Tombstones

My husband and I were giggling the other night over what we would carve on our tombstones. I have been to many a cemetery. Civil War battlefields, National Cemeteries, family plots. I have read lots and lots of stones and lots and lots of memorials. So I have a collection of mental references for styles and shapes and messages left for eternity.

I always wanted to build a mausolium. How cool would that be? Like the above ground New Orleans grave sites. Personal statements. My other half wasn't interested in that concept. Rats! So now I have switched my focus to the wording I want to leave behind.

"I told you I wasn't feeling well" was what the husband of a coworker jokingly determined he wanted. "Waiting...." was the only word on a stone for a lady (and I am in awe of her message -- every wish, every emotion, total faith all in those seven letters).

Now me?? With my sense of humor? "What happened??!?" would appeal. Or "What are you looking at?". "Everything is a choice" would fit with my philosophy of life. How about "Now I get to eat all the chocolate I want...and you can't!!"

Think about your legacy in stone. I'm still contemplating the possibilities. My poor husband. If my path is to follow his....then he's got no chance, does he?

Casual = Casualty

I looked aghast at the television set Monday night when President Obama closed his press conference with "Thanks, you guys" and left the podium. I looked at my husband and said, "Did I just hear him correctly? Did he actually say "you guys??" "You heard what I heard" he responded.

I am sorry. Call me a fuddy-duddy. I DO NOT care. But for the President of the United States to end a nationally televised gathering in the East Room with that kind of salutation was pathetic. I understand that he and his wife have decided to be "transparent" and "down to earth" but really...... Don't insult my intelligence. And don't act like your my buddy on the bowling team, either.

Whether you are a clerk in a store, the gentleman who collects the garbage, the neighborhood paper boy or a corporate executive. Manners are manners. Expectations are allowed to be expectations. Break the culture down and you end up with broken "culture". Right? (Hey!!Maybe I should print some bumper stickers with that message!!)

So keep getting out the good china and teach your children how to use it. (I have had several conversations about a table set with sterling flatware. Best advice? "Always work from the outside in" AND subtly watch those seated around you for cues as well.) Make your family dress up for special occasions. Take them to nice restaurants so everyone can practice what they have learned. Good manners are always recognized and appreciated no matter where you are on the planet, no matter who you are with, no matter the age range in the people who surround you. Potential employers, customers, professors, neighbors ~~ALL are impressed with beautifully executed habits.

Oh! The next time a server at your favorite eating establishment welcomes you and your girlfriend with "How are you guys today?" kindly look at them with a beautiful smile and quietly, yet politely, point out that you are indeed two very lovely ladies. Their face will reflect their surprise and they will quickly agree with you. And I bet you this subtle lesson will remain with them when they wait on ladies in the future. How do I know this?? Hmmmmmm. Let's just say I speak from personal experience.......

Scratchy Clothes Tags

Pet Peeve. Pet Peeve. Pet Peeve.

Ok, now that I have that gush out of my system let's calm down and have a little chat. In the good old days there was a label sewn on the neck or at the waistband of a new garment which listed the size and fabric content on the front and laundry instructions on the back. Simple. Easy.

AND soft.

But now...NOW...these have become offensive, rough and crudely finished instruments of pure torture. These are seemingly hazardous to your health as well as distracting to the point of self-mutilation (trying to reach behind your neck to cut the offender out!!?#*!).

Perhaps this part of some quiet, deep, dark and evil scheme to take over the world.

It's working.

You Can Only Laugh

We've all been there. You just walked into the restroom after a very important corporate meeting attended by ALL the higher-ups you want/have been trying to impress. You go to the sink and start to wash your hands. You look up into the mirror after applying soap and turning on the water. You check your hair, fac.....NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! =WAIT= Maybe it's the lights. You close your eyes and hang your head trying to wrap your head around the ice cold embarrassment currently rushing through your veins. Bravely you slowly gather your courage and allow your chin to rise, daring you to look again, squinting with dubious hope at your reflection that what you thought you saw really isn't there.

Yep....that confirms it. So much for your upwardly mobile path to success in this company. The piece of spinach from the salad you grabbed before that planning session is still firmly implanted between two teeth in all it's glory. Hard to miss that rich, vibrant green blob which contrasts so beautifully against your brilliant pearly whites. Again, hope springs eternal!! Maybe no one saw it. Really. Just maybe. So you pretend to talk watching your lips mask your teeth at different angles as you recreate the words you spoke at the conference table to confirm your hypothesis. Tilting your head a little this way, a little that. A soft giggle. Sweet smile. Turn your head to the right. To the left.

That totally clarifies any gray area you had. You're toast. No way around it. You are now --this VERY instant -- water cooler fodder. You calmly accept your fate and you begin to plan how to arrange all of your apartment furniture here in this lovely restroom as you plan NEVER to leave these four walls ever ever again.

Realizing you can't realistically spend the next four hours in the Ladies Room without raising some sort of alarm among your co-workers you harden your resolve to leave your sanctuary of safety. Lifting your head, straightening your spine, squaring your shoulders, you turn and re-enter the hall heading toward your cubicle. As you turn the corner you abruptly come face to face with the VP who is not only the key to that aforementioned upward mobility....but he is so darned cute AND single AND the subject of a nighttime dream or two. As he slows his pace to pass you, he slightly lowers his head to quietly whisper, "Don't worry. I'm impressed you eat spinach. And by the way you look very nice in green."

Wow!! Did he just ask me out???!? Obviously not but when life gives you lemons..... or a big unnoticed food spot on your blouse or a wide open zipper in your slacks or that pervervbial piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe..... always remember to make lemonaide!!!!!

Patience -- The Most Important and Humbling of Lessons

Sit down in front of a PC and ~CLICK~ you have just order a new outfit, vacation or a car even. Super simple, don't even have to get dressed, no cash needed, no human contact necessary.

Then enter your child home from college on break. The bathroom that the two of you share becomes an instant war zone. There are toothpaste globs hardening beside fallen out hair in the sink. The counter has a few cut-off nails sprinkled on top where the clippers still reside spread open wide and the remnants of shaving cream foam streak across the Formica. The door to the medicine cabinent is standing half-way open. You peek inside. The Q-Tips now tumble haphazardly out of the box....and the additional toothbrush stands askew against the back wall having been tossed inside.

Patience. Patience. Patience. You silently chant this one word over and over and over as you claim this mantra to keep your sanity intact.

Now consider the new cashier at your favorite grocery store. Nervous to start with. Beginning on a Saturday morning. Imagine all the faces staring at this person. And one of them is yours.
Add to this equation the woman with 42 coupons. The man who had a HUGE load in his cart who left his wallet at home which he discovers after emptying all of the contents onto the checkout belt. The screaming two-year old sitting in the cart's seat directly in front of you who happens to be the young mother's first child. Of course she is embarrassed and frustrated, trying to empty her purchases onto the belt while coping with this child all at once. Oh! And let's just add that the child starts to take off her coat and shoes and socks and throw them off....

Patience. Patience. Patience. We all need it. We all deserve it. We need to teach it. We need to appreciate it. An invisible gift. Pass it on...........

Puppy Paws

I am intrigued by the bottom of puppy feet.

The little tufts of soft fur that surround the pads.

The life print that is left in soft dirt as they scamper to chase those darn robins off their grassy domain.

The way they st-ret-ch their toes apart when you gently massage their little feet.

The unwavering trust spoken through their big brown eyes when they let you trim their nails....then fall asleep in your arms after that exhausting chore.

How they are born with proportionately big feet that they eventually grow into after you have giggled at their struggles for balance and grace.

The way they stretch their front paws out while tucking the rear legs in when settling down onto the soft carpet.

Treasured memories of precious moments.

Deja Vu...or Reincarnation...or What?

I do not believe in reincarnation. I am one of these people who rolls their eyes when Shirley McLain espouses her, let's just say, "cosmic" view of life. I do embrace the belief we all get one shot at this chance on the planet to fulfull the tasks and purpose given us.

So what do you call the feeling when you walk into a restored historic house and feel completely at home? Or walk along a street in a town you have never been to before and expect to see someone you've known? Or read a biography and clearly see in your mind the events being described as if you were there? The result of painstaking restoration or brilliant wordsmithing by an author?

My personal experiences, whether by actual presence or absorbed through reading, seem to be connected to three historical periods: Ancient Eygpt, England/Scotland between 1100-1600, and our Civil War era. It astonishes me how my focus sharpens and my emphathy heightens when I am exposed to the situations, archeology and lives vitally captured therein. I can't explain it logically. And it's not scary at all. More like, "Oh...I fit in here!" It is as if I have slipped through an invisible veil and I am instantly connected to a shared intellect that plugs me into a "place" where I can feel as if I belong or at least I can understand the involved lives and circumstances more deeply.

This may seem a bit kooky (a "bit"??) to some of you. I'm a very grounded person as you are well aware. All I know is that on more than one occasion I have realized I have been affected on a deeper level than beyond just surface exposure. I feel at home, comfortable, knowledgeable. The latent tensions, rivalries, intrigues, laughter, emotions of the site come to life in my head. Maybe a bit unsettling the first time it happens. Or the second. Like fingers snapping in front of your eyes your attention is jolted and the lightbulb comes on and you become aware of this added dimention. Not a weird sort of cerebral plane. More like icing a cake with extra-thick chocolate frosting. These additions increase the richness of each of our life-experience tapestries.

Think about it. After all of these thousands of years Heaven is an extremely busy place filled with a whole lot of fascinating folks. Perhaps we are given these experiences to facilitate a pressure-cooker effect. By passing down emotions and situations to us we can eleviate some of the incredible lively, bubbly collective history generated by our predecessors. And for those of you who do embrace the reincarnation viewpoint I'd have to admit this is argumentatively another venue for recycling!