To Age With Grace

She looked in the mirror and saw the reflection of an older woman. She rubbed her eyes to clear them out but the old woman still stared back at her. Why did she stare into that distressed mirror?  Wait, was that a tear rolling down one cheek, seeping out of her right eye ever so slightly?

The years had melted together to form a book of life. The ups and down, tragedies and experiences unique to her were reflected on some unwritten pages. And yet, tomorrow would come with more stories to write. Another day would bring her one day closer to another hallmark notch in her life, as the ending part played out.

She grabbed a tissue and dabbed the tear. As it soaked into the tissue, her head bowed, she recalled her life’s special moments. She lifted her head to gaze at her image one more time and see if she looked any different.

This time she saw some laugh lines. This time she saw some wrinkles from worry about her children. This time she saw a sparkle from the love in her life. She also saw an uplifted head showing the confidence borne of a full life and the pride over the accomplishments of her husband, children and friends. This time she smiled. She was no younger but she was indeed wiser.

Homemade Christmas Tree

Crafty was not on my genes. Science and math was, at one time. So I am far from talented in arts and   Surrounded in a community with women who can do practically anything with anything, not limited to but including napkins and toilet paper rolls to make them turn into beautiful crafts, I am the misfit. My gift is speaking and writing, which doesn’t fit well in a crafty circle thus I do not attend those kinds of meetings and gatherings!

crafts but have always been an “appreciator” of the arts, of all kinds, including crafting!

I am reminded often of my marketing background when I see women wanting to sell their creations thinking of all the possibilities for branding identity. And in response to “You too could be a crafter” my response is simply “Who would buy your wares then?”  The world needs all types; I accept that, my fact, Ms. Non-Crafter.

Given all that, imagine my surprise when I signed up for a class on making a Christmas tree out of mesh.  I wanted one, saw none for sale and figured the only way I was going to get one was to make one. Devious me enlisted one of the talented friends of mine to take the class with me realizing if mine starting looking like a disaster, which was sure to happen, she would come in to save the day, in this case, the tree!

The day before and the day of the class I had second thoughts. How willing was I to embarrass myself?  The last class I had attended my item turned into, let’s just say not too good but salvageable! My friend pumped me up and told me to keep the faith.

Christmas is a special time of the year indeed.  Working on my Christmas tree that day, things just seemed to fall in place as I kept my sense of humor intact. Having a great teacher on hand helped and someone by me making their own tree encouraging me was key but I did it on my own.  Miracles happen and I took my half-finished creation home to finish.

Still wondering if I could complete this on my own which entailed creating and putting bows on and anything else to create the look I wanted, I set to work. First I had mesh to make fill in butterflies with to cover any holes. Next, I visited Hobby Lobby to find bulbs. I went out on a limb and picked ones different than plain silver ones finding a color that complimented the ribbon even better! I decided on a tree topper instead of having mesh bows lining the top of the tree also. I came home, bags in hand, and set to work. I did not follow instructions for where to put things going off a feel more than anything to complete the project.

Presto, done and I love it! If anyone else had created this, I would say it was beautiful. Since it was

me, I have to say it was a Christmas miracle, this early in the season! I will still leave the crafting to the crafty but learned when we put aside our fears during the holiday season, Christmas miracles ring true!

Leaking the Truth

With a recent water leak under our home that hit the bedroom floor causing damage to the floorboards underneath, life has been out of sorts. We are displaced, living out of a guest bedroom temporarily.  Imagine two single beds in a smaller room with a chest of drawers, a large dog cage between the beds, a desk and a nightstand.  You probably guessed correctly there is scarcely any floor space left! All of this is the new norm until reparations are complete.  It is only when things are in an upheaval that we truly realize that none of the stuff we are surrounded with matters all that much. 

Suddenly, we are downsizing what we are wearing based on which drawer we can reach into the easiest and finding this works well. In fact, it is a lot less stressful than having many options!  Never is there a time when we go to bed saying we didn’t spend quality time together because, with a room shut off and another room housing all the bedroom furniture, we are in close proximity in our home a great deal of the time.

As we move things around to shuffle what we need to access, the question keeps popping up, where did this come from?  Do we need this followed by can we get rid of it? Life is much simpler with less.

As you watch your TV mounted on your wall in the bedroom, know that we are watching one sitting atop of our dog’s cage.   Don’t feel badly for us for we are having a memorable time just hanging out in close proximity without the showiness of dressed up decor.  Though it will be a welcome relief when the bedroom restoration work is done and we can move out of this dorm room, we have learned that less can truly be more!

Birthday Puppy

My husband says everyone loves babies and puppy dogs.  I think he’s right. What a shame they grow up to be dogs and teenagers and can learn to talk back or rather, bark back! Often I have heard that at two years, dogs quit being puppies.  Kinda odd how people throw out definitive timelines like that.  Do you know you are ineligible for the Newlywed Game after 2 years?  Yeah, like everything is figured out by then and you know everything about the other person already!  People are not like dogs, they surprise you more. Dogs are there for you when the rest of the world is too busy with stuff.

My puppy turns two this month. Minus the first 8 weeks she was with the breeder, all that time she has been with us.  And it has been a whirlwind of fun and love for the most part. Of all the dogs I have owned, this is easily the best one, behavior-wise and listens the best. Oh, that does not mean all the time or she wouldn’t be a dog now would she?

As she celebrates in a few days turning 2, the memories of Tessie grabbing shoes, accidents (though few!) and running from bath time come easily to mind.  They now are replaced by adult dog behavior, the list of nots, things she does not do:

• Not getting in the refrigerator when the door is open
• Not grabbing clothes when drawers are left ajar
• Not joining me in the shower if the door is open accidentally
• Not counter-serving to see if there is something better up there than in the dog bowl
• Not biting during playtime

And yet why do I find myself somewhat missing them, or at least the sight of a tiny puppy verses the long-legged creature I now have?  With hair in her eyes that always wear a sad expression no matter how happy she is, well, Tess is a mess.  Grooming her myself, every 4-5 weeks and that hair of hers still gets ahead of me constantly needing cut, trimmed, brushed or just overall groomed! As a puppy, her hair didn’t grow as fast and there wasn’t as much there to manage.

Now I find myself remembering the day we brought her home to our home to make it her home, you follow? She was loving but whimpering something she only does now when her feelings are hurt. It’s all relative too because hurt, in her mind is, “I’m on the leash, there is a potential new best friend over there, four legged or two, and I need to be free to greet them my exuberant way!”

So in the end, I suppose with Tessie turning two, many will consider her non-puppy.  With her quirky personality and classic labradoodle looks, she is something special.  As she hops on my lap still convinced she is small enough to sit there though I feel pinned down, I lovingly hold her and will continually call her ‘puppy’  well beyond this month!

Tessie

Pour Me Another Cup!

Writing and coffee go hand in hand to me. Am I alone?  Apparently not, I found out quickly in doing some research.  As Samuel Carlton in Why Coffee Remains the Lifeblood of Writers Everywhere points out (Medium. Com, Sept. 26, 2018) “It’s not just the caffeine it’s the extended stimulation.”  He goes on in his article to give various reasons why coffee seems a hallmark to writers’ toolbox. To quote T.S. Elliot, playwright, essayist “I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.”  Famous writers throughout the ages are known for frequenting coffee shops and then writing with a pen in hand and a coffee cup close by the other one.

I was curious, with all the writers in America, how much coffee is consumed?  400 Million Cups a day which ranks America as the leading consumer of coffee in the world. (e-importz.com/coffee-statistics, 2019) There are greater than 150 Million daily drinkers according to Importz.com.  We are a nation of coffee drinkers for sure!

Now it starts to make sense, you might be thinking, why there are so many coffee chains all over the place.  64% of Americans drink the stuff!  But you might be surprised to learn that 79% still brew at home. (Foodandwine.com, March 19, 2018, Elizabeth Sherman) However, with such a large number of drinkers, coffee shops still have a large market share.

I would surmise that many writers are working from home and brewing their own as I am. That said, I need to refresh my cup!

Young Protestor - Stay Engaged!

I turned on the tube and saw children of all ages marching for Climate Change.  I hope the spirit of getting involved in government and policies covers over to all areas and not just to this one issue.  I believe climate change is supremely important but I also feel the underlying fact remains young people need to be engaged in issues that affect their future and our government.

As a nation, we did not encourage participation in policy making with young people enough in the past. Look at this situation of no term limits. We have congressional candidates literally sitting on their hands in seats doing nothing for the American people but taking up space getting reelected on name recognition.   Young people must become aware of this and demand change. The movers and shakers are the ones that need to be in government, no matter the age.  Non-participators need to be pushed out. Inactivity in government should not be a choice. In business, stagnancy is going backwards. In a highly competitive international world complacent representatives hurt us all from growth opportunities.

May the protestors of today use their enthusiasm for climate to spearhead participation in all areas of government. Our nation was founded on the backs of relatively young men and women and it just may be their backs again that can unify it.

Things a Mother Should Say to a Daughter

I had a very open relationship with my children and talked very frankly. Below are things I think should not go unsaid between a mother and a daughter. I covered this pretty well with mine. I hope you agree with my list!

Christina Lynn Glasmeier-Lewis

 

1. Your beauty inside is more important than the outside
2. Never let someone else define you
3. Always keep your eyes and ears open to God
4. Be diligent with your goals you have set for yourself if you are truly passionate about achieving them.  Worthwhile achievements seldom come easily.
5. Each child you bear will not come with a cookie cutter instruction book so do not expect to ace parenting. Do the best you can do and trust your instincts. God gave them to you, not somebody else.
6. Sex does not equate to love. Know the difference between a one night stand and a lover & friend that's committed for life.
7. Boys can be rude but girls can be flat out mean, at any age. Know it and expect it so you aren’t caught off guard. Don’t take it to heart. Just be selective with your inner circle of friends. Less is more.
8. Society will try to tell you what makes a woman. You need to decide that for yourself and not be held back by labels and everyone else’s expectations or you will always fall short or satisfy everyone but you.
9. It’s okay to cry. Tears are cathartic and can be healing, at any age.
10. Be forgiving of others. Grudges create hate in the heart. This will hurt you more.
11. Do not fear using your voice. It was given to you for a reason.
12. There is no such thing as too much education. Never stop learning new things.
13. Be happy in whatever you choice to do, in your choices. Being happy and positive is healthy.
14. Be self-accepting and have self-love. Without them, you can't truly reach your potential or love someone else unconditionally. 
15. I will always love you for you.

Darlin'

There are notes from darling and darling notes from darlin’. Both hit me in the heart. My husband’s notes are few and far between because men are like that. Short on words but big on actions. But granddaughters, they put their feelings right out there to their grandmas and my Ava is no exception! Priceless are her notes.

As I look through my keepsake collections, one thing that keeps reappearing are some of the notes throughout the years from Ava. Her well-crafted messages with heartfelt statements in her own handwriting are beautiful pieces of literature to me. Each with a special memory attached.

They started from the day she could write and the first few are barely legible but to me it is a strong reminder the bond between us was already concrete in its foundation.  As soon as Ava could express I love you, I heard it verbally and then later, in writing as if to solidify it. She wanted to be certain, when she wasn’t near me, I never forgot it.

The messages from my granddaughter are on coloring pages, painted pictures, birthday

cards, handmade pictures and even scraps of paper. One of my all-time favorites is the one she left at our home in Florida on her last visit.  She wrote it on a cute notepad I keep for decoration in the bedroom she and her brother slept in while they visited. I came back home, after driving her back to Tennessee, to find the note in the bedroom  telling me she was sorry she had to leave now with a sad face drawn. She said she missed me already and that she would hurry back and loved me very much. And then it is followed by all those stars and exclamation points kids are notorious for putting on the end of everything for added emphasis. She hasn't been back to visit since but the note is here and perhaps that is all that matters.  That piece of Ava is priceless! Just darling from sweet precious one-of-a-kind Ava.

May you find the short sweet notes written in love from a spouse, grandchildren or a friend a great reminder to you of how you are bringing sunshine to someone’s life and more importantly, the blessing they bring to yours!!!⭐⭐⭐!!!🌟🌟🌟

America I Can Talk Freely

I was told recently that nothing political should be posted on my blog. Well that is hard to do when I am so political by nature. If my blog is about me I would be leaving a huge part of myself out of my blog by never saying anything political on it so here it goes….again. I am into politics but I am open-minded. I care about all people; I have my views but believe my views aren’t the only ones that matter.

So much is going on these days that it is hard to determine who is your friend and who is not. Untrue, nothing has really changed in that regard. Your true friends are still there, society has that wrong and wants you confused.. Just because our views differ on a few things be it religion, parenting or politics doesn't mean the friendship isn't any good. This is being different, something we are called to be; uniquely human. Some of my close friends have varying views from mine but in most areas we agree.  And yes, in politics, it is not always the same stance across the board on all policies.  There does have to be a commonality on enough areas to bond,  obviously. What matters most is the quality of the relationship, like it always does with any relationship.

Similar politics doesn’t mitigate a great friendship either!  That may be the only thing you have in common with someone and the qualities you value in every other regard may differ sharply.  Don’t get so hung up on politics that you aren’t able to step back and see the big picture.  It's hypocritical to not allow for the very differences you are championing in your political views. If you value people than, by definition, you should value those with other views besides yours if their value system mirrors your core system of beliefs. 

My blog is an expression of many of my views on a wide range of topics and I attempt to be relatable to many but I am sure I leave some behind. This is not by choice but it is impossible to please every reader. So with that said I have to say a few things on politics and if I offend a few, I can’t apologize for my opinions.  Everyone has them and has a right to them, including you to yours:

• Gun violence has gotten out of control in America and something must be done
• Both parties in the political spectrum simply must stop taking money from pharmaceutical companies and the healthcare industry. Check their campaign funding and find out where their campaign dollars are originating from then write them and publicize your findings.
• Research what you hear and read. Do not take the news or what others tell you verbatim. Repeating it doesn’t make it true.
• Recognize there are channels that are biased, on both sides of the political spectrum. This is called ‘ratings war” and translated that means advertising dollars. It is not about you or I, it is about making money.
• Be an informed voter. Don’t be someone who complains and doesn’t stay educated. Your civic duty is not to be a blind voter.
• Insist on solutions and not just banter on problems. We can change things with effort and action.

America was a dream that men and women died for to turn it into a reality. I write about it because I think their deaths mean something. That is why I stay concerned about politics; because I think I owe them that, even if it means taking a few potshots now and then. It is easier than taking bullets.  And I believe America is worth standing up for. Do you?

One Moment in Time

If you spin your wheels

Constantly reviewing the past

Your life today

Will be a shallow forecast.

Life will have little depth,

As you retrace steps you have walked before.

Second guessing the choices you made,

Tearing yourself apart at the core.

The light of day can break through,

If given a chance,

But it won’t slip in

If you’re living in a trance.

Yesterdays are yesteryears

The present is where you are meant to reside.

Let the sun hit your shoulders,

Stretch your arms wide and step outside.

Forgive yourself and those that forsake you

For any errors of choice made,

Take the lessons and move on,

Let bad memories fade.

Life is made up of various moments,

All diverse and unique,

In the universe of our lifetime,

Each one is quite petite.

Pulled together,

     Is our lifetime

Moments grouped together

                                     On a timeline.

Don’t miss out on the joy of experiencing the 'now'

    We all need to thrive to feel alive. 

                   What is right in front of you this moment...

Is all that really matters......for it will never come again.

Embrace it .................

.

Beach Time

The beauty of the beach was all around her. The seagulls dove quickly and deftly on the crest of an ocean wave. While the woman dug her toes deeper into the wet sand, having stopped walking for a moment, she soaked in the smell of salt air. Gazing down the shoreline at this early hour, she saw the athleticism of a jogger on full display.

There were no signs of children now at the wee hours of the day. Nor was anyone in the ocean besides a lone avid swimmer further out in the waves with his masterful strokes conditioning for what must be a future race.  Her eyes glazed over watching him battle nothing but the elements and his own self driven motives, his passion. 

The peace of the morning was invigorating and refreshing; she inhaled it deeply and let it become part of her being. As she raised her arms to the sky, palms stretched outward she let all the tension of her life absolve with that one stretch and one deep cleansing breathe originating from the diaphragm moving its way slowly upward.

She turned, kicked her feet into the rising tide water feeling the coolness on her toes, laughing as if a child once again in love with the ocean.  The peace of the morning was invigorating and refreshing. She let these moments become part of her being, inhaling it and committing it to her deepest memory banks.  

Passing by condos on her one side and the ocean on the other side, she saw chairs with various colored umbrellas, marking locations for each condominium complex. It was a

seascape much like looking out at the ocean where colorful sails can sometimes be seen. Umbrellas of red, green, and shades of blues. These empty chairs were ready and waiting for rent for the non-sun-bathers who want a prime seat for ocean viewing while vacationing. The one thing that draws everyone to the beach, the vision that drew her here this early, the beauty of the ocean.. Some say it’s magical.

Her foot almost grazes a sandcastle as she gazes down and admires its details. Memories come flooding back of her moments as a parent with her children sitting with sand in the seat of her bathing suit with no care in the world trying to build the biggest and best sand towers to the delight of her kids. Buckets of water were carried, years later by her grandchildren to create wet sand to help pound the walls of the fortress. And, at the same time, the littlest one was hunting for prized shells to place on the outside to add décor to the final creation.

With a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye, she looked with admiring eyes at the one

before her. What a masterpiece she saw made with as much love and attention to detail as all the ones she had created. It was apparent someone had joy in their heart when they created this vision in the sand and left it here for those who passed by to enjoy its creation. She walked away reflecting on the memories of castles that had been washed away with the sand and passage of time but never far from the mind.

She was drawn to the water, to walk into the ocean now. The coolness of the salt water further up her body, hitting her knees then her waist, refreshing her from the heat of the walk, the glare of the

sun that had warmed her body. She saw glimpses of schools of fish fluttering by barely visible.  Sure signs of God’s masterpiece, designed with care. She breathed deeply again, stretched again throwing her arms backwards saying aloud “This is peace.  This is serenity.”  She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, then, slowly turned to the shoreline to head home with a slight smile.

To take the beauty of the beach with her only required her carrying the treasured moments in her mind. Perhaps that is why she took the time to soak them up. Then, they would be etched in her memory forever….. the morning ocean walk.

The Face of Silent Anger

The room was dark

The air was still

The man sat there stoic

With his body motionless.

His eyes were squinted

With furrowed brows drawn

His body was tense

Nothing made sense.

His life had blessings

Many bestowed on him

Yet here he sat with anger

A hate already on the brim.

Not a tear was shed,

Not a voice did he make,

He just sat there in contemplation

Considering the course of action to take.

Maybe one day he’s find his happiness

A joy he longed for

Maybe one day his emotions will be joyful

And he’ll find God wants his spirit to soar.

Until that day

He will stay in this place

Unreachable to many

with a stoic face.

A Mess? Bark Yes!

Each day begins with me hearing a four legged friend next to me making noises in the morning.  It looked like a puppy that popped in the cage at night to get her milk bone but

what I see now is a contortionist! The sounds are that of the cage as she repositions herself moving her four legs in the oddest twisted positions, never looking remotely like the images of dogs seen curled up like a bug in a rug. Even outside the cage, she does this. Thus, my day begins with the sound of the cell rattling as if Tess is imprisoned. She seems the only one in the bedroom unbothered by the noise, as she rattles it with her four paws.

When I realize, after about 15 minutes into the rattling each morning, Tessie is into her stretchy phase of the morning festivities, I prepare myself to get up. She looks no different than her sleeping state in her cage now really, except her face is more into the contortions she does with her legs; she seemly meekly looks over and quickly it becomes a much more intense stare.. What is it about a dog staring at you that burns through you as if someone is continually poking you until you respond?  The power of a stare, wow, even pets have it innately! And we apparently are trained by them to respond.

Tess has grown over the last 18 months of her life into a slim but nice size labradoodle for me. After having a 125 lb. lab, a 55 lb. dog is sure a treat!  However, the pull on the lead can feel as strong as the smaller the dog, she seems to be able to get more traction at times. This is especially true when her two favorite things to go after are in sight, bunnies or geckos.  My husband and I try everything to get her distracted and if that won’t work, the commands start coming right and left before the dreaded “No Tessie” has to be stated, repeatedly. To date, no deaths!

It seems the minute I step out the door with her, someone is coming by in a golf cart. She is well-trained to sit when cars and carts go by. However, if someone wants to stop to see her, or as she feels, admire her, all bets are off. Then it begins a match between her wants and mine. She wants to levy out kisses and jump which is not allowed. We paid too much for training to have a disobedient dog. Too bad Tess doesn’t always subscribe to that line of thinking. She will push the limits when new people are near her, so eager to give out love. She desperately wants everyone to like her also. Perhaps she has self-esteem issues because she is kinda ugly. Oh shoot, her vet says the poodle part of her is very sensitive to comments about her looks and that I must tell her she is very pretty, regularly. I must say I am lax in that department. Who wants a dog with a big head?  

I kind of get Tessie, in a strange way. Her appearance is confusing making her probably a very confused individual who needs a lot of reassurance. She is a labradoodle but her DNA got crisscrossed and she is just plain unusual looking like God couldn’t make up which color to make her. Thus, she is like no other I’ve or many have seen.

Tessie’s mother was a chocolate brown and her father was a black poodle, Tessie is neither of these colors. What I see looking up at me is a continual changing mish-mash of white,

gray and shades of both, a variegated whatever is the best way to describe her, kind-of like the Muppet   from Sesame Street. Her tail is the exception, clearly black, been that way from day one and stayed that way.  Perhaps it was the one way of letting us know she was going to be just like her dad named Buddy, a gregarious large doggie, full of personality!  Tess’s hair is a mess   so more often than not I say “Tess, you are a mess” because when she is brushed, well she looks no different.

Speaking of different, when Tessie boards with her trainer, she is so good they can use her as a demonstration dog. Yep, the same dog I am talking about issues on the lead with jumping (and in the house with company, sometimes, as in totally unpredictable) they have a well-oiled machine!) They hand her back to us saying, if you have a problem, you are the problem.

Actually, in most all ways, we are good with her too. And she is a good dog. Issues many other pet owners have we don’t and we thank Tessie regularly when we hear of them.  No accidents, no destroying things in our house, no horrible separation anxiety or not obeying

house rules we have established e.g. certain furniture she can’t sit on. We even leave her in the house extended periods of time out of the cage all the time and come home to nothing out of place. The extent of her damage is eating paper out of the garbage. What is it about the taste of paper with her?  And she bugs me for feeding her my watermelon and yogurt. But I started the bad trend by feeding it to her in the first place. Wednesday night has become $1.00 ice cream cone night for not just us but cone night for Tess; she lucks out because I don’t like the cones! Technically, those are bad habits I suppose but every dog must have some bad vices. 

Tessie can be your best friend when you just want someone to snuggle with and other times, she prefers her space and prefers being left alone. Then, I have to entice her with a treat to even come up and sit with me on the bed.  There is one chair in the living room she has been trained she can sit on laps. She will literally fly through the air across the room to jump on the lap to plop on!  No warming just flying mass of a blur of silver, gray, off white and there is Tess in your lap. In a split decision, she’ll decide if your face or ears are dirty, and it will be hell to pay to get her to stop!

And yet, when she is done with the licking, with me, she curls up in my arms, and lays her head down. I feel I have a precious gift, and feel blessed. Many times, she literally falls asleep like this, in my arms, like a small dog. I hate to get up to disturb her. I want the moment to last awhile just like I felt when my kids had early morning feedings as newborns.  Except, it feels like a dead weight, but I bear it because it’s her, it’s Tessie and at the end of the day, I love her, mess and all!  She’s a mess but, hey, so am I so are we all. And yep, I love you Messy Tessie

Blame Grandma's Bread

When I was a kid, Grandma Gliatti’s house was where the sun and moon rose and never fell. And   top on the list was her homemade bread!  With a braided loaf of Italian bread on the table that you could literally tear into, heaven was there, on the old kitchen table and you didn’t have to die to get there! Thus began my love of bread and butter that has haunted me for years as in I can’t walk away from it! Why ever go out to eat, ever with a cook like her in the house, and on visits to Toledo to see her, we didn't!

It was interesting to learn the origins of bread. 8,000 B.C. in Egypt the first grinding stone was used to crush the first grain. The grinding stone they invented was called a “quern” and the bread was made along the Nile River Valley.  There is an entire evolution to be studied on the development of bread where it grew from those early stages to where it is today and all the various options taken for granted to today’s consumers everything from flatbread, cornbread, whole wheat bread, sesame bread, potato bread and on and on.

I thought, for years, I was alone besides my Italian family in my love of bread until I began working at Berman Printing in Cincinnati, Ohio. That job’s side benefit will always be a wonderful memory.Instead of doughnut runs in the morning, Friday pizza days, this place was my kind of operation!  They opted for “bread days’! Yep, they found a fabulous bread shop in downtown where all breads were homemade.

 

Everyone had to take turns making the runs with the pooled money in the pot. When it was your turn, you drove there and picked up an assortment of bread loaves and butter sticks and voila!  Every Friday we munched on breads and butter!  My word, was it heavenly, we devoured that bread. Friday mornings had the best attendance!

After leaving Berman, any other place I worked at, when I mentioned bread and butter runs, everyone thought I was talking about the bank. When I explained what I meant, I was met with odd stares.  So, back to reality, only Italians and apparently folks in the print world are nuts over bread. 

The bread industrial revolution took place in the beginning of the twentieth century. Prior to that time-frame, the majority of bread was sold in local mom and pop’s bakeries. After the revolution too place, grocery stores got into the game and took over the sales of breads and bakeries took a back seat. With it, bread making become a lost art form since it was so often now mass-produced. Sad too because too often, those of us that experienced the taste of homemade, and remember it know the chain grocery store bread's taste does not remotely compare to the bread of the past.

And yet bread is still contagious even if not as tasty. Healthy or not, I am eating it. Who cares if carbs are bad, so is drinking anything but water.  Grandma lived a long time on her bread and I am banking on the fact I will too. So eat your bread and butter too if you love it and don't listen to the neigh-sayers. We all have our obsessions and yours just happens to be one that has been around since 8,000 B.C.; it's stood the test of time and so will you! 

"Good" Friday

Good Friday is here

            The reminder

            to be kinder

A day with spiritual awakening

that is sobering, somber and saddening.

A day so many say,

    “If I was there that day,

     I wouldn’t have stood at bay!”

But your sinfulness would have blocked the way.

                                                        So hit your knees and pray.

Jesus did not believe in the Easter bunny,

            nor fed throngs of crowds with candy.

but his message was loving and kind,

A much sweeter find.

He gave us all an everlasting sign.

With Good Friday,

we are called to reflect

…….. Genuflect

Say a few words in prayer

Understand Jesus’s despair.

He suffered a horrible death,

while publicly shamed

by the very people he came to save.

And he did………

Good Friday his destiny played out.

Crucified on a cross

while his clothing was tossed

                   …amidst soldiers, as they laughed haughtily

at his plight and the fact he didn’t fight.

“What?  A King of Jews?”

Hanging on a cross

Between two thieves

Is the Son of God

As crowds stood by

Watching him die.

 ‘

He asked God to forgive them,

Saying they know not what they do,

All the while hanging his head low,

Knowing he had planted seeds of faith to sow that would grow.

Your seed is your faith,

Your water is your prayer,

Share it with good deeds, especially with those in need.

Your reward in heaven will be heavenly.

Have a joyful blessed Easter everyone! 

   

Shopper's Hell

I have decided that grocery store is one of my least favorite stores.  I have spent far too many hours in it over the years and would be eternally happy if I could spend the rest of my life never having to walk in one again!  And I fail to see why women insist on seeing this as a treat when I see it as a chore. 

The choices on the shelf are immense.  I honestly do not see what the difference is in the brands on anything, be it potato chips, green beans, bread, except for the price. And yet, like every other shopper, I can spend 2-5 minutes standing there reading all the brands trying to make a decision which one looks like the right one for my home. 

Companies know this too so marketing departments spend huge amounts of dollars simply on the color of the label, size of the packaging and the verbiage you read. Even something as simple as the word “improved” is strategic when there may not be one darn thing changed in the product. How would you, the consumer,  know?  Truly, we are naive as can be and fall victim to the marketing ploys shopping even in grocery stores! All those Store Specials, coupon ads, high stacks of products on end-caps are there for a reason, Buyer look here, you need me. It never says “Hey dummies get this!” It doesn’t have to, you’ll buy it regardless.

My doctor tells me reading labels on the back of food are important. Well, Lordy, could they type it larger than the directions that come with prescriptions!  

By the time you read the labels, pick up a few extra bags of carrots in the produce department for your eyes due to eye strain. Oh and lady your cart is creating a major traffic jam!  And by the painstaking timely reading of labels, your cart and body blocks others. Move it or loss it. You are creating a massive bottleneck and enemies and if you don’t hurry up do not be surprised to hear “Attention, we have a traffic jam in Aisle 3, slow reader. We apologize; please hit this aisle last before you check out.”  YOU are drawing the wrong kind of attention.

The ingredients are a trade-off; one is low in sodium but high in carbs.  By the

time you are done, your cart is half empty deciding not a dang thing you want to eat is good for the body. Then you have that shopper that thinks they are so helpful watching you grab something to place in your cart and offering unsolicited advice. By the time they are done telling you what is unhealthy about the product you are convinced you’ll die from it and begrudgingly put it back. Hell, maybe you should hire her to do your shopping next time. Or, on second choice, forget the labels, throw everything in you want and get the hell out of there!  Then, forget the extra bag of carrots; your eyes will be fine.

Ever notice most folks don’t dress up to go to the grocery store? Au naturelle, not as in naked though, is preferred; next to no make-up and sweats or crummy shorts. Why bother while pushing a cart buying food?  Well it seems every time I go, I run into people I seldom see and there I am looking my all-time worst!  Most are polite enough not to verbally say what they are thinking. They don’t have to, their eyes say it all. “Wow, you must be picking up a prescription!”   

I dart in the opposite direction, careful now to not cross their path again. Glancing in my cart, I notice items have magically appeared that weren’t on my carefully prepared list.  Most of these are those damn impulse buys that just

seemed too good to pass up but I have no idea what the original price. You know what I am talking about because far too many of you do it too or stores wouldn’t do it, constantly.  If my husband is with me, because I don’t like going into the war zone by myself, he will say, with some of these purchases “When did you start eating that?”  My response, “It’s on sale,” as he rolls his eyes, totally committed to doing all the grocery shopping again.  For that alone, I think it is a great deal and an awesome move on my part more committed than ever to get more junk in the cart!

I detest the chatter other cart pushers want to engage in.  People want to engage with me every time. Perhaps they think they can be my GA sponsor, as

in Grocery Shoppers Anonymous.  But I am the opposite of that, I am far from being addicted to being in the grocery store and that is not what I look depressed and hostile.  Meaningless dialogue. In endless aisles of food is not how God wants me to spend the last few years of my life.  Look, if I was in a clothing store or something, there could be an interesting dialogue of what is around us. There is just nothing I want to say about toilet paper to acquaintances, I

don’t need to know anyone’s preferences in brands of TP.    

Then you have the kids’ parents who give the little crumb grabbers anything to shut them up, usually chocolate candy they wear everywhere. If you are lucky

enough to pass them closely, you get a mushy smushy chocolate bar that looks like poop smeared on the edge of your cart or worse yet, your arm.  The mother looks at you and laughs finding it funny.  I want to say, “Hey, I paid my dues lady!  Give me a butt wipe so I can get this mess off me.” Now I am making record time to the front line!

Then you have the kids’ parents who give the little crumb grabbers anything to shut them up, usually chocolate candy they wear everywhere. If you are lucky

enough to pass them closely, you get a mushy gooey chocolate bar that looks like poop smeared on the edge of your cart or worse yet, your arm.  The mother looks at you and laughs finding it funny.  I want to say, “Hey, I paid my dues lady!  Give me a butt wipe so I can get this mess off me.” Now I am making record time to the front line!

You also have the type that gives them a toy they never intend on buying. This child plays with it and you know for sure it will be broken before they make it to the front of the store. Too young to be arrested for shop-lifting though technically it is in the category of a loss to the company but hell, even the store is grateful of the white noise being silenced so they turn the other cheek. All these prompts future juvenile delinquents. How many people in prison were past toddlers in grocery carts breaking toys in Krogers, huh? 

None of us old folks did any of this. Nope, our children were all angels in the store, walked straight lines, listened to us intently and never asked for any candy. Right and they had to walk in the center of grocery aisles so their angel wings didn’t knock cans off the shelves! But hey, we are short on memory so let us keep on believing we were perfect parents and did no wrong.

Naturally now my squeaky wheel on my cart is beginning to create a migraine from hell, that and the stress of my shopping not being done yet. I ask my husband:”How long before we get there?” as in the check-out line. We have been here far too long. The cart usually, by now starts malfunctioning direction ally going every way but straight.  People look at me  with the audacity expecting me to go upfront and get another cart. Really, seriously, like I am going to march to the front of the store, at this point, get another cart and off-load every item and delay my exit?

The lowest paid employee, FYI, is the bagger. I learned this by, yes, one time holding that esteemed position. That person is also the gopher of the store. They sometimes offer to take your bags to your car but who wants a stranger walking out to *your car these days? Does the store management not realize that would be the easiest way to have your car-jacked?  Take a stranger to your car with your keys in hand!  So nope, I load my bags in the car myself every time if shopping by myself. And once I arrive home, I prefer, in a perfect world, to leave the bags in the trunk. Hell, I am too exhausted from the whole experience to put them away. Now is when I could use the gopher.  

After making it to the light, the clerk at check-out, everyone went on break so only 2 registers are open and the lines are long. I make a mad dash to the shortest one. After 5 minutes I find out why. I manage to always pick the chatty lady that seems to have more trouble than usual finding the UPC codes on each item! And naturally she needs price checks on a few and won't take the customers word on the item. When I get up to the register, no price, no buy. That is the easiest way out of hell. 

And so, to those of you that love grocery shopping, I salute you.  May you always find it something joyful to compensate for those of us that hate it? Know that I will drink a hearty glass of wine to toast you as you go with your coupons, grocery lists and shop for food at your favorite grocery stores!