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!