Mothers and Sons

It's not like having a daughter, you know. Guys don't want to go shopping or 'do lunch'. (Well, I take that back. Yes, they do because it's free. And it's food. The perfect combo for a male.)

They don't call everyday just to chat. Or just because. There's usually a reason when they do. Like they need money. Or permission to go on Spring break -- which takes us back to the money thing.

They aren't the ideal partner to gossip with. They put up a bored facade like they don't condone gossip. "Whatever" or "Who cares?" is a common response. But I've never seen one get up and leave when a particularly juicy tidbit is shared among friends. Hmmm. Have you?

The latest hair styles or new make-up techniques or what's hot in fashion accessories for the season are not topics they appreciate spending their time on either. Turns out getting a new pair of jeans that are cut just right or ordering this year's latest fleece outerwear jacket (I'm speaking from experience on this subject -an internet purchase from England with some Christmas money. Really??! England?? "My roommate has one.") is important. And acceptable.

But when he gives me a beautiful smile as he turns and bends down to wrap his arms around me in one big warm and wonderful hug, my heart rejoices and everything is ok. Balance restored. Small irritations erased. Head-frustrations disappear.

Oh, all right. ALL RIGHT. I confess. I'm sure glad I have one. (And he's just darned lucky to have me, too! HA!)

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!

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?

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.

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!

Storming the Gates of Heaven

A good friend of mine used this expression last week in regards to the barrage of prayers she's been sending to the Lord. How descriptive those five words are! Sincere. Focused. Energized. Determined. BOLD.

I've been sending my own onslaught over the last three months. Asking for guidance. Asking for wisdom. Asking for blessings. Asking for patience. (That last one being the hardest. Yes, definitely, the hardest.)

Keep this dynamic phrase in mind. Grab on to it with both hands. Incorporate it into your daily life. Always remain positive. Never give in to doubt. Keep your resolve strong and the requests flowing.

Simply Believe. For if you do your confidence will not fail and your faith will blossom tenfold.

Expiration Dates

I went through our medicine cabinet checking expiration dates weeding out the old stuff. I do this periodically. Do you? There's the prerequisite Tylenol and Advil consistently available but I don't buy a lot of over-the-counter varieties until specific types are needed -- cough medicine, cough drops and extra-strength sinus pills for colds.....or antihistimines for fall/spring allergy seasons. That kind of thing. So as a result I only had to pitch two items.

As I was reading labels I started to think about other areas in my life that have encountered finite 'life spans', gone from vibrant and vital to colorless with no pulse. A few friendships came to mind. Those that died were mostly toxic and their death a blessing for my life. A couple of personal dreams faded out over the years. I don't give up easily so those were probably the hardest to let go. Store coupons (bet you didn't see this one coming!!). The ones I really wanted to take advantage of and the dates came and went...UGH. Food. You think you'll use that soup or that package of Stove Top Stuffing with no problem but it never quite sounds good enough when you're whipping up dinner so it continues to sit on the pantry shelf. Gift certificates. Don't you hate that when it happens?!#*! Especially when the object of the free offer is a wonderful restaurant or store, offering some of your favorite things.

I guess expiration dates have different meanings depending on the context. They are good when their information protects the health of your family, sad when you have to realize there's no hope in certain situations, and irritating when something is misplaced or forgotten.

Lives, relationships, goals that are colorful and important and interesting and challenging, that bring laughter and learning and uniqueness and depth never lose their flavor or go out-of-date whether you interact with those elements daily or hardly ever. Doesn't matter. Those extra-special threads that run through your life's tapestry exclusively depicting your story will never become useless. Expendable. The truly important will never fade. And that kind of insurance is the very best kind, don't you agree?