Thankful for... waiting for my turn

Photo courtesy of Carol Brown.

I am not a patient person, particularly when it comes to waiting for my "turn".  Traffic rattles my nerves, I dislike lines at amusement parks, and I would never ever be one of those people who waited for the release of the newest iGadget.  So, patience, not one of my strong suits.

But today, there were a couple of instances where I was happy to wait.  First off, the polling place.  Hubby cautioned me that we timed our trip to the polls poorly, and might have to wait in line.  Our wait was momentary, but I have already heard tales, which I expect I will hear late into tonight, of people waiting in very long lines to vote.  While this may be inconvenient, I find it a happy problem to have.  Long lines mean more voters, more people actively engaging in their rights, more people invested in freedom, more people making their voices heard.  (Consequently, we did have an extensive wait for the Election Day deal at Subway, and again, I was glad to wait, because, well, it is Subway.  Mmm.)

The second instance, in which I did have to wait, involved a trip to the grocery store after we voted and ate. The place was a madhouse.  I am guessing everyone had the same idea as us.  We were picking up groceries that we will be donated later in the week, so I really wanted to take my time to consider my purchases and be cost effective.  As we approached an aisle that contained a lot of staples (rice, soup, etc.), I noticed that the aisle was completely blocked by two people.  As I got closer, it became apparent that the blockage was being caused by a woman in a wheelchair, and her companion with his shopping cart.  The easiest way for them to communicate about what she needed or wanted to purchase was for them to be side by side in the aisle.  Unfortunately, it took up the entire space in the aisle.  For a split second, my patience wore thin, until I realized the teachable moment in this situation.  Here I was, healthy, walking, independent, waiting my turn while someone with physical difficulties was getting what she needed the only way she was able.  I humbled myself, and patiently waited to advance into the aisle to get what I needed.  The other end of the aisle was getting jammed, and people were getting cranky.  The woman seemed flustered and embarrassed that she might be inconveniencing people.  When she glanced my way, I smiled at her, and told her to take as much time as she needed, that I could wait.

In a society where gratification is instant, and information travels at the speed of light, I am thankful to be reminded that some things are worth waiting for.  Me needing to wait simply means that someone else is getting what they need, and that puts me in the perfect time and place to receive my destiny.

She totally "gets" it

For Christmas, my niece Abbie got a cell phone.  She and I have been carrying on text conversations every day since she got the phone.  She is really good about asking if I am busy or if it is a bad time to talk, so I always try to take time to talk to her.  Last night she was a little disappointed that a project she was working on did not turn out, and I was trying to cheer her up.  Here was what she said in reply:

This is the part where I tell you she is 11 years old.  At 11, she "gets" it better than a lot of adults I know.  I am so proud of this girl!  

Over Christmas, my brother and Hubby and I all remarked how much she is maturing, and you can see glimpses of the young lady she is becoming.  It makes me so proud to see what a beautiful girl she is, inside and out.  My sister and brother in law have done such a great job raising their kids.  

We always joke that Abbie is so much like me, and I tell everyone I have taught her well.  But this just goes to show, there are things that Abbie can teach us all.

That awful moment when you learn a lesson the hard way

Photo Source

I have been a cell phone owner for 12 or 13 years.  For the first few, I never really used the cell phone much.  So, for about 10 years I have been an avid cell phone user.  For the last several year, we have used cell phones exclusively, without having a land line.  I use my phone to track appointments, write grocery lists, to track calories, and as my alarm clock.  So, my cell phone is pretty much my main way to keep track of life.

As long as I have been an avid, daily cell phone user, I have always talked on the phone while I was in the bathtub.  It was a way for me to relax and talk to my mom or my girlfriends.  Never, ever, not once, have I ever gotten even a drop of water on my phone.  Sometimes, I even use my kindle or tablet to read in the tub.  Again, never a problem, because I am super careful.

I guess there is a first time for everything.

The other day, I was taking a bath to de-stress.  I had tried to call my mom, and was unable to reach her, so I sat the phone on the edge of the tub (like I have done a million times).  At precisely the moment I took my hand away, my cat jumped up and knocked the phone into the bath water.

I just could not move fast enough to prevent it.

I wanted to throw up.  And strangle the cat.

Quickly, we removed the cover, tried to dry out the phone as best we could, and put it in a container of brown rice for 24 hours.  Miraculously, the phone does seem fully functional.  In the time where my phone was drying out, I had to use an old one, which seemed so clunky, so I am glad to have my phone back.

I have completely learned my lesson.

My cat will no longer be allowed in the bathroom.

Going Rogue?

Any regular reader of this blog, or any of my friends and family members know that I am notorious for chancing my hair.  Often..Very often.  Sometimes the changes are subtle, like my last round of highlights, and some are drastic, like chopping off 6 inches of hair the day after my wedding (and dyeing it dark brown from bleached blond a few weeks later).  My brother in law says I change my hair more than anyone he knows.  What can I say, it keeps life interesting.

Sometimes, it keeps life a  little too interesting.  Last week, I was feeling bored with my hair, so I bought some dye.  Now, remember, I had bleached blond highlights.  Well, I was in a rush, and did not pay much attention to the color name on the box I chose, I only knew I liked the color.  Apparently, I chose a cool color, which is a no no when putting color over bleach.  I rushed home, colored my hair, and when I washed and dried it, I was dismayed to find that while the base color was a gorgeous chestnut, my blond highlights were now silver.

In a nutshell, I looked like Rogue from X Men

Picture Source

Since I have no mutant powers or energy stealing abilities, and there is no way this body is ever going to look good in a latex superhero suit, I decided this was probably not the best look for me.  I posted a Facebook status about it, and one of my friends told me how to fix it.

You can bet your sweet patootie I was up at 7 am the next day to go to Walmart and find a lovely shade of brown hair dye labeled as a warm color.  It is a bit darker than I originally wanted, but what the heck, fall is on its way.

Never a dull moment for me, I am telling you.  Next time, I know to check the shade.

Thankful for... blissful ignorance.

In some ways, I am so stereotypically female.  I like to cook, and love that I am a housewife.  I talk a lot, particularly with my girlfriends, and put on lipstick while I drive.  I could single handedly set the feminist movement back 25 years.  And one way I am very stereotypically female is the fact that I know next to nothing about cars.  I did not even pump my own gas for the first 5 years I drove.

Last night, I had driven to Greensburg to visit my friend Lindsay, who was having a candle party.  I had not seen her in while, so I was super excited.  It was the first time I made the drive from Kittanning to Greensburg without my Hubby, so I had to use the navigator on my phone, so, that and the road was where my attention was focused.  My car had been shimmying a bit lately, and I figured it was out of alignment was all.  So, I get to the party, and have a fabulous time.

When I go to leave, however, I notice my tire is making a thumping noise, not the flap of a flat, but still, not normal.  I pull over, and look as best as I can in the dark.  To my uneducated eye, it looks like some nylon cord is stuck on my tire, so, I pull it off, and notice my tire is starting to shred.  I call Hubby (it's past 9 pm at this point, and I am an hour from home) and we decide that I should slowly, carefully, try to drive home, and we will get new tires in the morning.

So, I get back to Armstong County, and stop at our friends' home, where Hubby had gone for board game night.  We again look at the tire, and decide we will definitely be going for tires in the morning.  Still not terribly concerned, I take a few moments to enjoy the gorgeous evening, and snap some pictures.

This morning, we get up bright and early, head to Sam's Club, and get new tires.  Hubby followed me down, and commented that he felt like we were on the episode of Grey's Anatomy where they have to move the patient with live ammunition inside his body.  On the way home, I call my mom to tell her what happened.  At this point I am thinking I had picked up some cord somewhere that had been littered, and that was what was on my tired last night, causing the thumping.  As soon as I explain it to my mom, she says "Tiff, you drove the tires down to the threads".  That's right, the nylon that is inside the tire.... that is what I pulled off.

Photo Credit

Needless to say, that shook both me and Hubby up quite a bit. Were are both glad the situation turned out ok, and I made it home safe.  I personally am glad that I did not know how bad the situation was when I was in the thick of it, or I would have been more of a nervous wreck than I already was.  And now I have 4 very healthy tires.  From now on, we will be checking them more regularly.

It is true, what they say.  Ignorance really can be bliss.

16 Candles

Today, my nephew Austin turned 16.  How time does fly.  I myself was only 16 when he was born.  I remember thinking how tiny and perfect he was, and now, here he is, a handsome, caring, talented young man.  Recently, I blogged a letter to myself at 16.  What a different world my 16 year old self lived in, a simpler time where our high school drama was confined to our hallways as opposed to being splayed across the internet for all to see.  I wonder how I would fare as a teenager today.  All in all, I say my nephew fares better than most kids, but I chalk that up to my amazing, tight knit family.

Austin has wonderfully supportive parents in my sister and her husband, and while his little sister Abbie likes to compete with him and pester him (as any good little sister would) she loves him a ton, as evidenced by the birthday breakfast she was making him when I called their house this morning.  And Austin has always has a very close relationship with my parents, who not only babysat him and his sister frequently over the years, but helped teach them a lot of the skills and life lessons they have needed along the way.  My mom helped teach Austin a lot of his academic skills, even before pre-school, and my dad helped teach Austin some of the "guy" stuff like fishing.  My dad is who helped foster Austin's love of the guitar, and now Austin is a talented musician in his own right.

When Austin was born, I was in high school, so we got to spend a lot of time together.  And even when I was in college, I lived with my parents, so again, I saw him almost daily.  When Austin started talking, he could not say my name, so he gave me the nickname Nini.  It stuck, and to this day, he and Abbie call me Aunt Nini.  I always figure he thinks I am old and lame, so the fact that he is my friend on facebook makes me smile.  Austin and I have always had a close relationship, mostly because I do not act like I am 30 something when I am around him, I usually am acting like a big dork.  And I try to remind him that I have been where he is now.

If I could give Austin some advice for how to get through the next couple of years, based on my experiences, here is what I would say:

Have fun during high school.  Do not be in such a rush to grow up and have adult responsibilities, it really is not as fun as it seems.

Moms know a lot more than you realize.  You may not see what your mom is trying to point out now, but you will some day.  Trust me on this one.

Your family will go to the ends of the earth to protect you.  It is a blessing.  Trust me.  I would have been lost without my family over the years.

That first paycheck is NOT going to be nearly as big as you think it will be.  Get used to that.

Living at home to save money is totally worth it.  Talk to me and Uncle Steve if you want more details, we both did it, and seriously, it was worth it.

Dream big.  I know it sounds cliche, but do it.  However, have a plan B.  Just in case.

Do not experiment with hair dye.  Again, trust me with this one, you have seen how many different colors my hair has been.  I am not even sure what my natural color is anymore!

Most importantly, stay true to yourself.  Over the last 16 years, I have seen you grow from a sensitive, friendly little boy, to a loving, intelligent young man.  I have watched you go out of your way for your friends and your family.  I have watched you go from dancing to country music to playing heavy metal on your own guitar.  I am proud of you, and all you have accomplished, and I am anxious to see what all you will achieve in the years to come.

Happy Birthday Austin, I love you!

All my love,
Nini

A look back

Last night, I was at dinner with my friends Kacy, Chris, and Lindsay, and I was talking about how my blog persona is different from my Twitter persona, not vastly, but still, different, because my followers on each are different.  My blog is more family friendly and family oriented because that is the type of audience my blog readers are.  My Tweeps, on the other hand, are mostly Pittsburgh people, so my Pittsburghese comes out a lot more on Twitter.

It got me wondering if people think I am being fake on my blog.  Do I seem too nice, too much of a do gooder, too good to be true?  Because trust me, I make mistakes, and I am hopelessly, and beautifully, flawed.  So I thought I would open up a little and share an example of a more personal story of why I try so hard to be kind, to do good, to be a better person.

It is, in part, because of a girl.  A woman really.  But I am going to call her Girl M.

Girl M and I met at one of my past jobs.  I am not the type of person to get very chummy with people at work.  Sure, we make work friendships, where we go to lunch and stuff, but it usually ends there (with the exception of when I was a social worker, you had to form friendships with those people to maintain sanity, and many of those friendships last to this day.  Love you Lindsay!).  So, in this cut throat corporate setting, I was really surprised when Girl M and I struck up a really good friendship.  She was a young mom, and she loved to cook, so we would talk about recipes, and a few times we would hang out for dinner or what not.  We both were miserable in our current positions, so when I moved to another department, I encouraged her to move over as well, and when she did I was ecstatic.  We developed what seemed to me to be a really good friendship, and she was actually one of the biggest proponents of me dating Hubby when we were stuck in the dreaded friend zone.

Then, something awful happened.  I put my job ahead of our friendship.  I was gunning for a promotion at work, and the process was ridiculously long and drawn out.  As a result, I was getting pretty desperate to prove I was worthy of the promotion, and was trying harder and harder to show myself loyal to the company.    When a situation arose that involved Girl M, I handled it, well, poorly does not even begin to describe it.  Girl M felt completely betrayed, and our friendship was destroyed.  And while I still do not know what the correct way to handle the situation would have been, I know that it certainly was not the path I chose.

So, of course, I get the promotion.  Which meant I was now going to be Girl M's supervisor.  It was so tense and uncomfortable.  She felt totally unsupported by me as a boss, and I felt totally ineffective as a manager.  It got worse and worse, with more and more bad situations arising as the weeks went by.  Finally, she decided to leave the company completely.  Not long after, I stepped down as supervisor, as it was clear management was not for me.  It was not just Girl M.  When it came to the reporting and analytics side of things, I rocked the house, but when it came to actually dealing with the people in my department, I stunk up the joint.

I will never get a chance to tell Girl M how sorry I am.  I am sure she really does not care anymore, nor do I think she would want to hear my apology, but none the less, it still bothers me that the whole situation happened.  I am such a different person today than I was back then, and I guess I wish she knew that.  It is awful carrying around the burden of an unspoken apology, and not one that I enjoy.  It is much more pleasant to get to bestow goodness and kindness upon the world.  So, that is what I chose to do.

I hope Girl M has a wonderful, happy life.  I hope she finds goodness and kindness.  I hope she spreads kindness to others.  I hope the whole thing comes full circle.  And I hope I do not make the same mistake again.

Dear 16 year old Tiffany

Right now, there is a topic trending on Twitter (say that 3 times fast) that encourages you to talk to your 16 year old self.  After a tweet or two, I realized I had a lot to say.  So, here goes.

Dear 16 year old me,

Why are you so hard on yourself?  First off, you are not fat.  Trust me, you will know what a fat you looks like, and honey child, this aint it.  You are a child, still growing and developing.  But believe me, you are beautiful.  In the future, you would give anything to look like this, so savor it!

Stop abusing your body.  You already did damage from cheerleading, do not add to it.  Make sure you stretch and exercise, and for the love of pete eat something now and then.  And wear your glasses, because you are only making your eyesight worse with all that squinting.

Nothing is going to keep you from being successful but you.  You love school, you know you do.  So stop talking about being something great, and be it.  Stop allowing yourself to slide by.  Apply to more colleges.  OUE was great, and you saved a ton of money, but see what else is out there too.

Do not be in such a hurry to fall in love.  You are going to get your heart broken for the next 16 years, before you meet the most amazing man.  He will be worth the wait, trust me.  But learn now that you deserve to be treated well, and should not settle.

Do not work at Rave.  It is not a terrible experience, but really not worth it.  And get your driver's license.  It is not as scary as you think, and it allows you more freedom, especially to get a better job.  But do work, it comes in handy your senior year.  Pictures, announcements, and formal dresses get expensive.

Do not get credit cards.  They are evil.  Open a checking account instead, and try to buy a car.  It is a much better way to establish a credit history.

Be a little more open minded and kind.  People are often not what they appear in high school.  Some of those people you do not talk to much will end up being great friends to you in a few years.  And spend more time with David.  You will miss him when he is gone.

Lighten up a little, and have some fun.  And goodness gracious stop worrying so much.

Tell your family you love them at every chance you get.  They are the ones who matter the most, and will always be there for you.  And go see Gram more.  You will regret it if you don't.

Oh, and that huge hair?  It's not cute.  Buy a flat iron as soon as they become popular, stop cutting your hair short, and whatever you do, do not dye it yourself, get it professionally done.  And wax your eyebrows.

Love,
Me

It pays to save change

My mom is the queen of saving money for a special occasions.  Many times I can remember her tucking away money into an envelope for family trips, or for large items we wanted to get.  A few times she got me to set up Christmas club savings accounts.  In fact, it is thanks to my mom I ever got ANY kind of savings account.  For the most part, in my younger years, I lacked my mom's discipline to save money for special items or occasions (I have since gotten better), but the one thing that easily rubbed off on me was my mom's ability to and love of saving change.  I remember there was this huge glass bottle that sat next to my parents' bed, and it was where my mom saved pennies.  I LOVED that bottle, and I loved to dump out the pennies and count them.  I never even minded that my hands smelled all coppery afterwards.

When I moved out on my own, my opportunities to save change became fewer, as I needed it to pay to do my laundry at the laundromat.  But now that I have my own house, with a washer and drier, my change once again gets saved.  And lucky for me, Hubby loves to save change too.  We throw the change in a cup in our bedroom, which, when full, gets dumped into a bucket.  After the bucket has a good amount in it, we take it to a local Coin Star machine.  If you cash it in for cold hard cash, they of course take a cut, but if you get a gift card, you get the full amount, so, being the book nerds we both are, we usually take our reward in the form of an Amazon gift card.

Hubby recently did this, was was discouraged to find out the amount he got was less than he hoped for.  He was hoping for about $250, and got a little less than $200, which still made me happy.  He decided to order us some books, but we still had a large portion of the balance left.

Last night, we decided that I probably should replace my power cord to the laptop, since the electrical tape is not doing much to repair the damage Dexter inflicted upon it.  We log into Amazon, and see that the Kindle is on sale for $189.  Hubby immediately says, order it.  I was flabbergasted.  Are you SURE?  I asked.  His response was a resounding YES.  Turns out the reason he was so disappointed in the lower than expected amount of change cashed in was because he wanted to use it to buy me a Kindle, which at that time was over $200 dollars.  So, now, he was happy that the amount the Kindle cost was almost exactly what we had gotten in the first place.  And the books we already ordered, well, we still got good deals on them, and we would have gotten them eventually anyway.

So, the moral of the story is, save up your change, it really does pay off.  Thanks mom, for teaching me this lesson so many years ago!

My Daddy

I am proud to admit that I always have been, and always will be, a Daddy's girl.  From some of I earliest memories, I remember sitting on Dad's lap as he would read me the Sunday funnies.  We would do so much fun stuff together, like make woodworking projects, go fishing, go berry picking, collect recyclables, make trips to the library.  Life was never dull with my Dad.  I loved when he would play his guitar, his song for me was Puff the Magic dragon.  And one of my favorite treats was when Dad would get out his slides from his time in the Navy.  I loved setting up that screen in our living room, and looking at the pictures from Spain and Greece.  I thought my Dad was the most interesting man in the world.

I learned so much from Dad, and I still am learning.  As a little girl, I learned to swim thanks to Dad, I learned to love to read, I learned how to bait a hook, I learned that hard, honest work is never something to be ashamed of, I learned that boys better treat me right or else.  The lessons and skills that Dad taught me are limitless.

My whole childhood, my Dad worked 2, sometimes 3 jobs to make sure we were provided for.  That meant I did not always see him much, but when I did, that time was precious.  My dad is now retired, something he definitely earned, and it makes me happy to see him getting to relax and enjoy life.  Dad is still always willing to help us and teach us. 

I never, ever, thought I would find a man as good as my Daddy.  There are no words to describe how loving, and giving, and good my dad is; those are some big shoes to fill.  Dad has watched me go through some pretty awful relationships, and always tried to stress to me that I deserved better.
 
How blessed was I to find someone like my Daddy, after 30 years of waiting.  When I met Hubby, he started out by being my best friend for a couple of years.  I was always struck by how much he cared about me as a person, and how unconditional that caring was.  He was such a good man, even then I saw it.

As time went on, and we finally got together, I knew this was the man my Daddy had wanted me to wait for.  And when we told them we were getting married, Daddy was happy and proud of the man he was giving me to.

The more Hubby and Dad get to know each other, and the more I see them together, the more I realize how similar they are.  When Dad recently came to spend a few days here to help Hubby with our new floor and fence, I got to learn more lessons from him, as well as show him how well I put some of those lessons to use.  And all the while, Hubby and Dad were like two peas in a pod.

It is because I have such a wonderful Daddy that I ended up with such a wonderful Hubby.

Thank you Daddy, for all you have done for me over the years, but especially for being the role model for what a good, godly man should be.  Whether you realized or not, I really was paying attention.

Happy Father's Day to my Daddy, and to all the other daddies out there.

Thankful for.... my first gray hair

I love to change my hair. A lot. The first thing I did the day after my wedding was chop off all my long blond locks. A week later, I dyed them strawberry blond. My hair has changed color no less than five times in the past year. I even put together a little collage so you can see how drastically my hair has changed over the past couple of years. And this is not even all of my different looks.

So. yeah, I have no idea what my real hair color is, but needless to say, it never makes an appearance on my head. Nor should gray hair. Which is why I was beyond shocked when Hubby plucked a gray hair from my head yesterday. I steadfastly denied it could belong to me, after all, I had just dyed my hair last weekend. He said it came from my hairline, and must have gotten missed. He showed me the hair, and it had a root on it. It was a totally different texture from his hair, so it could not have been his. It, it, it must have been....mine? Does this mean I am (gulp) getting OLD????

OK, deep breaths.

Now what do I do?

I give thanks.

This is just another sign that my life is entirely too precious to be wasting it on pettiness. Lately, I have found myself getting wrapped up in some petty drama, being sucked in by some people who, for reasons unknown to me, want to hurt me, and wasting a lot of time being hurt and angry. Does it suck knowing someone you loved and trusted said and did things to deliberately hurt you? Yes it does. Does it make you question the decisions you have made, and who you thought your friends were? Sure enough. Do I know for sure what will happen? No way.

Here is what I do know. All this negativity has made me become negative. I was a person I did not like too much. I did and said hurtful and untrue things about people, I wronged them. I have asked forgiveness of them, and I know it has been granted, but it still does not change the fact that I did wrong. I do not want to be that person, and in the last few months, I have worked hard to change the person I was becoming. I believe I am back on the right path. But being angry at the people who hurt me is no better than when I was down in the muck with them, hurting other people. Because life is too short. So (deep breath) I am going to forgive the people who hurt me. All those who said mean and untrue things about me, I forgive you. And all those I said similar things about, I beg forgiveness of you. All those who hate me, and hurt me, I pray for you. All those I hurt, I ask you pray for me.

Life is too precious to be squandered on negativity. I know it sounds naive, but if you are in my life, and consider me a friend or loved one, I would think that should mean that you care about me, so can't we all just get along, before I am old and completely gray?

Thankful for.... being taught the spirit of giving

I know I mentioned to you a few days ago that I won a giveaway from an author. On Monday, I got an email from her telling me she sent my packages to me. The ironic thing was that on the same day, I mailed out a package of my own, to the winner of a giveaway I sponsored on my pet blog, The Tales of Dexter and Nora.

Today, I got my winnings from the author, the fabulous K. Dawn Byrd. She is so fantastic and generous. Check out my table full of goodies:

Keep in mind, I also got a copy of the e-book version of Queen of Hearts. I started it at about 11 last night, and am halfway through it; it's an awesome book!

So, I won a giveaway the same time I gave a giveaway. Life comes full circle sometimes.

The funny thing is, I never really told people why I decided to do a giveaway. I mean, yes, it is a great way to gain new readers, and make new friends, but really, I did it to teach myself about the spirit of giving.

I decided I needed to have a better spirit of giving because of my in laws actually. My mother in law and grandmother in law are very giving people. There is a lot I could learn, and have learned, from them, about what it means to have a spirit of giving. Every time we go to visit either one of them, we come back with all kinds of stuff. Bags full of stuff. Sometimes, it is grocery staples, like noodles, and frozen chicken breasts. Often, it is sundries like toothpaste and paper plates. Sometimes, it is just something to make me smile, like baby pictures of Hubby, or a cute little knick knack for my mantle.

At first, I could not understand why we always got these bags of stuff from them. I certainly did, and still do, appreciate it, and can not tell you the number of times all of those things came in so so handy. But I always felt a little guilty, like I am taking something from them that they might need, or that the money they have spent on buying us these things could have gone to something they themselves needed or wanted. Then I realized, they love to give. It is their way of being helpful, of showing us that they love us and were thinking of us.

I need to learn to be more giving. There are always people who are in more need of something than I am, whether it is real physical need, or more spiritual and emotional need. So, today, I am thankful for my mother in law and grandmother in law, the lessons they have taught me about the spirit of giving, and the blessing of receiving gifts from people.

Also, a very large thank you to K. Dawn Byrd for my wonderful goodies, and I strongly strongly encourage everyone to check out Queen of Hearts. There is a reason it is a best seller!

Small town exotica

Living in a small town, miles away from both the west coast and NYC, in no real target market area, we never really see unusual products hit the stores in Kittanning. About the most exotic thing we have seen recently is the pretzel m&ms. So, when I stumbled upon this at the local Sheetz....

I knew I had to try it. Naked Coconut water. Made from Brazilian coconuts, with no preservatives, and no sugar added. I LOVE coconuts, so I thought, hey, I am game.

I had hubby help me document my journey.

Here I am displaying the awesome package of water....
It says "Like a coconut with an easy pull tab".

So I open it....

and I take a drink....
uh oh, that is not a good face....
Hubby asked what it tasted like. I said, it tastes like someone took a carton of spoiled milk, dumped the milk out, filled the carton with water, set the carton in the fridge for a week, then dumped the water into this sexy packaging.


So, there you have it. No more Naked Coconut water for me. I guess I should be content with my nice, boring, small town diet coke. Who needs all this excitement, right?

My Grandfather's Grocery Store

When I was a kid, we often played a game I refer to as My Grandfather's Grocery Store. Basically, a group of people are sitting around and one says "My grandfather owns a grocery store, and in it he sells something that begins with the letter A". Everyone tries to guess what the item is, and who ever guesses goes next, using the letter B, and so on through the entire alphabet. It was a great game to keep us kids occupied on long car trips.

Once my sister's kids were old enough, we played the game with them as well. It was great on holidays when everyone was too full from the obligatory feasting to move anything other than their mouths. Even though my niece and nephew were of the Playstation generation, often needing special effects or high tech graphics to keep them entertained, they did seem to find this game pretty engaging. It was a challenge to see if you could stump everyone else, to see who could guess the item first, and to see who guessed correctly the most times. It is a game that really allowed kids to use their imagination, because let's face it, that letter Q is a toughie.

However, I fear that in a couple more generations, this game may become extinct to the majority of kids, because the small town grocery store is dying. Even in my small town, and the small towns around me, there are only a couple of actual small town grocery stores, not belonging to a national chain. My husband will often tell me that 10 years ago, it was a different story.

It is hard for mom and pop places to compete with national chain stores. And I myself am completely guilty of favoring the convenience of one stop shop, or a shopping center, over shopping in town. Also, it is hard to beat the prices of a bigger chain. But still, when I lived closer to Pittsburgh, I would often shop in the Strip District, and see it as an adventure. So, maybe as the weather warms, I should explore the small shops in my town, and surrounding small towns, to try to give them some of my business. I do not want the small town store to die. Because, let's face it, My Grandfathers Walmart and My Grandfather's Whole Foods just do not have the same ring to them.

The beauty of a failure

My biggest fear in life? Failure. That I will fail myself, my loved ones, my God. For years I would go to great lengths to avoid failure. Even if that length meant sacrificing something, for fear I would fail at it. I have done that so many times.

Recently, I failed at something that I thought I really wanted. And I failed epically. In 2008, while working for a company that was involved in higher education, I decided to pursue a doctorate degree in educational leadership. This was a huge undertaking for me, and I told everyone I knew. I put it on my myspace page, I put it on my facebook page, I sent emails to my friends. Someday, everyone would call me "Dr.". I was excited and scared and proud all at the same time.

In my first class, I made an amazing connection with my professor, which was even more incredible being that I was taking classes online. She supported and encouraged me, and set me as an example to the other students in the class. She treated me as a peer. I got 100% in that first doctorate class. I felt certain this was the path I was supposed to be on. Several months later, I had to travel to Chicago for a residency weekend, and again, I was in love with the program, and my path. This is most definitely for me. However, by that time, I had started dating Hubby, the Boyfriend, so it was hard to balance everything. But I could handle it. Right?

Then, I got a promotion at work. I had been working toward this for several months, taking on part of the responsibilities to prove I was worthy, so I could handle this, right? Wrong. I failed at the promotion. Best thing that ever happened to me. I am so not management material. In retrospect, I should have listened to my heart a few months into the hiring process and withdrew my name from contention. The other girl would have done a better job. But I think she is happier now anyway. All things for a reason, eh? So, ok, that failure was out of the way, I could focus more on school again.

Except, then Hubby, then Boyfriend,'s dad died. And everything else ceased to matter. Then the engagement, the wedding plans, the house purchase and move.....school was no longer a priority, and it was no longer the path God wanted me on. I tried, I fought Him tooth and nail. And I failed classes. Me, who never so much as got an F on a homework assignment in any of my previous 21 years of education, kindergarten through masters degree, ME. I was a failure. It was humbling.

I realized that God wanted me to focus on myself, and my health, my physical, emotional, and spiritual health. He wanted me to focus on my Hubby, and our home, and helping to establish ourselves as a family.

But...was this really a failure? In some ways, most definitely yes. My transcript will attest to that, as will my student loan payments. And my pride most certainly felt it at the time.

But, this was something I had to experience. I needed to learn that failure is not the worst thing in the world, and the only way to learn that was to fail. God loves me despite my failings. That is the beauty of grace. Our failures do not define us, but they do shape us into the person God wants us to be.



And I always knew that, I just had to believe it. And in order to believe it, I had to experience it.

So, there you have it. I failed. I was a failure. And it was a blessing.