A busy, busy 3 days; quite active on the physical as well as the emotional level, one could safely say. It’s not my story, so I can’t really permit myself to write about it. Suffice it to say that Helen will be spending her weeks here now - finally. To ease the transition and keep her busy, I took her window shopping today, showed her how to use an automated carwash (how about that, FSI?), and she bought her first bottle, ever in her life, in a liquor commission –Bailey’s Irish Cream. Ha-ha!! She had some in coffee when we got back home, and I expect the rest will stay in the cupboard for a year or so.
What is most important is that we spent the day LAUGHING. That lady so needs to learn how to enjoy herself, to giggle for nothing, to make Happy Bubbles, to live for the moment. At one point she told me she wanted to wash the stairs that come up from the garage to the house. I didn’t tell her she shouldn’t, or couldn’t. Instead I showed her where the cleaning stuff and the water pails were, and let her go to it. Damn – I mean – the lady is 72 and should know what she is able or not able to do. If not, she’ll learn quickly enough. It’s a ‘live and let live’ policy in my house. It took her about an hour, the stairs look fantastic, and she was happy with the result. It’s not my idea of a good time, but whatever rings one’s bell.....
It has to be difficult when you get to the age where your children try to dictate what is good, or not, for you. My own kids have attempted it once, each in turn, but my glare told them to back off, which they did. I know they mean well, and expect most of our children do, but – hey – we’re not THERE yet!! I’ll pay my own consequences, thank you very much. Helen feels the same way, but had trouble expressing it. I spent a good hour giving her examples on how to say ‘NO’ without making a fuss. I think the lady has got it!
On a completely different note, we both noticed how my house is being invaded by ladybugs. I remember having the same thing happen a couple of years ago. I have nothing against ladybugs, mind you, but there are so many!! I don’t really appreciate them dropping on my head when I’m sitting in my office, or walking around my food in the kitchen, or trying to share my bed. Is anyone else seeing this, or is it just in my bush? I don’t want to take out RAID and destroy them, so am hoping that the colder weather predicted will send them off to hibernate, or whatever they do in the winter.
On a completely other note again, I want to thank all of you who helped with prayers for Alexia. The tests show that the meningitis is of the virus induced type, and not bacterial, which apparently is a good thing; her fever has been absent for the past 24 hours, and all seems normal for the moment. The little warrior has won this battle. Her grandmother, very aware of the power of prayer, asked me to forward her gratitude.
And that’s it for today. I think my hours of sleep since Friday morning number something like 10; certainly not enough, even for me. Helen is snoozing, as are my doggies after their long walk, and my Jacuzzi is waiting. I send y’all a big, warm SMILE!!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
ALONE AGAIN
An update on Alexia: Her fever had starting rising again and the antibiotics they have been giving her are causing much discomfort in her intestines, so poor wee girl is crying a lot. They have done tests to determine what type of bacteria/virus is causing this, and should have the results today, which will help for treatment. I forwarded your prayers to her grandmother, who is very grateful, and asks if we could continue until this little lady is out of danger.
Yesterday it felt weird, but not a bad weird, to find myself alone in my house again. Since my grandson signed the papers at the notary last Friday, he and his GF have been spending their days and nights at their own house, painting and preparing for the arrival of my first great granddaughter who is expected at the end of October. They were very fortunate – the house comes completely furnished (except for baby stuff), because the owner was moving out west and didn’t want the bother of shipping the contents. Helen is still spending her weekdays with her son, so will arrive on Friday night, and leaves again late Sunday afternoon, and that means the weekdays are back to me and the doggies.
Oh – and Dora, my grandson’s female cat, with her two new babies, which were born while I was away. They are still downstairs in the apartment, with one of her two humans dropping in daily to check up on and feed her. They’ll wait until the babies are a couple of weeks old before introducing the little family to their new home. I go down and offer cuddles and pieces of chicken as a special treat for Mama Kitty, but do no more than glance at the kittens to make sure they are still there and okay; we don’t need Dora getting worried and hiding them somewhere else, which cats tend to do with their young if there are too many visitors.
The result is that I can do my laundry and vacuuming during the night without the fear of waking anyone. I can also yell and dance to my heart’s desire when cheering on my HABS, who are playing pre-season games already, or throw balls to end of the hall for Grump and Smooch because no one will complain about the racket those two make as they skid across the floor in the chase. I’m enjoying this!
In fact, I’m considering not renting the apartment, at least for the winter. I had an electrician make an estimate to install a separate box and wiring; it is far too expensive to have done at the moment. When I compare the cost of hydro with it rented or empty, I was PAYING to have my grandson live down there with the rate I was charging. Without separate controls, the income needed would be far too high, unless I could find someone who is able and willing to pay such an amount to live out here in the bush, and who owns a 4 wheel drive or wouldn’t mind the long walk up the lane in the winter. In the meantime, with Helen using the top floor, it leaves room for family and friends when they need to stay over.
The sun has come up now, and I can hear my boys waking up. They’ll be looking to go out into the early morning sunshine, and I have another busy day ahead, translating my CV to French, and researching potential employment, so I’ll wish you all a good day, and am sending you each a huge SMILE to start it off - hope you enjoy receiving as much as I do giving!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Yesterday it felt weird, but not a bad weird, to find myself alone in my house again. Since my grandson signed the papers at the notary last Friday, he and his GF have been spending their days and nights at their own house, painting and preparing for the arrival of my first great granddaughter who is expected at the end of October. They were very fortunate – the house comes completely furnished (except for baby stuff), because the owner was moving out west and didn’t want the bother of shipping the contents. Helen is still spending her weekdays with her son, so will arrive on Friday night, and leaves again late Sunday afternoon, and that means the weekdays are back to me and the doggies.
Oh – and Dora, my grandson’s female cat, with her two new babies, which were born while I was away. They are still downstairs in the apartment, with one of her two humans dropping in daily to check up on and feed her. They’ll wait until the babies are a couple of weeks old before introducing the little family to their new home. I go down and offer cuddles and pieces of chicken as a special treat for Mama Kitty, but do no more than glance at the kittens to make sure they are still there and okay; we don’t need Dora getting worried and hiding them somewhere else, which cats tend to do with their young if there are too many visitors.
The result is that I can do my laundry and vacuuming during the night without the fear of waking anyone. I can also yell and dance to my heart’s desire when cheering on my HABS, who are playing pre-season games already, or throw balls to end of the hall for Grump and Smooch because no one will complain about the racket those two make as they skid across the floor in the chase. I’m enjoying this!
In fact, I’m considering not renting the apartment, at least for the winter. I had an electrician make an estimate to install a separate box and wiring; it is far too expensive to have done at the moment. When I compare the cost of hydro with it rented or empty, I was PAYING to have my grandson live down there with the rate I was charging. Without separate controls, the income needed would be far too high, unless I could find someone who is able and willing to pay such an amount to live out here in the bush, and who owns a 4 wheel drive or wouldn’t mind the long walk up the lane in the winter. In the meantime, with Helen using the top floor, it leaves room for family and friends when they need to stay over.
The sun has come up now, and I can hear my boys waking up. They’ll be looking to go out into the early morning sunshine, and I have another busy day ahead, translating my CV to French, and researching potential employment, so I’ll wish you all a good day, and am sending you each a huge SMILE to start it off - hope you enjoy receiving as much as I do giving!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
HOME AGAIN.
Home again!
The drive to Detroit was without incident and the time spent with Suzie is always good. Instead of visiting my favorite American department stores on this trip, we searched out flea markets. Suzie’s sister, who had come down with me, is an avid fan of such events.
It was interesting. At the Veterans’ regular Sunday sale, I found books, hardcover, old and new, best sellers and less known, each for 50 cents. Talk about happy!!
I tend to chat with strangers, and there was no exception made here, even if Suzie is a bit leery of the area. I was reading the back cover of one of my purchases as I strolled along and lifted my head just in time to avoid landing in the lap of a wheelchair bound, rather corpulent, bearded ex-soldier.
“Whoa!” he said, smiling, probably at my startled expression.
“So sorry!” I grinned, and put my hand on his arm as I did so; partly to apologize and partly to keep my balance.
“Ah – and now we can dance!” he grinned back. Purposely, I studied him and his chair for a second.
“And my dancing will be about as good as yours right now." I winked. The lady standing beside me looked mortified, but he threw his head back and laughed loudly. Later, as we were driving out of the parking area, he threw me a salute, and I gave him the ‘Peace’ sign; it was a special moment in an ordinary day.
We went to Mexican town and ate authentic and delicious food in the same restaurant I frequent whenever I’m in Detroit. There was an accident on the freeway so we were obliged to detour through streets I had not yet seen.
It was disturbing; beautiful old homes which have been reduced to slums, abandoned and heartbreaking in the obvious lack of care. Here and there would be an attempt to keep poverty at bay with a few flowers, a children’s play area, a clean yard; a brave spark among ruins created by the arrival of the drug trade and the municipal corruption so evident in the news lately. In spite of the scene, those little rays of hope reinforced my belief that there are people still working to make things right.
It was 6 AM and dark when we left to come back on Monday morning. We were only a short distance from her house, not yet on the freeway, when my truck began making strange...and bad...noises. I called Suzie to warn her we were turning back. After a visit to a garage that her husband uses on a regular basis, and the installation of new back brakes, it was noon before we were on our way again. It meant reaching Toronto at rush hour, so it was 10:30 PM before I was able to walk into my home and comfort my lonely, and hungry, doggies. There was no way I could get to bed before spending a good hour caring for and cuddling and assuring them that I was just going to my room and not out the door. I slept well and woke to find both of my pets on the floor by my bed instead of in their usual places on their couches.
Today was spent catching up on some work (although Helen left the house spic and span), and revising my CV, selecting some potential job sites, and walking with my boys along the driveway, admiring the glorious autumn colors of the trees. I reflected on how nice it is to come back home, and I SMILED.
Your share is already on its way to y’all!
PS: On my arrival, I received an email from a dear friend whose granddaughter, Alexia, born on August 10th this year, is in the hospital seriously ill with meningitis. We all know the power of prayer, and I would greatly appreciate that you could offer yours for this baby. Thank you!!!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
The drive to Detroit was without incident and the time spent with Suzie is always good. Instead of visiting my favorite American department stores on this trip, we searched out flea markets. Suzie’s sister, who had come down with me, is an avid fan of such events.
It was interesting. At the Veterans’ regular Sunday sale, I found books, hardcover, old and new, best sellers and less known, each for 50 cents. Talk about happy!!
I tend to chat with strangers, and there was no exception made here, even if Suzie is a bit leery of the area. I was reading the back cover of one of my purchases as I strolled along and lifted my head just in time to avoid landing in the lap of a wheelchair bound, rather corpulent, bearded ex-soldier.
“Whoa!” he said, smiling, probably at my startled expression.
“So sorry!” I grinned, and put my hand on his arm as I did so; partly to apologize and partly to keep my balance.
“Ah – and now we can dance!” he grinned back. Purposely, I studied him and his chair for a second.
“And my dancing will be about as good as yours right now." I winked. The lady standing beside me looked mortified, but he threw his head back and laughed loudly. Later, as we were driving out of the parking area, he threw me a salute, and I gave him the ‘Peace’ sign; it was a special moment in an ordinary day.
We went to Mexican town and ate authentic and delicious food in the same restaurant I frequent whenever I’m in Detroit. There was an accident on the freeway so we were obliged to detour through streets I had not yet seen.
It was disturbing; beautiful old homes which have been reduced to slums, abandoned and heartbreaking in the obvious lack of care. Here and there would be an attempt to keep poverty at bay with a few flowers, a children’s play area, a clean yard; a brave spark among ruins created by the arrival of the drug trade and the municipal corruption so evident in the news lately. In spite of the scene, those little rays of hope reinforced my belief that there are people still working to make things right.
It was 6 AM and dark when we left to come back on Monday morning. We were only a short distance from her house, not yet on the freeway, when my truck began making strange...and bad...noises. I called Suzie to warn her we were turning back. After a visit to a garage that her husband uses on a regular basis, and the installation of new back brakes, it was noon before we were on our way again. It meant reaching Toronto at rush hour, so it was 10:30 PM before I was able to walk into my home and comfort my lonely, and hungry, doggies. There was no way I could get to bed before spending a good hour caring for and cuddling and assuring them that I was just going to my room and not out the door. I slept well and woke to find both of my pets on the floor by my bed instead of in their usual places on their couches.
Today was spent catching up on some work (although Helen left the house spic and span), and revising my CV, selecting some potential job sites, and walking with my boys along the driveway, admiring the glorious autumn colors of the trees. I reflected on how nice it is to come back home, and I SMILED.
Your share is already on its way to y’all!
PS: On my arrival, I received an email from a dear friend whose granddaughter, Alexia, born on August 10th this year, is in the hospital seriously ill with meningitis. We all know the power of prayer, and I would greatly appreciate that you could offer yours for this baby. Thank you!!!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
THE STORM BEFORE THE CALM?
If ever I get a little bored and want some activity around here (other than the usual stuff, I mean) all I need to do is plan a trip somewhere; it never fails!
Tomorrow morning I am to leave for Detroit to visit Suzie for the weekend. This trip had been planned for months now, long before the menace of losing my last regular client (a done deal now), or my grandson finalizing the purchase of his first house and decision to move on Saturday, or a sudden call to meet with persons unknown for a new business proposal (NOT!), or an old friend showing up with intricate and pressing tax problems requesting my help, or my Japanese DIL being called for a medical procedure in the city and needing a lift home, or Helen’s visit to a lawyer in another part of the city where she needed a driver.....and I could go on with the surprises popping up during the week but those were the highlights. Except maybe for the HABS scheduling the first of their two exhibition games on Monday, both of which they lost.
I am looking forward to the long drive down to Detroit. It will give me a chance to relax.
I really don’t know what is going to happen on my return. As of next week, I have no choice but to apply my energies to finding work that pays, even if it does mean my becoming a commuter again. It’s whole new challenge, one that I did not really want, but...everything happens for a reason.
For the moment, I am looking forward to spending a couple of days with Suzie, talking things out, basking in the love and laughter of a good friend, recharging my Energizer batteries.
What will this winter bring? I don’t have the faintest idea, and that, in itself, is an adventure.
I’ll see you all when I get back next Monday. Until then, sending out a whack of SMILES to warm your weekend!!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Tomorrow morning I am to leave for Detroit to visit Suzie for the weekend. This trip had been planned for months now, long before the menace of losing my last regular client (a done deal now), or my grandson finalizing the purchase of his first house and decision to move on Saturday, or a sudden call to meet with persons unknown for a new business proposal (NOT!), or an old friend showing up with intricate and pressing tax problems requesting my help, or my Japanese DIL being called for a medical procedure in the city and needing a lift home, or Helen’s visit to a lawyer in another part of the city where she needed a driver.....and I could go on with the surprises popping up during the week but those were the highlights. Except maybe for the HABS scheduling the first of their two exhibition games on Monday, both of which they lost.
I am looking forward to the long drive down to Detroit. It will give me a chance to relax.
I really don’t know what is going to happen on my return. As of next week, I have no choice but to apply my energies to finding work that pays, even if it does mean my becoming a commuter again. It’s whole new challenge, one that I did not really want, but...everything happens for a reason.
For the moment, I am looking forward to spending a couple of days with Suzie, talking things out, basking in the love and laughter of a good friend, recharging my Energizer batteries.
What will this winter bring? I don’t have the faintest idea, and that, in itself, is an adventure.
I’ll see you all when I get back next Monday. Until then, sending out a whack of SMILES to warm your weekend!!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
SUNDAY AFTERNOONS
I met her in the liquor store this afternoon. I noticed her as she approached the line waiting at checkout, her from one side, me from the other. If I was to guess her age, I’d give her late 80’s, but a young at heart late 80’s. Her round face dimpled under a head of a gray, cut in a short, sporty style. She was wearing a nice, fashionable brown and beige pant suit, and one inch heels that tapped the floor as she walked. Earrings, necklace, and bracelets – everything matched. It reminded me of my mom.
When I signaled her to go ahead of me, she gave me one of those lovely, big, warm grins and said thank you.
“We’re in no hurry on a Sunday afternoon, are we?” she remarked.
“Certainly not!” I responded. I lifted my bottle of red. “If it takes too long, we can drink this while we’re waiting.”
She giggled and mimicked my action with her bottle of white. “Now there’s an idea!”
The people around us laughed too, the couple closest to us making the ‘Cheers’ sign with the beverages they were holding.
It was her turn at the cash. When she pulled the money from her purse, two or three folds of tissue fluttered to the floor. I could see she had some difficulty when bending to pick them up, but they had landed between her feet so I would have had to push her away to help at all. She managed, shoved them back into her purse, then accepted her change from the cashier, and some of it hit the floor too.
“Oh my!” she said, as she attempted to recover them. This time I could help her; she reached for one coin while I reached for the other.
“And we haven’t even drunk our wine yet!” I joked.
“Chocolat!” (pronounced shock-a-la in French) she exclaimed, her eyes wide with a pretense of horror. "Imagine what I’ll be like after I do! I think I’ll be kissing my bed early enough!”
By this time all the customers were paying attention, and shared our mirth, as did the young lady ringing up our purchases. My transaction was finished by the time she got herself together, and we exited at the same time. Her vehicle was parked beside mine.
“Have a nice day,” I told her as I opened my truck door. Once again that big, warm grin. She waved the bottle at me.
“I intend to!” she answered gaily.
You gotta love Sunday afternoons in our small town.
I SMILED all the way home.
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
When I signaled her to go ahead of me, she gave me one of those lovely, big, warm grins and said thank you.
“We’re in no hurry on a Sunday afternoon, are we?” she remarked.
“Certainly not!” I responded. I lifted my bottle of red. “If it takes too long, we can drink this while we’re waiting.”
She giggled and mimicked my action with her bottle of white. “Now there’s an idea!”
The people around us laughed too, the couple closest to us making the ‘Cheers’ sign with the beverages they were holding.
It was her turn at the cash. When she pulled the money from her purse, two or three folds of tissue fluttered to the floor. I could see she had some difficulty when bending to pick them up, but they had landed between her feet so I would have had to push her away to help at all. She managed, shoved them back into her purse, then accepted her change from the cashier, and some of it hit the floor too.
“Oh my!” she said, as she attempted to recover them. This time I could help her; she reached for one coin while I reached for the other.
“And we haven’t even drunk our wine yet!” I joked.
“Chocolat!” (pronounced shock-a-la in French) she exclaimed, her eyes wide with a pretense of horror. "Imagine what I’ll be like after I do! I think I’ll be kissing my bed early enough!”
By this time all the customers were paying attention, and shared our mirth, as did the young lady ringing up our purchases. My transaction was finished by the time she got herself together, and we exited at the same time. Her vehicle was parked beside mine.
“Have a nice day,” I told her as I opened my truck door. Once again that big, warm grin. She waved the bottle at me.
“I intend to!” she answered gaily.
You gotta love Sunday afternoons in our small town.
I SMILED all the way home.
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Friday, September 13, 2013
A PLOY?
With money tighter, you would think that I would pay more attention. It’s those combination-tables that do me in. You know the ones I mean? They catch your eye in a grocery or general shopping mart, which is my term for a Wal-Mart/Target/you-want-it-or-even-if-you-don’t-we-got-it store?
There they are, those combination-tables, tastefully decked out, often in the middle of an aisle where you have to make a detour to keep from hitting it and knocking whatever is piled there helter-skelter...
Oh! Am I the only person who has ever done that? And with no little tykes close enough to blame either?
So, these combination-tables are sporting the HUGE sign with a GREAT DEAL PRICE written in giant red or black or fluorescent orange paint, and Great Scott! Gouda Cheese for $2.50?? And name brand too? Hell, yes!
I grab 4 of this fantastic specially priced cheese and put them in my cart, not even noticing the cans of tuna and the boxes of crackers sharing the space, so intent was I on the thought of savoring a favorite dairy product without busting my budget.
I continue my speedy shopping (that’s how I do any shopping unless it’s in a bookstore) and when I arrive at checkout I load my purchases on the conveyor belt, nearly kissing the gouda as I place it lovingly, one round on top of the other . The cashier rings it all up and claims an amount at least $25.00 more than I had calculated mentally as she passed things over the scanner.
“What??? You must be mistaken. Let me see that slip, please.” She slowly goes down her screen, item by item, and the clients behind me shuffle impatiently. As she calls them out I hear her say “4 Gouda at $8.50 each...”
“No! No!’ I interrupt her. “There’s your mistake. The sign says on special at $2.50.”
The young cashier looks baffled, then picks up the speaker and her request for a price checker echoes through the store. Those in the line behind me are glowering by now, except for one smart-ass man who calls out, rather rudely, that it was the crackers selling at $2.50, and not the Gouda, and that one should read the smaller print on those signs; his ‘if one is reasonably intelligent’ was implied, if not actually stated.
Sorrowfully, I instruct her to remove 3 of the Gouda. She seems somewhat confused - a newbie, I guess – and her attempt to credit the charge requires help from a supervisor, and I hear the grumbles and mumbles as some customers move to another line and others heave sighs of exasperation. It was quite embarrassing.
So I should have learned, right?
Well, today I told Helen how I had seen lined rubber gum-boots at the Giant Tiger store on sale for $8.00, absolutely perfect for walking the doggies in our present weather, and we both agreed that was a super saving, and she wisely figured that we could both use them so let’s go get them now before they were sold out. We drove all the way to town, and sure enough, there were only 6 pair left, so we felt fortunate that there was one pair the right size, and neither of us took heed that they were sitting on a combination-table with some long sleeved sweaters and whatever else that was stocked there. We picked up a few other things and when we reached checkout, Helen insisted on paying the total which came up to...how much???
Once again the line behind me shuffled their feet as I told the cashier that the boots were advertised at $8, not the $29 she had punched in, and, once again, I was reluctantly forced to concede that if I had read the small print on the ONE sign which had a HUGE $8 on it, I would know that the sale price was for the sweaters, not the boots.
I left the boots there – I can get them for $15 at Yellow Shoes down the street. I can’t help but question how many times, when finances were easier, I have been fooled into paying a higher price because of a combination-table setup? Helen hadn’t realized how much more the total amount was. That leads to my wondering if the stores do it on purpose, aware that many people won’t read the tiny writing under the glaring sale price. If the customer doesn’t notice at checkout, good show! If he does notice, well, it’s a customer mistake.
On the drive home, Helen interrupted my venting. “The lady behind us had a pair of those boots too, and when she saw what happened with us, she didn’t buy them either.”
Ah! Not only consolation for my wounded pride, but I now feel like a Good Samaritan, and that brings back my SMILE.
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
There they are, those combination-tables, tastefully decked out, often in the middle of an aisle where you have to make a detour to keep from hitting it and knocking whatever is piled there helter-skelter...
Oh! Am I the only person who has ever done that? And with no little tykes close enough to blame either?
So, these combination-tables are sporting the HUGE sign with a GREAT DEAL PRICE written in giant red or black or fluorescent orange paint, and Great Scott! Gouda Cheese for $2.50?? And name brand too? Hell, yes!
I grab 4 of this fantastic specially priced cheese and put them in my cart, not even noticing the cans of tuna and the boxes of crackers sharing the space, so intent was I on the thought of savoring a favorite dairy product without busting my budget.
I continue my speedy shopping (that’s how I do any shopping unless it’s in a bookstore) and when I arrive at checkout I load my purchases on the conveyor belt, nearly kissing the gouda as I place it lovingly, one round on top of the other . The cashier rings it all up and claims an amount at least $25.00 more than I had calculated mentally as she passed things over the scanner.
“What??? You must be mistaken. Let me see that slip, please.” She slowly goes down her screen, item by item, and the clients behind me shuffle impatiently. As she calls them out I hear her say “4 Gouda at $8.50 each...”
“No! No!’ I interrupt her. “There’s your mistake. The sign says on special at $2.50.”
The young cashier looks baffled, then picks up the speaker and her request for a price checker echoes through the store. Those in the line behind me are glowering by now, except for one smart-ass man who calls out, rather rudely, that it was the crackers selling at $2.50, and not the Gouda, and that one should read the smaller print on those signs; his ‘if one is reasonably intelligent’ was implied, if not actually stated.
Sorrowfully, I instruct her to remove 3 of the Gouda. She seems somewhat confused - a newbie, I guess – and her attempt to credit the charge requires help from a supervisor, and I hear the grumbles and mumbles as some customers move to another line and others heave sighs of exasperation. It was quite embarrassing.
So I should have learned, right?
Well, today I told Helen how I had seen lined rubber gum-boots at the Giant Tiger store on sale for $8.00, absolutely perfect for walking the doggies in our present weather, and we both agreed that was a super saving, and she wisely figured that we could both use them so let’s go get them now before they were sold out. We drove all the way to town, and sure enough, there were only 6 pair left, so we felt fortunate that there was one pair the right size, and neither of us took heed that they were sitting on a combination-table with some long sleeved sweaters and whatever else that was stocked there. We picked up a few other things and when we reached checkout, Helen insisted on paying the total which came up to...how much???
Once again the line behind me shuffled their feet as I told the cashier that the boots were advertised at $8, not the $29 she had punched in, and, once again, I was reluctantly forced to concede that if I had read the small print on the ONE sign which had a HUGE $8 on it, I would know that the sale price was for the sweaters, not the boots.
I left the boots there – I can get them for $15 at Yellow Shoes down the street. I can’t help but question how many times, when finances were easier, I have been fooled into paying a higher price because of a combination-table setup? Helen hadn’t realized how much more the total amount was. That leads to my wondering if the stores do it on purpose, aware that many people won’t read the tiny writing under the glaring sale price. If the customer doesn’t notice at checkout, good show! If he does notice, well, it’s a customer mistake.
On the drive home, Helen interrupted my venting. “The lady behind us had a pair of those boots too, and when she saw what happened with us, she didn’t buy them either.”
Ah! Not only consolation for my wounded pride, but I now feel like a Good Samaritan, and that brings back my SMILE.
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
THAT BIG LITTLE SOMETHING
Have you noticed how it works? That on those ‘down’ days, when events causing distress or frustration seem to pile up, there is always at least one thing will happen to make you smile? Sometimes it’s small, sometimes bigger, but there is no doubt that it DOES take place – a bright ray reminding us that clouds do eventually disappear.
My foster mother made me aware of this when I was very young. It has never failed. It is more often than not totally unrelated to what one is experiencing at the moment, and usually unexpected. Still, on those occasions where I feel my mood deteriorating to an unhealthy level, I’ll make a point of looking for it, because I know it is there somewhere.
Yesterday was one of those times. Every call, each task I attempted to complete, even the energetic doggies – nothing was easy, and it was a continuous assault against my patience and nerves. Counting to 10 was not working anymore. I was in dire need of a respite.
Usually I will take a walk to lessen the pressure, but I was already wet from being out with the dogs earlier, and it was still raining. I started wandering around the house, stopping at each window, searching for something... anything...that would change my humor.
And the sun peeped from behind a cloud. Its appearance was short, but long enough to create a lovely rainbow. I could feel myself relax as I watched it arch across the sky. My quest had not been in vain.
But wait! I was rewarded a second time! As I turned to go back to my desk, I saw something that actually made me express my joy aloud. A butterfly!! I have been longing to see one this whole season. It was clutching the inside screen, and so pretty! I admired it for a bit, took a picture, then very gently removed the screen so that the little creature could take wing to freedom.
The implication was not lost. My bad day was not important in the whole scheme of things, but that little butterfly and the role it plays on our earth certainly is; there are priorities to be observed.
The truth is, importance aside, my Happy Bubble was back in place, and I was SMILING.
Luv from the Bush in Quebec
My foster mother made me aware of this when I was very young. It has never failed. It is more often than not totally unrelated to what one is experiencing at the moment, and usually unexpected. Still, on those occasions where I feel my mood deteriorating to an unhealthy level, I’ll make a point of looking for it, because I know it is there somewhere.
Yesterday was one of those times. Every call, each task I attempted to complete, even the energetic doggies – nothing was easy, and it was a continuous assault against my patience and nerves. Counting to 10 was not working anymore. I was in dire need of a respite.
Usually I will take a walk to lessen the pressure, but I was already wet from being out with the dogs earlier, and it was still raining. I started wandering around the house, stopping at each window, searching for something... anything...that would change my humor.
And the sun peeped from behind a cloud. Its appearance was short, but long enough to create a lovely rainbow. I could feel myself relax as I watched it arch across the sky. My quest had not been in vain.
But wait! I was rewarded a second time! As I turned to go back to my desk, I saw something that actually made me express my joy aloud. A butterfly!! I have been longing to see one this whole season. It was clutching the inside screen, and so pretty! I admired it for a bit, took a picture, then very gently removed the screen so that the little creature could take wing to freedom.
The implication was not lost. My bad day was not important in the whole scheme of things, but that little butterfly and the role it plays on our earth certainly is; there are priorities to be observed.
The truth is, importance aside, my Happy Bubble was back in place, and I was SMILING.
Luv from the Bush in Quebec
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