Spring is springing despite the fact that here in the Northeast we are in the midst of an aptly named nor’easter. For us on the South Shore it means a lot (more) of rain, a seemingly very angry wind, and likely more TLC for the aging sump pump in the basement. Last weekend’s deluge saw me taking some 50+ (per my Apple watch) trips to the basement to encourage it, run the backup pump, do some mopping, etc. But for now the very gusty wind seems to be blowing the rain sideways and back up so that might help. 🤣
Calling Auntie Em…Auntie Em.
Anyhow…good times.
Nothing like electricity and water, right?
Needless to say, we’re on the plumber’s list for a visit as soon as he has time.
In between the raindrops I’ve been getting in lots of walking, ever encouraged by the changing (most notably the greening of the browns) and pops of (damn…those purple things (and daffodils!) are hearty buggers) color.
One thing that I noticed this spring is that the branches that seem to turn green first are the ones with thorns. They really stand out in the sea of brown tangles of hibernation.
It got me thinking about people. If you’re thorny, and you show your true colors early, you give yourself away—making it very easy for people to avoid you and to work around you, without waiting to see how beautifully you’ll bloom. Eventually.
My thought patterns of late seem to share some characteristics with what I see on my walks—twisted, tangled, and thorny things, with an occasional bright spot.
So here are my Thursday thoughts, in no particular order:
The DPW had to do something with a storm drain on our property (easement) yesterday. One of the trucks parked across the end of the driveway, something I could see from my desk as I “worked.” My chest was tight, my mouth was dry, my breathing was shallow. I felt so pinned in, so trapped. Even though I had nowhere to go. Such an awful feeling, but perhaps there’s a tradeoff. Maybe the work they do will alleviate some of the aforementioned basement water challenges (and so far so good 🤞🏼). Watching them work (3 trucks, not sure how many workers, and one storm drain) has me pretty convinced that my tax dollars might not always be used that efficiently. But the lead guy did promise Kerri he’d make it look nice so her husband wouldn’t get annoyed by it when he was out at his putting green. Which took me back to a question I pondered relative to how we decide to act (or not) in something I wrote about yesterday: “Is that assumed or confirmed?” 🤣🤣🤣 This exchange gave me a whole other way to think about what happens when we assume something versus when we put in the time and effort to actually confirm something (else)…and how taking that time and making that effort sometimes really matters. And sometimes it doesn’t. In this case, I used it to my advantage, as in “Best not destroy this guy’s image of you and your husband, so I should probably stay hidden and you can take out the trash and recyclables.” (Though I did clean out the old stuff in the fridge to pitch in.) 😂😂😂
Speaking of awkward exchanges, here’s another one. It’s awkward mainly because it’s a bit vulgar, which may have you thinking “then just don't talk about it.” But I can't ignore the orangutan in the room. It's all over the national news…it's everywhere I look…unavoidable. It’s about the Cheeto’s repeated attempts at what I think is a fist pump but that ends up looking more like a cross between the gestures for two, er, sexual, er, “jobs”…one that rhymes with “Joe” and the other with “land.” Pictures don’t lie…and it took me virtually no time to find this assortment. Plus there were plenty of other options to choose from. (Bottom right is by far my “favorite.”) Am I wrong???
Maybe he has some shoulder mobility issues or whatever, but still I’m skeptical of a guy who can’t fist pump, high five, clap, or give a thumbs up without somehow mangling the gesture…not to mention that he can’t wear a baseball hat quite right either. As the kids today say, that’s sus. (And what’s up with his becoming a one-man QVC, what with the sneakers and bibles he’s been shilling?)
Continuing with awkward things for $1000, Ken…this happened two years ago but is just breaking recently…one (still) conjoined twin got married. I have so many questions. So. Many. That is all.
Speaking of ripping things from the headlines, here’s another recent story from the news that didn’t make my brain confused at all and instead makes my heart happy.
Speaking of TV news…wait. Matt Noyes is gone? Not on vacation? What? When the friendly face who has delivered your morning weather for what seems like forever vanishes, you notice. The new guy seems fine. But change is hard and trust takes time—local meteorology is no exception. (Boy, do we get attached to even the most mindless and meaningless routines.)
Here’s a story I heard on that local morning news show (without Matt). Prices at the Dollar Store are going up up up. First of all, there’s the obvious branding lesson. Whoops. “Dollar* Store”? “Not a Dollar Store”? “Under 10 Dollars Store”? “You Get What You Get and You Don’t Get Upset Store”? Practically speaking, I get that the jig on the “everything’s a dollar!” is up. That shouldn’t surprise anyone. At least not anyone who has bought eggs or bread or milk or butter or gas or clothes or, well, anything in the last five years. That said, they’re now pricing like a regular store, and the fact that what drove them to this was (allegedly) the number of high-income people shopping there is a real kicker. If wealthy people enjoy a good deal, why punish the people who actually can’t afford more than a buck for necessities? I’m not sure what the answer is but I feel like, “stuff is more expensive, we have to raise prices” would have sat better with me than “too many rich people buying cheap sh-t” as the rationale.
Speaking of money, some colleges are going to cost $90K/year, a staggering figure that hardly seems worth it, to be honest. As someone who paid roughly $14K/year to go to one of the (alleged) best liberal arts colleges in the country, as someone who never established a traditional career, and as someone who can’t seem to find or keep a job, well, something’s broken. And it isn’t me. I know there’s opportunity to go into the trades. I know the pandemic taught us what workers were actually essential. But still as a society we insist that these white collar paper pushing jobs are the be all and end all for defining success and healthy self-identity. That’s f-cked up. (Also, I may not be broken but I well may be a touch bitter. And I can’t not keep a job, though I am on a string of losing them. 🤦🏼♀️🤷🏼♀️)
Speaking of greed, what is going on with Steward Health here in MA? I mean, I know what’s going on, but it leaves no question that ego and greed (whether in a for profit or not for profit organization) are toxic. All this is highlighting the inequity and systemic nature of the problems with our healthcare systems. “We’re really sorry you have cancer but if you get your treatment in Brockton, we’re really sorry not sorry. We’re suspending treatment there. Have a nice day.” The CEO is rolling in the dough while all this is happening. It’s disgusting. It’s also broken and it needs fixing.
Speaking of broken things that need fixing, how about the Francis Scott Key Bridge collapse? Holy mackerel. The ship was going 9 MPH, slower than some people can run (though much faster than I do). Which was fast enough to take out an entire bridge and six lives in an instant. The physics of that are amazing, even to this former English major. The ship was roughly the length of a football field, weighed over 200 million pounds…going a mere 9 MPH…and it delivered the force of a rocket launch. I can’t even. That bridge came down like it was made of pipe cleaners. But the lingering question for me is one I saw on social media—why will it take 10 years to rebuild a bridge that took five years to build the first time around? (Numbers might not be right but they are directionally accurate.) Where’s the advancement and improvement we Americans so often gloat about??? Also, God bless those who died in the accident, and to the families and loved ones they leave behind. Their lives are changed forever, a pain and a loss that will far outlast the news cycle. It’s important to remember that very sad fact any time tragedy strikes—for the people impacted, the story never ends. We forget. We move on. They don’t. They can’t.
New subject. I’ve always (rightly or wrongly) leaned on the cardigan as a versatile wardrobe staple. Goes with any and everything, if you use “goes” very loosely. Now I come to find out this “style” of dress is an actual trend, with a name: “grandpa chic.” I’m pretty sure when I do it it’s more “grandpa takes a weekend at Bernie’s” but still. I’m ahead of the game but way off the mark, per usual.
Taking it offline (as “they” so annoyingly say in the biz world), I still believe in writing stuff by hand and sending cards and notes when the spirit moves me. I recently found such a card, wrote a note, and walked down to the mailbox with it. A few days later, as I was reading Think Like a Monk by Jay Shetty, I came across a bit about saying thank you, and in being specific in detailing our gratitude. He gives an example of someone being invited to something and feeling joy at being included. In turn, that person expresses thanks in the form of a note, delivering joy back to the host. “For each of you, gratitude comes from realizing someone else is invested in you. It’s a feedback loop of love.” Reading this a few days after I had put my note in the mail made me feel part of something so much more special than I was already aware of. Perspective is such a wonderful thing. Here I was thinking I was pretty grateful and then suddenly I was even more grateful. And it feels good. Go figure.
There appears to be some confusion by what is meant by “hands-free” as it relates to driving. Allow me to clarify—your hands are to be free of your phone, not free of the steering wheel. It’s really pretty simple once you know that. And if you need an additional reason it’s because distracted driving can be deadly. Why take the risk? I’d rather Siri dreadfully and drastically misunderstands my Boston “accent” than ram the car in front of me (or worse) as I physically hit “send” on a grammatically pristine text.
FYI, not liking dogs does not make me a bad person. Other things might, but not that. Seriously, I was not raised around dogs, am allergic, etc., etc. so I don’t find it cute when you let your dog run off leash and jump on me. The fact that he or she is friendly notwithstanding, why do you think the rules don’t apply to you and why do you think I like it? Also, barking dogs are the equivalent to crying babies at breweries—take them outside until they can behave. And, unlike babies, feel free to leave them in the car.
Bored? Call me. I’d love to catch up. Seriously, though, if you have time and a friend you want to talk to, call them. I don’t care if you’re killing time on a drive or bored at work—if that’s what gives you the time needed to focus on someone else, don’t feel bad about it. Go ahead. Do it. Call the person you’re thinking about. (Unless the someone you really want to talk to hates talking on the phone. Then just send them a text. Or a meme.)
Lots of new music is coming out and the talk of the town is Queen B’s Cowboy Carter. It’s genre pushing, for sure, and I say it’s so groundbreaking she’s created a whole new genre that needs a name. I had an interesting convo with a younger friend who respectfully disagreed—why label it or put her in a box? Fair point. But TBH I think if we can name this new genre we might see more artists inspired by and aspiring to new heights. Either way—it’s genius.
Speaking of music, I was also talking with this same friend about karaoke and that conversation quickly evolved (devolved) into us creating a “Should I sing it?” karaoke decision-making flow chart on the fly. Bottom line? Don’t know all the words, don’t sing it. Whether you or the audience or both are/is a little tipsy so who cares?, or if you love this song, or if you are wearing a cute outfit you want to get up on stage in—if you don’t know all the words, don’t do it. If you don’t know all the words you won’t be able to get the melody, and you’re gonna tank—there’s nothing cute or fun or funny about that. This is why “Country Roads” is my go-to karaoke song. I can sing it in my sleep. And I probably do.
Speaking of things we talked about (it had been a while so we were all over the map when we meet for beers at local brewery on Tuesday), do you have a NYT games order and if so what is it? For me it’s Wordle, then Spelling Bee, and then Connections in the morning, the crossword (not the mini) in the evening, and if time allows (meaning Spelling Bee and the crossword are done), I’ll do the easy Sudoku (which strangely I can complete quite quickly, yet cannot complete the medium one, ever). My friend’s order is Wordle, Connections, Mini Crossword. No Spelling Bee. What? (We can still be friends but what a travesty.) Speaking of mindless and meaningless routines…as noted in #5 above. 🤦🏼♀️🤷🏼♀️
Speaking of the crossword…does anyone else *have* to start with the down clues and not the across ones?
We’re in the home stretch with March Madness, and it hasn’t been without its usual share of drama. And it’s great to see the women’s in the mix, garnering as much attention and delivering just as much of that drama as the men’s side of the house. I need to get my Caitlin Clark “You break it you own it” t-shirt ready for the weekend…I’m rooting both for Iowa and against UCONN, so I feel like I’ll be more emotionally invested in this game than I should be. But it will be a fun watch either way. One thing I especially love is that both men’s and women’s teams from NC State are in the Final 4; because of that there’s been so much talk about Jimmy V. I remember him in health and sickness, and I love seeing his memory kept so vividly alive. Also, cancer sucks.
I’m going to stop at 19 today because my youngest niece wears #19 on her soccer uniform and she just started her senior season this week, with Opening Day this past Tuesday. Tip of the hat to her for a strong finish to a long and fun “career.”
And a tip of that hat to each of you for your commitment and support of me, even when I don’t make it easy. It may not always seem so, but I am a better person because of each of you. Your presence here gives me just what I need, and often when I don’t know that I need it. For that I thank you. I wish you a very happy Friday Eve. And I hope, if you’re in the path of this storm, you come out of it unscathed.
Love you too.