Last week while checking one of my daily 'bookmarked' web sites I noticed a new word in the body of the copy. It's a NASA website that everyday shows wonderful pictures of the planet we live on. Some days the pictures blow my mind.
Anyway, last week one of the pictures used the word 'vog', describing what looked like fog in the picture. I figured it was probably a typo which is something I'm very familiar and let it go at that.
Then this morning the picture was of the Hawaiian Islands from space and superimposed on it was the word 'vog'. Now I'm very curious what the heck is 'vog'? I scroll down to the article hoping I might discover what 'vog' is. This time I got lucky. First, it's not a typo. It is an actual something.
According to the article, 'vog' is a haze that is a combination of fog, smog and volcanic gas...in other words pollution. According to the (Hawaiian Volcano Observatory) "Vog is scientifically defined as “a visible haze comprised of gas and an aerosol of tiny particles and acidic droplets, created when sulfur dioxide and other gases chemically interact with sunlight and atmospheric oxygen, moisture, and dust.”" Wow, that sounds awful.
I decided to check my dictionary, which was published in 1999 to see if the word was listed there, it wasn't. I'm not sure why, but that surprised me. So I decided to delve into this vexing word 'vog'.
It is mentioned in Wikipedia, but strictly from a scientific observation. I wanted to know its origin. Of course this can't be 100% substantiated, but I learned there are at least two possibilities. One is that a Hawaiian Teruo 'Buddy' Watanabe coined the word as far back as 1965, while the other states Reginald "Reggie" Okamura used the word sometime during the mid 1980's. I guess it doesn't matter who coined the word or when, apparently 'vog' has become a serious problem in Hawaii not only causing polluted skies but health issues as well. So much for paradise.
I'm beginning to think there is no such place as paradise, some places have smog, some places have fog and now Hawaii has 'vog'. I guess no matter where we live on this gigantic blue marble problems arise everywhere and maybe we need to work on the ones in our own little corner of it. It's time we had better do something...it's almost too late.
Monday, March 9, 2015
Saturday, March 7, 2015
TP
Yesterday morning I had the opportunity to change out a toilet paper roll. Okay, there's nothing unusual about that, I've been doing that my entire adult life. In every family (generally speaking) there is one person to whom falls the responsibility of keeping each toilet paper dispenser operational. We wish others would share...but, we know they won't.
Since I know this is something Frankie will never, never, ever do, and CC and Zorro can't I continue to do this tiresome job. I can do it blindfolded. However, yesterday I had nothing in particular on my mind as I did this chore and I actually examined the roll of paper. As usual it was two ply, but upon close inspection I discovered it was as thin as one ply used to be. I took a good look at the individual squares, dang they were tiny.
I removed the metal roller from the dispenser and shoved the new roll of paper on it and returned the whole shebang to its proper place. WAIT A MINUTE! There was almost an inch of metal extending beyond the toilet paper roll. How come I never noticed this before? Those dispensers were made to hold a much wider roll of paper...and I remember when it did.
Well, that's just wrong. Once more I'm getting gypped. It's like when I noticed I was getting a mere 15 ounces of margarine instead of 16, or being able to buy only four pounds of sugar for the same price I used to get five. Thing is, manufactures and suppliers have been sneaky about the changes and we don't notice until after the damage has been done. I confess I have no idea how long I'd been buying 15 ounce margarine containers, and four pound bags of sugar until I went back to reading labels. I was shocked.
But, toilet paper! Oh I was aware even the most expensive kinds aren't nearly as soft as they used to be, but how sneaky they were to gradually, ever so gradually decrease not only the length of each square but the width as well. Are we paying any less for this product? No. Are we paying more? You bet your lifesavors. I normally buy the house brands of this product because they are cheaper than name brands, unless one of the name brands happens to be on 'special' making me feel giddy that I'm getting away with something illegal. They can afford to put it on 'special' it's smaller, as cheaply made as the house brand and certainly does not last any longer. I'm simply getting gypped...again.
I wish now I had not paid so much attention to replacing my roll of toilet paper. I spent the morning stewing and fretting. I even began to wonder if Sears still puts out a catalog, in olden day it supposedly made excellent TP for the outhouse. Better yet maybe I'll stop recycling my catalogs and simply stack them up next to the toilet in my bath room. Hmmm, I wonder how Frankie will take to that?
Anyway, who knows what will gyp me (and you) next. I'm already noticing bleach does not remove stains the way it used to. Cookies are smaller, while packaging remains the same size so I'm discovering broken ones when I open it. Darn cookies have room to roam around. Potato chip and snack packages are loaded with air, so when you peek inside the first chip is halfway down into the bag. It's like looking into a cave or a well. I think the air is supposed to protect the snack from 'breakage'... yeah, right...take a good look at your chips, people. Sigh, I could go on and on but I suspect I've already spoiled your day, I know I've spoiled mine.
Dang you toilet paper manufacturers! If I didn't need you so badly I'd, I'd, I'd....
Since I know this is something Frankie will never, never, ever do, and CC and Zorro can't I continue to do this tiresome job. I can do it blindfolded. However, yesterday I had nothing in particular on my mind as I did this chore and I actually examined the roll of paper. As usual it was two ply, but upon close inspection I discovered it was as thin as one ply used to be. I took a good look at the individual squares, dang they were tiny.
I removed the metal roller from the dispenser and shoved the new roll of paper on it and returned the whole shebang to its proper place. WAIT A MINUTE! There was almost an inch of metal extending beyond the toilet paper roll. How come I never noticed this before? Those dispensers were made to hold a much wider roll of paper...and I remember when it did.
Well, that's just wrong. Once more I'm getting gypped. It's like when I noticed I was getting a mere 15 ounces of margarine instead of 16, or being able to buy only four pounds of sugar for the same price I used to get five. Thing is, manufactures and suppliers have been sneaky about the changes and we don't notice until after the damage has been done. I confess I have no idea how long I'd been buying 15 ounce margarine containers, and four pound bags of sugar until I went back to reading labels. I was shocked.
But, toilet paper! Oh I was aware even the most expensive kinds aren't nearly as soft as they used to be, but how sneaky they were to gradually, ever so gradually decrease not only the length of each square but the width as well. Are we paying any less for this product? No. Are we paying more? You bet your lifesavors. I normally buy the house brands of this product because they are cheaper than name brands, unless one of the name brands happens to be on 'special' making me feel giddy that I'm getting away with something illegal. They can afford to put it on 'special' it's smaller, as cheaply made as the house brand and certainly does not last any longer. I'm simply getting gypped...again.
I wish now I had not paid so much attention to replacing my roll of toilet paper. I spent the morning stewing and fretting. I even began to wonder if Sears still puts out a catalog, in olden day it supposedly made excellent TP for the outhouse. Better yet maybe I'll stop recycling my catalogs and simply stack them up next to the toilet in my bath room. Hmmm, I wonder how Frankie will take to that?
Anyway, who knows what will gyp me (and you) next. I'm already noticing bleach does not remove stains the way it used to. Cookies are smaller, while packaging remains the same size so I'm discovering broken ones when I open it. Darn cookies have room to roam around. Potato chip and snack packages are loaded with air, so when you peek inside the first chip is halfway down into the bag. It's like looking into a cave or a well. I think the air is supposed to protect the snack from 'breakage'... yeah, right...take a good look at your chips, people. Sigh, I could go on and on but I suspect I've already spoiled your day, I know I've spoiled mine.
Dang you toilet paper manufacturers! If I didn't need you so badly I'd, I'd, I'd....
Friday, March 6, 2015
Remember, do you remember?
Last night as I was dozing off an old time song popped into my head. I've no idea why that happens with such frequency. Sometimes it prevents sleep, but last night I thought if I remember the song in the morning I would write about it. Even going so far as to break the rule and use the computer before exercising. (Don't tell on me, please.)
Anyway, although I do remember the song, I also got to remembering the wonderful movies that had these kinds of songs in them. Oh, do you remember those wonderful films. They had Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ann Miller and Esther Williams in them. While Gene, Fred and Ann danced and swirled around gigantic sets, Esther Williams swirled around a gigantic swimming pool. Music filled the theater as we were swept away with the magic. Gene and Fred could tap dance half the way up a wall, then flip over and land on their feet without skipping a beat. And, I heard when Gene Kelly did that famous "Dancing in the Rain" scene he was in reality a very ill man, such was the caliber of men in those good old days. Sigh, too bad they don't make movies like those any more.
But, getting back to the song I remembered last night. It's called "Put on a Happy Face". That in itself is charming enough don't you think?
The story behind the song is quite lengthy and can be found on Wikipedia so I won't repeat all of it here but can I tell you it appeared in the Broadway play Bye-Bye Birdie, and a few years later in a Hollywood musical with the same name. The lyrics were written by Lee Adams, the music by Charles Strouse and sung by...go ahead...guess?????
None other than a very young new-comer Dick Van Dyke. No kidding, Dick Van Dyke.
Who'd a thunk?
Anyway, this song is so up lifting it made me put on my happy face and I hope my posting it here will put a happy face on you, too.
Anyway, although I do remember the song, I also got to remembering the wonderful movies that had these kinds of songs in them. Oh, do you remember those wonderful films. They had Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ann Miller and Esther Williams in them. While Gene, Fred and Ann danced and swirled around gigantic sets, Esther Williams swirled around a gigantic swimming pool. Music filled the theater as we were swept away with the magic. Gene and Fred could tap dance half the way up a wall, then flip over and land on their feet without skipping a beat. And, I heard when Gene Kelly did that famous "Dancing in the Rain" scene he was in reality a very ill man, such was the caliber of men in those good old days. Sigh, too bad they don't make movies like those any more.
But, getting back to the song I remembered last night. It's called "Put on a Happy Face". That in itself is charming enough don't you think?
The story behind the song is quite lengthy and can be found on Wikipedia so I won't repeat all of it here but can I tell you it appeared in the Broadway play Bye-Bye Birdie, and a few years later in a Hollywood musical with the same name. The lyrics were written by Lee Adams, the music by Charles Strouse and sung by...go ahead...guess?????
None other than a very young new-comer Dick Van Dyke. No kidding, Dick Van Dyke.
Who'd a thunk?
Anyway, this song is so up lifting it made me put on my happy face and I hope my posting it here will put a happy face on you, too.
Bye Bye Birdie - Put On a Happy Face
Gray skies are gonna clear up
Put on a happy face
Brush off the clouds and cheer up
Put on a happy face
Take off that gloomy mask of tragedy
It's not your style
You'll look so good that you'll be glad
You decided to smile
Pick out a pleasant outlook
Stick out that noble chin
Wipe off that full of doubt look
Slap on a happy grin
And spread sunshine all over the place
Just put on a happy face
Put on a happy face
Put on a happy face
And if you're feeling cross and bickerish
Don't sit and whine
Think of banana splits and licorice
And you'll feel fine
I knew a girl so gloomy
She'd never laugh or sing
She wouldn't listen to me
Now she's a mean old thing
So spread sunshine all over the place
And put on a happy face
I don't particularly like licorice, but do love banana splits, so how can I not have on a happy face? Plus, I don't particularly want to be known as a gloomy girl and turn out to be a mean old thing........
..........so, (I'm gonna') spread sunshine all over the place
and put on a happy face.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Here's the thing.
Yesterday my blog was about inserting new things into my exercise program. I did that, as a result I realized this morning I have not been working all my muscles in the way they could be used. Ow! On the up side I've discovered I'm able to do things I thought I would never (again) be able to do in my lifetime.
Remember when I said my friend stood in a ballet position, heels together, toes pointed outward then lifting her heels off the floor. Well, guess what? This morning I was using the arm of my sofa for support while doing this and it struck me that I could do this without the sofa support and let go. To my amazement, I was able to do this exercise standing alone, arms extended outward and lift myself...my whole body up onto my toes. Then held this position without losing my balance.
Wow!
I'm starting to think the aging of my body is not just physical, but mental. I'd come to believe all the things people do tell you about getting old and that is exactly what makes a person old. If you think you can't do something, you won't. We become content with being sedentary. At least I know I did. Now that makes me so angry at myself I could spit tacks. What the heck was wrong with me, if everybody jumped of a cliff would I jump, too? I don't think so. As a result I'm taking the opportunity to change my mental attitude about getting old by being physical.
Don't get me wrong. I'm addicted to being sedentary, and just like being addicted to anything, it's a day to day process controlling it. I could backslide at any moment. I remember those afternoons, watching TV, taking a 40 winks nap, those were the good old days. Some days I miss them. What keeps me going is trying new, more difficult physical endeavors. For instance, I'm sure you remember my trying to hoist myself up and off my sofa day before yesterday afternoon and that it didn't go well. I thought for sure it would take at the very least weeks, at the most months to accomplish this feat. But, not to be dissuaded I attempted the same thing yesterday afternoon. At first I couldn't get my leg muscles to do what they were supposed to. I pictured in my mind what I wanted them to do and I thought very, very hard.
Concentrate.
Concentrate.
Concentrate.
I willed my body to stand...on it's own...without my hands having any part in lifting my body off the sofa.
And, I did. Oh, it wasn't pretty by any means, and Emily Post would shuddered at how unlady like it was. But, I was so proud of myself I could have cried. For the rest of the afternoon each time I stood I made my legs, and legs alone to get me to a standing position. Color me amazed!!!
I guess what I'm trying to write is we encumber ourselves by thinking we can't accomplish things; by the same token can't we become unencumbered by thinking that we can. Last September I never would have thought I'd be where I am today getting myself up off my sofa unencumbered. I've no idea what's coming next but I'm sure it will surprise me.
Disclaimer: Please remember I started my program with the encouragement and support of my physician, check with yours I'm sure he/she can provide a program suited to your current physical condition. If he/she already has provided one for you but you prefer being sedentary, remember I used to be like that, too. But also remember, I'm starting to think the aging of my body is not just physical, but mental.
Then I got up off my sofa and that changed everything.
Remember when I said my friend stood in a ballet position, heels together, toes pointed outward then lifting her heels off the floor. Well, guess what? This morning I was using the arm of my sofa for support while doing this and it struck me that I could do this without the sofa support and let go. To my amazement, I was able to do this exercise standing alone, arms extended outward and lift myself...my whole body up onto my toes. Then held this position without losing my balance.
Wow!
I'm starting to think the aging of my body is not just physical, but mental. I'd come to believe all the things people do tell you about getting old and that is exactly what makes a person old. If you think you can't do something, you won't. We become content with being sedentary. At least I know I did. Now that makes me so angry at myself I could spit tacks. What the heck was wrong with me, if everybody jumped of a cliff would I jump, too? I don't think so. As a result I'm taking the opportunity to change my mental attitude about getting old by being physical.
Don't get me wrong. I'm addicted to being sedentary, and just like being addicted to anything, it's a day to day process controlling it. I could backslide at any moment. I remember those afternoons, watching TV, taking a 40 winks nap, those were the good old days. Some days I miss them. What keeps me going is trying new, more difficult physical endeavors. For instance, I'm sure you remember my trying to hoist myself up and off my sofa day before yesterday afternoon and that it didn't go well. I thought for sure it would take at the very least weeks, at the most months to accomplish this feat. But, not to be dissuaded I attempted the same thing yesterday afternoon. At first I couldn't get my leg muscles to do what they were supposed to. I pictured in my mind what I wanted them to do and I thought very, very hard.
Concentrate.
Concentrate.
Concentrate.
I willed my body to stand...on it's own...without my hands having any part in lifting my body off the sofa.
And, I did. Oh, it wasn't pretty by any means, and Emily Post would shuddered at how unlady like it was. But, I was so proud of myself I could have cried. For the rest of the afternoon each time I stood I made my legs, and legs alone to get me to a standing position. Color me amazed!!!
I guess what I'm trying to write is we encumber ourselves by thinking we can't accomplish things; by the same token can't we become unencumbered by thinking that we can. Last September I never would have thought I'd be where I am today getting myself up off my sofa unencumbered. I've no idea what's coming next but I'm sure it will surprise me.
Disclaimer: Please remember I started my program with the encouragement and support of my physician, check with yours I'm sure he/she can provide a program suited to your current physical condition. If he/she already has provided one for you but you prefer being sedentary, remember I used to be like that, too. But also remember, I'm starting to think the aging of my body is not just physical, but mental.
Then I got up off my sofa and that changed everything.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Up-down, one-two
A friend and I were discussing our exercise programs, and kind of comparing notes. She goes to an actual gym and participates in several different programs. I like talking about exercise, it keeps my incentive up. She told me one of her programs had some exercises from ballet and I was quite intrigued.
We used the side of a car as a ballet 'bar' as she showed me some of the moves. I notice one was similar to what I do, except, where I stand flat footed, feet together, her program has her heels together, toes pointed outward, and she has to lift her heels off the floor. Wow...I tried that then and there, I could feel myself using different leg muscles in order to do this. Holy mackerel.
I told her I'm still having trouble with balance, and showed her the exercises I do to improve mine. She said she did one similar, but instead of putting her arms down to her sides, she was instructed to place her hands together in front of her chest. I think she called it something like 'heart position'. I've decided I'm going to do that.
Then, still talking about balance she mentioned her instructor said one of the most important things we should do is never give up on being able to stand up with out the aid of clinging to something for support. I get that! I always prided myself I was able to get up, even off the floor, without having to push or pull myself up. However, over the years I've discovered I can no longer do that. I've been very embarrassed about having to crawl across the floor on hand and knees to a sofa or chair. It's even more embarrassing when I'm working outside on my hands and knees and have to scour the neighborhood making sure no one is watching as I get myself upright once more. As a result I decided come heck or high water I am going to get myself back into shape to be able to do stand up again...by myself...on my own.
I started yesterday.
Baaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaaaa, Whew, that felt good.
Wish you could have been here, I had myself in such a fit of giggles.
I started by skooching myself to the edge of the sofa, feet firmly planted on the floor. I attempted to stand. I could not get my flabby butt off the cushion. (Snicker.) I tried again, this time I managed to get my butt off the sofa, but my arms flailed about like a fish freshly landing on a beach for the very first and probably last time. (Snicker, snicker.) Plop, down I went onto the sofa.
I think maybe if I grunt while trying to pull myself into a standing position it might help. I do so, as quietly as possible. Did you know you can't grunt in silence 'cause it makes you...well, you know...fart. (Now I'm far beyond snickering.)
I try one more time, by now my legs feel like rubber. I've awakened Zorro...CC has fled in fright, I think because of my flailing arms and Frankie is doubled over in a fit of laughter. It's hard to try to better yourself when those you love get such a kick out of it.
I finally give up, for the moment.
However, now I'm bound and determined I'm going to conquer being able to get myself into a standing position...on my own...without the aid of anything but my own muscle power. I don't care how long it takes! I am going to become the little train that could!
At least I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.
We used the side of a car as a ballet 'bar' as she showed me some of the moves. I notice one was similar to what I do, except, where I stand flat footed, feet together, her program has her heels together, toes pointed outward, and she has to lift her heels off the floor. Wow...I tried that then and there, I could feel myself using different leg muscles in order to do this. Holy mackerel.
I told her I'm still having trouble with balance, and showed her the exercises I do to improve mine. She said she did one similar, but instead of putting her arms down to her sides, she was instructed to place her hands together in front of her chest. I think she called it something like 'heart position'. I've decided I'm going to do that.
Then, still talking about balance she mentioned her instructor said one of the most important things we should do is never give up on being able to stand up with out the aid of clinging to something for support. I get that! I always prided myself I was able to get up, even off the floor, without having to push or pull myself up. However, over the years I've discovered I can no longer do that. I've been very embarrassed about having to crawl across the floor on hand and knees to a sofa or chair. It's even more embarrassing when I'm working outside on my hands and knees and have to scour the neighborhood making sure no one is watching as I get myself upright once more. As a result I decided come heck or high water I am going to get myself back into shape to be able to do stand up again...by myself...on my own.
I started yesterday.
Baaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaaaa, Whew, that felt good.
Wish you could have been here, I had myself in such a fit of giggles.
I started by skooching myself to the edge of the sofa, feet firmly planted on the floor. I attempted to stand. I could not get my flabby butt off the cushion. (Snicker.) I tried again, this time I managed to get my butt off the sofa, but my arms flailed about like a fish freshly landing on a beach for the very first and probably last time. (Snicker, snicker.) Plop, down I went onto the sofa.
I think maybe if I grunt while trying to pull myself into a standing position it might help. I do so, as quietly as possible. Did you know you can't grunt in silence 'cause it makes you...well, you know...fart. (Now I'm far beyond snickering.)
I try one more time, by now my legs feel like rubber. I've awakened Zorro...CC has fled in fright, I think because of my flailing arms and Frankie is doubled over in a fit of laughter. It's hard to try to better yourself when those you love get such a kick out of it.
I finally give up, for the moment.
However, now I'm bound and determined I'm going to conquer being able to get myself into a standing position...on my own...without the aid of anything but my own muscle power. I don't care how long it takes! I am going to become the little train that could!
At least I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.
Monday, March 2, 2015
Happy hour
As I posted yesterday I had a date to go to happy hour with friends, and since I had given Frankie such a hard time about my coffee creamer system I invited her to go along with us.
At first she declined, but I pulled the please, please, please, pullllleeeeeaaaase, 'be a two year old kid whine until you say yes' trick. It worked.
Around 3:30 my friend showed up, and the three of us took off to meet our fourth companion. My friend lives within walking distance of many great restaurants, and she suggested we walk. Boy, I shoot Frankie a look...she's not used to walking, is she going to make a fuss. I glance to my left and I can see the intersection with the light and think, it's not all that far, we should be able to make it no problem. After all Frankie and I have been exercising for quite a while, and we are in better shape than we've been in a long, long time, walking several blocks should not present a problem.
Our fourth companion shows up and we begin our trek. It's a beautiful day, there is a scent of spring blossoms on the air and we leisurely stroll along the street. Our conversation is as light and breezy as the day, we talk about all sorts of things which is easy to do since we've not been together for quite a long time.
I glance at Frankie, she's not talking much but I can tell she's enjoying herself and listening to our conversation because she smiles and laughs at the appropriate times. Lake Oswego is a dog friendly city so as we stroll we stop and pet all kinds and sizes of them. We're having a wonderful time. Our destination comes into view. Surprisingly...none of us is winded...even though we talked and laughed the whole way.
We seat ourselves, order drinks and eventually food. Now, you'd think by now we'd have run out of things to talk about, but that was not the case. Frankie talked about the move we hope to make later this year and I was pleased to know she's as excited, yet just a bit as scared as I at the prospect of making such a gigantic change in our lives.
Much too soon it's time to start our trek back to where it began. This time it is slightly up hill. Frankie and I share a secret glance...down hill was one thing, going up was quite another. We needn't have worried the walk was easy-peasy.
Once home I asked Frankie if she had a good time. She sank into a chair and kicked off her cowboy boots as a grin of contentment spread across her face. I grinned back, there was no need for words. I'm glad she agreed to come along because I knew she had forgiven me for my morning tirade, and this morning she made both of us a cup of hazelnut flavored coffee.
All is right in our world.
At first she declined, but I pulled the please, please, please, pullllleeeeeaaaase, 'be a two year old kid whine until you say yes' trick. It worked.
Around 3:30 my friend showed up, and the three of us took off to meet our fourth companion. My friend lives within walking distance of many great restaurants, and she suggested we walk. Boy, I shoot Frankie a look...she's not used to walking, is she going to make a fuss. I glance to my left and I can see the intersection with the light and think, it's not all that far, we should be able to make it no problem. After all Frankie and I have been exercising for quite a while, and we are in better shape than we've been in a long, long time, walking several blocks should not present a problem.
Our fourth companion shows up and we begin our trek. It's a beautiful day, there is a scent of spring blossoms on the air and we leisurely stroll along the street. Our conversation is as light and breezy as the day, we talk about all sorts of things which is easy to do since we've not been together for quite a long time.
I glance at Frankie, she's not talking much but I can tell she's enjoying herself and listening to our conversation because she smiles and laughs at the appropriate times. Lake Oswego is a dog friendly city so as we stroll we stop and pet all kinds and sizes of them. We're having a wonderful time. Our destination comes into view. Surprisingly...none of us is winded...even though we talked and laughed the whole way.
We seat ourselves, order drinks and eventually food. Now, you'd think by now we'd have run out of things to talk about, but that was not the case. Frankie talked about the move we hope to make later this year and I was pleased to know she's as excited, yet just a bit as scared as I at the prospect of making such a gigantic change in our lives.
Much too soon it's time to start our trek back to where it began. This time it is slightly up hill. Frankie and I share a secret glance...down hill was one thing, going up was quite another. We needn't have worried the walk was easy-peasy.
Once home I asked Frankie if she had a good time. She sank into a chair and kicked off her cowboy boots as a grin of contentment spread across her face. I grinned back, there was no need for words. I'm glad she agreed to come along because I knew she had forgiven me for my morning tirade, and this morning she made both of us a cup of hazelnut flavored coffee.
All is right in our world.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Grrrrr, darn Frankie.
Me: "FRANKIE!" Yes, I'm yelling. Sometimes I could spit tacks.
Frankie saunters into the kitchen, steaming mug of coffee in hand. See, I knew she was guilty. She looks so innocent...so.....ahhhh!!!!
Frankie: (Taking a bite of peanut butter covered bagel.) "What's got your bun wound so tight?"
She actually snickered. Grrrr.
Me: "Did we not have a long talk about the flavored coffee creamers? Did we not set up a system to rotate the creamers so they all run out at the same time?"
Frankie screws up her face in fake concentration, wrinkling her brow, shifting her mouth from side to side, scratching her nose. "I guess I recollect something like that."
Me: "Is that all you have to say for yourself? You know you deliberately messed up the order."
Frankie moves way to far into my personal space and challenges me. "How do you know I messed up the order, maybe you did."
I drag her to the cupboard and remind her about the system. There are four jars of flavored creamers and one jar of just plain sugar...the sugar is the jar that guides us through the system. Every day, the creamer we are to use that day sits in front of the sugar, every day as we use that creamer, a new creamer moves in front of the sugar container and a round robin system begins. It works well, each creamer container empties within days of each other.
Frankie hates this system.
Oh, I know, it is kind of silly, but I guess I kind of have a bit of OCD because I like the order of my creamer system...I know each day I will enjoy a different flavoring in my coffee, and I also know I will be opening new containers all at once, not one every two weeks or so. Frankie, on the other hand does not care a twit. Dang her.
So, Frankie says, "Just how do you know I used a creamer out of order, anyway?"
Me: (Sighing.) "Yesterday, I used the pumpkin spice, which means I should not have found it in front of the sugar container this morning."
Frankie: "I didn't want pumpkin spice yesterday, but I did this morning, so I moved back in front of the sugar for this morning.
Me: "But, I should be having hazelnut this morning...I want hazelnut!"
Frankie in her usual, I don't give a crap attitude grabs my cheeks squeezes just a tad hard, while being waaaaay to close in my private space when she says: "I've got one word for you getoverit!'
Wow!!! This is hard to process. I retreat, intending to return and do battle...she's not getting away with this. No way!!!!
I take my pumpkin spice flavored coffee and go to my office contemplating my revenge. All of a sudden I recall a conversation I had yesterday when I boastfully and proudly exclaimed I was pleased I've become mature and forgiving, able to overlook the small stuff. Yet here I was making an awful fuss over of all things...coffee creamers. Oh, I don't know I will ever be able to give up on my rotation system because I like it, but I have learned a lesson this morning. In the scheme of things does it really matter if Frankie occasionally, or even frequently wants a different flavor in her coffee than I do? Nope, I don't think so.
This was definitely 'sweating a small stuff' thing and I definitely should be the bigger person and overlook it.
So since I'm going with friends to happy hour this afternoon, as a way of making up and saying I'm sorry, I think I'll ask Frankie to come along.
Frankie saunters into the kitchen, steaming mug of coffee in hand. See, I knew she was guilty. She looks so innocent...so.....ahhhh!!!!
Frankie: (Taking a bite of peanut butter covered bagel.) "What's got your bun wound so tight?"
She actually snickered. Grrrr.
Me: "Did we not have a long talk about the flavored coffee creamers? Did we not set up a system to rotate the creamers so they all run out at the same time?"
Frankie screws up her face in fake concentration, wrinkling her brow, shifting her mouth from side to side, scratching her nose. "I guess I recollect something like that."
Me: "Is that all you have to say for yourself? You know you deliberately messed up the order."
Frankie moves way to far into my personal space and challenges me. "How do you know I messed up the order, maybe you did."
I drag her to the cupboard and remind her about the system. There are four jars of flavored creamers and one jar of just plain sugar...the sugar is the jar that guides us through the system. Every day, the creamer we are to use that day sits in front of the sugar, every day as we use that creamer, a new creamer moves in front of the sugar container and a round robin system begins. It works well, each creamer container empties within days of each other.
Frankie hates this system.
Oh, I know, it is kind of silly, but I guess I kind of have a bit of OCD because I like the order of my creamer system...I know each day I will enjoy a different flavoring in my coffee, and I also know I will be opening new containers all at once, not one every two weeks or so. Frankie, on the other hand does not care a twit. Dang her.
So, Frankie says, "Just how do you know I used a creamer out of order, anyway?"
Me: (Sighing.) "Yesterday, I used the pumpkin spice, which means I should not have found it in front of the sugar container this morning."
Frankie: "I didn't want pumpkin spice yesterday, but I did this morning, so I moved back in front of the sugar for this morning.
Me: "But, I should be having hazelnut this morning...I want hazelnut!"
Frankie in her usual, I don't give a crap attitude grabs my cheeks squeezes just a tad hard, while being waaaaay to close in my private space when she says: "I've got one word for you getoverit!'
Wow!!! This is hard to process. I retreat, intending to return and do battle...she's not getting away with this. No way!!!!
I take my pumpkin spice flavored coffee and go to my office contemplating my revenge. All of a sudden I recall a conversation I had yesterday when I boastfully and proudly exclaimed I was pleased I've become mature and forgiving, able to overlook the small stuff. Yet here I was making an awful fuss over of all things...coffee creamers. Oh, I don't know I will ever be able to give up on my rotation system because I like it, but I have learned a lesson this morning. In the scheme of things does it really matter if Frankie occasionally, or even frequently wants a different flavor in her coffee than I do? Nope, I don't think so.
This was definitely 'sweating a small stuff' thing and I definitely should be the bigger person and overlook it.
So since I'm going with friends to happy hour this afternoon, as a way of making up and saying I'm sorry, I think I'll ask Frankie to come along.
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