values

The opposite of obligation.

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imagesEver seen the Pixar film “Up”? In the how-Carl-and-Ellie-met montage is a moment when the two of them sit side by side, reading and holding hands.

That was DF and me on Sunday, reading and hand-holding in adjoining easy chairs. For him it was “Mozart in the Jungle” and for me it was one of the “Anne of Green Gables” books. (I’d never read the series as a kid and recently I found several titles in the recycle bin.)

It was so nice to see DF rooted for a while. Usually he’s in constant motion: cooking, working in the yard or garden, hanging out laundry, tidying up. Even when he sits still he’s often working: paying bills, balancing his checkbook, dealing with his father’s estate. Yet there he was, reading a non-work-related book and smiling.

And me? The day before I’d written a post for Surviving and Thriving and finished my Monday post for MSN Money. Thus I felt temporarily free to follow the adventures of Anne Shirley, even though unread personal finance books are currently stacked eyebrow-high on the desk.

For the first time in who knows when, we were observing a Sabbath. I don’t mean that in a strictly religious sense, but as a day of rest. A chance to recharge. A dozen hours of peace. The opposite of obligation.

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Herding trolls.

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thYesterday was a Suzy Homemaker* day for me: I made deviled eggs, a batch of soft oat rolls and some oatmeal cookies, then invited my niece and her kids over for a round of Café Awesome. After that we went out to glean feral raspberries.

During the day I also put up the first of those Swagbucks “Five for Five” promotional posts and wrote and scheduled the other four. I arranged for a couple of interviews, did some research for next week’s articles, rounded up and washed jam jars, and made a huge batch of raspberry-rhubarb jam.

(Note to self: Nine cups of rhubarb means lots of chopping. Find an easier recipe.)

However, I also made the mistake of visiting the comments section of “How to make a quick $50,” that day’s MSN Money post. Suffice it to say that the process sucked far too much time out of my day.

DF sympathized when he got home: “Herding trolls again?

 

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I fought the log and the log won.

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th-1We now have an 8-by-8-foot shed nearly filled with firewood. The good news: It’s free heat, from about 20 trees felled on a couple of different properties.

The bad news? We’re not done, because after about seven hours the rented log-splitter broke.

After about six hours of trundling and stacking firewood my arms and shoulders feel very, very surprised. I expect tomorrow’s workday will be very challenging indeed, given that I make my living with my hands as well as my head.

Now I know why people had so many kids way back when: free labor.

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Using up the stockpile.

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After a particularly aggravating shopping trip back in late March, I suggested that we buy as little as possible for the month of April. We’d live off what was stored in the cupboards, freezer and basement, filling in with vegetables, fruit and dairy as needed.

At the time I meant to report the findings here. That didn’t happen. In fact, I can’t find the envelope with our April receipts. However, I do remember that DF added them up and they came to about $91 – which shows that vegetables, fruit and dairy for two people can be pretty darned expensive up here. (Hint: We’re not buying organic or out-of-season stuff and we use milk for cooking, not for drinking.)

How’s our stockpile looking? Surprisingly unaffected, dammit. 

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A satisfied life.

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On Sunday we went to lunch with DF’s mother and her longtime companion. The most exciting part of the meal was the very large black bear that ran around in a field behind the restaurant until employees chased it away. The most interesting part was what his mother said about flowers.

She’d gone to a local nursery and was so taken by the blooms that she bought more than she needed. In fact, it’s been a long time since she bought anything she didn’t specifically need.

“It was nice to want something,” she said. “I haven’t wanted anything in a long time.”

That’s not because she’s clinically depressed or too impoverished to dream. It’s because she’s satisfied.

 

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Another anniversary. Couldn’t have done it without you.

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thJust over four years ago I started writing this site, even as I wondered (a) if anyone would care and (b) whether I could keep it up.

The answer was “yes” on both counts. Sort of.

I haven’t got the huge fan base and influence of a “name” blogger, and there have been times when I was too overwhelmed by my paying jobs to devote enough time to my avocation.

If I had more readers I could turn the site into what the kids call a serious alternate income source. It does make some money, but nowhere close to a living wage. More to the point, I’d like more followers because, well, what writer wouldn’t?

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Say what needs saying, before it’s too late.

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thYesterday DF’s father died. I am so, so glad that it happened after DF’s recent trip down south to take care of business. Now his father’s widow, who’s 95, won’t have to stress out over death-related details or to face her late husband’s very disorganized papers.

No, DF did that for her – with complete transparency – because she was too busy coping with the impending loss. I’m glad he did that. I’m gladder still that he was able to say some things that needed saying, while his father was still able to hear and to respond.

Please, please do the same – before you miss your chance. If something needs saying, then say it.

Their relationship was not ideal, but DF made a conscious choice to put aside rancor and say, “I love you unconditionally.” As in, no conditions attached to his statement:

  • No recriminations.
  • No asking “why?”
  • No demand for closure.

That last is counter to pop-psychology tenets, but not everyone needs or wants it. A therapist I know once said, “Closure is overrated.” I think I know what she meant: Those openness-and-healing talks aren’t necessarily a panacea.

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Let us now praise customer service.

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Over on my daughter’s website is a post that I wish would go viral. The theme of “Don’t just complain” is simple: When you encounter good service, say so.

That can be in person or via e-mail or letter. Not the calculated-to-get-something kind of letter, mind you: I don’t know I ever survived without Product X! It’s miraculous! (And will you please send me some freebies or at least some high-value coupons?)

No, I’m talking about that true rarity: a note that says “you got it right – thanks.”

 

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