Do I or Don't I?

There are inevitably dilemmas that require a decision everyday.  Some are not really big or life-changing, but they are there.  So let me ask you what you would do.

When I drive through a Sonic (I've been known to do that quite often) and I throw away trash after getting my order, sometimes the trash (usually the paper covering the straw) doesn't make the trash can.  It falls to the ground.   So do you drive on or get out of the car, pick it up, and put it in the trash? 

On Sunday morning when it is rainy and cold, do you go ahead and go to church or do you stay in that cozy bed?

Do you give money to your church regularly?

Do you let someone go in front of you in the grocery line who has just an item or two?

When someone approaches you with a story of needing a little money for her grandbaby to have some food, do you hand over some cash or deny that you have any on you that day?

Well, those are just a few questions that may pop up during a day.  My answers are "No,"  "Yes," and for the rest of the questions, "Sometimes."

The last question faced me yesterday--maybe all of them would if it were Sunday and if I were still drinking my DDPs from Sonic (that's a whole other story!) and if I had stopped at Target for some "deals." 

I began deliberating these type of questions yesterday.  It all started when I was getting in the car to do a bunch of errands--post office, my flea market booth, Dollar Tree, Target--blah blah blah. You know the kind of day that was and you probably noticed the high end shopping that I do!

Nevertheless, when I was getting in the car, I saw a $10.00 bill stuck between the seat and the door. Whoopee!  There is nothing like found money. 

Anyway, I had just left Dollar Tree, when I was approached by a lady with very polite manners carrying a pizza box.  She apologized for perhaps startling me and assured me she would not hurt me, but would I be able to give her some money for her grandchild's pizza?  She only needed $14.52 more. 

Well, like I said, I had already been in Dollar Tree and had received change of $2.35 or so which I had stuck in my pocket.  So, I dug out the dollars and apologized, yes--apologized for not having more to give to her--and gave her all I had in my pocket--"Wait," I said.  "Here is some change."

She was seemingly grateful and I continued on my way.  Only after getting a few blocks away, I realized she already had the pizza, evidently, cause she had the box, so how did she get the pizza if she didn't have the money beforehand?

I seem to always have to pay before I leave a store with what I want.

So, I ask, do you give to people who approach you for a little help or not?  This time I did.  Sometimes I don't.  I can't tell you exactly what makes me choose to give or not because it's not always whether I have money in my pocket or not.

It made me think a bit about the general dilemmas one faces everyday.  I think my grandson has a good attitude right now.  If you ask him something, his answer is, "Sure do."  So sweet and positive. 

Maybe that should be my answer to some of these questions.

Let me try it out--"Sure do!" (sometimes!)

Juggling

I've always admired people who can juggle--balls, batons, whatever.  And I've admired even more those people that can juggle a lot of jobs or activities.  I think the word for it today is multitasking.

I've been multitasking for awhile since my "retirement," and I have come to the conclusion that I don't like it.  Maybe it is because I'm not good at it.  My idea of retirement was to play, read, do my crafts, and most importantly, keep the grandbaby--all at my leisure.

Of course, I didn't factor in doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen every day, vacuuming, (forget the dusting--it always gets pushed to the last thing to try to get done for company).  I guess I never really liked factoring those chores in.  When the girls caught me in a rush cleaning the house, they would always ask, "Who's coming over, Mom?" And sometimes I was just cleaning and no one was coming over.  Honest!

So, now I'm still supposed to do those chores although my husband pitches in some--well, a lot.  But I really would just like to keep the kiddo, do my creative stuff, manage the flea market booth, find bargains for my booth, go on trips, read, and write.  I can't quite figure out how to do all of that and the dreadful household necessities.

So, I ask you to guess which things I do first.  You are so right if you said keep the grandson and do the creative things.  So that always leaves me in a tizzy to get the dreadful chores done.

When I was growing up, my father traveled all week--leaving early Monday and sometimes not getting back until Saturday night.  When it was the day he was coming home, Mom always got us four  kids in high gear to get the house all clean.  Actually, the house was cleaner than mine on any given day.  She was an excellent manager because she didn't just keep the house clean, she cooked meals--no take-outs--she sewed for all of us, she worked at different stores, and I even caught her reading books!

Maybe it is genetic and I just didn't get that gene.  Of course, she also started her day early and didn't sit down much during the day or night.

Blast it all, I hate it when I figure out an answer to my situation and it requires something like getting up early, keeping to a plan, not putting things off, etc.  Is there a pill for all of that???

Probably not.  So I guess I'll practice my juggling.  Wish me luck or at least call me before you come over.  I can get a lot of chores done in 10 minutes if I have to!

Uh-oh, there's only 20 minutes before grandbaby gets here.  Gotta go!

Lucky Me!

"I cannot even imagine where I would be today were it not for that handful of friends who have given me a heart full of joy.  Let's face it, friends make life a lot more fun."  by Charles Swindoll


Life has been a lot of fun for me lately; and yes, it is because of some of my friends.   After a wonderful trip to Hawaii with my friend--my husband for 40 years, I got to go on another wonderful trip.  

Two of my close friends and I went to New Orleans for three nights last week. 

Here we are crossing into Louisiana.  Margaret was the driver and I am so glad that I didn't have to drive at all especially in New Orleans.  I was fine sitting in the backseat.  But she did it; we found our way; and it was fun.


We ate at some of the finest restaurants in New Orleans; we explored all sorts of places; we walked a million miles; we discovered many things we had not known before.  It was fun.

 
Becky, my other friend that went--in fact, she initiated the trip--has also been a wonderful friend for many years.  I believe our friendship started and developed through running together.  That in itself tells you how long we have been friends.  Now we do good if we walk.  (However, she looks so good that I think she must still run--maybe in the middle of the night!)


But those runs in the 80s and 90s were fantastic. They were therapeutic. We ran three miles--sometimes more. We even ran the hills. (Of course, if you run in Little Rock, you are bound to find a hill or two.) Those runs made us healthier--physically and emotionally--and closer; and they were fun. Even running is more fun with a friend.


Becky is also a phenomenal person.  (I told you I am lucky--lucky to have such good friends.)  She has a special way about her--she is funny, she remembers the details of our lives, she keeps journals about trips and turtles, she is diplomatic, she is kind, she loves to laugh, she understands, she is loyal, she is beautiful, and she is fun.


One interesting thing about Becky is her unique way of asking questions and getting answers from people--even strangers.  Because of her ability to get people to open up to her, she found out where some well-known stars live while in New Orleans; she found out many connections of people who had lived in Arkansas.


She found out for us many other things--like what makes the chandelier lights at Commanders Palace flicker as if they were lighted candles, and showed us where Paul McCartney stayed while in New Orleans years ago--details that make a trip with her particularly interesting and fun.  

Between Margaret and Becky, there is little left of New Orleans that we now don't know about.

So I am lucky; I do have a heart full of joy; and my friends do make my life a whole lot of fun.

Thank you, Becky and Margaret, for being fun friends.





   

There Are Nice Strangers

Okay, I finally made a plan to organize my time.  One part of the plan was to walk daily with Sonny.  Since I just made the plan last night, I hated to cop out on it the first day.  So Sonny and I went for a walk in the neighborhood after my storytime visit at the church's dayschool.

It's a beautiful day and it felt good to walk.  I told Sonny we would walk for twenty minutes.  He said that was fine.  In fact, everything was fine until...

We were moving along at a good clip with me pulling Sonny away from what I guess was various delicious smells to him.  One truck slowly passed.  We waved and continued the walk.  Then another truck, a red one, pulled slowly to the side to make sure we were safe and then it happened.

I hit a uneven piece of road which is quite common in our neighborhood.  But what is probably not common is to see a 60-ish (my pride is a little injured so I hesitate to say my real age) go flying through the air with the phone, sunglasses (prescription) and dog leash flying in their own directions.

I did have the recollection of what a physical therapist friend had told me long ago--when you fall, roll with it.

So that is what I did.  And I ended up on my back looking up at a fuzzy sky.  (Remember, my glasses were three feet away.)  Now, here is the best part.  The young man in the red truck hopped out and asked me if I was okay.

Silly question, I thought, and replied truthfully, "No, not really."  But really I was--no blood, no bones sticking out, no facial injuries.  My next sentence was to ask him to get my dog who was standing near by probably amazed at this spectacular walk.  I don't think the walks he has with the husband includes such excitement.

Then the very, very nice young man (and nice looking I might add--I'm not that old or that blind!) helped me up and proceeded to tell me he had been a military medic.  Since I told him I had hit my elbow and knee, he checked my wrist and had me move my hand up and down (something about pressure points) to make sure my elbow was okay which it was since it didn't hurt doing those motions.  He had me do the same with my foot to check on the knee.

So I am okay.  (Well, I could always use a little sympathy!)   But I am also very impressed with the kindness of this stranger.  He could have just driven on and I could have just laid there for awhile hoping to melt into the concrete, but he was very concerned and helpful.

Indeed there are nice people in this world--even nice strangers.  Thank you kind sir.

I just hope the rest of my organizational plan goes better or a nice (good-looking stranger) is nearby to help!

Reading vs Cleaning House

Last night we celebrated the husband's birthday with a dinner at our house which I didn't have to cook (thank goodness for take-out) and I didn't have to make the cake (thank goodness for the daughter who made a cake more superbly than I ever could or in fact, better than any bakery cake I've ever bought--which is what I usually do when I need a dessert) and a friend who brought a chocolate cream pie.

So, you say..."How easy that dinner party was!"  Yes, I agree and no, you don't know the whole story.  When I know I'm having company, I get into the "clean it up, YaYa" mode as the grandson would say.  That mode really comes from my mother who always had a tidy if not very clean house.  The grandson may have gotten that gene.  I definitely hope so.

Nevertheless, I always think the house must be spotless for company--no clutter out, no old newspapers or magazines untidily sitting around, no keys (or anything else, for that matter) left on the side table where they are not suppose to live, even rearranging furniture or pictures.  Everything needs to be as "magazine-perfect" as possible. 

The husband doesn't understand that notion because he says that we live here and, of course, things are out!  He doesn't understand that I don't think everyone lives with so much mess out and he didn't have my mother expecting one to actually put away their things, dust furniture on a weekly (at least) basis, and vacuum and mop not just weekly but more like daily if there was a spill or noticeable dust bunnies or spider webs.  (Oh my--I forgot to even check for those.  Yikes.)

So that brings me to last night.  I kept my precious grandson yesterday afternoon and I am known to leave things until the last minute, so there was plenty to do yesterday.  I did get a good amount done before he arrived, but then my time was his time.

For his time, he loves books.  "Go to my room and read book, YaYa."  So we did.  That brings me to the question or dilemma presented in the title of this post--"Reading vs Cleaning."  And I must tell you reading books to that sweet feller won out hands-down! 

So, the party went on quite well with a few spots on the kitchen floor and the furniture not dusted.  I don't even care if anyone was noticing or later criticizing the state of the house.  I did the most important job I have as YaYa--I read and loved on that grandson of mine!   I think my mama would understand and agree because he is SO cute.

"Read it again, YaYa."

Some Things Don't Change

 

I found this poem I wrote a couple of years ago.  It goes to show some things just don't change.  

Resolutions

I resolved to do better this year.

I would eat right, exercise, and think pretty thoughts.

I would get organized by February.

The house would be clean.

The fridge purged of lean cuisune.

The laundry washed, dried and put away

All in a single day.

The closets would be straight

And I wouldn’t even stay up late.

I’d read—not watch crime

And I’d do better with my time.

But April is now descending upon me.

And I wonder how this could be.

The house is topsy-turvy.

The laundry needs to be done.

The vacuum run,

And the closets are screaming for help.

Even the maid who was heaven sent

Has now given me up for Lent.

But the year isn’t over.

There is time left.

Surely I can find a solution.

So let it be said

While I’m in my right head

I will not make any more resolutions.