Keeping Your Head Up Hoping to Dance

For some people waiting around to complete a task seems to be the best way for them to accomplish it, in addition to accomplishing it well. These same people often need to have something of a timer tick-tocking nearby in order for them to have their own inner fire flamed. Some call these people procrastinators; others call them perfectionists (for similar, yet not the same, reasons).

These are not my people. I accomplish the same tasks, & best, when I'm optioned to take my time. I can work well under pressure, I am deadline-driven, & I can put my nose to the grindstone & purely focus on what's most important on my to-do list...That is, my hypothetical "to-do list".

I work hard to not permit any of my to-do list to get "inside my head". I lose this battle quite often. I think all of this is much of why I made my 2018 motto (which I tend to not have annual mottos, either 😜), to not make a task out of living my life.

The responsibility of adulthood can be wearisome, although I believe, if overthought just a snag, this wearisome-ness is mainly due to having "too much". Whether it's gluttony, or keeping many possessions, or never saying "no" to those who request of you & therefore, keeping too busy a schedule &, in time, "running ragged".

And then this song pops into my head. It's a song that kept me somewhat spirited during my high school running years. It was not a popular song of the times; it was simply a song I knew of having a particular line within it, that, would I think of it much while lapping the track, (or, keeping on wherever), I'd contentedly manage to continually keep on placing one foot in front of the other.

This isn't a pun & yet it's both literal & figurative. And it's the "run" of adulthood too. Believing in one's own "goodness", "strength" & "aptness"; that for which we are quite qualified, & where we are ready, willing, & eager to excel.

It's about letting the little things go. And then I remember a book I picked up at a church's flea market during my tween years: this book. And, like many other tweens (& "tweens" of all generations 😎) I bought the book, had it around, made it a part of the right-next-to-the-desk stack "knowing" it'd soon be read, or at least skimmed through, or, at the very least, flipped through. And like many others still, I consider now that I truly hope when I purged a handful of boxes of books to a library book sale about a year ago, I hope, really, really hope, that I bothered, that I just went ahead & included that particular book to those donation boxes. 😜😂

It's not that this book was written or published for the purpose of never really being actually read. It's that I know, for almost absolutely certain, that I, in this current "life space" of mine, won't be breaking the binding in any more than it was when I scooped it up out of the box in the old high school on the church's property. Maybe, just maybe, it's because I got out of the book everything I needed to - just in reading the title itself.

That title rings in my ear just as ferociously as does the headline verse from this song while I'm running a long distance in otherwise silence.

It's because I've already embraced that minding the (slowly, creepily rising) price of gas at-the-pump isn't going to stave it off or "coupon" the bottom line. I'm not embracing or "celebrating" it; I'm merely not permitting my blood pressure to rise as a result of recognizing & acknowledging it.

We can all plan. We can make to-do lists. We can discipline ourselves & accomplish miniature & major goals we set for ourselves in every miniature & major way possible. We can also work on focusing just as much as we focus on working. (Are you working hard or hardly working? 😎😜😂)

When the gentle balance is found somewhere in between all of these things, when a deep sigh is had, & a smile gently sweeps the cheeks of the earned while their eyes dance in glory & justice...They've accepted their girth and/or accomplished...Whether that be finishing a personal project, one at work, receiving accolades, or finding that somewhat creepy word: contentment.

Then being asked to interview for (& being offered!) a "dream job", running 20+ consecutive thirteen minute miles well in advance of an upcoming scheduled marathon sans pain or injury, glamorously wearing that dress & heels (or boots! 😊) that just happen to match so well together while being out-n-about "people watching" & having "carefree timelessness" to actually "take in" life for its moments, keeping your "head up" so "you can let your hair down" (click here for the upbeat tune 😉😁😄), happening upon a house on a quaint street in an attractive neighborhood that will be both "safe" & "wise" for which to reasonably relinquish one's savings account...& realizing that this is all what is truly "living 'the dream'".

*****

Diane Keaton's character in this movie wished for each of her children to know their personal worth & to find love, happiness, & family...Not with the wrong person...& not to just get married for the sake of getting married because their mother was dying...Even if each relationship isn't to truly gel before she passes away. To be themselves while receiving & being welcoming & loving. This is, in part, why she responds to Sarah Jessica Parker's character asking, "What's so great about you guys?"

"Nothing. It's just...it's just that we're all we've got." with Rachel McAdams character nearby.

With Rachel's character then adding, "We're not so great."

Which leads Sarah's character to cry out, "And you! You're the worst!"

Rachel's character then asks inquisitively,"I'm the worst?!" as she slides on raw eggs & falls to the floor; Diane's character yelps from the hilarity of the scene (aka "the moment"). They are "them", though they'll love you just the same.

And as she casually made sure to take the minutes to watch & acknowledge the snow falling...on Christmas Day (thus her last Christmas is a "White Christmas").

All we are & all we do is all that we have. And that's all that we've got to make the most of what we can...

...When you get the choice to sit it out or 🎜🎝🎜🎝 ... Because it truly is ... all. small. stuff.

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Knee Slappers, Perhaps?

Perhaps just some select "groaners"... In any case, read on:


Me: "So I'll be picking up my new glasses in the morning [said days ago]." "That's a good reason for the sun to rise tomorrow."

Other Person: "Will you be getting new ones?"

Me: Only polite way to verbally respond to this question, "Could you rephrase your question?"

Other Person: "Will the frames you'll be picking up be different from the frames you've been wearing?"

Irony of this interaction & my getting "new" frames is that, as I have had a very ideal frame in the past, I have marched back into a frame retailer, showed them the coding on the inside of the frames I'd been wearing for several years, & asked them to check their stock drawer for remaining of the same - which did work out; I was able to purchase, yet again, that same, amazing frame. Thus, my more recent struggle of these past few years which I've strived to not become burdensome & weary for me.

*****

Asked upon picking up a sheet of paper from the printer's tray, "Did you print something?"

In a place where there are no color printers. I asked, "Is it black & white?" Because the sheet of paper printed had a dominance of black background with white characters on the top half of the sheet, & white background with black characters on the bottom half of the sheet. So, this is me laughing at myself post-haste. I believe I actually did slap my knee upon realizing that the sheet I'd printed, was, in fact, definitely both black *&* white!

*****

His family is expanding & finding the best name for their next son is the task. After the explanation of how their first-born came to be "Tommy"...

"Our daughter's name is 'Lily'. It isn't spelled with two 'Ls'."

Me: "You realize that's similar to someone saying, "'I got a haircut.', rather than, 'I got my haircut.'"

"Right. Our daughter's name doesn't have two 'Ls' together."

I've a fascination with names, their origin, their meaning, their popularity (both in general, & generationally when they're popular). I've had this fascination since I was quite young; in fact, I can remember when our elementary school class ordered books from a catalog. I got two or three in that first order & one was similar to these. I was fascinated (& still, to this day, am)! I remember learning that the name "Karina" is of Latin origin & means "Pure", while the name "Karen" means "Pure one." "Karen" is of Greek origin & is derived from the name "Katherine". This is what I learned from the book I had, & isn't necessarily what current books might have published.

*****

In a large group of 50+ men where many are bald, nearly bald, or frequently shave their heads, overheard, "Celebrate it." Where the voice is that of a man who's facial frame & haircut/hairstyle is similar to Ralph Malph. (Images here.)

Me: Walked to other side of doorway. "Kool & The Gang sings about that." (Click here for the album & song link.)

Ralph look-a-like: "Is that they one where they sing about 'dancing to the music' too?"

Me: "'Cel-e-brate good times. C'mon." "'We'll be dancing, yeah.'" "No. Different songs." "I'll have to 'Wikipedia' it later." (Click here for the album & song link.)

Ralph look-a-like: "That's gonna bug me." Comes out of next door room. "I looked it up. It's Three Dog Night." (Click here for the album & song link.)

Me: Entirely different song. "'Celebrate, celebrate. Dance to the music.'"

Ralph look-a-like: "Got to celebrate your hair. If you've got hair, you need to let it be 'free'; celebrate it. While you've got it, celebrate it; let everyone see it. I never wear the ball cap. Only the winter cap; it holds the heat in the head."

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Not Greed, Nor Entitlement, Definitely A "Wonder"

And a very unintentional motto I’ve taken to now for the past several years would be one that’s been said by many for a very long time, “Never say never.”

The number of things which I’ve done, & in most cases, very proudly so (i.e., I also intend to do again) which I’ve done in these last several years is many more than worth accurate tracking.

One of these things many might think is natural, quite fine, & a very decent thing to do; it’s likely something that they’ve also done. That is, I became a movie theater patron on Christmas Day.

It went a little something like this. I needed some time for me; I needed to treat myself. The nearby theater happens to offer their weekly discount day on Mondays, which happened to be Christmas Day. And the theater was showing the third & final of the three-part series for this movie. (Which, when I heard that it was, couldn’t figure out how there’d be a plot, so I became intrigued to see it, in part, just to learn what the writers would make of the plot in order to continue the storyline.)

So my movie theater viewing for Monday, December 25 became an apparent, win-win-win (-win?) 😂

I saw the movie. I enjoyed it. The timing during the day worked out well too. I got back in my vehicle & got to see some of the traffic (both people & their vehicles) that becomes of the business that is Christmas Day at a movie theater. I learned a lot. And in a very good way.

Then I began “planning”. This is when I tend to trip up & go “overboard”. “Planning” means that I’m likely on the verge of making a task out of life. 😎 Things went so well on December 25 that I decided to aim just as high for January 1, another Monday, another movie theater discount day.

I began to turn the way of negative when I realized, after taking the time to watch the trailers of each of the remaining movies at that nearby theater, that none of the others were of great enough interest to me to either spend the time/money at the theater, nor to make something of the “free time” I had because I didn’t need to be anywhere else right then.

Wishing to remain as positive & forward thinking as possible, I researched current movies & watched another trailer or two. I learned that another, not-quite-as-“nearby” theater (really it’s just in the next locality, so no ‘big deal’) happened to be showing one of these other movies. I had a point to drive to that area, & so I did. It was mid-day on New Year’s Day & a jam-packed parking lot as well as a jam-packed theater lobby. The clerks efficiently managed the line & I quickly became next up. I asked the clerk the movie’s cost & ultimately decided to see it. It was sold out. Seeing a movie in a theater on New Year’s Day instantly became something I wasn’t meant to be accomplishing.

My New Year’s had been off to a rocky start for another reason or two & I became determined to not let my intentions for this new year become parched, waivered, or diminished.

I continued on with my week. Sunday came & I realized I’d be nearby that “other” theater again. I walked in & asked if my selection had already sold out; it hadn’t. The cost had an apt matinee price affixed to it. Bingo! Score! 😊

Seeing it solo, I got into the theater & began scanning the back row (which, in these modern theaters is up in the back from where patrons enter on the side). Plenty were seated in that far back row. I spoke up & inquired if all of the seats were spoken for; they weren’t. The teens & tweens (as well as their families) with which I sat next to said there were two seats left. It appeared I claimed the final seat of the row. Another bonus to solo movie theater viewing. 😎😊😏.

This movie is one for which I cannot wait to own the DVD. I called Mom as soon as I let the theater since she & Dad are always looking for good ideas for me for gifts & told her about watching the movie & my eagerness for the DVD; she giggled.

I cannot wait to watch it again (although, unless someone else paid my way, I wouldn’t view it again in the theater – for one reason, time, for another, needing to save my hard-earned money). It’s beyond simply a “great message”. It’s well written & nearly the same writing as this book from which it’s based (I’ve not yet read it, though I’ve solid word from a few teens who have 😎).

Bringing tissues is a must. (Go ahead, click here for the kind that travel well in your pocket or purse. If you'll be staying in & watching it on your own big screen, click here for the kind that sits nicely on your coffee table or end table - or even your nightstand. 😁) Fortunately I carry something in the way of tissues in the tiny cross-body strap bag I typically have with me. 

It touches the heart & soul of so much. As much as this movie's underlying theme is “Greed”, this movie touches a bit on “Entitlement”. One student’s mother mentions during her quip in the principal’s office words which [hopefully] no one wishes to hear & [hopefully}] causes most everyone to gasp. I wished to pity the character only in that the example for which she [unintentionally & unknowingly?] sat there setting for her teen son was of embarrassment & entitlement.

I’d like to think that anyone working in customer service understands the “backlash” of such thoughts & actions. And, yes, many other occupations as well. 😎

We are all “us”. We are all beautiful as we are. We are all a “wonder” of existence & a marvel upon the world & society. It is about what we make of it to make something great out of what we become.

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For Time To Not Be A Task

Over the years I’ve watched plenty-a-movie (in a theater, that is,) solo. That’s right. I’ve purchased my own ticket, walked on in, & sat all by myself. I began doing this when I lived nearby a theater which had $1 & $2 days. This particular theater had handicap seating in its back row. I enjoyed these seats because they also served well for someone who happened to be there on their own; oftentimes the handicap spaces had just one actual theater seat next to them. This seat is where I’d sit.

*****

I’m not one to have “mottos” per se, yet this year I’ve truly defined one that fits me to a tee: “Make that which is life not become tasks, rather, opportunities.”

I simply wish to focus on not treating most everything I [have to] do as something which is a task, & rather to [well, this is an exaggeration:] embrace the moments, embrace the encounters. Notice what’s right there. Anything could be the “next best thing” for me.

Part of the climax of this movie is when Shirley MacLaine’s character says to the main character played by Julia Stiles, something like, Why is living your life so difficult? “Makes me think you’re living someone else’s life.”

For a rather long “several years” I wore a pair of glasses which I enjoyed so well & fit my face, style, personality, etc. so well that I checked with the company again & purchased the same exact frame for my next prescription. Fast forward to two years ago. I needed to renew my prescription. I also knew what was important to me in my frames. Unfortunately, based on many circumstances, the effort of attaining what would become my next pair of frames became so much more than a “task”. It became “work”. I denied it vehemently to myself. I recognize it as what it is now. I have for quite some time. It’s my mission to make sure I do not continue this “habit” as anything close to constant. It’s not healthy. It benefits nothing. It’s not “meant to be”. It serves no one.

What resulted was that I picked out a pair of frames which contained most of what was important to me. The rest I subconsciously figured would “work itself out”. It really never did.

That’s because I didn’t “require the best” for myself. The glasses I got were a frame which is has been too big for my face. They’re too wide; they’re too “long”. As someone who noticed my glasses & understands facial structure pointed out, they cover too far down on my face, too much of my cheek bones. (I’ve prominent German cheekbones from my German ancestry, the same as my Dad.) I’d selected these frames because they do not contain the “cat eyes” “pinching” at the temple which isn’t flattering to the shape of my face. I also selected these frames because having substantial “optimal peripheral vision” has always been something that’s mattered very much to me. These two-year-old frames have provided this.

And yet…at the beginning of last year, after I visited my beloved eye doctor for my annual eye appointment, I realized how important it was for me to get another pair of glasses. Even if I kept my trusted plastic frames for on-the-job & all things encompassing what is my work, where having great “peripheral vision” is of the utmost importance. I don’t struggle to think so much. I look straight out, I look down, I look around. All is as it should be. Just the way I like it.

Now here I am with another pair. I went for quick & satisfactory. Ok. I should just outright admit it. I simply went for cheap. I found myself a pair of wire frames. These were to be my “out” glasses. I’d wear them as needed to get used to them [read: a few weeks of headaches & then I was fine] & then they could be the frames I’d wear when I’d be “out & about”.

I’d wear them in these same moments which I’d been “rushing” through all along. These wire frames are light blue & didn’t “take over” my face as my “one-year-old” pair did. Being “wire” they’re a thinner frame than a plastic one & therefore more attractive, less overbearing on my facial construction & my features.

Though since they’re not “top notch” quality, very soon after having them adjusted I find myself constantly pushing them up my face. The strands for the ears must need another ¼ inch or so. Refreshing the nose pads works well, that is, for the moment.

They’re a better option than my now two-year-old pair when I’m out-n-about. They’re a more current prescription & they do better to show my face; my true self.

They’re still not “the right pair”. I settled for cheap & I definitely received it. I’m still learning. We all are. What I learned is that I need to make an adventure, not a task, out of finding an ideal frame for my face. A plastic frame is still the way to go. I need to accept that peripheral vision isn’t going to be possible, at least not to a super great extent. A frame with coloring (shading?) which is similar or matching that of my hair color seems to be best.

When I approach an eye glass store & an associate does their job to check up on me I say I’m that I’m “roaming” & briefly explain my scenario & what I’ve discovered is best for me.

Anything is possible. Knowing what is best for myself is important. Embracing the moment & the possibilities & not making a “task” out of the situation – that’s how to not miss out on what’s right in front of our eyes.

I found an ideal pair of brown plastic frame glasses. As I sit here, yet again pushing my blue wire framed pair of glasses up the bridge of my nose, I think to myself, “Just under ten more days until I’ve ‘eyewear relief.’” 😂

Yes, I’m excited. ❤😁😉 

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Breaking The Fast

There were also times during these early mornings, when I’d rise early to shovel the snow for Dad before he left for his workday, where I’d also be that ambitious to also make him breakfast. I’m talking about a hot breakfast. One where I used mixing bowls (like these & especially this).

Typically, I’d do something with this & maybe also make up some eggs. At the time I really only had familiarity with making scrambled eggs, except for these. Dad was flexible with his eggs &, while he’s always had his preferences, he’s also always been fine with eating whatever variety he’s served. Actually, that’s about how that goes for most any food with him; he’s generally flexible & grateful for whatever’s available.

I remember one particular morning where I decided to make Dad breakfast. It went just fine like all the others normally did. Sometime afterward, probably just after Mom finished seeing Dad off to work, I happened to hear my brother saying to Mom about how he’d really been hoping for this hot breakfast to be the next morning.

I suppose he’d planned to probably suggest in the awkward, you’re-my-kid-sister-&-you’ll-probably-be-fine-with-it,-but-I’ve-still-got-to-ask,-&-maybe-you’ve-got-some-sort-of-current-adolescent-resentment-upset-right-now-where-you’d-rather-stick-it-to-me,-but-maybe-not,-I-don’t-know sort of way he normally would talk to me when the family sat around the dinner table together, that I might be willing to do this.

I also think that, as he realized I’d just done it that morning, there’d be such little likelihood that I’d do it again the following morning. Thus his quick discussion with Mom.

Mom quietly & calmly suggested that he ask me if I’d do it. He must’ve shrugged his shoulders & realized there still was that option.

Not too long later, I think before we even left for the school bus, he did ask me. He might’ve figured I’d not want to get up & get going quite so early again. He would’ve been thinking from a single-minded angle as he was the one that was difficult to get up & out of bed each morning, while I was the one oftentimes quite literally sitting around waiting for whichever late in the morning bus stop time I'd been assigned. In those days I'd not been good at ingenuity of these sorts & multi-tasking; I'd be too anxious. I'd not even think to be crocheting.

I remember same as I feel now about his request: Why not? No big deal to me. Might as well.

And so I did.

Two days in a row.

I got up much sooner than I needed to & mixed up everything for a nice hot breakfast.

I don’t think that these mornings amounted to more than a dozen of our childhood. With Dad typically being an in-the-moment casual, laid-back kinda guy, these random hot breakfast mornings were treated like just about any other.

Mom would do her best most mornings to sit with him. On her best days she’d get up before Dad headed downstairs to the kitchen & she’d begin preparing their respective hot beverages. This brand or this brand for Dad; this brand or this brand for Mom as manufacturer's coupons ran rampant for each of these. 😁 She’d get two microwavable mugs set-up with their contents & microwave them for a minute & a half; a 1, a 3, & a 0.

It wasn’t until years later, sometime during the college years, when, back in their kitchen, that she “proudly” showed how she’d begun pressing the 1, then the 3 – twice, for one minute & thirty-three seconds. She had true excitement (at least, generally speaking, it was a “chilled out” excitement) that she’d realized for a mere three more seconds, she’d not need to move her hand that far for the zero anymore; it was perfunctory. Yes, these were the days before the minute automatic button options were added as well as the “add thirty seconds” button option. 😍😂

Other mornings she struggled & didn’t share any of Dad’s “table time” with him. On at least one of these mornings when I bothered to pull this out from underneath the counter, or this out from the oven's drawer & get our hot breakfast going - probably that time my brother had asked for a hot breakfast the following school morning, that time, I do remember, despite Mom not being a morning person, she came downstairs to join us too.

Dad gave her a gentle razing exclaiming something like, “Well! Look who decided to come down & join us!” Which, with his “local” accent, sounded more like, “come dahn & join us!”

At some other point during that breakfast, as a compliment & thanks to me, while also still sort of razing Mom, Dad said to her, “Been trying to get these breakfasts for years. I didn’t think it would be our daughter beating her mother to the punch.” 😂

I don’t remember exactly who managed each of these days’ clean-up. I’m guessing Mom; she managed breakfast clean-up on ordinary school days. 😊

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Reflections When There's White

In my adulthood (especially my most recent years of adulthood) I've learned that I'm truly not concerned for myself much while out-n-about unless there's actual precipitation. I mean I’m pretty good at managing my way about the roadways as long as there’s no ice or snow or sleet or hale around to rumble with one’s self-esteem. That’s not too much to ask. Right? 😂

Growing up Mom pouted when it snowed & we’d not leave the house unless there was something important happening. Especially as Dad would be the one behind the wheel. I’m sure this is most of why I became unconsciously timid regarding the white stuff sitting around unwanted when it came time to be commuting.

Then there were the glory days of the white stuff when I was a kid. No, I don’t mean “playing” in it (well, we do have a few memories of doing that too! 😊); I mean when Mom began waking me up in enough time to get our front walk cleared off in so that Dad could make his way to the family sedan & get to work on time.

Despite my somewhat claims...considering my affections for all things camping...I'm not a "country girl". This apparently makes me a "city girl", which I believe I'm not either. Though there's no classification for a "suburban girl", which I am.  😏Our family had a typical suburban house & yard - including our front walk & driveway. 😊

Eventually I was to clear off the driveway around the sedan too. Some of this was how much time I’d need to get it all finished before Dad had to get going. Dad’s kids, as he’d learn once we’d reached adulthood, were natured & nurtured to be just as meticulous as he is. I’d make it my quest to get every square inch, square speck 😂, out from under & around the sedan’s tires. I had a good method of how to properly hold & angle the shovel (this is the type I started out using).

Eventually the joke became, much in the same way as it was for a new lawnmower bag as my end-of-summer birthday gift, that I’d be getting a more modern, more efficient shovel (like this one) as my Christmas gift. Mom & Dad were all smiles, & not so serious; they kindly got the shovel – in general. After all, I wouldn’t be the only one to be utilizing it; if the walk needed to be shoveled, & I was busy otherwise, then someone else would have to be out there bending & scooping. (We didn’t live in a “snow pushing” kind of region. 😏)

It really was mainly the “overnight snow” that I’d be helping dig the family out from underneath. Back at that time our front walk was the only way to get from the house to the driveway, which included a decent-sized parking pad for two vehicles. Typically, the family sedan, which got better gas mileage, & since for most of Dad’s career, he drove upwards of an hour each way to work, Dad would drive the sedan & leave the other vehicle, the family minivan for Mom in the case that she’d need to leave for an errand, an emergency, or anything that would be happening with us kids while Dad was still away at work. (Folks, these were the PRE-mobile phone days & look at how well we survived .😏😉😂)

When the weather was inclement, these two vehicles switched places on the parking pad. Mom would make every effort to not need to be out & about as she preferred having Dad drive her when it snowed more than a dusting, & this way the sedan Dad would be driving to work would be the first vehicle right off the front sidewalk. It worked out well.

This plan worked great for years. It probably began somewhere around my mid-elementary years. Likely once my personality had formed enough that I was the “morning person kid” & would gladly welcome the early wake up & then the joy of the quick cat nap I’d get to appreciate when I had remaining lag time in between finishing up outside & not having much to do before needing to get to my bus stop.

The really awesome part, however, is rather juvenile. It came once it made sense for me to get the sedan’s car keys & get the car warmed up for Dad. This way he wouldn’t have to sit in it after the walk & driveway were already so simple a walk. I think it began that there were that many inches of snow on the windshield & I’d be fetching brushes (like this one) & scrapers (like this one) from their stow spots inside the car. This was basic & just more being meticulous; this wasn’t the thrill.

When I’d become encouraged to get the sedan started I’d not yet learned about the windshield wipers, as in, where the toggle was on the right-hand side of the steering wheel, etc. I’d no real way to get everything cleaned up from the inside, which wasn’t necessary. I would simply start the engine once I was encouraged to do so…& I might have been encouraged to switch the dial to defrost too. This I could understand fairly well as we’d already been accustomed to that dial during “air-conditioning season” for many years. 😂

Now here I am in my adult years &, while I still believe in being meticulous, (& I am), I also believe in watching the digital light tell me that my vehicle’s safe enough to drive away…& I use the windshield wipers while I turn the dial to defrost once the vehicle warms up sufficiently to do so. I’ve gotten better at leaving myself enough time between when I’m ready to go somewhere & when I need to be going somewhere, in so that I treat my vehicle well & can adequately have the engine warmed up. Even if it’s just a matter of preparing my beverages for the day, or getting all of the bags together that I’ll be taking with me, after I turn on my ignition. 😁

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"...When I'm Finished".

About a year ago I took advantage of a simple opportunity. I’d been spending plenty of time at a particular library. This library kept their DVD selection in turn-styles very near the study desks, or cubicles – the desks which are lined up alongside power outlets for those who plan to stay enough that they’ll need to recharge.

I spent a lot of time at these desks. I walked past these turn-styles a lot. This movie in particular stuck out to me because, back when it’d originally been in the theaters, I remembered seeing the television previews frequently & quickly became interested. I never made it to the theater to see it. Here it was in the library. Almost taunting me. Available for checkout. I had a library card. Bingo.

After watching it, & I did enjoy watching it, I quickly found myself turning the styles on each of the alphabetically organized DVD racks standing tall between the question desk & the studying desks. I found this trilogy & watched all three.

I then happened to see this movie & found it appealing. I was working on finishing up something I’d been crocheting & popping in one more movie would be helpful.

Working in customer service the word “entitlement” becomes bold. Most everyone is looking for their extra "coupon" or discount if they just make that one. more. phone call, then they've a chance for someone to pick up that slack for them.

This movie, which leads to a trilogy of its own walking the viewer through a storyline of love via a few generations of family, serves to express how having a task, learning it, learning how to do it well *&* making the work of that task the embodiment of one’s character while completing it, is satisfying. This "effort" is what brings purpose, meaning, & definition to the phrase about each of our tombstones when "they" say, "it's about what we do with the time during the 'dash' in between the numbers" (indicating the year of our birth & the year of our death). Such as this & this.

These movies are great & it's nice to watch this nostalgic version, although it's a bummer that Drew Fuller doesn't play the character "Jason" in each; it breaks the momentum up a bit despite the character having much fewer scenes.

"Just remember eight feet from the center."

"What?"

"Lunch will be set about 11."

"Well how far am I supposed to go?"

"Don’t worry, you’ll run out of posts before you run out of Texas." "I wish I had a dollar for every fence post I ever set." "Matter of fact I do."


"Whatever it is I have to survive [it] until…when I’m finished."

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