Humor

Navigating Through Life the Traffic School Way

Posted on January 10, 2013 by Kami

A traffic school for navigating through life sounds like a good idea to me. Anything that helps me avoid a big fine, a penalty, some heartache, frustration or pain seems like a great idea.

So I’ve come up with a few rules of my own.  Having done some significant amount of traveling, I figure maybe I’m somewhat qualified. At the very least, I need the reminders myself.  I’ll work on the slide show presentation later.

Old Truck

Old Truck (Photo credit: cindy47452)

  • Avoid rush hour if possible, morning and evening.

The sun is always at a bad angle at rush hour, low in the sky and in your eyes, or reflecting in your side or rearview mirror.  I aim for the middle ground when possible.  I can legally use the HOV lane between nine and three. I can easily change lanes, merge, keep space between me and some yo-yo on his phone.  This works in real life too.  Trying to do what everyone else is doing, when they’re doing it isn’t always the best course of action. Be yourself.

  • Don’t text and drive. Don’t drink and drive.

That’s a no brainer isn’t it?  Likewise, don’t drink and be online.  You’ll regret whatever you put online while under the influence.  An emotional crash, a friend bender, relationship dents, are all possible outcomes when you’re online under the influence. You are not wiser, wittier, more honest or pleasant when you’ve had a few too many. Angry texts and online rants aren’t generally productive either.

  • Use a map, or at least have one with you.

I used to always have a map in the car.  I used to always have a plan for my life, for my day, for my week, for the next hour.  Sometimes your plan just needs ditching and you need to take a detour. If so, go for it. You’ve got a map to get you back on course when you’re ready. Sometimes you need to stick to the planned route no matter what.  Only you know which it is.  It’s also okay to ask directions, get a different perspective, especially from someone who knows the terrain.

  • Have a contingency plan if you get separated.

Staying in touch is always a good idea. A weekly email to your sister, a phone call to mom or dad, a text to your brother, an instant message to a friend, an ongoing Scrabble game with your cousin. There’s also actual handwritten letters, not to mention live and in person visits. Don’t let those distances grow too far apart. Those connections are what really count. That’s what the drive is really all about.

Another closed rest area.

Another closed rest area. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

  • Stop for bathroom breaks more often than you think you need to.

I can tell you from experience, breakdowns happen and you don’t want to be squatting on the side of the road, no matter how big the bushes might seem.  You think you can go full throttle through your day with no breaks, no feet up, no ten-minute nap, but you can’t and you shouldn’t.  Step outside and breath real air, go up and down the stairs a couple of times, drink a bottle of water, actually go to the bathroom, do some deep breathing, read a page or two of a book, rest your eyes, do a few stretches.  Give your brain and body a break here and there and then you can put the pedal to the metal for a while longer.

  • Bring snacks, CDs and water.

Snacks provide entertainment value sometimes, but they also provide memories.  See my post about the Lonely Duck for proof of that one.  What’s a road trip without licorice, peanuts and m&m’s?  Not a real road trip.  Pop some music or a great audio book in the CD player and enjoy. Sometimes it’s the little things that make the difference, don’t ya think? A handful of laughter, a little dollop of whipped wonder or a spoonful of silliness, can make all the difference in life.

A typical speed limit sign in the United State...

A typical speed limit sign in the US showing a 50 mph restriction. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

  • It’s okay to go slower than the speed limit.

Now there’s a revelation!  That number on the sign says it’s a LIMIT.  Not a suggested speed, but a maximum speed.  I know this is a new concept to most drivers.  It’s also okay to not race through your life.  Just because everyone else has their kids in fifteen afterschool events per week doesn’t mean you have to do the same with your kids.  Your to-do list could have one item on it, and that’s okay. Take life at the speed you’re comfortable with.

  • Take the scenic route occasionally, or at least take a different route.

Studies show, (okay I made that up, but it’s true) that a change of scenery is a great plan.  You don’t have to up and move to another state, like I did six times, for a change.  Maybe the change you need is simply a change in routine, or a change in how you react to traffic, or a change in how many breaths you take per minute, or a downshift in the urgency you place on whatever it is you’re doing. Smell those roses, pick those daisies, walk on that grass, take that photo, touch the wet paint, turn right instead of left!

road rage

road rage (Photo credit: Robert S. Donovan)

  • Don’t yell at, aggravate, cut-off, or flash random hand gestures at drivers.

I still talk to the traffic way too much, but I have changed how I talk.  I say quietly to myself  things like, “I sure hope his wife doesn’t deliver those twins before they get to the hospital.” Or I wish them well in “getting to a bathroom before the food poisoning hits full force.” I figure there’s a reason behind what people do, no matter how aggravating it is to me.  I also try to cut myself some slack when I’m the irritating person.  I try to say kinder things to myself, give myself credit for what I do right, instead of focusing on the few things I think I’m failing at.  Kindness never hurt anyone, in fact it often helps.

So, class…did I miss anything?  Would you add any pointers to my Traffic School Advice?  Let me know in the comments below.

Don’t forget to buckle up and have a nice trip!

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Categories: Humor, Traffic | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Year of Three Christmas Letters

Posted on December 22, 2012 by Kami

We wrote three Family Christmas letters one year.

Version One:

christmas card outtakes 2007- choke hold

christmas card outtakes 2007- choke hold (Photo credit: Nikki McLeod)

The reality check, went something like this:

Pretty much our life hit rock bottom this year.  It’s been filled to brim with financial setbacks galore, unemployment, minimum wage jobs for the grown ups, multiple visits with various government workers, lots of paperwork, mechanical failures of every kind, mental health issues, surgeries, poor health, teenage angst and rebellion out the wazoo, junior high drama.  You name it, we’ve experienced it.  It’s a wonder we’re all still sane.  Hope your family is having a better year than we are.  Merry Christmas!

Version Two:

The rated G for too-good-to-be-true version, went something like this:

Just wanted to update you on our family’s stellar year!  Dad has had plenty of time to work on projects around the house, mom is busy expanding her résumé! We’ve added doctors and lawyers to our list of close acquaintances!  Each of the children have increased their knowledge base with new experiences and fun and exciting people!  Time just seems to race by with all that we have going on!  What a year!!!!!!!!!!!  Here’s hoping you’re family is as wonderful and great as ours!  Happy Holidays!!!!!!

Version Three:

A kind of tightrope act between the first two letters, went like this:

Thought we’d let you know what’s happening in our neck of the woods.  It hasn’t been a very good year for us, but we’re making the best of it. Mom has gone back out into the workforce and so us kids have had to step up a bit and help out more.  Dad’s been looking for work for a while. It hasn’t been easy, but we’re learning a lot. We could use some extra prayers if you’re the praying sort.  We surely do pray for and love you and your family.  We feel blessed to know you.  Here’s to a Happy New Year for all of us!

christmas card

christmas card (Photo credit: Stephen Rees)

I can’t remember if we actually mailed any letters out at all. I don’t think we did. Couldn’t afford the stamps, or ran out of time. It was pretty hilarious writing them all, kind of healing to laugh at the pain.

Maybe it was our way of dealing with all the letters we received that made our toes curl with jealousy or irritated us with their rose-colored glasses perspective. Or maybe it was a reaction to the view that everyone else has a perfect life, a perfect family, a perfectly normal kind of constant happiness. We knew that wasn’t true, but it can feel that way when your life has gone south.

Sometimes laughter really is the only way to treat life’s headaches.

p.s. The preceding events may have been altered or fictionalized or embellished for brevity as well as sanity.

p.p.s. If you send out Family Christmas letters, please keep doing so, we love hearing about your family, warts and awards and all!

p.p.p.s.  Merry Christmas!

Categories: Family, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

These Elves are No Shoemaker’s Helpers

Posted on December 19, 2012 by Kami

Being the stealthy creatures that they are, Elves are tricky to follow.  Knowing this, and lacking any useful magic myself,  I began to prepare days in advance.  I had determined to find out where that dratted Elf on a Shelf went every night.  I didn’t believe the hooey that he went to the North Pole and back every night to make his report.

Elf on a Shelf Doll

Elf on a Shelf (Photo credit: Michael Kappel)

That story was particularly unbelievable given the myriad forms of communication available.  Fax, Skype, text, email, Instant Messaging, twitter, Facebook, oh yeah, and the phone.  I’m sure I’ve left something out. Anyway, I wasn’t buying the idea that our Elf on a Shelf was putting that many miles on his frequent flyer card during December. Determined to find out what he really did every night, I put my plan into motion.

My plan wasn’t high-tech at all, just a play on an Elves weaknesses.

Three nights before my attempt to follow him, I left out an Elf’s favorite food, M&M’s.  I didn’t simply leave out one small bag of them, no. I set out several already opened bags, peanut, plain, pretzel filled, mint. Of course, lack of restraint being an Elf’s chief weak point, he ate nearly every crunchy candy-shelled morsel of chocolate I had left out.

The next night I strategically set out eggnog.  An opened half-gallon of the creamy confection “accidentally” was left on the counter.  Several mostly full glasses were strewn about the house.  Sure enough, the next morning, not a drop of eggnog could be found.  I’d have sworn he’d licked the glasses clean.

The last night before my attempt to track his movements, I left out treats galore. I set out bowls of carmel popcorn, candied pecans, taffy, and almond roca.  I set out plates of fudge and divinity and homemade caramels. As I knew he would, Elf went wild and ate every last crumb.  The little hog.

I had also casually left lying about, as added insurance, a miniature necklace of sparkling jingle bells. Shiny musical jewelry was sure to be irresistible to this little mischief maker.  Sure enough, the next morning, the necklace was hanging around Elf”s neck, as if someone had dressed him up and placed him just so. As if, ha!

After three nights of extreme indulgence, Elf on a Shelf was looking a bit plump.  I knew he’d be slower, louder, less graceful.  Between his heftier self and the jingling necklace it would be a cinch following him later that night.

I “fell asleep” on the couch in the same room where Elf perched. When he moved for the first time all day, I heard the tinkling of that lovely little necklace and quietly followed him.

Fortunately he didn’t open some wormhole or secret door to transport himself to the North Pole.  No, it was much less dramatic than that.  Surprisingly I followed his clunking, chunky steps to a nearby all night coffee house.  Oddly enough, dozens of other Elves off of their shelves were converging there as well.

Each Elf grabbed a tiny cup of hot cocoa, threw himself into a comfy couch or chair and began chatting up a storm with the group. Back slapping and high-fiving and fist bumping, they joked and chortled. After their third cup of cocoa, they began sharing miniature photographs and passed them around the circle . They were laughing and guffawing, snorting and hooting.

Shockingly , there were photos of Mom’s sneaking candy and wrapping gifts for themselves, photos of Dad’s adding an extra something to their morning eggnog and peeking under the wrapping paper at gifts under the tree.  The photos of the children’s shenanigans were particularly hilarious to themselves.  It was “awkward family photos” run amok.

After a few minutes of this veritable, chocolate drunken laughfest, I’d had enough. I walked the darkened streets, dismayed and disillusioned.

Our Elf would find himself without a shelf to sit on by morning.  As cute as some of his nightly forays had appeared, I now knew the truth and would not take part any longer.

Who knew what secret Facebook-like nonsense these Elves participated in.  Was Santa in on it, too?  Or was it just this one small group of rogue Elves?

I wished I could turn back the clock to three days before.  I wished I’d never followed our Elf. Sometimes, it’s better just to be oblivious.

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

Can We Just Call It a Forfeit?

Posted on December 17, 2012 by Kami

I stopped looking at my to-do list last week.

It wasn’t really a cognitive decision.  It was more like throwing my hands in the air and surrendering.

White flag waving.

I give up, you win.  I lose.  Whatever.

College football's 2007 Holiday Bowl: This pla...

College football’s 2007 Holiday Bowl: (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My days are like an American football game, where the team with the highest score has the ball and there’s only a minute left on the clock.  They go through the motions.  Put the ball into play, pretend to shove and jostle each other, let the clock run.  They do it again, pretending at playing the rest of the game, but really only letting the clock run out until the game is officially over.

Clearly, obviously, the game was really over when the score was so out of balance it was pointless to keep playing.  No way the other team could catch up, even with a miracle pass or two. The fans in the stands have been leaving since that last big score, maybe sooner than that.  Kind of pointless.

That’s how it seems.

Unfortunately, I’m not one of the fans, I can’t simply leave the stadium and go home.  I’m one of the players.  Pretending at the game, but my heart isn’t in it. And, guess what? I’m not on the winning team, either.

My to-do list is the opponent in the football game.  No matter how hard I try, how many hours I work at it, I will never catch up to the other team.  They have the ball.

I’m not normally winning this to-do list game, but this one, the Women’s Holiday Bowl is always a blowout. The clock runs out on December 25.

I’ve put up and decorated a tree.  There are bright shiny lights outside on the house.  I’ve bought a few gifts.

Three points for me. Yay!

Now the winning team’s score: They are ahead by an obscene amount of points. Add to the other team’s score everyone else’s expectations and my own expectations. The cluttered house is points against me.  The piled up mountain of clean, but wrinkling, unfolded laundry puts me further behind the game.  The neglected plants, the science experiments in the refrigerator, the overflowing garbage, the avalanching desk are more points for the other team. Add in the points of undone Holiday tasks, errands, baking, mailing, wrapping, shopping, decorating and the game is a rout.

White Flag on top of a snowy mountain and in f...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

White flag, I surrender.  I won’t play the game anymore. The to-do list team has won.

So I stopped looking at the to-do list.

Instead, I listen to relaxing, no lyrics, seasonal music.  I smile at the pretty glowing lights on the tree.  I anticipate seeing my daughter who is flying in from out-of-state for a week-long visit.  My heart warms to the thought of my sister who’s planning a trip here.

I put away the boxes of decorations that won’t go up this year. I go to bed at a reasonable hour, no late nights for me.   I read a book, a tangible, in the hands hard copy, turning pages slowly, savoring the words, rereading sentences that resonate.

I wake up without feeling panicked.  I stick to my usual routine.

The to-do list team builds, grows, looms, plays the game, racking up points, while I go about my life humming and attempting an aura of obliviousness.  I want to feel happy about things, not let it bother me. I want to emit a sense of carefree abandon.

I don’t think anyone is buying it.

The severely out of balance game is humiliating to watch and even worse to participate in.

I’m ready for the locker room.

Or the padded room.

Categories: Humor, Wondering | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

“Remember The Beanie Baby!” A Tale of Teenie Proportions

Posted on December 7, 2012 by Kami

We have a saying at our house: “Remember the Beanie Baby!”

It’s a sentiment that applies to many situations and none of them have anything to do with collector’s items.  Well, not really, except for the incident that engraved that thought on our family’s collective conscience.

The summer of 1998 found our family frolicking about the countryside.  Leaving MSH home to fund our travels, the kids and I took off for family reunions, various once a year get-togethers, and just plain hanging out at Grandpa and Grandma’s, both sets.  It was a twelve-hour drive, or more with kids, to get there.  Then we drove a variety of shorter hops from one relative’s house, to another, to another over the course of three weeks.

To make the trip even more delightful, the AC in the van didn’t work.  There’s nothing like having a warm breeze whipping your hair around for half the day, the sound of the wind roaring in your ears, to make it really feel like an endless summer.  The back windows only angled out a couple of inches, serving mostly as venting for the hot air being blown through the van.   It couldn’t have been very comfortable for the back seat riders.  Fortunately, I was the driver.

That year was the tail end of the Great Beanie Baby Craze.  McDonald’s had jumped on the hyperactive pellet filled fuzzy critter bandwagon.  With each Happy Meal purchased, a Teenie Beanie, miniature version of the originals, could also be bought for $2.

My kids suggested that if we went to a McDonald’s in every town we visited, we’d finally accumulate all the possible Beanie Babies (12) that were available in miniature form.  It broke the monotony of all that driving, and gave a sort of treasure hunt mystique to each day. At least they’d end up with one or two of their favorites.  We seemed to have good luck with this plan and everyone was happy with his or her new acquisitions, except my youngest daughter.

She coveted Inch the Worm.  The bright colors, the squiggly body, the little stitched on eyes, would make her summer completely perfect.  Finally, nearing the end of the vacation, we hit the jackpot.  We’d down the last Happy Meal we’d ever want to eat and voilà. Inch the Worm was her new best friend.

A distant cousin of Inch the Worm Tilby.

A distant cousin of Inch the Worm Tilby.

Inch went everywhere with her, never leaving her hand for a second. The two of them seemed to lead an active fantasy life, where Inch the Worm was quite the little hero.

Inch had a predilection for flying.  He especially liked to ride the breezes created by the open back windows in the van.

“You’re going to drop your beanie baby out the window!” my son told her.

“No, I’m not!” she’d counter, obstinately gripping Inch even tighter.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered back.

That conversation took place, or some iteration of it, multiple times a day.  Sometimes it was one of her two older sisters. “That little worm is gonna disappear!” they warned.

Rarely, she would pull Inch back in and rest him on her lap, or in a pocket, or in her backpack.  Usually, she just stubbornly kept Inch in the breeze, flying carefree and happy.

Then, the inevitable happened.

You guessed it.

“MOM! Pull over!!” my youngest screamed from the back seat. “I dropped my beanie baby!”

We were racing up a hill going 55 mph, with almost no shoulder to the road, cars packed around us. There was no way and no place to pull over. Even if we did, it would be dangerous and foolhardy.  More than likely, the beanie baby would have sailed behind us and been run over, or caught up under a car, or flung about the road like so much garbage.

We had no choice than to simply drive away from the tragic demise of Inch the Worm.

My daughter was distraught.  She was sure we’d find him when we drove that road again a day later.  Even with Inch’s neon coloring, we never did see tail or nose of him.

Of course, no other McDonald’s in the western United States had any mini beanie babies left by then.

Forever after that sad incident, when someone in the family warned someone else that their behavior was risky, or stupid, or that they ought to listen to the advice they were being given, these famous words would end the argument. “Remember the beanie baby!”

There would be laughter hiding a tiny heartache for what might have been.  It was a painful lesson.  It was a funny lesson.  It was unforgettable.

I’m pretty sure, when my daughter is a grandmother, someone will “remember the beanie baby” and the story of Inch the Worm will live again.

Categories: Humor, parenting | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Smile, and the World Smiles With You

Posted on December 2, 2012 by Kami

I’m not sure when it happened but I adopted a coping skill that is best described by a quote from a famous American humorist and writer.

“If you can’t make it better, you can laugh at it “– Erma Bombeck

I’m not sure why I started laughing, or creating a joke in stressful situations.  I didn’t decide I was going to do it.  I didn’t read about it as a way to alleviate tension or anxiety.  There was no epiphany where I suddenly saw humor as a temporary solution to contention.  It just happened.  Like jumping at a sudden loud sound, this was reflexive. When a friend pointed out to me that I had this ability to defuse a situation with humor, it surprised me.

I just don’t deal with anger very well, mine or others’.  Tears I can handle.  But anger unmoors me and sets me adrift.  I want to run from the room if someone is angry or mean or bitter.  I don’t like the taste or texture of anger.

I’m not much of a comedian. I might not be able to neutralize a bad scene for others, but I can alleviate my own internal reaction to what’s going on around me.

Sure, laughter isn’t going to bring us world peace, smiling might not cure hunger, being happy may not rid the earth of heartache.  But, I’ve found that looking on the shinier side of things, having a hopeful point of view is easier than the other options and makes the tough stuff more bearable.

Here are some great quotes on humor, laughter and smiling that say more than I ever could on the subject.  That’s why they’re quotable.  Enjoy.

Dealing with Life’s Difficulties

There is a proverb that says, “ A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.”

 “What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul.” -Yiddish Proverb

“The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.”  -William Shakespeare, Othello

“Life is like a mirror, we get the best results when we smile at it. “ -Unknown

Humor can improve your life in many ways:

“A smile is an inexpensive way to change your looks.”  -Charles Gordy

“Laughter is inner jogging.”- unknown

”Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.”  -Victor Hugo

It can sometimes forge or improve relationships

English: Danish American comedian Victor Borge...

Danish American comedian Victor Borge, in 1990 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“A smile is a curve that can set everything straight.” – Phyllis Diller

”Laughter is the shortest distance between two people. “-Victor Borge

“Everyone smiles in the same language.” – unknown

I hope you find a reason to smile, or laugh today.  If you have read a great article, blog, joke or story, or have seen a video or photo that makes you laugh, please share!

Related articles
Categories: Humor, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

How Are You?

Posted on December 1, 2012 by Kami

Just for fun, when the grocery clerk, or the bank teller, or the fast food server, asks my dad, “How are you today?” he often replies with “fair to poor” in a pretend whiney, worn out voice.  Then he smiles at them.  About half the time there’s no reaction.  Sometimes, they respond with, “Oh, sorry to hear that.” Sometimes they don’t know what to say but he can tell they were paying attention, because they seem to be searching for the correct response.

Here in the US, and many other countries, asking, “How are you,” is more of a greeting than an actual concern for someone’s well being.  It’s much like saying, “Good Morning,” or “Hello,” or “Nice Day.”

Smiley Face

Smiley Face (Photo credit: GreyArea)

The socially acceptable answer to “How are you” is “I’m fine, how are you?”  Perfunctory.  Pleasantries exchanged.  End of interaction.

It’s a tricky thing though.  The question seems like a real question, and to someone who’s having a less than stellar day, who might need a person to express genuine concern about how they are doing, it’s a frustrating exercise.

Sometimes, someone really is inquiring after your health, or well-being, and they’re prepared and wanting a full and honest answer.  Knowing who and when this is can be a tightrope walk.  Too much information is, after all, a bit awkward.

This exchange happening always humors me when I’m in a doctor’s office or worse, an emergency room.  Doctor walks in and says, “How are you today.”  Patient answers, “Fine.” Which is the expected answer, even in this situation.

“Well, no not really, I’m here, seeing you, a doctor, obviously I am not fine,” is what I’m thinking, and sometimes what I say out loud after answering with “Fine.” I’m thinking maybe doctors need to come up with a better question to ask a patient on entering a room.

There’s this great movie, “The Italian Job,” that deals with this quirky inquiry in a fun way.  I try to think of it most days when this question arises.  Some days it applies more than others.

It’s an acronym for the word FINE. The idea is that when one of the characters says, “I’m fine,” what they really mean is I’m:

Freaked Out.

Insecure.

Neurotic and

Emotional.

It’s what most of us are feeling about 50% of the time anyway, isn’t it?  Or is it just me?

If we crossed paths sometime, and you said, “Oh, hello, how are you?”  I could genuinely answer, regardless of the days’ ups and downs, “Oh, I’m FINE!” and really mean it.  I could mean it in the conventional way, I could mean it in the really having a great day way, or I could mean it the “Italian Job” way.

I’d put money on the “Italian Job” most days if I were you.

In the meantime, “Have a nice day! ”

Categories: Humor, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

Seven Steps to Organizing the Garage or Losing Your Sanity

Posted on November 30, 2012 by Kami

So, tomorrow is the day we follow through with AnClOuGaSoMo.  Annual Clean Out the Garage Sometime Month, number 4 from  Top Ten Reasons November is the Best Month Ever.

I know, I know, tomorrow is also the first day of December.  We put it off as long as possible to the point of procrastinating into December. You’d put it off too, if it were your garage.

I’ve toyed with the idea of sharing a photo of the disaster zone, but I don’t want FEMA, DES, HUD or PETA or any other government acronym  getting involved in our cleanup project.  (The only critters involved would be scorpions or other six or eight-legged creatures, no worries.)

Just imagine a storage unit, fully packed top to bottom, front to back with a narrow winding path in the middle.  That’s our garage.  A year ago we could almost pull a car into the space that now barely accommodates a small human body moving stealthily. How does this happen?

not a garage saleIf our kids are wise they’ll have their day fully booked so they don’t have to participate in the ritual rearrangement of our stuff.  They might show up briefly just to taunt us, but that’s treading awfully close to actually getting involved in the process, which is not fun.

Here’s how it will go:

1. We’ll take everything out of the garage and set it in the driveway.

I’m thinking of just making a sign that says, “NO! THIS IS NOT A GARAGE SALE!  WE’RE JUST CLEANING UP!!  Even with the sign we’ll have overloaded trucks, trailers and cars stopping to ask how much item X is, or offering to take the whole load off our hands for a stellar price of two hundred bucks. Tempting, but no.

2. Every person in the neighborhood will walk or drive past.

Embarrassing!  Don’t they have something better to do than gawk at how much crap we have accumulated?  I’m sure I’m just being paranoid here.  The garage door gets left open occasionally, they’ve all seen the chaos, the potential for disaster that lurks in there.

3.  A six-hour unmoderated debate ensues about what gets donated, what’s trash, what’s recyclable, and what we keep.

The question WHY? will emerge from my lips every forty seconds or so.  Why do we still have this?  Why don’t I let this go.  Why am I still digging myself out of piles?  Why can’t I keep it organized all year-long?  Why don’t I run away and live on a desert island with a volleyball and a loin cloth?

4. We’ll sweep out the garage and briefly revel in the joy of empty, usable space.

Then we’ll look out into the driveway and wonder where the matches and lighter fluid are.

5. Someone will get angry.

It’s inevitable.  No one wants their hoarding idiosyncrasies challenged.  No one wants to deal with the things we can’t manage to get rid of.  That’s why we don’t get rid of it.  One person’s trash is another’s treasure, or obsession, or neurosis.  I wonder if Dr. Phil is available tomorrow.

6.  An oversized, non electronic version of TETRIS will ensue.

If I think of it as a game, fitting in all the boxes and odd-shaped items (i.e., a papasan chair belonging to a daughter, the behemoth TV the size and shape of the first manned spacecraft) it might make it less aggravating.  Maybe I can devise a point system!  Now, if I could just figure out how to get the first couple of layers to magically disappear into the concrete I’d still be sane by evening.

7. I’ll think about creating the female equivalent of a man cave in the freshly organized space.

A writing desk up against the tool chest, a lamp hanging from the bike hooks, a bright-colored outlet strip to plug-in my computer, a comfy oversized… oh wait.  That would require more stuff. I could  just unfold one of the camp chairs when I want some privacy.  Set my mug on one box, kick my feet up on another, use the ugly orange extension cord, and write to my heart’s content.

That is, if I survive tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , | 6 Comments

Give In? Give Out? Give Up?

Posted on November 23, 2012 by Kami

This post is from a fellow writers group member. Please enjoy her talents and check out her other posts as well. You’ll be happy you did!!

Elizabeth Willis Barrett's avatartheotherelizabethbarrett

 

My Journey To “No, No, No, Not I!”

Elizabeth Willis Barrett

I jump on my bike early in the morning to beat the sun and the school kids who pointed at a friend of mine not too long ago with the exclamation, “Look at that old lady on a bike!”  Since I am at least twelve years older than that “old lady,” I am eager to be on my way and back before any school kids point at me.

Old lady.  I genuinely dislike that term.  My son-in-law used it regarding an associate who is at least three years younger than I am.

“She is not an old lady!” I protest. But in his eyes and those of many others, she’s an old lady and so am I.

“I don’t want to be old,” I think as I ride along the canal. Aging has captured my mind excessively lately.

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Categories: Humor, Wondering | 1 Comment

What is that Bird Thinking?

Posted on November 18, 2012 by Kami

I’ve been cold for so long I think I’ll never be warm again.  But I’ve been sitting in this sink filled with cold water for a few hours and the frost is starting to give a bit under my wings. I’m ready for some fresh water.

turkey for LD

turkey for LD (Photo credit: Collin Anderson)

The other turkeys said it would be awful to get roasted, but I can’t wait.  It will feel so good to get my legs warmed up, my insides heated, my skin nice and brown.

Roasted Turkey

I always knew I was destined to be an Arizona Snow Bird basking in the warmth, admired, respected, desired, craved, saved.  I’m a happy bird.

 

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Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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