Today I had an impromptu therapy session in my hair stylist’s chair.
Only one in the salon first thing this morning, and we just started talking and one story leads to another story leads to another! I didn’t realize I felt such a need to unburden myself but I know she is a great listener. We live in the same town, and know some of the same players and so share our opinions or fill in the gaps of knowledge.
If there had been another stylist and customer in the next chair, we would have all been chatting superficially, but because we were alone, we could talk as much and as loud (over the hair dryer) as we needed to.
I can be a clam, never wanting to reveal too much, or any, of my emotions because I’ll obsess about whether I “said too much”. Always measuring my words. It felt good to just talk.
I have written twice about my inability to “do math”. Here and more recently, here. It all started, I thought, in third grade with long division. But I learned something today that might have derailed me earlier than that.
During his sermon, the deacon at church used his 1960s self getting a correct answer to a math problem and his teacher saying, “You got it! You Understand!”, as an example of disciples and townspeople believing Jesus’ resurrection. He appears before two followers on their way to Emmaus. They notify the eleven apostles, who tell the two men that Jesus appeared to Peter. While this is happening, Jesus appears again. The two men got it, they understood now what was happening. Not unlike Deacon Etzerheld’s new found understanding of “New Math”.
What was New Math and did everyone have trouble? New Math is described as “a dramatic but temporary change in the way mathematics was taught in grade schools which started in France and stress to many other countries between 1950s and 1970s. What happened to if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it?
I was probably too young to have experienced the effects of new math, but what about my teacher? Or was third grade math still simple enough to teach, and for most of her students, easy enough to learn that it didn’t create issues.
I thought I was on to something until I realized New Math was likely on its way out the door by the time I arrived for the hard stuff. Long Division.
Me on the left, my twin on the right. About the age I started suffering with math.
Today I met a friend for our monthly brunch at a small, but wonderful, bakery cafe called Flour Girl Cafe in Hebron, the middle of the state and halfway from both of our homes. Forty-one miles from home with about half and half highway to back roads.
We manage to talk non-stop for two hours when we meet each month, it’s amazing how the time flies.
Next up was a ride south to trade some skirts I had bought online in early December from my favorite store, Haystacks in Essex. Twenty-eight miles between destinations. Winding back roads most of the way, including a nice ride on the metal bridge over the Connecticut River.
The skirts and dresses at this store are stretchy and are reversible! I love them for summer. I ordered these two skirts online in December but just tried them on last week. I had bought a larger size and realized, they were too big! Even though they had a 30 day return policy, I explained the tags were still on, I loved their clothes, so they allowed for a swap. In gratitude, I bought a new dress!
Heading home was another thirty-six miles along the back roads on a gorgeous spring day.
I love driving by myself. I mean, I enjoy company in the car or being driven around, but there’s something so freeing about driving around back roads by myself. Music on (Mumford and Sons!), windows partially open, and just feeling so free and in control.
I am short. I hit my full 4’11” in sixth grade after a 4” growth spurt and it was all down hill from there. I blame my twin. If there weren’t two of us, I might have been taller. She disagrees with me.
Inside my body I don’t feel short and when I see pictures I don’t always feel short. But when I see short people next to average sized people in real life, I think, “holy crap! Is that what I look like?” Like do people think to themselves, “that is one short person!”
A plus to it is, I think anyway, that people think I’m younger than I actually am. People usually subtract 10 years when they say, “I thought you were _____”. The minus, I usually act younger than I actually am. And emotionally? Well, I think it’s around 12 or 13! But that’s a story for another day.
The worst part, the worst!, of being short is that pants are always too long. And I can’t buy them in stores because if they make petite or short, they are online.
Petite. Ha! Petite for 5’2” and under. Yet online they will say “the model wearing these is 5’10” and wearing a size 4 petite. Huh??
It’s not all doom and gloom though. There are some good brands that make “petite short” and “regular short” for those not-quite-petite short people. I’ll put myself in that category depending on the brand. I have managed to find them over the years and hang onto every pair for dear life!
But there’s the thing. After spending almost a lifetime wearing pants that are just “thismuch” too long, when I wear a pair that is the proper recommended length, I feel like my pants are too short because I’m overweight.
If you’re a shorty, you know what I mean. Or maybe I’m just crazy.
Me and my twin maybe 7 or 8 at Mystic Seaport. I’m on the right
It was a wonderful day that started off with 7:30 am mass. It was packed! The altar was beautiful with forsythia surrounded by hydrangeas of blue and pink. Two of my favorites.
Father Lane served mass, and he’s a favorite of mine. We were sprinkled with holy water and surrounded by incense during the service. Yes, it’s been a long time since I experienced an Easter morning at church and I’m grateful to be back.
After I got home, I had breakfast and a second cup of coffee both tiding me over until the Easter feast at my sister’s house. Small crowd – 17 people – with enough food for 30.
We stick with the Polish traditions of kielbasa, ham, pierogis, hard rolls, rye bread, and babka, and there is something for everyone! There are plenty of desserts like Hungarian cookies and little cherry cheesecakes. Everyone goes home with leftovers!
It’s a mix of parents and children and one grandchild and as various types of in-laws we’ve known each other for over 40 years and have become good friends as well as family.
We left for home with our care package of food. The women’s basketball final between South Carolina and UCLA was on so we changed into our comfy clothes, and settled in with some leftovers. We were happy with the outcome of the game.
My mother died on April 4, 1987 from brain cancer. It was an eight week blur from the hospital for tests on Day 1 to her death at home.
22 years, 11 months and 24 days later, a total of 8,394 days, my father died on March 28, 2010 of a heart attack.
In the years in between, he retired, played a lot of golf, had a small picture framing business in the basement, and got to meet and enjoy his five grandchildren.
But in the last 12 years of his life, he slowly declined. A knee replacement slowed him down, triple bypass, peripheral arterial disease took his left leg, but he kept moving along in his scooter at his assisted living facility. Until a heart attack, “an angel’s kiss”, sent him on his way to heaven.
My theory is, my mother was waiting for him all these years, but he didn’t want to leave his girls. He lost his mother when he was three, and his father just before his 11th birthday. Even though we were in our early 50s, I think he just didn’t want to leave. Finally she said, “it’s time, they’re all fine”.
Every year, this week brings up the memories of how much we loved them and miss them.
Every morning I head next door to our work out room. It’s a short walk out the door, around the corner of the house, and down 6 or 7 steps to the garage with the room above.
When I open the door, I turn on the light in the entrance but head upstairs in the dark as I anticipate my 10 minute morning meditation.
One morning while doing my mediation, I heard a key in the door downstairs. I thought it was early for my husband to be here as he’s usually 20 minutes behind me. I heard, “Nanc! Are you up there?!”. I thought, “what the heck?!” and said through gritted teeth, “yes! I’m meditating!”. He shut the door and left.
Unbeknownst to me, he watches every morning for the light at the door to go on! This particular morning, I must have been distracted, and didn’t turn it on. At first, he thought maybe I fell on the steps because in the winter they can get slippery. When he looked out and didn’t see my body lying on the ground, he remembered a car went by around the same time and he was afraid someone came and kidnapped me!
We had a good laugh about it while he was explaining himself. It’s a nice feeling to know that after 39 years, he’s watching out for me.
Green Giant changed their packaging for Riced Cauliflower to “Riced Veggies” with a smaller caption three quarters of the way down to tell us it is Cauliflower.
New Look! Same Great Taste! Same Product!
Naturally, I had to check online to see exactly what other vegetables are capable of being riced. None. But there are items such as Riced Cauliflower with peas and carrots (not riced!), and Riced Cauliflower with broccolini, and Riced Cauliflower with risotto.
In all fairness, I did see online that older packages of Riced Cauliflower do include “Riced Veggies” but the actual product is included right below the title which makes it a little easier to grab and go.
Old packaging
Lest you all think I’m wandering the aisles looking for my Riced Cauliflower, I’m not. I don’t do the grocery shopping! But changes like this do make me wonder whose bright idea it was to put what the name of the actual item is so far down the package. How much did the change cost for marketing and production.
I come from a family of “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” and as far as I can tell, the original was working pretty good. Now I just wonder when my husband will come home with some Riced Cauliflower Medley because he didn’t read the label and just grabbed and went.
I’m trying to up my social media game for work. I thought I’d start out with a reel on my personal Instagram, and I attempted to make one through the app on my iPad. I slaved over it! Pictures, captions, music – it felt like an hour to put it together. I uploaded it, and saw it was only showing the first two photos over and over. UGH – I took it down quickly.
I headed over to ChatGPT and asked my buddy Chatty what I did wrong. Well, I didn’t preview it! If I had, I would have seen it. Evidently, it had something to do with selecting the music first. Chatty suggested I head over to Canva and create it there, selecting the pictures and adding the captions, and then selecting the music. Chatty is like having a teacher sitting next to me telling me what to do. Canva also has a pretty good AI function to instruct me when I can’t find what I need.
I put together a reel for my personal accounts about wandering in the backyard this morning. I don’t have the video feature here, but I can give you a link to my YouTube page because I put it on there! You can find it in “shorts”.
After I posted it to Instagram, I could see some areas I need to be aware of next time, like where the captions go – sometimes they are too high or too wide. Notes for next time!
When I uploaded it to YouTube the first time, there was no music but then I remembered the video in Canva didn’t have any, which is what was uploaded to YouTube. So, ever the perfectionist, I deleted that when I finally figured out how to add music!
Once I figured that out, I went through my videos for something to share on our company account. I had a few videos up but I uploaded one here. That’s when I figured out how to add music. This is also in the “shorts” category.
Every morning when I come downstairs to the kitchen and turn on the light, I look at the temperature on the thermostat.
In this week, in my house at 5:45 am, we have gone from temps of 59 and 61 to 71 and it is shocking!
My body became so used to teens and 20s all day long, wearing my long down coat, and always having a pair of fingerless gloves available, that the adjustment is hard to make. My hand reaches towards that down jacket….
I do love this warmer weather but as the trees and bushes start popping, I will wake up with a headache and it will take an hour or so until the old sinuses do their thing and the headache is gone.
This afternoon we should be back to a “normal” March temperature of somewhere in the 20s and a chance for snow.
Thoughts From The Passenger Seat 