On Sunday I took a walk at the golf course and found the most fantastic piece of deer “shed.” It was lying in the meadow, completely exposed and bleached white, a four-point rack from a buck. I could scarcely believe it was just there in grass, there where no one else had seen or taken it. I picked it up, surprised by the smoothness, and accepted it as a gift from the universe. You know, because that’s the kind of relationship the universe and I have.
I’m completely convinced that I was rewarded for something that happened a couple of days ago. I had been at the grocery store picking up what I needed for Christmas Eve dinner and noticed the deli counter was featuring two different prosciuttos. The price per pound difference between the two was significant so I asked if I could sample both. As expected, the $19.99 per lb version was significantly better – less salty, more tender. You know, better. I placed my ordered and happened to catch the clerk ringing my purchase up and couldn’t help but see that she entered the wrong PLU. Instead of prosciutto she keyed in the code for pancetta, an item that was only $11.99 a pound.
Enter moral dilemma…
There was a significant line of folks behind me looking to order and I didn’t want to hold anyone up. I also was hesitant to point out the mistake in front of a crowd of people. I didn’t say anything.
I finished shopping, debating internally the whole while, and selected a register, unloading my cart onto the conveyer belt. I gave the clerk my coupons and rewards card and the
pancetta prosciutto. I told her a mistake had been made and that the package was mislabeled and therefor mispriced. She called a manager over to make the price adjustment, but first the employee asked me if I knew the correct price. I did and shared it with her. She looked at me. With an expression of disbelief, she asked me another question “So, you want to pay more?”
Well, yeah. I don’t mind paying for what I receive and I don’t need to invite bad karma or negative energy or something gained from an unethical exchange into my life. No, thanks on that.
The manager warmly told me to “get out” and not to worry about the discrepancy and I think we both felt better about humanity in general by our exchange.
The very next day, I found my shed on a path I infrequently walk. Undoubtably, it was an acknowledgment from the universe of the correctness of my action. Incidents like this communicate to me that sometimes you truly do get back what you put out in terms of energy. It doesn’t always work like this for me or anyone else, but if you keep your eyes open you may find an opportunity to do the right thing, as well as a sign from nature that you made the right choice.
Enough writing. It’s time to look out the train window and see if I can spot more bald eagles. I already was lucky enough to see one.
Filed under Albany, beauty, Christmas, Dinner, holidays, Local, musings, Observations, Random, Recommendations, Uncategorized, upstate New York, winter
- My travels have taken me new places and I am so appreciative of the memories I made and the food I ate and the wine I drank and the friends I hugged.
- Cape Cod without children is like shared custody following the end of a marriage/relationship – a dirty little secret in all the best ways. (Credit to LGP for the custody thing)
- Summer is a time for me to take on larger household chores, such as organizing and weeding out extraneous stuff that can weigh a person down. During these tasks I always stumble upon things I find interesting – like my journals from the early 90s.
- One of the most important parts of summer, for me, is spending time with people I don’t always have the luxury of seeing. Pool dates, lunches and nights out with friends, have made Summer 2018 exceptionally special.
- Being reminded of past heartbreaks and lessons learned can be really comforting. I think that every relationship that I was in that “failed” was followed by a much better personal situation. Sky’s the limit. Full steam ahead.
- It’s been a hot summer and I’m fortunate to not have to work in what have been extreme temperatures. I’ve been able to accept the heat without needing to fight it. Night runs have been tremendous and I’ve mastered closing up the house to keep it cool during the daytime. It’s summer. I like when the seasons perform as expected.
- In the last week or so, I’ve encountered a number of work friends and a couple of students. Seeing them reminded me what the very best part of my job is – the people with whom I’m lucky enough to work.
- There are some ways in which I feel like a different person, as if I’m evolving into a new, hopefully best, version of myself. Some of it originates with physical change – different hair, new car, but more of it comes from having been through a lot emotionally and feeling a little less naive. Currently doing my best to retain and refocus “wonder” as a word of future possibility instead of rear-view second guessing.
- Authenticity is topping the list of new words in my vernacular these days. It appears above catfishing and intentional mind fuck, not just for alphabetical reasons either. Authenticity deserves its own damn blog post. Stay tuned for that.
Filed under aging, Austria, Cape Cod, concerts, DelSo, Eating, Europe, family, favorites, friends, Germany, love, musings, Observations, Random, relationships, road trips, Saratoga, Schools, Summer, travel, Uncategorized, upstate New York, vacation
We’re going with definition 2. Let’s be positive.
You know how tropical places are reputed to have a very ambling sort of pace? People wear clothing that flaps in an island breeze or exposes skin to the sun and there is a glisten to everything your eye finds. It just feels sensual, but in an organic kind of way. Not posey. More passionate.
I like walks when it’s hot – they’re slower and from the hips, not the shoulders as it is in colder temperatures. While I appreciate the sexiness of staccato heels and a fast gait, flats and a sway of the hips are at least equaling appealing, I think. And it feels so much better.
When it’s been 80+ degrees for 42 consecutive days, you’ve just got to learn how to live with it. Maybe it’s air conditioning or a camp on a lake, but there’s probably some method you’ve devised to get through it. For me, it’s become about acceptance and appreciation. Which makes sense since those are really crucial parts of my overall thought process when it comes to emotional things. Having it be consistent with my physical comfort and well-being seems almost crazy sane.
I’ve run when I could, and walked or cycled a bit more than typical, and it’s been great. Some days I shower three times. I’ve heard some describe the weather as “oppressively hot”weather but I’ve decided that my takeaway is that it’s summer. We’re having summer weather and, while it can be destructive and unpredictable, it really is characteristic for July and August. And – next month this hot spell will be a blip in your rear view mirror and you’ll be wearing jeans again.
It’s obvious the Europeans are more advanced than we are – many of them take a substantial amount of time off in August. I wish everyone had that same opportunity. It would probably make for a more civilized world, frizzy hair and all.
How are you coping?
Filed under aging, Albany, beauty, Exercise, Local, musings, Observations, Random, running, Summer, upstate New York
There’s something about dense humidity that takes over my body. All I want to do is meander at my very own pace. I can almost understand the concept of a summer romance when the weather is like this – who wants to commit their attention beyond the current heat spell? Who can?
At the halfway+ part of summer, it seems like time to begin taking care of some of the tasks you’d swore you’d get to during break…dusting and cleaning the ceiling fan paddles, cabinet fronts and all those book shelves for starters. It always feels good this time of year to lighten my load – weed out possessions no longer serving a purpose. I like to also stock up on white T-shirt’s and tops for next summer. This year’s always look a little dull by August.
But, when the outdoor air is swampy and everything in your house feels sticky, it is really hard to get motivated to do much of anything other than sit on the deck that feels like a secret treehouse and flit between writing and reading for an indulgent amount of time. It’s summer.
While I’m feeling mostly lazy, all of my plants are currently going crazy. There’s so much energy and growth coming off of them that it’s practically palpable. Leaves are glossy, tendrils are gripping, and they each seem to have their own relationship with the sun. The rain may have drenched them, but they keep reaching for the sky, undiscouraged.
Sitting around, watching for a visit from the cardinal who always brings me peace, surrounded by plants on another relaxed summer day, is an exceptional reward for doing some routine chores. Lush. Life. Lucky.
Yesterday I wore a sweater which definitely had seen better days. There were more than a couple of small, random holes (moths? burns?) that made it beyond repair. I almost took it off and discarded it, but instead made the decision to wear that sweater one last time, rationalizing that most of the damage would be difficult to detect without closer inspection. I didn’t expect anyone to be too near me anyway.
I paired my sweater with skinny jeans and a pair of flats with oversized bows that make me smile. It was a comfortable outfit that made me feel good and I garnered a couple of nice compliments from friends. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I could see what others had remarked upon – I did look pretty, despite the less than perfect state of my sweater.
At the end of my day, I undressed and looked over the sweater. There was no hope of making the fabric whole again, a fact that I understood and accepted. On the last day that my sweater would ever be worn, it was worn with awareness and appreciation for the way I felt when I was within it. I knew that I would never again wear that particular garment, but was consoled by the knowledge that I had worn the sh*t out of that black sweater for many years. It had rewarded me with a last “hug,” along with a lesson to remember to be appreciative of the now.
Articles of clothing, time spent with loved ones, relationships – if you knew that it was the last time, would you do things differently? Is there a different level of honor that would be present if you were aware that you were never going to experience something ever again? Should there be?
Yesterday I did something that scared me. And then I did it again. And again and again for a total of four times. The first time I did it, I was slightly less frightened than I had been on the chairlift. I don’t like heights. Actually riding the chairlift made getting on and off the chairlift (2 things that always prompt me to feel anxious) seem pretty mild in terms of fear generated. I was so afraid, as I rode the chairlift up to the top of the mountain, that I couldn’t even look behind myself to see the view. I tried to snap a photo without turning my head on my way up the mountain, but it really didn’t work out too well.
I went skiing by myself. In Vermont.
Why would I do something that makes me feel so fearful? What’s the point of pushing so far outside of my comfort zone?
Because the sun was shining and the air was fresh and I had a voucher that made my couple of hours cost practically nothing. Because none of the friends I was “weekending” with wanted to come. Because the mountain was 15 minutes from the hotel and hardly anyone else was there so late in the season. Because I wanted the experience. Because I couldn’t see the view until I reached the top of the mountain.
I took the green one on the left.
During my four runs down the mountain, I saw the weather change three times. I navigated around the icy spots and basically remained in control of my skis most of the time. When I fell, after sliding a fair bit on the slick snow completely out of control, I figured out how to pick myself up. It was a challenge and I did it.
I went skiing by myself. In Vermont.
Whenever someone says to me “I have a weird question,” I always interrupt and tell them that I hope they don’t disappoint me. If you say it’s going to be weird, please let it be so. Now that I’ve preset you for weirdness, let me tell you what happened yesterday during my run…
I was about 3 miles in as I approached the intersection of New Scotland Avenue and South Manning Blvd. The light was green, which prevented me from immediately crossing the street, so I took a moment to stretch, something I’ve done in this very same spot countless times. Because my hips and glutes are where I need the most attention, my technique is as follows: place my hands around a nearby pole, clasp them together and then kind of sit back into an almost a seated position, sort of making my body into an upside down L.
Well, imagine my surprise when, as I settled into my stretch, the pole I was holding onto snapped at the base and fell towards me! I swear I don’t know what prevented me from getting seriously injured by the heavy metal post as it came at me. Somehow I moved my body to the left just in time and the post barely grazed my right shoulder and hand before it hit the ground. Holy crap.
I looked at the base where the pole had snapped and there was an irregular line completely around the base where it had broken. I like to think of myself as strong, but, seriously? I can’t claim to have used brute strength to snap a metal pole – no way. A woman who witnessed what had happened, called out from her van checking to make certain that I was ok. I was. I am. She agreed that I should call 911 to share what had happened, which I did. I told the person who answered my call that I had something weird to tell them.