light and velvety fleece blanket used as a top sheet and a brand new, light, down-alternative quilt. Lovely, lovely, lovely. Then a few warm days had me sleeping with my legs out again; not so lovely to find them being bitten by the kitten.
So I got up and followed Little Mr. He was standing in the kitchen waiting for me. When he had my attention he walked over to his bowl and stood up on his hind feet. So I put one small scoop of kitten chow in his bowl. He looked down, and I could feel him thinking, "That's it? Where is the good stuff?" He gave me the that blue eyed Siamese stare and started to walk away. Uh, uh, kitty; you woke me up, chew on this. I put him back by the bowl, he shrugged his shoulders and dug right in with gusto.
This is the time for analogy. I know what it reminds me of in my life. I wonder what it means to you. (Hungry cat, feed the damn thing, I know, I know.)
Lately, we had cooler weather and I made up a warm bed. Pure cotton sheet on the bottom with a very light and velvety fleece blanket used as a top sheet and a brand new, light, down-alternative quilt. Lovely, lovely, lovely. Then a few warm days had me sleeping with my legs out again; not so lovely to find them being bitten by the kitten.
So I got up and followed Little Mr. He was standing in the kitchen waiting for me. When he had my attention he walked over to his bowl and stood up on his hind feet. So I put one small scoop of kitten chow in his bowl. He looked down, and I could feel him thinking, "That's it? Where is the good stuff?" He gave me the that blue eyed Siamese stare and started to walk away. Uh, uh, kitty; you woke me up, chew on this. I put him back by the bowl, he shrugged his shoulders and dug right in with gusto.
This is the time for analogy. I know what it reminds me of in my life. I wonder what it means to you. (Hungry cat, feed the damn thing, I know, I know.)
Monday, November 8, 2010
The watcher within
I just wrote a blog about someone who I think is abusing the system. I was full of righteous indignation. I talked about how I try to practice compassion and try not to judge but, talking points 1, 2, and 3....
I had to deal with something and when I got back to the computer I realized I was just using excuses to be mean spirited because I was jealous. We each have our own history and karma and pointing a finger does not make me better.
Oh, I wanted to continue the rant. I really did. The watcher within showed me exactly what I was doing and I had to stop. The watcher within saw how I can deal with this situation and that is by trying to understand the unhappiness in their life and seeing the benefit of their actions in a larger world view as they become more positive.
It is hard to be as mean and petty as I want to be when the better me is always watching.
(On the other hand, the watcher within loves to laugh, dance, and have silly fun and thinks I look ten years younger when I am having a good time.)
I had to deal with something and when I got back to the computer I realized I was just using excuses to be mean spirited because I was jealous. We each have our own history and karma and pointing a finger does not make me better.
Oh, I wanted to continue the rant. I really did. The watcher within showed me exactly what I was doing and I had to stop. The watcher within saw how I can deal with this situation and that is by trying to understand the unhappiness in their life and seeing the benefit of their actions in a larger world view as they become more positive.
It is hard to be as mean and petty as I want to be when the better me is always watching.
(On the other hand, the watcher within loves to laugh, dance, and have silly fun and thinks I look ten years younger when I am having a good time.)
Saturday, November 6, 2010
False Eyelashes
OK, I can't get the damn things on, my own short lashes are gunked up with glue. I'm sweating, makeup is melting, oh I am not so good at this girlie stuff. Funny thing is that I used to be an expert. Mary Quant and Twiggie, I did the whole thing. Then I became a hippie, no makeup. Just a natural beauty.
Well, the glue is now dried and I can begin again. At my age, I need all the help I can get. But no false eyelashes. Maybe I'll wear a Wonder Bra instead. (But not on my eyes). Yep, a real natural beauty.
I couldn't find a good YouTube version but here are the lyrics to a great song.
LOU REED
LOVE IS CHEMICAL
When I see the way you paint your lips
and I smell your perfume
when I see the brand new color
that you've dyed your hair, too
I know, you know, it's more than physical
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
Well I know the saying goes
that all in love and war is fair
but I've never stood a chance
against your chemical warfare
The polish on your fingernails
mascara on your eyes
the lotion you rub on at night
to make sure your hands ain't dry
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
(My, my, my love is chemical)
(my, my, my love is chemical)
I know, I know, it's more than physical, hey baby
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
Well I hope that you won't take offense
it's not that you're not pretty
it's only that I feel like
I'm in love with test tube city
I know with you, I'm on the pinnacle
I'm on the pinnacle, babe
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
we're not just talking physical desire here
(My, my, my love is chemical)
(my, my, my love is chemical)
I know with you, it's more than physical
much more than just carnal lust
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
My, my love, oh, love is chemical
my, my, my love is chemical
It's so much more than physical, honey
it's much more than physical
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
My, my, my, my love is chemical
hey baby, my, my, my, my love is chemical
So much more than physical, honey, why don't you come here
my love is chemical
I'd like to communicate with you directly
my love is chemical
So much more than physical
Well, the glue is now dried and I can begin again. At my age, I need all the help I can get. But no false eyelashes. Maybe I'll wear a Wonder Bra instead. (But not on my eyes). Yep, a real natural beauty.
I couldn't find a good YouTube version but here are the lyrics to a great song.
LOU REED
LOVE IS CHEMICAL
When I see the way you paint your lips
and I smell your perfume
when I see the brand new color
that you've dyed your hair, too
I know, you know, it's more than physical
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
Well I know the saying goes
that all in love and war is fair
but I've never stood a chance
against your chemical warfare
The polish on your fingernails
mascara on your eyes
the lotion you rub on at night
to make sure your hands ain't dry
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
(My, my, my love is chemical)
(my, my, my love is chemical)
I know, I know, it's more than physical, hey baby
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
Well I hope that you won't take offense
it's not that you're not pretty
it's only that I feel like
I'm in love with test tube city
I know with you, I'm on the pinnacle
I'm on the pinnacle, babe
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
we're not just talking physical desire here
(My, my, my love is chemical)
(my, my, my love is chemical)
I know with you, it's more than physical
much more than just carnal lust
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
My, my love, oh, love is chemical
my, my, my love is chemical
It's so much more than physical, honey
it's much more than physical
My love, my love, my love, love is chemical
My, my, my, my love is chemical
hey baby, my, my, my, my love is chemical
So much more than physical, honey, why don't you come here
my love is chemical
I'd like to communicate with you directly
my love is chemical
So much more than physical
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Great day for change
It is not enough to whine and bitch about my life. It even bores ME. But how does one change? First thinking and then doing. Make plans and try to keep them but make plans rather than lie in bed. Today is a busy day for me and I'm home for just an hour between things.
7 AM, get up, make bed, take shower, get dressed, check email, eat apple.
9 AM, oil change.
9:45, credit union
10:00, Jimmy Johns for the best BLT with sprouts
10:15 vote!
10:30 visit JCC (Jewish Community Center) get tour and apply for scholarship.
This summer I enjoyed the outdoor pool at the condo nearly every day. I noodled around and felt better for having moved limbs about. I also met my neighbors and had fun conversations. There is a very good exercise room here with Precor equipment but gosh it is hard to go that few feet down the hall and around the corner to use it. In the course of work I talked to one man who told me that the best pool in the city was at the JCC. Then I talked to a woman who told me about the water aerobics class there and that they had a sliding scale for fees. She encouraged me to apply for a scholarship.
Exercise is hard for me, getting to it and keeping my interest. I am so very easily bored. I don't like to do it on my own. I am a social creature. I am also fat and out of shape. The condo is literally situated between Bally's and the city recreation center. Yet I do nothing. The woman at work told me about the water classes at JCC. They are from 8:30 to 9:15, on my way to work at 10. Today the membership guy told me they use a special filtration system that uses very little chlorine in the pool.
I have often said that if I make effort, Grace is there to do the rest. All I needed to do was prove my need, (check stub and bank balance) and I was accepted. It won't be free, but it won't hurt either. When we walked over to the exercise wing we looked into a Zumba class. I can't wait to get started. I am excited to take cultural classes and meet new people. Part of the marriage dissolving has been the trying to create new community and to some extent I have succeeded.
Now, the next little step is sending out lots and lots of resumes again. I know if I make the effort, there is Grace to help me.
12:30 pick up the thousand year old parents to go vote.
7 AM, get up, make bed, take shower, get dressed, check email, eat apple.
9 AM, oil change.
9:45, credit union
10:00, Jimmy Johns for the best BLT with sprouts
10:15 vote!
10:30 visit JCC (Jewish Community Center) get tour and apply for scholarship.
This summer I enjoyed the outdoor pool at the condo nearly every day. I noodled around and felt better for having moved limbs about. I also met my neighbors and had fun conversations. There is a very good exercise room here with Precor equipment but gosh it is hard to go that few feet down the hall and around the corner to use it. In the course of work I talked to one man who told me that the best pool in the city was at the JCC. Then I talked to a woman who told me about the water aerobics class there and that they had a sliding scale for fees. She encouraged me to apply for a scholarship.
Exercise is hard for me, getting to it and keeping my interest. I am so very easily bored. I don't like to do it on my own. I am a social creature. I am also fat and out of shape. The condo is literally situated between Bally's and the city recreation center. Yet I do nothing. The woman at work told me about the water classes at JCC. They are from 8:30 to 9:15, on my way to work at 10. Today the membership guy told me they use a special filtration system that uses very little chlorine in the pool.
I have often said that if I make effort, Grace is there to do the rest. All I needed to do was prove my need, (check stub and bank balance) and I was accepted. It won't be free, but it won't hurt either. When we walked over to the exercise wing we looked into a Zumba class. I can't wait to get started. I am excited to take cultural classes and meet new people. Part of the marriage dissolving has been the trying to create new community and to some extent I have succeeded.
Now, the next little step is sending out lots and lots of resumes again. I know if I make the effort, there is Grace to help me.
12:30 pick up the thousand year old parents to go vote.
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