Saturday, January 29, 2011

Propensity

Such a beautiful word. Feels good as it r-r-o-o-o-l-l-s-s off your tongue.

Just the sound of it causes you to lift your nose a bit higher while e-nun-ci-a-ting every syllable with your finest faux aristocratic British accent.

Now say it. Outloud. Pro-pen-si-ty.

Did you stick your chin up just a tad? Good. Now...raise one eyebrow ever so slightly (no, both simply will not do -- you want to look slightly superior, not surprised) as you dispense this fine piece of vocabulary while sharing an observation, dare I use the word 'judgement' (oops, I meant 'personal opinion'...) about someone you know. For instance: "Well! His propensity for alcohol certainly hasn't helped his weight problem any." OR "Without question you know her cholesterol would drop if she didn't indulge her propensity for chocolate so much!" (Hey! I heard that! Were you talking about me??)

Bravo! You did a fine job. Now practice the subtleties of the eyebrow thing. OH! And perhaps add a bit of the rolling of the eyes. Yes! That's it. By Jove, now you've got it!

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Dust ~ UGH!

This morning found me dusting....yes, DUSTING....the bathtub. Never thought I'd be wiping down that porcelain fixture. We all use the shower these days. No little ones around who need it. With time comes change.

Dust. Who makes this stuff?? I WANT A NAME!!

Why does this fine, gray fuzz even exist? So we can sneeze? Be frustrated (there's lots of other things that fit that bill, thank you)? Does it support the vacuum cleaner or furniture polish or furnace pipe cleaning industries? An alien's master plan to crush our spirits and rule the universe?

Well if you see that alien or the Dust Fairy or whomever is responsible before I do, tell them to stop it. And I mean RIGHT NOW !!

Good to know when little people do appear again under this roof they won't have to wait for their bubble bath. No, sirree! Not in this house. Huh-uh.

Geez.....wiping off dust. Who'd have thunk it?

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Thank You Notes

Sending hand-written missives with the specific motive of expressing appreciation for receiving a gift was a rule strictly adhered to by my parents. No excuses, no whining, no reason was ever acceptable in veering from that unquestionable, permanent, carved-in-stone social grace. One received thus one wrote.

In this day and age of electronic communication, and though a 'dinosaur' I well may be, I find myself still a happy proponent of our postal system. And to that end I still send hand-written letters and thank you notes. Plan to until the day I die. Even when my handwriting is absolutely atrocious and totally illegible. Even when no one could ever possibly read or interpret the scribble, I'll forever share my heartfelt appreciation via pen, paper and the post.

This household received a thank you from a relative about a week ago. Thanking us for the two holiday presents we sent, this cousin admonished me by asking a question smack dab in the middle of her note: "J, have you stopped writing letters? I miss your newsy notes..." The answer to her inquiry, No, I haven't. I obviously let other tasks in the last few months snare more attention than I should have, leaving no time for my usual (and obviously expected) 'newsy notes'.

When I read her message the first time I was slightly taken aback. But upon further contemplation I accepted her words as a compliment. How nice to know that taking the time to personally craft something is missed when you don't!

So write a letter....or two. And when you receive one in return you'll be the one who gets to sip a cup of hot tea while sharing a peek into the life and times of someone special to you.

Atrocious handwriting or not.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

My Closet

Sliding open the wooden closet door open yesterday morning, I stood looking at my rainbow of clothes. Pondering. Waiting for inspiration....a spark....a nudge. Anything, please!

I got nothin'. It's not that I don't like my clothes. I do. But there wasn't a jacket or a sweater or a skirt or slacks that grabbed my attention right off the bat or jumped out at me shouting, "Here I am!! Put me on!".

How I wish that would happen. Definitely a time saver if it did. But, no, I stood there hemming-and-hawing over what to choose, considering what would feel 'good', did a certain color or fabric appeal to me more, did I need something warmer or cooler, blah, blah, blah..... You totally understand the drill.

With my hands in my housecoat pockets, I mentally performed some calculating: 40% of my inventory I LOVE, LIKE 40%, 10% would receive a TOLERATE rating and 5% I keep out of GUILT (received as a gift/some memory attached to it/whatever).

So after spending WAY too much time, I finally grabbed an outfit, scrambled for accessories, and left in a rush to get to work.

You know I could help myself by performing these tasks the night before. Perhaps I might be in a 'choosier' state of mind. Probably simpler. Easier. There wouldn't be a need to HURRY UP and get it done.

WHAT??! Mess with tradition? With my marvelous routine? Especially when it seems to be working so well for me just the way it is!