Holiday Letter Thursday, Dec 5 2013 

Humor and Musing and Whatever , , , , , kwlaff 9:56 pm

What have I/we done all year? Something, hopefully, worthy of repeating to others. Each year, with our Christmas cards, (YES, we still mail them!) we send a short letter of what we’ve been up to during the year.  I know, I know, for some folks a letter like that means an exhaustive list of accomplishments (I won the Nobel Peace Prize and American Idol!), or line after line of expensive vacation details (the sheets were soooo soft, the beach was just for us!) or a page of the awards their super over achieving kids received (Lettering in all sports, plus a 10.0 grade point average, and still has time knit prize winning sweaters).  Our letters have never been like that and it is not because we don’t travel or our kids, when in school, didn’t get good grades.  That type of letter just doesn’t reflect us.  Heck, we used to joke that the letter would say just things like, yep, we are still married, for those of you that said it wouldn’t work out.

I sat down this year to write the little letter and kinda drew a blank.  What have we done all year?  Worked.  Slept.  Worried.  None of that is anything but life and certainly not letter worthy.  Well, we are still married, so there is that.  Maybe it is time for THAT update.  Although it has only been 37 years, so it is possible it may not work out.  Bad if the haters won after all.

2013 was a year of working our butts off, trying to gain a better foot hold on if we might ever be able to retire sometime before we die.  We are lucky to both have good jobs, and some savings, but the last few years have not helped with any retirement plans.  So, how does one put that in a holiday update letter?

Maybe I should wait and bit and see how December goes……

 

I’d Rather Be A Redneck Than…….Whatever You Are Thursday, Oct 17 2013 

Humor and Musing and Whatever , , , , kwlaff 10:40 pm

I’ve been labeled!  And we all know that labeling people isn’t nice.  So why do people do it?  If one listens to TV commercials, it’s to separate the zombies from the rest of the living beings.  If one attended the wedding I attended last week, it’s about New Yorkers and Rednecks.

My beloved spouse and I recently traveled with friends to an event out of state…that event being a destination wedding. (Lord, help us)  We, along with a small group of friends, stood for the groom’s family.   We had a wonderful time, in general.  Only one thing marred it.  Being labeled and the trappings of such labeling.

The ‘other’ side of this equation, a.k.a the bride’s side, was mostly from New York (not the city).  Prior to meeting any of this ‘other’ group, I had no preconceived notion, or predetermined issue with how they might think or act based on anything and certainly not on where they might reside.  They were just people going to a wedding, just like us.  They weren’t lucky enough to be from Texas, live in Texas or even get to visit Texas, but that was entirely their problem.  It’s a wedding, so let’s all be happy, right?

It was readily apparent from minute one (that’s a New York Minute) that the New Yorkers, before meeting us or speaking to us, thought that we were a bunch of hillbilly rednecks that did not warrant even the slightest instant of civil politeness.  They were flat out rude.  Repeatedly.

I do not for a second want to imply there is a thing wrong with being a Redneck.  Some of my best friends are Rednecks.  Hard working, deeply honest, loving Rednecks.  And not one of them would hastily assume that just because one might be from New York, one might be a rude jerk.  It could be proven fast enough, but they’d never assume it.

But here we were, with the label of Redneck pasted on us, sneered our direction, and used in a clearly derogatory manner, merely because we were different from them. Yes, some in our group wore cowboy boots as appropriate footwear (dress boots, polished and all), but not a one of us rode a horse anywhere (or even own one for that matter) and we all made sure we’d combed the hay from our hair and the dirt from under our nails before slicking and gussying ourselves all up for the big hoedown. Shucks and golly gee MeMa, we didn’t even use the cement pond to bathe.

After this experience, I wonder, are all New Yorkers over tanned, uncouth, snotty jerks that drink like fish and smell like cigarettes?  And is this every day behavior or saved for special occasions, say like weddings? I will never have the answer to my questions, as my one experience with them has now come and gone.  But I will say that I now understand why people from the south, and not just Texas, talk about Yankees being rude.  This group did nothing to dis-spell the stereo type. Quite the opposite, they embodied the stereo type.  It may amuse them to know that the metro area Deep in the Heart of Texas, where our contingent resides, is 6 times bigger than where they reside, is home to several world renowned music venues and museums, and has much worse traffic.

So label me if you must, because I’d rather be a Redneck, if that group will have me, than a rude New Yorker.

 

News Flash-World Keeps Spinning-Story at 10 Wednesday, Sep 25 2013 

Complaints and Humor and Musing and Whatever , , , , kwlaff 6:30 pm

Having now spent over a week answering emails for 1) people who really need help with the new system 2) people who hate change no matter what it is and 3) people who complain because they can, I have decided that the world will continue and nothing will change.  The people that needed help received it.  The people that hate change had change thrust upon them and will adjust or move on.  Keep in mind the last time there was a technology change they hated that system too, and now it is the one they want to flip back to using :).  And the complainers, well, they were killed with kindness and will find another topic to complain about, focus their unhappiness on, and in general continue their unhappy little lives.  Live is too short to worry about them.

During my lifetime, I’ve dealt with different types of issues and problems, one of which was mother in law’s demenita, which I detailed in my postings in this blog and when my brother in law wasted away from lung cancer in front of our eyes.  Currently both my parents have aging issues and there are plenty of real life, personal stresses on me.   That, my friends, is when times are tough and you dig deep, not when online banking rejects your password at 3am.  Seriously, is that the worst thing that has ever happened to you?  Because your reaction seems a bit over the top…..just sayin’.  (In case you don’t get that last part, it was sarcastic.)

So kick back, eat some ice cream, smile.  I’m going too, as soon as I answer all these bleeping emails.

 

Okay Dude, Stop it Thursday, Sep 27 2012 

Humor and Musing and Uncategorized , , , kwlaff 3:38 pm

My husband, whom I normally refer to as my beloved husband when speaking or writing about him (sarcastic font), is driving me crazy.  He is on a business trip to Sedona, Arizona, a trip originally proposed with me tagging along.  I SO wanted to go.  However, work intervened and my availability was removed, and I could not go.  Which, from my point of view was a bummer.  BIG bummer.  BIG, BIG bummer.  So, he packed up and flew out on Tuesday.  Into a pretty and cool world of the Arizona red rocks.   That night he called to check in, telling me how great the spa style hotel was and how big the soaking tub in his room was.  Blah, Blah, Blah.

Then on Wednesday, he called to check in, telling me how great the weather was, how lovely the view was, how great the scenery was, and followed up with pictures.

View of a Sedona Rock

Really?  I’m at work each day, dealing with, well, stuff, and he’s …well, vacationing.  His check in yesterday was all about taking a drive on one of the most scenic routes available up to Flagstaff  (“gorgeous, just gorgeous”)  and enjoying the evening air on the drive back.  I’m glad he is enjoying himself, but does he have to torture me with his good fortune in the process?  Dude, stop it!

 

What’s the Deal with Age? Tuesday, Sep 25 2012 

Beginner Blogs and Elder Issues and Grandchildren and Humor and Musing , , , , , kwlaff 5:16 pm

I’ve spent a lot of time recently thinking about my age.  Not because I feel old or that I am worried about my age. In fact, it is quite the opposite.  I don’t feel old, and I am not worried about my age.  I have found out recently that others appear to be worried about my age.  And I find that amusing.

All those platitudes about you are only as old as you feel and act young to stay young are things old people say.  The young people still cling to the idea that youth and acting young is for the young and  many look down their noses at someone my age (I have passed the 50 mark, but have not hit the middle of that decade) enjoying the same activities I did while in my forties or thirties.  Why would I suddenly stop liking some of the same stuff, I wonder?  But it really seems to befuddle some of the ‘grown-ups’ in that age group.

I do not have the desire to do the same things I did back then as often as I did back then, but not because I cannot.  It’s actually because my life is too busy to fit it all in, not because my advanced age makes me too tired, as the ones worrying about my age seem to imply.  My job is hectic and I shoulder more responsibility than I did during my 30’s and 40’s. I am still upwardly mobile in my career.  I upgraded my living arrangements from the average city dwelling to the home of my dreams in the country and the compute takes a bit longer, which is good in some ways and bad in others.  I have a grandchild that I adore and I spend as much time with him as I can.  I’ve bought into the whole social media scene and I’m online more than I should be.   I found out I love genealogy, and have become an addict.  (Intervention might be in my future.)  I own a second home about 4 hours away for relaxation and down time.  I have aging parents that require attention.  All that takes time, so I’ve shifted, adjusted and squeezed as much as I can into the space allotted me.  So, yes, I still do many of the ‘old’ things I used to do, just not with the same frequency that I used to do them.  And some of them are much less important as my ‘age’ (I prefer ‘wisdom’) has allowed me to determine some of those just don’t rate as high on the enjoyment meter any longer.

So bottom line, worriers, don’t worry. Yes, I’m older than I used to be.  Who isn’t?  However, just because you continue to indulge in the same activities at the same pace, and I’ve slacked off those activities, doesn’t mean I’m tired, ill or out of pace with the world.  It means my life is full of other interesting things and activities I like and people I love.  It means I’m putting my experiences to good use.  It means I am vital and alive.  It means I’m not worried.

Now where are my keys?

 

Time in a Bottle Wednesday, Jul 11 2012 

Beginner Blogs and Humor and Musing , , , kwlaff 7:02 pm

I never thought I would live this long.  Pretty simple.  Until I turned forty, I never envisioned a life after forty.  I still find it difficult to picture a future of any kind for myself.  I worry about the future for those I care about, fret about the impact their mistakes have on their future.  But my future is rarely part of the vision.

When I was about fourteen I visited a fortune-teller at a local carnival with a group of friends.  I didn’t want to spend any money on something like that, not having expendable funds like my friends had, and only gave in after the peer pressure became more than I wanted to bear. I wanted to be liked afterall.  The rest of the group received glowing fortunes involving tall, dark, handsome men, with love and riches in their futures.  I went last, hoping that interest would be lost before my money was spent, and we could move on.  But, as luck would have it, I wasn’t going to be able to talk or wait my way out of this situation and my palm was read.  The gypsy/witch/whatever she was supposed to be passed her hand and fingertips over my palm and told me to enjoy life while I had the time, as time was short.  What?  I remember thinking. What? They all get tall, dark and handsome, and I get ‘live while you can’?  The group of friends I was with all laughed and the game was over.  I was miffed my money was gone for that but happy to be part of the experience, part of the group.  And we moved on to the next ride.  Did I believe my fortune that day, let it stink in a bit, and not see a future for myself?  No, I didn’t.  I knew it was small time carnival non sense and it had no impact at all.  No one at that age pictures themselves ‘old’.  We all know that at fourteen, twenty is old.

As the years passed and the topic of the future would ripple through conversations, I began to realize, I was never in any vision of the future.  I can easily see my husband, my children, and others, but not myself.  I became more and more interested in the past and the mark one leaves on those around them.  (This is still something that interests me.)

I sometimes wonder if I have lived my life differently than I would have if I could picture myself older, living into my very senior years.  I wonder if I would have embarked on my ‘double’ life if I thought I had a happy senior life awaiting me. Or has my inability impacted anything at all?

 

Holidays Over Too Soon Monday, Jan 10 2011 

Beginner Blogs and Humor and Musing , , kwlaff 9:08 pm

Yes, I said it.  The holiday season just raced by and I wasn’t ready for it to leave.  I am still not.  It is not about the gifts or the shopping.  It is the lights and special treats.  We finally took down the outside lights this weekend, but that is just because the weather is suppose to really turn bad this week. Until they came down, they were lit each night.  I liked pulling up in front of the house each nigh after work (in the dark, BTW) and seeing the lights on. The inside decorations are still up, and we are still enjoying to sparkle of the tree. When the grandson comes over the first thing he does is ‘click’ to turn them on, if they happen not to be on.  The season is just too short.  I promise to have the tree down by Valentine’s day. 🙂

 

Santa and the 3 year old Tuesday, Dec 14 2010 

Beginner Blogs and Grandchildren and Humor and Musing , , kwlaff 7:02 pm

HA! What a difference a year makes!  When Santa arrived at the park, I figured we would need to work up sitting on his lap.  After all the excitement of the arrival and Santa calling out Little Man’s name as he went by (pretty awesome!), I scooped Little Man up and asked him if he wanted to tell Santa what he wanted for Christmas and he said yes. So we made our way to the pavilion and I set Little Man back on his feet so he could see the other kids and Santa.  I was ready for the coaching session.  But it was all for naught. He was more than ready and I actually had to hold him back from racing into the pictures being taken of the child on Santa’s lap at that moment.  But Little Man made his turn next and he climbed on up, smiled and enjoyed the pictures and attention.  When Santa asked him what he wanted he clearly said ‘park’ and hopped down.  Stinker.

 

Santa and the 2 year old Thursday, Dec 17 2009 

Beginner Blogs and Humor , , , kwlaff 10:48 pm

I had high hopes that we’d get his picture with Santa this year, but alas, it was a no go.  My 2 year old grandson ( I call him Little Man) watched as the other kids sat on Santa’s lap and flashes of the camera went off.  After a cookie or two, we finally worked our way close enough to Santa’s bench that I thought I could coax him, but then he turned into water with no bucket and slid to the floor.  At least he didn’t cry.  He wanted to, but he didn’t.

But don’t despair, dear reader, we have a Santa picture this year.  Santa, Granny and Little Man are all in the picture, with Little Man on Granny’s lap.  I have one almost like it for his father, except in that picture it is easy to see that the child has been crying and I am much, much younger.  

Oh well. Maybe next year.

 

A Beautiful Sunset-Not Really Friday, Nov 13 2009 

Humor , , , , kwlaff 10:41 pm

A Beautiful Sunset-Not Really

So let’s just say there was this wife that likes to take sunset pictures.  And let’s just say this was this husband that knows this.  And let’s just say that on one evening there was a beautiful sunset.  Are we all on board?   Let’s just say we are.

One day Wife arrives home before Husband.  She’s still in her work attire, skirt, hose, minus her shoes, while she places dinner in the oven.  Chicken, in case it matters.  Husband calls.  He is on his way home.  Be about a half an hour. Tells Wife there is a beautiful sunset and if she drives to the end of the road they live on, where it intersects with the main road, she might be able to catch a good picture of it.  The area directly around them is heavily wooded, but the road at the intersection faces west, so there might indeed be a view of the previously mentioned sunset.  Wife decides to give it a go.  Slips off her hose, grabs the mega 35mm camera, grabs her GMC Yukon keys, grabs her cell phone, checks the oven time, asks the two little dogs, one brown, one white, if they’d like to go for a ride.  Of course they do.  They always do.  Wife heads to the Yukon, loads little dogs up.  Excited, they are.  Especially the brown one.  Loves to ride. Wife drives to the end of the road.  It’s not that far.  Not really.

The sunset is not quite visible for a picture and it looks like if Wife drives down the road facing west to the front of the subdivision, she might have a better chance at a good picture.  It’s not that far.  Not really.  So Wife drives a bit further.  At the entrance to the subdivision, the view is okay, but still partially blocked by trees.  This intersection is busier; a ‘T’ style intersection, cars passing at highway speeds. The highway is two lane and Wife knows that just a little bit north on the highway on the left side of the road, there is a spot where the trees break and there is a nice view overlooking a field.  She drives by it everyday.  She’s sure the sunset will be visible from there and the pictures will be great.  It’s not that far up the road.  Not really.  So she turns right and drives a bit more.  She turns left into an old unused driveway just before the crest of a hill, just past the opening in the tress.  Wife puts the Yukon in park and turns off the engine.  The view is okay, but to get it just right, she needs to get out of the Yukon and walk down the side of the highway just a bit.  It’s not that far.  Not really. 

She grabs the camera and gets out of the Yukon.  She shuts the door and picks her way, barefoot, down the grassy/gravely right of way next to the road as cars fly by at highway speeds.  The sunset is beautiful.  She takes several pictures.  With her excited little brown dog watching from inside the Yukon.  Bouncing on the armrest.  Where the automatic lock button is located.   

Even from the distance away, Wife hears the Yukon doors lock. 

Wife picks her way barefoot back down the grassy/gravely right of way to the Yukon.  Tries the door.  Locked.  Looks in the window.  Phone on the console.  Keys in the ignition.  Awesome.

So let’s recap. While dinner is in the oven, Wife is over two miles from home, standing barefoot, holding a camera, on the side of the road next to her locked Yukon, which contains two little dogs and her cell phone. 

Wife tries to get the little brown dog to bounce on the armrest again until the Yukon unlocks.    This actually works once, but relocks as quickly as it unlocks.  The little brown dog is bouncing too much it seems. Wife considers walking back to the house, which hopefully hasn’t caught fire, to get the spare set of keys.  But Wife can not recall if she locked the house when she left.  If she walks all the way back, barefoot, keep in mind, and the house is locked, the trip would be wasted.  She is relativity certain she locked the house.  Husband always insists.  Wife doesn’t give up on little brown dog unlocking Yukon but decides to wait for Husband to drive by on his way home.  He will, because it is his only way home.  So Wife talks to little brown dog and waits.  And waits.  And waits.  Wife can hear cell phone ringing in Yukon.   And doesn’t see any smoke from direction of home. After a time, Husband’s truck crests the hill.  She waves.  He drives by.  And waves. 

Moral to this Story:  One can really go too far without trying.

(And for those of you that just have to know:  The house was locked. The dinner was only slightly overdone. He did figure out she wasn’t just standing on the side of the road taking pictures. He turned around and came back to find out want was wrong.  He drove home and retrieved the extra set of keys.  The little dogs had a great time.  The pictures turned out so-so.)

 

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