This is one of the Christmas presents one of my sons got for me. They are called “complimentary pens.” I adore them. First of all, I must confess that I’m a pen hoarder/hound. I have hundreds of pens. My husband is concerned that I may be addicted to pens. And the crazy thing is, I feel sick if I lose even one of my pens. For instance, I lent one of my pens to a woman at a workshop late last year and I didn’t have the guts to ask for it back. I mean it’s only a pen after all, right? It was a nice pen, though, and it came from a neat boutique hotel that my husband and I stayed in when we went to the Florida Panhandle. But I didn’t ask for it back, because it was a complimentary pen from the hotel. And also, a pen is a nice, inexpensive thing to share with people. And compliments are also thoughtful things to share. The truth is, I wish I had given a compliment to this woman, instead of my pen. I lamented about this little saga to my daughter over the holidays, and my ever unflappable, practical daughter said, “Mom, why don’t you just carry some pens in your purse that you don’t mind giving away?”
I might buy some more sets of these complimentary pens and they can be my giveaways when someone needs a pen. Then, I will be giving away not only a nice pen, but also a lovely compliment.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
+ I’m relatively new to the iPhone and the thing that I could do without is Siri’s attitude. When I say, “Hey Siri”, she says “Um-hmm” in a tone that I read as slightly condescending, distracted, “fake” cheerful and annoyed. It’s almost as if “uh-hmm” is short for “What do you want now? I’m kinda busy out here in the ethersphere. ” I think that I would prefer something like, “Hi, beautiful! How can I help you?”, in a delighted, enthusiastic, tail-wagging, eager tone. I find Siri’s “um-hmm” almost as annoying as women who are at least 35 years younger than me, calling me “honey.”
+ In the beginning of the year, I found myself chomping at the bit to get back to “normal.” Our four adult children, overlapping their holiday visits, between them all, kind of like a Venn diagram, were here at home, for a total of about four weeks, in various counts and measures. Towards the end of the holidays, my adult children said that I started repeating the same questions which I supposedly have always asked during every school break since they were little ones, “When do you go back now? Is it almost time for you to go back?” (Our kids do an interesting mocking impression of me asking these questions. They find it quite amusing.) So yesterday, was my first full day entirely by myself. And the house was soooo quiet. And my grocery cart looked pitifully empty with just the groceries for the two of us. And I only had to do one load of laundry. And so, when I got home, I texted to the family chat, with a myriad of cry-face emojis, a question which I also often ask of my kids, “I miss you. When are you coming home again?”
+ As I write this, I am wearing a V-Line Double Chin Reducer face mask, which I saw on Amazon, as the hopeful side of me focused only in on the positive reviews. It fits over my ears and under my chin and I have hopes that my jowls will magically disappear after only a few wearings. Ha. My dogs find this unique mask quite disturbing looking. I know and I understand on a logical level, that this is yet another gimmick which I have fallen for that most likely will not work with any great noticeable measure, and all of the while, it cost me time and money, and it makes me look ridiculous, and vain, and pathetic, and also frightening to my fur babies. And you can laugh at silly old me, but I know that there are a few of you out there, just like me, who while reading this are perhaps wearing a gold flake mask, or trying out a teensy-weensy dollop of that new anti-aging cream from that teeny, tiny $453 jar of “The Emperor’s New Cream” that you insisted on getting for Christmas. The global anti-aging market is now said to be worth almost 60 billion dollars. Sigh.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I have a couple of these types of friends in my life – dangerously fun. I also learned early on to never, ever seat our eldest son and our youngest son next to one another anywhere, at any time. It’s a recipe for hilarity and disaster. I think it is a really special thing to have some people in your life whom you can anticipate the fun and mischievousness which comes with them and who brings it out in you.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
In Indonesia, the words for “thank you” are “terima kasih,” which, if you translate them literally, mean “accept love for what it is.” – Tamalia Alisjahbana
Thank you, readers, for being here to witness my writing. Accept my love for what it is. I appreciate you.
Yesterday, I did a tiny, easy thing for myself and for the people in my household which will make a major difference for all of us, for the rest of this year and beyond. I figured out how to turn off the ringers on our landline phones. For years now, we have been annoyed and pestered by the loud ringing, often at ungodly times, of the landline phones (one that sits right next to me on my desk as I write).
Now, I already know what you are thinking right at this moment. I’m kind of psychic. You won’t be the first to have this thought. My husband and my kids and my friends have pointedly asked me the same thing, many, many times. Why do we still have landline phones? The long answer is this: I have a very stubborn, obstinate, old-fashioned part of myself whom everyone I care about abhors. However, I adore her. Her reasoning for the landline is this: it’s cheap, it’s a good second option for people to be able to reach you without having to give them your cell phone number, and it’s a great second option for “911” calls. (In case Freddy Krueger shows up at my house, I want backup.) And (consider yourself warned) the more people in her life who ask her, “Why do we still have landline phones?”, the more she digs in her heels.
So, for now and for the unforeseen future, the landline stays. But since the landline’s phone number has been in circulation for a few years now, the telemarketers have it on their primetime lists, and the landline calls at our home have become more frequent, annoying and untimely as time has gone on. So yesterday, instead of yelling, rolling my eyes, picking up the phone and slamming it down on someone’s poor ears or running over to the phone, in a panic, wondering if there was some emergency/catastrophe that I needed to attend to, I actually took the time to figure out how to turn off the ringers on the phones. And it wasn’t hard. It didn’t take much time at all. And I already have been breathing easier, just a day into the peace and quiet which this action has brought to me.
I often talk about self-awareness on this blog. It occurred to me yesterday, that when I feel annoyed and irked by anything, I should use this as a signal to pause and to question whether there is any action that I can take that would change this annoyance in my life, which I have grown to just accept. It’s amazing how many little irritations we just accept in our lives, without questioning if there might be simple solutions to the problem, in order to ease the pain. Are those cute, but pinchy, painful shoes really worth achy feet? Pitch them. Is it possible to easily and inexpensively change out that sticky door handle? Do it. Are you constantly annoyed by someone’s tardiness or rudeness? Know your personnel. Take steps to avert and change any situation that you foresee will annoy you. You are worth it!
I am so happy to have my uninterrupted peace and quiet this morning. I am a little miffed at myself that I didn’t take action to figure out the phone ringers sooner. Still, the past is in the past, and I am now sitting in the peaceful, quiet present, quite pleased with myself. And it’s delicious. And I still have my back-up plan in case Freddy Krueger stops by.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
As a woman who grew up in Pittsburgh, PA (RIP – Franco Harris – a true Pittsburgh great, in every sense of the word), and then spent most of her adult life in the south, I can attest that the above meme is true and worth a smile. I spent many clueless moments on icy roads, all by myself, when we first moved to Charlotte, NC from Pittsburgh. It turns out that the south does not have salt storage domes. I hope that wherever you are, you remain safe and warm this weekend.
Happy Friday!!! Is everyone ready for the holiday weekend? Is everyone sick of patiently answering, and politely asking that question? Now, it’s finally here. (It’s funny, the Big Day isn’t really even quite here yet and my daughter just announced that her social battery is on way low. Mine is on dead and draining out orange gook.)
Back to the program: My regular readers know that I devote Fridays on the blog to the frivolous. On Fridays, I list a favorite of mine and who knows, it may end up being a favorite of yours, too?
Today’s favorite: Landies Candies stuffed chocolate pretzels. My friend gave me some of these delectable treats for Christmas and with every bite, I fell more in love. These are chocolate covered pretzels which are also filled with luscious caramel and peanut butter filling. I am not sure if I have ever had a tastier treat. This is a good one to keep in your back pocket to give out as a treat, next Christmas. Landies Candies website is here:
https://landies.com/
I am sending lots of warmth and love from my heart to yours. May the hearth of my heart help to keep you warm and comforted no matter how far apart we may be. Happy Christmas Weekend!
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
As I collie lover, I couldn’t resist this one. Collies are actually patient and trusting enough to put up with this silliness. I don’t know much about cows, but they probably are, too. Animals are wonderful.
Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish readers! May it be a wonderful, meaningful experience for you.
The other day, the six of us in our family, were sitting at a picnic table eating a picnic brunch. A little boy was at a nearby table, sitting with his own family, who were much more dignified, quiet and subdued than our family. (Our family has a tendency to lean towards loud and rambunctious.)
“You’re loud and full of nonsense!” the little boy announced to us. We all laughed heartily at the comment, and so he repeated it several times over. I wanted to adopt him. He clearly fit right in with us.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
The mind craves information, which is interesting. The soul craves inspiration, which is crucial. ~ Alan Cohen
I don’t plan on tying in the quote above to my writing today. I just happened to read the Alan Cohen quote this morning and I thought that it was so spot on, I had to share it. I look at my blog as a museum or a treasure chest of thoughts and ideas that I can come back to any time that I want to, or need to, and I hope that you see it as the same thing ~ a repository of ideas.
In other news, a few minutes ago, I got into a war of wills with our Boykin spaniel, Trip. I felt his soft fur at my feet as I was writing, and I heard the rustling in the garbage can, but by the time that I put 2+2 together (I’m slow in the morning time), Trip had disappeared with paper in his mouth. Trip and our collie, Josie are paper hounds. They love to chew paper. And then inevitably they end up throwing up said paper, somewhere around the house, hours later, usually in more than one “crime scene”. So, I frantically started yelling to Trip, “Leave it. Drop it!”
And in his mind, I think that he was saying to me, “Ha! Dream it.”
And then things got even better for Trip because I got easily baited into a game of chase, running around the couch (which by the way, they say is an excellent thing to do if you are ever being chased by an assailant. It is much harder to catch anyone when they are running around something, such as a parked car, than just running away.) And I know this tip. And I understand why it would be true. And yet, I still got baited into hopelessly chasing Trip around the couch, yelling, while our other dogs bounced and barked at all of the exciting revelry.
Now, two of our adult children are already home for the holidays, and I didn’t want to wake them, and I still didn’t want to clean up dog vomit later, so I knew that I had come up with another plan. As it is said, “What is the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing, again and again, and expecting different results.”
So, I went to the savory dog treat jar and I cleverly called to my pack, “Anyone want a treat?” Ralphie, the ever-hungry, always on a diet, labrador was already there, sitting with his mouth watering, and Josie was close behind. Trip stood in the entrance of the kitchen, paper in mouth, obviously carefully considering the situation. Reluctantly, he dropped the paper in his mouth. Treats inevitably taste better than wood pulp. (although probably not much better, although I have never tried them.)
Now, some would say that you should never reward a dog for being a d^%&**& (you fill in the blanks, there are a lot of words that start with the letter “D” that could work here, if you use your imagination). Trip did not listen to my command, why should he be rewarded? I think that the real treat was that I craftily outsmarted the little fellow. (Yes, I wrote that line with a smug, self-impressed expression on my face.)
And yet, if I am honest with myself, Trippy might be getting the last laugh here. I have written an entire blog post about him. And he upgraded from paper to dog treat, all the while misbehaving and causing a ruckus. (Yes, as I write this line, I peer down at my little brown spaniel at my feet, and he has quite the smug, self-impressed expression on his own cute, little face. D^&%$&!)
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Below is the feel good video of the season, in my mind. It’s my favorite holiday video that I’ve seen so far. You know that this little girl is deeply loved. (and she knows it, too)
I needed this video. Yesterday I was running holiday errands. We have a teeny little UPS store right around the corner and it was filled was people. I was sending numerous packages and I was being helped by a sweet, but obviously newbie employee, so the process was painful and crawling. A horrible cat fight ensued right beside me, by an enraged “Karen-like” customer (who had her dog in tow) and the equally enraged female manager. The f-bomb was poppin’ out like Rudolph’s red nose, fully aglow. They were screaming at each other and saying things like, “You should have remembered to take your meds!” and things were being thrown. It was like something out of the Real Housewives. It could have escalated to that crazy scene with Beth and Summer in the last episode of Yellowstone, but thankfully someone called the police. I was so tempted to leave, but the line behind me was out the door. Needless to say, my nerves were shot. (But my packages did get sent.) One old man behind me muttered, “I wish that these New Yorkers would stop moving here!” (which didn’t help defuse the situation and I honestly don’t think either woman was a New Yorker. In my experience, New Yorkers are usually very nice.) Anyway . . . .
Today is Friday!!! And Friday’s are devoted to favorite things, products, books, etc.! I don’t get deep, introspective or philosophical on most Fridays. Today’s favorite of mine is fascinating. This is the artwork of Alexis Berger who has a wonderful site on Etsy. She makes a lot of interesting glass jewelry, but my favorite items that she designs, makes and sells are her figas which can be viewed (and purchased) here:
What is a figa or “mano figa” (meaning fig hand)? Alexis writes her explanation here:
Did I purchase one? You bet your figa, I did! The fabulous figa does not disappoint and Alexis also sells lovely beaded, crocheted cords to hang your figa on, to wear or to display. Mano up and buy yourself a figa for Christmas.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I am an ardent fan of this new season of The White Lotus. Sunday’s finale can’t come soon enough, even with everything that I need to be getting done this week. If you are squeamish about sex and nudity, avoid the show, but otherwise, indulge! TheWhite Lotus is so intriguing and the characters are fascinatingly flawed, and thus extremely interesting to get to know. Jennifer Coolidge plays Tanya, the only main character from the first season to return. Tanya is an insecure, emotionally immature, aimless, only child who has inherited half a billion dollars. She is ridiculously needy and oblivious. In short, no one really should take any advice from Tanya, but in the scene below she doles out advice to her assistant, Portia. Her bottom line is “Get your sh*t together, Portia.” (I imagine that this line is quickly going to become one of those cultural meme taglines, if it isn’t already)
There was a time in my life, that if I were Portia, I would have thought, “You must be kidding, Tanya. Who the hell are you to ever tell anyone to get their sh*t together?” I would have scoffed and brushed it off quickly. In short, I would have “shot” the messenger.
However, I am older and wiser now. Some of the best advice I have ever gotten has come from people who have learned things the hard way, through difficult experiences. Their advice comes from an earnest hope to help others avoid the same miserable difficulties which they have gone through. Experience is always the best teacher, but if you can vicariously learn from other people’s experiences, this really helps to dodge some scary bullets. As an eldest child, I have always felt a special empathy for my own eldest child. The eldest child tends to make a lot of mistakes that the younger siblings (if they are smart) learn to avoid making themselves.
For years, trying to work through “stuff” on my own, I avoided therapy. I was told that therapists just went to school to study psychology in order to fix themselves. I wasn’t going to take any advice from any messed up person who needed fixing. But then I lived long enough to realize everyone needs some fixing. I have never met one person in my life who has all of their “sh*t together” in every facet of their lives. So then it occurred to me that perhaps it is not such a bad thing to get advice from a person who is self-aware enough to admit that they need some fixing, go to school for it, and then try to help others with their gained knowledge. So back in the 1990s, I went to therapy for the first time, and I learned all about narcissism, boundaries, gaslighting, codependency, etc. And now I look at the internet and I see that the whole world is just catching up to these terms and their meanings, which helped me immensely, decades ago.
The gist of this post is “Don’t shoot the messenger.” But don’t put the messenger on a pedestal either. The messenger, no matter who they are: a therapist, a minister, a priest, a yogi, a rabbi, a writer, a relative, a friend, a boss, a mentor etc. is just another flawed human being, just like you and me. Trust your own intuition. If the message resonates deeply, the message is meant for you to learn from it and to gain knowledge and wisdom from it. If the message seems a little “off” to you, trust your inner judgment, even if the message is coming from someone whom you deeply respect. Messages often come from the most unusual, and unlikely sources. And don’t discount good messages either, just because you later find out that the messenger was not the perfect angel of God whom you had built them up to be. (That’s on you.) The message itself was always the gold that shows you that the answers that you need, are always deep inside of you, yourself. The messengers whom we come across in life are just people, who are working on their own sh*t, who are used as the vehicles to pass on this gold of unveiled understanding and wisdom that resonates from the depths and the portals of our own souls.
So I say to you (and to me) today, “Get your sh*t together.” If you feel like this message resonates, run with it. If not, discard it. And know that I am just a writer, a scribe, a person with a passion for the written word. I have my merits and I have my warts, but my message is its own separate entity. Don’t shoot the messenger.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
In these parts where I live, our large population of part-timers have come back to town. My superpower is in its glory these days. Sigh.
At the company Christmas party over the weekend, I was speaking for a while to a young man who works for my husband. This young man is in his mid-twenties and he is a superstar. His parents are immigrants from Columbia. They have worked blue collar jobs their whole lives, and this young man worked to pay (and earned several scholarships) to put himself through college. He is one of the most reliable, smart, hardworking people who have ever worked for my husband. He is one of the most upbeat, happy people I have ever met. At the party, after him telling me that his rent had not gone up at all, and also about some winnings that he had won recently, out in Vegas, I said to him, “C, you seem like a really lucky person. Do you consider yourself to be a lucky person?”
He said, “Wow, I was just talking to a friend about this yesterday. I think that I am very lucky, because bad things don’t happen to me.”
This statement jarred my mommy heart and I started panicking thinking about the fact that unfortunately bad things eventually happen to everyone. “C, do you feel equipped to handle bad things when they will happen?” I asked him with sincere concern.
“I don’t think that I will recognize bad things, because bad things often turn out to be good things, you know,” is what C said to me. Wow. C is a naturally lucky person. He has learned to have a fabulous attitude at just the starting gate of his adult life.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.