Life

Wheesht

“Haud yer wheesht”

“Yer bum’s oot the windae”


These are my two lines for One-Liner Wednesday. I know, I know — it’s supposed to be only one.

I’m getting ready for my third Burns-ish celebration that I do with the seniors where I work. I’ve got the bagpiper set, haggis in the fridge, and cooking to do this weekend.

These two lines are Scottish. I have yet to go to Scotland, but I love reading about, watching movies set there, listening to the accent, etc.

Wheesht alone means hush, like talking to a child. But Haud yer weesht is a wee bit stronger, like Be Quiet!

Yer bum’s oot the windae means You’re talking rubbish.

I chose those two Scottish lines because I’ve been thinking about one of my countrymen who HAS traveled to Scotland, may even own property there in the form of a golf course or two, who may be abroad right now, who really needs to learn to wheesht because his bum’s oot the windae, if you know what I mean.

Life

In the Office

I have some regular visitors to my office. I rather like that. I watch them peek around the door to see if someone else is in my office.

“Is the coast clear?” or “Can I come in?” or “Is it all right if I say hi?”

Of course, I invite them in. It’s the best part of my day.

These days, I have a frequent flyer. I’ll call him Stan.

He’s a can-I-come-in kind of guy. “How are you, young lady?” he always asks.

Between you and me, I hate being called “young lady.” I’m not young. I may not even be much of a lady. And he’s younger than I am. Whatever.

“So what did you have for dinner last night?” He always asks that. I tell him. Even when it’s peanut butter and jelly. I think he’s looking for dinner ideas.

When I was cooking for my tribe, the hardest part was the idea.

If someone told me that tonight was meatloaf night, I would make a meatloaf. But coming up with the idea for meatloaf was something that taxed my brain.

So I started writing out a monthly menu.

Seriously.

My very first blog — 20-some years ago — included a page that was “What’s for dinner tonight.” I had a friend that told me that’s what she always went to first. For the idea.

I don’t even remember the name of that blog.

Sad, but true.

Why am I telling you all this? Oh, yeah. Stan in my office.

Stan comes in to talk. About this and that. About nothing, really.

And yet about everything.

“I love talking to you,” he said today. “You’re very honest.”

I don’t know how to be anything but.

“You’re strong,” he said.

I might beg to differ, but what good would it do?

“What are you having for dinner tonight?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied, honestly, weakly. I really don’t.

I think there’s something unspoken in all these conversations.

I’m not 100% sure what it is, but I think it’s the honesty.

I’m not looking to BS anyone. My life is my life — full of mis-steps and mistakes.

Come into my office and I’ll tell you all about it.

And listen to you talk about your less-than-perfect life.

The coast is clear.

You can come in.

It’s okay if you want to say hi.

Life

Consistency

I started a post on baking cinnamon rolls and how the baker develops a recognition of the consistency of the dough as it’s being kneaded. Yes, this yeast is alive and doing the thing it’s supposed to do.

But then I second-guessed myself. Few people will relate to that, I thought.

My fallback is to find a quote using the prompt. I forgot to mention that today’s prompt was consistency.

Consistency quotes are, well, pretty consistent. Encouragement to stick with a thing.

“Success isn’t always about greatness. It’s about consistency. Consistent hard work leads to success. Greatness will come.” ~~ Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson

“Consistency is the mother of mastery.” ~~ author unknown

“The secret to winning is constant, consistent management.” ~~ Tom Landry

“Long-term consistency trumps short-term intensity.” ~~ Bruce Lee

“Small disciplines repeated with consistency every day lead to great achievements gained slowly over time.” ~~ John C. Maxwell

You get the idea, right?

And it’s great advice; it really is!

But then I read Oscar Wilde’s quote on consistency.

He always was a rebel.

And I really appreciate that.

Life

Lost

One of my mother’s favorite sayings when something was lost was, “It’s always the last place you look.”

It’s funny, I suppose. I say it myself these days.

But it’s really NOT funny when you’ve lost something and looked EVERYWHERE. This has been the case for me this past week. I lost my new glasses. I have looked everywhere.

Everywhere.

And yet my mother keeps whispering in my ear, “Keep looking. It’s always the last place you look.”

Not helpful.

This post is brought to you by Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday for which the prompt was “favorite saying“.

Life

Symbiotic

Okay — so there have been times in my life when I have started something and midway through stopped to ask, “Whose dumb idea was this?” Of course it was mine.

Of course it was.

When the JusJoJan prompt for today came up, I looked at the word — symbiotic — and thought, whose dumb was that?! I think you know the answer.

I had quickly submitted it as a prompt word while feeling very frustrated with the state of our country. We’re at odds with each other too much.

I think the beauty of our country has been that we don’t always have to agree. We are free to disagree. We are free to speak about what we believe. We are free to be who we want to be. AND we are free to seek a mutual good for us all.

Until now.

But I don’t want to focus on that.

Symbiosis is when two different species or organisms live intertwined lives.

Here are three different symbiotic relationships:

  • Commensalism
  • Mutualism
  • Parasitism

Commensialism is where one species benefits and the other remains neutral. An example is barnacles on whales. The barnacle benefits from the free ride and access to plankton; the whale is unaffected. In politics, it may be the politician who considers a bill doesn’t really affect his constituents and doesn’t come with a big pricetage. It may benefit another state significantly without costing him anything. He votes FOR it.

Mutualism is where both species benefit, like bees and flowers. In politics, this may be the behind-the-scenes negotiating on some big bill. The politician may say this part benefits me and that part benefits you. Let’s do it.

Parasitism is when one species benefits and the other is harmed. Ticks immediately come to mind. Blood-sucking disease-bearing arachnids that we can all do without. Political analogy? I’ll leave that up to you.

Life

A Matter of Opinion?

I’m struggling — like most Americans these days. I watch the news and think I know beyond a doubt what I’m seeing. Yet, I have family members who watch the news and see something completely different.

I force myself to look at different news sources: Fox, CNN, Reuters, AP

I try to mentally sidestep to a different vantage point.

Personally, the immigrants I know are wonderful people. They have escaped repressive regimes. They have stories to tell. They love living and working here.

One friend, though, from Cuba, a naturalized citizen of the US, is afraid to leave her home these days. I told a family member about her.

“Why would she be afraid?” I was asked.

Umm… racial profiling? Her life experiences before the US? I could make guesses, but my life in no way mirrors her. I will never fully understand. But she’s my friend, and I can try to support her.

This shooting in Minneapolis? The videos are out and available, but everyone watches them differently. I see a woman who blocks the street with her vehicle, but then smiles at the officer, hands in plain view, and says, “I’m not mad at you.” Her partner is more aggressive, more profane. Is the driver trying to kill or harm the ICE officer? Judging her demeanor seconds before, I would say not. And someone (the officer?), after the shooting, can be heard saying “F*cking B*tch”. AND they won’t allow a doctor to attend to her.

But that’s how I see it. That’s my opinion.

An impartial and thorough investigation would be wise and prudent, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen either.

Judgments have been made.

I often wonder about Nazi Germany — and I know that even bringing it up sounds hostile. Still, at what point was the evil of Hitler clear? Was it when they were requiring yellow stars? Or was it when they were rounding people up onto cattle cars? Or was there some other trigger? What did mothers tell their children when this was happening to their neighbors?

I have family members — people I love — who see the ICE and Minneapolis thing differently. I found myself thinking about this poem this morning. Am I missing something? Am I not seeing the whole picture?

THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT

by John Godfrey Saxe

IT was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
“God bless me!—but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!”

The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried: “Ho!—what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me ‘t is mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!”

The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a snake!”

The Fourth reached out his eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
“What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain,” quoth he;
“‘T is clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!”

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: “E’en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!”

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a rope!”

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!

MORAL:

So, oft in theologic wars
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!


This is my response to JusJoJan’s prompt today: opinion

Life

The Usual

Karen used to come to our table to take our order.

“How about you?” she would say when it was my turn. “The usual?”

The usual, for me, was a turkey reuben with sweet potato fries. It was something I always enjoyed and one less decision that I needed to make when I was at the restaurant with my father.

We ate at the Doubleday every Thursday night during the last few years of my father’s life. It’s like the bar Cheers from the old television show. Good pub food. Everybody knows your name.

Karen was our waitress. The night that my father died, some of my children went to the Doubleday to tell Karen. She was practically part of the family. She knew that what my father needed even more than the burger he often ordered was a hug when he arrived and when he left. And she delivered, with a kiss on the cheek.

The Doubleday is still my favorite restaurant in town. Karen is still the waitress who usually serves us. However, I don’t order the turkey reuben often. Now I have the luxury of looking at the menu or choosing from the specials.


This is my submission to Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday. The word was “usual.” I read it and knew exactly what to write about.

I’m struggling to write these days though. Can you tell?