tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48810979876147624462024-03-05T04:00:57.040-07:00Essays Etc. by JAHDOne bewildered person's examination of this, our fascinating world.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger341125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-89213989221682577132015-04-13T08:56:00.000-06:002015-04-13T08:57:56.477-06:00Oh, the festivities!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">It's Purse Dumping Day! The contents of mine are not particularly unusual or scary this time. There's probably more unrefrigerated cheese than is necessary (hard to say) but there are no horribly aging bananas. Perhaps you'd like to dump your purse today too! (Or your backpack or that compartment in your hat where you've been stowing things for way too long) It's like receiving a Christmas stocking from Santa that he filled at the end of his route from debris in his sleigh. There might even be some used reindeer tissues in there; I don't know. Happy Purse Dumping Day and Monday to you all!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">JAHD</span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-84802932920398510112015-03-18T19:48:00.003-06:002015-03-18T19:48:57.542-06:00Clarifying My Thoughts on Human Interaction - Perhaps I'm Less Awful Than I Sometimes SeemIn describing my thoughts recently, before going to a writers' workshop, I may have seemed unfriendly. Part of what I said was exaggeration. I did not sit under a chair or table at the workshop I attended on Saturday. (But I don't frown upon anyone who did; that's a personal choice.) And I didn't mean to suggest that there weren't a lot of lovely people at that workshop. Every person who was in that room has a story, fears, hopes, accomplishments and a unique take on the world. It would be interesting to hear them all. What I mean when I am going to a workshop and want to be left alone and that, in an ideal world, I would be invisible, is that I'm tired and, while I have the energy to sit in a room and take in information, I don't have the energy required to socialize with the people there. Socializing requires effort on my part. It's worth the effort but sometimes I don't have the necessary energy to expend.<br />
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For me, there are two broad categories of social interaction. There is the interaction with people whom I don't know well, if at all, and that with people with whom I have established a connection and can really connect. Each presents its owns challenges. Both can be very life-enriching.<br />
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Talking with people I don't know requires me to dance around in unfamiliar territory as I try to uncover the person with whom I am conversing and see if I can connect with them. I guess that is how we initially interact with many people in our lives, however close to them we later become. We only interact with some people for a few moments but those times can be meaningful. I remember chance encounters with people and brief discussions that have touched me. I recall speaking with an elderly gentleman at a bus stop downtown when I I was very worried about something (although he didn't know of my concerns) and ind words at the gym when the words of another person had hurt me. I hope that there are people who have been helped by my words whether they remember them or me or the occasion or not. And while these interactions show there can always be merit in connecting with people, it doesn't change fact that sometimes I have the energy available for interaction and sometimes I don't. And because invisibility is not an option and cruelly ignoring people when afforded the opportunity to speak with them is not what I want to do, I can feel at times reluctant to be near new people at all.<br />
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The other communication setting in which I engage is with people I know reasonably well and with whom I feel comfortable. I love conversation with one or a few friends. When in a setting with people daring to offer bits of themselves, their souls, as they attempt to connect with me and with others, I feel fully alive. While I love writing and love connecting with people words in various ways, I treasure the time I have spent with people in conversation over the years. The conversations of true connection that I value most, however, also require energy for me. Wherever we are and whomever we sit across from or stand near or try to comfort on a couch, there are distractions - in our heads, in our coffee shops in our workplaces and coming from all our electronic devices. To focus on one person and their words, their feelings behind them is, in my opinion, essential to true relationship. It requires effort and we cannot be passive to engage in it properly.<br />
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So, if I say things that suggest that I hate interacting with people and perhaps even hate most other people, I am not explaining things well at all. Conversation always requires some effort on my part. Sometimes I don't feel up to the challenge of expending it. Some days I feel like shutting off and not trying to engage or connect with others. I hope that's ok and I never mean to offend anyone. I need to simply be with and pay attention to my thoughts sometimes. Perhaps we all do.<br />
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JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-76737727951201051092015-02-23T12:03:00.000-07:002015-02-23T12:03:01.203-07:00With that Cup, Does Society Break Down?I hope not. And I'm not really a person who tends towards thoughts of society breaking down. That would be a shame.<br />
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I am dismayed though, when I see a coffee cup lying on the edge of the sidewalk. Unless someone had a spectacular fall and dropped their cup of coffee or let it go when their child attempted to run off from them, I can't see a good reason to discard a cup and leave it for someone else to pick up, whether the person thinks about that eventuality or not. In what may seem like the small act of littering, a person is showing a disregard for society beyond him/herself. It's bigger than a coffee cup. Why don't they care?<br />
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I've carried a lot of cups of coffee around. From an environmental standpoint, it's shameful. I should work on it. But I have never dropped my cup at the side of the road when I'm done, or left it on a store shelf. I've put empty cups in my purse before to carry them until I could find a garbage can. (Awful things go on in my purse anyways; it's not like a few drops of coffee will make things a lot worse.) It's not difficult. They fit in pockets too.<br />
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I think it's sad when someone cares so little for the world outside their narrow field of vision. A coffee cup may be small but I think, in some ways, it's huge. It would be so much nicer if even more people cared.<br />
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JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-3894413635861131872015-02-21T00:53:00.002-07:002015-02-21T19:01:59.097-07:00The World Needs These BooksI have come up with some book titles that merit consideration, for any number of reasons. If there are any in which you are particularly interested, please let me know and I'll fire up my quill. Happy reading!<br />
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1. Ducks - Some of the Information You Need to Know<br />
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2. All About Lemons: 460 Pages of Important (and Fun!) Information About this Yellow Fruit<br />
(Note: this is not a book about lemonade)<br />
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3. Indoor Bird Watching for Those Who Don't Have Windows<br />
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4. Important Dates in Tea Towel History (A Non-Pictorial Chronology)<br />
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5. Chairs and Seating, A Look at Comfort (Special Feature: The Beanbag!)<br />
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6. Communicating with your Goldfish (First in a Ten Volume Series)<br />
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7. When to Use Cutlery - A Helpful Guide (Learning to Feel Confident When Facing a Bowl of Soup!)<br />
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8. Back to the Wild: Staying Safe When Animals Break Free at the Zoo<br />
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9. New Shapes in Umbrellas: A Look at the Triangle<br />
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10. Sure we have the egg but... - Memoirs of the Oval, A Sometimes Forgotten Shape<br />
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11. Mold at the Back of the Fridge: Recalling Your Intentions When That Food Was So Shiny and News<br />
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12. Crafting with Earwax - Creating Beautiful Items with Nature's Generous Bounty<br />
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13. Ventriloquism - Why? Just, Why?<br />
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14. The Case Against Mozzarella<br />
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15. Whom to Call When Your Rabbit Makes Mad (Assuming You Still Have an Unchewed Charger Cord or Landline Wire and Are Able to Make Calls)<br />
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16. Look at Me; I'm Baking Soda! How One Household Substance Developed Such a Large and Troubling Ego<br />
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17. Beyond Your Coffee Addiction: Finding Other Uses for the Hand that Held the Cup<br />
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18. When Good Boots Fail: A Slippery Account of Bitter Disappointment (and Injured Knees)<br />
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19. Hibernation Pros and Cons for the Undecided Goose: Essays and Exercises for the Individual and Flock<br />
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20. And, from our self-help series, "You're Passive, You're Aggressive: Is It Time to Focus on Just One?"<br />
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JAHD<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-1338455835024964432015-02-17T20:38:00.004-07:002015-02-17T20:38:56.838-07:00Writing in the DarkIt is 1:57 in the morning and I am writing in the dark. I am being kind to my husband who is asleep. Pens are quiet. Turning the page might not be. We'll see.<br />
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I cannot see anything that I write. It's possible that I am writing over words already there.<br />
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Always, though, it seems we are doing these things.<br />
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We write or type words but when they leave our fingers, we don't know where they go. Who reads them? Do they fade into nothingness? Do they disappear in the air?<br />
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And aren't we always writing over words, preconceptions, beliefs?<br />
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I am writing in the dark but, really, this is not my first experience at it.<br />
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We all write into obscurity and hope to find a place among words already there.<br />
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JAHD<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-11712474444218481752015-02-17T18:39:00.001-07:002015-02-17T18:39:26.580-07:00Impressions from This MorningPeople get on the bus - their eyes - what will they see today? what do they want to see? what do they fear?<br />
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A man walks his dog back home. The dog no longer needs a leash; it follows behind the man. The dog has done this many times and moves more slowly now.<br />
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Children jog by outside a school. It's gym class or a running class. They'll feel refreshed later; they don't look happy now.<br />
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A woman boards the bus and, instantly, all the fallacies of the beauty industry crumble. her face, softened by the years is beautiful. What stories does she have? Does anyone ask her to tell them? Does anyone listen when she speaks?<br />
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The bus moves on, traffic moves in different directions. The city is alive, each of its people precious.<br />
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JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-31056237647398406962015-02-09T10:39:00.003-07:002015-02-09T10:39:52.534-07:00Listening WithinI have a habit of collecting inspiration quotes. I collect funny quotes too but I don't think the funny quotes are a problem. And while the inspirational quotes may offer good guidance and ideas, I think t here's a limit to how much outside guidance we need to ask for in our lives.<br />
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We each have wisdom. If we take a break from paying attention to the cacophony of voices, ideas and hysteria around us, maybe our own inner voices would feel more free to speak. And when we did speak, write, somehow share our thoughts, the world would be better for hearing, reading, knowing them. I am going to take a break from seeking inspiration from quotes. I will listen to myself more. Maybe I will uncover some inspiring words of my own. (Right now I am thinking that I should put my left sock on my foot. That's not really inspiring but it is a good idea to wear two socks. So I'll consider it a good start.)<br />
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JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-8355106104961185122015-01-19T19:20:00.000-07:002015-01-19T20:52:33.964-07:00Random Observations on a January Day1. I bought a new scale. In addition to weight, it shows various statistics about one's body (perhaps even hat size - I can check). I'm interested in this but puzzled as to how the numbers can be accurate. If I stand on the scale with a large (or small) watermelon in my hands, how will the scale now that I'm doing that. It doesn't happen often but it could. And if it does know that you're holding fruit, how does it know what type? At least if it asked (Ma'am - is that a honeydew or a watermelon you're holding onto there?) you'd know it was trying. If it doesn't ask, and acts all snooty like it just knows your body fat and percentage of water regardless of what you're holding, it's not as great a device as it makes itself out to be.<br />
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2. For someone who is trying to eat a lot less gluten, I bought way too much cereal for myself over the weekend. And we already had excess cereal in the house. I thought of throwing a cereal party where guests bring their own bowls, we supply spoons and everyone digs in. The invitations would have to be very specific though: I wouldn't want people to show up at the door bringing their own cereal or offering it as hostess gifts. I fear my disdain at the introduction of even more cereal to the house would show. I'd have to warn people against bringing oranges too. We have way too many oranges. Perhaps they could be dessert at the cereal party - I'm never sure what food best pairs with a main course of Cheerios. (And I think that one of the unopened packages of cereal will go to the food bank. Some mistakes end up being beneficial.)<br />
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3. When the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, I feel that emptying it will take days of my time, I will not be able to breathe or function in any normal ways while emptying it and that afterwards, I'll have to spend at least another six or seven weeks reloading it and will probably never have a life again beyond the area of the kitchen near the dishwasher. When the dishwasher is empty, however, I am not troubled by the thought of reloading it at all. Even when a sizable crowd of mugs, plates, glasses and cutlery has gathered on the counter (and is starting to get a bit unruly) I am pleased to put them in the dishwasher and feel no sense of impending doom. And I like that. It's never particularly enjoyable to have a sense of impending doom.<br />
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4. I know now to include gloves as part of my outfit when attending a social function with dry, irritated hands. Recently, I attended a family dinner without gloves. By the end of the evening, someone had recommended I try her favourite brand of hand cream and had me sample it. By the end of that week, people had purchased two containers of it for me as well as foot cream made by the same manufacturer. My foot care needs hadn't even been discussed and my feet were never visible at the dinner table (that night). I appreciate people's care and concern but I had hand cream at home that I like and once I stopped using a certain soap, my hands were fine. It'll be easier (and more mysterious and that's cool) to wear gloves. Perhaps I should start a business selling "indoor gloves for people whose extended family members insist on taking on their dry skin issues even when the issues are really not all that bad." I will relish both the privacy that the gloves provide me and others like me and the profits my entrepreneurial adventure brings.<br />
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5. I had considered a drug store a good place to purchase small Christmas gifts. They have such a variety of items. When I started looking, however, I encountered items such as Gaviscon and Cepacol. I don't know that I'm entirely comfortable giving those items as gifts. There's a chance that someone will be experiencing heartburn on Christmas morning and will consider Gaviscon to be a perfect gift choice. But one can't predict something like that, especially when you live at a distance and can't cook for them in a way that encourages digestive discomfort. Likewise, throat lozenges can provide soothing relief but conditions have to be right for you to appreciate that. Ideally, you have to have a sore throat. And while people may appreciate notebooks and pens and I hope people like soap (I give soap A LOT. I really encourage a clean and fragrant world), massaging gel insoles, bandaids and all manner of products to contain all manner of, um, liquids probably won't light up faces on Christmas morning. So shopping at a drug store for Christmas gifts has limitations. But if you received or gave Gaviscon as a gift, that's great and I hope that there was just the right amount of digestive struggle to make it right for everyone.<br />
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6. At some point, I saw wrapping paper at Costco with penguins on it and it seemed like a good idea to buy it. It seems like a good idea to buy lots of things at Costco. Often that turns out to be true. With the wrapping paper, though, the paper was large. It was very large. It still is. I managed to lug it from the basement to my wrapping table. I wanted to use it. It was hard to use it though as the whole role was just so big. I don't want to have to clear out a sizable area around me when I'm going to move the roll, I don't want to fear that someone could get seriously injured if this paper ever rolled off the table and hit them. And I don't want to wrap people's presents so that all they see of a penguin is an arm/wing/flipper/upper right appendage. I was not giving large presents to most people (although thankfully there was a penguin-loving yoga mat recipient in the crowd - that worked out pretty well); the penguins were getting chopped up pretty badly. I learned from this that the scale of things at Costco can be different to the scale of things in my life and home. Costco is ideal for big organizations, big families. Big penguins (probably Emperors and Kings) may like shopping at Costco. For small families and people wrapping small presents, the scale can be off unless you're wrapping a big penguin. Or something like a moose. Then this paper would be good.<br />
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Well, it's now a January evening or night and in some places a January morning. Whatever time it is, enjoy it, and I hope you're not suffering any digestive distress. It makes me feel bad that I didn't buy Gavison for anyone after all.<br />
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JAHD<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-31041342375337937832015-01-19T16:15:00.001-07:002015-01-19T16:15:32.974-07:00At Christmastime and BeyondI started writing this entry before Christmas. I hope it still has something to say. We'll see.<br />
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In the Christmas season, as throughout the rest of the year, people have worries, sadness, sometimes tragedies. In looking at a small family today, I noticed that the father didn't look happy. Sitting with his wife, a small child and a baby, one might in passing, consider his life to be charmed. When we see babies, children, we might think things are all good. But there can be worries, there can be real concerns. Even at Christmas. It's not all trips to see Santa and smiles and toys for young families. It's not all happy visits and good food and fun gifts for adults. There can be sadness too; there can be pain, there can be missing people and there can be emotional trips in one's mind back over the years.<br />
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We cannot, much as we would wish, stop the "slings and arrows," to quote Shakespeare, of life from flying around and hitting people sometimes. Christmas can't and doesn't stop it, nor does being good or working hard or getting a good sleep. We're humans and we're vulnerable and it seems, at least, that all this kind of stinks.<br />
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What we can do to soften the blows from the injuries people incur in life? I hope that, because of Christmas and the love shown by Jesus whose birth we celebrate that day, we can learn to offer our love to those who need it, and really we all do. I hope as well that Christmas does not, with its memories, its expectations, hurt people already be feeling pain. Rather, I hope that in quiet moments by Christmas trees, and in acts of kindness and of love, people can find healing, peace and hope.<br />
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Christmas is over for this year now. I hope it has brought goodness to you in whatever form you need it.<br />
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Take care, my friends. All the best for peace and healing and hope and joy after the holiday season as well.<br />
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JAHD<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-53179245259051261572014-12-30T20:39:00.002-07:002014-12-30T20:39:23.178-07:00Puddles and Plants and StuffAs I sit here, I am looking at a puddle of water that has formed outside the plant I watered moments ago. As well, I can see a tray. If the plant were sitting on the tray, the water would not have leaked. Oh, what a simple solution. Oh, what a puddle to clean up.<div>
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OK, I solved that problem.</div>
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While I did solve that problem, I wonder what I can learn from yet another small domestic blunder. Am I to be reminded of how simple preventive measures can make life so much easier? Am I to question if, indeed, some people really aren't capable of handling the responsibilities of a house and need to employ domestic help, whatever the expense? Or am I just to realize that there is too much going on in this house, too much lying around, too many things that take up space and require attention but which don't advance the cause of anyone in this house or in society? Do I even want plants? Maybe. But do I enjoy them or merely toss some water at them once in a while out of a sense of duty and hope the water lands within the pots?</div>
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I'm about to read a book about an apparently great system of tidying up, once and for all. I hope this approach works. I feel that there is stuff around me in this house that is not serving my purposes anymore. Why do we try to hang on? I think I should let at least some of this stuff go.</div>
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And the next time I am in IKEA, near the end of the store, parched from thirst and bewildered by thoughts of what I may still want or not want to buy, I will try to stop myself from buying yet another plant. Buying one won't make me an indoor plant person. Nor improve my life in countless (nor even countable) ways. There are artificial plants in that section too. Maybe one of them is a better option. Or, I could take a few steps back and buy a picture frame. It may end up in a pile with the other picture frames whose sizes don't match any pictures you've ever taken or seen or bought but it won't require watering and it's not dangerous like a candle. Yes, perhaps I should stick to picture frames. I've amassed quite a nice collection.</div>
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And soon, I will go and stare at my plants. Perhaps I will realize that they are more wonderful than I had realized. Perhaps I will notice that there are more puddles and, since I can't hire a staff, I should probably buy some absorbent cloths. Or picture frames. Or something. Just not more indoor plants.</div>
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JAHD</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-78526266346659493952014-12-22T08:55:00.001-07:002014-12-22T08:55:56.688-07:00Recommitting - and Connecting AnewI did a little bit of thinking about this blog and, really, the purpose of it. I determined what that purpose going forward will be.<br />
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I want to connect with people again. Whether you're a new or old reader here, I will write solely again so that we can connect with each other.<br />
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Stay tuned and I hope that you are enjoying your Christmas preparations and/other holiday celebrations!<br />
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JoanneUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-19417520884372954592014-11-19T10:44:00.003-07:002014-11-19T10:44:44.464-07:00While I Wait for My Coffee to CoolMy coffee's too hot but I feel like if I don't have coffee, I might not be able to go on and I could add milk or even water to cool it down but milk doesn't always taste good in coffee and adding water sounds weird but if adding water enabled me to go on, perhaps it would be worth it but it's so hard to say because I don't have nearly enough coffee in me, just a few searingly hot sips, and I may have spilled some of this hot liquid as I transferred it to the end table over the disproportionately high chesterfield/couch/sofa arm and I'm never sure what I should call this piece of furniture but it probably doesn't matter - the height of its arms are more of an issue - and there could be an inland lake of coffee down there on the table but I'd have to look way, way down to see it and it doesn't matter right now anyways because until I drink some of that coffee, I'm not going to wipe up the coffee spill because I'll be sitting here waiting for the heat to escape that coffee and I think I actually have some notion of that element of physics right - heat escapes - even though physics was not my thing but I went down swinging and Mr. Munro was a nice teacher and he never came right out and said that I should give up - he always seemed to be looking at some far-off point in the future when students like I would finally see the light or at perhaps at the time when he would no longer have to deal with us - and, oh, high school science wasn't good for me but thinking like that doesn't get coffee into me this morning so, it maybe okay now to secure the system of ropes and pulleys to bring my coffee up to me and see if the temperature of it has cooled sufficiently that I can drink some of it and obtain the power I need to be able to go on.<br />
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JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-42257202981705559532014-11-13T14:23:00.004-07:002014-11-13T20:10:07.921-07:00Thoughts of Hunger and Other Stuff While on A PlaneLast week I flew to Toronto. I jotted down thoughts as the flight progressed. My son contributed some of his thoughts too. I will share them with you now. I was pretty hungry when I wrote them. It did start off as a way for me to try to calm down. The massive security line-up and slow boarding had been unpleasant. No hats were harmed or eaten during the flight (as far as I know.)<br />
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I struggle, as I sit here, to find my center, to find my peace. I don't understand how it can take that long to board a plane. The thing I don't get is that these people must do this quite regularly and yet it all seems new. Maybe this (writing) is how I relax. Maybe this is how I center myself. Who knows?<br />
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I don't particularly enjoy bumps when I'm in a plane. What are we hitting? It makes all that science stuff a little too real. Contained in the plane and away. The wonder, the joy of flying.<br />
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Where's my pretzel bag? I was savagely hungry when I received them. Did I eat the bag? Oh man, I can just imagine when the flight attendant comes for garbage. She'll say "I know I gave you pretzels - what'd you do with the bag?" And I won't have a good explanation.<br />
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I could look at the on-board menu but my experience on planes has led me to believe that those menus are fictional. Is that fiction? There are pictures of real food but it's not food that is available on the plane. A work like that is kind of in its own genre.<br />
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Oh, I wonder if that was a mistake. I've put my glass in the seat pocket and now I'm thirsty. I don't want to use that glass again but fear that the flight attendant won't want to give me another one after the pretzel bag incident. I can produce the first glass so it's not that she'll think I ate it too but that whole thing may have turned her against me.<br />
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I was hungry in the airport. Oddly, while there were 14,000 people in the security line, the food area beyond security was not busy. And while I had wanted food that could be purchased quickly and would revive me, the service was slow and the food was not good. I didn't feel revived; I felt like I'd eaten bad food. It was quite disappointing.<br />
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Dehydration is starting to overtake me. The crew may be willing to serve me coffee as that would require a different type of cup. I hope that one flight attendant is ready to move on from the pretzel bag incident. Some time has passed. Perhaps we can begin again.<br />
<br />
With hope I will look at the menu much as a child plays with a toy. I know it not real but briefly, it may bring me joy.<br />
<br />
I have found a meal I want. I will retrieve my credit card and dream of the chance that I may receive the food I saw pictured.<br />
<br />
The flight is going quickly. This cheers me.<br />
<br />
The flight attendants just passed. I could have fought for my turkey and brie sandwich but they made no indication that we could order food. I don't have the moral strength to pursue the matter.<br />
<br />
Nourishment still eludes me.<br />
<br />
Words that describe the current situation: Shocked, Saddened, Betrayed, Bullied. And hungry. I feel them all.<br />
<br />
I look at a member of my family who is sleeping. I resent him for the peace he experiences. But I will not disturb his slumber.<br />
<br />
A brief game of "I Spy" with another family member proved confusing and controversial. We now know that this game can be played within a darkened plane. It doesn't make one feel less hungry, however.<br />
<br />
I no longer hope that food will be offered despite all of those attractive food options I saw in the menu. Alas, it matters not what sandwich I chose.<br />
<br />
Having given up on food service, I look at the backs of people's heads in front of me. I learn very little about them from this activity. I'm okay with that. From this vantage point, at least, they don't look like an interesting or inspiring group.<br />
<br />
The seat of the person right in front of me is reclined very far. I could start stroking the man's hair if I felt a need to do that. I do not feel that need. He has nice hair though and I do not feel rage at his invasion of my space. Perhaps my hunger has rendered me too weak to feel strong emotions of any sort at this time.<br />
<br />
A sleeping passenger across the aisle has removed his hat. He clings to it though. He should; it's a stylish hat. His appearance is different when he is hatless. I wonder what he looks like when awake. He has spent so much time sleeping I have not had a chance to find this out. Perhaps he is so hungry he cannot stay awake. I would not be surprised to see him munching on his hat soon.<br />
<br />
While famished, I enjoy the peace on board right now. No one is in the aisle serving food (obviously) or drink and the flight is smooth.<br />
<br />
While I know that flight attendants may have duties of which I am unaware, I notice that this flight seems to have a large number of them when one considers the service that has been provided.<br />
<br />
Accepting that food will not be provided, I put my credit card and the menu away. Perhaps the garbled message near the start of the flight was intended to convey some information about the food and some unpleasant fate that had befallen it. Perhaps it is best not to know what happened.<br />
<br />
Reaching down to put my credit card in my purse, I find that my foot is caught in one of the purse's handles. While it takes some effort to free it that is visible to other passengers, I am grateful that I learned this before I tried to get out at some point only to fall down in the aisle. I might have disturbed the sleeping man with the hat. I might have reignited the fury of the flight attendant who had tried to retrieve my pretzel bag. Neither of those things happened and that is good.<br />
<br />
In my famished state, I glance at the map and believe that we have gotten close to Hudson and/or James Bay. This has not happened nor should it. I sort that out and come closer to figuring out where we are. It's good that we are nearing our destination; I really need to eat.<br />
<br />
Beginning our descent, I try to accept the lack of food provided and aim to find food within the airport. A chocolate bar (or wrapper) would do. At this point, eating at least one of those items, oh, it is my biggest dream.<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-58264840516118301612014-11-01T23:29:00.000-06:002014-11-03T11:57:07.963-07:00On Tomatoes, A Toaster and the Potential for Fire in the Morning"What if the tomatoes catch fire?" That was one of my earliest thoughts after I got up this morning. I'm probably not the only one who dislikes dealing with a tomato-related fire at the start of the day. I was making toast. The tomatoes were in a plastic container near the toaster. We've had problems with the toaster before. There's been smoke. What if the toaster took aim at the tomatoes? I can't be sure its intentions are good. I don't really feel I know that toaster at all. As well, I don't know the chemical compounds that tomatoes and plastic could form. I'm not eager to discover them. The tomatoes wouldn't have have been a loss. They're aging. They're not aging well. The fire would have been a concern. If we were able to extinguish or at least contain it, we'd have to reassure ADT that all was well. I don't know the weekend fire alarm people at ADT well. It would be worse if we were unable to control the fire. I'd have to let ADT send the fire department this time. I'd miss out on my toast. The tomatoes didn't catch fire. That's good. My husband's reaction to the whole issue, when I recounted my concerns later, was "Why didn't you move the tomatoes?" It's likely that man will never be the one responsible for letting a kitchen fire start in our house. I admire that in him. But while he is moving potentially flammable objects away from dangerously hot small appliances, I'll be the one seeing the possibilities in situations and stopping to consider them, even as the threat of fire looms around me. Perhaps there is value in that too. Perhaps there's really not. Safe toasting to all, both the practical and the more contemplative among us! And happy tomatoes too!<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-21525963652331854542014-10-23T15:43:00.001-06:002014-10-23T15:43:13.879-06:00The True Waffle StoryIn a hotel where I stayed last week, a sign in the elevator noted the "Daily Complimentary Hot Waffle Breakfast." To me the focus on waffles, to the exclusion of all other foods, seemed presumptuous. Had the hotel decided that everyone staying there would eat waffles and would this be strictly enforced, or was there an expectation that people love waffles and would jump for joy (hopefully not in the elevator because that's a weird experience) when they learned of this offering? Do people love waffles a lot more than I had realized?<br />
<br />
As it turned out, the breakfast was not as waffle-centric as the sign had made it seem. Other food was offered as well - much of it typical of those types of breakfast situations. There were small, heavily processed muffins and danishes that I would not choose to eat anywhere else, hard boiled eggs that likely came from chickens far, far away and juices and coffees that seemed to run out just when you had the opportunity to obtain them. It can take some work to gather the components necessary for your meal at a complimentary breakfast bar.<br />
<br />
I did not attempt to make waffles while there. And while I do not mind eating a waffle when the time is right, I do not see the attraction, for anyone, of making them in a hotel breakfast bar. There is the potential for a lot of mess when, morning after morning, new guests try to learn about and use waffle irons with which they are unfamiliar. There has to be batter sticking to the equipment, leaking out of the equipment and potentially burning in the equipment. In addition to that, I don't see the benefit of fresh-made waffles when the batter for them is squirted out from a waffle batter machine. I question how this amounts to an experience any more wholesome than popping an Eggo in the toaster and splashing some syrup on it. Perhaps there is some charm of which I am unaware.<br />
<br />
I wonder what would happen if all the guests in the hotel decided one morning that, yes, they did want waffles for breakfast. The hotel was right; waffles were the answer after all. Would there be enough of the batter on the premises to meet the demand? I considered that perhaps there was a reservoir of waffle batter under the hotel parking lot. Perhaps, if you stayed at the hotel for enough nights, you would see a tanker truck come and feed something in through a hose. Always, in pipes and vast storage rooms, a ready inventory of this important substance would be at the ready. Never, would anyone really know what it contained but as long as people could always make waffles for themselves, that wouldn't matter.<br />
<br />
Next time I am at a hotel, and especially one where a "Daily Complimentary Hot Waffle Breakfast" is offered, I will see if I can spot any doors leading to any subterranean rooms and vaguely labeled "Breakfast Supplies" or "Reservoir Entrance" or, the very obvious,"Waffle Batter Storage." I still won't have waffles, none of these thoughts have made me want to do that, but I will try to get a better understanding of the hotel's handling of them. I'll be eating my over-processed pastry and well-traveled egg as I observe the waffle happenings. And I'll look for pipes that are attached to the batter machine and know I am onto the truth.<br />
<br />
JAHD<br />
<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-27385704948424065042014-10-23T15:15:00.001-06:002014-10-23T15:44:13.768-06:00Is that what improving means?<span style="color: #674ea7;">We have new neighbours. I don't know a lot about them. That's ok. I remain in close contact with my former neighbours and was happy when they dropped by recently. We also keep up through texts. We continue to make each other laugh.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7;">Since the new people moved in, they have had most of the trees on their lawn taken down, had the lawn dug up and had new sod planted. A neighbour across the street commented to my husband yesterday, though, about how much better the place looks already. When he says that, I find it upsetting. When I think of him and why he says that, I feel sad.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7;">While the grass next door is beautiful now and we may, at some times of the year, get more light in our house, I found beauty in the property before. Seeing and hearing little boys play (even though sometimes they scared me when they zoomed their trucks down to the road), having impromptu conversations with their mother and knowing we were there for each other when we needed help, and,one time, repeatedly seeing one of the little boy's heads appear in a window as he jumped on his bed were beautiful to me. We no longer have any of those experiences.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #674ea7;">I see so many people on this street who, while they may be nice people, put a very high value on pristine lawns and trees. Pristine lawns and trees don't make you laugh and are not great at conversation. People can do both and when some nice ones move away, I miss them. And when their contribution to the street is not valued. I think that's sad.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #674ea7;">JAHD</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-22421702355574475532014-10-23T14:19:00.001-06:002014-10-23T17:48:58.172-06:00Still More Book TitlesI came up with a short list of possible book titles, again. Please let me know if there are any which you are particularly interested in reading.<br />
<br />
1. I'll Never Do That But Thanks: A Gracious Guide for Listening to Advice You Know You Will Not Use<br />
<br />
2. When Food Purchases Go Wrong: Grisly Pizza, Disturbing Doughnuts and Other Heartbreaks You've Bought At The Grocery Store<br />
<br />
3. Doing Good Deeds In Secret And Wishing People Knew: A Study of Your Motives, A Look Into Your Soul<br />
<br />
4. How Not to Attack Your Child in the Night Even When They Really Scare You<br />
<br />
5. Toothbrush-Related Accidents and the Damage They Leave Behind (A Stunning Presentation In Pictures)<br />
<br />
6. Evaluating Squirrels - Their Leaps, Jumps and Prances - So You'll Know How They Really Feel<br />
<br />
7. An In-Depth Look at Pickles (Now With Bonus Section: Selected Profiles Of Those Who Fear Them)<br />
<br />
8. Learning to Understand (And Not Throw Things At) Someone who Yells "Phone!" When It Rings<br />
<br />
9. When Sudden Furniture Moves Seem Necessary; A Consideration of Motivations, Injuries And Hope For A Creative But More Patient Future<br />
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10. Determining Whether You're A Role Model Or Your Life Should Serve As A Cautionary Tale<br />
<br />
11. You and Your Fear of Closed-Up Hotels: Comforting Words and Pictures That Probably Won't Help At All<br />
<br />
12. When You Covet Cream Cheese: Dealing With Jealousy When A Friend Eats A Bagel Near You<br />
<br />
13. Steve, the Pumpkin: His Memoirs and Collected Papers (Volume I)<br />
<br />
14. When Your Rabbit Frets: Helping Him Communicate About That Which Troubles Him Most<br />
<br />
15. Turkey Gravy Through the Years: A Short Study of a Substance That Should Never Change (With Samples)<br />
<br />
16. How to Know When Your Hairstylist Dislikes You, Finds You Annoying and/or Really Wishes You Harm (With Helpful Coping Strategies for Each of These Disappointing Scenarios)<br />
<br />
17. Listening In On the Conversation When Your Stomach Has a Lot to Say: A Helpful Guide to Understanding What Those Growls And Grumbles Really Mean<br />
<br />
18. You and Your Water Softener: Examining Why It's Set for 2 a.m. Replenishment When It Bothers Everyone So Much<br />
<br />
19. Keeping Your Grandparents Busy: A Toddler's Guide to Terrifying and Tiring Those People Who Love You So Much<br />
<br />
20. The Therapeutics of the Burp: Time-Tested Strategies for Successful Gastric Release<br />
<br />
Input/advice (which I probably won't heed)/ and names of people who can help me (in any ways you think I need help) are all welcome.<br />
<br />
Take care, everyone.<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-88247224002541799592014-09-03T15:12:00.002-06:002014-09-03T16:37:04.959-06:00On Clouds and Doom and Lots of Fun Stuff Like ThatAfter exiting the mall today I noticed dark, horrible, oddly shaped clouds and I thought to myself that I should get home fastly which led to questioning myself about whether or not I had actually just used the word "fastly" and I thought that wow, there were no grammar police in my head, and then I thought that's weird because I kind of am the grammar police and then I questioned the value of correcting people's grammar and I spilled some coffee into the very small but tasteful gift I'd bought for someone and decided that wasn't really an issue because people expect this kind of thing from me and soon I noticed that the sun had come out somewhat or there was a strange glow coming from somewhere and it gave everything a look that suggested we'd reached the end of days and I thought to myself "That's too bad" and considered anything I'd been wanting to get done and I hoped I'd get time to drink the coffee I held in my hand because the first few sips had tasted good and I realized how selfish that seemed if the whole world was ending but acknowledged that there wasn't a lot more I could do for anybody else if we all only had about 20 minutes left and I headed over to a route home where there'd recently been some underground pipe work done and I hoped I would notice any holes before I fell in them but then I thought it didn't matter anyways with what was about to happen and I felt like I was being followed but then I realized it was probably just by doom and I was for sure not the only one being pursued by it at that time and this all really sucked because I had been hoping to get home in time to watch 30 Rock and hadn't foreseen any of this happening but probably nobody really had and I noticed that a decorative rock, which had likely been situated at a house for a very long time, looked like a vicious animal sitting in wait for me and it was probably normal at a time like this for everyday objects to take on the appearance of terrifying beasts and soon precipitation started and it seemed that it would turn to hail, probably really pointy hail, and I was aware of how we hadn't really had hail this summer and that's partly due to a cloud seeding procedure that insurance companies undertake and while it's nice not to lose property and plants to hail it also seems unnatural and maybe we shouldn't mess with Mother Nature and maybe she's getting back at us today just for things like the cloud seeding and all but it seems kind of mean to end the whole world simply because some insurance companies want to minimize hail damage claims but clearly it's way past the time to argue about something like that and the precipitation picked up a bit and I definitely wanted to be under the eaves to get my house key out of my purse and I got in the door, glad to see home again at least one more time, and savoured my coffee because, really, what else could I do?<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-14284504633163633772014-08-14T15:26:00.000-06:002014-08-14T16:31:31.436-06:00All That SludgeToday, for me, is a day about blockages. Hopefully, as well, it is a day about breaking through them. I really need to do that in the kitchen drain and my rabbit will feel a lot better if we can do that in his digestive system too.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it is a day, too, on which we can consider blockages that aren't physical. Personally, I need and want to break through the blockages, the walls that keep me from believing I can succeed in any way. I'm tired of being surrounded by these beliefs, conscious or not, that tell me I could never do that, I shouldn't try that, others may succeed at something but I never would. It doesn't matter where all this comes from - it has to go away. I need to take action to break through the heavy, thick, ugly, grey sludge that's in my mind. (On a side note, I don't know if any of those adjectives were necessary to describe sludge. Are they there to clarify that I'm not referring to sludge that's light, thin, pretty, and colourful? I suppose the extra information doesn't hurt.)<br />
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I wonder how many other people are wasting their talents, blocked from sharing them, blocked by their beliefs. It is a shame and a waste. The world needs everyone to offer that which they have to share. I wonder if I can play a role in helping others get unblocked too. Wow, that is something I would like to be able to do. Again, there, I question that I would be able.<br />
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I believe we have roles to play in the world. Sitting on my couch and feeling myself to be without power, connection, know-how is not mine. I hope. I can't provide instructions for breaking through sludge right now because I don't yet know how. I hope soon to be able to report on how I unclogged my life and got the flow going. At the very least I hope to have a successful kitchen drain story to share soon and a happy tale about my rabbit's recovery. There's a lot of sludge around here right now to get through.<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-64402432297151168912014-08-12T12:53:00.000-06:002014-08-12T12:53:16.255-06:00The Sad Little Boy at Summer CampI don't know why he's sad. I caught a glimpse of him as a counselor spoke with him, at the back of the room, away from the other campers. The counselor was young himself. Perhaps his youth would be an advantage as he tried to help this boy. He may well understand what it's like to be so little and so sad.<br />
<br />
There are so many reasons a boy like that could be sad. It's Monday - is this his first at camp? Is this his first day away from Mom? Or is another day of many this summer when he's been in that building, at a camp, trying to pretend he's having fun when he's not? Is he in trouble and not usually in trouble and feeling awful about that? Or is always in trouble and he knows that he should cry? No, I think this boy's sadness was real. Is he tired? That happens. Or is he afraid to go in the pool? That could happen. The world's still pretty new to this little guy; sometimes it's hard to be brave.<br />
<br />
We all face challenges - even big boys and girls. I wrote the first two paragraphs yesterday before I knew about Robin Williams. Such a funny, funny man felt so much pain. I hope that the little boy is feeling happier now. If only a camp counselor could take everyone aside who feels pain and really help them. If only.<br />
<br />
JAHD<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-55394337194736402832014-08-09T23:42:00.000-06:002014-08-10T00:06:58.832-06:00Some New Book Titles For Your ConsiderationOnce again, I have developed a list of potential book titles. Your input on any and all of them is very welcome. Any one of them could end up being a masterpiece. Or not.<br />
<br />
1. Occasional Tooth Flossing and the Treasures You Can Find<br />
<br />
2. Decorating With Bananas<br />
<br />
3. The Case for Hopping: An Insightful Compilation of Essays by Rabbits and Kangaroo Authors<br />
<br />
4. The Sunday Morning Traffic Helicopter: Addressing the Question "Why?"<br />
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5. Strategies for the Unusually-Toed (Volume 1): Finding the Right-Shaped Shoes<br />
<br />
6. A Squirrel's Guide to Summer: Relaxing while Planning for Your Busy Gathering Season<br />
<br />
7. The Avocado: Getting to Know It Better and Making It Your Friend<br />
<br />
8. You and Your Bad Mood: Exploiting Its Awesome Power for Personal and Professional Gain<br />
<br />
9. The Role of Pickles in Today's Society And a Look at the Years Ahead<br />
<br />
10. "How Was Clown College?" - Hilarious Things to Say When People Make Fun of Your Comedy Class<br />
<br />
11. Going Out for Breakfast: Towards An Understanding Of Why Eating Eggs in Public Brings Such Joy<br />
<br />
12. People and their Dustbuster Handheld Vacuums: A Stunning Photo Collection<br />
<br />
I will leave the list at that for now and should get working on title number five. I could really use some right-shaped shoes.<br />
<br />
Happy reading!<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-23612812891280542752014-08-08T13:10:00.001-06:002014-08-09T00:03:48.802-06:00Random Thoughts I'll Share on an August AfternoonWell, thoughts come to us. Here are some of my recent ones. Please feel free to comment upon and discuss them.<br />
<br />
1. Sun-dried tomato and chicken sausages are not an entirely delightful food. Even in the fun environment of a street festival, I did not enjoy or finish my hot dog. The bun was good but wasn't enough to win out over a disappointing sausage.I will note this for future reference. I suppose I just did.<br />
<br />
2. I wonder if anyone has ever considered that children might not like balloons. I saw several balloons fly up in the air today and I never heard a child crying or saw one standing with a look of utter devastation on his or her once happy young face. Maybe they just let go of them because they don't want them. And really, what excitement is there to holding onto a string? While this might be a crushing blow to the helium and helium tank industry (and balloon manufacturers but I hold out hope that they can adapt), perhaps it's time we stopped giving children balloons. It doesn't seem like they'd care.<br />
<br />
3. I've had a lot of turmoil finding a hairstylist. I like to think that it's not all my fault - especially when they suddenly leave the salon without telling me (although thankfully, so far at least, not mid-hair service) but I wonder. Is my hair particularly challenging or do they have an issue with my personality? I'm not skilled in small talk but do I do so badly that people flee or, as in one case, an appointment I thought I had made vanishes? More troubling though is the fact that I have now found a stylist who assures me she is not going anywhere. I believe her. The problem is that I don't like what she did to my hair. Yes, she is the one who will stay and whom I will try avoid seeing in places around the neighbourhood.<br />
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4. I struggle with whether or not my family should keep subscribing to our local newspaper. Some columnists I liked are gone from it, I learn what's happening in the city and world from other sources, and I find myself spending less and less time looking at this newspaper. I do enjoy my newspaper reading routines though and I might have to come up with some substitute procedures. I could eat my breakfast while looking at a newspaper sized piece of cardboard situated underneath my plate and then carry it into the living room to continue my viewing while I drank a morning cup of coffee. It is my hope that I would realize the futility of this practice and be able to let it go. I wonder how long that would take.<br />
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5. My decision to move my pajamas to a different drawer, in a different dresser was wrong. I am sorry to all those who were hurt by that decision (that may just be me). While changing some things around can be good, it seems that other things belong in certain locations and in those locations, they should stay. I am relieved that no longer will I have to look at the third drawer down in the taller dresser and think - "Oh, there's where my pajamas used to be. How I love to recall those glorious days." Instead, I will be able to look at that drawer and pull out pajamas once again. I look forward to the comfort and security that reality will bring.<br />
<br />
6. I think it may be time to befriend the avocado. (Further information and instructions to follow.)<br />
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7. At dinner, I found myself trying to use a fork, knife and spoon for our spaghetti and meatballs dinner. My reasoning was that I needed the spoon to help roll the spaghetti up onto the fork, I needed a knife to cut the meatballs and, while I doubt it requires explanation, I use a fork to eat. I was quite unfamiliar with this selection of cutlery pieces though and kept being confused by the spoon's inability to be a knife. It's amazing how something so simple can be very disorienting. We become very used to the ways in which we do things and we don't always attack a dinner with these 3 utensils. Perhaps we never should.<br />
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8. While in the grocery store today, I noticed a breakfast theme in one aisle and recalled hearing at one time that the store was to be classified by meals. Looking across the aisle, however, I saw boxed mashed potatoes and fake chicken gravy powder. To me, cereal seems like a more suitable choice for that spot. So, either some people begin their days in ways I had never considered or the store did not follow the meal classification idea closely. I hope for the latter. I'm not sure a world where people eat mashed potatoes slathered with gravy for breakfast would be a good place.<br />
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Happy Friday and I'm not judging anyone's breakfast choices (judge, judge). I am questioning the role of sundried tomato and chicken sausages at any time of day though. In my opinion, those just weren't good. Have fun!<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-48419193314538110612014-07-30T18:33:00.002-06:002014-07-30T21:19:30.584-06:00When You're Trying to Do What's RightI phoned the police the other day. It wasn't just that I was lonely and thought it might be nice to chat. Rather, I had seen some things that I found concerning and I thought they should know. That call went pretty well and I believe that the situation was going to be addressed.<br />
<br />
I know of other experiences when phoning the police has been more troubling and seemed somewhat futile. It's not that I question the police. I have a lot of respect for them and know they deal with many very troubling situations. I admire and appreciate them. It is their dispatch procedures that confuse me somewhat and make me question whether it's worthwhile to report things we see. Calls like the following one have soured me:<br />
<br />
Dispatcher: What is your emergency?<br />
<br />
Husband: There's a couple having a potentially violent fight in a bus shelter at 1st St. and 2nd St. (fictional address, only partially fictionalized telephone call)<br />
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Dispatcher: And?<br />
<br />
Husband: Well, that seems like a bad thing.<br />
<br />
Dispatcher: I guess. At what corner of the intersection is the shelter?<br />
<br />
Husband: Southeast.<br />
<br />
Dispatcher: What's the stop number for the bus at that shelter? Is there a bench housed within it?<br />
<br />
Husband: I really don't know. There's one bus shelter at that intersection.<br />
<br />
Dispatcher: Huh. Could you please describe the people in the bus shelter?<br />
<br />
Husband: The man was probably in his early twenties, had somewhat long dark hair, and was wearing a black jacket.<br />
<br />
Dispatcher: Could you please describe his hairstyle better? What do you mean by "somewhat long"? Had he had a haircut recently? Was there any facial hair? Did he have stubble?<br />
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Husband: I don't know about facial hair. Maybe some stubble. I guess his hair was shoulder length, a bit sloppy. Is that better?<br />
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Dispatcher: Marginally. And the woman?<br />
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Husband: Her hair was light brown and short. She was wearing a long blue coat.<br />
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Dispatcher: Was her hairstyle a pixie or perhaps a bob? Did it look like the light brown was her natural colour? Did she have highlights? Was the coat baby blue, navy, cerulean, perhaps indigo?<br />
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Husband: I can't answer any of those questions. I have absolutely no idea. There were only 2 people in the bus shelter, they were fighting and one was wearing some kind of blue coat.<br />
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Dispatcher: Sir, by this time, there could be a whole crowd of people in the bus shelter. We most certainly do not want to approach someone wearing a cerulean coat unnecessarily.<br />
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Husband: Wouldn't it have been better to send a car to the bus shelter at the start of the call?<br />
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Dispatcher: You're attitude has become rather combative. Now, were either of these people wearing or holding a hat, umbrella, portfolio or what appeared to be a musical instrument?<br />
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Husband: I don't think so.<br />
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Dispatcher: You don't sound certain.<br />
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Husband: OK, no. If I'd noticed those things I would have mentioned them earlier. <br />
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Dispatcher: I see. Sir, where are you located at this time?<br />
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Husband: I'm walking into the auto show.<br />
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Dispatcher: Yes. We thought so. We've been tracking you and will have officers waiting to attend.<br />
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Husband: But what did I do? I was trying to help...<br />
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Dispatcher: You've provided information to us which is helpful in no way. As well, your demeanor is problematic. Next time, please have all hairstyle and coat colour information handy before you make the call. The attending officers will go over this with you en route to arrest processing.<br />
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Husband: I guess I'm not going to the auto show.<br />
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Dispatcher: All of this could have been avoided if you hadn't called.<br />
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Husband: I'll know next time.<br />
<br />
<br />
While I've exaggerated, one call my husband made was disappointingly similar to this one. I don't know why all the detail was needed. He'd call the police again in a similar situation but he might study more first and take better notes. He did get to go to the auto show.<br />
<br />
I don't know what happened to those people in the bus shelter. Maybe that call made a difference. I am hopeful that sometimes we can.<br />
<br />
JAHDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-59909715861527840072014-06-09T19:31:00.003-06:002014-06-09T21:08:59.007-06:00On Trying to Make the Most of the Beautiful Summer Season or, as some would say, Shopping for a ChairMy family members and I spent some time this past weekend looking for an object that would meet my unique outdoor seating needs (or, as they would probably say, shopping for a chair). It was a somewhat disheartening experience. I have a new chair but I don't know about my needs being met. Perhaps they really are unique in the outdoor furniture world. I don't know.<br />
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To me, outdoor furniture often requires a rigidity in sitting that I do not enjoy. On couches and chairs inside the house, I can curl up or stretch out in a variety of configurations. I am not entirely comfortable in any chair that requires me to sit, facing forward, with both feet on the floor. Many a summer has gone by with me spending very little time outside. Before I know it. it's fall and I'm saying "Oh dear, another summer has gone by and I've stayed inside for so much of it because of the disparity in comfort between the indoor and outdoor furniture." It's sad to say that every year and hard to remember some of the words so I would like, this year, to finally acquire something comfortable.<br />
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During our quest to find the object, we saw anti-gravity chairs at the front of one store. I had been wondering about them but, as I said to my family, I've never been against gravity. It's such a reliable force and, unless I'm falling, I don't have a problem with it. I certainly don't see a need to defy it as I sit outside writing or reading a book.<br />
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As we looked in that same store, I considered other options in chairs and chaise lounges. None of them allowed for a lot of flexibility in sitting position. There are outdoor couches too but they come as part of whole sets and the funds are not really there to buy a complete garden furniture set. I'm not sure that they would be really comfortable anyways.<br />
<br />
On our way out of the store we saw more anti-gravity chairs. I suppose I hadn't expressed my pro-gravity thoughts very well and the other members of my family, never fully understanding my viewpoints perhaps, seemed eager for me to just buy something. I gave in and we purchased an attractive red gravity-defying chair.<br />
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I looked forward to trying out the new chair out but when I did, I wasn't thrilled with the experience. The chair does recline and there's not a requirement to sit in a strictly conventional position but there's also not a lot of room to curl up and there's much about the shape this chair assumes that brings to mind a trip to the dentist. Those aren't always a lot of fun.<br />
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I hope I spend more time outside this summer, in this chair or not. They do go by quickly and it's a shame when we let ourselves miss out on any of life's pleasures. There may be a need for more comfortable outdoor seating in the world but there is a beautiful world out there to enjoy regardless. I really don't want to have to repeat that rueful and overly wordy sentence again this year and I hope no one else does either. Enjoy! That's far fewer words and a much better sentiment. I hope you do lots of enjoying this summer.<br />
<br />
JAHD<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881097987614762446.post-43338393225901349842014-06-08T20:09:00.004-06:002014-06-08T20:14:13.153-06:00Losing Your ShoeDon't you hate it when you're looking for your shoes and you can only find one and you find that really weird because you'd come home within the past hour and you really think you would have been wearing two shoes and if you weren't wearing two shoes when you were out, wouldn't you have have noticed or wouldn't somebody have said something or at least stared and is that why you had foot discomfort when you were out, because one foot was dragging along the concrete while the other one was happily protected by a shoe even if it was only a flip flop and man, why do these things keep happening to you, and how are you ever going to tell your husband and son that you lost your shoe when you were out because they seem to think you're kind of weird already based on a lot of things you do and this is not going to help your case any and exactly how does one lose a shoe when they go out to dinner and will you have to phone the restaurant you were in and ask if there's a grown-up size flip flop in the lost and found and you just know that if it's there they'll be aware of it because single grown-up size shoes probably don't end up in the lost and found often and if they have it, the question arises of who's going into the restaurant to get it because you certainly don't want to and maybe you could send your husband and he wouldn't have to disclose his relationship to you but rather just say he was there to pick up the shoe and he might be okay with that although he might not because he's probably going to be of the opinion that you were the one who lost the shoe and you should be the one who goes in to retrieve it and you acknowledge that this is a good point but you'd still be embarrassed to go into the restaurant and you like the restaurant and want to be able to go back to it but then, thank goodness, you find your other shoe?<br />
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Me too.</div>
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JAHD</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0