All posts by Rhonda
Superpowers
Recently, I attended a work conference where we were directed to pick a name from a bowl, then find the person with that name over the course of the conference. We were told to introduce ourselves to our person and share with them what our “superpower” was.
Much internal debate ensued about if the “superpower” was supposed to be directly related to our roles in our workplaces. I landed on that I was “really good” with names and numbers. In that, I believe my brain retains them better than the average bear.
The person who had my name (Lacey) said that is her superpower too, adding that she had a “photographic memory”. Me too, I said. Of course, as I’m returning to my seat, my anxious brain started asking questions about that. Do I really have a “photographic memory”? Was that too much for me to claim? So of course I googled the term and came to the conclusion that no, that is not something I have.
Per Merriam-Webster.com: photographic memory
noun
: an unusual ability to remember things completely and exactly as they were seen, read, etc.
I am good with names and numbers, though. At least 95% of the time, after having met someone once, then seeing them again, say two months later, I will remember their name. And when it comes to numbers, my brain is so weird. I don’t consider myself good at math, but I tell you, I remember dates and phone numbers.
For instance, I can tell you that one of my best friends in middle school, the curly-headed SueEllen, celebrates her birthday on June 5th. I can remember that the landline phone number I had, 20-some odd years ago, was 894-8447. I’m enamored with the number 8, as I’ve written about muchly over the years on this blog. I notice the number 8 everywhere I go; perhaps I’m searching for it subconsiously because it’s the one number that appears over and over again for me when good things happen. Who knows with these things.
I don’t think it’s a stretch either for me to say that you’d be a fool to not include me on your trivia team.
What’s your superpower?
Perhaps you could ponder that question while you enjoy today’s musical offering.
Lollygagging Season is Here
I love the word “lollygagging”. I don’t know where it came from, but let me Google it to satiate my curiosity.
For me, it means lazing about. Taking one’s own sweet time. Such a luxury when we can do that, right? Just going at our own pace without the pressure of having to get something done in a set amount of time.
Yep, I’m right. It’s akin to dawdling or dilly-dallying (two other words I adore). It’s an Americanism that first appeared around the 1860’s.
From dictionary.com: “To lollygag is to dilly-dally, dawdle, loaf around, or goof off. If you’re lollygagging, you’re wasting time by moving slowly or doing something less important than what you should be (or doing nothing at all).
Lollygag is primarily used in the United States. It is synonymous with the very similar spelled lallygag, but lollygag is more commonly used. Both are very informal.
Example: Coach yelled at Spencer for lollygagging at practice.“
I’m so damn good at doing lollygagging. It’s like a skill of mine. Only it’s not useful-though it could be argued that it’s useful on a personal level in that it calms me. It gives me a sense of peace. Especially if there’s no other human in my midst to disturb my dawdling, lollygagging joy.
My favorite and most natural space in which to lollygag is in the early-ish morning hours while I’m still in bed. I’ve never been one to jump out of bed, ready to rock when the alarm goes off. My body is completely relaxed. I’m by myself (Mr. NOA is a life-long early riser), so I can do a big ‘ol stretch and not push anyone to the floor in the process. Sometimes, my brain is still hanging on to the last images from the dream I just had. The opaque sheers are blowing slightly against the bedroom windows, prompted by the air coming through the floor vent underneath it, as if breathing. The room is quiet and semi-dark. I’m sleepy and beginning to vaguely ponder what the day may have in store for me. I yawn and glance towards the end of the bed, where my beautiful boy Radar is laying and yawning too.
It’s luxurious and blissful and quite possibly my favorite part of the day.
On another (musical) note, let me share with you a song I heard recently for the first time. It is certainly going on my summer playlist to enjoy when we’re out lollygagging on our pontoon.
F is for Fun!
Let me start this post by acknowledging that I haven’t published a single blog post since March. I inadvertently gave myself a bit of a time-out. I’ve been working things out in my head in regards to this writing-out-loud thing called blogging. As an anxious people-pleasing overthinker, I imagine this will continue until the end of time.
I started writing what follows a few weeks ago.
Fun, for me at the moment, is working through the alphabet one little-post-that-may-never-see-the-light-of-day at a time. A self-assigned creative writing exercise, inspired by the “A to Z” blogging challenge. I’m just going at my own pace like the squirtoise I am, and purposefully not overthinking. Just going with the very first word that comes into this brain of mine, starting with the letter “A”.
I am curious, blogger and writing friends, do you also create writing challenges for yourself? If so, please share them with me in the comments!
The one thing that has always compelled me to write is because I find it to be so much fun. Stringing words together that capture how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking about tickles me. It’s a challenge for my brain that lights me up from the inside. And the possibility that someone out there in the universe (or blogosphere at least) might relate to the things I’m saying through my writing fuels me.
In tandem with my A-Z writing game, I’m working out (still, after 7 years of blogging) how important this blog is to me. I think I’ve been giving it more of my mental energy than is wise. When I factor in working (albeit part time), nurturing my personal relationships, taking care of our house and yard, and working on myself (remember, “Growth” is my WOTY and I’m sticking with it), blogging is not my highest priority. Not like it should ever be.
Now, this isn’t me saying “I quit!” by any means. It’s me challenging the rules I have put on myself as an amatuer writer with a blog. Examples: must I publish something every single week? If so, why? So, I may or may not publish something next week.
I leave you with a song that means a lot to me. It has spoken to me since the first time I heard it. As a 57 year-old here on planet Earth in the year 2024 who is perpetually searching for ways to bloom and grow, I find it very inspiring. I hope you do too!
My Mister’s Nickname: the Back Story
A while back, I was inspired by another blogger to re-consider how I refer to my husband when I’m writing blog posts.
Like me, how she referred to her husband wasn’t working for her. Since I started this blog (7 years ago!), I’d been calling my husband “Hubs” in my blog posts. I knew that it was inevitable that I’d be writing about him at least some of the time, since this is a personal blog after all, so I chose “Hubs” as his online moniker.
The thing is, though, I never, like ever, refer to him as “Hubs” to his face. Or when I’m referring to him in conversations with others. All I knew is that I didn’t want to use his actual name in this space, lest I inadvertently share something in a blog post that would somehow cause him embarassment. So, “Hubs” it was.
When I gave it more thought, a few months ago, it occurred to me that there was an alternative name for him in this space. Something I have only called him. Something between us that we both understand and laugh about: “Mr. None of the Above” (“Mr. NOA” for short).
As I recall, the first time I called him this was during a long, boring drive from one state to another. It was very late at night. We were both hungry. Hangry, actually. So, we agreed it was high time we stopped to get something to eat.
Now, my husband will attest to this statement: he is a pickier eater than I. I mean, he’s not ridiculously picky, mind you. There’s plenty of things he absolutely loves to eat that I will not touch with a ten-foot pole. Examples: pickled herring, sweet potatoes, cauliflower. And, of course, there’s things I love to eat that he wants no part of: corn in mexican dishes, ketchup on my scrambled eggs, and most sweets.
That night, in our hangry state, I suggested two different options of places to get some grub. I believe it was Subway or McDonald’s. Being more finicky about what he eats, had his own idea: Perkin’s. We could sit down and relax, he said, not just eat on the road in the dark. It then occured to me just how often I would suggest various options (not just food related) and the man comes up with an altogether different choice. So now, I call him Mr. None of the Above on a regular basis. He will invariably have his own idea in any given situation, often one that I hadn’t thought of.
A more recent example: I told him that I thought we ought to adopt a cat for Christmas this past year. Radar has lived with a cat before and it went well. They weirdly shared food and sometimes even sat on the same couch together. After a bit of discussion, I suggested we just be content with having access to our daughter and her boyfriend’s puppy, Max. He and Radar get along famously after all, and they only live 20 minutes away from us. And Mr. None of the Above’s suggestion? “Let’s adopt a puppy!” One that has recently been weaned, he said. “What?! A teeny-tiny baby puppy?” I said, in shock. Then we talked some more about that particular option. We were in agreement that because Radar does so well with Max, playing with him, but also watching out for him and corraling him when they’re frolicking in the yard together, this might not be the worst idea ever.
Yet I can’t say I’m completely convinced we should or will ever do it. Maybe I’ll just hang on and see if Mr. None of the Above comes up with an alternative.
My 2024 in Books…so far
My moment with reading continues. I just finished book number 5 of my “24 books in 2024” goal.
I came into this whole endeavor thinking that I’d focus on the classics that I hadn’t yet read and/or the books that are up for being banned in some circles (because there’s a little rebel inside of me). As time has gone on, however, I’ve let go of what I think I “should” read and instead have embraced books I want to read.
Not that I haven’t read or won’t read any classics or those potentially being banned this year or beyond.
In my initial blog post about my aim to read “24 in ’24”, I essentially congratulated myself on obtaining a library card. I pictured myself making weekly trips to the library, taking time to peruse and come away with books that would make me feel or seem smart.
Alas, I haven’t exactly done that. Because I love thrifting with my whole heart, I’ve been browsing the book shelves at area thrift stores (where I can also find cool things like “I’m a Scientist” t-shirt featuring the face of Carl Sagan for Mr. NOA and springy “Knox Rose” brand tops for myself). The bonus, aside from the guilt-free retail therapy buzz that thrifting provides me with, is that I don’t have to return any of these books. I buy them at a deep discount, and then if it’s a book I really dig, I can pass it on to another reader.
“Another reader” being a friend, my MIL, or even an unknown recipient via one of the many little free libraries around these parts. Note to self: Mr. NOA has, since last Christmas, been gifted every single thing you can imagine to create things out of wood-I can legit put building a little free library on his list of things to create.
So, back to the books I’m reading/have read thus far in 2024.
I’ve read a self-improvement book that taught me how to start new, positive habits as well as how to track and stack them (Atomic Habits by James Clear). I’ve read a very strangely haunting yet at times oddly humorous book that re-iterated how god-awful war is (Slaughterhouse Five, by Kurt Vonnegut). I’ve read a beautifully tragic book about misfits, loneliness and disappointment in small southern town America in the 1930’s (The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers). I’ve read a book about the meaning of life, death, and grief (Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom). And I just finished a kid’s book about the history of humankind, which thus far has 2 volumes (Unstoppable Us, by Yuval Noah Harari). This one is for my grandson, who I’m thrilled to report, has become an avid reader at the age of 10. I can’t wait to discuss it with him.
Next up is…well, I’m not sure yet. I purchased a few new-to-me books while thrifting recently and I’ve not decided which one to read next. I welcome insights on which of the books I now own that I should dig into next.
Here’s the lineup:
“The Moment of Lift” by Melinda Gates
“Hillbilly Elegy” by J.D. Vance
“Where’d You Go, Bernadette” by Maria Semple
“Fahrenheit 451” by Ray Bradbury
“Water for Elephants” by Sara Gruen
I also intend to circle back to the book suggestions you, my fellow readers, gave me when I first announced my reading goals for 2024.
Piecemealing: Inside and Outside
For all intents and purposes, winter here in Minnesconsin is winding down (not like it ever wound up, and yes I’m probably inadverdently manifesting blizzard conditions before this month is out), and spring is knocking at the door.
During this transitional period, I’ve been working on the inside. Preparing for working outside.
In addition to working on specific areas to improve my internal life, Mr. NOA and I are working together and individually on the inside of our home. Organizing, cleaning, and slightly re-decorating this joint. All so we are ready, once the temps allow, to work (and play) outside. We have grand plans for our gardens. The hope is that we can improve on our lackluster gardening situation in 2023.
I think what’s so cool about this house (house number 8, if you care to read) is that it has so much potential. I imagine us living here for another 15 years, give or take. If it’s forever I’m good with that too. As we age, however, it’s likely that we’ll want to live in a home without stairs. I am an optimist, but also a realist.
There’s a multitude of home improvements we’d like to do, big and small. With the intention of staying here for a good long time, we have the luxury of doing it all piecemeal. It doesn’t all have to be done by a certain date or even a certain year. It’s as time/money/energy allows.
Of course, life is gonna life, right? Any number of things could happen that would derail our plans. That’s why I think it’s good to continue working internally, on myself. To increase my mental and emotional resilience, to become a better communicater, and a more self-aware person.
I think both inside and outside, I’ve got my work cut out for me.
Now for the song that came to mind as I finished writing this piece. This is such a lovely cover of the classic song from the Byrds and I think you’ll enjoy it too 🙂
Pushing Out of a Blogging Funk
I’ve been feeling funky lately, particularly when it comes to this blog. I’ve got all of these tabs open in my brain with all the things I want to accomplish and I’ve been finding it hard to sit down and focus on this blog. To just write something already.
I’m at the point where it’s likely if I don’t write something now and put it out there into the universe I’ll slink back into myself and end up abandoning this blogging venture for a good long while.
It’s not that I’m not writing anything. It’s just that I’m not writing anything that is for public consumption. Is this an example of that? Could be.
Anyway, all is well and (my) life is good and all of that. Really.
It’s just that I’m in a weird transitional sort of period of time at the moment. It’s basically been spring all winter here in Minnesconsin. The water is open in our lake. But it’s supposed to feel like winter and it doesn’t. We even saw our first robin outside our big picture window the other day. Climate change is real, folks.
There’s also other real things happening out there in the world that trouble me. Things I pray about every day, like the wars happening in the Ukraine and the Middle East. People I once knew dying. People I don’t know at all dying for no good reason. The great inequities in this country, where the uber rich are allowed to not pay their fair share while the rest of the population works their fingers to the bone to barely make ends meet. And so much more.
I assure you that I believe there is hope that good and right, democracy and justice will prevail in the end.
It’s just the “getting there” part that has me feeling anxious.
I promise that my next blog post will be more free-wheeling and upbeat, as that is how I want to keep rolling. My optimistic nature is still underneath all this “yuck”.
Ageism and Me: Growing through Discomfort
In a work setting, have you ever had to participate in an exercise, individually, then gather as a group later to discuss the experience?
I have. It made me super uncomfortable. Which I suppose is the point of these kinds of things.
It happened when I was working for a non-profit that served senior citizens, which is the population the agency I now work for serves.
The exercise was about uncovering our unconscious bias. Individually, we were directed to view images of different sorts of people. Hispanic, Black, Young, Male, Old, Asian, White, Female, etc. You get the gist. We were to, without thinking, select which of two images before us that we preferred (to work with). To just go with our instincts, suspending self-judgement.
A tall order.
The most disturbing result, for me, was that my preference skewed towards young people. I was working at a place that served old people, folks. It made me question everything. Am I an ageist? Am I not supposed to be serving senior citizens because of my unconscious bias? Should I switch paths and become a teacher, like my Dad always thought I should?
I was beside myself for a bit.
But, that was then and this is now. In the ensuing years, my perspective on aging and relating with older people has evolved. I’ve certainly moved past feeling terrible about this revelation.
It’s true that I love interacting with young people. I’ve got a grandson who just turned 10 and I embrace being his grandma. I find him, as well as plenty of other people younger than me, inspiring. Being in the company of youngins invigorates me. It often gives me hope for our collective future as a species.
It’s also true that there are plenty of people older, in some cases, quite a bit older than I, who I greatly enjoy being around. Those elders I find interesting, wise, and inspiring. Not only do I have the great fortune of having a pair of second parents (Mr. NOA’s mom and dad) in my life, but I also get opportunities to interact with other senior citizens in my work life (clients and volunteers) regularly.
These people model for me generosity of spirit. Generosity of wisdom. Generosity of their time and their money. I wholeheartedly respect and appreciate them for that.
And, it’s not lost on me that I am a Gen X’r (who is actively pondering what that even means to me personally) who is a senior citizen herself. I mean, most senior discounts are given once you turn 55…and I’m 2 years beyond that now.
I guess my point is this (and yes, this makes me sound like the seasoned crone I am): age, smage. I’m more interested in other characteristics of those I work and spend time with, such as their senses of humor, their talents and skills, and their outlooks on life.
As a nation and a world, we are living in interesting times. We all have our unconscious biases, whether we participate in exercises that reveal them or not. Ageism is but one “ism” that we ought to be honestly and openly discussing, don’t you think?
Valentine’s Day 2024: Restless Legs, Dreams, and Love
If I could be anywhere with anyone this Valentine’s Day, it’d be with Mr. None of the Above in the audience of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler’s “Restless Leg Tour”. I believe they are in NYC tonight. I came upon this tour online a couple of weeks ago and quickly shared it with Mr. None of the Above. I told him I figured it’d take about a couple grand for the two of us to fly to NYC (one of my top U.S. future travel destinations). This would include airfare, hotel, meals, and show tickets.
He laughed and laughed. Fucker.
No, I jest. Of course I didn’t think he’d agree that this was a great decision for us financially or that it was even feasible given our work and life schedules. But I enjoyed the fantasy while it lasted. Sigh.
I believe, however, that if Tina and Amy could understand how much I love that they are doing this show and for how long I have truly admired them as women in the world of comedy, they would certainly decide to book more shows closer to where we live. We could easily make the trip to Minneapolis or St. Paul, Madison or Milwaukee. Plus, I also have restless leg syndrome so that counts for something, right?
How about you, my lovely readers? What would be your heart’s desire if you could be anywhere with anyone on this Valentine’s Day?
Or, if you’re not feeling particularly dreamy today, how about just pausing to consider the things, whether they be non-things like people or pets, or experiences/activities, or physically tangible things that we are absolutely loving right now?
I’ll go first (like there’s another option here).
My best friendship and marriage (34 years in May!) with Mr. NOA
The badass female energy I’m surrounded by these days, at work, in my personal life and online. I’m embracing it and grateful for it. It’s inspiring me and enlightening me and I never want to take it for granted.
Speaking of being enlightened, I am really having a moment with reading. I am happy to report that I’m making progress on my ridiculous goal of reading 24 books in 2024. I’m currently reading book #3: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Wow. It is amazing that she wrote this when she was just 23. It’s like she must have been infused at birth with an old, wise soul to come up with such a rich story with fully drawn out characters.
These two fluffballs: our boy Radar and his little companion, Max, a pug/dachsund mix. We had Max overnight recently so my daughter and grandson could visit the kiddo’s other grandparents.
Speaking of puppies, did you all catch the “Puppy Bowl” this past Sunday? Man, watching that brought me so much joy! Note to self: find it again and record it on your DVR for whenever you need a lift.
Another thing that has been giving me consistent lifts these days is streaming music on The Current. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this wonderful MPR (Minnesota Public Radio) station in previous blog posts, but either way, I am certain you will love it. They have great programs, like “United States of Americana” with Bill DeVille on Sunday mornings. They play a humongous and eclectic mix of music genres: folk, rock, hip-hop, blues, funk, and so much more, both old and brand spanking new stuff. Listening to this station on the regular keeps me, well, current.
I love comments on my blog posts too, folks! I would love to read about the things you are loving in the here and now. The things/people/places that are making your heart soar.
Happy Valentine’s Day, friends!
Pollyanna's Path 