This is a short piece about a woman who placed a high value on being a great homemaker.
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The wrinkles were deep, so Shirley pressed hard on the iron until she heard a scream.
Her husband arched his back. "Well, if you let me take it off it will be easier."
“Stop squirming," She turned the heat up. "I'm almost done."
War kills progress
Invades our life
Lives pay the price
Lasting memories of tragedy
Under attack
Kyiv bombed
Russia won’t back down
Alarming the world
Injustice kills Justice
NATO must act
Endangered times become normal
Starving the world of peace
Under constant threat
Reliving the past
Victory at hand
Ignorance a bound
Vindication by triumph
Everyone looses
?
In difficult times people often talk about needing an angel. A winged mythical,
spiritual messenger sent to protect you. Even those who are not normally religious start to
wish they had an angel by their side. I’m not sure, it could be a defense mechanism that is
automatically triggered when we feel down, but no one thinks about angels when
everything is going well.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen an angel, at least not as they are
described. I do believe in angels, but I'd call them everyday angels. You see them at the
grocery store, at the coffee shop, even at the park. They're the people who smile, wave
and engage in a friendly conversation sometimes even offering a helping hand loading
your groceries.
Everyday angels don’t need wings, they don’t need to deliver a spiritual message,
they just need to distract us from our problems. They are here to uplift our spirit, brighten
our day. They’re not looking for a reward or trophy. Everyday angels don’t know they
are angels. “Just Saying . . . “
I miss the destinies
The resolutions
Experiences
Dreams
I miss uncertainties
Successes
Failures
Lost friends
I miss adventures
Happy times
Sad times
The unexpected
Now I’m free
No responsibilities
No deadlines
No time to waste
Memories live on
Time moves forward
No do overs
Few regrets
I’ve had my time
But the record still plays
So I still dance
Just not the boogaloo or twist
I miss my youth
But the party’s not over
So I’ll strut my stuff
While the music still moves me
Hot coffee brews on a cold morning.
Fleece lined jacket smells of campfire smoke
Sausage sizzles in cast iron skillet
Sun breaking over snow covered mountains
Wind whistles through evergreens
Night’s silence broken by dawn’s arrival
Your sweetheart cuddles next to you
Aroma of dark roasted beans fills the air
She sips her coffee. “Sniff! Did you fart?”
I have become frustrated when trying to open a jars, bottles or anything with a cap that was tightened by a machine. When I was younger this was not a problem, but as I’ve gotten older my grip has weakened and opening a new catsup bottle to remove the seal is a problem. The seal is another problem. There’s an eighth inch tab that supposed to allow you to remove the seal. Really, the only way I can remove it is my teeth, but I’m not sure if that’s a Covid approved technique. I should ask Dr. Fauci, I’m sure he would have an opinion. Sometimes it’s easier to just stab the seal with a steak knife and cut it off.
Old people find ways to do things when they are blocked but traditional methods.
Opening catsup and mustard packets and soy sauce, are just a few things where your bite strength comes in handy. Dr Fauci is old too, so he may use his teeth, but only with his mask still firmly attached.
Our new kitchen tools include a needle nose pliers, and an adjustable wrench.
These two new kitchen tools take care of ninety percent of the problems. The red string on the cheese packets rarely works and the ziplock seal never lines up correctly. So that’s another fail. And I don’t know what kind of NASA plastic they use on Cheez-it bags, but it’s super strong . . . until it finally lets loose and the bag self destructs. Save yourself time and frustration. Just cut it open.
I am proposing two options for grocery stores. The first one is to have a special
section for seniors, called “It’s Already Open.” Everyone else is catered to because of all the complaining they do. Why not seniors? We need an aisle or two dedicated to old people. The concept is that every product is opened then gently closed. Sure, there’s a higher chance of spoilage, but we’re old and have gone through lot in our life, so what’s it gonna hurt. We’re the garden hose drinking generation.
The second option is to have a young person with big forearms posted at the
checkout or roaming around the store who would open all the jars and bags for senior citizens. Tips accepted for this service. “Just Saying . . .”
The news paints a picture of a dangerous world with mean and selfish people. The world can be dangerous and some people are mean and selfish, but I do not live in that world and have not met those people. In fact it’s the exact opposite.
My recent experiences have have proven to me that there are many more friendly and helpful people in this world. It’s not what the news media or Facebook might show, but I believe those sites only show the worst parts of society.
Over the past couple of months I have experienced the kindness of strangers. In all these cases the only reward they expected for their kindness was a smile and thanks.
A few months ago I was at Walmart buying tabbed dividers for a binder. I waited in line behind a middle aged black lady. I greeted her and asked how her day was going. She smiled and responded and as quickly as that we started a friendly conversation. We shared a laugh but I don’t remember what it was about. As she was checking out she picked up my dividers and said, “I’m going to get this for you.”
I said, “That’s very nice, but it’s not necessary.”
She insisted saying, “It’s important to do something nice for someone. I want to do this for you.”
I couldn’t refuse. I thanked her and we chatted a little more before we parted ways.
This act of kindness made her feel good and me as well. It wasn’t the $1.67 cents, it was the connection with another. It made my day, that a stranger would do this for me. I talk to strangers all the time, because I enjoy the smiles.
We were in Arizona recently on vacation and had reservations at a nice restaurant. Our table wasn’t ready so I went to the bar to get a glass of wine. The bartender served me as I sat on a barstool next to a young couple. My cousin signaled me he was going back to the waiting area. I said “I’ll be right there as soon as I paid for my wine.” I flagged the bartender for a bill, she acknowledged my request. It was a busy night, so I waited holding my credit card. Just then the young Hispanic man next to me said “I got this for you. I’ll add it to my bill.”
I was somewhat flabbergasted and thanked him for the gesture but politely refused. I said. “Thanks, but it’s really not necessary.”
He said, “I want to do this. I like to do this once in awhile. It feels like the right thing to do.”
I thanked him, we exchanged names then fist bumped. I told him thanks again and said I would say a prayer for him.
Again, I walked away feeling great, even though I had done nothing, but allow someone to buy me a glass of wine. As I said earlier it wasn’t about the free wine, but the unexpected human connection. It’s hard to refuse someone when they say. “I want to do this for you.”
Just the other day Mimi an I were watching our granddaughter, Stella. After going to a movie and spending some time at the park, we stopped to get three small ice cream cones at Lions Choice. While waiting in at the drive up I dropped my money clip and it slid under the seat with all the lost books, cracker crumbs and only God knows what else. I hopped out of the car and tried fishing around under the seat for my money clip. I found many things but not what I needed. Mimi didn’t bring her purse so she would be of no help paying. The line was moving so I moved the car closer then jumped out to search again. No luck. Then the young lady in the car behind came to help. She said she has small hands and might be able to find it for me. She reached in a quickly found my money. I thanked her jumped back in the drivers seat. I paid for the ice creams and paid for the young lady’s meal. It was the right thing to do. She caught us at the stoplight and thanked us for buying her meal. We said you’re welcome, we were happy to do that for her.
Yesterday morning I went for a walk at Veterans Memorial park. I go there frequently. It’s a friendly place and close by my house. My daughter, Maureen, commented how friendly the people were at this park. I agreed and my story will show this.
I walk three or four days a week and meet many people at the park. As I said I like to talk to people and most don’t seemed to mind chatting and some may be like me always trying to connect with others. I greeted a few people on my walk, and frequently we pass a second time on a different part of the trail. I nod the second time without a greeting, but this young black girl commented how well I was doing. I laughed and said I was going to walk to the bench then decide how much longer to go. We chatted a little about the trail and weather, then she asked how I was doing. Maybe because I was using hiking poles or because I was an old guy. I said I was doing fine for a 73 year old. I had a few aches and sore muscles and joints but over all pretty good. She ask if she could pray for me and asked my name. I gave her my name and said I would never turn down a prayer. Her name was Hermine and she stood with me and prayed for my health. In turn a did the same for her, thanking her for her kindness.
To some this may seem weird, but it didn’t feel like that. We wished each other a great day and continued our walk. Now you can call me crazy but I walked away with a little more spring in my step. Was it the prayer, the pleasant conversation or the kindness of this young lady. I don’t know but what I do know is this is the reason I talk to strangers. All four were strangers, one older black lady, one young Hispanic man, a young white girl and a young black girl each brightened my day.
I talk to strangers. It’s what I do and it’s better than social media. “Just Saying . . .”
