Let the Vacation Begin!

We had the great pleasure of having our grown daughter along with us for this vacation. She is a full-time nanny, does part-time cleaning, tutoring, and dog-sitting, is active in her church's children and youth ministries, and yet she arranged her busy schedule to take 10 days away with us.

She'll be moving to Florida in August for at least six months. I'm soaking up all the time I can get.

This year we decided what was important was seeing family and seeing a few places we'd not been. We each had our priorities:

• for Paul, the NAAM festival for musicians in Nashville, seeing his brother, and touring the Buffalo Trace Distillery.  
• For me,  sister time in her log cabin dream home,  seeing the Smoky Mountains, and getting some boating time on a lake. 
• For Sarah, getting some sleep, seeing family,  and meeting Dave Ramsey, the finance guru who has had a tremendous influence on her, so much so that she can move to Florida with no debts and enough money in the bank that she could live for six months without a job.   
• For Joel, he only wanted water time--a pool and a lake. (We aren't ocean swimmers, especially after all the recent shark attacks on the East Coast.) And free Wi-Fi. Being disconnected is not his idea of fun.

A mere four hours into the trip, she started getting one thing accomplished 
from her wish list.   

The sight of sleeping children in the backseat never gets old.  Particularly not 
when it has been preceded by childish bickering over what constitutes 
"good music."

  

   To be continued...

Root Canal and Alien Teenagers (Wednesday's Words)

River posted two lists of six words  each to choose from for Wednesday.  I chose the first list and decided to try my hand again at creative writing with the prompt.  The words are:  satellite, bananas, unannounced, cherry, backtracked,  included.

--------------------------

Once upon a time, a baby cherry fell from the treetop, cradle and all, when the bough broke. Of course she was surrounded by other baby cherries who had fallen with her.  

Her Mommy and Daddy cherry had been eaten by two alien teenage boys the week before when they arrived by satellite unannounced. The boys had been given a list of must-eats and must-not eats upon arrival, much like Adam and Eve were told in the Garden to which they came as aliens.  (Methinks Adam and Eve were created as teenagers, but such fact is omitted from the Bible and unverifiable.)  

Anyway, to backtrack to the baby cherries and the teenage aliens...

The teenagers had been told by their alien parents to eat bananas upon arrival on earth, but as teenagers, whether alien or earthly, they didn't wait for the details, nor did they care. Food is food, and devouring it in mass quantities is all they care about. The teens didn't realize that cherries aren't soft throughout; they have pits included. 

Crunch! Crack! Yowsa! 

The boys broke all their mushy alien teeth in the feast. 

Serves them right. 

They swallowed not only pits but also their pride, and dug a canal into the roots of the cherry tree to backtrack home to their parents.  
  
And that is how we got the term "root canal."   



                                                                    

"On my Way"

Perhaps no other phrase is less definable than this: "on my way."

What exactly does a person mean when he or she says, "I'm on my way, "  or "he's on his way"?

What do YOU mean when you say it?

1. Gotta finish this sandwich and TV show, then I'll get in the car.
2. Done eating,  thinking about leaving, but I'm brushing my teeth.
3. I'm in the car, but I have five stops before I get there in two hours.
4. I'm sitting in the driveway, engine on, texting you. I'm coming straight there from here, so it'll take x number of minutes, barring traffic.
5. One more left turn, and I'm there.

When it comes to communication, I'm a junkie, and I'm a stickler for quick, accurate responses. Mean what you say, and say what you mean. (Growing up, we preambled everything and we were a house full of girls raised by midwestern parents who didn't always say things "straight out." A strong vocabulary and good grammar don't always equal good communication. But I digress.)

So, Tuesday, we settled on a house. On Monday,  there was trouble with the air conditioning. Although brand new, installed by the bank who owned it, it was on a cool setting blowing HOT air.
Our realtor, Cindy,  made calls and arranged for the bank's contractor to come fix it. When my husband went there  Monday after work to check to see if the repairman had been there,  clearly the answer was "no"; it was at least 120 degrees inside. (The thermostat only goes up to 99, which is where it was.)  Hubby opened all the windows, waited 45 minutes, and then had to leave.  The temperature inside was then 93 degrees--and had to close the windows because storms were brewing.)

Next day, we're set for closing, but at the walk-through at 12:15, still hot air was blowing. (Which really is a great metaphor for all we've received in the way of promises from the seller, but that's a story for another day.)  Cindy said we would put in a clause for a $500 withholding until it was fixed, and written assurance that it would be fixed that very day.

At the settlement table, Cindy hears from the listing agent. I'll call him Bob.  "The technician is on his way," says Bob.   Cindy writes on a Post-it note the contractor's name ("Randy Nicely") and number so I could call directly if I needed to."

Bob said Randy is on his way. Cindy says he should be there when we get there, if not before.

That sounds like assurance to me. "On his way" --to my mind--means he is driving to the property as the message is being delivered.  We have a few more papers to sign, a few hands to shake, a few people to thank, and then we're out of the lawyer's office and on OUR way. It's 2:30.

But again, that's only in my mind.  I am realizing my mind and others' don't work alike.

So we get to the house. Temperature: 98 inside. We have a fan. We use it, windows wide open. We're sweating, sweeping floors, sweating, repairing a hole in the basement ceiling, sweating, and texting,"he's not here yet, it's 2:48."  Sweating and scrubbing kitchen cabinets.

I call Randy Nicely.  "Hi, is this Randy Nicely?'
"Yeah, this is him."
"Hi, Randy, this is Zoanna...new owner at XYZ Court. We were told someone would be here to fix the AC when we arrived, or before, and no one's here, so could you please tell me when you will be here?"

He immediately was not Mr. Nicely.   He took a tone with me. You don't want to do that when you're really late, you've broken promises, I'm hot as a rotisserie chicken on an open spit, and you're giving me excuses.

"Ma'am, he'll be there."

"Who's he?  I thought you were the one coming."

"No, it's another guy. He's on another job. He'll get there when he--" (He stopped short of saying "he'll get there when he gets there.")  My pulse races.

"Well, he--or someone from your company was supposed to be here yesterday. We're burning up."

Then he said, "What do you want me to do about it? I can't get blood from a turnip!"


Uh-oh, buddy, you crossed the line.  I'm on my way.  On my way to spewing and losing my Christianity,  but instead I just clench my jaw and say, "Well, all I know is what I was told by the listing agent two hours ago ,that it would be fixed, so that's what's we're waiting for. Goodbye!"

Turns out, the listing agent's assistant needs a lesson in communication. The assistant, I'll call Skip (because he skipped several words that would help clarify his meaning and avoid conflict all around), had told Bob "he's on his way." But the REAL message, which Randy NotVeryNicely had given Skip was, "He's on another job and then he'll be on his way there."

Well, hello!!! There's a big difference between "on my way" and "after doing another job, he'll be on his way."  GRRRRRRR.

Anyway, the guy and his son (a teenager who looks just like him) came out in 40 minutes and had the wires fixed  in 15. Both house and owners began cooling down at that point.

So, remember, class, the next time you hear or say the phrase "on my way," make sure you understand what is meant by those three simple words.

Dyeing to be Grey is Dumb in the Hodgepodge

I missed the Hodgepodge last week because I was on a lovely vacation in the Smoky Mountains. We headed west to the south of Ohio and northern Kentucky and eastern Tennessee. That pretty much en-"compasses" our travel stops. I'll be blogging about that soon, or when life settles down a bit, whichever comes first.

1.July 15th is National Give Something Away Day.  What can you give away? Will you?

I can give away some items headed for the charity thrift store nearby, but will I? No, not on July 15th I won't. My day is too crowded.  We bought a house today, July 14th, as our first rental property (and maybe our last, depending on how it goes!) so my to-do list does NOT including itemizing give-aways.  I'll be giving away my time by waiting for the plumber and washer/dryer delivery truck. Does giving away time count? 

2. Do you have a mantra? Please share with the class if you feel comfortable doing so.

"Better do it now while I'm thinking about it."    

3. Who does the grocery shopping in your house? How many times a week do you shop? Do you make a list or pray for inspiration in the produce aisle?

My husband and I share the duty. He doesn't mind; I abhor, loathe, hate, despise, deplore the job.  I really do. All the planning, finding, comparing, loading onto the belt, paying, loading into the cart, pushing to the car, loading the car, driving home, unloading the car, loading the shelves and drawers, dealing with those ubiquitous plastic bags.  I've said if I ever become independently wealthy, I will hire someone to do all my grocery shopping, from meal planning to stocking my kitchen. Heck, if I were independently wealthy, I'd hire a chef to go ahead and whoop up a delicious home-cooked meal every night that I wanted.   Wait, you didn't really ask for all reasons why I hate grocery shopping, did you?  I make a list because I see it as a mission: get in, get out.  I also pray for inspiration because I'm burnt out from 30 years of doing this.

4. Is there a TV show you're embarrassed to say you watch? You're going to tell us what it is, right?

Modern Family.  I think it's hysterical, the best writing out there in sitcom land, the best acting, and such chemistry between the cast members. 

5. A recent article listed fifteen words we should eliminate from our (written) vocabulary in order to sound smarter-

that, went, honestly, absolutely, very, really, amazing, always, never, literally, just, maybe, stuff, things, and irregardless

 Of the fifteen, which word is your most overused?  It just might be just!

6. So apparently dyeing your hair gray (in your youth!) is a thing right now. It's called 'The Granny Hair' trend. Your thoughts? 

I think it's dumb. Come on, young'uns, save the grey for when you've earned it like the rest of us! For us it is a crown of wisdom; for you, it is a waste of money. Enjoy your beautiful blonde, brunette, red, black, whatever-color-of-the-month suits you, but please save that last remnant of grey for when you've matured into it.  

And (just) for the record, my hairdresser told me last month that she loves how I have a natural "ombre' in back. It's brunette on top fading to grey at the bottom . She says people pay good money for that and I get it for free. (Not that I want it, but I will be 50 next month, and my word of the year is "embrace," so I'll be embracing my free natural ombre along with my new natural age.

7. A while back Buzz Feed asked members to share the most beautiful sentence they've read in a piece of literature. A hard thing to narrow down, at least for me, but let's try. What's one of the most beautiful sentences you've ever read in a piece of literature?

Whew! That's tough.  How about two? One is from the Bible (Lamentations) "His mercies are new every morning."   ( I need new mercies every morning, and look forward to them! Such hope and if I've screwed up this 24 hours, or it has screwed ME up, there's always tomorrow to start afresh. )

  And the other line I like is from Shakespeare's Sonnet 116:

 "Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds..."

(I believe that love is only true when it doesn't go looking for a new and better model when the feelings wither and wane. Love is not a feeling, it's a commitment. Great when the heart flutters with the feelings, but if it doesn't, love remains faithful, steadfast, sacrificing.)
8. Insert your own random thought here.

We finally closed on our new house today. I should clarify we are not moving; this is a rental property and our first experience. What an uphill climb it's been to this point, but God has given us new mercies every morning to deal with lawyers (the sellers' lawyers, not ours) who got their degrees from the bottom of a cereal box. Just sayin.'  Today was settlement, followed by cleaning, changing locks, doing small repairs, and making a grand master list of stuff we need from Home Depot.  I'd rather go to Home Depot ANY day than step foot in the grocery store.  Maybe they should start selling food....