Wealth and Waste

I have always told my daughters how rich we are in the ways that really count. We have one another. We have family who loves and holds us up when we need. However, after visiting the Dominican Republic and driving through the countryside, I am ashamed of my own gluttony and wastefulness.

Here I was on the way from a beautiful, all-inclusive resort to a zipline adventure, something totally extravagant, and I was passing homes with outhouses. I call them homes, but others might call them shacks. Our chicken coop is probably a little nicer than a few of these homes.

When I first saw some of the living conditions, I wanted to cry for them. How could they live like that? But the real question is...how could I live like that?

They are not shacks; they are homes. I do not presume to think that the families who live there are in anyway unhappy or unsatisfied with what they have.

I saw children in their school uniforms. I saw churches. I saw people congregating. I saw families together.

Just like here, there are some who are better off than others. Just like here, they make choices in how they live, and they are happy or sad.

I also saw gas stations, which consisted of gallon jugs filled with gas, sitting on a makeshift table. This works for them. However, how many times have I wished for a full-service station? What a luxury that would be.

I saw children chasing the bus to get the quarters that someone generously threw. I wish that I had thought to bring money for the children. What a treat for any small child anywhere! Anywhere? Maybe not here. How many times have I seen people walk by a coin on the sidewalk? Me...I pick it up if I see it. But, there are many who wouldn't bother. How many times have I wasted a quarter on some silly, stupid, extravagant thing though? Isn't that the same thing? Wasting something and just throwing it away?

I saw simplicity there. I surround myself with things here. To somehow complete me? To give me comfort? To make life easier? These things are silly and stupid. I am ashamed of myself.

I feel lost. I thought I knew myself. I thought I was a good person.

I am a wasteful, silly, spoiled girl.

La-Z-Boy sucks!

I sent this to La-Z-Boy today. They suck...

I bought a Demi Sofa on 12/12/08, and it was delivered on 02/06/09. It is already broken! My 10-year-old daughter sat on it, and I heard a huge crack and something is sticking out the bottom of the sofa. I find it absolutely reprehensible that your furniture does not last even a month! I am appalled. No wonder your stores are closing if this is the the type of quality you deliver. Never again will I buy from your company, and I will definitely share this information with EVERYONE that I know. The sales rep assured me that this sofa would be sturdy; that was a lie. And whomever I talked to at the Customer Service Center was rude. I don't care how much the service fee is, even it's just a $1 fee, which I find doubtful. I cannot believe that I paid $800+ for this couch and now I have to pay anything again for it. Back to Ikea for me.

Darn...I'm a horse

I occasionally read horoscope stuff for fun. I think that most horoscopes can apply to anyone at most anytime. However, what does the Chinese horoscope have against me this year?

Summary of the Yahoo link:
http://shine.yahoo.com/astrology/chinese/horse/yearly-overview/

The year - 4 so-so months and 8 bad months

Career - work even harder for no results???

Relationships - Be other-centered. The one time I am actually thinking about doing something for myself, and this stupid article tells me I am selfish. And "The single Horse may have trouble this year finding a meaningful, long lasting relationship." This year? Really? As opposed to every other year of my life?

Health - Bad due to stress. Well, at least that's the same as always. More sleep needed? Well, let's try to work that in. Sure.

Wealth - I'll be able to save some money this year, if I don't spend any. Great! Great advice. Very wise.

In summary, since I'll have no one to do anything with outside of work and all I'll be doing at home is sleeping, I'll have an extra dime next year.

Jeez, what does the Ox have against the Horse?

Crazy like a circus?

You were in my dream.

I started out at a circus. I lost something and was searching for it. People were helping me look. I found it, and then I walked a long way. The circus and the walk were difficult, but I laughed a lot too. I ended up in with a bunch of people in this room. Everyone was talking and having a great time. I think it must have been a party. I can't remember everyone who was there, but you were there and so was your Dad. Questions were asked and answered. I don't remember what your Dad said, but I remember the way he said it. He was happy and healthy and sounded and looked so young and confident.

I'm sure that I dreamed this, because we connected this week and talked about our Dads and their birthdays.

Maybe it's just me that needed to dream this message, but I thought it couldn't hurt to share it with you. Maybe your Dad was trying to tell you something through my dream? Or maybe I just wanted to reach out and make sure you are okay?

Even though life is sometimes crazy and difficult, it is a wonderful thing. Your Dad was there in my dream. I hope you know that I am here for you.

He's just not that into me - not a book or a movie, but a life

What if you could take the best of the most influential guys from your past, stir it up, and make a new man? An Iron Man. A Batman? A Superman! No...a Real Man! He's a compilation of at least 4 guys who have impacted you. Are you going to screw it up like you did before? Will he also vanish, vaporize, vamoose?

A boy from high school: a casual friendship that developed over time. Comfortable, safe, chaste. I was myself. We had classes together, but he was older, wiser, calmer. Funny, he made me laugh. When he wanted to move beyond friendship into a relationship, I didn't want to screw up the great friendship. I wasn't ready for more. I was scared. Time? Wait? He got mad and left.

A boy from college: an instantaneous feeling in my heart that warmed me. The moment I saw him walking toward me across Trinity Gardens, I knew that I would marry him. (Okay, you know who this one is, but I am keeping with the theme of anonymity.) My heart skipped a beat. We flirted. Funny, he made me laugh. We became friends and confidantes and dependent upon one another...secure in a future, in forever. An assumption. He lost respect for himself, and I lost respect for him when he stopped believing that I believed in him. He went to hell and left.

A man from work: unavailable at first, disinterested, but over time crush-worthy from afar. Funny, he made me laugh. Respect, his need for understanding and my compassionate ear and sage advice delivered. I should have been more wary, but we tried more for just about a minute. I wasn't ready. I was confused. He got hurt and left.

Another one from work: Exciting, spontaneous, energetic, hard working. Funny, he made me laugh. Knew me better than I knew myself. Could diffuse my anger at just the right time. Could talk me off the proverbial cliff. And then pushed me right over the edge. Too damaged and dysfunctional. He got cocky and left.

Some have wanted to come back. I thought about it. I still think about what might have...moving on. What if I could stir them all up in a pot, remove or revise the damaged parts, put all the good stuff together? I would have:

• someone with whom I could be myself - loud or quiet, glad, sad, mad, or smad.
• someone who made my heart beat faster the moment that I saw him and who would keep it beating that way - in a tie, without a tie, or halfway untied. (That went somewhere I hadn't planned.) A faster beat with just a look, a glance.
  
• someone who earned my respect and likewise respected me. If he makes a mistake, he says sorry, and eh, all is forgiven. No cover ups, no tangled webs.
  
• someone who could balance outrageous antics with tender feelings. Fun, yet snuggly.
  

What would happen if I met that guy? That man with the best attributes/essence of my past men? Will he pull a Casper and ghost away?

If I could add two more essential ingredients, they would be loyalty and commitment. (That narrows the field down to Dogs. Dogs don't leave unless they die, and you can't really hold that against them.) Let's dream though, and get back to the man...If such a man existed, he just wouldn't be that into me.

Would he? What if I was ready? What if I were scared, but he talked me through it? What if it were right and fun? He got me and stayed?

Crying for a neighbor

Dale E. Cooley, 80, of Mason, died Nov. 14, 2008. He was born June 24, 1928 in Charlotte. Surviving are his wife of 53 years, Virginia, a son Warren, and other family members. I never knew that Dale worked at A & P for 42 years and served two years in the U.S. Army, one year of which was spent on the Korean Peninsula.

What I knew...is remembered by what his wife wrote to me, received in today's mail:

We think of the happy times - and all the beautiful flowers Dale used to enjoy growing. He was pleased to have Hannah come to the edge of the yard and tell him hi, and she always had a mini-chat. One time, she told Dale that she was "sixteen," and now Hannah is so grown up and has a nice young sister...

Every evening when Hannah and I pulled into our driveway, I glanced over to see Dale puttering in his garden. He really did grow pretty flowers, but even better he grew a good neighbor. I can see my 3-year-old Hannah bounce over to the fence to make curious, but polite conversation. He would explain about his garden, carving lessons out of nature.

Dale and Virginia from their observant posts knew that I was a practically single Mother and then a truly single one. They never judged or intruded, but they made me feel safe by their presence across the narrow drive and a split rail fence.

We were tolerant neighbors. We knew inherently that the others were doing the best that they could to be considerate. Dale "taught" us about the messy berry tree at the end of our driveway in a way that suggested it might be good to get rid of it, which we did. The way that he guided us is a lost art form in neighborhoods full of young up and comers. Today's neighbors would complain about the tree and take legal action.

Dale even liked my dog. He really did, and Tyler the dog liked him. (That says a lot about a man, not just that a dog liked him, but this dog in particular who at times sided with his mistress and not his master.) Dale would reach down over the fence and pet Tyler while he would continue his chat with Hannah. Not once did Tyler snap at him.

If I close my eyes, I can see Dale over that backyard fence lined with chicken wire to keep the critters out, leaning on his rake, wiping his brow with a handkerchief pulled from his pocket, with his wheel barrow in front of him, smiling as Hannah bounds over for her evening greeting.

When I opened Virginia's letter, I cried.

Taming of the Shrew-Mother

Right this second, I am listening to my 14-year-old daughter on the phone. With. A. Boy.

She's calm, cool, collected. She's sweet, yet sincere. She didn't break out in hives and jump up and down, giddy with terrified excitement.

She talked to this boy for more than 5 minutes...maybe even 10 whole minutes! From whom did she learn this talking-to-a-boy skill? Certainly not me. I can't think of things to say for longer than a minute or two. Men shrink away from conversations with me. I'm elephant-headed, spiritual and religious, and a Mom. Most men are liberal, naturalist/spiritualist, hoochy-boys. What would we say to one another?

Of course, before the boy called my daughter, she was trying to figure out what she would say to him when he did call her back. They've been talking for a couple of weeks now. And they have a movie-thing planned for a near-future Friday.

Should I just let this Lucentio-boy wisk away my Bianca-daughter? How do I stand idly by? Should I get her to a nunnery? Should I allow this movie-going? Should I drive her and her friend? Should I let another Mother drive them and show up at the same theater and sit behind them?

What do I do if she sees this boy for a long time? And what will I do when it doesn't work out? Forget about that baby manual that comes out at birth. Where, oh where, is the adolescent enchiridion, the minor manual, or even a juvenile journal? Should I lock her in the hay mow? Perhaps, I should, at least until my Petruchio shows up!