Spreading Calm

Yesterday I was at my local pharmacy when an elderly gentleman walked up fuming because they did not have his prescription filled in the time frame they promised. 

I could see that the pharmacy staff was absolutely swamped. His particular prescription required a call to another party and the pharmacist just had not had time to make that call. The gentleman sat down near me to wait some more. I could tell that he was not a happy camper. 

So, I decided to engage him in conversation. Soon, he was no longer fretting about his medicine as he told me about his late wife, his children, his jobs, etc. I was able to keep him talking until the pharmacist could finally make the call (and was put on hold for several minutes) and had his prescription ready. 

Many people do not realize that most of the delays in service in a retail environment have little to do with the staff on the floor. The corporate office only allows so many hours for employee scheduling. It is usually not enough, especially in the pharmacy. 

I actually find myself trying to spread calm quite a bit when lines are long and people are impatient. Or when their orders are wrong in a restaurant. A smile and a bit of conversation can diffuse situations that could get ugly. Fussing is not going to make a line move any faster. If someone appears to be in a tearing hurry and I am not in any kind of rush, I let them go ahead of me. A little kindness can go a long way. 

Back to pharmacists, they have one of the toughest jobs that I can imagine. Not only are they tasked with filling prescriptions, but they often have to call doctors, give flu and shingles shots, and go out on the floor to help customers decide what they need for a particular ailment. Often there is only one pharmacist on duty with only a couple of techs to help. They have people at the drive-through window, the consultation area, the drop off, and the pickup section. And everyone wants their medicine yesterday! 

So be kind to those pharmacists and other people who serve the public. And if you can help someone else be kind, do that too. It's worth it. 

Lookin' Good

One of the most recent things on Facebook is the "How Hard Did the Years Hit You" challenge. Participants are encouraged to post their first and current profile pictures side by side. 

Most of my friends have been on Facebook for around 10 years. Without exception, they look better in their current photographs. At least to me, they do. Even with a few extra wrinkles and/or gray hairs, everyone looks more relaxed. The smiles are more genuine. 

There are things about getting older that transcend mere looks and it shows in these photographs. There seems to be more wisdom in the facial expressions. More acceptance of life as it is. More of a "this is how I look now and that is OK with me" vibe. 

I remember some commercial for hair coloring back in the '70s that featured the tag line "You're not getting older, you're getting better." 

Believe it. 

Eyeglass Chains

I just ordered this eyeglass chain from 220PennyLane on Etsy. 

I seem to remember making fun of little old ladies who wore eyeglass chains when I was a kid. I seldom saw the ladies who wore them actually take their glasses off, so I thought they were just another piece of jewelry. And quite often worn on top of too many other baubles. 

Alas, time has caught up with me. I find myself taking my glasses off dozens of times a day. Despite my expensive prescription for progressive lenses, I can often see some things much better by removing my glasses and squinting. Often, there is no good place to put my glasses as I juggle them and whatever I am trying to read at the same time. So, this evening, I decided to give in to "old ladydom" and buy an eyeglass chain. I searched Etsy until I found one I liked, and reluctantly pushed the "buy now" button. 

No drugstore faux metal chain for me. If I am going to do this, it will be in style. 

Sixty IS the new 40, right? 

Loungewear?

Recently I saw an ad for plus-size lingerie in my Facebook feed. It said something to the effect of relaxing in style. This "style" was an underwire bra and form-fitting underdrawers! 

Honey, there was nothing that looked relaxing about THAT getup! 

When I want to relax, I want as little fabric next to me as possible. Granny panties and some big ole, loose-fitting jammies are much more my "style." And they don't even have to match. I am not wearing a bra unless I am leaving the house or expecting company. In my book, there is nothing about a bra that is relaxing in any way, no matter how comfortable the ad says it is. 

Come on, plus size companies. Get real. 
Seriously. 

Bryan

The photo on the left was taken last Christmas. The one on the right was taken yesterday.

My nephew, Bryan is in graduate school for electrical engineering at Mississippi State University. He has an assistantship as well as a full load of classes. As someone who did the grad school thing twice, I know how hard it is to get to a gym and count calories while juggling the rigors of post grad education. 

I had the privilege of driving Bryan home from Starkville yesterday. We talked about everything from comic books, to music, to movies, to which writing style was required for engineering papers, to where his childhood friends are now. 

The sweet, shy child I remember has become a confident, articulate young man who values friends and family. He knows what he wants in the future and has a plan to get there. He has also inspired his decrepit old Auntie to do something about her own weight. 

Keep up the good work, young nephew! 

Missing Dad

Seven years ago tonight, my Daddy passed away. Bill and I had been sitting with him in the hospital and had just been relieved by my brother-in-law. We went to get a bite to eat, and headed home. Almost as soon as we walked in the door, the phone was ringing. Daddy was gone. 

I truly believe that, on some level, a terminally ill person is able to make some choice as to his or her time of death. All three of us kids had been there when my mama died. I honestly think Daddy waited until my calm and cool brother-in-law was there before he took his final breath. I also think that he waited for my niece to get home from college to say her goodbyes. 

I never realized how much I would miss this man. And how much of him is in me. He was a social creature who had many friends and loved to visit. Daddy loved a good joke. He also had a great time razzing his Ole Miss friends when their football team was beaten by his LSU Tigers. I have his coloring and his hazel eyes. I have his sense of fair play. I try very hard to be honest and upright in all my dealings, just like he was. 

Happy 7th Heavenly Anniversary, Daddy. 

That RED stuff!

One Thanksgiving, when my brother was just a tot, he looked at his dinner and asked where the "red stuff" was. 

Puzzled, my parents and grandmother began trying to figure out what this "red stuff" was. Ketchup? No. Cherries? No. Spiced apples? No. None of those were the "red stuff" my brother was looking for. 

Finally, it was discovered that the cranberry sauce was not on the table. Mamaw found the can in the refrigerator, opened it, and put it on its little crystal tray. 

My brother apparently lit up like a Christmas tree and pointed to the cranberry sauce. THIS was the RED STUFF he had been wanting. 

Now, every Thanksgiving, we tease him about his red stuff. I don't believe it has ever been forgotten since that particular Thanksgiving Day. 

Make sure you have your "red stuff" and Happy Thanksgiving! 

Cell Phones

"If he's THAT POOR, how can he have a CELL PHONE???"

"If she has a CELL PHONE, she has to be doing OK!" 

I see this kind of thing all the time on social media. To some, when someone is poor, having a cell phone is something that they just don't deserve. How dare they have access to this pretty much necessary device if they are not working, are homeless, or owe someone money? What if it is a "hand me down phone" from a friend or family member? Could someone else be paying the bill? What would one of us give up before we gave up our cell phones? 

These days, there are few pay phones and landlines are disappearing as most people turn to cellular service only. The days of being able to go to a neighbor's house and use their phone are pretty much over. 

Contrary to popular belief, affordable "lifeline" phone services were begun by Ronald Regan, not President Obama. 

A cell phone enables people to live in the modern world, especially if they live in an area without a nearby library. An unemployed person can create a resume, apply for a job and be able to receive a call about it on a cell phone. A mother can receive a call from her child's school in case her child becomes ill. People can get news of road hazards that can help them avoid being part of an accident. A person with irregular work hours, as many low wage jobs are, can do things that usually require being available during certain hours, such as banking. 

I just can't find it in my heart to begrudge anyone a cell phone. Even if some of my tax dollars are helping to pay for service to low income and elderly folks, I consider it money well spent. 

Don't put up those shorts!

As usual, Mississippi has gone straight from Summer to almost Winter in the blink of an eye, sending us scrambling for the long pants and jackets we had stashed behind the capris and T-shirts. There was no gentle glide into Fall-like temps with maybe needing a light jacket after sundown or a lightweight, long-sleeved shirt during the day. Not in Mississippi. 

Anyone who has lived here very long also knows not to stash those Summer clothes too far away. We may very well need those shorts, t-shirts, and sandals at Thanksgiving. Or even Christmas. I hear people from other states talk about putting away their Summer clothes for the Winter. My Summer clothes are never far away. 

The same goes for Winter clothes. I remember a Summer when I was in grad school the first time around where I actually needed a sweater in June. So, it is not really safe to put all the Winter clothes away either. Of course, we have had some Winters where I never really wore what most would call Winter clothes. 

Buyers for our local stores don't seem to get Mississippi. Heavy wool clothes are out in showrooms in August when we are sweating to death and can't even imagine cooler temperatures. And most of the things are going to be too heavy for all but maybe 3 of our coldest days? Some of those buyers need to spend a year down here! 

I have heard the saying all my life "If you don't like the weather in Mississippi, give it a minute, it will change." The same goes for my wardrobe!

I'm sure none of my friends have ever gone from 90 to 55 when they saw a State Trooper. As for me...I'll never tell! 

Mocked

Merriam-Webster defines mock as to "treat with contempt or ridicule." 

This past week, I have heard survivors of sexual assault mocked, joked about, derided, and scorned. This was not just about Dr. Blasey Ford. This was an assault on all survivors.

On social media, everyone becomes an "expert." I wanted to scream when I heard people (who I know are not counselors or psychologists) profess to know exactly how a survivor should remember incidents in perfect detail. In reality, (I am a retired licensed professional counselor) it is not unusual for memories to be fragmented and incomplete. I saw this in my own practice as well as in my own life as a survivor. 

Don't even get me started on the memes about being terrified that boys will be falsely accused and have their lives ruined. Statistically, fewer than 5% of rape accusations are fabricated. 

When tRump mocked Dr. Blasey Ford at the rally in Mississippi, I wanted to reach through the TV and slap him silly. And I wanted to slap the people cheering and clapping behind him. Especially the women! How can they turn on their fellow women like that? 

Personally, I am deeply disappointed in some people I used to at least call casual friends and one or two that I felt were close friends. I honestly hope I never see them again. And there are some local people who I hope I never meet face to face. I don't need these kinds of people in my life. 

I did not tell my story until 16 years later when I went to counseling after the death of my mother. If I told my story now, would I be similarly mocked by these people? After all, the evidence was washed away that night or healed over time.

I have no proof but my word. 

And, apparently, that would mean little to some folks. 

Purple

"Is this purple?" The man asked me, holding up some crepe paper, as I was passing by him in a craft store. "Yes", I replied. He thanked me, explaining that he was color blind. He was decorating a gold tree in purple, those colors being the team colors of his wife's alma mater, Alcorn State University. 

I left him to go get the few items I was looking for. Then I went and found the gentleman again. I told him that I had plenty of time and that I would be glad to hunt for purple things with him. He told me that I was an angel and we proceeded to find all manner of purple things for his wife's tree. As we looked, we chatted and found that we had some acquaintances in common and we talked about all manner of things. I never meet a stranger. 

After we had secured tiny purple clothespins, purple pipe cleaners, purple beads, purple feathers, and a purple boa, it was decided that there was finally enough to trim this Alcorn tree. I wish I had exchanged phone numbers as I would have loved to have seen the finished product. I hope his wife approved. 

As an artist of sorts, I can't imagine not being able to see and identify colors. I am so glad that I was in the right place at the right time to go on this entertaining purple expedition. 

Why We Stayed Silent

Back in the sixties and seventies, one did not talk about sexual assault. Or, if it was talked about, it was in whispers, accompanied by the shaking of heads and the clucking of tongues.  

The victim was almost always blamed. What was she wearing? Was she somewhere she was not "supposed" to be? Had she "led him on?" In some schools, the victim could be kicked out if an assault became common knowledge because she had to have "asked for it." 

Is it any wonder we stayed silent? Our minds trying desperately to somehow "normalize" our situations, while our bodies and souls bore the scars. Counseling was something that was not common back in those days. We had no idea where to get help, or that help was even available. We came home, took showers that did not make us feel clean, and lay on our beds, curled up in fetal positions. 

We became pretty good actresses. We went to class the next day as if nothing had happened. We pasted on smiles. We couldn't understand how no one could see the pain underneath. 

Only much later, often in therapy, did we finally realize that we had to face what had happened to us. Nothing ever really goes away. It is always below the surface, shadowing our lives. We still get tears in our eyes when we hear and read of another victim being blamed. Even today. 

Is it any wonder we stayed silent? 

The Sound of Music

Last Sunday, I took my 25-year-old niece, Amy to see The Sound of Music on the big screen. This movie came out when I was 6 and I vaguely remember seeing it at the Trace Theater in Port Gibson, MS. My mama bought the soundtrack and I remember listening to it over and over and memorizing all the songs.

I saw The Sound of Music again on the big screen when my friend, Teresa and I went to a Sound of Music Sing-Along. People dressed up as the characters and were encouraged to sing along. We were given a bag of props to use during the screening, such as white flowers to wave during Edelweiss,  and a "popper" to use when the Captain kissed Maria for the first time. 

This screening was a treat. There is just something about seeing this movie on the big screen. There were so many details that I could see which are lost on a smaller screen. The twinkle in Christopher Plummer's eyes as he played the Captain, the details of the gorgeous outfits worn by the Baroness, and the majesty of the church where the Captain marries Maria.  

I got goosebumps when Maria began twirling and I smiled so much during the movie that my face hurt afterward. It has been a long time since I enjoyed a movie quite this much.

If you ever have a chance to see The Sound of Music on the big screen take it. You will not be sorry. 

Feeding Critters

My husband feeds critters. 

If it walks, runs, waddles, or wanders into our yard, my husband is going to feed it. 

I have often wondered what people would think if they came into our house when we were not here and saw bags of doggie treats...and no dogs. But, Bill keeps them on hand for the neighbor dogs who have been known to come right in and make themselves at home if the door happens to be open. This has been going on pretty much since we moved to our home 33 years ago. 

Bill does not stop at just feeding dogs, though. He has been known to feed the geese from down the road when they occasionally waddle into our yard. He had a squirrel who would sit on the feeder and eat out of his hand. 

Recently, I noticed that the $6.00 a bag shelled walnuts that I buy for Bill seemed to be going faster than usual. When asked about this, my husband replied that he was now sharing his walnuts. He has to feed the chipmunks that come up to our back steps their breakfast! They come and get it every morning. I'm looking for a cheaper source of shelled walnuts!

If you are hungry, come on over. I'm sure my husband will feed you too. 

Encouraged

Merriam-Webster defines encouraged as to inspire with courage, spirit, or hope. 

I have found it necessary to "snooze", "unfollow" or in rare cases, "unfriend" people on Facebook who insist on posting steady streams of unsubstantiated political garbage (this goes for BOTH sides of the aisle). I just get tired of seeing the same old stuff. I have fact checked it all on multiple sites, and very little, if any of it, is true. And what purpose does it serve? 

But, lately, I have gone back to these hidden friends pages and noticed a trend. Fewer people seem to be jumping on the hate wagon. Most of these posts get one or two likes, are almost never shared, and seldom commented on. Maybe I am not the only one who is tired of the constant negativity? And maybe, just maybe, some people are beginning to think before they pass on questionable, hurtful, and malicious things? 

There is a saying that "Hurt people, hurt people." I fervently hope that maybe there are fewer nasty posts because the people posting them, commenting on them, and sharing them are not hurting as much inside. 

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Arguing

I have never really liked to argue. Growing up with a mom who was a "yeller", I don't like raised voices and words said in the heat of anger. The cliche is true. They can never be taken back and are more lasting than physical blows. 

The older I get, the less I want to argue. I just don't have the energy for it. My limited energy is much better spent in happier pursuits. 

For this reason, I try to stay away from putting things on my personal Facebook page that are bound to start folks to bickering. If I do want to discuss an issue with someone who is mature, I prefer to do it in person or at least in a private message. 

There are some people in my life who make comments to try to bait me into arguing with them. I have tried to make it clear that I am just not interested. These folks are more invested in "winning" than anything else. That can make for an awfully lonely life.  

I am passionate about many things. Art, music, politics, good books, and my faith, to name a few. The likelihood of my changing anyone's mind about anything (especially those at my age and stage) seems pretty slim. I adore much of the work of Saint-Saëns. My husband is not a fan. I cannot understand this. He would much rather hear a Sousa march. Arguing with him over this would be an exercise in futility. 

Don't get me wrong. I love a rational discussion on any of the subjects I am interested in. I am just not interested in arguing with someone for the sake of arguing. 

I have always loved this quote. 

Argue all you want. I will be painting, singing, reading, writing, and choosing to be happy! 

Recovery Musings Part 2

This would be a bit funnier if it were not quite so true right now. However, things are getting better. As my post-surgical pain finally gets better I am able to sleep better at night, which is helping the brain fog. My respiratory therapist reminded me that it takes some time to "pay back" a prolonged sleep debt. If you are curious about sleep debt, check this out.

https://sleep.org/articles/say-goodbye-sleep-debt/

I have officially "graduated" (for the second time!) from Scott Robbins Physical Therapy. I love the atmosphere in his gym. The folks there are mellow but extremely competent. They got me back to pre-surgical form and I am thankful to be back to my version of "normal"   https://scottrobbinspt.com/

Speaking of normal, I now feel like I have my real life back. There were times these past 3 months that I began to wonder if I would ever feel like myself again. It is funny how pain took over my life for the first couple of months to the point where I could not focus on much of anything else. I did not feel like doing any art. I did not feel like reading for very long. There were times when I did not want to talk to anyone (unusual for me, I know!). All I could do was watch the clock and wish time to go by quickly so I could take another Extra Strength Tylenol. Looking back, I probably should have taken the Rx painkillers for a bit longer. But, hindsight is 20/20.

I am looking forward to a couple of short trips in the fairly near future. I'll be turning 59 in October. I want to take advantage of having two good hips to get some things done that I have wanted to do for a couple of years, but have been in too much pain to consider. I still have limitations, but now I have one less to deal with. 

At least I haven't had to drop my pants lately. That may change when I see my surgeon on Monday. I guess he likes to check on his handiwork. If I did work that nice, I probably would too! If anyone reading ever needs a hip replacement, this is the man. 

http://www.capitalorthosports.com/matthew-c-futvoye-md/

Tell him I sent you. 

Opinion vs. Fact

“A fact is a statement that can be proven true.” “An opinion expresses someone's belief, feeling, view, idea, or judgment about something or someone.” 

On Social Media, I constantly see memes about one having a right to one's opinion. I totally agree with this. OPINIONS are not a problem. 

 When opinion is presented as FACT, without substantiation of any kind, and is unkind, unnecessary, and untrue, 
I do take issue with it. If it is your opinion that Nickleback is the best band ever (hopefully not!) that is fine. I may not agree, but that is your opinion and you are entitled to it. 

However, if you present, in your opinion, that the Earth is flat, I take issue. Eratosthenes, a Greek mathematician, proved that the earth is round over 2000 years ago. And if that is not proof enough, one of Magellan's ships (sans Magellan who was killed during the voyage) made it around the world. And, if THAT is not enough, pictures have been taken from space that clearly show that the Earth is round. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaYPkJU7iTQ

Take the time to check the facts. I try to be careful about what I post, but every now and then I post something that turns out to be bogus. I appreciate it when someone posts and lets me know. I don't want to be that person who spreads false information. It is pretty normal to want to morph opinion into fact in order to fit it into our personal belief systems. Especially when we are being presented with evidence contrary to our preconceived notions. Take a page from Aretha's book (God bless her!) and THINK! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HqYnevHibaI

Magic Strings

I have been a fan of Mitch Albom's work for a number of years. I thoroughly enjoyed The Five People You Meet In Heaven, For One More Day, and Tuesdays With Morrie. 

However, this book, The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto, absolutely blew me away. The narrator is music and the protagonist is introduced at his own funeral. 

Albom makes the character of Frankie amazingly real, starting with his dramatic birth in a burning church during the Spanish Civil War. He is essentially raised by a blind music teacher and given a guitar with six precious strings. Sent to America as a child to escape the war, his tale is told in his interactions with other musicians of his era, from Duke Ellington to Elvis. Gifted with phenomenal talent, Frankie becomes a pop star himself. But is it enough?

The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto did a lovely job of taking me away from the woes of the present world and into a world of music, passion, and fantasy. For me, it is Albom's finest work to date. 

Legally Blonde (Brag Alert)

**Brag Alert**

My niece, Amy has just finished a run in her first leading role at Vicksburg Theater Guild as Elle Woods in Legally Blonde, the Musical. The entire cast was absolutely wonderful, but I want to take this chance to brag on Amy for a bit. 

Amy has been dramatic ever since she entered this world with Strep B and pneumonia, spending her first 10 days in the NICU at Women's Hospital in Flowood. It was touch and go for a while, but Amy made it. There were some lingering issues from the strep infection, most noticeably, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Amy also inherited the family history of depression and anxiety, partly from her Aunt KK (sorry Amy!). 

To see Amy, as an adult, overcome these issues to be the kind, smart, and talented woman she is today is joy beyond measure. Legally Blonde has been a real test of her determination and willingness to work hard at the craft of acting. Amy will be the first to tell you that dancing is NOT her forte'. (Sorry again, Amy! KK can't dance either!) However, she has learned all these dances and held her own against the other young people who have dance backgrounds and even dance teachers. Her pretty singing voice is getting better as she works on it doing these theater productions. 

As for acting, Amy has been doing that since she was old enough to talk! I was always amazed at her ability to quickly memorize the shows she watched on videotape. One thing that I did not expect is just how funny Amy is onstage in her roles. I have enjoyed seeing this new dimension of my beloved niece. 

I did theater back in the 1980's and early '90's. I made friends that I still cherish (alas, most of them have passed to that great Greenroom in the sky). I gained confidence that I do not think I would have had without being a part of VTG. I hope Amy reaps these benefits as well. 

Enjoy every minute of your theater experience, Amy. You're a natural!