Association Puzzle

Where Have You Gone, Mr. Coffee?

Like most writers, a staple of my diet is coffee. It’s not just the caffeine that motivates us, though. It’s the ritual of the preparation of the coffee – pouring in the water, scooping in the ground coffee – then the aroma as it brews and then the smell wafts through the house.

Coffee is a pondering drink. You pour it in the cup, then sit and look at the screen or papers you are working on while feeling the heat from the cup in the palm of your hand. If you are a serious coffee drinker, it’s about the ritual of your daily schedule just as much as enjoying the coffee. Your coffeemaker becomes very personal because it is a ritual object.

 

For over ten years, I’ve had a Mr. Coffee Elite coffeemaker that I depended on like the sun rising and setting.  Pour water, scoop coffee, press start button – coffee!  Mr. Coffee brand is also a sentimental favorite for me because I remember when Mr. Coffee coffeemakers were a new appliance.  Everyone in our neighborhood (which was full of coffee drinkers) was excited to see this new time and labor saving device.  And, if Joe DiMaggio said to buy this product it had to be worth it. At first it was a popular thing to switch to from the old percolators, but it eventually became as commonplace as toasters. Coffee was really expensive in the 1970s (one of our neighbors referred to it as “liquid gold”) so a fancy appliance to brew and serve it seemed fitting.

 

The original Mr. Coffee coffeemaker was much smaller than the ones today; I think it made only 8 cups instead of the standard 12 we take for granted.  I remember how my Dad thought he was so clever because he would fill it up with water and coffee before going to bed so that all he had to do in the morning was hit the start button!  He may have been the inspiration for today’s models that have timers built right in.

 

This morning, I had to say an unexpected and disappointing farewell to my Mr. Coffee Elite.  As usual, one of the first things I did this morning was to start a pot of coffee. Right after it finished brewing, I heard a loud “POP.” I thought a bulb blew out or that something fell off the wall.  Not finding anything out of place, I took care of a few other morning tasks.  When I came to the kitchen for my first cup, I noticed the “power on” light was now dark. I realized that the loud “POP” was the last gasp of my trusty Mr. Coffee Elite. He died in the line of duty.

 

It’s not good to drag these things out, and since today was trash pick up day on our street, I quickly and respectfully bagged up Mr. Coffee and put him on the curb. 

 

Now I am using a Gevalia coffeemaker. Sure, it’s attractive – Dad would be happy because it even has a built in clock – but it uses cone filters, not the round ones like (sniff) Mr. Coffee. Like most things, now that Mr. Coffee is gone, I miss him.

Embrace the Salami

About three weeks ago, my dog was diagnosed with diabetes and kidney disease. While the kidney disease was expected (he ate antifreeze as a puppy and had acute renal failure) the diabetes was a shock.

His health had not been good before the diagnosis so I took him in for a check up. While his tests results were not good, the vet advised waiting a few days to see how things went after altering his medication. Unfortunately, the crisis came before our return trip to the vet, and our dog almost died because his sugar shot up to 470.

The first week or so of having a diabetic dog was rough. He wouldn't eat dog food, or any of the dog biscuits he used to love. Sometimes he ate cheese, but most of the time all he would eat was hard salami. Being the main caregiver for our dog, it was driving me to distraction that I couldn't get him to eat anything I considered healthy.

I was getting increasingly upset, because in order to give him his insulin, he had to eat. If he wouldn't eat, I couldn't give him the insulin, and if he didn't get his insulin then his diabetes would be out of control.

After a while, though, I finally realized the obvious: if all my dog would eat was salami, then I should feed my dog salami. That way he would eat, at least, and he could get his insulin.

So, I embraced the salami. By accepting what was, instead of trying to make things the way I thought they should be, I was able to calm down, stop worrying, and I was able to find a solution.

There's a liquid meal for diabetic humans and I realized that if I couldn't get him to eat solid food, I could get him to have a liquid meal. Now, everyone, is much calmer and life is working it's way toward the "new normal."

Embrace the salami -- you might find the solution you are looking for through the practice of acceptance.

Happy Birthday Connie!

Today is my "big sister's" birthday - no foolin'!

It's tough as a kid having your birthday on April Fool's Day because kids love to tease, and when you have a big family like ours, you get a lot of teasing. Fortunately, we eventually realized it was wrong to say there were piles of presents in the dining room or the biggest birthday cake ever seen in the kitchen. We got to the point of treating it as a regular birthday, although it didn't stop the April Fool's Day pranks in other areas.

When I think about it, all of my siblings have birthdays on or near holidays, special days, or historic anniversaries. My brother Jim's birthday is the anniversary of Pearl Harbor; my brother Jeff's birthday is often an Election Day; my brother Joe was born the day after Valentine's Day; my sister Sue's birthday is on Easter most of the time, and my birthday is Flag Day. Biggest sister Christine's birthday is late August, and according to the Pagan Book of Days is the Nativity of Isis.

As you can see, we're accustomed to having birthdays on unusual days!

But, today's birthday is Connie's, and so I want to say "Happy Birthday" to my big sister. Like a parent, that is a job you never quit. Like last year when I went to visit my family because of a health emergency in St. Louis: Connie and I were sitting in the hospital family lounge, and someone asked if we were twins (we do look a lot alike). I immediately answered "Why yes, mam, we are!"

Connie hit me on the arm and said, "Don't tell people lies!"
Like the Marines, big sisters are always vigilant and ever faithful.

Happy birthday, big sister : )

Hawk Feathers

Musings . . .

The nice thing about starting a new day is that you have a chance to have a better day than the one you had before. No matter how bad my day is, when I go to bed at night I think, “Tomorrow will be better because it can’t be as bad as today!”

Looking at each morning as a new opportunity for a better day is usually a good thing, but it doesn’t always pan out that way.

Like this morning – after I got up, I came downstairs to give my dog all his morning meds. After fighting with him about that, and spilling the requisite medicine on my jammies, I went to the kitchen to get the dog’s food. While spooning it up, I heard a thunk.

Assuming that this was the husband dropping something upstairs, I didn’t think much of it, but I happened to look up and see out the back door a flurry of hawk feathers all over the deck. The hawk from which they came was sitting there looking very serious.

As I’ve written before, hawks hang out behind my house and sometimes roost on my fence so I thought it was a nice surprise. That is, until I walked to the door to look out and I saw the hawk sort of hop to the other side of the deck.

That’s when I saw the mourning dove.

The reason the hawk had thunked on the deck was because it had just snatched a mourning dove out of the air and then landed. When it hopped across the deck, it was trying to take off again to find a place to eat its breakfast. I unfortunately got a good look at the mourning dove before the hawk took off and it was one of the saddest expressions I’ve ever seen.

Although it made me sad to know this beautiful dove would soon be the hawk’s breakfast, I didn’t interfere. Nature is a cycle and we have to respect that. It also made me think about how different the morning looked to these two winged creatures.

To the mourning dove, what little of the day was left it was going to be terrible, echoing the terrible way it had started. No creature wants to be another’s breakfast, especially if you’re going to be torn to bits before noon.

But, if you look at it from the hawk’s point of view, it was having a great start to its day. It wasn’t even 9 a.m., and it already had its first meal of the day.

As the hawk took off with its sad meal, the wind blew the feathers all around the deck. Swirling, the feathers were reminiscent of gentle, fluffy snow. A squirrel ran on the deck and started eating the birdseed in the plate I leave out for the mourning doves; they are too big to eat out of the birdfeeder.

Tagged! 8 Things You May Not Know About Me

Recently, fellow blogger Lindy Dreyer “tagged me” with the social Meme going around the blogosphere. After a few questions and a bit of research on Wikipedia, I found out that a meme is a unit of shared cultural information (like when you say to someone, “hey, the guy went all Tony Soprano on him” and the other person knows exactly what you mean).

The blog meme being tagged around is a way to share 8 things that people may not know about you; of course, there are way more than 8 things about everyone, but since 8 is my favorite number, I think it’s a great place to start!

I’ll be tagging some individuals later and inviting them to share via comments on my blog. In the meantime, here’s my 8, and I hope you visit Lindy’s blog and learn more about her: http://associationmarketing.blogspot.com/

1) I have three brothers and three sisters (yes, really!). I am number 6 of 7, and was incredibly spoiled until the age of four when my younger sister was born. It’s tough losing your spot as the center of the universe, but she turned out great so it was worth it in the end ; )

2) I have two nephews, two nieces, one foster nephew, three great-nephews and one great niece. Hopefully, I will live up to the “great” in Great Aunt : {
My Great Aunt Margie did, but she could make it rain candy.

3) I get asked directions everywhere I go by all kinds of people. I’ve even given directions in Paris, France, after only being there for two days – and they were right!

4) In 1998 when I was visiting Rome with my husband, a man asked me to marry him because I had 100,000 lire in my pocket. Realizing the marriage would last as long as the lire, I declined and stayed with my current husband.

5) In 2003, I fulfilled a lifelong dream of visiting St. Petersburg, Russia. As a dedicated follower of Romanov and Russian history, I was thrilled to walk along the Neva River, visit the Hermitage art museum (one of the largest collections in the world) and to pay my respects to Peter the Great, Catherine the Great, and the now-sainted Romanovs at the Cathedral of Sts. Peter and Paul. It was a dream come true seeing all the things I had read about and pondered for so many years. I also got to hydrofoil across the Gulf of Finland on the way to Peterhof – who would have thought a chubby kid from South St. Louis would ever say that??

6) Although I will likely never be able to do peacock pose, I am a passionate yogi who finds many answers during my practice. I also think yoga is the number one health cure ever found by humans. Doing yoga cured me of my fear of bees and wasps and it cured a cough I had for three months.

7) I have never belonged to a political party and have no plans to ever join one. The first thing I did when I turned 18 years old was to register to vote. I registered as an independent and have maintained that status ever since.

8) I really wish there were more than two seasons of the television series, “Crime Story.”

Even if you don’t have a blog, consider starting your own “8 things meme” with your friends and family.

The World Without You

As I sit under a winter sky, winding down before a long holiday weekend, I consider how the winter holidays are a time of reflection. Not melancholia, but nostalgia, seeps into our consciousness as we remember holidays past, and wonder what our future will bring. Good memories and bad ones float through our mind, making us smile and wince. We tend to dwell on the bad times but rarely celebrate the good ones because we are too busy just enjoying them.

We all have those low times in our lives when we think things will never improve, and that no one would notice if were gone. We try to fool ourselves into thinking that we don’t make any sort of difference at all, but we secretly hope someone would miss us; this is why the Frank Capra classic film, “It’s A Wonderful Life,” strikes such a chord. A series of seemingly unimportant actions by the main character add up to a life well lived; a big difference is made through small contributions.

Consider the impact of one small kindness you have received, whether from a loved one or a stranger. Maybe you were having a really bad day, and someone held a door open for you. Maybe someone let you in front of them in the line because you only had one or two items to pay for at the store. Maybe someone paid your bus fare when you didn’t have change. Maybe your spouse did the dishes after dinner because you were tired. Perhaps a birthday card was waiting for you in your mail.

Remember that moment of kindness, how it made you feel good, and gave you hope that the rest of the day would be better. Maybe that magic rubbed off on you, and then you did something kind for someone else. When you were kind to someone else, remember how it was a reflex and you thought it was just the right thing to do.

All the small kindnesses one individual can share may not rock the world, but it makes a difference in the lives that are touched. Thus, it makes a difference in the world.

Like most of us when we do a kindness, we think that it isn’t a big deal. We take the view that it shouldn’t be celebrated or even noticed. We just do it because kindness is our initial impulse. It takes a lot of energy to be outraged or angry (or both), but it takes so little to be kind and it wraps us all in a soft glow.

Like Anne Frank, I still believe that most people are good. All over the world, as I type this, individuals are doing small kindnesses and helping strangers as well as loved ones. This is what makes the holiday season a special time – we actually take the time to think about the good that is still in the world, even during dark times. One kindness can change a life, and thus, change the world.

Take a few moments and ponder what the world would be like without you. I’m pretty sure it would be a much sadder place because what you share through your individual kindnesses would be gone.

Happy holidays, and may you have a wonderful new year!

An Autumn Tale

This morning went fairly close to the usual. Husband walks dog while I get breakfast ready; dog comes back from walk with husband and eats his breakfast; we have our cereal, yogurt, and tea while catching some morning news. Then, husband leaves for work, I clear breakfast dishes, and then use my Nordictrack while reading the paper. Dog gets greenie treat while I work out, then we get the rest of the day started.

This morning was a little different. While eating breakfast, I looked out the window and noticed that the bird feeder was almost empty, so I made a mental note to get more bird seed after my workout. After my 30 minutes working out, I filled my seed container and headed outside.

The first thing that struck me when I opened the back door was the chilly crispness of the morning air; this is the first day of "real" autumn weather since the solstice. The overcast sky added to the autumnal feel and I took a moment to breathe in the coming season.

When the birds heard me unlocking the back gate so I could get to the bird feeder, they scattered, as they normally do. Even though I am their benefactress, they are rightly skittish around any human. I walked up the small slope, slipping slightly in the damp ground.

I took the feeder off the pole to fill it, and when I looked down, I noticed a small house sparrow huddled down, as if trying to keep warm. I was slightly surprised, but this was not the first house sparrow to show its bravado by not running immediately.

"Hello, little bird," I said, but then I noticed that its eyes were slowly opening and closing, and it was trying to trill but couldn't. It was shaking a bit, and its breathing was labored; I thought it was sick so I placed some bird seed near it. But then I realized that the house sparrow was dying, all alone, at the foot of the bird feeder.

I finished my task and then squatted closer to the bird; I couldn't leave one of my winged friends to die alone. Looking closer at its face, I noticed some wear and tear around the beak -- not an injury, likely just age and living. I couldn't see any marks at all, no sign of broken wings or gashes from a failed cat attack. It was just its time to die, for its season to change, like summer becomes autumn.

Every time it tried to trill, a cricket chirped in the ivy, so it seemed the house sparrow was making the sound, the cricket speaking for it. Then, the sparrow's breathing became more labored and the cricket's chirping was no longer in sync. Slowly, the sparrow laid down on the ground, eyes half closed and breathing slowing.

At the end, the sparrow closed its eyes, took one long breath, elegantly unfolded and refolded its wings, and then it was gone. I picked it up and placed it in the ivy, covering it with autumn leaves. It rests without disturbance from crows or cats or other creatures that play with the dead, not realizing that they will join them eventually.

The other house sparrows are back, fighting for a spot on the feeder, eating what is on the ground when they can't get a spot, flitting between the pole and the trees, eating their fill, and enjoying their bird community. They fly, the chirp, they love to use my fountain as their watering hole. Life goes on.

After my encounter with the dying house sparrow this morning, all the energy and worry I've spent this week about deadlines seemed rather silly. I knew all week I would get things done on time and delivered, but I let the worry creep in and distract me.

There's only one deadline that matters, and we all meet it if we are ready or not. Hopefully, someone will take the time to sit with us until we are ready to make the crossing we all have to make alone.

The seasons change; life goes on.

For Over-Caffeinated Dune Fans!

This is just for fun, because we all need some during the day to keep our minds sharp -- and this is too good not to share!

Peter de Jager is known for his wit, insight, and great sense of humor; he shared this today on the ASAE & The Center Technology listserv with this take on a classic excerpt from "Dune," by Frank Herbert.  If you love Herbert's World, love coffee, or love both, after you read this, you'll smile like it's raining on Arrakis:

"It is by Caffeine alone I set my mind in motion,
It is by the beans of Java, that my thoughts acquire speed,
My hands acquire shaking; the shaking becomes a warning,
It is by Caffeine alone I set my mind in motion . . . "

And you thought the listservs just shared referrals and documents ; )

Thanks, Peter!

Learn more about Peter de Jager and his consulting business at http://www.technobility.com/

The Nerve!

One of my favorite movie lines is from "The Greatest Show on Earth."  One female character says to another, "I'm sure glad I don't have your nerve in a tooth!"  It's great because it's succinct, to the point, and you feel it.

I thought of this line today as I left the doctor's office.  I sprained my lower back in late January, and I've been nursing it ever since.  One day it feels better, the next day, not.  However, I didn't worry at all until last week when I realized the front of my left thigh was numb -- not completely numb, but uncomfortable.

The doctor explained that my leg numbness was not related to the back injury, because the numbness and pain was in the front of my leg.  If it was my back, the numbness would be in the back of the leg. 

I told him that I've been doing a lot of strenuous yoga lately, with some pain in both of my thighs.  He said that I probably caused the numbness and pain when I strained the nerve in my leg from overuse.

So folks, I finally did it: I got on my own nerve.

Who Am I Feeding?

As I've written previously on this blog, I like to bird watch.  One of the best ways to watch birds is to feed them, so I still have my trusty bird feeder behind my house, which is easily visible from my living room window. 

Being an Air Sign, I have a special affection for all winged creatures (I've even gotten over my fear of bees and wasps thanks to my yoga practice).  Although the birds that frequent the feeder are still skittish when I am around -- me being a human and all -- they know this is a place to come for food, water, and a place to stretch out in the sun. 

You can imagine my delight when early last fall, a rather clumsy hawk started hanging around.  Its first visits were rather benign, and it mostly sat on my fence staring at my house.  I thought it was pretty laid back for a hawk, and I wondered if there was some hidden symbolism to the visits.

The hawk came and went a few times, and then I didn't see it for awhile.  Then, a few weeks back, it showed up again.  Since my dog is only 11 pounds, I was keeping a close eye out to make sure the hawk didn't get ambitious in his meal choices.  When the hawk flew toward another tree, I followed it with my eyes and saw that there was a second hawk.  I looked around again and noticed a third one -- it seems a hawk family was camping out back!

At first, I thought this was pretty cool because it's not often you get to see birds of prey up close.  The youngest hawk (which I theorized was a "hawklet") was sitting very quietly under the bird feeder, and no other birds were around.  The squirrels were daring to approach the feeder, but we all know that squirrels are nuts.

The next day, I was looking out the window and saw that one of the adult hawks was eating.  It was sitting on a branch in a tree right behind my house.  It then dawned on me what the hawk was eating -- a bird!  One of the little birds that I feed, water, and for whom I create a welcoming place to rest!!  My little bird friends had suddenly become a la carte.

Despite the fact that I understand how nature works and I stay out of it (most of the time), I couldn't help feeling guilty about the little bird becoming hawk food.  The same spot that the birds had discovered was a small refuge in the larger world had now become a hunting ground for one of their archenemies.  The hawks probably wouldn't have stopped at all if there weren't so many little birds around -- and they are plump little birds thanks to me.  Had I inadvertently become "the birdseed of destruction?"

I started to wonder about the way things work out.  I had started out with my bird feeding as a way to enjoy nature and help nurture a small part of it, but now that very contribution had indirectly led to a family of predators moving in to the neighborhood.  I started to ask myself, "Who am I feeding?" 

That question got me thinking about all the times in life we do something that is good with the best of intentions, but it then turns into something hurtful to others.  None of us know what will happen in the future, but we can consider possible consequences and outcomes, and we should always try to do this in a different light so we don't take our actions for granted. 

So I propose a new question when actions need to be decided:
Am I feeding the little birds, or am I feeding the hawks?