Who of us doesn't have at least one pet peeve? I mean, come on - you know you do. My guess is we
all have more than one, maybe several. By definition a pet peeve is "something that a particular
person finds especially annoying". Now we're talking', right? Just think about it.
I have a few...........though I'll try not to wench about them ALL here. :) One, in particular, is poor
customer service. I guess since I worked as a Patient Advocate for many years, it's particularly
important to me. Seeing or hearing someone who does not provide good customer service to an
individual, causes me to want to step forward and say, "Hey, wait a minute here! This person
deserves to be treated better than this!" There is definitely something to the old adage that 'the
customer is always right'. We all know that this isn't true, of course. The customer is NOT always
right. But that's not what good customer service is all about. Unless a customer is being abusive
or threatening, then it's just good business (or good manners) for an employee or business owner to go the extra mile for a customer. As consumers that's the kind of treatment that speaks to us and keeps us going back to a particular business.
When I was working in hospital community relations and patient advocacy, the "customer"/patient was often stressed, worried, frightened. Anxiety, particularly in medical situations, runs high - and understandably. Therefore, when patients or their families had complaints or problems, just genuinely
listening to them and being compassionate was key. In most situations, people just want to know
that someone cares about their problems and what they're going through. This philosophy, in my
opinion, applies whether we're talking about patient care or trouble shooting a computer!! I fear that
we are in an era when good customer service is more rare than it once was. Sad.
Another thing that gets to me - and I know this is petty - is when I get a phone message from some-
one and all they say is, "This is ______________. Call me back, will ya'?" Yeah.....I probably
will but I would really rather you'd have given me some idea why/what you were calling about.
Wouldn't it have been helpful to me if you'd said, "This is _______________. Will you call me
back? I need to talk to you about _________________. ? I know. I said it was petty!!
I certainly am guilty from time to time of using popular slang. But doesn't it just drive you wild
when you see people on TV or maybe in person - who use the word "like" ALL THE TIME?!?! I mean, LIKE it just makes me LIKE crazy. It just LIKE makes me want to LIKE scream!
And most of us are pretty much physically attached to our cell phones these days. I have no
problem with that fact. What I cannot abide is the person in a restaurant or at a checkout counter who
carries on a loud, personal phone conversation to the extent that everyone within a mile radius must
experience the conversation. Use some basic good manners, will ya'? The rest of us don't care to
listen!!!
Ok, I guess I've saved the best for last. So here goes. The following comments are not meant to
offend anyone or even to be judgmental. Just part of who I am. Throughout school my favorite
subject(s) were always Grammar/Language Arts/Literature. That in no way makes me an expert
in the field of grammar. I can make errors, just like anyone else. For some reason, though, the
rules of the game always stuck with me. The tenses, prepositions, adverbs, adjectives, verbs and
helping verbs, subject and predicate, double negatives, etc., etc., etc. When talking with someone, the words swirl in my head like I'm diagramming a sentence! I just can't help it. When I hear the language being butchered, I get chills. I may love the person dearly, but I still get chills. However, I will NEVER correct someone's grammar. I'll just suffer in silence. :) And here's the reason, I may be fairly good at grammar, but to balance the issue, I'm sure I have lots of shortcomings or quirks that cause me to fall into the pet peeve category of someone else!
OK, that's it. I'm finished. I'll stop. It just feels good to vent a little. I guess there's a lesson to be
learned here. It's the little things in life that create differences. In the big things of life, we are as one. And the pet peeves, for the most part, are the little things.
See you on the porch! And wear a sweater!!
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
My Extended Methodist Family
I've been a member of the First United Methodist Church at the corner of State and Servant Streets
in Chester since 1962, though I'm told I began attending there at the tender age of six months. Included in a long list of things for which I am grateful in this life, I am grateful for my membership there and for the church family that helped in the raising of me.
Taken from Chester's history book.......the First Methodist Church in Chester dates from 1840 when D.H. Hatlon, a Methodist circuit rider, collected six communicants in Chester and organized the church. A German Methodist Church was organized in 1848 and together the two congregations
erected a brick church in the year 1850 at 851 State Street. The Methodist Episcopal Church (English speaking) met upstairs and the German Methodists met downstairs. In 1872 the Methodist Episcopals
moved to the building presently being used by the First Christian Church, purchasing it from the
United Presbyterian Church. The Methodists stayed in that location until 1919 when they sold it back
to the United Presbyterians. The Methodists then moved to the location at the corner of State and
Servant where they now reside. The building was built between 1919 and 1920 at a cost of $25,000.
The cornerstone of the building was placed on Sunday, July 11, 1920 at 2:30 p.m. by Chester's mayor and by church member Dr. W.R. McKenzie. Rev Josiah G. Harmon was the pastor. The church continued its growth until there was a need for an educational building to be added in 1961, under the leadership of Pastor R. Paul Sims. This building addition cost the congregation a total of $83,000.
I have memories of the women of the church having weekly community mid-day lunches in the church's basement to assist in raising the money for the addition. They charged 25 cents for each lunch! I'm sure most church members of most churches feel that their women are the best cooks in the world. But I have a step up on the others, because I know that mine are. :) And you are always invited to one of our potlucks, just to help me prove it to you!!!
I have so many wonderful memories of growing up in my church. Sunday School was
uppermost in importance, with such memorable teachers as Manley Limbaugh, Ray Rednour, Ruby
Cheek, Mae Ferrell, Harry and Gertrude Jackson, Bernice Woolcott, Jessie Huffstutler and on and on. They taught me the Bible stories, the Sunday School songs. Through them I learned to know Scriptures and the lessons that have brought me back, time and time again, to a kneeling position - closer to where I need to be. Even after all of these years, those early lessons anchor me. I don't remember this first hand, of course, but my dear, faithful friend Mary Limbaugh has always said, "I've loved you since you were in diapers!" And she has, since she was my nursery teacher in Sunday School. In my case - as in many people's experiences, it has taken a village. I am so thankful for that village.
United Methodist history, in general, tells us that early Methodists were well known for their love
of singing. Throughout my memory we have certainly done a lot of that. I'm sure you have also done so in your own churches. For me, music is a huge part of any worship service. We love the old
standard hymns and tend to belt them out - even though our little congregation is not as large as it
once was.
In addition to a lifelong membership and attendance in my own church, living in a small town has afforded me the opportunity to develop relationships with other local churches. Living in a
closely knit town, we typically attend services and events at other churches and learn about their people, their orders of service, their customs and traditions. How valuable this has been to me. It has caused me to have great respect and love for the other congregations, as well as for my own.
Those who have had the advantage of being raised in a church know the wonderful memories of
experiencing the weddings, the baptisms, funerals, Christmas programs, etc., the events we tend to remember all of our lives. I know that wonderful old building at the corner of State and Servant in Chester is only a building and not my actual church family. Theoretically I know it. But emotionally I do not. Emotionally - when I walk through the doors of my church - I am in the presence of all of those decades of wonderful Christians who I knew and those I didn't know......those people who worked so hard, studied, sang, prayed, struggled, rejoiced and lived. I know that I am a part of them and they are a part of me. Invaluable. Priceless. Memorable. Precious.
I hope I haven't offended anyone as I've raved about my church and church family. My hope for you
is that you have such a relationship with yours. Life is and always will be a struggle, right? How well
we all know that. But when we have a wonderful, loving extended family to prop us up......well, life
is just better.
Have you been outside this evening? It's wonderful out there. And the Cardinals are losing again anyway. So Albert and I are going out for a while, just to close out the day. Enjoy your evening and as always, thanks for reading.
in Chester since 1962, though I'm told I began attending there at the tender age of six months. Included in a long list of things for which I am grateful in this life, I am grateful for my membership there and for the church family that helped in the raising of me.
Taken from Chester's history book.......the First Methodist Church in Chester dates from 1840 when D.H. Hatlon, a Methodist circuit rider, collected six communicants in Chester and organized the church. A German Methodist Church was organized in 1848 and together the two congregations
erected a brick church in the year 1850 at 851 State Street. The Methodist Episcopal Church (English speaking) met upstairs and the German Methodists met downstairs. In 1872 the Methodist Episcopals
moved to the building presently being used by the First Christian Church, purchasing it from the
United Presbyterian Church. The Methodists stayed in that location until 1919 when they sold it back
to the United Presbyterians. The Methodists then moved to the location at the corner of State and
Servant where they now reside. The building was built between 1919 and 1920 at a cost of $25,000.
The cornerstone of the building was placed on Sunday, July 11, 1920 at 2:30 p.m. by Chester's mayor and by church member Dr. W.R. McKenzie. Rev Josiah G. Harmon was the pastor. The church continued its growth until there was a need for an educational building to be added in 1961, under the leadership of Pastor R. Paul Sims. This building addition cost the congregation a total of $83,000.
I have memories of the women of the church having weekly community mid-day lunches in the church's basement to assist in raising the money for the addition. They charged 25 cents for each lunch! I'm sure most church members of most churches feel that their women are the best cooks in the world. But I have a step up on the others, because I know that mine are. :) And you are always invited to one of our potlucks, just to help me prove it to you!!!
I have so many wonderful memories of growing up in my church. Sunday School was
uppermost in importance, with such memorable teachers as Manley Limbaugh, Ray Rednour, Ruby
Cheek, Mae Ferrell, Harry and Gertrude Jackson, Bernice Woolcott, Jessie Huffstutler and on and on. They taught me the Bible stories, the Sunday School songs. Through them I learned to know Scriptures and the lessons that have brought me back, time and time again, to a kneeling position - closer to where I need to be. Even after all of these years, those early lessons anchor me. I don't remember this first hand, of course, but my dear, faithful friend Mary Limbaugh has always said, "I've loved you since you were in diapers!" And she has, since she was my nursery teacher in Sunday School. In my case - as in many people's experiences, it has taken a village. I am so thankful for that village.
United Methodist history, in general, tells us that early Methodists were well known for their love
of singing. Throughout my memory we have certainly done a lot of that. I'm sure you have also done so in your own churches. For me, music is a huge part of any worship service. We love the old
standard hymns and tend to belt them out - even though our little congregation is not as large as it
once was.
In addition to a lifelong membership and attendance in my own church, living in a small town has afforded me the opportunity to develop relationships with other local churches. Living in a
closely knit town, we typically attend services and events at other churches and learn about their people, their orders of service, their customs and traditions. How valuable this has been to me. It has caused me to have great respect and love for the other congregations, as well as for my own.
Those who have had the advantage of being raised in a church know the wonderful memories of
experiencing the weddings, the baptisms, funerals, Christmas programs, etc., the events we tend to remember all of our lives. I know that wonderful old building at the corner of State and Servant in Chester is only a building and not my actual church family. Theoretically I know it. But emotionally I do not. Emotionally - when I walk through the doors of my church - I am in the presence of all of those decades of wonderful Christians who I knew and those I didn't know......those people who worked so hard, studied, sang, prayed, struggled, rejoiced and lived. I know that I am a part of them and they are a part of me. Invaluable. Priceless. Memorable. Precious.
I hope I haven't offended anyone as I've raved about my church and church family. My hope for you
is that you have such a relationship with yours. Life is and always will be a struggle, right? How well
we all know that. But when we have a wonderful, loving extended family to prop us up......well, life
is just better.
Have you been outside this evening? It's wonderful out there. And the Cardinals are losing again anyway. So Albert and I are going out for a while, just to close out the day. Enjoy your evening and as always, thanks for reading.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
The Old Weinrich House
You know, a new house, in some ways, is like a new car. It's shiny and bright and even has a new house smell. New wood, new paint......it's just got that wonderful NEW smell! I am, not infrequently, in the new or newish homes of friends and I certainly admire the beauty of it all. For a woman, you absolutely can't deny the attraction of a brand new, fully equipped and modern kitchen. All the amenities, cabinet space, counter space/island.....you know what I'm talking about. Just like the pictures in a magazine, right?
But though I can genuinely admire such an abode, for me it's just not home unless it's old. That's putting it pretty bluntly, but it's the truth. I am unabashedly drawn to antiquity - to the look and feel of vintage. We're in the process of trying to nail down the exact age of our home. We believe it was built between 1860 to 65, perhaps a little later. We're working on it.
My family, Jamey's dad and I, bought this old tomb in 1976 from two sisters, also our friends, whose grandfather, Christian Weinrich, built the home. They told us that Mr. Weinrich had come from Germany in 1859 at the age of 15 and that, at the age of 16, he went to fight for the north in our country's War Between The States. Weinrich's Company played an important part in the Battle of the Wilderness. He was wounded at Perrysville, Kentucky and returned home to recuperate, as his Company had been dissolved. Later the Company was recalled and they accompanied General Sherman on his famous March To The Sea. He was honorably discharged. Sometime during these years, we are told, he purchased this ground and incrementally built the house. That old German certainly built it to last. It's not fancy, far from it. But it's sturdy and it's stood the test of time thus far.
Mr. Weinrich and his wife, Marie, had nine children in this home, some who lived to adulthood and some who did not. When the last of their children passed away, the home was inherited by their granddaughters, the sisters I mentioned earlier. For many years they rented out the house to more people than I can count or will ever know. But in 1976 when it went on the market, we bought it and became only the second family to ever own it. I raised my son here and it holds great emotional value to me.
Bob and I have worked very hard on the house through these past few years. Will we ever feel that we're finished? I think not. It's a continuous journey but one that we love. Frustration often accompanies us on this "journey" but it doesn't derail us. A few years ago while preparing to redo a bedroom on the second floor, Bob was removing old plaster from the walls. He found that several of the Weinrich children had written their names in pencil on the plastered walls. Certainly we felt an obligation to preserve these areas, which we did. It just seemed like the only respectful thing to do.
Most of the time I think of this house as their house, Christian's and Marie's. We just live in it and try to maintain it. It's always uppermost in our minds that we would never want to do anything to it that they would not find pleasing. That may sound odd to someone who doesn't share our love of the old, but it's just how we feel.
Speaking of kitchens a little earlier -- I doubt that there's a woman alive who would want my kitchen. Once in a blue moon I even wonder if I do!! It's certainly not convenient or modernized. It's pretty primitive. But then I remind myself that it IS what I want. I'm willing to live with the inconvenience in order to maintain the character. Bob and I are a collective "lost cause" when it comes to this kind of thing!
Right now we're in the process of screening in one of our porches so that we can enjoy it more throughout the year without being bothered by mosquitos! You know that this idea certainly speaks to me, as it will allow me more time on the porch!
In a subsequent column, I'll talk more about Christian Weinrich, who was a prominent businessman in Chester.
And if I haven't said so of late, thanks for reading. It brings me great joy.
But though I can genuinely admire such an abode, for me it's just not home unless it's old. That's putting it pretty bluntly, but it's the truth. I am unabashedly drawn to antiquity - to the look and feel of vintage. We're in the process of trying to nail down the exact age of our home. We believe it was built between 1860 to 65, perhaps a little later. We're working on it.
My family, Jamey's dad and I, bought this old tomb in 1976 from two sisters, also our friends, whose grandfather, Christian Weinrich, built the home. They told us that Mr. Weinrich had come from Germany in 1859 at the age of 15 and that, at the age of 16, he went to fight for the north in our country's War Between The States. Weinrich's Company played an important part in the Battle of the Wilderness. He was wounded at Perrysville, Kentucky and returned home to recuperate, as his Company had been dissolved. Later the Company was recalled and they accompanied General Sherman on his famous March To The Sea. He was honorably discharged. Sometime during these years, we are told, he purchased this ground and incrementally built the house. That old German certainly built it to last. It's not fancy, far from it. But it's sturdy and it's stood the test of time thus far.
Mr. Weinrich and his wife, Marie, had nine children in this home, some who lived to adulthood and some who did not. When the last of their children passed away, the home was inherited by their granddaughters, the sisters I mentioned earlier. For many years they rented out the house to more people than I can count or will ever know. But in 1976 when it went on the market, we bought it and became only the second family to ever own it. I raised my son here and it holds great emotional value to me.
Bob and I have worked very hard on the house through these past few years. Will we ever feel that we're finished? I think not. It's a continuous journey but one that we love. Frustration often accompanies us on this "journey" but it doesn't derail us. A few years ago while preparing to redo a bedroom on the second floor, Bob was removing old plaster from the walls. He found that several of the Weinrich children had written their names in pencil on the plastered walls. Certainly we felt an obligation to preserve these areas, which we did. It just seemed like the only respectful thing to do.
Most of the time I think of this house as their house, Christian's and Marie's. We just live in it and try to maintain it. It's always uppermost in our minds that we would never want to do anything to it that they would not find pleasing. That may sound odd to someone who doesn't share our love of the old, but it's just how we feel.
Speaking of kitchens a little earlier -- I doubt that there's a woman alive who would want my kitchen. Once in a blue moon I even wonder if I do!! It's certainly not convenient or modernized. It's pretty primitive. But then I remind myself that it IS what I want. I'm willing to live with the inconvenience in order to maintain the character. Bob and I are a collective "lost cause" when it comes to this kind of thing!
Right now we're in the process of screening in one of our porches so that we can enjoy it more throughout the year without being bothered by mosquitos! You know that this idea certainly speaks to me, as it will allow me more time on the porch!
In a subsequent column, I'll talk more about Christian Weinrich, who was a prominent businessman in Chester.
And if I haven't said so of late, thanks for reading. It brings me great joy.
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
"Fall Is In The Air Or It Soon Will Be"
She's baaaack! If you've missed reading On The Porch With Gwendy, thank you. If you haven't noticed I've been "off the grid" for two weeks, no problem there either. For a variety of reasons, I just needed a little time off.
\
Today I'm moved to talk about Fall - Autumn - my favorite time of the year. So guys - some of you may want to bail on this one. It's probably going to go a little "girlish" today. We'll see.
The calendar tells us that Autumn actually begins on Thursday of this week. Though the temps right now sort of deny that fact, I'm still claiming the date, claiming the season as UPON US. The season is brief enough; I have to be ready for it and enjoy each and every day of it.
Very soon the leaves on the trees will begin to change to the glorious reds, golds and browns that we all love. Then they'll start spiraling downward to the ground, piling up, and many will no longer be in love with their splendor. Many people feel such a need to rake them into orderly piles, bag them and make them go away. Personally, I love crunching through them as I walk. I even love the musty smell they produce. To me, everything about the transformation is beautiful and magical. Maybe part of that fascination is that it means summer is finally behind us. Boo! Hiss! Summer is with us so long, it seems, and we only get Fall for a little while.
Another aspect of Fall is the glorious clear sunlight. It just changes and is almost mottled as it passes through the trees. And that brings me to a poem that I have loved for years and had to search for in order to quote it correctly. It's titled "October's Bright Blue Weather" by Helen Hunt Jackson......"O suns and skies and clouds of June and flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather. When comrades seek sweet country haunts, by twos and twos together, And count like misers, hour by hour, October's bright blue weather. O suns and skies and flowers of June, count all your boasts together, Love loveth best of all the year...October's bright blue weather." That just says it for me! How about you?
I have a very dear friend who also loves Fall. Each year during this time we can't wait to get out our Fall decorations. One of us will be first to get it done and will text the other to say, "My house is orange!" She won this year and got it done first, which was fine because it inspired me to get mine done also. Thanks, my dear Kasi!
My family and close friends know that when I say decorate, I'm not saying it lightly. Fall is in every corner of the main floor of this old tomb and fortunately Bob and I both love it that way. It's no small order to get all the storage tubs carried in (thanks Bob) and I then begin the process of arranging, playing as though everything is a cherished toy I haven't seen in a year. I try this here, that there. No, not there. I rearrange. Can't have it just the way it was last year. So it's all out and arranged and I'm going to enjoy it every day!
So now it's time to get the outside decorated, right? Bob is making plans to gather the cornstalks that will be placed on the porches. Special thanks to our good friends in the country who have agreed to make those available again this year. And then I go on the hunt for the best possible pumpkins and gourds......lots of them. Too many of them. I can't help it. It's an addiction. And I'm not likely to come home with the normal round orange pumpkins. I love the oranges AND the greens, whites, grays, etc. I also love the ones with warts, lots of warts. Most of my pumpkins and gourds will be sporting big warts all over them. My fave place to shop for pumpkins and gourds is Pumpkin Blossom Hill between Red Bud and Baldwin. A great place to go to get in the mood for Autumn. Great selection, prices and people. Expect to open the trunk of the car. You're going to need plenty of room to transport.
But you know, a person doesn't have to pull out all the stops, like me, to enjoy the glory of this coming season. All it takes is a single pot of colorful mums, a pumpkin or TWO, anything that makes us stop and appreciate the splendor and beauty that God has bestowed. Let's just make sure that it doesn't get past us before we've enjoyed it. When the leaves are changing, take a drive through the country and stop to ooooh and ahhhhhhh. For those who enjoy a glass or two of wine, remember that most wineries are IN THE COUNTRY!!!!! Gather friends on the patio. Slow it down a bit if at all possible. We need the break because you all know what's coming next! The Autumn tubs will be re-packed and out will come the trees, the glitz and greenery! Somebody stop me! I'm getting ahead of myself!
When you see the adornments on the porches, don't hesitate to stop and join me for a drink, a cup of coffee and some laid back conversation, alfresco! It will be good to take it all in with friends. It's all calling my name - loudly!!!!!
\
Today I'm moved to talk about Fall - Autumn - my favorite time of the year. So guys - some of you may want to bail on this one. It's probably going to go a little "girlish" today. We'll see.
The calendar tells us that Autumn actually begins on Thursday of this week. Though the temps right now sort of deny that fact, I'm still claiming the date, claiming the season as UPON US. The season is brief enough; I have to be ready for it and enjoy each and every day of it.
Very soon the leaves on the trees will begin to change to the glorious reds, golds and browns that we all love. Then they'll start spiraling downward to the ground, piling up, and many will no longer be in love with their splendor. Many people feel such a need to rake them into orderly piles, bag them and make them go away. Personally, I love crunching through them as I walk. I even love the musty smell they produce. To me, everything about the transformation is beautiful and magical. Maybe part of that fascination is that it means summer is finally behind us. Boo! Hiss! Summer is with us so long, it seems, and we only get Fall for a little while.
Another aspect of Fall is the glorious clear sunlight. It just changes and is almost mottled as it passes through the trees. And that brings me to a poem that I have loved for years and had to search for in order to quote it correctly. It's titled "October's Bright Blue Weather" by Helen Hunt Jackson......"O suns and skies and clouds of June and flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather. When comrades seek sweet country haunts, by twos and twos together, And count like misers, hour by hour, October's bright blue weather. O suns and skies and flowers of June, count all your boasts together, Love loveth best of all the year...October's bright blue weather." That just says it for me! How about you?
I have a very dear friend who also loves Fall. Each year during this time we can't wait to get out our Fall decorations. One of us will be first to get it done and will text the other to say, "My house is orange!" She won this year and got it done first, which was fine because it inspired me to get mine done also. Thanks, my dear Kasi!
My family and close friends know that when I say decorate, I'm not saying it lightly. Fall is in every corner of the main floor of this old tomb and fortunately Bob and I both love it that way. It's no small order to get all the storage tubs carried in (thanks Bob) and I then begin the process of arranging, playing as though everything is a cherished toy I haven't seen in a year. I try this here, that there. No, not there. I rearrange. Can't have it just the way it was last year. So it's all out and arranged and I'm going to enjoy it every day!
So now it's time to get the outside decorated, right? Bob is making plans to gather the cornstalks that will be placed on the porches. Special thanks to our good friends in the country who have agreed to make those available again this year. And then I go on the hunt for the best possible pumpkins and gourds......lots of them. Too many of them. I can't help it. It's an addiction. And I'm not likely to come home with the normal round orange pumpkins. I love the oranges AND the greens, whites, grays, etc. I also love the ones with warts, lots of warts. Most of my pumpkins and gourds will be sporting big warts all over them. My fave place to shop for pumpkins and gourds is Pumpkin Blossom Hill between Red Bud and Baldwin. A great place to go to get in the mood for Autumn. Great selection, prices and people. Expect to open the trunk of the car. You're going to need plenty of room to transport.
But you know, a person doesn't have to pull out all the stops, like me, to enjoy the glory of this coming season. All it takes is a single pot of colorful mums, a pumpkin or TWO, anything that makes us stop and appreciate the splendor and beauty that God has bestowed. Let's just make sure that it doesn't get past us before we've enjoyed it. When the leaves are changing, take a drive through the country and stop to ooooh and ahhhhhhh. For those who enjoy a glass or two of wine, remember that most wineries are IN THE COUNTRY!!!!! Gather friends on the patio. Slow it down a bit if at all possible. We need the break because you all know what's coming next! The Autumn tubs will be re-packed and out will come the trees, the glitz and greenery! Somebody stop me! I'm getting ahead of myself!
When you see the adornments on the porches, don't hesitate to stop and join me for a drink, a cup of coffee and some laid back conversation, alfresco! It will be good to take it all in with friends. It's all calling my name - loudly!!!!!
Thursday, September 1, 2016
"Full Moon At High Noon"
Have you ever been embarrassed? Well, sure you have. Lots of things can happen on any given day that might cause us to be a little embarrassed. We get through it. Perhaps we blush a little or just laugh it off. It's over. It doesn't stick with us to ruin our day - on most occasions. Sometimes a person who clearly knows us, starts talking to us and we don't have a clue who they are. That's embarrassing, but with a little maneuvering and pretending, it's manageable, right? Or maybe we forget a friend or family member's birthday. We've all done that. Not a horrible embarrassment.
I was reading an article recently about various ways in which people had embarrassed themselves publicly. Yikes. Pretty horrifying. The article talked about a bride who stepped on the train of her own wedding gown and ripped off the bottom of her dress - in public! Another story was about people at a wedding reception who had a little too much to drink and while dancing, actually crashed into the cake table. Ooooh, show me the way to go home - and now! That would be an embarrassment not soon forgotten. I'm assuming that if we got into things that people have done when they've had too much to drink, this column could go on much longer than it should!
We've all known of situations when a public speaker may "burp" or begin hiccuping at a podium - or worse, when someone publicly develops flatulence. That's hard to hide! How many of you have actually seen someone, male or female, walk out of a public restroom with tissue trailing from the sole of their shoe? Whether you know that person or not, the only humane thing to do is tell them....and fast! Something we have all done at least once is fall down in public. Why is it that our first response when we see this happen is to laugh! It's always our SECOND response to ask if the person is all right.
Well, by request, I'm going to share with you a story about "someone I know" who - years ago -
embarrassed herself in public and the story spread like wildfire through our little hamlet of Chester.
Yeah, it was me. No need to pretend it wasn't. It was a Sunday. We had just arrived home a little late from church and my son had an event he had to go to early that afternoon. He was hungry and it was apparent that with the time crunch, there would not be time to fix him lunch. He wanted chicken. Ok, I completed a couple of necessary perfunctory duties, before dashing out the door and to the car. Hardee's was my destination, as at that time, they served fried chicken. Now remember, time was key. I parked in the parking lot, dashed from the car into the restaurant only to stand in line before I could order. It appeared I wasn't the only person with this idea. I kept looking at my watch. Gotta hurry! Gotta hurry! It was almost Noon. Finally I reached the front of the line and others were in line behind me. I ordered his chicken dinner and waited. When it arrived, having already paid, I turned around and found that all of the people behind me were staring at me - oddly - and THEY looked a little embarrassed. Not to be deterred, however, I smiled and dashed to the condiment counter to gather what was needed. It was at that moment that reality set in. For the first time, I felt a draft, a definite draft in the posterior regions. I reached around and realized that my skirt was tucked into my panty hose, completely from left to right. Wow. I quickly rectified the situation and turned on my heel. I looked at the crowd of over a dozen sheepish people - and said something like, "It's pretty bad when your (bleep) is showing in your hometown and nobody has the decency to tell you!" I lifted my head, stuck out my chin and walked out as if they were the ones who should have been embarrassed! In reality I was so embarrassed I could have cried. But I didn't want THOSE PEOPLE to know it!
When I got home I quickly told my son the story and he said, "I'll never be able to show my face in this town again!" Really??? What about me? It wasn't his (bleep) that was showing! Smile.
Well, by the next morning when I got to work, the story met me immediately, told pretty much to perfection. They got it all right. What could I do? I owned it. And we all laughed. From that time on, that event in my life has been known to those who know me as "Full Moon At High Noon".
I guess, if I gained any wisdom from that event in my life, it would be to not take things too seriously. We have to laugh at ourselves, because its a cinch people are going to laugh at us. One thing is for sure. Sooner or later and in one way or another, we all show our (bleep) and it's usually when people are around to see it. Get over it. Move on. Laugh.
It's a beautiful day. You know where I'll be. Enjoy this weather while you can. It's a gift.
I was reading an article recently about various ways in which people had embarrassed themselves publicly. Yikes. Pretty horrifying. The article talked about a bride who stepped on the train of her own wedding gown and ripped off the bottom of her dress - in public! Another story was about people at a wedding reception who had a little too much to drink and while dancing, actually crashed into the cake table. Ooooh, show me the way to go home - and now! That would be an embarrassment not soon forgotten. I'm assuming that if we got into things that people have done when they've had too much to drink, this column could go on much longer than it should!
We've all known of situations when a public speaker may "burp" or begin hiccuping at a podium - or worse, when someone publicly develops flatulence. That's hard to hide! How many of you have actually seen someone, male or female, walk out of a public restroom with tissue trailing from the sole of their shoe? Whether you know that person or not, the only humane thing to do is tell them....and fast! Something we have all done at least once is fall down in public. Why is it that our first response when we see this happen is to laugh! It's always our SECOND response to ask if the person is all right.
Well, by request, I'm going to share with you a story about "someone I know" who - years ago -
embarrassed herself in public and the story spread like wildfire through our little hamlet of Chester.
Yeah, it was me. No need to pretend it wasn't. It was a Sunday. We had just arrived home a little late from church and my son had an event he had to go to early that afternoon. He was hungry and it was apparent that with the time crunch, there would not be time to fix him lunch. He wanted chicken. Ok, I completed a couple of necessary perfunctory duties, before dashing out the door and to the car. Hardee's was my destination, as at that time, they served fried chicken. Now remember, time was key. I parked in the parking lot, dashed from the car into the restaurant only to stand in line before I could order. It appeared I wasn't the only person with this idea. I kept looking at my watch. Gotta hurry! Gotta hurry! It was almost Noon. Finally I reached the front of the line and others were in line behind me. I ordered his chicken dinner and waited. When it arrived, having already paid, I turned around and found that all of the people behind me were staring at me - oddly - and THEY looked a little embarrassed. Not to be deterred, however, I smiled and dashed to the condiment counter to gather what was needed. It was at that moment that reality set in. For the first time, I felt a draft, a definite draft in the posterior regions. I reached around and realized that my skirt was tucked into my panty hose, completely from left to right. Wow. I quickly rectified the situation and turned on my heel. I looked at the crowd of over a dozen sheepish people - and said something like, "It's pretty bad when your (bleep) is showing in your hometown and nobody has the decency to tell you!" I lifted my head, stuck out my chin and walked out as if they were the ones who should have been embarrassed! In reality I was so embarrassed I could have cried. But I didn't want THOSE PEOPLE to know it!
When I got home I quickly told my son the story and he said, "I'll never be able to show my face in this town again!" Really??? What about me? It wasn't his (bleep) that was showing! Smile.
Well, by the next morning when I got to work, the story met me immediately, told pretty much to perfection. They got it all right. What could I do? I owned it. And we all laughed. From that time on, that event in my life has been known to those who know me as "Full Moon At High Noon".
I guess, if I gained any wisdom from that event in my life, it would be to not take things too seriously. We have to laugh at ourselves, because its a cinch people are going to laugh at us. One thing is for sure. Sooner or later and in one way or another, we all show our (bleep) and it's usually when people are around to see it. Get over it. Move on. Laugh.
It's a beautiful day. You know where I'll be. Enjoy this weather while you can. It's a gift.
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