Noise

Sometimes noise can be deafening without any sound at all. Many posts on social media are becoming such a thing for me. It almost makes me long for the era when relatives cranked up their Kodak slide carousels and shared vacation photos, ad nauseam, to captive audiences furtively watching the clock in anticipation of an exit. Fortunately, such events were few and far between. Not so much for memes, tweets and other shout outs to audiences who did not ask to be yelled at. I support the right to free speech, but time and place, people.

Okay, now I feel better. I spewed off a little noise of my own. Thanks for listening. It is time for a few sounds I recommend for better mental health.

1) Birds. I just cannot listen to the sounds of birds without smiling. Their voices often transport me to favorite places. A meadowlark sends me to a crunchy gravel road as I maneuver an unwieldy bicycle to retrieve the mail from our mailbox down the road a piece. The meadowlarks were always dressed in little tuxedos and seemed to serenade me with their latest news of the prairie. Chickadees never fail to remind me of stately conifer trees in our favorite vacation destination. They seem to be gossiping about where they have hidden their latest cache of seeds and how pleased they are for backyard feeders. You're welcome, sweet chickadees. Hawks piercing the sound waves with their focused carnivorous warnings never fail to give me goosebumps. Food chains are alive and well.

2) Water. I am not referring to the water my sump pump belches out whenever there is an overload of moisture near our home. The water I find soothing is what mother nature naturally provides. Soft raindrops pattering on the windows. Swirls of water frothing at the base of a waterfall. Clear streams tinkling over colorful rocks. River edges slapping the shoreline with the ebb and flow of hidden forces. Waves of Lake Superior rollicking over boulders and well worn stones. Time spent by the waterside is time well spent.

3) Playgrounds. There is nothing better than the sound of children playing without the accompaniment of technology. Teeter totters rhythmically thumping the ground, swings chiming in tempo with pumping legs and trapeze rings screeching with hang gliding thrills keep my ears serenaded. The chatter and giggling of kids lost in their own creation of play is the antidote to eyes glazed over with excessive screen time swashbuckling.

4) Silence. Technically, not a sound, I suppose, but it is difficult to dispute the calming influence of no noise at all. Mute the phone, shut off the TV, pause the playlist and test your ability to cope with your own thoughts. The best place to experience silence is away from the buzz of city life. Find a spot in the countryside in the gloaming hours. I can guarantee the stars will seem brighter than you've ever known and the voices in your head will stop shouting and begin to whisper gently, if at all. Soak up the calm.

I hope you are able to experience a few sounds of pleasantness this week. Savor the moments.

2 Pears

It is official. I have emblazoned upon my forehead the following statement. "Do NOT, under any circumstances, honor a coupon from this woman." My track record with coupon shopping has always been dismal at best, but last week's coupon debacle sealed the deal. Or rather, missed the deal.

I received a flier of coupons in the mail from my local grocery store. Big brother watches us now so several coupons were for items I regularly purchase. Amidst the standard 50-cents-off coupons was a rather large discount incentive. Purchase $150 worth of groceries and your bill will be slashed by $15. Sweet. I do not often purchase that amount of groceries in one trip but I needed a few big ticket items and it was a possibility my bill would hit the mark. Just in case I was a little short, I brought a few 50-cent coupons with me so I could use those instead.

After loading my cart with the necessary items, I made my way to the checkout counter. Immediately, I knew I was in for a dicey gauntlet when I recognized the cashier. She has notoriously nixed my coupons in the past, justly or not, with her steely gaze and long pause while she reads the fine print on whatever scrap I hand her way. She looked at me and asked her obligatory question, "Do you want your milk in a bag?"  I replied with my usual response, "No, thank you."

Let the games begin.

She slid each item across the scanner and I watched the dollar amount inch its way to the magic number. Finally, the total reached $149.20. I had 2 pears to go. She rolled those pears around enough to create a pear crumble but despite her best efforts, the total reached a few cents beyond $150.00. I had the big coupon laid out on the counter with the two smaller coupons as a backup. She scrunched her forehead as she read the fine print on the biggie (there wasn't any), frowned, put the coupon down and quickly scanned the two small coupons. She looked up at me and unflinchingly stated, "Sorry, you are under $150.00."  Even for her, this was a new low. I was so stunned I could not muster the wherewith all to respond coherently. As I completed the transaction I mumbled something about this being just plain dumb. She watched the machine spit out my receipt and handed it to me with nary a nod, smile or have a good day. Awash with incredulity, I trudged my way through the parking lot to my vehicle.

In hindsight, I should have demanded she void the two small coupons. I was feeling pressure by Ronnie Restless, the antsy customer in line behind me with two items and a huge thought bubble saying, "that lady better not get weird with her coupons." I also should have sought out the manager. Unfortunately, there is usually a choice of two possible managers on duty early Saturday morning. There is the lady who hides in the candy aisle so she doesn't have to help up front and the really cranky young one who tosses past expiration bread loaves on the floor with the zeal of the grim reaper. Thus, I chose not to do anything about my perceived injustice.

I will continue to shop at my neighborhood store because one bad apple does not represent the whole orchard. But next time, I will buy more than two pears if I want to seal the deal.

Ritual

Rituals can have a calming influence on many of us. I don't mean the kind that involves eating the raw liver of a freshly hunted deer or deciphering patterns of tea leaves. I am speaking of the little things we do that involve no overt thinking or decision making. A cup of black coffee in the morning. A bag of Cheetos on a road trip. Tea with mom on Saturday afternoons. Searching for the daily paper on my driveway (yes, we are the dinosaurs still getting hard copy news). Baking chocolate chip cookies when the larder is empty.

One ritual I held near and dear for many years was my time with the radio show Prairie Home Companion. Five o'clock on the dot most Saturdays found me perched on the corner of my couch with the radio remote in my hand. I settled in for a couple hours of musicians, storytelling and of course, the latest news from Lake Wobegon. One other component of my ritual was simultaneously watching the Funtime Polka hour on public television, sans volume. I lost myself in the visual zone of smiling folks twirling on the dance floor with the oom-pah-pahs of the Larry Olsen band and the auditory world of radio sketches and music. For two hours I put the world on pause and enjoyed my moments of escapism.

Last year, my ritual took a bit of a tumble. The long time host of Prairie Home, Garrison Keillor, passed the baton on to a new, hip young man, Chris Thile. Chris is a brilliant musician and a bundle of energy. His challenge of garnering a younger crowd for the iconic radio show is no small task. He has age on his side. Garrison was slowly losing his audience, not because of disinterest or disloyalty. Garrison's aging crowd was dying off and the show would go with it if a change wasn't made. Enter, Chris.

I have not completely abandoned my Saturday evening ritual. I am determined to give the new host a chance. He has had some great music and he kept most of the original radio acting crew for his sketches. His energy is boundless and the younger crowd seems to adore him. But, I miss Lake Wobegon. I miss looking up a new word used by Garrison in his monologue. I miss Garrison's sonorous voice and folksy style. I miss the lives of the hapless cowboys out on the range and Duane's tenuous relationship with his neurotic mom.

Last week I found myself a little lost at 5:00 on Saturday. The PHC show was a re-run of Chris's first show which had aired just a few months ago. I couldn't bring myself to listen to it again. Not because it was bad, it just wasn't my favorite. So, I grabbed my TV remote and switched to the Funtime Polka show and for the first time, I turned up the volume. I recognized my favorite dancers and the band but the tunes were refreshingly new to me. I heard the laughter and banter from the band. I heard the shuffling of tired, but energized feet on the dance floor. I hummed along to an old polka tune and I put the world on pause again.

Celebrate your rituals this week and feel free to add a new one or two. I won't judge.

E.F.

In a world of Pinterest, photoshopping and glossy blogs, it is easy to get lost in pseudo realities. I propose there are times when we need to embrace and celebrate just the opposite: Epic Fails. It is the antidote to the perfectionist insanity swirling about us on FB, Twitter, Instagram and Snap Chat. Fortunately, I have plenty of E.F.s to celebrate in my life. Here are a few of my learning opportunities.

1) Keeping Warm Lab--The objective of this science lesson is to test different insulating materials and determine which one is the most effective. It is a hands-on lesson involving hot water, beakers, graph paper, thermometers and a supply of materials to wrap around the beakers. After a detailed explanation of the procedural components of the lab and its safety requirements (glass is fragile and the water is warm!), the little Einsteins are turned loose and I await their eager responses. Apparently, I was speaking in Latin during the explanation phase of the lesson. Liesel and Claire start pouring hot water directly into the paper bag that is supposed to be wrapped around the beaker of water. Josie and her partner discover that no insulation keeps the water warmer than a layer of fleece around the beaker (due to using the Fahrenheit scale for one round and Celsius for the other). Jonas and Boris stare into space and keep repeating, "We have no idea what we are supposed to be doing." Emerging graphs look like Picasso sketches. Students begin wandering aimlessly during the "gather-data-from-other-teams phase. And, as if all of that wasn't glorious enough, I was being observed by my vice principal.

Epic fail and note to self, Hy-Vee is hiring.

2) Homemade almond paste--I tend to get a backlog of roasted almonds at my house due to my habit of picking them out of my favorite nut mix so I can eat just the pistachios. I love almonds, but next to a pistachio, it loses every time. I also love recipes with almond paste but rarely purchase it because of its princely price. Wouldn't it be great if one could make one's own almond paste from their leftover pile of almonds? A quick search on the internet resulted in just such a solution. The procedure seemed a little labor intensive, but the results looked wondrously delicious next to the blogger's cheery little face. So, I boiled my almonds. Cooled them. Painstakingly peeled the skin from each one. Ground them in the food processor. Added sugar and an egg white. Attempted to roll the whole unwieldy mess into a log. Took a sample taste. Spit it out. Tasted again, willing myself to like it. Spit it out one more time. Looked at the clock. Most of the day wasted.

Epic Fail and note to self, just buy pistachios.

3) Driving a stick shift--I grew up on a farm so I have no excuse for my ineptness with a manual transmission. My lack of coordination hindered my ability to use two feet and a shifter while giving the vehicle just the right amount of revs to move forward. Add to that a hill or an ice patch and I am toast. Multiple attempts at mastering the stick shift yielded results ranging from mildly annoying to endangerment to life and livestock.

Epic Fail and note to self, stay off the farm.

Hope you are enjoying your learning opportunities and don't let the media demons mess with your head.

Nots

It is the new year and I am training my hand to write 2017. I am not, however, training my paws to write New Year's resolutions. Rest assured I will not be guilt shaming you with lofty goals and action plans. Most days, I am the antithesis of action and my course is determined by the winds of successive moments. With a wink and a nod to the new year, here is a list of what I will not be doing in 2017.

1) I will not run, walk or crawl in a marathon--I am a toad in the world of fitness. I will do whatever it takes to avoid the inertia of moving. This is not healthy, I know, so I will begrudgingly grit my teeth through 30 minutes of fitness DVDs a few times a week. I see no results other than being able to truthfully tell my doctor that I exercise on a regular basis. I am convinced that hating exercise negates its healthful benefits but even toads have to hop once in awhile.

2) I will not eat eggplant--I love the beautiful color and unique shape of this cousin to the tomato and potato, but I cannot tolerate its taste and texture. I have parmesaned it, fried it, ratatoulled it, sauced it and stuffed it but I just cannot get past its mushy pulpiness and blah presence in dishes. I will stick to the ubiquitous zucchini when I am in the mood for unloved vegetables.

4) I will not be a fashionista--Take heart, co-workers, you will always look good standing next to me. I tend to be a little rumpled, coffee-stained and monochromatic. I might occasionally don a pair of earrings or a pair of matching socks, but most of my closet is the definition of dull.  It cuts down on coveting by others.

5) I will not be the cool teacher--I am clueless about the latest music, latest technology, latest beverage trend and newly released movies. I have old-fashioned ideas about awarding too many trophies, staring at computer screens and expecting all learning to be fun. I secretly miss spelling tests and cursive writing.  And I will never understand the importance of name brand anything. Unless it's Cheerios. I just can't eat Tasteeos and feel good about it.

6) I will not get a tan--I am an albino without the pink eyes. Despite attempts in my younger years to develop a little bronzing from the sun, the best I have ever produced is a wicked sunburn with the shaggy aftermath of peeling skin. Fortunately, heavy duty tanning has fallen out of favor with the medical community so I can sport my white limbs without fear of complete mockery.

7) I will not buy another bag of Cheetos--Okay, this is a lie. I have no intentions of abandoning my little neon orange friends. Yes, I said friends. My life is shallow and a therapy session or two should probably be on my calendar for such nonsense but that would be another not going to happen. I am just not ready to give up the joy of cheese dusted fingertips.


Here's to a new year and not feeling bad about being less than perfect! Enjoy your "nots" in 2017.

Plans

(Warning: My photos will be more pathetic than usual due to an unfortunate
incident with my sad little camera. I am using my semi-dumb phone in the meantime.)

Living in the upper Midwest during the winter months means staying flexible with travel plans. Last weekend, we were looking forward to attending my nephew's out of town wedding. A personal day for me was requested and approved. A hotel room was booked. Sub plans were made. Anticipation of seeing my far-flung family was brewing. And then winter storm Decima huffed and puffed her way across the upper plains. We did as all mid-westerners do when a storm is imminent, check the weather, check the weather and check the weather again, The forecast was not good. The word "breezy" used by our weathermen is a bad sign. Air temperatures of 25 degrees below zero, also not so good. Add to the mix, several inches of downy snow and we have the trifecta of nasty travel. Slowly, I wrapped my head around the fact that we were not going to attend the wedding. The hotel room was cancelled. The suitcase was returned to its dusty shelf. Messages were sent to the wedding party regarding our disappointment. Plan B would be the plan. No wedding.

The good news is my college nieces were able to make their ten hour drive to our house before the storm hit. Their parents live in a different country so we are blessed to have them around when they need a place to hang out. Seeing their car pull into our driveway and watching them lug suitcases, piles of blankets and personal goods into the house took the sting out of Plan B. Hugs and relief for safe travels were shared as they wrestled their belongings into new spaces. Their glazed eyes and weary bodies made it clear they needed a good night's rest and some home cooked meals.

As I write this post on the day after their arrival, my heart is experiencing great peace. Niece #1 is tap-tap-tapping away on her laptop. She has two more papers to write and submit before midnight tonight (official end of the semester). I asked her if she does her best work when the wolf is at her door and she replied, "Yes, but you have to be careful. Sometimes the wolf eats you." Niece #2 is strumming away on her ukulele, experimenting with vocalizations and different chord patterns. Look out Don Ho!

The fragrance of cookies baking in the oven permeates the house in anticipation of Christmas treat trays to come. Quality control sampling is enjoyed. Okay, I confess, we are going a little beyond sampling. We will just adjust the size of our Christmas trays. Or bake some more. A hotdish made of meat, potatoes and carrots, affectionately dubbed "comfort casserole" by my nieces, awaits its turn in the baking chamber for a hearty evening meal.

A glance out the window confirms Decima's arrival. Fluffy flakes of snow drift and swirl as the winds whisper their blustery intentions. The downward march of the temperature reminds me the forecast of 25° below zero is quite probable. Birds flit in and out of my bird feeding station as they frantically gorge themselves in anticipation of things to come. A regal hawk swoops in and perches on the deck railing. His gaze confirms his place in the food chain. The little birds stay hidden until the coast is finally clear.

Whether you are experiencing Plan A, B or Z this holiday season, my wish for you is a very Merry Christmas! Eat cookies, drink tea and play the ukulele if you happen to find one handy.

Faves

Despite my tendency to eschew all things tinsel and holiday, I do find myself getting caught up in a few favorite traditions each year for the Christmas season. Mind you, I haven't sent a Christmas card in twenty years and I only put up a Christmas tree (miniature and artificial) if my son-in-law and daughter are making the long trip home. This year, the only thing that hints of Christmas at my house is the poinsettia plant my long-suffering husband purchased in an attempt to brighten up my beige world. I will, however, participate in the following traditions. Maybe.

1) Fudge--Who doesn't love a pound of butter, three cups of sugar, cream and a bag of chocolate chips melted and poured into a baking dish? Sometimes I have to make two batches because the first round doesn't last long enough to make it to the family gatherings. Oops.

2)  Wild Rice Soup--More cream and butter, please. Onions, celery, mushrooms and wild rice add a little healthy to the mix. It's the perfect way to add some cozy to Christmas Eve. And it is crockpot friendly, so easy peasy. 

3)  Holiday movies--My husband cannot pass up "It's a Wonderful Life." I get a little weary of Clarence floundering around in the snow and tinkly bells ringing, but it is undoubtedly a classic. I prefer "The Christmas Story" with tongues stuck to flag poles and perilous BB guns. Ralphie's decoder ring reminds us all how important Ovaltine is in our lives. 

4)  Chocolate covered cherries--Oozy liquid goo surrounding neon cherry centers is just wrong. But somehow a box of these always lands in my shopping cart.  I mumble something to the checkout lady about needing a last minute gift. Moments later, my chin is painted with a little cherry drizzle and it's game over. Good thing the boxes are rather small.

5) Schaums Christmas Cameos--During my 7th grade year (don't even try to do the math on that one), I received two Christmas piano music books. A recording went with them so I could hear what the songs were really supposed to sound like if executed properly. I never attained such perfection but every Christmas I dust off my books and play the songs once again. The pages have become soft with wear and the covers are long gone, but "What Child Is This" never gets old.

6) Calm--This one cannot be baked, bought or borrowed. It demands a little soul searching and prioritizing. I like to filter my choices with the simple question, "Is this really necessary?" Coffee and a good book definitely stay on my "to do" list. Decorated, rollout cookies, not so much.

Be courageous and trim a little craziness from your schedule. If you like wrapping gifts, go for it. If you don't, stick with gift bags or better yet, cut down on your gift list. If you like decorating, adorn to your heart's content. If not, gaze upon your favorite potted plant or photograph. If baking isn't your thing, buy a few treats and some peppermint stick ice cream. No woman should be measured by her ability to create the perfect holiday for others.