A dozen years

Time to clean off my desk! 

I am retiring.  No, not from my lab job (I don’t work very hard anyway) nor from my writing pursuits, rather from my responsibilities as School Board Trustee.  Twelve years just seems like the right time to transition. It wasn’t a goal that I set in the beginning of my service.  I didn’t say, “Sure, I think I will do that for a dozen years.” It just happened.  I have been pondering that number twelve.  What kinds of things do we do by the dozen?

We buy eggs by the dozen.

Years are divided by a dozen months and days by two dozen hours.

We attend public school for a dozen years, give or take a couple.

A dozen long stemmed roses is a significant gesture – and pricey!

Donuts.

Christ had twelve apostles.

Gandalf had twelve dwarves and a hobbit that represented innocence. (Think about it.)

 

During my years of service I participated in the following twelves to name a few:

 

Approved twelve School-year calendars.

Rehired teaching, coaching, food service, custodians, bus drivers, para-professionals, Superintendent and various district staff twelve times.

 

Approved twelve school district budgets.

Received twelve IHSAA passes.

Participated in Parma High School graduation ceremonies and presented diplomas twelve times.

Cleaned up Homecoming TP from my yard twelve times.

Attended twelve Regular school board meetings each year.  (Okay, I missed a couple, but I made up for those with Special school board meetings.)

 

And yet, twelve years has no true significance in my decision to step down.  It is just time.  I recall asking a fellow former trustee when he knew it was time to leave.  He said, “You just know.  The district was in good hands and I felt it was my time to go.”  I echo his sentiment.  It is just time.

 

I bid my school board responsibilities, “Adieu.”  I may still give my opinion and I can tell you who to contact with a concern, but as I reassured a favorite coach when he kindly said, “What are we going to do without you?” It’s all right.  I can just be more partial now!

 

It’s been fun – time to be done!

Pumpkin Cookies. Really?

I had the opportunity to help out a friend the other day by making some cookies for an event she was hosting.  I listed several options and then threw in “Pumpkin Cookies” just to be cheeky.   She actually picked the pumpkin cookies!   Now, as cookies go, they are relatively healthy and I like the flavor, but my memory of pumpkin cookies as a child are a cakelike cookie with a burned bottom.  I figured I could keep from burning them, but I think that if a person wants to eat cake, she will eat cake.  A cookie should be crunchy or chewy or both!

I decided to tweak this recipe.  I think I like it!  

1 ½ C Shortening

4 ½ C Sugar

3 Eggs

2 C Canned Pumpkin

7 ½ C Flour (I used 6 ½ cups)

1 ½ tsp Salt

3 tsp Baking Soda

3 tsp Baking Powder

3 tsp Nutmeg

3 tsp Cinnamon

3 tsp Vanilla

1 ½ C Nuts

2 C Chocolate Chips or Raisins

These are the changes I made.

·         Cut the flour back to about 6 ½ Cups.  More flour can be added if you feel the cookies are too gooey.

• I only added chocolate chips, because I don’t like nuts messing up my cookies and others in the household are not fans of raisins.

·         Bake at 350◦ for 10 minutes. 

·         Bake a “test cookie” to be sure you have the consistency you like.

The prejudices we bring from childhood are unique to each of us.  My husband is not a fan of fried eggs.  He ate too many as a child.   My oldest son will not touch a shrimp because he came down with the stomach flu once after eating them.  I don’t eat oysters.  Here is why. 

Might it be wise to revisit some of those things we avoid?  Our likes and dislikes have been formed by our experiences.  Could it be that tweaking those experiences, something as simple as cutting back on the flour, might change our entire perspective?  I wonder …

Great Ideas Neglected

I hate it when I have a great idea for an essay or a blog post, but I can’t sit down and work on it at the moment.  Too often, the great idea escapes me when the opportunity to document it finally arrives.  Oh, I know the best answer is to jot the idea down quickly and refer to it later, but it usually seems so awesome that I am certain I will remember it. Alas, I do not! 

For instance, I had a Part II to yesterday’s post.  I think it had something to do with “How much is not enough,” but I can’t remember for sure!

Here is what really bothers me.  If I regularly write in my mind and delay putting pen to paper or finger to keyboard, can I really call myself a writer?   I know I am a runner because I do it often enough (and other people see me pounding the pavement) but what defines “writer?”  I have an author’s Facebook page.  Is that what it takes to be legit?  I published a book in 2008.

 

 

 

That was over four years ago.  Two blogs and a couple of online gigs can be added to my portfolio, as well as, a column for Blue Circle Sports.  For some reason, we writers think that dollars validate our talents.  Maybe they do and maybe they don’t.  This much I know – those of us who write HAVE to write and those who don’t write have trouble understanding why we feel compelled to write.  Maybe it’s an addiction.  Better yet, maybe it’s therapy.  You see, this 300 word post just helped me clarify why I write and where I need to focus my efforts.  I took the time to document it.  Maybe tomorrow I will remember why I write!

If you win, I lose. Really?

There is an idea being widespread that, in my opinion, is both false and disturbing.  Many in today’s world, especially in the USA, are under the impression that if one person is wealthy it will automatically make another person poor.  That is like saying, “If she loses weight, it will make me fat,” or, “If your house is clean, then my house must be dirty.”  It simply does not make sense.

In my world, those who have more money not only spend more money, thus contributing to economic health, they also give more to charity, thus helping those in need. 

Surely there are those enslaved in poverty from which they have very little hope of release.  They often had no hand in creating their circumstances. However, to blame their poverty on the wealthy is an incorrect assumption.  This is not intended to be a political post, rather an observation of a thinking trend that is handicapping all of us.  If we adopt this attitude, we deny our own accountability. Think about it.

“I am unhealthy because there are too many fitness fanatics around. It has nothing to do with my choices to hang out on the sofa and eat junk food.”

“I didn’t finish high school because there were too many smart kids in my class.  It had nothing to do with my failure to show up for class.”

 “If he has four cars, then there will not be enough cars for me to have one, because he bought all the cars.”

Have you got the picture yet?  Here is one more just to help you see …

“If he is happy, then I have to be sad.”

It just does not make any sense.  However, it is a very effective tool for those that would have us remain in a state of unhappiness and discontent.  Denying one’s accountability only fosters an attitude of disappointment and inevitable failure, because there will always be those who succeed and according to popular thought, if somebody succeeds others must fail.  Don't get caught in this thinking trap.

That is my opinion.  What is yours?

Hoarder or Procrastinator?

Just like it was yesterday ...

Okay, I’ve admitted that I am a bit of a hoarder.  See this post. I am beginning to wonder if I am truly a hoarder or if I just can’t measure the passing of time.  Hmm?
For instance, my husband and I were visiting a friend recently who confessed that she used to paint her walls every two years.
“Wow!  I probably haven’t painted mine in like … six!”
Hubby cleared his throat and informed me that it had been much longer than that!  I had no idea!
The same thing happened when I went in for what should have been an annual cancer screening.  (It’s the one us girls would prefer to have a car ran over our rib cage than endure.) 
“Um, it’s been a couple years …” I confessed.
“More like eight,” the not-so-cheerful receptionist muttered.  Who knew?
Today I replaced the well-used quilt covering my bed with a crisp new coverlet. It’s like I have a new room!  Now I probably won’t have to paint the walls for some time yet.  After all, it’s only been … oh … ten, maybe twelve years …

Offer up an Orchid

 

 

Offer up an Orchid

Often on occasion of adoring observation

Ordinary beaus offer up only old confections.

Bonbons ought to open both orb and oral organs

For ogling or consuming is their only operation.

 

Oblige me oft, Dear Suitor, ope’ my soul with origination

Offer up no ordinary or conventional donation.

Endow me not the obvious, but obtain one oddity.

For an orchid is the symbol of my lover’s loyalty.

Sandwich Wisdom

It's a sandwich!
 

As I was assembling a homemade Reuben sandwich today, it occurred to me that the sandwich is greater than the sum of its parts.

Consider:  Corned beef or pastrami is not that good.  I got a little sentimental this year and fixed corned beef and coleslaw for St. Patty’s Day.  (I couldn’t bring myself to ingest boiled cabbage!) My husband turned up his nose when I told him what we were eating.  It was okay, but I probably won’t do it again next year.

Rye bread is only good for sandwiches and Swiss cheese is best when melted.  Sliced off the brick and eaten cold it tends to bite ones tongue.

Sauerkraut.  (I actually really like the stuff.)

I would never put Thousand Island dressing on a salad.  Thousand Island dressing implies, “I didn’t have anything better so I just dumped this stuff together.  Here ya go!” (I know this from my experience working at the Silver Grill Café in Lava Hot Springs many moons ago.  Mayo, catsup, mustard, and pickle relish. Stir.)

None of the ingredients that combine to make a Reuben are great on their own, but together they make a deli delite!

I wonder … did the Lord give us each other that we might be better together than standing alone?  Families, friends, teammates, even co-workers are often so much more powerful together than apart. 

Could WE be greater than the sum of our parts?