All posts by Rhonda

I'm a 55 year old lover of life, family, friends, and creative writing (amongst numerous other activities, people, animals, big ideas, and things). I am a native Minnesotan transplanted to the Denver metro area from Wisconsin due to a job transfer for my fabulous husband. I am and always have been in my heart of hearts, a writer. I was a case manager/social worker for many years in Wisconsin and am now ready for my new chapter in life as a writer. I enjoy writing about day to day (mis)adventures I experience in my new Colorado environment, the people I love and those that inspire me, places I've traveled to, music that makes my world go 'round, politics and current affairs, and general observations and ideas about life and ideas on how it could be improved. My hope is that my blog will be interactive, collaborative, and inspiring.
Ambition, Anxiety, Blogging, Curiosity, Fear, Irony, Overthinking, Self-Reflection, SocialAnxiety

This Time I Have a Question For You

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Why do you blog?

Let me explain where this question comes from.

My blogging anxiety these days is hitting an all-time high. I started a series, here, the 4th installment of what you are reading now, entitled “I Have Questions”. I’m terrible at promoting myself but I know it’s part of the deal if I want to grow my following and make something more of this blogging thing. In that spirit, here’s the first, second, and third post in my series.

I fear I may have inadvertently set myself up for failure by starting this series. It came from a good and curious place, but I didn’t think it through. Questions? We all have questions, right? What those questions are can’t be forced, which is what I’ve been struggling with. Which I think is ridiculous.

I published a post in March of 2021, when I was working still. It was about why I blog. And I missed some things in that post. I didn’t go deep enough.

It’s still true that I blog for the connections I make and the things I learn along the way in the blogosphere. And yes, I still blog because the feedback I often get is validating and gives me warm fuzzies.

I now have more followers than I did then so it seemed right to me to ponder the question again, with the hope that you will all join in. Posing this question now also gives me an opportunity to tell you all, from my heart, why I have kept this up.

The primary reason I blog, or more specifically, write, is because it’s much more comfortable for me to find the words and write them out than it is for me to find the words and use my voice to speak them out loud. Especially when I have a lot to say, which you all know I do.

When I was younger and had an argument with someone, often I’d be so upset that all I could do was cry. I couldn’t form the words or turn off the tears easily. So I would grab a notebook and write it all out. Sometimes I’d craft it into a letter that I’d give to the person who had upset me so. Often the act of writing it down had to be enough because I believed sharing it with them would not be welcome or understood.

While I love being around people and having meaningful conversations, it gives me a lot of anxiety. I feel embarrassed if others eyes are on me, which results in me tripping over or mispronouncing words, or I freeze mid-sentence and lose whatever train of thought I was riding on. Writing is easier. No one is looking at me while I do it, waiting for me to get to the damn point already.

I recognize the irony here, however. The irony of being so self-conscious when conversing with others that I don’t show up as well as I want to; yet here I am, telling so much of my business on the internet where literally anyone can see it. And judge me.

Maybe I’m crazy. Probably. Because I’m sticking with the blogging thing, including my “I Have Questions” series.

It still feels right to me.

So, again, I ask: why do you blog?

Baking, Community, Curiosity, Facebook, gardening, Google, Lifestyle

The Latest Question

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Is rhubarb a fruit or a vegetable?

This is what my brain started to wonder about a couple of weeks ago.

The visual from my yard that prompted this initial question:

This is one bush? Or is it simply called a plant?

I’m proud to say that while I was tempted to say it’s a fruit (based on my association of rhubarb to sweet baked goods), just before I clicked enter when I put that question into Google search, I thought “no, it’s a vegetable”. I think it’s because it grows in the ground.

It’s not uncommon for a question answered to lead to another question, which is what happened next.

Because of course, I have no idea what to do with it. I fancy myself a maven of the kitchen, but rhubarb is not something that has ever been in my repertoire. My vague recollection of rhubarb, as I don’t think Bonnie (my mom) grew it in her backyard garden, is that it’s not pleasant to eat raw. That must have been someone else’s garden. It tasted like sour celery. I do have memories, however, of enjoying it baked in cake or muffins.

So, I proceeded on a quest for “best practices” for all things rhubarb. My walking buddy/neighbor, who is far more knowledgeable than I of all things gardening, told me last week that I ought to be picking it within the next couple of weeks.

Time was of the essence, and because I think it’s more fun to crowd- source certain questions than it is to Google it out, I turned to Facebook.

I learned that cutting the stalks is a no-no. Doing so prevents it from growing back next year. I was told by many to not eat the leaves as they are poisonous (not like it would occur to me to eat them in the first place). Freezing the cut-up stalks was a common piece of advice, which I will be following. My Facebook friends were enthusiastic about strawberry rhubarb jam and pies too.

One response was via DM from a friend from our old neighborhood in La Crosse. She had just pulled her rhubarb stalks out of her garden and was in the process of cooking them down with water and sugar to make sauce when she happened upon my query on Facebook. She told me she freezes the sauce to pour over ice cream, yogurt, or cake in the winter months. She also shared that she makes a “mean” rhubarb gin and tequila. I’m not a gin fan, but that sure sounds like a creative use for this vegetable doesn’t it?

I also perused Bonnie’s recipe box and found a few different recipes for cake, muffins, and pie. I love seeing her handwriting on these cards. It conjures up her voice for me, which is bittersweet. Kind of like rhubarb, I suppose.

The surprise bonus for me was the anecdotal information Bonnie provided on some of the recipe cards. The “Mom” in the recipe referred to as “Mom’s Wonderful Rhubarb Cake” was Bonnie’s mom, my Grandma Pearl. I gathered this from Bonnie writing “just super good and mom doesn’t esp. like rhubarb”. Another recipe card I found among the rhubarb recipes in Bonnie’s recipe box was for orange bread. She noted at the top of the card “Dad’s”. That would be her dad, my Grandpa Fritz.

I’m thinking rhubarb sauce would be quite delicious drizzled on top of this orange bread. I’ll report back once I’ve tried making it.

Blogging, Creative Writing, Curiosity, Education, Self Improvement

A Question about Questions

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What do you think: Is there such a thing as a “stupid” question?

Any answer you might give to this question is going to be subjective.

Here’s mine: Yes, but…

Such as “but it’s a matter of opinion” or “but it’s better to ask a stupid question than to pretend you know the answer”.

I mean, technically and subjectively, stupid questions do exist. Because stupid people exist.

I’m going to resist the temptation I have to be sarcastic and come up with examples of stupid questions here.

Question-askers ought to be encouraged. Nobody should feel they can’t ask questions in any given situation. Questions lead to answers, and answers fill up our tanks of knowledge. Isn’t that what we all want in this life, to gain knowledge?

What one thinks is a stupid question, another is seeking the answer. It may not just be the question-asker; it could be one or more people within earshot of the question. It is both unhelpful and unkind to share our opinion with the asker that the question is stupid. It doesn’t move things forward and it doesn’t engender trust in the person being asked the question.

It shuts curiosity down.

I will stick with the technically incorrect yet kinder, gentler school of thought that “there’s no such thing as a stupid question” as I believe my opinion on the intelligence of a question anyone asks of me is much less important than respecting others and fostering meaningful, loving, and trusting relationships.

Simple as that.

Now, the questions I ask in this series (which began with this post) may be considered silly or odd, but I aim to avoid judging any of them as “stupid”. As I hope you, my smart readers, will avoid as well. Go ahead and school me if you will, but please be nice about it.

I’m a student, folks, and my purpose in that role is to ask questions so that I can learn. If through my posing, pondering, and answering them, I can manage to enlighten any of you out there along the way, all the better.

***Featured image courtesy of https://www.pngitem.com/so/question-marks/

Blogging, Creative Writing, Curiosity, Education, Google, Humor, Words

I Have Questions

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This post is about declaring that I am a student.

Not a “student of life”. That’s trite.

Now, I am a student of a lot of things. So many that I need to start narrowing it down, or I’m about to learn a little about a lot of things.

And that will make my brain hurt. No point in opening myself up to that.

As a student, the most important thing is to maintain your curiosity. That’s why I’m starting what might be a series on this blog here with just one question.

And today, I’m an English major. Or a student of high school English. You decide.

Gotta start somewhere, right?

Now, onto my question.

I’ve been hemming and hawing about “honing in vs. homing in” for the past several days. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. It was that or “Hemming and Hawing about Honing In vs. Homing In” as the title of this blog post.

Is it “honing in” or “homing in”? I’ve seen it both ways in different publications and I can’t tell which is right. I’ve always thought it was “honing in”.

Excuse me while I google that.

Aren’t we so spoiled that whenever we have a question we can just “google” it?

First thing I found when I searched Google:

From prowritingaid.com: “Home in and hone in are commonly confused phrases which both refer to narrowing in on a particular topic. Home in means to locate and move toward something. Hone in means to focus on something.“

Not necessarily helpful.

From masterclass.com: “Home in is more acceptable and means to direct on a target. The phrasal verb derives from the 19th-century use of homing pigeons, but it resurged in the 20th century to refer to missiles that home in on their targets. It’s also commonly used metaphorically, where to home in on something is to focus on and make progress toward it.”

An image of a Homing Pigeon for reference

From grammarist.com: “The definition of hone is to sharpen an object or a skill. You can hone a blade, but you can also hone your negotiation skills or cooking skills.”.

And, this: “So, the main difference between “hone in” and “home in” lies in the definition of their first words. Some sentences can use both phrases, but the meaning won’t be the same.”

Hmm…something to ponder for a bit I suppose.

So neither one is right or wrong; they are two separate phrases. I still am unsure that I have a clear understanding of what the differences are.

And I think when it comes to my writing/blogging pursuits, both phrases could be used.

I may not get this right (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong-remember I’m a student!) but, in relation to this blog post, a true statement using these two phrases, would be this:

I homed in on what question I wanted to start this series with and in the process of writing this blog post, I have honed in on the difference between “home in and hone in”.

I think anyway.

Fellow English students, what’s your take on these two similar, yet apparently different phrases?

Anxiety, Blogging, Fashion, Lifestyle, Music, Planning, Positivity

Leaning Into Spring Organizing

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Yesterday went differently than I intended. I really am ok with that. I actually enjoyed myself.

I had mistakenly believed that I needed 1 1/2 hours, max, to put away the winteriest clothes in my closet. I didn’t think about it beyond that.

So, surprisingly (not), it took me upwards of 4 hours.

Because it turns out that I still possessed a buttload of Spring and Summer, mostly recycled (approximately70% of which I purchased at thrift stores) garments.

You know, items that I can start wearing relatively soon. It made no sense to only pull out my winter sweaters and heavy long pants and put them away. After all, the Spring/Summer wardrobe was taking up room in bins and old suitcases stored in one of our basement closets.

Taking those lighter, happy-hued pieces out of the bins was necessary to have room for the winter stuff. And, clothes horse that I am, I will no doubt be schlepping myself to a local thrift store before too long.

I’m kind of addicted to them. Thrifting makes me happy.

Inspired by the still-quite-chilly-out there-yet-the-grass-is-green, the sky is blue, and the sun is shining vibe, I leaned into the task. I got some exercise by going up and down the basement stairs like a dozen times. I listened to music, which I streamed on my ‘lil Nest. It was a chill, all-Current from MPR kinda afternoon.

Of course, I tried a lot of items on for size. Fortunately, much of it still fit. That which didn’t or that which no longer held any appeal to me, I tossed to the side. To sell in my garage sale in June.

My intention when I woke up yesterday morning, in addition to putting away those winter clothes, was to spend time working on my next blog post. Behind the scenes here these last few weeks, I’ve been writing a lot.

However, the anxiety about what specifically I was going to blog about this week got in my way. Or maybe I let it get in my way. We all have ways we sabotage ourselves, right?

Anyway. Yesterday, the simple act of cleaning out and organizing my wardrobe was good for me. I cleared my head, made progress and got myself pumped up for all that awaits me once Spring starts “springing”.

An array of veggies Hubs got started for our gardens
Getting Fired, Hope, Mental Health, Self Compassion, Work

That One Time When I Got Fired

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The only time in my working life that I ever had an inkling I might get myself fired was when I was in college. I was trying to make some extra dough to fund my nicotine habit and cheap drinks at our college town’s dive bars. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to utilize my parent’s money to fund those things entirely.

I took a part-time job as a telemarketer rounding up donations for the democratic party. I detested cold-calling people on the list I was provided with prior to each shift. None of them, unsurprisingly, wanted to talk to me. I stumbled over my words as my nerves got the best of me. The majority of the people I called hung up on me.

Now, my memory of all this is admittedly fuzzy, being that it happened 35 + years ago. But there came a point where I realized that I was kidding myself if I thought my employer was going to keep me on. I was not a persuasive person. I was not comfortable trying to be one. So I quit before they got a chance to fire me.

Many years later, I found myself working at a non-profit serving senior citizens in the Denver metro. I started out running the food pantry there, which was something I quickly realized I loved.

Then the Covid-19 pandemic hit. A new program was being started at my non-profit which aimed to address feelings of loneliness and isolation brought on by the pandemic lockdown amongst senior citizens in our county. This is when I was given a new opportunity. An opportunity to essentially helm this program and build it into something beneficial.

The agency purchased new software for the project and I was given a new title. The food pantry was going to be run by someone else. I was sad to have to give that up. The opportunity to use my social work skills (I worked as a case manager, then a certified social worker, in Wisconsin for about 15 years before that) in a bit of a new way, however, was something I was unable to resist.

I was trained on the new software by a smart, nerdy, good-natured millennial who was my favorite person at the non-profit. Her tech expertise was spread thin, however, as the ED (Executive Director, for those not familiar with non-profit lingo) had delegated a variety of projects for her to accomplish with set deadlines.

I thought I had gotten the hang of it after a few weeks. I was reaching out to seniors (cold calling on a list-perhaps a red flag I didn’t see at the time?) all day long, checking in with them to see how they were managing lockdown. Asking questions to determine what supports they had in place to manage in the day-to-day, both with practical things like grocery shopping and housekeeping, and with their anxieties about spending so much time at home alone. Determining based on their responses how our non-profit could help or what other resources were available to meet their needs.

I documented everything I was required to in the new software. When I had questions, I would call or text my millennial tech co-worker friend for answers. Sometimes it would take a while for her to respond, being that she had other projects to attend to. Or she would come over to me (they had me working off-site) when she had a little break in her day to address whatever difficulty I was having with using the software for documenting all the information I was gathering. Sometimes she would not have the answers I needed so she’d have to do some checking and get back to me. Understandable. I did the best I could each day and hoped it would all work out.

Then Hubs and I went on vacation, to visit family and friends in Minnesota and Wisconsin for a couple of weeks.

I came back to work on a Monday. I checked my emails and responded to them. I checked my documentation to refresh my brain as to where I had left things. I picked up the phone and made callbacks to the seniors I had spoken to two weeks prior.

Toward the end of that day, I got a call from my boss requesting I drive over to the office for a meeting with the ED. I assumed this was merely a “check-in” sort of deal, where I reviewed my progress and where things stood with the project and what steps needed to be taken going forward.

I drove over and walked into the building. I was greeted by my boss and the ED as they ushered me into the conference room. We sat down and exchanged pleasantries. Then the ED said something to the effect of “This is not working for us”. I asked for clarification on what that meant. She said that “unfortunately” they were going to have to let me go.

My jaw dropped to the floor. The tears started flowing. I felt sick to my stomach. Wounded. Rejected. Shocked. Utterly beside myself.

I think I actually said, “you’re kidding me”.

When I sought answers as to why this was happening, I was told that while I was on vacation, it was discovered that there were “several” errors in the electronic documentation I had completed. Addresses and names were mixed up. The ED said my co-workers had to fix the errors in my absence. I was told that the non-profit didn’t have the time to allow me to continue as they needed someone doing this job that would not make these kinds of errors. I asked if I could stay on but in a different role and I was told “no”.

I texted Hubs and simply told him I’d been fired. That I was devastated and coming home soon.

I got in my truck and bawled like a baby. I bawled all the way home and I bawled for almost 3 days straight afterward. I was humiliated. Ashamed. Embarrassed. You know, all of those lovely feelings. I couldn’t eat and I could barely sleep. I was completely beside myself. My ego was beyond bruised.

But, here’s the thing. Time is wonderful. It has such healing power.

With the emotional support of Hubs and time spent feeling my feelings, my wounds became less raw. Just a little less raw. Just enough so that I had the nerve to call another non-profit ED who I had become friends with through my job running the food pantry to see what kind of volunteer opportunities she might have for me. I knew enough about myself to know that I had to get myself back out there, doing what good I could in the world. I needed to do something productive with my time and energy.

She took me up on it and I found myself sorting through donated goods at her non-profit a few days later. It felt so good to get out of my house (and out of my head) and just do something.

She called me a couple of days later. She reminded me of her dream of having a food pantry at her non-profit; another program to offer to the low-income, unhoused, or marginally housed families and individuals they served. She asked if I was “up for” leading it. I jumped at the chance.

Together, we cleared out the backroom and painted shelves. I made connections to a major food bank to partner with. I wrote a couple of grants (something I had told my previous ED I had a keen interest in doing but never got the opportunity there) to get funding for things like freezers, refrigerators, and of course, to purchase food.

I worked there for almost two years before we moved back to Wisconsin.

The moral of this story is this: you may get fired from your job someday. Even from a job you put your “all” into. When/if this happens, take the time you need to feel all those awful feelings. Talk to people you have loving relationships with about these feelings. Cry for as long as you need to.

Then, when the tears start to dry up, think about your next move. It doesn’t have to be anything fantastical. It just needs to be something that gets you out into the world. Into the world where you can interact with others. Working with others to accomplish something. Gifting yourself the opportunity to laugh and connect with others.

Because it just may be that the shocking end was what needed to happen for a new, surprising, and enlightening experience to happen for you.

Happiness, Inspiration, Life, Planning, Positivity, Psychology, Self Improvement

Happiness is Having Something to Look Forward to, Part 2

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I published a blog post almost 5 years ago in which I wrote about happiness being having something to look forward to.

The reason I’m revisiting this concept now is because it still feels relevant to me. I also believe it could help you.

Here’s a simple exercise I invite you to do right now. Or, if your time is limited today, maybe it’s something you could ponder for a bit and circle back to later.

Take a pen and paper and write down the following question: what am I looking forward to?

I caution you to not overthink this question. Ironic, coming from me, as I have a tendency to overthink things, sometimes to the extreme. Sometimes to the point where I have to pivot in my mind and shake things off. Turn my attention to something completely different or just journal like a madwoman to release the anxiety.

Anyway, the point is to keep it simple. Use the K.I.S.S. (Keep it Simple, Sister-or Sailor, or Son, or Silly-whatever works for you).

Simple like the image that inspired me to write the original post.

“Looking forward” in our minds, I think, releases endorphins and puts us in a frame of mind of excited anticipation. It can help us to get on with it and do what it is we need to do to prepare for the event, whatever it may be. It gets us to look up, towards the future, and not down, where the past is collecting dust.

A crucial part to having something to look forward to, cultivating the positive feelings that it engenders, is planning. It’s taking charge of what we want to do and coming up with a plan to make it happen.

As Dr. Alex Lickerman says in a Psychology Today article I read, “when I’ve looked for the difference between my happy days and my unhappy days, I’ve noticed that the former are frequently filled with thoughts about something I look forward to, while the latter are practically empty of them”.

Think about that for a minute. Can you relate?

Dr. Lickerman further states in this article “anticipatory pleasure is so important to my sense of well-being, in fact, that I now plan my life in such a way that I almost always have something to look forward to”.

As a planner and an optimist, this statement from Dr. Lickerman reflects how I’ve been living my life.

Here’s what I’m looking forward to in this moment: Taking myself out tomorrow for a little shopping in the sweet little town 15 minutes away from me. The temps have gone up, much of the snow has melted, and I feel joyful at the thought of driving the country roads to get there with my music cranked up and finding some treasures to zhuzh up my outdoor (and possibly indoor) space.

Here’s a song to get you motivated, if you need to find something to look forward to in the days ahead. Because “yesterday’s gone”.

Anxiety, Blogging, Clarity, Honesty, Life, Time Management

A is for Accountability

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After much deliberation, I have decided not to participate in this year’s April A-Z blogging challenge.

How about the rest of you, my blogger friends? Are you participating?

I realize I may regret it, especially once I start reading all the creative posts from others that come out of it.

But the thing is, I cannot commit. I’m seeing that right now, getting stuff done has got to be a bigger priority than a fun blogging challenge.

I just am not in a position to give it my all. And I’ve got shit to do.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t play around a bit with the alphabet, following my creative whims.

That is why you are reading this post from me today about accountability.

It’s a big, important word, right?

It’s so satisfying to see others who have done wrong being held accountable for their dirty deeds, isn’t it? Like what is just now beginning to happen to our former president.

In “Atlas of the Heart”, Brene Brown describes that feeling of satisfaction when someone gets what’s coming to them, as “schadenfreude”. It’s defined by her as “pleasure of joy derived from someone else’s suffering or misfortune”.

It’s not necessarily satisfying though to hold ourselves accountable, or God Forbid, to be held accountable in other people’s view. It’s hard. It’s fucking uncomfortable. You might worry that you are over-promising (which I would have been doing if I declared I was participating in the A to Z challenge). You might struggle with determining what it is exactly that you personally need to be accountable for. You might be overwhelmed by it. You may let yourself and others down in the process.

Like I said, it’s a big word. Maybe I should have gone with my second choice: “A is for Asinine”. That certainly would have been easier.

I think the word “accountability” goes hand in hand with the word “character”. It’s all about holding ourselves as well as others to a certain standard of decency. It means holding others responsible for ethical missteps, and holding ourselves personally responsible for ours.

One thing that I am currently holding myself accountable for is my garage sale project. Thankfully, I got myself some reinforcements with this (reinforcements would certainly be my “R is for” post if I did the challenge this year) project. I learned last weekend that my next door neighbor just retired. And she’s eager to find things to do with her time, even asking me if it’s “ok” if she helps with it.

So, “doing” is the bigger priority for me now.

Excuse me while I take the rest of the day to resume my journey of going through more of my worldly possessions to determine what’s going up for sale next month.

I’ll be back in this space next week.

Ambition, Community, Dreams, Employment, Fashion, Inspiration, Life, Small Business, Storytelling

Moms and Pops

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In my online search for writing fodder, I learned that today is “National Mom and Pops Business Owners Day”.

Have you ever heard of this before? I’m guessing not. I hadn’t either.

Finding out about this national day made me think of my own “mom and pop”. I know I’ve mentioned in past blog posts that my parents, Bonnie and Babe, were small business owners for many years. A women’s clothing store, to be exact.

Prior to my parents ownership of the business, it had been known as “Kay’s Clothes Bar”, on account of the building’s history of housing, you guessed it, a bar.

The name, of course, was changed once my parents took it over.

A keepsake

How the store became theirs is remarkable.

When my mom, at 42, was gabbing with her girlfriends one day in 1979, one of them posed the question “if you could own your own business, what would it be?” Bonnie responded with “I would own Kay’s Clothes Bar”.

That was on a Thursday.

While out and about on that following Saturday morning, my dad called my mom and asked if she was serious about wanting to have a clothing store, and she said yes, she was indeed. Dad had learned that morning that “Kay’s” was up for sale.

So together they forged ahead with becoming small business owners. Dad was on strike from his job at the mining company at the time, so this venture was a huge leap of faith.

Me, at 16, posing in the store

Though Dad had a great mathematical mind, he hadn’t gone to college (neither did Mom). Fortunately that mattered not, because his pragmatism, work ethic, and desire to keep Mom happy worked in concert with his accounting skills to see them through 15 years of being successful small business owners.

One thing that Mom took pride in was her ability to remain current. I think she was a young soul, really, because of her committed interest in staying on top of things. On top of fashion trends, on top of the news of the day, on top of whatever was going on in our little town. She didn’t miss a thing.

She was a social being who was happiest among others. She loved visiting with her customers, creating beautiful displays to “wow” them, and sharing her fashion expertise.

I very much relate to these aspects of Bonnie. So much so that as I sit here writing this post, I’ve been periodically glancing out the window at our “man cave”, (the name will be changing to something that’s not a cliche), thinking up ways to decorate and furnish it as it is to be (at least in part) a fun gathering spot for neighborhood parties and family get-togethers.

Yet lately I’ve started day dreaming about what kind of business I could run in this space. You see, I’m slowly but surely honing in on what it is I’m going to do, work-wise. And there’s so much potential, right here. I could section off a portion of the building for an office for myself to pursue paid creative writing projects or open it up as a non-profit food pantry. Or do something altogether different with this space.

At the risk of sounding like a total flake here, I believe that while I fancy the notion of operating my own small business, I can’t say definitively that working for someone else is out of the question for me. For the right job, the one in which I can use the skills I possess to help others, I would consider being someone’s employee again.

Of course, that would be the easy choice. Much less risky.

It makes me wonder, what would Bonnie and Babe think?

So, I’ve given myself a project this spring. I’m having a garage sale. Over the last several weeks, I’ve been methodically going through all of our stuff and determining what we no longer need. I’ve been going on Pinterest for ideas on how to put on the best garage sale possible.

I figure this is a good way for me to practice having a small business. It also gives me something to focus on as the time I have to spend watching our grandson lessens.

But back to Bonnie and Babe.

I don’t think I realized until the last few years just how much my parents teamwork and individual contributions as small business owners shaped who I am as an adult. How I think, what I dream about, and how I want to live in community with others.

My hard-working parents had so many adventures together in mid-life on account of being small business owners. Financially, they were successful at it, putting me through college and funding their vacations both inside and outside the U.S.

But perhaps even more importantly, they enjoyed running the store together. They took pride in it. They developed meaningful friendships they may not have otherwise developed. They made a positive impact on our community.

Back when I was going through pictures, just prior to moving back to Wisconsin from Colorado last year, I came upon a treasure. It was a clipping from our hometown newspaper of an article about my parents as they were fixing to close up shop and retire.

Retirement came a few years earlier than they had planned, as a dispute with the owner of the building over the lease had developed. They came to the conclusion that it was time to close up shop as a result.

However, Bonnie and Babe retained their great attitudes, with Bonnie commenting to the reporter in the article “As unfortunate as this is, it’s not a tragedy; no one’s dying, we still have each other”. To which Babe responded “if this is as tough as it gets, we’ve got it made”.

Cheers to all of you small business owners out there on this national day. May your customers be loyal, may you stay the course, and may you flourish!

Entertainment, family, Family Dynamics, Fun, Game Shows, Humor, Psychology, Television

8 Reasons Why You Need to Watch This

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In the last few months, Hubs and I have been amusing ourselves by watching Family Feud (with “your man” Steve Harvey) in the early evenings.

The two of us have a pretty short list of the shows we have gotten into together over the years, and for many of them, we only made it to just beyond the middle of the series, if that.

But then there’s Family Feud (with Steve Harvey): a game show pitting two American families against each other to win an amount of money, after taxes, which covers most of the cost of travel/hotel/meals for them if they’re lucky.

These are the things, perhaps because of my social work background, that I think about sometimes when I watch the show with Hubs. I hope for their sakes that none of them wind up in the negative financially as a result of their participation.

So I got a little side-tracked there. My apologies.

But, you know what, and I say this on account of my rosy-shaded lenses, I imagine that if you were to interview members of these families shortly after their experience on this hilarious and life-affirming half-hour American game show, they’d tell you that they had so much fun. Not only while taping the show together as a unit, but the getting there. The great seafood they had the night before at the restaurant across from their hotel. The brief, perhaps awkward and funny, conversations they may have had prior to taping with someone from the other family’s team.

Anyway, that’s my theory. Pardon my verbosity.

Truthfully, I’ve just got so much to say about what I think, feel, and wonder about this show, I should just find some fan club online so I can really geek out about it.

Excuse me while I imagine a scenario in which I’ve befriended legit fans who are real and decent people and together we form a weekly Zoom gathering during which we watch one episode together and gab about it as we go.

Fun, fun, fun!!

Ok, I’ll end this post with the most important point of all, which is why YOU, yes YOU, need to DVR (that’s how these Gen X’ers do it), stream, or simply watch Family Fued in real time with Steve Harvey ASAP.

Consider it a pitch, if you will.

8 Reasons Why YOU need to watch FFWSH (or fwish, if you prefer):

  • Because diversity is awesome! You get a more clear picture of the diversity of American families in the here and now when you watch it.
  • Steve Harvey’s ad-libbing and the faces he makes. He is a comedic genius, to me, with his deadpan responses or imitations of other family members’ potential reactions to the contestant’s answers.
  • The questions! But MY biggest question about the questions is thus: Who are and where do they find the people being surveyed? Ok, yes, this question is a two-parter, I realize, but come on! I have theories, let’s just say. It’d be interesting to find out if they were baseless or not.
  • The answers! How I see it is that there is one of two ways the almost always bonkers questions can be answered: from a completely subjective point of view (as in, how you would answer if someone came up to you in the cereal aisle of the grocery store and asked you this question), or from a more objective point of view (as in, how you think this random group of 100 married men would respond to the question).
  • “Your Man” Steve Harvey’s impeccable suits (most of them anyway-critiquing them is something I’ve been known to engage in while viewing this show).
  • The simplicity of it. Anyone can play! Not necessarily well, mind you. There is often that one contestant that’s either jet-legged or overly nervous or terribly hard of hearing or whatever, who gives the strangest possible answer. And it’s hilarious, because once in a while that “strangest possible answer” is on the board!
  • The fashion! I appreciate that the families on the show, in the majority of cases, put careful thought into what outifts they are going to wear. They typically wear a matching color scheme, have treated themselves to manicures, and put on their best ties or dresses. It’s maybe a little of a throwback to days long ago, when people were first experiencing air travel. They dressed to the nines to commemorate the exciting event.
  • You get just a little peak into family dynamics. Maybe that sounds voyeuristic, but it’s interesting to me. Seeing the love, the trust, the support displayed between family members gives me good vibes. Witnessing a truly surprising reaction via body language to an answer another family member comes up with can be hilarious.

And now, a little song and dance courtesy of You Tube and Sister Sledge. Check out those chic matching outfits!