Feed the Monster!

Long time, no Blog. If you’ve been following my blog I guess I’ve been kind of absent in the past couple of weeks. It’s all about priorities!

Some fellow bloggers and entrepreneurs may be critical . . . consistency is important, and I agree! However, my blog is about being positive in life. In order to do that y’all need to feed the positivity monster. I can set goals, measure stats, create growth strategy, and make this work, or enjoy the ride along the way. I am personally tired of the push, push, push world of “whatever it is I’m trying to present.” It makes for great stress. In these couple of weeks of non-blogishness—-

I have edited a book I’ve been writing for the past year (LOL, no title yet!)

Together with my husband in an six hour time span we carried 6800 lbs of materials up approx. up 3100 steps! It took a few days to recover from that craziness! (I am freaking WOman!)

I have picked berries, had a few campfires & taken walks.

I’ve studied different CBD oil companies to try and decipher if I would like to become an affiliate and make some side income.

I have found myself in a very creative space of re-purposing furniture and I can sit back and look at what I’ve created with great pride.

I’ve visited two senior living facilities and shared my stories of days gone by.

Best of all, this weekend I had the privilege of visiting with family. I mean, really, when the choice comes to having a cup of coffee with your mom or writing because you’ve set some inner goal for yourself . . . I’ll choose the relationship with my Mom. Or, visit with my son here from the West Coast. Oh gee! Sorry Brandon, I can’t do that because I’ve set some goal for myself. (No way! What’s positive about THAT?)

OK, Positivity Girl! What point are you trying to make here? I enjoy writing about positive things, it has truly been a wonderful discipline. It has helped me to perceive the world in a positive way just by the attitude I am embracing and looking for.  I enjoy writing about personal history on the Brown Bag Letter blog too. My point is that too often in life we can get caught up in the “not having fun in life because we live in a social era of push, push, push.” In my former career, there were so many deadlines, meetings and statistical bullshit—all in the name of spirituality!!!!! (Go ahead, make sense of that one!) I refuse to do this to myself!

During this same time-span of not writing so much, one of my very best friends died and I am once again reminded to enjoy life at it’s fullest, each day, as it comes because there may not be another.

Let me ask you a question or two, OK, maybe more than that:

What feeds your positivity monster?

What activities in life are keeping you from enjoying today?

What areas of stress do you allow to overcome what you know is best for your own personal health?

Are you so worried about stuff that doesn’t really matter, that you neglect the things that do? OUCH!

OK, if you got this far in reading this, I hope you are challenged to look a little deeper and discover the positive, less-stressed monster within & are thinking about some ways to feed him or her. Make the time to do whatever it is that you have to do to enjoy each and every moment of this thing called life.

I sign off each blog with “Enjoying the Adventure”

Are you?

Dr. Dink

-___________

The Brown Bag Letter

 

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Chaos to Beauty

Sounds of mistakes, that only practice 

can forgive, were being heard. 

Rahul Gaur

adult black and white classic concert
Photo by SplitShire on Pexels.com

In his essay, Return of the Symphony, Rahul Gaur describes individual musicians in a orchestra practicing prior to a concert.  I was in a concert band and know what this sounds like, a flute practicing trills, the solo trumpet trying to perfect his part, the saxophone tuning and running scales, all simultaneously.  The sound is both chaotic and hopeful. And then the curtain rises, the conductor lifts his baton and everyone plays in concert with one another. The opposing sound is a shock of beauty.

adult art band blur
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In order to bring about the soothing, gorgeous power of an orchestra, each individual has to practice their part. In an orchestra there is no room for individuality, beyond the fact that each person has chosen their particular instrument. The precise movement of sound and tempo bringing each note to it’s melting point with unified glory is what “makes” an orchestra. This takes patience. This takes individual responsibility to work through the difficult phrases. It takes a symbiotic relationship, working though mistakes until those mistakes are forgiven and orchestrated perfection is reached.

If you have ever played in a concert band, or any group of musicians, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If not, please know the music you listen to does not “just happen”, it takes not only talent, but work and practice . Considering Rahal’s saying, “Sounds of mistakes that only practice can forgive were being heard.” Is such a relevant description, not until the kinks are worked out and practiced through, then and only then are the musicians of the orchestra ready for their performance.

I can’t help but think of this saying as a metaphor for life. Isn’t it true that no matter what it is that we are attempting, mistakes can and are often made. This is true for relationships of various types. It is very true for those of us who attempt to communicate, mistakes are made, adjustments (and editing) bring us to a place of forgiveness and the speech is given, the blog published, the letter sent.

The thing is, oftentimes in life, we make mistakes and neglect to realize the forgiveness. Therefore, chaos enters. Hands are thrown up in frustration and practice not thought about. Often, we forget that life is about mistakes, trying again, practicing, perfecting. Or adjusting so that we can all live together in the wonderful symphony of life.

I think I shall frame this saying to remind me everyday that my mistakes can eventually be a thing of beauty, if only I try.

Enjoying the Adventure,

Dr. Dink

Thank you Rahul! Return of the Symphony

_____________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

–a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Pencliff

Water and Words

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I just read a wonderful blog about the power of water, entitled, “Water Water Everywhere, Not a Drop to Drink“. The writer, Pradnya, is from the area we all know by many visual news stories from Christmas Tsunami in 2004. What an excellent read! In this story, she talks of the necessity of water, it’s power and, of course, the ability to cause destruction.

This blog inspired me to think about a phrase I’ve said many times over the years, “We have the power to heal as well as the power to destroy.” In context, this phrase was used in teaching about the use or misuse of words. Words are powerful, no one can argue that. They give us inspiration, direction, encouragement, and curses. One word used in a caring, thoughtful way can change someone’s life for the better in an instant.

However, misuse of words can leave scars that last a lifetime. Inner bruises that no one can see but the receiver. Pain that healing salve finds difficult, sometimes impossible to reach. I remember a childhood saying, “Sticks & stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me.” Did I teach my children this lie? Please forgive me if I did. Words can destroy.

There is a prevalence of nasty, negative words used everyday. I hardly watch the news anymore, as there are times the news isn’t news at all. It is nasty propaganda. Many shows are the same. Social media has become a boxing match of vocabulary for many. This choice to hurt leaders, teachers, community service workers and on and on and on HAS GOT TO STOP! What are we teaching our children about:

Pride

Grace

Kindness

Chances

Second Chances

Joy

Giving of Oneself

Respect for elders, leaders, teachers?

(You can add to this list in comments!)

Just as water is needed daily for the body’s health and wellness, for crops and the sustenance of all living things. I believe words are as powerful. I believe that this movement of nasty negativity began as a trickle, a leak and it has become a raging, deadly flood. I also believe that this can change.

Will you become the leak of positivity?

Will you begin the day of grace in your corner of the world?

What would happen if kindness goes ‘viral?’

I believe it can. It begins with me. It begins with you . . .

Enjoying the Adventure,

Dr. Dink

________________________________________

Water Water Everywhere, Not a Drop to Drink is found at: Peppered With Stories

Sunset Photo compliments of: Pam Martin

Please visit my other Blog: Brown Bag Letter –a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share

Pencliff

You Decide . . .

It’s summer, you know what THAT means, bugs of all kinds just messing with you and they really enjoy it.

I was standing at the stove, making a really good dinner and I hear my husband running down the steps holding his finger straight in the air. No, not THAT finger! The other one! Now, he is from England, so please hear this with a really cool whispery voice and the lovely accent as you read, it adds to the drama.  “Oh, bloody Hell, that bugger, fOck, a hornet stung my finger!” Hornet stings really hurt, they are the worst, maybe they are the Godzilla the of the insect world. He made a paste of baking powder to put on his finger, then was on his hornet-murderous way.

 

On the other hand —

There was a fruit fly in my Merlot.

You decide! Have a nice day!

I know, Damn fruit flies!

 

 

Enjoying the adventure, 

Dr. Dink

_________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter –a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share

Virtual Library

 

A Second Wind

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What a lovely surprise, when my husband and I stopped in town to drop off some recycling on our way home from work. We heard music that drew us across the railroad tracks to the park. Both of us were so tired we could hardly stand up, because today was day four of a roofing project on this house we are flipping. My mood was, “like a woman too hot, too tired, too sweaty and, well not exactly prettied up for a concert!”

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The band was in the park’s gazebo with a nice little crowd sitting on lawn chairs and quilts. There were also peculiar decorations in the park and around town called, Yarn Bombing, it’s quirky and very cute.

Looking around, I asked hubby, “Are we showing our age being here?” Sometimes when men are too tired they don’t think not to tell you the truth. “Yes, I believe we are!” It seems that most of the audience had WHITE HAIR!

The band was playing, oldies from the 1930’s era. While they played “All of Me” I walked and took a few photos as they were singing and couldn’t help but swing a bit while taking a photo of the bridge where we were married in this same park. It was a lovely surprising evening.img_20180617_195342840_hdr1870923304.jpg

Rather than go home, tired and yucky, this little concert in the park, in our little Victorian town gave me a second wind. The last song they played was, “Roll Out the Barrel” which brings back many memories for this girl who grew up in the shadow of Philadelphia and the Mummer’s Bands. I think it possibly brought out a third wind. Hubby and I even did a 30 second Polka. No, we didn’t dance the whole song, if you had been climbing 50 steps multiple times a day and carrying heavy stuff for four days up on the roof without your fiddle, would you dance a whole polka? That’s what I thought!

img_20180617_195938742906452387.jpgAll in all, this hometown Sunday evening concert was just what the doctor ordered! By the way, the name of the Band was, The Second Winds! I think I’ll get out my saxophone and go ahead and practice with them on Tuesday at the Senior Center.

Enjoying the Adventure, (and grateful for the Second Wind)

Dr. Dink

 

 

_______________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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HUSBAND!

I LOVE MY HUSBAND!

BUT . . . there are times when,

well,

you know.

We have been working hard this week taking a roof off a house that we are flipping. We are taking advantage of a 5 day forecast of “NO RAIN” (I’ll believe it when I see it) here in Pennsylvania, hahaha, that’s funny, it’s summer!

So, when you’re up on a roof, with a hammer, a ply-bar and your muscles (or lack thereof) it’s important to have a good hearty breakfast, don’t you agree?  Our staple breakfast is Old Fashioned Oatmeal with flax seed & whatever fruit might be available with yummy cinnamon or ginger spice, maybe a sprinkle of nutmeg. Yesterday morning, of all mornings, (Day #2 of roofing job) my husband decides to “surprise me” by putting ANISE spice in my oatmeal.  He says, “I only put a little”.

So, who’s complaining? ME!

Karen, if you have a man that makes you oatmeal in the morning, self says, NEVER COMPLAIN!!! NEVER!  But Anise in oatmeal? Anise is what gives flavor to licorice. In all fairness, I tried. I added a little more milk, and tried not to smell that $#!+ in my breakfast bowl. I tried to be a WOman about it, but I couldn’t bear it. THEN, I started burping, which LASTED ALL DAY LONG and I didn’t even eat one quarter of the bowl. (Burping, like a woMAN).

As if I didn’t bitch enough about that to him, here I am sharing my bitching with the whole wide world . . .

That I am so grateful

That he put something so

AWFUL

In my oatmeal!

Why grateful you ask?

It brought back to me (in all my discomfort and awful disgust and burping anise) one of  the most wonderful memories of my childhood.

When I was a little girl, every Christmas Eve, we would visit our cousins. I remember one year there was a really bad snow storm, but we went anyway. We loved visiting our family and would have such a great time with our cousins. A part of that great time was the amazing cooking of their Mom, Aunt Carol. She was the best cook this side of the Mississippi, maybe even on the other side too. OK, she was possibly the best cook in the world.

She must have spent so much time in that kitchen baking cookies. They were all so tasty and pretty, but there was one that I was convinced only she knew how to make because I had never seen them EVER, anywhere before. So, every year, I would “try” one because they were the prettiest things I’ve ever seen. Aunt Carole’s pizzelle cookies were the most tempting.  I mean, really —wouldn’t you just want to eat this lovely thing?

Photo from Ann’s Entitled Life

I think I’m right, you would. Of all the cookies, these were the prettiest.

And guess what?

Every year

I HATED PIZZELLES

Why you ask?

Because they have ANISE in them!!!!

That’s why.

Today, as I was sweating on that roof, worrying about the danger, burping anise, I ended up thinking a lot about my family.

I thought about Aunt Carol. She passed away just a few months ago after a long battle with cancer. I thought about the bonds of love that surpass time and separation with my cousins. I thought about, not my hate for anise, but my LOVE for the memory of this smiling, beautiful woman.

I find it amazing that something that I ended up bitching about to my husband turned in to a wonderful day of remembrance.  Never underestimate the wonderful power of memory, even at the cost of eating Anise! By the way, Aunt Carol also made the best homemade pizza! Back in the 60’s, who made pizza at home? Aunt Carol!

Enjoying the adventure,

Dr. Dink

 

I understand that most “normal” people like pizzelles, so please try them! You can find the recipe for the beautiful photo above, and other recipes at Ann’s Entitled Life Please visit her page for great recipes & home ideas!

_____________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Musical Memory

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I love musical memory, except for when it comes to the Purple Dinosaur with his tail swinging as he sings the, “I love you, you love me” song, or the “Noah” song that I learned in Vacation Bible School years ago, I want to scream and listen to head-banging music just to get it out of repeat mode in my brain. But for the most part, musical memory is wonderful.

The other day, I received a text asking for a verse that would be appropriate for comfort for someone who had a death in the family. It would be great if it had to do with the setting sun. Immediately I had a song in my mind that I knew came from the Psalms. “From the rising of the sun, to the going down of the same, the Name of the Lord shall be praised!” (Psalm 113:3) — and I’ve been silently hearing and enjoying it since.

Musical memory is an amazing thing, it can bring us back to places we have long forgotten, our first kiss, that fun trip with a girlfriend, good times, bad times, sad times and times of love, joy and wonder. I love listening to what are considered “oldies” now for that very reason. (Hold on, how can songs I grew up with be considered old? OK, I’ll call them classic rock, that sounds much better!).

I’ve sang songs with people in nursing homes, and watched those who have basically no memory left at all, sing along with songs or hymns with huge smiles on their faces. These have been beautiful moments of the power of music.

What songs “bring you back?” What songs give you pleasant memories, you know, the ones you know all the words to and can’t help but sing along? The songs that you really don’t mind if it bounces around in your head for an hour, or a day. Yes, that one!

Please don’t say the purple dinosaur song, because if you do I’ll start hearing it over and over and over. Which is now, Oh no! Why did I do this to myself?  PLEASE REPLACE WITH A NEW SONG! Let’s have some fun with this one . . . it doesn’t matter if it was last year, a decade or five decades ago . . . what song brings you back to a good place and time?

Enjoying the adventure,

Dr. Dink

My song for today, you ask? Mambo No. 5, of course!

__________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share