My husband is a stamp collector. Over the years, I have learned a lot about stamps but to be honest, talking about stamps is pretty much a snoozer for me.
The terminology is exhaustive and exhausting. Hinged. Not hinged. Fine. Extra fine. Plate blocks. Hidden watermarks. Perforations. The words keep coming at me on a daily basis.
The other day, my husband was talking and I was not listening. I was reading a book and wishing I could stay in my happy place. But being a dutiful wife and not wanting to appear rude, I responded occasionally with a “That’s nice.” or “Uh huh.” or “That’s interesting.”
As his monologue continued, some of his words began to register. “Friend.” “Scantily clad.” “Sushi.”
I thought, “whoa, whoa, whoa!” pay attention! This is not his ordinary postage stamp conversation.
I put my book down and said, “Could you tell me that again?”
Husband: “Sure. Our friend went to that sushi place across from the family restaurant on the west side.”
Me: “That’s nice.”
Husband: “When their food was ready, a woman sat on their table and reclined onto her back.”
Me: “Uh huh.”
Husband: “She was scantily dressed.”
Me: “That’s interesting.”
Husband: “Then the waiter came and placed the sushi on her body. Her bare skin was their platter.”
Me: “Well, I sure hope she exfoliated.”
I have sheet music which has been displayed in my home these past 25 years. The music originally sat on my piano to entice people to sit down and play. When we gave our piano away, a few years ago, the sheet music landed on top of our rolltop desk. And there it has sat, year after year.
Each time I pick up the music to file away, I look at the words and gently place it back onto the desk. The music, you may have guessed from the title of this post, is ‘Let It Be’ by John Lennon and Paul McCartney.
The words to this song bring back childhood memories of my grandma. She often encouraged us to “Just let it be.”
When the water wasn’t boiling and I wanted to lift the lid for the 10th time she would say, “Let it be.”
When my siblings were nasty and I wanted to take out my righteous revenge she would say, “Let it be.”
When I was dressed up and fidgeting with my hair and clothes she would say, “Let it be.”
For grandma, I didn’t have to let go of my anger, worries or fidgets, I just had to let them be. Grandma taught me about acceptance, patience and choosing my battles. She encouraged me to engage my brain in all situations, before reacting with reckless emotion.
How did she get away with this? Humor. She helped me find the humor in these situations as I learned to stem my impulsivity, walk away from conflict and sit still with my hands in my lap.
For 2015, I am reminding myself to Let It Be.
Happy New Year!
Wishing you a joyous Noel!
The older I get, the more I focus on the weather. Every morning, I check the forecast. I want to know how the day will unfold meteorologically speaking. Then, I check the extended forecast for the days to come.
During the day, if any weather event occurs (wind, rain, sleet or snow), you will find me checking some weather source. I want to see the current radar. I want to watch the radar in motion, both past and future.
I find comfort knowing about the weather. I don’t like weather surprises. I want to be forewarned about snow-covered roads, freezing rain and possible drifting.
The other night as I was getting ready for bed, my husband, who was watching the weather, called out, “There’s a winter storm warning!”
This was unexpected. I thought we had calm weather in the forecast. How could there be a winter storm coming?
I hollered, “Where?”
He replied, “In Maine.”
Exasperated, I countered, “But we live in Wisconsin!”
He said, “I thought you’d want to know.”
I’ve had the same hairstylist for several years. Once you find that perfect hairstylist, you will travel a long distance to keep your stylist. Mine happens to be about 90 miles away.
A while ago, I was sitting in her chair at the salon explaining a new color and cut I wanted to try.
Me: “I want to add some red highlights and go shorter in length.”
My Stylist: “No! That is a horrible idea.”
Me: “Well, I brought a picture. Take a look. I think it would look great.”
My Stylist (tossing the picture on the counter): “That cut would not look good on you and you can’t possibly want that color.”
Me: “But I do. I am ready for a big change.”
My Stylist: “Nope. I won’t do it.”
Me (sputtering): “Well, I am the one paying you to deliver what I want.”
My Stylist: “No, you are paying me to look beautiful. Let me go mix your color. I will be right back.”
And with that said, she disappeared into a back room. I slumped in my chair when I noticed the woman sitting in a chair next to me.
If you could have seen her expression! She was stunned. She was outraged. She was ready to file a complaint on my behalf.
The Woman: “She was really tough on you. You have to say something! And if you don’t, I will!”
Me: “Well…..I’m pretty sure she only talks that way to me. You see, that stylist is my daughter.”