Tag: blog

Beware the Green Rug, or Be Careful What You Ask For

On the first day of posting about taking part in the Minimalist Challenge I included a photo of the one item I’d be purging on that day:

This green bath mat needed a new home, and I had planned to take it to Goodwill. Then a Facebook friend commented, “John, we need this.”

I told her to send me her address on Messenger, and I’d send it to her. As soon as I had the address I put the rug in a box, taped it all up, and sent it off to Texas.

On Wednesday morning I received this message in Messenger. I’m still laughing.

Leslie – the box came today. Thank you. And now a hilarious confession. When I commented on your rug post, I said “John , we need this” ( tagging my husband) Which caused you to offer to send it and so on. What I really meant was “John, we need to do this challenge”. I literally thought you were sending me some kind of booklet or instructions for the challenge. Until I opened the box. I literally laughed until tears were streaming down my face. I never once thought you thought I wanted the rug. Until I opened the box! I am sorry for your trouble to get it to me! I definitely owe you one. And now I have the first item for MY 30 day challenge. I hope you find this as funny as I do! 🤣😂🤪

Honestly I had been curious as to why she NEEDED this particular bath rug, but I don’t really know her other than through Facebook, and who was I to deny her something she needed? Maybe this bath rug looked like one her grandmother had owned or maybe she couldn’t find this shade of green at her local Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Mine was not to question why, mine was just to send a bath rug.

Oh man. Life is good.

Peace, people!

–Leslie

Minimalist Challenge, Day 8

I’m beginning to think I might fit the profile of a hoarder. These boxes were stashed in various bathroom drawers. There isn’t anything inside any of them. Completely empty.

I’d like to blame some of this foolishness on Studly Doright. And that’s exactly what I’ll do. Brilliant.

“Studly, you got some ‘splaining to do!”

Good riddance to empty boxes.

Stretching Like an Athlete Follow Up

Several weeks ago I posted about Stretching Your Life, a business owned and operated by kinesiologists in Tallahassee. As a 61-year-old I’d become dissatisfied with feeling like a 91-year-old, while my mind kept insisting I’m only 40-something. The disconnect was driving me nuts. I’d even sold my motorcycle because it was exceedingly painful to put my leg over the seat.

One of Studly Doright’s golf buddies referred me to Stretching for Life and I’ve had two sessions of intense one-to-one stretching along with three group stretching sessions. In addition, Jen, the kinesiologist with whom I work most closely, thought I’d benefit from A.R.P. therapy at a chiropractic office in town.

A.R.P. therapy (which I’ve also heard referred to as A.R.T. and A.R.C.) is akin to STIM therapy, in that small padded electrodes are attached to the body and emit a series of electrical impulses that cause the muscles to contract and relax. But A.R.P. is much more intense, the padded electrodes are larger, and the patient is physically active during the therapy.

I almost cried at my first visit, not because it was painful, but because I could feel the muscles in my thighs and hips letting go of their normal clinched and pinched state. I could lift my knee and simulate throwing my leg over a motorcycle seat–something I haven’t been able to do in over a year.

Now after three A.R.P. therapy sessions I’m moving much better, and the chiropractor is ready to turn me back over to Jen. The secret is to keep stretching and try to gain even more flexibility in the process. Who knows, maybe my body and mind can meet somewhere in the middle!

Peace, people!

https://youtu.be/27cunjLzYdA

Minimalist Challenge, Day 7

Today wasn’t a very exciting purge, and it’s not going to free up much space in my closet; however, I’m not sure why I was hanging onto these seven shopping bags:

It’s not as if I was going to use them as gift bags. That would just be tacky. Right?

Back when I worked full time I sometimes carried my lunch in one of the small shopping bags, but I no longer have to do that. And while in the past I’ve used such bags to tote a change of clothes to the gym, I own a perfectly good gym bag. So these bags are going into the recycling bin unless someone can give me a good reason to hang onto them.

Peace, people!

Minimalist Challenge Day 5

Five items for day 5:

Odds and ends–a dot to dot book, a deviled egg dish, an art book, a bottle for oils, and a cosmetics bag. The only thing these items have in common is that they must go.

I’m always baffled by the items I’ve thought worthy of purchasing. That egg dish is ugly beyond imagining, but it was on clearance. The oils bottle might’ve been a gift. I’m fairly certain I bought the art book at a thrift shop, along with the cosmetics bag. I have nary a clue about the dot to dot book. Truly, a mind boggler.

I’m feeling lighter by the day.

Peace, people!

Minimalist Challenge Day 4

Arts and crafts are not my thing, but for some reason there are a great many doodads and thingamajigs scattered about Doright Manor that would be found in one’s local crafts store. Since today is day four of the minimalist challenge and I had exactly four rolls of ribbon, I thought it the perfect day to rid myself of them.

Four rolls of ribbon that I’ve never used, but that are not brand new. Hence, I believe I might’ve purchased these at a garage sale thinking that I’d create something cute or use them to make a gift prettier. Instead, they’ve crouched, hidden among all my other lonely arts and crafts items, waiting with baited breath for me to notice them. Alas, they were relegated to a spot in my home where cobwebs dwell.

Goodbye ribbon. May you go to a good home where you’ll serve some greater purpose.

Peace, people.

Who Is This Man?

Have you ever looked at your spouse and thought, “What the hell?” Maybe he or she has done something so out of character that you are briefly taken aback. Perhaps they’ve said something that makes you question your entire relationship.

Several years ago Studly Doright and I were seated at a booth in a restaurant in Champaign, Illinois. When the waiter took our drink order, Studly said, “I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

I almost fell out of my chair. You see, Studly rarely drinks, and when he does, he drinks beer. I felt like I was in an episode of The Twilight Zone. Who was this guy sitting across from me and what had he done with my Studly? I was as close to having an out of body experience as I’ve ever been.

When our drinks arrived at the table I watched carefully as he took one sip, then another. Studly was actually drinking a gin and tonic. What other secrets was he keeping?

The gin and tonic period lasted roughly one summer. I bought limes and good gin and became a regular little bartender. Then abruptly Studly ended his affair with the drink and I watched the limes shrivel. Life was back to normal. I was the drinker and Studly was the sober one.

So for several years now, there have been no surprises. Until today, when I opened up a shopping bag from a local department store and discovered this:

A purple shirt. Studly, my guy who sticks to blacks and grays and greens, bought a purple shirt. Again, I feel like I’m in The Twilight Zone. What’s next? Will he begin reading the classics? Will he start quoting Shakespeare? I’m shaken to my core. God help us.

Peace, people.

Minimalist Challenge Day 3

None of these things is just like the others.

A ball of twine, an empty souvenir cup, and a fake flower are leaving my life today. I believe the cup and the flower have been taking up space at Doright Manor for four years, having come into my possession on an anniversary trip to the beach.

As for the ball of twine, I haven’t a clue. Had I planned on tying Studly Doright up for sexy shenanigans? Was I going to truss a turkey? It’s a mystery that I doubt will ever be solved.

Some things are better left to the imagination.

Peace, people!

Minimalist Challenge Day 2

Today I have to rid myself of two items in keeping with the rules of the minimalist challenge group I’ve joined on Facebook. Yesterday I had planned to take a green bath rug that didn’t match anything I owned and hadn’t been used in years to a charity run thrift shop, but someone in the group said she needed the rug, so I’m sending it to her.

For today I’m cleansing my home of this container of unsharpened colored pencils and a random piece of purple gingham fabric. I bought the pencils a couple of years ago unaware that they weren’t pre-sharpened. I don’t own a sharpener and don’t plan on buying one. Okay, that makes me an idiot, I know. As for the fabric, I have absolutely no idea why it was in my arts and crafts supply box. Aliens? The GOP? Who knows?

Technically I suppose I could count the pencils individually and use them later in the challenge, say, on the 48th day of February (!) or so. But they were sold as a set and thus count as one item.

Yesterday

Yesterday as I exited the Publix grocery store on Ocala Street in Tallahassee I saw a little boy, maybe a seven-year-old, playing on the sidewalk directly in front of the store. I spoke to him, something innocuous like, “Hey pal,” but he didn’t respond.

I looked around, but didn’t see any adults nearby. He seemed to be keeping close to the store, so I went on to my car. No sooner had I packed my groceries into my car than I saw a little blur dash behind me. It was the little boy running hell bent for leather through the busy parking lot towards an even busier street. This 61-year-old, out of shape grandmother took off after him.

Just as he reached the intersection a car turned into the Publix parking lot and with inches to spare missed hitting him. Without hesitating the child swerved back into the parking lot and just stopped, standing stock still. The car’s driver, a young college student, pulled over and the student’s mom got out and took the child’s hand.

I had begun calling 9-1-1, but so had she. Now that I was close to him I realized he most likely was autistic. Leaving the child in her capable hands I walked back to the store and found a manager and a clerk looking out into the parking lot. Figuring they might be looking for the little guy I asked and sure enough they’d been approached by an anxious mom who’d lost her kid while shopping. So I took them out to where the woman still held the child by the hand.

We watched as mom and child were reunited and the woman who had held his hand while I ran up to the store kind of fell apart for a minute. So did I.

“I thought my son was going to hit him,” she cried on my shoulder.

“Thank God for young reflexes,” I said, patting her on the back while shaking her son’s hand.

I honestly thought I was going to see this little guy go under the wheels of a car. Once back into my own vehicle I sat shaking before I could even start it up. His angels were working overtime yesterday.

And now, the Beatles. How’s that for a segue?

https://g.co/kgs/ckwySv