OM Heavens

Oh, heavens. I’m a bit embarrassed at how dependent I’ve become on my computer, and really mortified at how excited I am to be getting a new laptop soon. I’m lucky, I’ve gotten some extra work lately, plus my brother is helping me with the financing.

I may be less excited when I actually get this laptop. It’s only a 14″ screen, and I’m used to much larger. But I think I’ll get over that very quickly. Lots fewer cords — oh my!

This reminds me of a book my teacher read to us in maybe first grade. It was about a little boy whose entire house was automated — the stairs, the doors, the hallway, you didn’t do anything. It was all done for you. Until the day the electricity went out. Poor boy had to learn how to walk, pour a glass of water,  even call out for his mom. He was helpless.

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I’m not quite helpless, but I’ve had to rethink a few things. Like this blogging stuff! It’s definitely different on a smartphone. You’ll have to excuse the unedited nature of this post.

The new laptop arrives next Thursday. Patience…. 

Photo Credit: © Adobe Stock

Men, Pick Up Your Brooms!

Okay, in my place I use a Swiffer. As long as you contribute to the household chores, broom, Swiffer, it doesn’t matter. (I take that back…use the Swiffer. It gets up more dirt. You should know that.)

Turns out women are making great strides in the workplace…but not at home. They still do the majority of the housework, despite working just as many hours, with just as great a commute, as their male counterparts.

Young man doing the laundry
Sexiest man alive, according to my friends, is the man who does the laundry.

What makes it worse, to me, is that men actually gain self-esteem when they help out at home. Guess why. Because they see themselves as good guys, they kind who help out their women. Not entirely sure I’m fond of that reasoning, but for the moment, I’ll go with it, if it helps turn the tide. Sometimes you have to use what’s working against you to get things to work for you.

My married friends tell me their husbands are never sexier than when they’re doing the dishes. Unless it’s when they’re doing the laundry.

If it’s so easy to make their wives happy, why don’t the men do it more often?

Well, part of the problem is, they believe they are doing just as much as their wives. Yet study after study shows it simply isn’t true.

Another problem? Old attitudes die hard, and I suppose sports programming gets in the way, too. Sometimes the women are at fault, because the men say, “I’ll do it after…” and their wives get tired of waiting. I say, wait it out.

Especially if it’s laundry. Let him wash his own darn underwear. Oh wait, I see the flaw(s) in my thinking…

I don’t know the answer to this problem. Either the man gets it or he doesn’t, it seems, and yet despite my light tone in this piece it is a serious problem. Women are tired and depressed, and getting some help with housework actually would make a difference.

Changes need to be made. It’s as simple as choosing to make a decision that will make your spouse happier, healthier and more relaxed. And it isn’t that difficult to do a load of laundry or three, but when it comes on top of a day at work, a nightmare commute, getting dinner on the table…and off…not to mention caring for the the kids, it can push you over the edge.

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Yeah, the Swiffer’s better.

I’m not saying all men do nothing. I’m sure most contribute to the household in some way. But by and large, the burden still falls on the women.

Take an honest assessment. Don’t look at how much you’re contributing, look at the other person. If their hours start to tally faster than your minutes, do something about it.

Like pick up a broom, er, Swiffer. Those things aren’t just for sweeping, they work for mopping, too.


Photo Credit: © dandaman — Fotolia

A Blogger’s Worst Nightmare (or one of them)

Oh my…it’s happened…my computer has died. I’m creating my first post on my smart phone (a little bit scary since I don’t see all the same buttons, bells and whistles, plus there’s that darn autocorrect — and what happens when the phone rings?). So now I’m scrambling to find the money for a new computer and cursing the universe because that money should be going into savings or toward a new sofa.

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All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put my computer back together again. © Fotolia

Life isn’t fair sometimes.

I got this job house-sitting not long ago, and it paid well. I was thrilled. I needed some dental work, and when you need dental work, you need it. It was a little disappointing the money couldn’t have been used for something more fun, but c’est la vie. I refused to be grateful and resentful at the same time. (It did take me a remarkably long time to make that dental appointment, though.)

However, now I’m stuck realizing lightning doesn’t strike twice, nor do I want it to. I had to move my cats with me for the house-sitting, and I can’t do that to them again. So getting a new computer may take some time.

But that’s life, I guess. (I’m saying that a lot, aren’t I?) I’m not happy about it, but I can’t waste time whining. Because right now I have to figure out how to get images on this post. And a caption with the image so it makes sense. If it isn’t one thing…

Thank You, Fellow Bloggers

Well, I had a delightful surprise this evening.

First, (I’m creating a little suspense here) the not-so-delightful part of my evening: I spent 100,000 hours battling the dreaded Blue Screen of Death that kept crashing my computer. The battle may not be over, or I may have solved the problem…it remains to be seen. For the moment, anyhow, I’m up and running, and not cursing.

Not cursing, because, I checked out the blog of one of my new followers, Hopeless Hannah, and at first was just tickled by several of her posts, especially one describing a device that allows cats to talk to us (I’ll let you visit her site yourself for more on that topic).

Then I discovered she paid me the high compliment of listing my blog under her post titled 10 Bloody Good Blogs About Life, Art & Sexism. Mine is a Bloody Good Blog! Woo-Hoo!

woo-hooNow, I am an award-free blog, but I’ll go for a listing like this anytime!

And yes, it’s self-serving to write this post, but that wasn’t (entirely) why I wrote it. Blogging is so important to me. I love to write, and while I’m seeking further outlets for my writing, as of now, this is my main showcase. It gives me an endless opportunity to write (well, sort of endless, I do have to work, feed the cats, walk the dogs, and all of that), and I get immediate feedback from people I’ve come to respect and admire, my fellow bloggers.

You have made a world of difference to me at a time in my life when it counted most.

Thank you, Hannah, and thank you to all of my followers, as well as the now-and-then visitors who happen by. I value all of you.

And hey, the computer hasn’t crashed since I started writing this post…that’s a good sign…

Every Word, Every Drop

Once I was grocery shopping with my friend Pam and her then four-year-old daughter Macy, who was nearly jumping out of the shopping cart seat in excitement at every turn.

“Ooooo!” she’d say, “I want THAT!” Another few steps, “And that! and that!” In vain, Pam tried telling her they didn’t have the money to buy all those things. I decided to step in.

“You know Macy, there are lots of things I’d like to have, too,” I began. “I’d really like a new dress, and some shoes to go with it. Maybe some earrings. But I can’t afford it right now, so I just put it on a list for someday.”

“But I want THAT!” Macy insisted.

Pam sighed. “There are lots of things I want, too, and things Daddy would like,” she said, “but we can’t have everything we want.”

“I’d really like some new makeup,” I went on, maybe pushing it a little. “And a new car. Wow, I’d really like a new car. One with air conditioning.”

Macy was looking skeptical.  With her eyes narrowed, she put her hands on her hips and stared at us. “What you two need,” she said sternly, “is a piggybank.”

Piggy bank manager

We burst out laughing. Macy didn’t get anything she wanted that day, but she was the star of evening as we told the story again and again.

Since that time I’ve thought of that shopping trip and realized something rather important: Macy knew about saving money. As frustrated as Pam may have been with her daughter’s demands, when push came to shove, the kid had the answer. Mom was doing something right.

I wonder how many times parents get fed up with their children’s words and actions and wonder if they’re doing any good at all. They see other kids in the neighborhood seemingly doing so much better, maybe, or their nieces and nephews are the family stars. Is anything getting through?

It’s getting through. It’s all getting through. It may seem futile at the moment, but the words — and actions — are sinking in.

When I was about five, my parents decided to teach me a little about money. I’d been getting an allowance, a small amount, all in pennies.  They brought me to the kitchen table, where there was a pile of pennies on one side, and a dollar bill on the other.

I was told there were 100 pennies, which were worth the same as the dollar bill. I could have either the 100 pennies or the dollar bill, but it was important I understood they were worth the same.

No problem. Got it. Give me the dollar bill. I’d never had currency before.

My parents were certain that in my fascination with that dollar bill, I’d missed the lesson. I hadn’t. I’d grasped it quite quickly, in fact.

You never know what’s going on your child’s mind, but they’re hearing every word. That’s a comfort and a warning, I guess.

You can’t be there to make decisions for them, and they’ll make some mistakes, regardless of all your good words. But you’re laying a foundation and they’ll be building the house, so make it a good foundation.

Because it never stops making a difference. You never stop making a difference.


Photo Credits: (Piggy Bank Manager) © BCFC — Bigstock; (Two Girls) © zagorodnaya — Fotolia