Posts

Showing posts from January, 2015

Where Are My Socks?

I have a serious and most disturbing problem:  missing socks. I know missing sock syndrome (mss) is quite common.  You throw socks in with the rest of your wash and when you go to fold and put away the laundry you almost always end up with a lone sock missing its partner.  I've had socks go through the water discharge hose of my washer and end up in the discharge tub all wet and gross. (Inevitably this only happens to one sock so I put the other away and wash the gross sock again and hope that I remember to put it away with its partner after the next load).  I've had socks get stuck in the dryer and only find them after the next load goes through.  (And again I have to hope that I can find its mate and put it safely away.)  I've had socks that disappear, only to mysteriously reappear wrapped up in the folds of a sweater or the leg of a pair of jeans. I have tried time and again to keep my sock drawer neat and paired.  But it is of no use.  I try to keep the unpaire

One Month (almost) Down

January is almost over which to me means we're getting closer to spring. For anyone who knows me (or reads this blog on a semi-regular basis -- there must be someone out there), you know that I anxiously count down the days until the warmer weather arrives.  For me, January and February are the "worst" months of the year; cold and dark (although I can see that it is getting lighter to the west when I drive home from work in the evening).  I plod through them, ever anxious to see them go.  (Yes, these are my grumpy months).  Now that we are moving forward to February just a few random thoughts and observations from me. There are only two places I like to see ice:  in my drink and on the rink.  Right now I don't need ice in my drinks (unless I'm making a frosty adult beverage -- which I generally am not during these cold months).  I wouldn't mind being out on the rink.  For the first time in 30+ years I put on a pair of skates and made

53 Days...

 Until Spring.  Not that I'm counting...ok, I am! Here on the east coast we are facing our first big storm of the season. The snow-acane of the year.  The blizzard to end all blizzards (at least until the next storm).  I have NOT stocked up on bread and milk.  I bought what I bought on my last trip to the grocery store last week and that will have to go.  If we run out and have to go (God forbid!) two or three days without; we WILL survive.  In general, my family does one big grocery run a week.  It gets us through the week no matter what the weather.  If we run out of something, yes I will run to the store during the week, but I rarely do.  This storm may deplete the grocery shelves for several days, but if we can't get a carton of milk or loaf of bread, we'll do something else. What I did buy today (on my way to work) was yet another container of ice melt.  Now we go through that during the winter like crazy.  SHOULD have bought another big bag (25 pound, 50 poun

20 Weeks And We're at the End...

Tomorrow it will be 20 weeks since my dad first got sick.  He entered the hospital 2 days later and ended up in ICU for 10 days.  He spent approximately 7 weeks after that in a "care center" before going home only to be readmitted to the hospital the day before Thanksgiving and having part of his big toe amputated in early December.  He's been home since then, but had regular treatments (5 days a week) in the hyperbaric chamber at the hospital's wound care center as well as weekly visits to see a specialized wound care physician there for additional treatment.  Today, if all goes as expected, he will have his last hyperbaric treatment and although I am sure he will continue to visit the wound care physician, I am hoping that this will finally close the book on the infection that nearly killed my father and took a major toll on my family this autumn/winter. I wrote back in July about being part of a "sandwich" generation or of the middle age -- where I e

Pulitizer Project

I'm a reader.  Mostly of fiction, but do hit the occasional non-fiction (mostly biographies).  I read for pleasure.  There's nothing better than a good book; especially on a sunny day at the beach.  Of course my definition of "good" is certain to differ than the next persons. I love a good story and I believe the books I love and/or enjoy the most are not necessarily from great novelists, but from good storytellers.  In my opinion good storytellers include:  Harper Lee, Stephen King, Pat Conroy, Jack Finney, Maeve Binchy, Dorthea Benton Frank, J.K. Rowling, and Jody Picoult; just to name a few.  I also enjoy losing myself in "chick lit" or mindless "fluff."  And I'm always looking for suggestions from friends on books and authors that I might enjoy or might challenge me.  (Best example of that might be Room by Emma Donaghue; a powerful novel that I might not have read if it weren't for some prodding and I am so glad that I did!) To

Sometimes God Wants You To Stay Home...

This past Sunday, just like nearly every Sunday I got up and planned to go to church.  I stepped outside to get the newspaper and immediately changed my mind.  Though the steps and walkway looked damp, they were in fact, a sheet of ice.  I knew that there would be no way that I could get my car out of the garage as our driveway is a heavily sloped.  An hour or so later I received a call (as well as several emails):  due to treacherous conditions (the police had advised all residents to stay off the roads and indoors if possible), weekly church services were canceled.  Sometimes God wants you to stay home. One of the greatest God given gifts we receive is the gift of common sense.  Sadly, these days this gift is ignored as common sense has become less common!  We ignore our "gut feelings" and messages from the heart.  There is a reason for these feelings and more often than not, they are right!  And they need to be listened to! Going to church on a regular basis is im

The People In Your Neighborhood

"Who are the people in your neighborhood?  The people that you meet when you're walking down the street; they're the people that you meet each day!" As Sesame Street was a part of my childhood, so was this song.  But do we really know the people in our neighborhood?  In this age of social media, do we meet anyone walking down the street?  Do we even walk down the street anymore?  We need to.  (Ok, maybe not today when it's so cold out, but...) Living in the suburbs on a small dead end street, I am blessed enough to know everyone who lives on my street.  Maybe I don't know them well, but I know who they are.  I know that I am lucky to have them around.  And during difficult times, they have been there for me and I'd like to think that I have been there for them too. We may not be best friends. Of course some of them I am closer to than others.  In some cases perhaps we are not even friends but just neighbors, but I know them well enough and I  

YOU Matter

Over the past couple of months there's been a lot of press/publicity on "Black Lives Matter."  Black lives DO matter.   But more importantly, ALL lives matter.  It's not color or religion or sexual orientation that matters.  It's YOU that matter.  Doesn't matter who you are; young or old, rich or poor, black, white, red, yellow, purple, or green with blue polka dots:  YOU matter. Plain and simple:  every single human being matters. And that includes you. YOU matter.  Don't ever think otherwise. Every single person on this entire planet has a purpose.  It may not be a grand one, but YOU have a purpose and YOU matter.  You may not have millions of people following your twitter feed, but YOU do matter.   While the "ripple effect" theory may seem trite or silly; it is true.  No one every truly knows it, but YOU touch other people's lives in ways that you will probably never know. You may not think it's important.  It IS!  YOU matter!

I Am Entitled...

...to state my opinion.  I am entitled to speak my mind.  I should be able to do that with confidence and without fear, as should you. You may not agree with my opinions.  You may not care to hear what I say.  That's fine.  You don't have to agree with me.  And if you're not interested in what I have to say you are entitled, you have the right, not to listen.  (Or read in the case of social media. Don't like what you've read thus far; then STOP!  It's okay.  My feelings might be a little crushed, but I'll get over it; I'm pretty resilient.) I have said before I have friends on the right; I have friends of the left.  I'm somewhere in the middle.  And occasionally (sometimes more than occasionally), I get annoyed by what they have to say.  But I don't have to engage.  I don't have to read or listen.   I think we forget that we don't have to read every Facebook post or tweet.  Confession; if someone's going off on a rant very of

Resolved

We're 5 days into the New Year, but it seems to me that this is the "real" first day.  It's the first day of school for the new year and the first day of work for me in 2015.  Those previous days were wonderful, but they really didn't count.  I was still in holiday and vacation mode.  Today it is back to reality.  Today, 2015 really begins and I am resolved that this year will be a good one. I had high hopes for 2014.  (Don’t we all start a new year with hopes and positive dreams?) The year did not live up to its potential.  (Perhaps I didn't live up to my potential either.)  There were plenty of good things in 2014 as evidenced by our happy/grateful jar which we empty the first day of every new year so that we can see how many blessings we really have had over the past 365 days.  But there were too many bad things; too many illnesses and hospitalizations and too many deaths.  There was too much financial unsteadiness and employment unease.  The winter wa