I'm still finding out what I'm about but I think it has something to do with writing and connecting with people and serving God. I don't believe I have to understand it all in order to do it and am pretty content with what comes my way, day by day. I believe there is a God who created all of us, the world we live in, the science we think disproves Him, well, everything. I know my natural tendency is to think I don't need God and I need to be saved from that. I know I need a savior and I'm thankful I have one. The small glimpses I get from the here and now of what my real home is going to be like when God restores it all - that's what fuels me, stirs my sense of adventure, and keeps me going. Until then, I write about what is.
Yesterday I bought a used recliner. It looks like leather but I suspected it was faux leather. Sure enough, there was a label on the underside. This label left me with more questions than I had to begin with. Clearly, my knowledge base of modern materials is lacking.
How can something be 23% leather? Can you really mix leather with other materials and have it only be a percentage of the whole? I have only known “leather” or “not leather”, and I can’t stop thinking about this complex question.
How do you determine 23%? Is it by weight? How does this statistic help anyone? I wonder if there is a particular section that is real leather, and the rest is fake? Where is that 23%? It all looks the same to me. And why is there no mention of wood, or of metal, which is clearly most of the chair weight? Can I call it a leather chair if it’s only 23% leather? That’s not a lot. Is leather better when it’s mixed with polyurethane, polyester and cotton? So many questions.
I will probably think about this every time I sit in this recliner. It is comfortable. It is an upgrade from the previous recliner. And, unlike many other chairs, it is thought provoking. Definitely worth the price, just sayin’…
It has taken a while. But it is a step taken and done (I think). To those of you who responded to my requests, thank you so much! This one had the most votes. I think it does represent Dennis and I in partnership through this journey.
The cover was handed over to me last week for the purpose of asking for beta readers. I need three to five volunteers who will be given an advance copy of the manuscript to read. I hope to get feedback from beta readers about their experience with the book, feedback of all kinds. The goal is to make the book as good as possible, so help me make it better.
There are still many steps to be taken before publication. I am getting help from a developmental editor now. We are working on the manuscript, but it is not in shape to give out yet. This step may go quickly, but my experience so far is that things go slower than one would expect. But it is exciting, even at its slow pace!
So, I need readers, with opinions. If you would like to be one of my beta readers, please respond by emailing me at shirleyjdietz@gmail.com. When it is ready, the manuscript will be emailed to you to read online. I will get back to the first five. Thank you so much!
Thinking twice usually means that the second thought negates the first. But not always.
Today it was warm, for March anyway. It was fifty degrees at the height of the day. The roads are bare and dry. I got a brand new bike back in December, and it had never been out of the house. I thought to myself “you should go for a bike ride”. My second thought was “yes, do it because you’ve been a slug all winter and need to get moving.” I had a few more cautious thoughts as well, mainly because it’s an e-bike. I’ve read the instructions several times and forgotten them several times as well. The “on”, “off” and a dozen other button pushes are a little complicated and take some getting used to.
Danger, danger, slushy ice ahead. Yes, this bike has a display screen. Technology strikes again.
So, even though it’s supposed to start snowing tomorrow night, I decided to go around Hayward on the bike path. A few circles around the parking lot seemed to go well. The bike has several different modes but I decided the one closest to OFF would be sufficient. Every time I did a turn on the pedals, the motor kicked in. So easy, so quiet. I wondered how I was going to get any exercise.
One shady part of the path had some slushy ice and snow which I could not avoid going over. My “old lady” caution had not kicked in yet and I did have a moment of panic. The bike slipped and I was on my way down. Thankfully, the step through frame let me get my feet on the ground and save myself from a fall. I really don’t want to wreck this bike before I’ve gotten some miles on it. And that is part of the pressure of having a nice bike. I worry that I’ll run into something and wreck it, or it will get stolen.
The bike path is from 6 – 10 miles long, depending on whether I take the short cut through town. I had just taken the direction of the longest route, when it started to rain. I was already cold, but the thought of being cold, and wet, was worse, so I turned back.
Going through town is a little freaky for me because there are more cars. There are lots of intersections and lights, pot holes and other obstacles along the route. There is a lot to watch out for. One convenient feature of the bike is the throttle. It’s like a gas pedal and makes it easy to get going. When the green light goes on at an intersection, I can mount up and quickly get through . One inconvenient feature of the bike is also the throttle. It sometimes kicks in a little enthusiastically when I’m not expecting it. I know I will get used to that with experience. Hopefully I don’t wind up in front of a moving car first.
I made it home in good shape. But I now know that 50 degrees is still a little cold to be going 15 miles an hour. I should have worn a snowsuit. I didn’t get much exercise either. The only energy expended was the calories I burned to keep from freezing.
I know it’s going to be winter for a few more weeks yet. Today was simply a nice little window into the coming spring. Now, no matter what happens, I can say I had at least one ride on the new bike.
I need to give the bike a cool, descriptive name. It’s brand is Aventon. Suggestions welcomed…
The 2025 Birkebeiner Nordic Ski Race is over, so now the snow can melt. It was nearly 50 degrees today and water is dripping everywhere outside. Coming off the roof it sounds like an open faucet. I didn’t even bring my skis down from the attic (many reasons) this winter. That didn’t keep me from my own experience with the Birkie.
Volunteers help put up this bridge over our main highway. It’s covered with snow and skiers finish the race up Hayward’s Main Street.
The last few years I have signed up to work the food tent, serving hot soup to tired, cold skiers. I also would get very chilled after hours standing on frozen ground in a breezy tent. This year I chose a volunteer opportunity inside a heated building – the Lost and Found department.
When 11,000 skiers and all their people come into town for this weekend of skiing, lots of stuff gets lost. Zippers don’t get closed and things fall out of backpacks. People pick up something that looks just like theirs, only it isn’t. It gets hot out there skiing and off comes the jacket onto the ground. I’ve heard many variations of these stories in the last couple of days. I got a whole different view of what goes on during a major sporting event this year. It was quite interesting.
On Friday I stopped by my station to orient to my job. I met the couple in charge, my new friends Barb and Morris. Our workplace was a large room filled with banquet tables and a few folding chairs. Nothing had arrived yet. By Saturday afternoon the tables were filled with jackets, sweaters, broken ski poles, hats, and gloves. I was shocked. Didn’t people need their coats? I was told that most of the items would not be reclaimed. Other garments that did get claimed were ones that show up year after year. That was surprising, and led to my first “behind the scenes” revelation.
The Friday and Saturday races start early in the morning and it is normally cold. Everyone starts out quite bundled up. But, no one stays cold very long. Nordic skiing is not just slipping down some slopes and catching a ride up on a lift. It’s skiing up and down hilly terrain over long distances. It creates heat. So, off come the outer layers of clothing. They are usually discarded, picked up by crews of volunteers and transported to Lost and Found. Many skiers get a jacket at a thrift store and don’t care if they ever see it again. Others come looking for their “lucky” jacket and use it year after year.
Only a few of the discarded/lost jackets, shirts and sweaters
The Birkie Association keeps the lost items for one month before donating them back to a thrift store. But initially they are all laid out on the tables where people can search for them. The pockets are searched to remove food or valuables. Before all this clothing is sent to storage it is catalogued. A list is attached to each bag of clothing detailing what is in it.
Breaking a pole is a disaster. You really can’t ski the Birkie without them
Broken ski poles are another common item in Lost and Found. Volunteers at the aide stations tag the broken poles with the bib number of the skier. Believe it or not, skiers want their broken poles back for the parts that come off them. Hand straps can cost $50 to $80. The baskets on the tips can be put on new poles. Skiers usually get a loaner pole at an aide station to finish the race. They return that when they pick up their broken pole.
So, what did I actually do while there? I folded and put items on the tables in their categories. Having done that, I knew what was there and helped people find what they were looking for. I greeted people and answered questions. I called people to let them know their item had been found. I sympathized with people who had lost their car keys, their IPhone, their new prescription glasses, their expensive gloves. I talked with Barb and Morris and found out they were retiring from that job after 13 years. Lost and Found certainly isn’t the most exciting part of the Birkie, but it is a necessary part. Working there gave me a window into volunteer roles that I hadn’t even thought of before.
At the volunteer lunch after the event finished I talked with another volunteer who had an unusual opportunity. His sole job was to take care of one of the winners of the elite group. He accompanied the third place winner through the process of signing paperwork and getting his recognition recorded. That sounded more exciting. Maybe next year?
So there is a lot to learn about this event. I learn at least one new thing every February when Birkie Fever hits our small town. It takes around 4,500 volunteers from several counties around us to put on this event. I am proud to be one of them, even if it’s just in Lost and Found. This year I didn’t get cold, just sayin’…
I looked it up. “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” Add to that list cracked windshields and minus 25 degree weather.
I knew it was going to be a week of new experiences, even before my friend called. She is always apologetic when she asks for help, that’s how I know something is coming. “I know you might be really busy tomorrow, and that’s okay, could you possibly drive my mail route with me? My windshield is cracked and I’m waiting on a new one. There aren’t any mail vehicles available and I’m going to have to deliver from my SUV.”
There was a time when I thought the USPS supplied vehicles to all their carriers. You know, those white truck-like ones with the name and logo in blue. It turns out, there aren’t very many of those, not nearly enough for all the rural routes in our area. Most of our local mail carriers have bought their own vehicles, specially equipped with controls on the right. My friend has a very nice Jeep that’s not even a year old. Word has it that there is a defect in the windshields (not just hers) that causes some dangerous cracks. The warranty covers replacement, but finding a windshield is hard. She would have to wait a month or more for one on back order.
But her immediate concern was doing the route the very next day. I decided it might be fun to see what it’s like to deliver mail. I agreed to help.
It was -25 degrees F in the morning, the day after President’s Day. Mail holidays always result in more mail to deliver than usual. As I sat in my house, considering what to wear on this adventure, a thought came. We were going to be driving a 70 mile route with a window down. It would probably take six or more hours. It might be kind of chilly. Probably should put on everything I have.
I arrived at the post office around 10 am. Sharron had already been at work since 7 arranging her mail trays and loading packages in her car. It was full – the kind of full that makes you shut the door quickly so nothing falls out. She had me get in the car and start getting it warmed up. She finally got in the passenger seat, with two trays of mail on her lap and packages under her feet.
My friend Sharron
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“No.” I answered.
“I am.” I could have asked her to explain, but decided not to. Best to act confident.
Her route starts on the south edge of town so it didn’t take long for my training to begin. She kept telling me to drive slow and steady. And then I realized why she was nervous. She had put herself and all this mail in the care of a driver of unknown skill. And she was asking me to drive within inches of hundreds of mailboxes without hitting any of them. She was actually quite brave. And desperate. And nervous.
She would take a couple trays of mail in the front with her. Letter, magazines and packages were arranged in order of the route. She would pick letters from the tray and scan packages with her scanner, bare handed. It’s not something that can easily be done with gloves on. Next she would reach out the open window and stuff them in the mailbox. When a tray was empty, we pulled over and she got a full one from the back. On we went.
Tray after tray of letters and an SUV full of packages
I had heard her talking about people on her mail route. She often had to take a package to their door. Sometimes she had conversations with them, and she had come to know them. She knew the color and size of each upcoming mailbox. She knew who had a dog, and what their dog’s name was. She knew who shopped Amazon regularly and who got lots of magazines. Once in a while she would hold her hands over the heat vent to recover from the cold. We delivered mail all day. Often in the winter, she would be driving the route in the dark, but not today. We were done around 5 and the sun was still on the horizon.
There were no breaks and no lunch hour. There was an unheated bathroom stop at a park, and another at a bar where she delivered mail. They were brief. Although sheltered in the car and quite bundled up, we were somewhat cold all day. The window was open nearly all the time while we drove. It did get up to 7 degrees, which was the high temp for the day.
I have new appreciation for my friend and the way she does her work. I am thankful there are people who love that job enough to do it, day after day. I used to wonder if I would like working for the postal service. But my idea of the job was walking through residential neighborhoods, with a cool uniform, and a backpack of letters. Not this. You could not pay me to do this for a living. Nope.
But I enjoyed helping for a day. It was a very cool (literally) adventure. And I only hit one mailbox, or bumped it, maybe. It didn’t fall over, just sayin’…
Part of being human is what I call “getting carried away”, and I do it a lot. It usually results in doing things that I didn’t plan on doing, but which turn out to be satisfying. That’s what happened yesterday.
The family resource center where I volunteer has recently moved to a new facility. In one of the new rooms we plan to have a boutique for new moms. It will have everything they need for babies, and young children. It’s presently full of bags of donated clothing, blankets, diapers, furniture, clothes racks, boxes of hangers. There was a narrow path through it, but it was a little treacherous.
Next to it is another slightly smaller room full of toys and furniture donated from a daycare center. Boxes, bags, more furniture, and a lot of “stuff” are stacked in there as high as my head.
I entered these spaces with one task in mind. I wanted to finish up a display item. It’s a nice piece of furniture with a wooden, two drawer base. It has a top portion with glass on the sides and door. I was attaching a plywood back that I had covered with fabric to the top. This piece of furniture was partially buried in the middle of the room. I had to move a lot of things to access it. That’s where the whole thing started getting out of hand.
I realized that I should have a place to put the piece of furniture when I was done with it. That required moving three heavy tables, a dozen folding chairs and three large pieces of kitchen countertop. Since there really is no storage area for items like this, I decided to create one. I decided to use half the toy room for storage. That required moving half of everything out of the room. It was a game of moving piles of things from one place to another. I knew that it would all have to be moved again to a better place. I was hoping the better place would become obvious, or that the stuff would shrink during the process. Most everything I moved was large, awkward, and not on wheels. Fortunately I have been moving furniture most of my life and nothing scares me.
It was hard, but strangely, it was fun. I also like doing this kind of work alone. That way people are not trying to stop me or tell me it can’t be done. Yes it can be done. I did it.
I finally had enough space cleared to work with the display case. To nail the back in place, I really needed to put the glass top on the floor. I tried to tape the glass door shut, but that was not too successful. I actually considered leaving that project until I had another person to help. But I was on a roll and wanted to finish what I’d started. It was a miracle I got the top off the base without breaking any glass. It was a second miracle that I got it back and in its place along the wall.
Now it is full of colorful quilts for babies, and I am only slightly sore from my workout. Never mind that the hour I had intended to spend turned into five hours of “getting carried away”. It was a very satisfying afternoon.
I’m paying attention to the simple things in life to be enjoyed, and today’s bright spot is “palomitas de maiz.” It was in my Spanish lesson. It’s the word for one of my favorite foods, popcorn. It’s a word I might actually use if I can remember it.
It’s always nice when someone calls to find out how I’m feeling. A very simple gesture of caring can do a lot for my frame of mind. The call this morning was interesting because my friend wanted to know why I had looked so tired the night before. Was I okay? I didn’t know what to tell her because I couldn’t remember what I had done that day, probably nothing unusual. Even more surprising was her remark that I usually looked to her like a ball of energy. I clearly do not have a good idea of how I appear to people.
On the other hand, this week’s lesson in Stephen Ministry Training included teaching on how to assertively give and receive compliments. We all had to write affirmations or compliments that we had for each other and share them. My compliments were curiously similar to ones I’d received in college 50 years ago, so at least I’m consistent. That exercise is always fun. People are only telling you things they have noticed about you that they like. It’s all good, even if they say something you didn’t see coming. I went to bed last night feeling better than usual and I think it was the compliments that did it. We should be generous with compliments and I need to remember that.
Today is Thursday, the day book cover poll #1 is finished. I’m surprised with the results so far. What do I do when the winner isn’t one of my favorites? I pause to consider why that might be, I guess. The final poll will be between the top two contenders next week. Please come back and vote again. Please.
My mind is turning now to think about endorsements for my book. I need volunteers with credentials to read the book and make a statement about its value. This is going to be a tough one. I have a very short list, but it’s a place to start.
Supposedly, 80% of people say that they would like to write a book. Only a much smaller percentage actually do write one. I have never been sure that I would be in that small number of people called authors. But I know I’ve been in the 80% of writers who dream. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.
A few weeks ago, Mom asked me if I was writing on my blog. She hadn’t seen anything for a while. No, I told her. Journal entries have been sparse. Both of my blogs have rarely been attended to, and readership has dropped off. I’m not proud of that. My life since Dennis has been a whole new experience, and I haven’t decided how to write about it.
But I have decided what my first book will be about. It will be about our experience with Lewy Body Dementia. My husband Dennis and I walked that difficult road for five years. I want to have the historical record for family and friends. Dennis has a granddaughter who will never get to meet him, and will someday wonder who he was. For both Dennis and I, that time period was intense and rich in many ways. I want to preserve my own memories of it.
I haven’t felt much like writing anything at all since Dennis died. That’s why using my journal entries and blog posts during that time was an easy choice. Most of the writing was already done. I put money down with a publisher and have been working toward a finished book for several months now. It’s a frustrating, time consuming project in many ways but also an interesting process. It has given me new stories to tell.
One of the tasks of making a book is to choose a cover. Today, I am asking for help with that. Designers have already submitted cover designs and I have chosen a few. This week a poll is being taken to see which cover has the most appeal. You can help by following the link at the end of this post and voting. Based on the cover, which book would you be most likely to buy and read? I thank you in advance for your input.
And in case you are also part of the 80% that want to write a book someday, I will be telling some of those stories about publishing for you. And check in next week for the results of the poll. By the way, winter is a good time to stay indoors and write… just sayin’.
I have a bookmark in my Bible that has this picture and beginning sentence:
“Dennis Richard Dietz, born December 26, 1945…”
It goes on to describe some of what he meant to me and the rest of his family. I look at the bookmark almost daily, and remember more about him and our life together every time. A person’s whole life cannot fit on a bookmark.
What I sit with on this day, Dennis’s birthday, is that our paths were in God’s hands all the time. He knew our moves before we made them. He brought us together.
I don’t know why he fell prey to Lewy Body dementia, but I do know he chose to view it the way he did – sometimes fighting it, trying to understand it, living with it in a form of acceptance while observing its progress in his body. He chose the path that led to his stroke. Most of the choices after that were not his, although he assented to the ones he could understand.
But today is not about his death. It’s about his birth, what a cute little guy he was as a child, what a studious young person he became, what a meticulous professional he was. His ways, his smiles, his silliness, his sternness, his peculiarities are all still in the minds of those who knew him.
Today, I miss him a lot. I think he would like knowing that he’s missed. He was such a good man.
I am very much of the mind that my time on earth is really just a character classroom, a “dry run” for something later. I am a work in progress and am often gently reminded of that. In the area of work, how to view it, how to manage it and how not to be managed by it, I am not alone. We humans seem to fall into the lazy style on one end of the spectrum, and the workaholic style on the other end. It has taken old age, and a general lack of energy to push me more toward the middle.
Yesterday was Julia’s birthday. One of the gifts I wanted to give her was my time, toward some task that she hasn’t been able to get done. I know that jobs like that constitute a mental burden and weigh heavily over time. She thought for a moment and then explained that her garden full of weeds was exactly that sort of burden. On her days off, GwennieRu doesn’t give her the amount of time outside to do large jobs. I like working outside and was glad to adopt the project.
I have some views toward work that probably conflict with good practice. One of them is that if a job is worth doing, it is worth overdoing. The other is that I like to finish what I start. Both of these were happening yesterday as I worked in the garden.
North Carolina is full of vining plants, like wisteria and morning glory, that wind themselves around fences and other plants till there is no separating them. Tomatoes, asparagus and raspberry plants had been attacked by these vines and I started trying to free them. The piles of weeds grew and grew as I heaved them over the fence.
I also kept finding large rocks and wanting to move them. The garden is in a spot that evidently was where the original house was built on this property. The foundation was made of river rock, which gives an idea of their size. Many of these rocks are so big that I can barely move them, but that does not keep me from trying.
Back breakers
By the time I was finished weeding and hauling all that vegetation out to rot in the woods, I was exhausted, dirty, and dehydrated. It was 4:00 pm and time to go in and relieve the babysitter. The evening was a little more relaxing. However, I have successfully passed the workaholic gene to Julia who finished off her birthday by painting a room in the basement, after a full day doing veterinary work. No one stopped for dinner until 8:30 pm, but I was gone by then.
Today is marked by overall soreness and a headache. Hired help has the baby today so I was glad to tend to quiet tasks in my trailer this morning.
Moderation in All Things 101, is the class I can’t seem to pass. God worked hard for six days before he had to rest, but he is more spirit than body. I clearly am not God, and although it feels really good to finish a job, I should probably have taken at least two days to wrap this one up.
BeforeAfter. It doesn’t look that big, but it was full of plants that didn’t want to leave.
I Just Have to Say... 