“I Love Your Top But Can I Borrow Your Eyes?”

I never had a sister who I shared clothes with. I have traded books and recipes with friends over the years and now I ask them to lend me their vision. My husband is color blind and so I must outsource this particular activity..I have gotten help organizing my clothes and tagging them so I know what color they are and have sent friends pictures of shower curtains, area rugs and lamp shades, asking them to tell me just what it is I am considering for purchase.

I have an app on my phone that’s supposed to identify color but it tends to tell me everything is “pale purplish gray”. I also have an electronic color identifier which works a lot better than the app but sometimes it too is off the mark. I have th e excuse of my poor vision but no woman wants to leave the house mismatched and clashed nor does she want her husband to do the same. Even though I can’t see colors, his appearance is still a reflection on me.

And so sometimes I ask my friends if I can “borrow your eyes”. They are always more than willing and I’m sure they’re always wondering just what it is I am going to pull out of my bag for color clarification.

We may be different sizes and have our own individual styles, but when it comes to vision, I want to look exactly like them.


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Tale As Old As Time: Men And Women

My husband decided that he, too, wanted to clean out his clothes as I have been doing and was going through his neckties. As he made a pile of those he was ready to part with, I rolled and packed them for donation.

I recognized a paisley print and remembered that Mickey Mouse was camouflaged within the pattern of the tie. We had gone to Disney World on our honeymoon twenty-five years ago this year and returned again for our ten-year anniversary in 2002. That is when he purchased this particular tie. Holding it and running my thumb across it, I couldn’t see Mickey’s face but I was transported back to those trips and in one lump sum in my head, all the other traveling we have done. In a rare moment of profound doom and gloom, I said:

“We’re going to die soon. All our best days are behind us.”

To which, the Mickey to my Minnie, the Prince Charming to my Cinderella, the Aladdin to my Jasmine, the Simba to my Nala, the Beauty to my Beast, because, after all, only a Beast would have this morose thought during spring cleaning, replied:

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Who needs a spoonful of sugar when the medicine to your crazy is served up in this most delightful way?


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If It Happens And You Did It, Take A Look

The thing about long-term, hard-fought, hurdle-after-hurdle, brick-wall-scab-on-your-forehead, hyphenated projects is that when things start happening, you may not be prepared. Instead, you may be surprised and a little overwhelmed. It’s scary to take a peek. What If after all your hard work it’s not right? It’s not what you envisioned?

You,may be in disbelief after so much struggle or you could simply be conditioned to the battle. You were so busy planning and pushing to execute, you didn’t have time to think about the fruits of your labor. Or maybe, even though you didn’t give up, it seemed out of reach.

And now, things are happening.

Don’t be afraid. You created it. You earned it, probably with blood, sweat, tears and your heart. You’re probably not the type to rest on your laurels. You know as good as this may be, you’re going to keep tweaking. But you must take a minute, take a breath, and enjoy what you have accomplished. Revel in it a bit, when no one is watching. Then use this successful completion to springboard to your next mission.

This is happening.

Look at what you did!


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The Blogger Wore No Clothes But Boy Can She Hang!

While doing some heavy-duty clothes cleaning out this week, I have made a shocking discovery. No, not my circa 1985 Air Supply concert t-shirt, but this: It’s not the machines nor the robots nor the zombies we should fear.

It’s the hangers.

And now that I have aggressively pared down my wardrobe and continued to segue out of my old life, I now have more empty hangers than clothes.


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Sister Rain Unplugged

One of the most challenging things for me to do is to plug things into an electric outlet. I do so much by touch but we are taught at an early age not to stick our fingers into sockets. So with the flashlight on my iPhone I struggle for minutes at a time and often have to ask someone else to do it. And truth be told, I do let my fingers do the fingering even though I shouldn’t. If perms come back in style I could increase the pressure of my search. But until then, I am careful and only lightly feel where the holes are in the hopes that I can align the plugs and make a connection.This is one of the most frustrating things I have to do with my limited sight. Sweating and swearing usually occur, interchangeable by both me and my iPhone’s autocorrect. Other than a flashlight and a light touch I don’t know any tips or tricks to make it easier.

I have had to change the way I do most things and there’s not much I can’t do. It takes me more steps and some ingenuity, but I keep plugging away. Because if I stopped, my power would be gone. And although I now live my life with little vision, through this journey, I have become more powerful than ever.


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Never Been So Happy To Be Average

I just recently heard of the “Average of Five” rule which theorizes we are the average of the five people we spend the most time with. After I learned of this concept, I purposely didn’t read the for and against arguments, as I wanted to think about it without influence. I, of course, know who my five people are and they are all different in personality amongst themselves and opposites in many ways from me. Because we are so close I know their skeletons and where they are hidden. My bones are right their too in many cases. We all have our flaws. But they are all kind, honest, compassionate, fun, loyal and generous people and if I can share these traits, how lucky am I? Of course they are all much more than just those few characteristics and I would gladly rub up against them in hopes of receiving their wonderful qualities. And I do. Sometimes in public.

Since I haven’t researched this idea, I don’t know if this has come up, but I propose that my own self be one of the five. I spend the most time with me and I’d like to think that what I put out into the world comes back to me, not in a karmic kind of way, but in the way that I strive to be better, to do better, to learn. This blog, for instance, is an extension of me and what I share here causes me to think and hopefully improve myself and grow. So, yes, I have a big impact on me. But I wouldn’t want to lose the opportunity to have five others instead of four in this premise. I need all the help I can get and these five people definitely have an effect on me.

I hope that you, too, surround yourself with people who inspire you to be not only your best, but their best too. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your five the closest. And let the law of averages do the rest.


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The Weekend: Trying To Fit Pounds Onto A Gram Scale

Today we did Piper’s monthly weight check as he had gained some “gm’s” at his last annual well-check visit to the vet. We use an electronic kitchen scale and he is usually pretty cooperative about standing on it for the amount of time it takes to get a reading.

We also took my blood pressure. I have been hypertensive since I  was in my early 20s but it is controlled by medication. I take my blood pressure every so often at home to make sure my numbers are still good. We use an electronic machine with an arm cuff.

Even though I don’t work outside the home, weekends are always busy for us, running errands and doing house chores. My husband and I both always have lists of what we need and want to get done and can only hope to have some time to relax too. Lucky for Piper, in our haste to get things done, he got the correct device and we didn’t try to pump him up in the cuff. But, of course, the scale is the real winner in this machine mash-up. Piper would have climbed right through the cuff, perhaps lingering for a light massage, but that poor kitchen scale would not have had a my-standing-on-it chance.




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Fowl Joke

So there’s this fella with a parrot. And this parrot swears like a sailor, I mean he’s a pistol. He can swear for five minutes straight without repeating himself. Trouble is, the guy who owns him is a quiet, conservative type, and this bird’s foul mouth is driving him crazy. One day, it gets to be too much, so the guy grabs the bird by the throat, shakes him really hard, and yells, “QUIT IT!” But this just makes the bird mad and he swears more than ever. Then the guy gets mad and says, “OK for you.” and locks the bird in a kitchen cabinet. This really aggravates the bird and he claws and scratches, and when the guy finally lets him out, the bird cuts loose with a stream of vulgarities that would make a veteran sailor blush.

At that point, the guy is so mad that he throws the bird into the freezer. For the first few seconds there is a terrible din. The bird kicks and claws and thrashes. Then it suddenly gets very quiet. At first the guy just waits, but then he starts to think that the bird may be hurt. After a couple of minutes of silence, he’s so worried that he opens up the freezer door.

The bird calmly climbs onto the man’s outstretched arm and says, “Awfully sorry about the trouble I gave you. I’ll do my best to improve my vocabulary from now on.”

The man is astounded. He can’t understand the transformation that has come over the parrot. Then the parrot says, “By the way, what did the chicken do?”

(Although Piper does not find the humor in this joke, he does humor his mommy and allowed her to take this picture.)



Disclaimer: All references to strangling, shaking, locking, freezing is in the name of a Friday morning laugh. I would do all of the above to anyone hurting Piper or any feathered or furry friend. 


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