Musings from the Laundromat: Simple pleasures & silver trolleys edition
It has been a perfect morning.
I walked into the laundromat today with happy in my heart and relaxed in my step. ‘Midnight Train to Georgia’ was playing on the laundromat’s radio. I greeted the lady who works behind the counter – noticing her bright pink top. “Hi” I said, “I like your top!” “Thank you” she smiled.
She walked away with a hint of a smile still on her lips as I grabbed my cash card with the yellow wrist coil. I always pick yellow if it’s available.
I loaded five dollars onto the card and toted my laundry over to my favorite machines.
And here I sit at my favorite spot about to share my morning with you.
I’m reading an amazing book ‘The Glass Castle’ by Jeannette Walls. My friend Betty gave it to me to borrow last week.
I love that I have friends who enjoy a good book. I love the fact that they think of me when they’re finished with that same book.
I woke at 7 this morning. I slept in. After making a pot of coffee and letting the dog outside, I crawled back into bed to read.
A little while later, after retrieving a cup of the freshly brewed coffee, feeding the dog and laying back down on my bed – Nic appeared in my room.
“Hey” I said, as I let my book holding arm flop down onto the bed.
He joined me and rested his head on my chest. I put my free arm around him, patting his back.
We lay there, quietly, as he blinked at the wall.
“What are you thinking about?”
“The words on the painting … looks like it says Edward Woot”
I shifted my gaze to the painting as he continued,, “I think it is Woot”.
We both knew it wasn’t. But we considered the painting until we were joined by the dog.
“Aw! Now the whole family is here!” I said.
We focused our quiet gazes on Butters. Then back to nothing. Just enjoying the moment.
Not a thing was lost on me. I held carefully and quietly in my heart the following thoughts, not wanting them to disappear.
I held the gratitude that my son still looks for me in the morning. That he likes me and wants to have a moment with me. I held the joy that we were both looking at a painting together – one he gave me for Christmas – that we both appreciate art. I savored the fact that I was holding a book – that I get such immense pleasure from reading. I was grateful for my ‘boy’ in my arms and my dog at our feet.
I digested everything about that moment – while managing to stay in it.
Our silence gave way to laughter when Butters started nibbling on her leg and I announced it was obviously bath day.
By the look of the sky, I needed to take care of that quickly. The clouds outside were grey and looked heavy with rain. I suggested to Nic that we could just pour her shampoo over her and put her out when the rain began.
I got up instead and carried my 70 pound, hairy, leg nibbling manatee into the tub.
What began as a bath for Butters gave way to cleaning – I threw myself into the task, taking the large rug from the kitchen outside so I could wash the floor. Of course, Nic took that opportunity to make himself something to eat. His timing is impeccable. I worked around him – so very grateful to have a kitchen to clean. And too grateful for the food and my son to be annoyed by his timing.
Satisfied with the clean dog, the clean house and my fed and occupied son I took my turn in the tub. So grateful for the soothing stream of water on my back.
I’ll be making a small pork roast today – and enjoying my son in between his games and the book in between time with my son.
And speaking of that book – the friend that loaned it to me finished a particularly difficult book this morning (due to the content.) She commented to me:
“By the way, I finished the horrible one I was reading this a.m. I had to see how it ended and be done with it. I learned a grocery cart in Great Britain is a trolley. I was trying to find some lil gems in it to get through it :)”
I love that she said that. That’s what we do isn’t it? Look for the gems when things are tough? Well it’s what we should do.
I replied to her:
“There’s always a silver trolley if you look hard enough.”
These dreams … (and dreams we have for others)
Last night I dreamed my mother was pregnant. The shock that she was carrying a child at her age gave way to wonder. I felt a sense of peace and safety and excitement.
I was in the hospital with her, for a check up or perhaps because the time was close to meet the little one?
I looked at her swollen belly and then into her eyes. She was smiling in a tired yet calm way, and had some bad news.
The baby wasn’t going to make it.
It wasn’t long after that ‘scene’ when we were in a gymnasium, and she was finalizing plans with a score keeper to try again. I didn’t even question why he would be the father. It just seemed like a business transaction.
I noticed my mom online this morning and told her: “I dreamed you were pregnant.” She responded “We weren’t going to tell anyone just yet.”
That made me smile.
I am fortunate to have a mother with a sense of humor.
I researched the symbology of seeing someone pregnant. It said: “To dream someone else is pregnant indicates that you are experiencing a closer connection to this person.”
So what did they say it meant to lose the baby?
“Suggests that some idea or plan did not go as expected. The dream may also serve as a warning against your continued course of action. You need to alter your path or risk losing something of significance and value to you.”
Hmmmm ….
I have my own theory.
I’m ashamed to admit, I’ve had some resentment lately.
Nicholas returned from England and the next step was to enroll in college and look for his first job.
I stand by my theory that no one can want anything FOR you. While you can suggest, encourage and support, you can’t want someone into doing something.
Of course I’ve discussed school with Nic. But in my opinion, unless it’s something he wants for himself, he won’t put in the work.
I planted seeds and offered ideas and hoped to see him decide to take that path on his own. For him to make the effort to look into how to make it happen.
And he has.
Yesterday he went to the college and in the evening, we pushed “Submit” on his student aid application.
My resentment comes from the fact that every conversation I’ve had with my mother lately includes her telling me what Nic has to do.
As if I’ve been dropping the ball on the whole ‘raising your child’ thing.
“He needs to go speak to a counselor at the college.” “He needs to apply for jobs.”
I think a part of me feels like she doesn’t trust my mothering.
I felt talked down to, like a little girl being given directions because she couldn’t figure it out on her own.
And the feeling returned that Nicholas is not mine, but hers.
I sat in that feeling and it wasn’t comfortable.
So I shifted my thoughts and my position.
Nicholas isn’t mine. He does not belong to anyone. “God doesn’t have grandchildren” came to mind.
I considered that I’m fortunate to have others love and care about my son. The directions come from a well intended place.
I have to take myself and my pride out of the equation – because it’s not about me.
I don’t know what it’s like to be a grandmother. I can only imagine. I imagine it’s indescribably amazing.
The love I have for my son is the most honest and pure and complete love I’ve known. So to one day, perhaps, hold his child? My eyes are watering just imagining it.
And I’ll want the best for his son or daughter. And if I’m fortunate enough to be there and to know my grandchild – I’m sure I’ll offer Nic advice.
But I trust the person that he is – even now. I know his values and his heart. I know that he will be an incredible father one day.
The day when fear asked me to look at it
Had unexpected discussions today with two people I respect, about fear.
Both conversations were independent of one another. So I have to consider that the universe put the topic in my path for a reason.
My truth and understanding is that every negative emotion I’ve had has stemmed from fear. Envy? Fear I’m not enough. Anger? Fear I am not in control. Hate? Fear I possess or am capable of possessing a characteristic of the person or thing I’m hating. (Although, I haven’t ‘hated’ for a very long time. Hate is such a strong word.)
I experienced something last week that I processed quickly enough so that I didn’t react – instead I responded. I was able to understand and diffuse a toxic situation.
I shared something personal with someone I trusted.
That person, in turn, shared it with someone else, accompanied by a derogatory comment … but accidentally sent it to me.
I addressed the issue immediately. I told this person, “I shared that with you in confidence – had I wanted that other person to know, I would have shared it with them.” Denial followed. But, when you have proof in black and white – it’s hard to deny.
I was then treated very cooly by that person.
It’s funny isn’t it? When we’ve harmed another, we tend to treat them as if they were the perpetrator of the wrong doing. Out of embarrassment? Guilt?
Okay, maybe not so funny – but it is a common reaction to getting caught hurting someone.
I sent this person another message – telling them that I understood the temptation to share the information, as obviously I felt the need to share it. And ‘Let’s start the day over.’
Of course, it took the rest of that day getting the cold/embarrassed shoulder and half of today – but the latter part of the day, their shame must have dissipated and they forgave themselves enough to warm the shoulder back up.
I forgive them.
I shared this story, because I’ve come to understand a lot about others through understanding myself.
As I said to one of the people I discussed ‘Fear’ with today – “I still have fear. But I no longer sit in it. I acknowledge it, examine where it’s coming from and address it.”
And I let it go.
I’ve had moments in the past when I’ve been absolutely crippled with fear. It’s just a most horrible feeling.
Fear of losing someone – fear of financial insecurity – fear of failure.
But I’ve come through those moments. Everything worked out. As long as I looked the situation in the eye – searched for the root of it and did the work to the best of my ability to fix what I could.
Sometimes a situation like losing someone, can’t be fixed. But my attitude about it can be. I have to believe that nothing happens by mistake.
My fear of financial insecurity? Probably a healthy fear, especially considering that I am not a material girl.
I feared not being able to provide shelter, food and necessities for my son and myself. Having almost been homeless – counting out change and selling items to pawn shops for gas money in order to job hunt tends to strike some fear into you.
But, we did not find ourselves homeless, or hungry. I had faith, kept moving forward and I did find a job.
When I realized that job was not going to afford me the ability to meet our needs, I took a second job.
As for the fear of failure – as long as I’m doing the next right thing – realizing where my shortcomings stem from and making the effort to change them – I cannot fail.
I combat fear with faith. And I feed my faith with gratitude.
And the more I am grateful – the more peaceful my heart becomes. The more peaceful my heart becomes, the better I become at loving others. The better I love others, the quicker I am to understand and forgive them.
And loving others helps me to understand and love myself. I don’t fear that.
Musings from the Laundromat: Catch Up edition
Everything I said that I would do while Nic was gone, I did not do.
I did manage to accomplish getting hooked on two shows.
Not only did I watch all the episodes of the Orange Is The New Black first season – but I decided to out do myself and see what all the fuss was about with regards to Breaking Bad.
54 episodes on Netflix. 3 episodes on ‘On Demand’. And the series recording is set for the new and final episodes.
Where WAS I for this show?? I think everything happens for a reason, so the reason I wasn’t watching Breaking Bad in ‘real time’ these past few years, was probably to spare me the agony of having to wait for the next episode every week!
I’m caught up now – and will be anxiously waiting for the last few with the rest of you.
I have interviews coming up that I’m excited about. One was going to be conducted today, but I asked for a delay. Not only is the topic one I have to research at length before ‘sitting down’ with my subject, but I knew I needed today free. (More on that in a paragraph or two. )
The other interview will be the long-awaited ‘Part II’ with Rainer. Just not sure which direction I want to go with it. I told him it’s time – but he gives me such freedom that it’s almost as hard to write as it is to pick something off an expansive menu to order!
So I took the cowards way out and put the decision in his hands. Then I’ll take it from there.
(At this point finding part I will take clicking on the ‘Interviews’ category on the right hand side of the blog, or using the search tool at the top right hand side.)
It’s been a long time since part I. But, Rainer and I have stayed in touch the whole time – so I promise there will be an amazing read coming up.
Now, the reason I wanted to have today free (other than doing laundry of course) …
My boy is back!
I was so excited yesterday! Couldn’t wait to get to the airport. I did the mandatory “Are we there yet?” “Are we there yet?” the entire trip to Vegas. Of course, I knew we weren’t there yet … but it’s fun to say.
I watched as person after person came through the little corridor – and then! My boy.
Yes, I cried.
The first thing Nic wanted was ‘American Cheese’. That bite of burger was almost as satisfying to watch happen as I’m sure it felt eating it.
Now, as exhausted as he was – after a ten and a half hour flight, and an hour and a half car ride back to ‘home’, we had a concert to go to. I gave him an out, but he assured me he could handle it.
After I quickly changed and swiped my lipstick on – he wanted to change his mind.
There is no cancelling after lipstick has been applied. (Especially if you’re me and don’t wear a lot of make-up.)
Write this down men.
There is nothing worse than ‘wishful make-uping’
So we went. But, knowing how tired he was, we didn’t stay for the whole thing.
I have taught my boy well – I KNOW how to ‘concert’ and he does too. Once the music started, he found the perfect spot at the stage for us to be.
My ear drums are well-trained, so there was no danger of having them blown out considering the fact that a speaker was right next to me – but I was in danger of having my hand stepped on by the singer.
Took some amazing video that I wish I could share with you. One day I’ll upgrade to have that capability. Then you’ll wish I hadn’t. 😉
So here I am, the laundry is done, and my bird is back in the nest and I’m drinking banana milk!
Nic not only knows how to ‘concert’ he knows how to ‘gift’ very thoughtfully.
These are just a few of the things he brought back to me from England.
Someone has been paying attention for the past 18 years. The Mr. Men book … and Alice – such huge parts of my childhood. The banana Nesquik – my favorite milkshake. He also gave me a Monet print of the Thames (I have a few Monet’s) and Beefeater chapstick. (I always have a chapstick next to my bed.)
Thought FULL!
Then came a letter … written in this card – and when I read it, I was undone.
I’ll keep the words to myself – except for this sentence, because when I read it I had to giggle.
I also felt awful – imagining him about to write an amazing, sweet, heartfelt letter and because he knows how I am, inserted this line:
“Before we go any further, I’m sorry for any poor grammar that might ensue.”
LOL!
Of course, the above funny picture is only partly accurate – I would have spelled ‘you’re’ right.
What he hasn’t figured out yet in 18 years, is that I completely abuse the rules for punctuation marks.
I’ll put that on my list of things to work on next time I’m left unattended for a length of time. And then I won’t get that done either.
A Monster in my bra
So I’m innocently enjoying a packet of fruit snacks at my desk, of the Monsters Inc. variety …
When suddenly a fruit snack got away from me and went here …
I stood up, did the ‘something-fell-into-my-cleavage’ shake. And this guy landed by my shoe:
My comment to my boss?
“Good thing it was Mike – he only has one eye. He didn’t see much.”
Debauchery Soup 