A Bit Worried

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my not smiling great grandparents
my not smiling great grandparents

I’ve been looking at multi-generational family photos recently and there’s something about them that has me a bit worried.  It stands out so clearly that I couldn’t help but notice – the older generation is not smiling.  I am already aware that getting older has its down side but could it be that old age is even worse than I had imagined?

There could be other explanations, and I’m considering them all.  Perhaps, even though they appear to be looking at the camera and are surrounded by family members who are posing, they don’t know their picture is being taken? No one said “Say cheese”?  Or perhaps they think they look scary when they smile, or maybe those muscles are tired and just don’t function anymore? They are all smiled out?  Could it be that just being there for the photo requires so much of them that they don’t have energy left to pretend that it’s fun?

When I go back to the very, very old pictures I can totally understand the grim expressions.  After all, they had to stand outside, in a lot of dark, heavy clothing, probably for a very long time to get that picture.  Notice that no one has thousands of those pictures in their family albums. But we are in the digital age and have thousands of pics on our phones! We can delete them with a touch of the finger.  If there’s a somber, semi-glaring face in there it must mean something.

And that is what worries me.  Someday there might be a lot of pictures of old aunt/grandma/relative/friend Shirley out there and I would like to either be smiling or making a funny face in all of them.  I want to know that it’s possible, no matter how tired I am, how much I hurt or how old I feel, to hide it from the  “youngers”.  They’ll find out soon enough how much fun it is.  I’m actually practicing my smile variations, hoping that one of them will become so habitual that it will be there on my face anytime there is a camera around.  It’s taking conscious effort but I’m just sayin’, I think it’s worth doing.

Death and Taxes

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Two things that are said to be certain, and I add, equally unwelcome.  By taxes, I mean filing a tax return and then finding out that an enormous sum of money is owed.

I don’t even do the filing for our little family of two.  The husband does it with the help of a computer program.  It asks the questions and he fills in the blanks with our information as best he can.  Once in a while it does get confusing however, and whether it was human error or a computer glitch we can’t be sure.  A mistake was made and went unnoticed for a couple years and since it was a mistake in our favor, we wanted to correct it this year before filing. Back in April when it was due, we weren’t ready so the husband filed for an extension. The deadline was last Tuesday.

We all put off things we don’t like to do, so I am totally not mad at the husband. I actually thought he had done it because he did talk about it several times.  Monday before THE Tuesday, I came home from an evening meeting, ready to get to bed and he said the words that make my blood run cold every time I hear them.  “I’m going to prepare the tax return tonight. I need you to pull some files.”

We have two filing systems between us.  He keeps everything, in it’s original envelope, no matter how stuffed the file gets.  I throw everything away that I don’t think we need based on very little actual knowledge of what is needed.  Neither one of us can find anything.  Nevertheless, I always get asked where things are.  That’s when I pretend to riffle through the file cabinet for a minute and then run away when he’s not looking.  Really, I had to get to bed so I could go to work the next day.

I thought it would be all done by the time I got home the next day, D-day, but it was still going on.  There were questions, dates to be reckoned, receipts to be found, decisions to be made and folders and piles of relevant paper everywhere.  In the midst of it all, and at the height of the dread, I came to a realization that we could do better than this.  Maybe if I started now 2013 could be a different kind of year. I could have all the records ready, in one place.  Maybe we could be done in one night. How awesome would that be? (Very awesome.)

from the BRR
from the BRR

So I did start.  I went through the box of random receipts, the BRR, where three years worth of contents of purses and pockets were stored.  Did you know that they make those things with disappearing ink?  I have promised myself that I will not save another receipt without writing the category of the purchase, the price and the date on the top. I am on the learning curve and liking it.

The husband did finish the job – at 11:58 pm, because he didn’t want to wait until the last minute.  We owed money and it’s going to be a painful month.  I’m just sayin’… death and taxes.

The Salad Is the Meal

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At least that’s what it says on the new magnet we have on the front of the fridge. 20131003_130417

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been finding jars of unidentifiable, thick brown liquid in my refrigerator.  It’s the husband’s soup that he makes in our Vita Mix (the machine that pulverizes wooden blocks for demo).  I haven’t tasted any of it because I’m pretty sure the man has no idea of complementing flavors.  I’ve heard what he puts in there. He is on a roll.

Today we jumped in the truck and went to the Red Barn Flea Market to buy vegetables for the week.  He isn’t normally motivated to shop with me but there is a new angle to it now that makes him eager to choose what he’s going to eat.  He also helps prepare it for the fridge, and fixes a lot of his own meals. We spent $37 and filled two large bags with “stuff” to eat.  Ready for this? We bought beets, radishes and cilantro, yellow summer squash, acorn squash, spaghetti squash, avocados, celery, tomatoes, cabbage, green and red peppers, broccoli, cantaloupe and grapes.  The lady threw in two pears as a bonus.

We owe this new surge of enthusiasm to a doctor who lectured on public radio and inspired him (to put it mildly) to order a whole set of DVDs and educational material.  I have not wanted to ask what it cost – after all, it’s in the name of good health and I’m sure it will be worth it, whatever the price.

My husband is of a scientific bent and is quite impressed and interested in any research done on health topics.  The doctor who talks on the DVDs gives all kinds of evidence of the miraculous things found in vegetables.  He talks about body chemistry in great detail and his findings are that we have been wreaking havoc on our bodies with food that is bad for us.   One of the DVDs was of case studies of people whom the medical community had pretty much given up on, but who were helped back to great sounding health by eating a different way. There were lots of before and after pictures.  With good nutrition their bodies were able to reverse the course of diabetes, high blood pressure, heart  damage, fibromyalgia, ovarian cancer,  multiple sclerosis, numerous allergies, and psoriasis. And of course, they all lost weight as a side effect.

Truth is, he will get no argument from me about this.  I am totally in favor of anything that means less cooking for me, and this is a very simple way to eat.  He carved up the cantaloupe, I cooked the beets for a cold salad we had tonight, and with the nutritious beet tops I made a soup for tomorrow.  With all that other stuff we are set for the week.  I made a list so we won’t forget to eat anything.

We have been moving toward this type of diet for a while now but this will be the fine tuning that keeps his interest up.  He even wants to get other people interested in a group effort so he has someone with whom to share recipes and stories.  And there is also the online community which his paid subscription includes.

As for now, I am his group.  And I’m just sayin’ I can’t wait to feel better.

Hold On, I’m Thinking…

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20131008_095842
Green to you?

I am, without a doubt, a work in progress.  You would think that after six decades of thinking on different things I would have settled, but it’s not that easy.  The challenges come on a daily basis. I can’t even think the grass is green without wondering what green is and whether it’s the same to everyone who sees it.

I read.

I listen.

I consider.

Sometimes I read to affirm what I already think. When I recognize my own thoughts in someone else’s words I feel a kinship. I am not alone.  Great comfort, that is.  And the more eloquently it is expressed the more I love it and “like” it, follow it and repost it.  It’s not aimed at anyone. It’s about me and who I am.

Other times I read what I do not think, in order to know someone else – someone to whom I attribute great value and respect, or maybe someone who has taken a curiously different path.  I am glad to be reading them.

The funny thing I find is that their path has some of the same landmarks that mine does.  The landmarks, the questions, the struggles are much alike but they are certainly viewed from a different angle.  Seeing things from a different angle is helpful and healthy for me.  The challenges I face make me who I am as I read, listen and consider.  I’m just sayin’ I think it has to be this way and I’m ok with it.

Why Does This Seem So Familiar…?

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The world is big and full of people with computers. The internet is a busy, complex place full of new concepts, new words, new ventures.  And  only by having moved my journal from pen and paper to keyboard and cyberspace, I have entered this foreign land. So why do some things seem so familiar?

Today I am going to respond to a welcome confrontation.  I was asked “what do you want?” It was an invitation to express my reasons for not joining a business of sorts that I don’t know much about.  Who jumps into something right away because it sounds too good to be true? Well, me, in the past.  I’m ex-Amway, and although I’m not ex-MaryKay yet, what it has taught me is that I’m not sales oriented.

So after innocently moving my blog to WordPress I have begun to get a few new followers.  I look at their profiles.  I watch their compelling videos.  I wonder why they are following and supposedly reading me?  Does it seem odd that young, energetic men would spend time reading about a 60-ish woman cleaning her house? My “you are being marketed” antennae are quivering…

Affiliate marketing is a new thing on my plate that I have to learn about before I chew, and swallow.  Maybe a good thing, who knows.  Some people are obviously making money through it and I do know that goods and services have to be advertised.  Maybe even I will be using affiliate marketing to earn part of my income in the near future.

But what I want, really, is

to produce content that makes people think about their every day life,

to describe those moments that are common to us all,

to suggest they have purpose and value.

And after I have done some of that and know I’m succeeding in what’s really important to me, maybe then I will also earn a following and an income. Maybe. It’s my way of putting the horse first, then the cart.  I’m just sayin’ I want to do it right.

Thoughts on a Clean House

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It’s embarrassing to be reminded.  Some people clean their houses every week, on the same day of the week.

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I’ve come so far from that, and I don’t necessarily call it progress.  My house gets… no wait, a room in my house may get cleaned when it becomes difficult to navigate through it.  My whole house gets cleaned only when I’ve lost something and need to find it. Of course, I might find it in the first room I clean, in which case only one room gets cleaned.

Spot cleaning is my specialty.  Spots on the floor, piles of mail on the table, sink full of dishes, a cat mess, a dead plant, are all within my 15 minute tolerance for housecleaning.  In fact I often turn to these obvious, flagrant crimes against clean to avoid other things I don’t want to do.  High levels of anxiety over other areas of life can be temporarily muted by these small but visible improvements.

My most effective tool against messy, dirty house is to invite company.  I like to have dinner time company and that is my most compelling reason to clean the living room, dining room and kitchen. If it’s the first time in my house for a visitor I am aware of how important that first impression can be.  I can get close to being fussy clean for those people.  If the company “knows” my kitchen from having been there many times, I skip being tidy because I’m counting on that first impression over-riding everything they’ve seen since.   It works.  Kind of…

Overnight company is more of a problem. I should really clean the whole house, except for rooms I keep locked (!!?) My solution is to only invite family, meaning people who have lived in my house before, to stay overnight.  I leave the cleaning supplies where they can find them and if they’re bothered they can do a little cleaning in their spare time. They are on vacation and have lots of that.

My bottom line is keeping relationships as the most important thing.  Remember that little poem?

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

For babies grow up, we’ve learned to our sorrow

So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep

I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.

I don’t know who wrote it but I have it memorized from those days in the rocking chair with my little daughters.  It applies to company too, of all ages.  Better to let them know I like them and want to be with them, if they don’t mind my messy house. I’m just sayin’ they might even be relieved to see that my house looks kind of like theirs…

Dave

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This morning I threw my bike in the back of my car and went back to the auto service center to check in with Dave.  He is getting to know me and my car problems better and better.  While he was writing down my mileage and VIN # I took my bike out of the Aztek and wheeled it over near his desk.  

He came over and started putting things in the computer.  He glanced at the bike and suddenly became a person instead of a dealership employee.  He said he admired me for going places on the bike.  He said the last time he rode a bike was the week before he got his driver’s license.  Before that he was always on the bike or the skateboard – went everywhere on them.  The truth was, he just didn’t have time or energy for doing things like that anymore. Most nights when work was over he went home, sat on the couch with a beer, turned on ESPN for a couple hours and then went to bed.  Not even energy to cook a meal.  He didn’t look very happy about this.  

While he continued writing up the service request another guy came in, opened a drawer on Dave’s desk and helped himself to a bottle of Aleve.  I asked Dave if he was the local dispensary – his friend laughed and said that Dave was  “my drug…, oops, no, my pharmacist”.  Dave said I wouldn’t believe all the places that he hurt from broken bones, dislocated shoulder and other injuries.  He said most mornings he takes a cup of coffee and three Aleve for breakfast and it gets him through the day pretty well.  He didn’t look happy about this either.  I was hoping that Dave took time for a good lunch, now that I knew what he had for breakfast and supper. 

Poor guy. If I had to guess I would say Dave is about 30 years old. I’m just sayin’ I kind of wanted to hug him.  

 

Thoughts on Knowing Myself

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(As I sit at the table, looking out at the green world with bright splashes of sun coming through the trees, on my day off, aware of how amazing it is that I can have thoughts at all…)

Hello self. Who exactly are you?

I believe my self-knowledge comes through my spirit.  I am not just a body having a spirit, I am a spirit having a body (from A. W. Tozer). I am different from other creatures in that I am spirit and body, made to resemble certain characteristics of the one who made me. The more I discover about myself, the more I know about my creator – and the more I know about my creator, the more I will understand about myself. It’s called “made in the image of”.

I believe in the reality of a spiritual world even though I don’t have eyes that see it. I often wonder how frightening it would be if that world were suddenly visible… That unseen world affects me day to day, moment to moment.  My moods, my physical responses, my energy, my courage or lack of it are all of extreme interest to this spiritual world.  You might even say there is a war going on and I am at the center of it and most of the time, completely unaware.

Can I prove the spiritual world? I have proved it to my own satisfaction in several ways.  Ultimately, I choose to believe it because its reasons and defense makes more sense to me than other beliefs.  The natural world is such a testament to someone greater and smarter than I am, or anyone else is.  People who believe otherwise say that we will discover natural answers to things we now consider supernatural – given time we will discover them and be master of their processes.  I also think we will discover things given time, only what we find will be increasingly complex and intricate and I believe we will discover God behind it all.

I believe that we all worship.  If I made a list of the things that concern me, that I fight to maintain, that I spend great amounts of time on, the item at the top of the list is what I worship. Do I want to worship things, or the creator of things, all things? Even the things we discover about the world – we discover, we don’t create. Science admits that the odds of evolution creating the complexity and diversity of life that we see are astronomical.  The “faith” required to accept a universe of its own creating is something I don’t have. It’s too big a leap.  I’m just sayin’ that’s one thing I know about myself.

Counting Down

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As the time for me to leave my job comes closer I have such a mixture of feelings.  Between now and October 11, my departure date, I am only scheduled for four days of work.  That’s a good thing because it means the new workers are getting a chance to get familiar with the routine.  I don’t know who the new day shift nurses are for sure.  I think we are still missing someone to work on the weekends because I’ve been scheduled to do them and have had to remind my employer that I can’t work on Saturdays and prefer not to work Sundays.  It’s been hard telling her that and she has gotten angry with me.  We’ve spent some days with bad attitude so thick in the room it’s overwhelming and spills out in sarcasm and criticism.

I was off last Thursday and she had a difficult day with a new nurse.  I don’t know if that was the reason for the peace and sense of relief that we had on Friday.  I know she was feeling a little better after a week of respiratory illness and was probably just tired from the previous day of constant talking, directing the new worker.  I felt sorry that she didn’t have a driver to help her get to church Saturday night so I volunteered.  I think that helped her feel like I still liked her and was intending to keep a good relationship if possible.  This is complicated – this leaving.

I know I’m going to miss the income, but I’m so looking forward to having time for other things that I don’t want to get seriously employed somewhere else right away.  A bit selfish perhaps.  I can live with that.  I’ve done some sewing and actually sold a baby carrier that I made.  A possible business idea?  And the new book I bought on making money with a blog is ready to read in my Kindle. Odd that when I should be eager to pursue writing I seem suddenly to have total writer’s block – no ideas – no inspirations – no desire. 

Last week I took the Aztek to the service center.  Two days I found it with a drained battery in the morning when it was time to drive to work.  One day I took the husband’s truck.  The second day he dropped me off and I rode the bike and the bus home. My ignition problems were supposed to have been fixed with the new ignition cylinder that was installed for $250.  Last night when I drove to my employer’s house I turned the key and once again, it wouldn’t turn to the off position.  I couldn’t get the key out.  My choices were accessories on or leave the engine running.  I turned the key to acc, took the fob off the key chain so I could lock the car, and left the key in it.  Coming back, I thought I had lost the fob and wasn’t going to be able to get the car unlocked.  In my church dress, in the dark I crawled under the car looking for a (non-existent) magnetic spare key holder. I  vaguely remembered having one once and wouldn’t it have been great to find it?  Is it time for me to get a new car? Of course it is because I’m quitting my job and we always quit our jobs before buying a major costly item, don’t we?  Just sayin’… 

Contact Me

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I have chosen today to be thankful for my eyesight – sight being an awesome gift on any day, but today my awareness is way up there.  Most days I stumble to the bathroom after the alarm rings and look for my contact lenses.  They’ve been soaking for at least six hours (and if it’s not that long you might go blind when you put them in) in a little container of peroxide solution.  The container has a little cage marked R for the right contact and another one for the left, unmarked.  Putting them in is always a little tricky because of the many odd things those little pieces of plastic can do – like folding themselves in half, turning themselves inside out, fastening themselves to the end of your finger instead of your eyeball, getting themselves stuck in your hair… I could go on.

Today there was no particular trouble getting them in and then began the adjustment from poor unaided vision to somewhat less poor aided vision.  I think everyone gets used to the way the world is supposed to look out of their own eyes and I have accepted the fact that contacts do not give me perfectly corrected vision.  Everything seemed pretty clear within a few feet but as I started walking into larger rooms I had the distinct sensation that I had one overly huge left eyeball.  I couldn’t think of anything that could cause this very strange feeling, one I’d never felt before.  I decided to listen to the little voice telling me that something was not right and went back before the mirror for another look.  It was scary to think it might look as weird as it felt.

I have done things like putting the left contact into the right eye, and vice versa, which is probably good exercise for my brain but is definitely not what the eyes are used to or comfortable with. Hoping it was something like that, I took the left contact out and examined it.  Nothing wrong there. And then I realized that I was actually looking closely at a small thing and was seeing it, which would not be possible without aided vision. There was still a contact in my eye.  I had been wearing two of them, in one eye, on top of each other.  How about that?

See how a little, ridiculous event can suddenly lighten up a day? I don’t have a tumor behind my eyeball! I am so grateful that I can again see at my accustomed level of blindness!  I guess what I’m saying here is that no matter what’s wrong with us there can be a beautiful moment of  awareness of something that’s still right, or nearly so, and that’s a good thing.  Have a great day!