Excess

I purchased mini blinds for all of the windows in my house. I felt that this was the easiest way to go since I needed eleven of them. They come as a standard of 64" long. I fitted each one to the window and threw the excess slats in a pile. When I was done, I looked at the pile of slats. There must have been over a hundred slats lying there. It looked like such a waste. Not many windows are 64" long, so who decided that should be the measurement? I feel like I am being wasteful throwing away brand new materials but there is no other use for them. There should be a slat buy back program.

Hand Kisser

My grandmother died when I was ten years old. Certain things I clearly remember about her. She was a small woman but she had muscles. She said they were from working hard. When I was a toddler she used to rub my back and say "rusty, rusty, rusty" or something that sounded like that. I never knew what that meant. She also used to hold my hand and kiss the back of it. I never knew why she did that until I had grandchildren of my own. I have become a hand kisser. I hold my grandson's hand and kiss the back of it. Last night he came over after dinner and I kissed his hands. They smelled like broiled steak. He had just eaten out at a local steak restaurant and had a skirt steak. His hands smelled delicious. I wanted to dip them in ketchup and kiss them some more.

Official

Last night was my husband's retirement dinner. It was at his favorite Italian restaurant. Fifteen of the most special people in his life were there. After dinner, back at my house, we Skyped with my son and granddaughter. Everyone walked by the screen and talked to her for a minute. My sister took a few screen shots so as far as we are concerned, they were virtually here. My parents were able to see her smile and talk and jump up and down. Even though she was 300 miles away, it was a quality visit. It is now official. His dinner marked the end of one era and the beginning of the next.

Man Plans

"In his heart a man plans his course but the Lord determines his step". (Proverbs 16:9) For weeks I have planned my husband's retirement dinner. I redid everyone's schedules to make sure that my both sons would be there. It was not an easy task. Last night my older son called me to say that due to work responsibilities, he would not be coming. He felt worse about it than I did and I felt as bad as I could. All of my plans were for nothing. The dinner would still be missing an important person. My parents have not seen their great granddaughter for months and in my mind seeing her was more important than the retirement. I am a spiritual person and never question fate. There is a reason for everything even if I do not understand it at the moment. Maybe I am not meant to understand. Later in the evening, my son called so I could Skype with my granddaughter. He knew that was what I needed. Hopefully this evening we can do the same with my parents. The party will go on, just not as I wished it would.

There Is No Normal

People use the expression, "Normally". Years ago, there was a normal. Not any more. The world has changed and our comfort zones have gone with that. Years ago, normally, moms stayed at home. Years ago, normally, you respected authority figures. Years ago, normally, a family unit was close. Years ago, normally, you chose your doctor by whom you liked and not by who accepted your insurance. Years ago, normally, we cared about each other. When you take away normalcy, you bring in uncertainty. You never really know where you stand, because what is good one day is unacceptable the next. Normalcy was a gift that we no longer have the pleasure of receiving.

The Mouthpiece

I grew up as a shy child. I was never the kind to raise my hand in class. I liked to blend into the background. As I grew older, I was forced into becoming more vocal. I had a job where I was a liaison for a textile company and I had to make sure things ran well. That is where I honed my communication skills. When I got married, I became the spokesperson for the family. The mouthpiece. It has lasted for thirty five years. I have heard the phrase,  "Speak to my wife" a million times. Many times being the spokesperson means being the bad guy. When situations get tough, my husband hands them over to me and I mop up the mess. Yesterday there was a misunderstanding with the painter. As soon as my husband saw that it might be a problem, he called me at work. He handed the phone to the painter and said the usual "Speak to my wife" line. I informed the painter of what I understood the situation to be. He turned very meek and agreed with me. When I came home and saw the man, he looked scared of me. Sometimes I wish I could just be a trophy wife.

A Mitzvah

Doing a mitzvah means doing a selfless act that helps another person. The only thing you get out of it is a good feeling, which is better than any other reward. Yesterday my sister did a mitzvah. She had been in a doctor's office for a few hours and when she was finally done she went to her car to go home. She noticed an elderly man at her car window. She asked him if anything was wrong. He told her that he could not find his car. He walked around the lot twice, in 90 degree heat, with a medical boot on his foot but did not see his car. He said that he just lost his wife of 40 years and his mind was not clear. He said he did not know what to do. He asked her to drive him around the lot and said he would pay her. It seems that the building had four entrances with four identical lots, so if you did not know which entrance you came in, it could be confusing. She told him to get into her car but that she would not accept money. They drove up and down the aisles of the four lots for about 20 minutes when he finally spotted his car. He was so relieved. Again, he offered her money. She said she did not want money. The only thing she wanted was for him to wish her and her family good health. He said he would wish for her, what he wishes for himself.

Dual Wishes

The other day my sister went to the store to buy a retirement card for my husband. She picked up a card and then realized that she chose the wrong one. Instead of saying "Happy Retirement", it said "With Deepest Sympathy". That got me thinking. There should be a dual greeting. It should say "With Deepest Sympathy on your Husband's Retirement". This retirement thing is for the birds. A healthy person now stays at home doing nothing productive. You are not in camp. This is not a free for all. For us working people, a spouse's retirement is hell at its lowest level. There is nothing to do but find nonsensical things to dwell on. I am two weeks and counting. Xanax, anyone?

Beans

Last Father's Day, my grandson was still in the preemie stage. He was a year old and still being bottle fed. While we were eating, he was looking at the baked beans that his mother was eating. She decided to give him a taste. He loved them. She mashed a few beans and he gobbled them down. She gave him more. We were so happy to see him eating real food. This year we sat down to eat and filled his plate with chicken and cheese. Then he saw the beans. We gave him a nice portion. He cleaned his plate and asked for more beans. He finished all of them. He asked for more. By the time he was finished he ate more than me. What a difference a year makes.

Father's Day

Happy Father's Day. As usual, I am having family over. Father's Day became "my holiday" thirty four years ago, when  my son was born on Father's Day weekend. We always had a double themed party. For about ten years, my son has lived out of state but the celebration continued. We plan an outdoor party and then go with the flow. Today it is raining out. I will set up for indoors and if the weather clears I will bring the party outside. This year there will be four generations of men. Great grandpa, poppy, daddy and son. Does life get better?

Just Toss

Since we are redoing the house, all of the junk we have collected over the years must be thrown out. There is no longer room in the basement to be a catch all for everything we want to hold on to. Most of us will just relocate our things until we are forced to get rid of them. The time for me to do that has come this week. Last night we went downstairs to begin the daunting task of weeding out the unnecessary items. I implemented a new rule. If it is in a bag or box that has been hiding for years and we have no idea what is in it, toss it out. Sight unseen. If I haven't missed it in all these years, it must not be important. My husband found it difficult to do that until he saw how much time he was wasting scrutinizing every piece of junk. Grab and toss, grab and toss. I feel cleansed.

Double Booked

I am double booked. Of all the weekends in the year, I have a conflict and have to undo it. I planned a retirement party for next weekend and my husband bought show tickets without asking me first. I then had a choice to have a party without my younger son or lose the ticket money. My husband voted for the party without his son. I voted for losing the tickets. It became a battle of the wills until my older son got involved. He is a calm person that tells it like it is. He never raises his voice. He says what he has to and walks away. He called my husband and asked him, "What is more important? Your son or your tickets"? One simple question. One simple answer. After a brief moment, my husband realized that his son being there was the most important thing. Now I need to get rid of the "Happy Together Tour" tickets. Wish me luck.

Sensible

Years ago I wrote a blog about smart vs bright. It is key worded from many countries as everyone wants to know the difference between the two. There is one last component to that pair. It is sensibility. People are smart or bright, but without being sensible does any of that matter? I do things in the correct order. I think before I do. I weigh the options and pick the best one. That is being sensible. Being sensible means we do not assume the outcome of any issue. We calculate all scenarios and choose the one that has the least chance of error. If you are sensible, no one needs to say, "I told you so". If you are sensible you will never blame yourself when something goes astray. People that live their lives sensibly are sometimes called "worriers". I would rather be called a worrier than be a person that has to mop up their mess.

American Idle

I work with a woman that I call The American Idle. Not idol. Idle. She has been an intern for the past two years. One day a week she comes in and is supposed to be working on her dissertation. She prefers to sit there idly and do nothing. She talks, texts and eats oatmeal. She complains that she has no time to do the statistics that are necessary for her thesis. She does this for three hours and then packs up and leaves. She expects our volunteers to do her work and then pouts when she sees that the have not done any of it. It has become a power play. She is 43 years old and time is ticking for her. By the time she finishes her degree, she will be ready for retirement. Maybe that is what she is training for.

Layman's Terms

We are getting estimates for painting my house. The first painter seems to be a dog whisperer who said he was here to help us through this ordeal. He spent more time telling us what each of  Shelby's barks meant than looking at the walls. The next one called to say he would be late because his truck broke down. That is a rookie excuse so I told him not to come. The next one came in like being a house painter was akin to being a rocket scientist. He was telling us that some areas needed a bit of mesh tape. He looked at us and tried to explain "in layman's terms" what mesh tape was. I told him that we rebuilt our son's house so it was okay to get technical with us and use the word compound instead of spackle. He thinks he is restoring the Sistine Chapel. All I want is a coat of paint schmered on the walls. The next guy came after work and smelled like he just cleaned out a barn. Today and tomorrow there will be two more candidates. After that, if they are not good, I will attach a brush to my husband's hand and order him to paint.

Old Fashioned Thinking

Certain concepts are hard to change. I have grown up in an era that has seen many changes, from juice packs to computers. The other day, I called patient to confirm an appointment. She answered the phone like she was in a rush. She said that she had to call me back because she was on a long distance call. I said okay. After I hung up, I laughed. Years ago, a long distance call was special. It cost more money than a local call, so you did not want anyone to hang on the line longer than necessary. Today, mostly all calling services are from cable companies and long distance calls are unlimited. Local and long distance are the same so you don't need to treat them special. Old ways are hard to break.

The Triple "R"

Yesterday I spent the day at The Triple "R". It is the endearing name I have given to my niece's house. The R**** Road Retreat. It is a place of calmness and relaxation. There are beautiful grounds to walk around. There is a pool that is heated to the perfect temperature. Hor d'oeuvres are served poolside with a choice of beverage. Pool floats are waiting to be used. After a day in the sun, dinner is cooked to order and served on the upper deck. Beautiful dinnerware and cloth napkins are standard. Of course, dessert accompanies the meal. Most nights S'mores at the fire pit are the evening's activity. The hot tub is a winter option. An overnight stay is always offered. I needed a day like yesterday. No stress, all pleasure.

Breaking Up

Yesterday I broke up with my contractor. He finished my bathroom and the workmanship was perfect. It exceeded any expectations I had. Everything I wanted and more. He showed up every day and worked a full day. He never asked for money until the job was done. The reason I broke up with him is that he lacked time management skills. If he said he would be here at 9am, he would arrive at noon. If he said he would be here at 2pm that meant 5. One night 6pm turned into 9. I would have to call him repeatedly and ask where he was. He would say that he will be there in an hour and not show up until 4 hours later. Yesterday was the last straw. Since the bathroom was done, we were moving onto painting. He said he would be here at 9am sharp. At 11am I called to see where he was. No answer. I texted and no response for an hour, then he wrote back the following message, "My phone fell into the pool so I can't call to tell you I won't be there today. Sorry". Did he text me from underwater? Anyhow, I hired a new guy that will be here 9am Tuesday. He is an older man and seems reliable. The first guy has no idea he lost the job. When he calls, I will not answer. I have nothing to say.

One Letter Off

One misspelled word can change our lives. A coworker has a daughter that just received her Master's Degree. She applied for a job at a large company and after weeks of interviews, she started work a month ago. She was happy with her job, even though she seemed to be doing odd tasks. She assumed that this was part of the training. She was contacted by another large company and asked to come for an interview. She set an appointment time. A day later, she asked herself why she was even going, because the place she was at now was nice. Yesterday she emailed the second company to say she would not be keeping the appointment. At 1pm, she was called into her supervisor's office and laid off. It seems that her job title was eliminated as the corporate office decided not to move their accounts payable department to New York. It seems that was why she was doing odd tasks. The company was negotiating the move and did not want to tell her. She was so upset and angry that she cancelled the other interview. When she got home, she opened her email and saw a Daemon Error. Her email canceling her interview never went through. One letter was missing in the email address. She went on the interview yesterday and did well. She will go for her second interview in a few days. One misspelled word made all the difference.

Entitled

I do not like people that feel they are entitled to things. No one is better than the next person. I treat everyone alike. The people that feel they are most entitled are doctor's wives. Not the doctor's. Their wives. Just yesterday, I had a patient's mother call me upset that we were charging for two missed appointments. The first one she cancelled five minutes prior to the appointment and rescheduled for the next day. The next day she never showed up and when we called her, she said she was too tired from a concert the previous evening. That is when she was charged for both days. I run a psychology practice and each appointment is one hour. If you cancel, the doctor sits for one hour doing nothing and another patient that needed the appointment time misses out. That is why I have a strict 24 hour cancellation policy. I make exceptions for sickness and emergencies. When I told the woman that the charges were still due she said, "My husband is a doctor". I ignored that statement the first time. Then she said she was never told about the policy. I informed her that she signed a paper acknowledging the rule. She said she never reads before she signs. I told her that is not a wise practice. She then threw in the "doctor's wife" card and this time I addressed it. I told her that if her husband is a doctor, she should realize the importance of patient's keeping their appointments or cancelling in advance. The charges are valid.

The Eleventh Hour

My husband was always a night worker. I am used to this schedule. The contractors I hired to renovate my bathroom are also on this schedule. Their work day starts anywhere between 4-6pm and lasts till midnight. I am used to it. The only problem is that when an issue arises, time runs out. Last night time almost ran out. The contractor was installing the vanity when he noticed that the sink was chipped. He needed to run to Home Depot and exchange it. It was 9:48pm and the store closes at 10:00pm. The vanity was packed up and thrown into the truck and they raced off to the store. They made it by 2 minutes and exchanged the chipped item for a perfect one. They were home by 10:06pm. All is well in the eleventh hour.

Lost Path

Yesterday I needed to print some paperwork. My computer had always been attached to my wireless printer but nothing would print. I realized that the printer I had been using did not recognize the new wireless network. I tried and tried and could not find the option to add the new information. I had to call Canon to walk me through it. The representative said that the Surface Pro computer that I use could not download the app. He asked if I had a Smart Phone. I said that I have an old fashioned type of phone, which I will now refer to as a Dumb Phone. Then he asked if I had a tablet. At this point I thought he meant an aspirin as my head was pounding. I have a small tablet that was purchased as a promotion and I never really use it as I thought that since it was practically free, it would not work well. I got the tablet, downloaded the app, changed the printer configuration and began to print from the little tablet. Then I could add on my Surface Pro and be back to normal. Sometimes we take the small inexpensive items for granted. I have now formed a new relationship with my little tablet and will never doubt it again.

Artisan

The advertising world likes to use phrases that steer us to purchasing their products. The latest catch phrase is "Artisan". It is mainly used to describe bread. We are supposed to think that there is an old man standing behind a butcher block table kneading dough until it is perfect. Then he will place it into a 500 year old brick oven and watch it bake. Last night I saw a commercial for artisan yogurt. Does that same old man stand there stirring milk until it sours? Maybe I could stretch my imagination for bread but I can't take it that far for yogurt.

It's All About You

I want to buy a nameplate. I do not want it say my name. I want it to say, "It's  All About You". That way, when people act selfish, I can tell them to look at the nameplate. The world has become a selfish place. Things are done for self serving reasons. I will do it for you as long as there is something in it for me. I am not wired that way. I will do it for you, just to do it for you. Lately, this attitude is short circuiting me. I think I need to be rewired.

No Words

There are millions, if not billions, of words in the human race. They range from proper to slang. If there were not enough words, the dictionary adds a few each year. Ones that were made up and became part of our vernacular. Language goes back to the beginning of time and appears in the bible with the Tower of Babel. With all of these words available to us, sometimes we cannot find the right ones to express our feelings. There are no words to tell someone how much you really love them. There are no words to express how your heart feels when someone you love is in pain. There are no words to comfort someone when they are feeling sad. There are no words to say that you wish you could do more, when there is nothing you can do. You hope that they know you are there for them and in your heart every day, even if your words cannot emphasize it the way you would like them to. With all of the words in the world, there is not one to say, "I have no words". 

Sponges

Children are like sponges. They soak up everything. Children's television shows nowadays are geared to the learning process. Years ago the cartoons were based on violence. Characters ran around hitting each other over the heads or cutting off limbs. If you are my age, you will remember scenes that had blood dripping from an arm that was sliced off with a knife. In the next scene, the arm was reattached. The Roadrunner loved to hammer people over their heads. The Three Stooges poked out people's eyes. No wonder my generation has issues. Children now watch educational shows. They learn about animals, nature, numbers and colors. At two years old, they know more than I did when I was in kindergarten. I watch television with my grandson and love the interactive experience. Last night we learned about rainclouds.

Not Your Business

The other evening, one of my receptionists called me and was a bit upset. She thought she had done something wrong. A patient's mother was checking out at the front window and started to question her about our fees. The mother saw the schedule and noticed that there were different prices for different people. She wanted to know why. The receptionist said that there were different levels of doctors and their prices vary. I told her that she answered correctly. When I got to work the next day, I went to the front window and looked through the window to see if I could see the schedule. I could not. I had to stand on my toes and lean over to see. The mother had to have done that also. There was no reason for her to have been so nosy. If she questions me about the fees, she will be sorry.

Work Ethic

Work ethic is not learned. It is inbred into your value system. When we chose a contractor to redo our bathrooms, we did not look only at price. We looked at character. Did we get a timely call back? Did the person seem trustworthy at the estimate? Were there any complaints on the internet? We got lucky and found a man that fit the bill. He is on time and has done what he promised. He never asked for a penny until he did a fair days work and then asked for less than originally agreed to because he felt that he did not accomplish as much as he should have the first day. I felt that he had done more that expected. Upon sitting down and talking to him, I found out that he is only 23 years old. He is running the family business while completing his last year in school for architecture. This young man will have a bright future because he has a wonderful foundation.

Packing Away

Since I am re doing most of my house, things need to be packed away or thrown out. Most of us place things in boxes or hide them in closets and never really know what those things are. I wish I could just pick up each box and play the guessing game. If I do not know what is in the box, just toss it in the garbage. Sight unseen. I would never miss it. Instead I will open each box and go through the reasons why I should either keep or toss. Yesterday I did this with my older son's room. He is almost 34 years old but I had items there from elementary school. I sat and reminisced and then put them into the garbage bag. I can still hold onto the memories without holding onto the actual items.

The We of Me

Years ago I heard an expression, "The we of me". To put it simply, it means that when more than one person is supposed to be involved in something the word "we" is intended to mean both of them, but in reality the "we" turns onto only one of the people. It can be used as a selfless act or a selfish one. Here are two examples. If an insurance company pays the wrong amount on a claim "we" need to call them. How come only one us is on the phone for an hour while the other one is scrolling on eBay? If we are remodeling a bathroom and "we" need to stay within a budget, how come one of us is running the numbers while the other one is scrolling on eBay? I used to know someone who called her husband Mr. Will. His real name was Charlie. Every time something needed to be done he said, "We'll do it". Hence, the name Mr. Will.