When my eldest was in preschool, her class did a project for Parent Night. Each child was told to draw a picture of what they were grateful for and the teacher would write their explanation underneath. The “grateful proclamations” were posted up and down the halls. As parents entered the building, there were the sweet drawings. Most of the artwork featured Mommy, Daddy, Siblings, and Pets. Searching for what Miss Peach was grateful for, I noticed a clump of parents around one drawing. Ah, there it was. My daughter was grateful for fried chicken. Just another proud moment.
While I find fried chicken tasty, I am grateful for:
My daughters, my parents, my sister
A roof over my head and food in the pantry
Friends, especially those “heart” friends I would do anything for and I know that feeling is reciprocal
My sweet little dog who loves me and never leaves my side … or feet, which can be a problem but he means well
The good mornings that follow bad nights
The knowledge that I am not in charge of the universe. Breathe in, breathe out. On those days when I feel I can’t handle another broken something, when I doubt I can put one foot in front of the other, when the forest is so dense and scary and thick I couldn’t find a tree if I walked right into it, there is comfort in the breathe. Peace comes eventually. And I remember the world doesn’t spin on my axis. Thank God.
A job I enjoy so much it doesn’t feel like a job
The ability to make a difference, however small, for the better
Hugs. There is nothing as comforting and necessary for the soul as the human touch. Many people are “starving” for this. So simple, so easy to give. And oh so easy to receive.
If I were an angry person, I would already be in prison. As it is, I’ve already pulled out all my hair because of these STUPID questions I can’t answer.
I just moved all my insurance. I just paid for all my insurance. Now, I get a million pages of questions about said insurance which must be answered a year ago:
Number of amps in electrical system– The only amps I’ve heard of are on an electric guitar.
Fuses: Yes or No – Yes, I have a fuse and it is getting shorter by the second.
Knob & Tube or Aluminum Wiring – I am not wired to give out this information even if I knew what the hell you are talking about.
Plumbing system condition – The toilets flush.
Open or closed foundation – My home sits on something; have no idea about the emotional state of my foundation.
Copy of burglar alarm permit – This one is so easy; in my city, you have to apply, and then they DON’T send you a copy. So you go online and request a copy. Which is impossible to obtain unless you are an accomplished hacker.
Aircraft on premises? – Yes, I live in a townhouse and I have a DC-10 in my garage. Doesn’t everyone?
I immediately phoned and emailed my insurance agent for help. HELP! Was tickled pink to receive the following message:
“Hi! This is your insurance agent!
I will be out of the office until the 12th of Never.
If you need to speak to someone, call your mother. Have a great day!”
Am sure there are many women who know all these answers. I’m not in your club.
Must make choice now: move insurance AGAIN or self-immolation. Leaning toward latter.
Noise makes me nervous. Noisy nonsense makes my hair hurt. In an effort to retain a few strands … here is a list of what I don’t want to know about:
Anything that has anything to do with Snooki, The Douchebag Bachelor, and The Real BitchesHousewives of Beverly Hills, Orange County, Pinot Noir, etc.
How much political candidates spend on their campaigns. Here’s a novel idea – what if you people led by example? Announce your office intentions, take the grillions of dollars you use to attempt to get that office and spend it on all sorts of programs that will help your fellow citizens and make this country a better place? Swear you would get more “coverage” than you are paying for, more votes, and you’d sleep better. Just a thought.
“Who’s Zoomin’ Who?”- there was a time when I enjoyed hearing all the juicy details about EVERYONE. Sick, I know. Thank God, life changes can happen. If you can’t say something nice about someone, don’tsit next to me.
Another story about a woman/man overboard. Just this morning, a new report about a woman mysteriously disappearing while on a cruise. With her boyfriend. In a last-ditch (no pun intended, really) effort to patch up relationship. Note to people in relationships spiraling downward: NO VACATIONS. Tragic.
The end of the world. When it happens, it happens. Not worth a millisecond of worry. Live Big each and every day you find yourself on this side of the terra firma.
A solar flare is currently headed our way, threatening to wreak temporary havoc on all things electrical.Must shut this puppy off before it goes up in flames. And clear my head.
There’s not a bucket big enough to hold all I want to do. But here are a few things I never want to do again:
Get stuck in small space with overserved man who has just inhaled a handful of chocolates: Don’t shake your head and wonder how this happened. It did. And the space was immediately filled with overwhelmingly heinous fumage. Would have fainted dead away, but space too small and I’m too polite (ha!). Had no choice but to stop, drop, and roll into a ditch. Still gagging.
Eat green peas and/or liver: More gagging. If I am on a desert island and all there is to eat are green peas and/or liver, I take this back. Note to self: no boat rides.
Register for “Do Not Call” lists: What a total waste of time. You crafty telemarketers and your “anonymous” and “private caller” handles! And for the managers of all “Do Not Call” lists, YOU’RE FIRED!
Reply to comment, “What country are you from because you don’t look like an American.”: Final answer: “I am a conehead. From France. Merde!
Work for people who are missing several teeth in the front of their mouths: If you have a “thriving” business, you can afford to go to the dentist and get some chompers. My experience with you tells me your business is anything but thriving because my paycheck bounced AND you don’t have a mirror. Basta!
Large/Small. Fat/Thin. Ecstatic/Not so much. There are circumstances when size is mas importante, there are times when it matters not.
Size of bank account when paying bills.
Size of shoes – stuffing a size 8 into a size 7 and hobbling around = OUCH!
Size of the sky – city dwellers have a reduced view; if you look at the night sky anywhere in far West Texas, the stars begin at the ground and are so profuse, the sky part is minimal. This would be good for the soul. And beyond beautiful.
Size of airline seats – unless you are 11 years old, a long flight in steeragethe cheap seats can propel you right into a hip replacement. Practicing fetal position before boarding helps a bit. Plus, I think the airlines should put labels on the arm rests; even though they are as big as a clothes pin, which one belongs to which seat? Really! First-class and business travelers, feel our pain! Not really, you paid not to. Trade seats?
Size of parking spots – please don’t park a honking land yacht in a space marked “Compact Cars”. There is nothing compact about a Suburban or a Monster Truck. Except maybe the ashtray and I don’t think they make those anymore.
Size of heart, spiritually speaking – can it ever be big enough? Methinks not.
Size of smile – a big one goes a long way.
Size Doesn’t Matter (to me)
Size of your bank account – not my business. Keeping eyes on own paper.
Size of clothing – numbers make me crazy; if it fits, wear it; if not, give it away. Sizes seem to make a lot of people feel bad about themselves. Just stupid numbers, people!
Size of shelter – matters not a whit.Protection from the elements.What does matter is making that shelter a home. Favorite quote: “People who are homeless are not social inadequates. They are people without a home.” I think home can be wherever you are.
“If at first you don’t succeed, you’re running about average.”
(Marian Hamilton Alderson)
“Average doesn’t cut it.”
Note to self: do something, anything about the following:
Onion dip and potato chips are not a healthy dinner choice. If this is unavoidable, check out Clinton Kelly‘s recipe for homemade onion dip – it is beyond tasty.
Emotions are fickle; do not confuse with truth.
Finish one project before starting another. But there are so many, I get bored and am easily distracted …. oh, okay, take ADHD vitamin and focus.
When it becomes a choice to be kind or be right, always choose kind. Being right – and smug – ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. It is cracked. For me.
Always take bag when walking dog. Sometimes I forget and dog does his thing. This situation is sort of like stepping on a crack – no bag and business means I will step in it shortly.
Keep your friends close and your frenemies at bay. Yeah, yeah … the saying says keep enemies closer. Ridiculous. Choosing to have a bad experience over a great one? Not an option for me.
Make a comment instead of pushing “Like” button when reading blog posts.This is addressed to me – “like” is great, so no haters. I push the “like” button all the time. But am going to attempt to do otherwise; if bloggers have taken the time to write and I have taken the time to read their posts, then it makes sense for me to commiserate, congratulate, admire … whatever. But you are welcome to “like” me anytime you want.
Stop wearing clothes inside out. Happens all the time. Must slow down and look in mirror before exiting home. This sort of issue is crazy cat lady stuff. I don’t have a cat. And I’m not crazy. That’s a lie. A little bit crazy. Acknowledge contemporary insanity and slow down when dressing.
Lead with love and compassion. Yesterday, a woman came into the shop where I work. She was looking for a hat and veil for her best friend. Whose husband had passed away. Although we’d never met, we spent a good hour trying to find the perfect pillbox hat for her bereaved friend to wear to the funeral. During that time, we talked about any and everything. And when she left, tears were rolling down both our cheeks. She was an amazing example of leading with love. And a stellar reminder to me to do the same.
There must be a sign somewhere on my bod that says, “Say anything to me, especially if I don’t know you.” I am a magnet for unsolicited information. My ears are physically diminutive, but I guess they work really well. And my momma raised me to be polite, so ear plugs and/or stink eyes are not an option. The tales from this week:
The first words out of her mouth were, “I don’t like people.” The stranger was talking to me, so I just nodded my head and let her roll. An hour later – and yes, she talked to me for an hour – I just couldn’t give her a hall pass. She was happy, attractive, socially active, had a big girl job, and was married. She even showed me her serious tattoo-in-progress (not my request, but wth). Howdoes she think she got here? Via at least one person and turkey baster. And she’s married to a person. She works with and for a lot of people. And she said she was so glad to meet me. I’m a people. Sheesh!
“I called the lady a “bitch” so the church is kicking me out for not giving money.” This, from a very agitated, sweetly challenged woman pacing the grounds where I walk my dog. I tried to calm her down, telling her it wasn’t much of a church if she gets kicked out for not giving money but it might behoove her not to yell “bitch” there. Using the word “behoove” distracted her, she ran off to find a dictionary. She was calmer. And I have no idea who the church lady/bitch is.
“How was your weekend?”. Feeling snarky, I replied, “Well, got robbed, beaten, and fell in a hole.” The reply was, “That’s nice.” That happens a lot. Not the rob, beat, fall but the response. Don’t ask someone a question if you don’t want to hear the answer. Really.
“These squirrels really like the peanuts I give them”. This, from my neighbor who has dementia and leaves “styrofoam peanuts” around all the trees in the area. “Yep, they seem to love them but too many might kill them.” The landscapers are forever collecting squirrel carcasses after a styro binge. “Nope, the squirrels like to nap after eating my peanuts”. Nap my ass.