tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39436669272483218152024-02-18T20:38:20.672-05:00My Brunette Life as a Redhead“My Brunette Life as a Redhead” The title represents the incongruities that make up my crazy life. This blog is my story presented in snippets. There is no topic that is out of bounds: adoption, parenting, literacy, humorous family stories, recipes, book reviews, etc. I hope you find the themes both informative and entertaining. I welcome your stories and feedback. Enjoy!lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-87727966638028447162020-07-27T15:51:00.001-04:002020-07-27T15:52:29.895-04:00If I could Have a Superpower it Would Be...<br />
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By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I finally have an answer to that question everyone seems to
ask, “If you could have any superpower would it be?” When asked this ubiquitous
question, I never had a great answer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My answers included powers like: Sleep
all night. Stand-up without grunting. The ability to do yoga again. Be
understood. Despite all the things I sort of wanted, there never seemed to be
just the right one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Recently, I watched a movie where the main character said he
wanted his superpower to be the ability to hover a few inches above of the
earth. Not fly, just float. At first, I thought this was genius, then I
remembered that my primary form of exercise is walking. Floating everywhere
would just result in my failing health which kind of takes away from that super
feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In fact, flying in any form does not make sense for me
because I’m terrified of heights. So that’s off the table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Superhuman strength makes no sense. What do I really need
all that extra muscle power for? It’s not like I’m knocking down buildings or
throwing cars out of the way on a daily basis basis. In fact, aside from some
brief road rage incidents and that one time I smacked my car into the side of a
brick wall, I’ve never needed to hurl vehicles or relocate buildings in a
hurry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Invisibility or reading minds is just creepy. I mean, do I
really want to lurk around in people's unspoken thoughts or overhear what they
say when I am not around? I have a hard-enough time dealing with what people
say when they know I’m listening. Social media and blogs like this one have
given people the power to feel like they are talking to no one while revealing
some pretty disturbing stuff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I promise I am not revealing anything disturbing here, well,
in this specific blog post anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All that fire and ice stuff just seems tiring, and aside
from some internet trolls, I really can’t think of a person that I would like
to freeze or set aflame. Well, maybe just one or two tyrants, but not enough to
need those permanent powers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Let’s face it. A lot of superheroes don't have powers as
much as they have fancy equipment like Batman or Ironman. I have enough gadgets
and fancy stuff around the house I don't know how to use. Why add more junk to
the collection?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then recently, while on one of contemplatory walks, I
revisited how I wished for the ability to verbally dress down ignorant and rude
people in the moment. Instead, when faced with unwanted confrontation, I become
verbally impotent. It’s not until hours or days or years later, usually while
in the shower or while battling insomnia at three in the morning by recounting
all my life’s missteps, in a streak of pure genius that the words I wanted to
speak, flow. I shout to no one and speak with articulate passion what I wanted
to say in the heat of the moment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On that walk, I realized what my superpower would be if I
could choose, to embody Julie Sugarbaker. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s genius.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The designing woman, Julie Sugarbaker, is the world's most
perfect woman, nay, human! She is smart,both book-smart and street-smart. She
is refined but also sassy. She is beautiful and for the time, very well
dressed. No woman wore bright colors, shoulder pads or peplum skirts better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She is a savvy business woman but a fair and generous boss.
She loves men but does not allow them to change or control her. She is devoted
to her family and friends. She balances her work life with her social life. She
is a philanthropist. She is sexy because she is tough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The most enviable talent utilized by Ms. Julia Sugarbaker
lies in her flawless ability to process an insult or ignorant rant and then,
without hesitation, launch into the most eloquent and timely rebuff ever heard.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This woman has the unequaled ability to spout the most <a href="https://www.southernliving.com/culture/julia-sugarbaker-designing-women-quotes" target="_blank">linguisticallybeautiful snubs and insults ever composed </a>in the heat of the moment. Not only
can she string together a series of articulate, haughty, and persuasive
soliloquies, she can do it instantaneously. She does not require the benefit of
a long shower to muster the words nor does she necessitate ten years of stewing
to put rude and ignorant people in their place. Rather, Julie Sugarbaker
listens, feels, and responds at a moment’s notice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That is true power.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Julia Sugarbaker doesn’t suffer fools gladly. She has the
uncanny ability to educate the ignorant while making it clear she does not and
will not tolerate their nonsense. Even more enviable is her power to not
ruminate over her choice to say it like it is. She has the courage and the
self-confidence to speak up and speak out. She doesn’t lie in bed restless and
sleepless questioning her words and actions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Julia Sugarbaker is a well-rested, self-confident, activist
who believes what she believes and will not not let others intimidate her. That
is not to say she is not open-minded and willing to learn from and even admit
to her mistakes. She wears her heart on her sleeve beside her intellect and
bravery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yes, I want my superpower to be, becoming Julia Sugarbaker. So,
watch out you people who have been rude, crude, cruel and unjust to me. Once I
acquire that superpower, I’m coming for you. I will give you a lecture as
iconic as Julia’s when the lights went out in Georgia tirade. I might even wear
shoulder pads and a peplum skirt instead of a cape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-80757792486275384082019-12-03T12:56:00.001-05:002019-12-03T12:56:53.213-05:00Give the Gift of Experiences<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: purple;">By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, here we are back in the most anticipated and dreaded time of the year. The Holidays. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How can something so beloved be so loathed?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The answer is easy. Expectations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We have created a monster out of this holiday season with our consumerism. The unrealistic expectations of perfection are pervasive and stifling. We are expected to spend loads of cash to create an idealistic holiday full of picture perfect decor, food, clothing, and gifts just to name a few. We work hard year round just to blow a huge amount of our earnings on things. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">According to some<a href="https://fortunly.com/statistics/christmas-spending-statistics/" target="_blank"> statistics,</a> the <a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/media/how-much-should-you-save-up-for-christmas/4/" target="_blank">average household spends $1500.00 on the holidays</a>. That's fine if you bring in 150K a year, but for the average Joe and Joanna that's a lot of<a href="https://writingexplained.org/slang-for-money" target="_blank"> moola greenbacks, dough, etc.</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The problem goes beyond the exorbitant amount of money we spend. It's that those things that we buy disappear or lose their appeal almost instantly. Who hasn't spent hundreds of dollars and worked late into the night to purchase and assemble that gift your kid begged for only to be disappointed when the child ignores the toy and plays with the box instead?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Most kids will play with a toy for a day or two, maybe a week if your lucky. Then it starts to collect dust in the corner of the toy room (by toy room I mean your living room because let's face it the toys never stay where they are supposed to be). The child then begs for the next best thing they saw on TV or that their friend got for Christmas. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm all for a great meal with family and friends gathered to talk and laugh and just enjoy each others company. Sipping wine or cocktails and eating delicious food is, in my mind, money well spent. Making memories is they way to go. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Even buying decor for the Holidays is money well spent. I like to buy an ornament each year for my daughters that represents a milestone or a hobby of the past year like a piano or <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mellophone" target="_blank">mellophone</a>. Maybe the ornament will represent a favorite thing like candy or shoes. These ornaments are hung each year and create conversations and laughter as we recall each girl's past experiences. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Decor can be passed through the generations to create bonds through time. Stories of grandparents and other relatives who owned the ornaments create an unbreakable bond between family who never got to meet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Great memories and experiences make the best gifts. So how can we come to terms with the embedded expectation to buy things even though we know many of those things will be unappreciated or forgotten quicker than it took to unwrap them?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Easy Peasy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have complied a few ideas of experience gifts that you can even wrap and place under the tree. The best part about experience gifts is that they often provide more opportunities for you to spend quality time with the people you love the most.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">These gifts are great for adults and kids alike.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">5 Experiences to Gift</span></b></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>1. Zoo membership</b>. <a href="https://nationalzoo.si.edu/membership/reciprocating-zoos" target="_blank">Many zoo passes include a free or discounted pass to zoos across the country.</a> So if you by a pass to the Pittsburgh zoo might use that same pass in Cleveland, Columbus, and Baltimore, all with in driving distance. Look to see if your zoo is part of the same network.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To make this gift more exciting wrap it up with a stuffed animal, an animal picture book, or coloring book about zoos to give something more tangible on Christmas. Spend time planning trips or researching zoo animals with your kids or grandkids. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>2. Museum Memberships </b>Not all museums are free like the Smithsonian or the <a href="https://www.clevelandart.org/" target="_blank">Cleveland Museum of Art</a> (an awesome place). Buying a museum pass is a great gift. If you buy a pass to the <a href="https://carnegiemuseums.org/join-support/membership/" target="_blank">Carnegie art museum</a> you get entrance to four museums! That is an awesome deal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To make this gift more exciting wrap up some sketching tools like a paper and pencils to encourage kids to draw what they see when visiting. You can give them a framed print of an artwork they might find at one of the museums. Of course take time to plan an adventure with your child. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>3. Tickets to a concert or sporting event</b> Pair this with some memorabilia or a CD (do they still make those). This gift is sure to thrill any music or sports fan. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>4. A trip to a nearby town</b> for a day or longer to explore. Make it more affordable by planning a picnic and going when there are free events like festivals or outdoor concerts. Heck if you are feeling generous give tickets for full vacation week. Who wouldn't love that! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Important note here: If you do give a vacation for a gift beyond a weekend you must think carefully about whether or not you should tag along. Sometimes giving the gift without being part of the deal is the most generous thing you can do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>5. Lessons for a favorite hobby </b>Purchasing lessons for art, theater, music, sports, sewing, knitting, or a million other things will give your loved one a chance to learn or refine a skill. So many people won't splurge on something like this so do it for them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To make this gift more exciting pair it with things they will need to complete the class like art supplies or a bus pass. Offer to babysit on the nights they need to be free for class. Whatever it takes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I hope these ideas inspire you to think beyond the traditional sweater or Barbie doll. Give the gift that keeps giving, EXPERIENCES!</span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-44777662873652298352019-09-02T17:15:00.001-04:002019-09-02T18:00:34.186-04:00September Sights and Sounds<div style="text-align: center;">
By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</div>
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It's labor day 2019 and my head is foggy with the sleeplessness of the night before. The storms were big and loud and long. The humidity rose unexpectedly and the breeze through my third floor windows was not enough to keep me cool enough for a restful sleep. The dog barked in fear. My daughters radio blasted music from beneath her closed door.</div>
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Eventually the storm died out and sleep came back to me in fits and starts.</div>
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The morning brought chatter from my youngest and her friend. The news blared from the kitchen TV with more stories about guns and hurricanes. It seems peril is everywhere. Everywhere but here. My home is safe and cozy even with the nonstop talking and bickering between all of us.</div>
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Later, I turned on a movie because it's that kid of day-cloudy and damp. The yard is soaked from the torrential rains. A mist and drizzle persists. I try to tune out all the background noise and focus on the actors before me. </div>
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The family exits returning my oldest daughter to college after her long weekend home. I stifle the tears pricking my eyes as I say goodbye once again wondering when I will see her again. I think she was too.</div>
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I stay behind to recharge and regroup with much needed alone time. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The movie (The Women in Black) was perfect. It was compelling without tragedy. (There is enough real life tragedy I don't need fictionalized trauma.) It was happy but not trite. I was left feeling better than I was when it started. </div>
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I noticed the sun peeking through the thick curtain of grey clouds and allowed myself to be drawn outside to sit in the yard. I resisted the urge to put on music or listen to an audio book. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I just sat and looked and listened enjoying the quiet.</div>
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The ice cream truck chimed its tunes in the distance trying to coax the last customers of summer out of their homes and into the rain for a frozen treat.</div>
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The wind rustled the leaves making that ruffled sound that we will not have for much longer as Autumn can be felt and smelled in the breeze. The broken umbrella creaks in the wind sounding a bit like the doors in all the haunted houses that will spring up soon.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9qQvJUsBFjgMWo1wr2dTEVrXWojvwzB8jMp6eqs60ltweJHHn-uEJruvai9xt2wuBSX3NXi4S5PH_QbBFVMszRnQzeMh_ICBfcZFqnCMuxlza4KrZxPsSrnP6CtMHk-KzKVUGR0w/s1600/IMG-1173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9qQvJUsBFjgMWo1wr2dTEVrXWojvwzB8jMp6eqs60ltweJHHn-uEJruvai9xt2wuBSX3NXi4S5PH_QbBFVMszRnQzeMh_ICBfcZFqnCMuxlza4KrZxPsSrnP6CtMHk-KzKVUGR0w/s320/IMG-1173.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The bees buzzed my sedum getting the last of the flower pollen before all the blooms die off. The crickets and other creatures chirped, and trilled, and sang the songs of evening even though it was just late afternoon.</div>
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The birds were quiet. I suppose they are leaving unnoticed for warmer places.</div>
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I could hear the water seeping into the ground in the places that were turned to bog in the late summer storm.</div>
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I saw the fading flowers in my pots and gardens in the backdrop of more vibrant and hardy species like my dinner plate Hibiscus.</div>
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The vegetable garden was decorated with pretty pests like the Japanese Beetles. A few tomatoes struggle to turn red before it's too late for them.</div>
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The pear tree has one last pear to offer. Last year we had dozens. This year blight limited our crop to just three.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKuohhX_q79l-h8fLN6cTnBM8dhyoCWDgqfzMHqaPN365EB4xAlEUX3KpTG8NusbVRCsIRTCZW-TLjSbwYvgZnA5ms3yndcCiZc9jMXblLi86IFLQGNHLmpmSbavcH-c4bgKHts3O3/s1600/IMG-1180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKuohhX_q79l-h8fLN6cTnBM8dhyoCWDgqfzMHqaPN365EB4xAlEUX3KpTG8NusbVRCsIRTCZW-TLjSbwYvgZnA5ms3yndcCiZc9jMXblLi86IFLQGNHLmpmSbavcH-c4bgKHts3O3/s320/IMG-1180.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The grape vines drip with fruit both green and purple. A good pruning will make them flourish next year. </div>
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The yard is still pretty and inviting even with the fall approaching. </div>
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Last night we had a fire to warm us in the cool evening air. The scent of burnt wood lingers.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
My reverie is suddenly interrupted by the return of my family minus one. The truck pulls in, the doors slam, the dog barks in greeting. My youngest daughter is still talking, she never stops. She comes in with stories to tell even without an audience. </div>
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I suppose I might be doing the same. Even with no one listening or not many, it feels good to share.</div>
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Enjoy these days while they last.</div>
lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-70883687989564244132019-08-04T16:36:00.002-04:002019-12-03T07:22:21.364-05:00Making the world a better place one quarter at a time: How ALDI is changing the world for the better.<div style="text-align: center;">
By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfMAoosHmb3hAxb8shAtu2NqYw3mdJZ_nJPBN0PGwUI9pFdu8enHBMAi-GMgAofEGi82AoetUS0yuk_oAgt36WsZit14z32eBY9siUX3lJOirUki-S2jVlQtB2_EpQnyj7od7MURi/s1600/elderly-woman-young-grocery-store-260nw-371623984.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="390" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfMAoosHmb3hAxb8shAtu2NqYw3mdJZ_nJPBN0PGwUI9pFdu8enHBMAi-GMgAofEGi82AoetUS0yuk_oAgt36WsZit14z32eBY9siUX3lJOirUki-S2jVlQtB2_EpQnyj7od7MURi/s400/elderly-woman-young-grocery-store-260nw-371623984.webp" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Times
are tough. Mass shootings are happening more than daily. We had 4 shootings in
the last 24 hours. I believe the latest statistic shows more 253 mass shootings
in the last 216 days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
am scared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
want to cry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
want to scream <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">With
these incidences, we cannot deny that we are living in a divisive and violent
world. We are polarized by politics, racism, sexism, poverty, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>wealth, climate change and many other factors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
can’t help but feel that we are meaner, more judgmental and more isolated than
ever before. We cannot agree to disagree. Instead, we launch anonymous insults
over social media. We unfriend and unfollow each other. We say hateful things
with no regard to who we might be offending. We no longer talk and listen. We
make snap judgements based on sound bites and other people’s opinions. We
refuse to meet in the middle. We wave and wear symbols of hate<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We
do virtually nothing to make the change we need.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Before
the world got so complicated, I allowed the little things in day to day life make
me angry. I would rail against the small injustices like line cutters or
mispriced merchandise. These minor infractions got my ire up sometimes to
boiling. It’s funny how just making it out of a store without being shot is the
current goal. Coupons and grabbing the last bargain off the shelf no longer
matter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Before
gun violence distracted my shopping adventures, one of my biggest annoyances at
the grocery store revolved around shopping carts. I would pull into a parking
spot only to discover that some thoughtless patron had left his or her cart
smack dab in the middle of the diagonal lines marking the deceptively available
spot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This
left me with some hard choices. A) I could put the car in park, get out and
move the cart. B) I could use my car to nudge the cart out of the way. C) I
could relocate hoping to find another truly free spot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This
never failed to put me in a foul mood before I even exited my vehicle. No doubt
I would take my frustrations out on the other customers or staff (though never
with a gun). I would be impatient as I pushed past carts stopped a bit too far in
the aisle. I’d groan as that indecisive lady hemmed and hawed about which jarred
sauce she wanted. I would stand seething as I waited for my turn making the
same decision which, of course, I would make much more quickly. Next thing I
know I’m rudely reaching in front of her offering a curt and insincere, “excuse
me” or “sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Equally
annoying, after finding a truly free spot and walking the half mile to the
store, I would enter through the automatic glass doors to be greeted by the
cavernous area that was supposed to house the carts for the shoppers. The echo
of my sigh and grunts of frustration would fall on deaf ears as the staff was
busy stocking shelves with merchandise I had nowhere to store. They were oblivious
to the lack of ready carts for the customers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A
simple look out of the plate glass window revealed a parking lot over flowing
with carts. Carts in corals. Carts in parking spots. Carts abandoned on the
small dirt islands that helped to divide the parking are into neat rows. Carts
everywhere but inside the store entrance where I needed one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My aggravation, once again, would translate into anger as I stormed out into the
lot to push a rattling metal cart over the rough and uneven pavement. The loud
vibrations finally abated once we reached the smooth linoleum of the store. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Safely inside, the front wheel revealed an annoying
squeak previously masked by the thunders trip inside and of course, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a slight tug to the left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://www.aldi.us/en/?pk_campaign=Corporate&pk_kwd=%20+aldi%20+supermarkets&pk_source=Google&pk_medium=SEM&pk_content=Brand&gclid=Cj0KCQjwhJrqBRDZARIsALhp1WSGzgqU6PrEaQAUJxLSK5FllUprsA7zW5nIbQA9bxCgTcy6hksXby0aArjREALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds" target="_blank">ALDI grocery stores,</a> with a stroke of simple genius, solved all of these problems, well
most of them, by simply tethering each cart to the one in front with a device
that requires a quarter to free a cart to be used in the store. The quarter is easily
retrieved once shopping is completed, the groceries are safely stored in the
car parked in the spot you pulled into the first time without incident and the
empty cart glides back across the seemingly glassy smooth terrain of the ALDI parking
lots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">With
this simplistic system no carts are left abandoned in strange and inconvenient
places. Plenty of carts wait in the coral (at least on the off-peak hours I
shop) ready for the customer to slide in the quarter before slipping easily into
the store. Freed from the frustrations and annoyances of traditional grocery
store cart usage, customers’ grasps their carts and shop with kind and joyful
hearts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Shoppers,
overflowing with patience, gladly wait for that weird, indecisive lady to smell
each melon oblivious to dozens of others stacking up behind her as her cart
blocks the entire aisle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The
staff smiles and practically sings as they checkout customers and stock shelves
knowing they do not have to tramp out of doors in all types of inclement
weather to wrangle carts left willy-nilly in the lot. Customers’ kindness rains
down on them making them smile and even like their job. They volunteer to get that
item you overlooked bringing an array of flavors or styles to let you choose never
asking the customer to reshelve it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A
simple quarter, twenty-five little pennies, have made the world a better place.
A quarter is just enough money to motivate people to want the refund and return
the cart but not so much as to discourage shoppers from spending lots of money.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Even
better, a generous spirit overtakes some folks. These new philanthropists offer
up their carts to new arrivals waving away the quarter proffered to pay them
back. This simple act of kindness inspires a chain reaction of paying it
forward as that one cart gets handed off free of charge all day long. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">People
help each other out by commandeering recently unloaded carts right at the trunk
of their fellow shopper’s car saving them from pushing it back to the coral. An
act rarely witnessed in traditional grocery store parking lots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The
good mood of the customers often translates to other small gestures such as
helping a less abled body person wrangle that impulsively purchased bookshelf
into their too small car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The
addition of a quarter to release a cart into the customers care is genius. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Twenty-five
cents might just be all we need to make our country unite and find compassion
for each other. The white supremacists hands the cart to the Mexican-American.
The misogynistic boss hands off a cart to the administrative assistant who
suffers with low pay and daily harassment. The climate change denier helps the
woman with cloth bags unload her cart of the organic, ethically sourced foods
she purchased so he can push it back into the store to load up with his
processed foods.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">T</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">he
mighty quarter may just lead the way to making us kinder, safer and happier.</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: red; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="color: red; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just in case that doesn’t work stop what you are doing and write or
call your congressional representatives and demand change so we can shop
without getting shot.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: red; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Links for contacts can be found here: </span> <a href="https://www.conginst.org/contact-congress/">https://www.conginst.org/contact-congress/</a><span style="color: red; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-39547428285216139962019-04-09T06:54:00.002-04:002019-04-09T06:54:51.396-04:00Returning to Nature Through Pictures<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Spring has sprung here in Western PA! The trees are budding. The daffodils are blazing in hues of yellow and orange. The grass is greening up and needs to be cut (or "needs cut" if you're a local). The songbirds are busy with their mating rituals and provide a symphony of music as the sun rises. The pollen is torturing every poor soul that suffers from seasonal allergies.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This past weekend I joined a group of folks who I'd like to think were significantly older, but in reality were my peers, <i>sigh</i>, on a trek through the woods of the nearby Yellow Creek State Park. We were led by an experienced nature photographer. She gave a thorough and information-packed talk on how to best take pictures in nature using whatever camera you own. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some of my photog cohorts lumbered around with cameras and tripods or cameras with lenses as tall as a toddler or just a simple cell phone. All listened intently as we learned how to take advantage of light and shadows. We learned how to frame a shot. We were encouraged to spend time with one subject and take the shot from different angles using a variety of settings (when available) to get a different effect.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We began our slow meandering walk into the woods forcing ourselves to see the beauty in the leafless trees, the rotting detritus of last fall that carpeted the forest floor and the general browness of the landscape.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After a few minutes and shifting my idea of what beauty is, I was able to spot a variety of shapes, textures and even some color peeking through to photograph. I spent some time fiddling with the manual settings on my Canon EOS not relying on the automatic options. I changed F stops and ISO. I zoomed and unzoomed. I got low and aimed high. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I found green lichen making interesting patterns on the bark of trees. I found bark in all types of textures and shades of brown. Moss provided a spectrum of greens and textures. The sun glowed through thick clouds that at first appeared to be a solid wall but when studied they had shape and shades of grey. The barren trees made for dramatic angles. Red berries the birds hadn't eaten popped against grey-brown bark. Little yellow wildflowers popped from brown leaves providing a contrasting background.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Once I started to appreciate the beauty of early spring, I couldn't stop taking pictures. Most of my pictures did not come out as I had intended but it was nice to get back into using my camera that had been collecting dust. I needed this push to get me excited about a hobby I let slip away. I love taking pictures, especially black and white photos.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As I started to snap shot after shot I became excited. I got dirty as I knelt i in the ground for better angles. I wandered off from the group and winded my way into the woods looking for more interesting images.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I would have kept at it but my 10-year-old camera decided it had had enough and just shut off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As I wait for the new battery to arrive, I anticipate my next foray into photography so I can hone my skills.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Until then I will share some of my not so great shots with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Happy Spring. Take time to enjoy the little beauties that get lost.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-31937618850181128062018-12-04T06:00:00.000-05:002019-12-04T07:25:02.627-05:00Magical Christmas on a Dime<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My mother always managed to make our Christmases magical. It started with crafting hand painted ornaments or building them from clothespins with scraps of fabric and sundries from her sewing room. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We always visited the local tree lot to select the perfect “fresh” cut evergreen tree. We would adorn that tree with the ornaments we’d made at home and school as well as the store bought and inherited treasures. Each branch of our perfectly lit tree would be finished with exactly three evenly hung pieces of tinsel. No balling it up into a frizzy mess and tossing it on at our house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We would smell batches of her cookies baking throughout the season as mom perfected old and new recipes. We would be allowed to help decorate her cut out shapes with candies before she baked them. We even were permitted to select a few shapes to be made into her delicious sparkle cookies. There were parties and family gatherings as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Of course, the most anticipated time was Christmas morning when we would find mounds of presents under the tree and overflowing from our stockings. My sister and I received very few gifts throughout the year. Our parents did not spoil us by buying us every little toy we coveted. On our birthdays, we looked forward to a few gifts, but Christmas was when we hit the jackpot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m not sure why my mom felt compelled to lavish us with such riches on this day. Perhaps she was trying to outdo her childhood. She was the fourth child of nine and my grandparents were not wealthy so gifts at Christmas were sparse. Perhaps she was trying to compensate for our emotionally absent and verbally abusive father. More than either of those, I suspect she liked to shop. She was an expert bargain hunter and that allowed her to buy many, many things for her girls at Christmas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">On Christmas morning it looked as if Santa had barfed under our tree. There were unwrapped toys that were clearly from Santa himself. Beyond those lay meticulously wrapped boxes that were from mom and dad to either my sister or myself. There had to be at least 20 gifts for each of us. There were toys, clothes and books.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After we opened those gifts, my grandmother would arrive with bags and bags that overflowed with gifts. Many of her gifts were handmade. She was crafty and a bit eccentric. Her gifts never disappointed. The most memorable of her lovingly crafted gifts was a piece of thick cardboard cutout into the shape of a wreath. She coated it in bright red wax and pressed seashells into the wax before it set. Then, she topped it off with a red feather. What eight-year-old wouldn’t want to unwrap that on Christmas day?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There were always more gifts from family friends. We would travel to my other grandma’s house where we would open several more gifts. The bounty and booty were overwhelming and glorious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The tradition of overabundance continues to this day. My mother has created a monster of a tradition. The difference between then and now is that we do buy things for ourselves and our children throughout the year. We spoil ourselves and our kids 365 days a year, not just that one spectacular morning. As a result, the gifts at Christmas become redundant and not as exciting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not needing stuff or even wanting anything in particular combined with dwindling expendable income has made me want to downsize Christmas and focus more on the quality of the gift, not the quantity. The quality can be found in the meaning, not in the cost. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A thoughtful gift means more to me than an expensive one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have been encouraging, to mixed reviews, the idea of low cost or free gifts for our Christmas. Rather than spending two or more hours opening gifts, why don’t we spend that time playing games, cooking and sharing stories? Christmas is often a time for families to reconnect, that in itself is a gift.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">Ideas for Free or Cheap Gifts</span></span></h3>
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<li><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Make a photo album</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Frame a picture you made or a photo you took</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Make a Mixed CD/[/playlist to share</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Regift something you no longer need like jewelry, a pretty scarf, an heirloom cast iron pan or knife</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #990000;">Offer your services like babysitting, cleaning, painting, etc.</span>..</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gifts of food like granola, spiced nuts, soups mixes, baked goods, etc...</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A box/book of your favorite recipes</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A day out to a museum, park or another free place</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A homemade meal</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A handmade gift, not a wax wreath with seashells, but something you sewed, knitted, sculpted, painted, etc….</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My mother happily agreed to provide gifts from the heart and her kitchen. So now, at Christmas, I open homemade cookies, hand-me-down jewelry, CD’s of her favorite music and 20 store-bought gifts. Not quite what I had in mind, but I appreciate the effort.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/WI02_UJ1C6I/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WI02_UJ1C6I?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #38761d;">All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="color: #990000;">Sparkle Cookie Recipe:</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Pre-Heat oven to 375</span><!--[if gte msEquation 12]><m:oMath><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:
"Cambria Math",serif;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial'><m:r>°</m:r></span></i></m:oMath><![endif]--><!--[if !msEquation]--><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; position: relative; top: 4.0pt;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 cup (2 sticks) butter (softened)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 ½ cups Sifted confectioners’ sugar (powdered sugar)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 tsp Vanilla<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 egg<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">2 ½ cups sifted flour<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 tsp cream of tartar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">¼ tsp salt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Cream butter, vanilla, sugar and egg together. Sift dry ingredients together and add to the first mixture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Chill the dough 1 hour cover with plastic wrap so it doesn’t dry out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Roll out on a lightly floured surface to about ¼ inch thickness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Cut into desired shapes with a floured cookie cutter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Place on baking sheet. Brush lightly with cool water. Decorate with Candies and sugars.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Bake for 10 minutes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Makes 3 dozen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-47449088208403818882018-11-27T10:37:00.000-05:002018-11-27T10:37:17.148-05:00Think Thrice Before You Speak: How Social Media Made Me Nicer <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifPJS8pDTAeJ2g26bnUpadBwmlbsOTCEdRiPBk7MQB_V261QVxQlMMcdDWK42s94WxwqhpHaQb-51lmPW1PBcZQx00A50feBFWttNwfhTL26jLEilxN644aLLg6x7n9YFbKuI2-Ex-/s1600/gate-396701__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="511" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifPJS8pDTAeJ2g26bnUpadBwmlbsOTCEdRiPBk7MQB_V261QVxQlMMcdDWK42s94WxwqhpHaQb-51lmPW1PBcZQx00A50feBFWttNwfhTL26jLEilxN644aLLg6x7n9YFbKuI2-Ex-/s400/gate-396701__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">“Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">At the first gate, ask yourself “Is it true?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">At the second gate ask, “Is it necessary?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">At the third gate ask, “Is it kind?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">~ Rumi</span><span style="color: #333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Those who have known me the longest know I had no gates to contain my words for much of my life. My words just leapt out the door as soon as my mouth swung open and ran for the hills unencumbered by barriers of any kind. No locks were in place to slow the pace of my often reckless word choices<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The hurt and embarrassment they caused were not impeded. They just made a mad dash for the nearest pair of ears and drove their meaning both unintended and intended into the brain and heart of the people within reception distance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Many times, I tried to will those words to make a sharp left as I prayed for the sound waves to be absorbed into a nearby tree or bounce off a wall and ricochet back into my mouth where I could swallow them back down and save myself the embarrassment and others the pain they would surely cause.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sadly, acoustic science does not work like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Instead, I would inevitably have to face the consequences of my blabbermouth. My belief in always telling the truth no matter what was not as charming a quality as I had hoped. I thought honesty was the best policy. I still do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you want the truth, I’m your girl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The problem was that I felt compelled to blurt the truth even when a white lie would have been a wiser and kinder option. Even just silence or evasive tactics like changing the subject would have served me better. For some reason, the truth always erupted from my lips and that was that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Damage done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My truth-telling was more obvious than I thought. Many people who I had thought took little notice of me and what I said often characterized me as someone that <i>says it like it is.</i> Or, <i>she’s a straight shooter</i>. Or, <i>she’s not too shy to tell the truth</i>. Or, <i>she doesn’t hold back</i>. Or, <i>she has a strong personality</i>. Or, <i>she’s a bitch</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Let’s face it, all those other euphemisms were just nicer ways of saying the latter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The problem I had with that banal estimation was that I wasn’t a bitch. My words were never intended to hurt. They were meant to be kind. Truly. I believed being honest was the equivalent to kindness. I was not being mean or judgy like so many thought. That was me being nice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once I got my head out of my ass, I realized that my brand of thoughtfulness was never going to be perceived as kindness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I needed to make a change.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Strangely enough, social media has taught me to be kinder and gentler. It has taught me to stop and think before I speak and respond. This took a bit of time and few instances of getting it wrong, very wrong before I learned to the art of letting my words pass through three gates before I speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Tone and intent are lost</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="color: #a64d79;"> in the transmission</span></b>. How many times have you sent a text or an email with a sarcastic tone in your mind only to realize the jokiness intended got lost in the microwaves no airwaves, no phone line, no…oh heck whatever line transmits our typed words to other people’s devices?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Other People are Jerks</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">:</span> Nothing has taught me this more than the cruelty that is being spewed in the name of political affiliation across the land of Facebook and Twitter. The things people feel compelled to share and the way others respond to what they disagree with is sickening. Many times, I have read something a reacted by typing some angry response followed by backspace, backspace, backspace until it was erased. I’ll sit and seethe and breathe and then type something more level-headed and wise only to realize that fool has no interest in my sage approach. So, I hit backspace over and over until my thoughts are erased once again. I walk away and imagine all the witty or intellectual retorts I could leave and then decide it’s best left unsaid. I am not going to change anyone’s mind or personality with a few well thought out sentences.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">I want to have friends and family in my life and a job</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">. While I occasionally like or share something that is mildly political that others with my group of followers, I purposely keep my stronger beliefs and opinions to myself. This is very hard to do because I want to support and defend those I love who are being hurt by the political views and leanings and voting of others who I like. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have decided that I am not eloquent enough to be the voice that can make the strong arguments using factual information and the correct language needed. My rantings would sound more like inarticulate whining more than debate worthy knowledge presented in a professorial tone that I strive for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">If I allow my truth to flow from my fingertips, I will offend many more people</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"> </span>than I did when it spewed from my lips. I want to share information about the things I love on social media: my family, my books, my travels, my work, and what I eat because I eat some pretty damn tasty stuff. If I start ranting about my politics I will alienate those people I want to hold close. Just because we don’t agree politically doesn’t mean I want to lose them in my life. Well most of them. Some I just can’t handle their level of hate so I unfollow them, but the others I want to keep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Being employable for years to come is necessary</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">. I am only 49. I can’t risk making myself a pariah in the warm and fuzzy field in which I work. All I can say is as my retirement age gets closer, watch-out. I may just let the words fly again. That is if I have word finding ability at that age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So, for now, I have installed three gates. I will determine if what I have to say is true. I will then decide if sharing it is necessary. Finally, I will ask if it is kind. Once my words have passed through the three gates, I will type them and then ask the even more important questions, <i>is my spelling and grammar correct?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Little Less Talk and A Lot More Action</span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-48039285589759528082018-11-06T05:00:00.000-05:002018-11-06T05:36:56.559-05:00Falling Back: Time Change Torture<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1T_BBMb_CydIkAYAmYSnEkC76TU39hyphenhyphen6P88j8H5g0oaB2Ogz8RXhDjaqZ6hQG4ZoY5Y9YzgXkPrNxCmcSdGvrKx6yjrZ5G5I3KBve64PwWN2RB_mVoSMS1filO9yLveApAi98XI3W/s1600/wintertime-2896572__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="864" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1T_BBMb_CydIkAYAmYSnEkC76TU39hyphenhyphen6P88j8H5g0oaB2Ogz8RXhDjaqZ6hQG4ZoY5Y9YzgXkPrNxCmcSdGvrKx6yjrZ5G5I3KBve64PwWN2RB_mVoSMS1filO9yLveApAi98XI3W/s400/wintertime-2896572__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">Is it any wonder I've got </span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">Too much time on my hands?</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">It's ticking away with my sanity</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">I've got too much time on my hands</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">It's hard to believe such a calamity</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">I've got too much time on my hands</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">And it's ticking away</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">Ticking away from me</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">Too much time on my hands</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">Ticking away...</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">Too much time on my hands</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">I don't know what to do with myself...</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">Too much time on my hands~ Styx</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Who are these mythological creatures who get an extra hour of sleep when daylight savings ends? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Falling back” is the cutesy way that weathermen remind us to set our clocks back an hour every Autumn. This sleep-robbing annual event does not deserve this charming slogan for it wreaks havoc on the lives of every person forced to follow its stupid rule.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">These weathermen, in the Autumn of their lives, stand before green screens and show us clock hands sweeping backward on clock faces that have cartoonish smiley faces. The co-anchors and traffic reporters gush with joy as they claim they will get a whole extra hour of sleep on the weekend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I call BS on them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The only ones that get an extra hour of sleep are the sloth-like creatures who roam the halls of homes across America, teenagers. That’s right, the only ones who get more sleep are the ones who would have taken it whether or not the time changed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">These same weather people took my hour of sleep from me in the Spring when they forced me to, “Spring my clock forward,” another ridiculously happy slogan. If they just would have left the clock alone, the world would be a happier more rested place.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People blame the invention of daylight savings time on many different folks and ideas. Farmers and Ben Franklin are two common culprits. Sports and business operations might be to blame. I say, it doesn’t matter whether it is saving on candles or keeping money flowing by manipulating light hours to coincide with people shopping, stop messing with my sleep. Oh, and leave the farmers out of this, they hate it just as much as me. (Or is it “I”? I never know how to end a sentence with a pronoun)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As an insomniac, I rely on a steady sleep schedule to keep me sane.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even my poor dogs suffer from these biannual time shifts. They live on an internal clock that tells them when they need to wake up to pee, when everyone gets home from school and work, and most importantly when it’s dinner time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The sound of kibble filling their bowls is expected at 5:00 pm sharp. By 4:00 pm they start acting like fools in anticipation of their dinner. I am not sure what is so exciting about getting the same dry food day after day, but they seem super impatient to wolf it down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The old dog must pee at 6:00 am and receive her Milkbone biscuit immediately after or she will bark and howl and cry and scratch at the door until someone wakes to do her bidding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Like my dogs, I have always been equipped with the unwanted superpower of setting my internal clock. This can happen with just one unplanned wakening. If I have a cup of tea or water too many before bed, my weakening bladder will rouse me at 2:03 am to relieve the intolerable pressure and stop the dreams about drowning in a tidal wave. Then, for the end of time, I will wake at exactly 2:03 am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have not developed the superpower to undo this internal clock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">An Extra Hour Does Nothing for Me, </span>NOTHING</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My daughter made the observation on the day the time changed, "This day is moving so slow." Yes, dear daughter, it did, because we had an extra hour to fill. An extra hour to stay awake until you could slip off to bed without feeling like a toddler. An extra hour to need to eat. An extra hour to listen to your teens argue. An extra hour of darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Prior to the latest time change, I happily woke around 5:00 am. Guess what time I wake now…4:00am. Do you know what there is to do at 4:00 am…NOTHING.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Everyone is still sleeping so I can’t be a jerk and run on the treadmill. I have to wait until 5:00 am to be a running jerk. I can’t go outside for a walk because it’s cold and dark and probably raining because it is ALWAYS raining these days. I have no desire to watch TV until 7:00 am when GMA comes on. No one can watch 3 hours of local news waiting for GMA, that’s just agony. So, I wander around and do chores. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I am doing chores when I should be sleeping!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The flip-side of this “extra hour of sleep” means by 8:00 pm I have been awake for 16 hours and I am bone tired. I must sleep. My internal clock did not “Fall Back” like the weatherperson told it to. My internal clock is irreversibly set, remember. So, by eight o’clock I am trying to keep my eyes open. I give-in by 8:30 and fall into bed. I fall fast asleep until 2:03 am when I wake…wait is it 2:03? Did I switch my clock? Nooo, I can’t remember if I changed my clock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Anxiety from the uncertainty of whether it is 2:03 or 3:03 or 1:03 keeps me up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now my superpower kicks-in and from now until the end of time I will wake at 2:03 and never fall back to sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sorry if I sound a bit grumpy, but I am very tired!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Do sundials work? If the sun is directly in the center of the sky at noon and we change the time by an hour in the spring, is the sun directly in the center of the sky at 1:00 pm? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Also, if the powers-that-be decide to end daylight savings time forever (pretty please), does that mean that people born between March and November might have changes in their birthday? For example, if Sally was born at 12:01am on July 5th during daylight savings time and then daylight savings time ends she will have actually been born at 11:01 pm on July 4th, right?</span></div>
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<a href="https://mybrunettelifeasaredhead.blogspot.com/2016/12/merciless-massage-my-journey-to-cure.html" target="_blank">Merciless Massage: My Journey to Cure Insomnia</a></h3>
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<a href="https://mybrunettelifeasaredhead.blogspot.com/2016/11/subtracting-sheep-and-counting.html" target="_blank">Subtracting Sheep and Counting Blessings: Coping with Insomnia</a></h3>
lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-86967492703460383852018-10-24T20:59:00.001-04:002018-10-24T20:59:26.286-04:00I Can’t Stop Talking About The Whole Town is Talking<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Like most women from my time, I loved the movie Fried Green Tomatoes. I was astonished to learn that it was written by the comedic actress <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0280840/">Fannie Flagg</a>. I knew her from her antics on the <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0069608/">Match Game</a>. How could this same silly woman have written such an insightful and heart-wrenching novel?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then I forgot about her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One day I was perusing a used book sale and found another novel written by Fannie Flagg and I thought, “She wrote more than one book?” I paid my 50 cents and took the book home tucking into my need to read bookshelf. Years later I plucked it from the shelf and read it. I really enjoyed the book, though I cannot recall which of her many novels it was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I find myself turning to Flagg’s books over and over especially after reading a very heavy novel. Her light-hearted and whimsical books are the perfect anecdote for the gloom and doom of many of the historical fiction books I love to read.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After finishing Donna Tartt’s <u>The Goldfinch</u>, I desperately needed a Flagg novel to put me on an even keel. <u>The Whole Town is Talking</u>, Flagg’s most recent novel, called out to me from my library and I downloaded the MP3 audio version to my <a href="https://app.overdrive.com/">Overdrive</a> app. I spent the next week being cheerfully entertained my Flagg’s words read by Kimberly Farr.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">T</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">his novel which they say was inspired by Thornton Wilder’s </span><u style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Our Town</u><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">, with which I am not familiar, takes the reader on a generational journey as a small town in Missouri is made and then grown and then lost over generations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We follow a family of Swedish immigrants evolve as they inhabit a small farming community and build Elm Wood Springs from nothing. This town’s first major project was the cemetery. This cemetery becomes the heart and soul of the town as one by one the founders and then their descendants begin to fill the plots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Th</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">is is not a gloom and doom book. Each person lives a full life and dies when it is “their time” as Flagg’s characters insightfully suppose. In this town, ordinary people live</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> mostly ordinary lives. We get to know them and watch them grow and change and encounter day to day things. Somehow, Flagg is able to highlight unusual happenings, coincidences </span>and<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> quirky personalities to make this book charming and interesting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Elner, a good-hearted, animal loving, fig jam making farmers wife has many quirks. Her good-hearted friendliness means she welcomes all types to her farm. Lost travelers happen upon her land and she welcomes them all preparing them a hearty meal and sending them off with a jar of her jam made from her fig tree. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Unbeknownst to her, she fed Bonnie and Clyde breakfast when they got lost. Another time she entertained a future president and his wife. Both of these chance encounters weave there way into the storyline of this whimsical novel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Flagg leaves no twist unturned or loose end untied. Everything she writes eventually leads to something else. Even the cemetery built in the very beginning serves a major role in the lives of the Elmwood Springs residents. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I won’t’ give it all away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Flagg has a knack for making the ordinary fun and interesting. Her books are not dark and twisty. She even manages to make potentially bad things feel conventional. She keeps the overdone crisis to a minimum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">When I need a drama free, smart and funny book, I always turn to Flagg. She makes even the gloomiest of days seem sunny. I definitely need more sun</span>lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-36979168481260246372018-10-23T10:55:00.000-04:002018-10-23T10:55:08.926-04:00Why So Touchy? Thoughts on Sensory Processing Differences<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQnyVO47uZokjq6yGA4xPHfmT2bu8oqp1yILA15kGTL8VVNfTDeb1cfE3v8Y_QDDnJI1cT6jkxBztMU7Cq8G9jPA5ELM-L1eMUlNp4ytPFfQPZihjmz3d00-1Qi45JQ6z6LkTj2qN/s1600/michelangelo-71282__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="541" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQnyVO47uZokjq6yGA4xPHfmT2bu8oqp1yILA15kGTL8VVNfTDeb1cfE3v8Y_QDDnJI1cT6jkxBztMU7Cq8G9jPA5ELM-L1eMUlNp4ytPFfQPZihjmz3d00-1Qi45JQ6z6LkTj2qN/s400/michelangelo-71282__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other day a mother retold the story of how her toddler ate all the fur off of his stuffed dinosaur. It took everything in me to not vomit at the thought of this. In fact, just typing this is making my belly roil and I may have to excuse myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Years ago I used to use a stuffed dog puppet to help kids overcome sensory processing and feeding disorders. This dog had a slit in its throat which allowed it to "eat" cookies. The cookies were small squares made from a variety of textured fabrics. Every time I brought this toy out, I had to stifle my gags.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It wasn't lost on me that while I was trying to help kids overcome their sensory processing issues, I was strengthening my own aversions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Working with kids who suffer from severe sensory processing disorders has made me become more in tune with my own aversions. Realizing that I have trouble processing certain sensory information has strengthened my sense of self. Understanding what sets me off and why has helped me be a better mother and person. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knowing what tips my sensory scales allows me to avoid the triggers or at least explain why I am acting like a disorganized emotional fool.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">According to the<a href="https://www.spdstar.org/basic/understanding-sensory-processing-disorder" target="_blank"> STAR Institute</a>, <b>a sensory processing disorder</b> can be defined as: </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>A neurological disorder in which the sensory information that the individual perceives results in abnormal responses.</i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have yet to meet a person that does not have trouble processing some sensory information. Either our bodies under respond to sensations and we seek more information-think about those who eat spicy foods, shake their legs incessantly, or keep the volume up painfully loud- or those who become overwhelmed by sensation-think of those who don't like strong smells, eat bland food, or like the lights dim.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know people who gag at the texture of yogurt. I know people who freak out when styrofoam squeaks. Everyone has quirks and oddities.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's what makes the world an interesting place.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have discovered that beyond fur on stuffed animals-GAG-I have trouble regulating my mind and body when I encounter strong smells. The worst form of torture for me is Bath and Body Works. I can't even walk past the store without swooning from the scents and not in a good way.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Any store that has the word "Country" in it, I avoid as I know the stench of candles and herb encrusted crafts will make me insane in the brain. I never wear perfume or cologne because it overtakes all my ability to focus and attend to anything except the way I smell. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My husband bought me deodorant the other day and it was not scent free. I wore it for one day, two weeks ago, and I can still "smell" it on me. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I stay in a hotel room where someone smoked once, ever, I become nauseous, I get headaches and I can't sleep. Just ask my friend Sharon how our fun trip to Atlantic City was ruined by The Donald and his stupid hotel and the "smoke-free" rooms. Of all the heinous things he has said and done, that will be the thing for which I will never forgive him.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Loud noises make me crazy. Seriously, I get crazy and again, not in a good way. I cannot think or focus when things get loud. The irony is that my daughter has a sensory processing need for things to be very loud. As you can imagine that makes life in our house VERY challenging. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While she is pumping up the volume, I am cranking it down. Because she is rendered deaf by her blasting earbuds she can't hear me yelling to TURN IT DOWN!! I have to get loud for things to get quiet.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That lasts for about five seconds before her sensory needs compel her to turn it back up. The cycle is neverending until one of us gives up and leaves.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good times....</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Little kids can't express their sensory processing needs or aversions. Often times they act out and we adults interpret it as misbehaving. Kids do not have the language or the understanding of how the body works to know to avoid the things that set them off or make accommodations to get the input they crave.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If their bodies feel like they are floating in space because their sense of touch is low, they crash, hit, throw, destroy, bounce, flip, climb and all types of risky and possibly destructive behaviors. Adults who don't understand the underlying reason for these behaviors react when they should adapt.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are tons of resources available for parents who suspect their kids might have a sensory processing disorder. One of my favorites in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Out-Sync-Child-Recognizing-Processing/dp/0399531653/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1540305493&sr=8-1&keywords=the+out-of-sync+child" target="_blank">The Out-of-Sync Child by Carol Stock Kranowitz</a>. It's an easy to understand and follow guide on sensory processing disorders.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Perhaps you are an adult who has always wondered why you seem to struggle with day to day life when others seem to coast through their days without feeling out of sorts. You might have an undiagnosed sensory processing disorder. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Taking the time to understand the sensory system and how one that is not working well can disrupt your life is worth the time. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What are some things that set your senses off?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You Can't Touch This!!! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-70842850633682663832018-10-16T05:00:00.000-04:002018-10-16T06:25:39.930-04:00I Can't Drive Fifty-Five and Other Ways Law Abiding Citizens Break the Law<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I spend a lot of time in my car driving between houses, crossing counties and traversing unfamiliar towns. Sometimes I get confused by what the speed limit is, where the stoplights and stop signs are or where a school zone begins and ends. This causes inadvertent moments of breaking the law.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm not going to lie. I do speed. On purpose. Always.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't speed excessively. What I mean is, I speed just five to seven miles over the posted (or assumed) speed limit. I'm not crazy. I'm not looking to hurt anyone or get a ticket. I just feel the need for speed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Aside from this habitual divergence from the law, I follow the rules. I'm not a rebel without or with a cause. I am a good girl, I promise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My Catholic upbringing prevents me from being bad. The guilt would kill me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I can't help but wonder, what other laws or rules might be okay for me to break if I was feeling restless and disobedient? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have seen many others push the limits of the law without crossing the line into felonious acts. Perhaps I may have rashly committed one or more of these rulebreaking deeds. Just in case you also have the urge to be bad but are to goody-two-shoes to dive into the dark side, I have compiled a list of a few ways you can exercise your dark side without getting arrested (I hope).</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">Ten Laws To Break Without Breaching Your Moral Code</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1.<b> Eat grapes</b> from the bins in the produce section. I mean, they leave them sitting there in the wide open. Plus, the pesticides will poison you slightly so the punishment is built into the criminal act.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2. <b>Park at a store </b>right below the "Parking is for Customers Only" sign and don't patronize it. Also, use the bathroom. Oh you know you've done it too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3. <b>Turn left</b> at a stop light that won't change when no one else is on the road. Who has time to wait for imaginary traffic?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4. <b>Crossing the street, </b>while walking or running,<b> </b>against the red light. Keeping the heart rate up is crucial for cardiovascular health.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5. <b>Organic littering.</b> If that banana peel or apple core stays in the car all day its gonna stink, get slimy and attract bugs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">6. <b>Not pointing out the pricing error</b> or missed item when checking out at the store. You know they have overcharged you numerous times. It all comes out in the wash. Right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">7. <b>Nibbling on the food</b> from your dinner date's plate when he bought the "all you can eat" buffet and you didn't. It just smelled so tasty. You're only human.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">8. <b>Playing on the swings and slide </b>even though the sign says "Playground for Kids 12 and Under Only." A kid at heart should have a place to play too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">9. <b>Ripping tags </b>from mattresses and couches. I double dog dare anyone to arrest me for that... Well not really, I just hate big ugly tags.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">10. <b>Not cleaning up after your dog </b>when she pooped in the woods at the park. It's so hard to find. It's not your fault she was off the leash and wandered into the woods to do her business. What? Oh, right. The dogs are supposed to be on a leash at the park... I guess that's a double ding on the lawbreaking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Okay so maybe I have done all of these things. That doesn't make me a criminal. Does It? I'm not admitting to these things. I'm just saying it's a possibility</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Oh, come on Mr. or Mrs. judgy pants. You've done it too! Haven't you?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-76819077772028396372018-10-09T10:45:00.000-04:002018-10-09T10:45:40.001-04:00A Change Would Do Me Good: How Losing My Health Insurance May Improve My Life<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fall is a time for change. We get a brief glimpse of colorful beauty before the harsh reality of cold days and long nights settles in. Despite our resistance to the oncoming winter, we adjust. We adapt. We turn up the heat and dress in thick sweaters. We eat hearty foods and sleep longer. We make the best from what we can not change. In the end, we may even enjoy it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think we can all agree that most change is hard. I don't know too many people who welcome change. Even changing a hairstyle is fraught with indecision, and second-guessing, and stress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, change is part of life. When the school district moved the 6th graders from the elementary building to the middle school, parents across town were angry and concerned. After all the commentary and angry posts on social media, it turned out to be a better fit for those older kids who were tired of having to line up and march to the bathroom or lunchroom. By 6th grade, they were ready for some autonomy, some independence. The kids handled the change better than the adults</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes changes work out for the best. Sometimes they do not.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: small;">Some changes feel like a cyclone is wrecking our lives</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My most recent experience with forced change arrived with the blow that I a losing my health insurance. This is a very inconvenient and scary change. Losing my health insurance means that I will have to find and fund my health coverage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, I am scared and worried about so many things:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #741b47;">The money.</span></b> Will I be able to afford insurance?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><b>The coverage</b></span>. Will I be able to find insurance that will provide coverage for all the needs I have or will have in the future?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #741b47;">The search</span></b>. Where do I even begin?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #741b47;">The time</span></b>. I barely have enough time to get things done in my day. How will I find the time to find and secure health coverage before the month runs out?</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rather than allowing myself to become overly stressed and consumed with worry and anxiety, I am choosing to find the positives. Believe it or not, even in the most stressful and scariest of times,<b><span style="color: #741b47;"> we can choose to see the glass half full.</span></b> By gosh, I'm going to do that.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">3 Ways Losing Health Insurance Could Improve My Life</span></h3>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perhaps, I can<b><span style="color: #741b47;"> find an insurance plan that is a better fit</span></b> for me and my family. I currently have horrible health insurance. It costs a fortune and has a very high deductible and co-pay. I rarely visit the doctor because, in spite of having coverage, I still have to pay exorbitant amounts of money for tests and visits. Instead, I choose to diagnose and treat myself and use Urgent Care for emergencies. This is not the best way to maintain good health and the long-term repercussions could be many.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #741b47;">Learning to enjoy the little things in life</span></b>. This is a major change which will definitely impact our monthly income and spending choices. We will have almost no disposable income because of the expense of healthcare. By not being able to go and do as many things, we will have to return to a simpler way of life. We will be taking stock of what we have and adjusting our perspective about what makes for good leisure time activities. We just may have a better quality of life.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #741b47;">Making a career change</span></b>. One of the hardest things we adults have to decide is when or if it's time to switch jobs. It is scary to delve out into the unknown. We become comfortable and complacent in our careers. A new job means new coworkers, bosses, rules and job responsibilities. We underestimate our abilities to thrive in a new place of employment. <b>We can and will adapt</b>. Perhaps, we may even discover we like the new job better. New work might mean moving and becoming part of a new community which can lead to many great things. Maybe you will fail, but at least you tried. Sometimes a push like losing healthcare is the impetus we need to do what we are too afraid to do on our own.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am not happy about the change in status from covered to not covered. I am scared about the unknowns. I am not going to let this get me down. I will adjust and we will find a way to make this work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even Cheryl Crow thinks a change would do you good</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So as colder days and longer nights creep toward me, I will be embracing much change. I will take a cue from those 6th graders who adjusted and learned to appreciate their change. <b><span style="color: #741b47;">I believe even this change will do me good.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What life changes have you experienced that have made you better and stronger?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-75261847106827225982018-10-02T05:00:00.000-04:002018-10-02T06:05:01.890-04:00Regret It Then Forget It: Choosing to Live without Regrets<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">image plucked from //axtschmiede.com/regrets/</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Social media is a hotbed of misunderstandings. A while back I got into a war of words over the concept of living without regret. After responding to a family member who was feeling regretful for a bad decision, I attempted to show her some support by proposing this cousin let go of her regret and embrace the lessons she learned. Appalled and misunderstanding my intent, my uncle made his feelings known. His mistake was confusing regret with remorse.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is a difference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47;">Regret</span></b> is more about wishing you hadn’t done something and trying to avoid negative consequence for yourself. <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>Remorse</b></span> leads to deep sorrow, guilt and then a confession and apology. Remorse guides you to make amends for wrongs done. Regret just makes you feel bad about your self and wallow in self-pity<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have allowed myself to wallow in regrets. I saw a meme not long ago that said something like, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><i>Dear person, If I, in anyway, made you feel awkward or uncomfortable by what I said or did, just know I will think about it everyday for the next 50 years</i>. </span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That describes me to a T. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">At least the old me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ll admit that this older me does far fewer things that I might feel regretful about than the younger old me. The young me was nervous and unsure about everything. My low self-esteem made me awkward and stupid. I rarely took the time to think before I acted or spoke. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This made for many a faux pas that got me in hot water and even cost me some friendships.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sometimes my regrets morphed into remorse. More times than not it just made me sad and anxious and cost me precious sleep at night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When my actions were bad enough that I hurt another person, I immediately felt remorse. With remorse, I would undoubtedly apologize and try to make amends. With regrets, I just hid and hoped no one noticed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I regretted many things. Mostly little things that really had no impact on anyone or anything aside from my self-worth and self-confidence. Once I recognized that, I decided to take control. I decided to view regrets differently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rather than try to undo the minor infractions and punish myself for being human. I decided to <i>learn </i>from my mistakes. I even tried to laugh and my ignorance and innocence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Regret:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once I asked a guy I knew, who played in a Reggae band, “Are you packing your Jimmy Hat for the concert?” In my mind, a Jimmy Hat was a brightly colored knit cap that Rastafarians wore. I thought I was being clever and cute. He looked shocked and amused as he said, “I guess so, why?” Confused by the look he gave me, I realized I had made a major error. Later, I learned that a Jimmy Hat is not worn on the head, well not the one atop person’s neck anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not a Jimmy Hat</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I regretted this little error and let it eat away at me for years. Seriously, for years I would recall this incident and burn with embarrassment like it had just happened. What a waste of time and energy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This was not the only incident that resurfaced causing me to become full of anxiety and self-loathing. Like everyone else, I had hundreds maybe even thousands of things I had done or said since I was a kid that ate away at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In middle school, I fractured my ankle. I spent a few weeks on crutches and my classmates helped me lug my books up and down the steps as we changed classes. For picture day my mom bought me my first pair of heels. The day before picture day I was still using crutches. When I showed up to school wearing heels the next day, it did not go unnoticed. This was a regretful choice on my part and I have never done that since but neither have I broken a body part since, but I am sure I have learned from that mistake. Full disclosure: I never wear heels so there is that too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A few months later another girl was on crutches for a broken leg. None of us helped her carry her books up and down the steps. When she approached me and pointed out the injustice, I ignored her. (I have revealed in past blogs that I was a middle school asshole and this proves it). I grew remorseful about this and I hope I apologized but can’t remember. If you are reading this, I am so sorry Vicky N!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If I did not take control of my penchant for feeling regret daily, I would implode and end up in the loony bin. Now I regret saying looney bin. That has to be a term that is no longer sensitive. Oh crap. Now I feel remorseful for the people I have hurt by writing loony bin. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t write loony bin again. Starting...now!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">See, I have learned to turn my remorse into learning experiences and as an opportunity to improve myself, to become a better person. I decided to dust off my ego and realize that most people do not remember my day to day mistakes and have their own regrets to lament. They have no time to replay my minor infractions in basic acceptable behavior and judge me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wish I knew that years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Had I known this years ago, I would have slept more. I would have fewer wrinkles and smaller bags under my eyes. I would have put more energy into growing and learning and enjoying life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I still have a lot of years to live and I look forward to spending less time regretting and more time living in the moment. I choose to learn from my mistakes and learn new things like what a Jimmy Hat is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This is going to be a great new chapter because if I don't change I will end up in the madhouse. Is that better than loony bin? Oh crap! Okay, starting.....now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-52351991508519449232018-09-25T05:00:00.000-04:002018-09-25T05:00:02.684-04:00Big Choices Little Choices: Think for Yourself<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who knew that being able to make choices would continue to be so hard well into adulthood? I teach families of young kids to use choices for the purposes of teaching good speech and language skills as well as a way to help kids learn that making the right choice matters.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somehow, it never gets easier.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The choices we make never really changes except that the stakes are greater the older we get. Toddlers need to choose between what juice, book or movie they want. Adults have to choose between what job, spouse or home they want. At the core, a choice is a choice, but the repercussions of making the wrong choice are much bigger the bigger the person gets.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I recently vacationed with a good friend. We rarely see each other so I was a bit nervous about how we would get along and how we would decide what to do with our time. Would we want to do different things? We would argue, or worse, remain silent and seethe with resentment because we didn’t get to do what each person wanted to? Would we still be friends at the end of our time together?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How would two adults make the choices needed for our trip to be a success?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once we met at the airport, I Immediately remembered why we are such great friends for 28 years, we love to do the same things. It turned out that making choices was easy. We both wanted to hike easier terrain. We both wanted to read books, float in the pool, eat healthy food and drink wine. We both wanted to relax, not burnout on sightseeing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Choices smoices.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then we had to select a wine for dinner. I wanted an Oregon Pinot Noir she wanted a Napa Cabernet Sauvignon. I know. I know. First world problems. Snobby, elitist issues. But, as I said, a choice is a choice. In the end, we “compromised” and got the cab sav.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like choosing a wine, adults make many superficial silly, but very real daily choices. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What to eat for breakfast, lunch and<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> dinner</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which cereal to pick from the 1,000 on the shelf at the grocery store</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which dog food to buy</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which gas station to fill up<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> our cars</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which color nail polish to apply</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which TV show, movie or album to listen to</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which route to take to work</span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The list is endless. We make a gazillion little choices every single day. But even with these little decisions, if we make the wrong choice it can ruin our day. Take the wrong route to work, you could get stuck in traffic. Get the wrong dog food, your dog gets sick all over the carpet and then your late for work and have to pay for the rug cleaning dude. Buy the wrong gas, your car breaks down.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">hese small choices, if wrong, can make big problems</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Making choices is often influenced by many factors and we do not always have the same choices as our family, friends, neighbors or coworkers. Our choices are shaped by many factors like location, training, opportunity, health, education, fears and even by our sex and race.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You might want to buy the organic, grass-fed meat but you can only afford the processed mass-produced kind. You might want to purchase fresh fruits and veggies for your family but you live in a food desert and only fruit snacks are available in your corner store. You might want to go to Harvard and become a neurosurgeon but you have a D average in school and an intense fear of blood.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In those cases, the choices were shaped by inherent restrictions. Nevetheless, you can count on the need to make some choices that will be challenging to make and will have a lasting impact on your life<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Harder and more impactful choices are just as abundant but not needed as frequently.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which home to buy or rent</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which person to marry</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which job to apply<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> for and accept</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where to invest your money</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where to vacation</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which car to buy or lease</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which college to apply to and attend</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What to major in at college</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What family and household rules will you enforce with your kids</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whether or not to get a pet and what kind</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Choosing a Name for kids and pets</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Making decisions about health including doctor, procedures, shots, diet, exercise, etc…</span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The list of impactful decisions an adult has to make is as long and complicated as the simpler ones. Just when you think you have made them all, something new arises. You can never get away from making choices. All you can do is hope you make the right ones.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If a toddler picks the wrong shoes to wear on a rainy day, he’s got a parent nearby to help him find dry socks and slip on his rubber boots. Conversely, adults usually have to clean up their own messes and that usually means making more choices.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The best advice I can give is to think for yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-6280610224134178882018-09-11T05:00:00.000-04:002018-09-11T05:53:17.083-04:00Keeping a Marriage Afloat with Creative Dating<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br />By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">"Just a boy and a girl in a little canoe</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">And the moon shining all around,</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">He paddled his paddle so </span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">You couldn't even hear a sound,</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">And they talked and they talked</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">Till the moon grew dim,</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">He said you better kiss me</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">Or get out and swim</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">So what you gonna do in a little canoe</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">With the moon shinin' all a-</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">Boats floatin' all a-</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px;">Girls swimmin' all around."</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Remember those days when the love you had for your life partner was young and fresh? Remember when you were young and fresh? No? Well me neither.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Being together with the man I love for over 20 years has been wonderful, mostly. We had tons of fun when we were kid-free and carefree. We loved to go on adventures. Just get n the car and drive through the countryside looking for antique shops and bars. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We spent many a lazy Saturday afternoon shooting darts at the Coney Island, drinking beers and hanging out with the regulars and our friends. We spent so much time inside, that the sun would blind us we reentered the word, a little drunk but blissfully happy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Thursday nights, I would rush home from my night lecture on Educational Law, yawn, and join my man on the couch as we watched Must See TV including Friends and ER. We ate fresh tomato pizza and Caesar salad while drinking too much cheap wine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Oh, that’s how I gained all that weight. Hindsight is 20/20.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once we married, we tried to keep up our social and dating life. We attended parties, we joined a dart league, we went on vacations. But, the reality was, our dating life began to peter out. We bought a house that needed lots of updating. I found a career that required much of my time. Jim was traveling for work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our time apart became more than our time together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then we had kids. This meant that we had lots of time together, it just wasn’t the carefree, fun kind of togetherness we once shared. I am not saying kids can’t be fun. We do have lots of memories of having fun with our kids. It’s just that it’s not adulting kind of fun. If I am being honest, it’s more work than fun<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our kids came first, our jobs second, our home third, each other fourth and friends and family kind of just faded away<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Because we chose to live far from family, we did not have cheap and easy babysitting available to us. Paying for daycare stripped us of most of our disposable income. Finding time and money to date my husband became increasingly difficult. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In order to keep our relationship alive, we recognized the need to be creative so that we could have time alone doing the things that connected us in the first place. Now that the kids are more or less self-sufficient, sneaking in dates is much easier, but we still use many of these tricks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A trip to my hairdresser</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> can take an hour or two. This is the time that I enjoy away from home where I get to chit-chat with women and share funny stories. My hairdresser has a stocked bar, God bless her. On one occasion when the kids were being particularly difficult, my hubby came with me for my haircut. He sipped a martini while we laughed and commiserated with staff and clientele. Memories were made<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">2.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Doctor appointments</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> require much time in the waiting room. We have been known to hang out together keeping each other in stitches as we whisper about the other patients or the outdated articles in the periodicals strewn about the waiting room<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">3.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Early morning fishing trips. </span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We both love to be outdoors and fishing is a favorite hobby. When the kids are still asleep and the mist is still hanging on the lake, we sneak out and spend an hour or two paddling our kayaks and casting our rods. We will forever be competitive with who catches the most fish. Sadly, we rarely catch any. (do this only when the kids are old enough to be alone)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">4.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Grocery shopping.</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Nothing says love like thumping melons. No, actual melons. We slip out on Sunday mornings and visit the local grocery store taking our time perusing the produce and considering the sad seafood options. Sometimes we even look at the bouquets of flowers…so romantic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">5.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hiking.</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> It’s not often but on rare occasions, I can convince him the take a walk or a hike with me. I get my exercise while spending time catching-up with my hubby. It’s a win-win.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">6.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yard work.</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Without fail whenever the gardening gloves come out my kids disappear. Even if we work in silence, it's nice having him nearby as I weed and trim and dig and plant. Who else is going to haul away all the scraps?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">7.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sending the kids away.</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Whether they spend the night at a friend’s, visit family for a week or just go to church, finding time to be alone in the house is golden. We can eat what we want, watch what we want, nap, and just have peace and quiet for a bit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">8.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Football Sunday Browns vs Steelers </span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Though counterintuitive, the rivalry between our teams has brought us closer together. We get so riled up that our kids scatter as we cheer and jeer the teams. Jim cooks loads of football food. We day drink. We play darts. We taunt and razz each other. It is the best time ever!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">9.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Visiting with friends and family. </span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our kids usually have other kids to connect with at these gatherings. We have time to talk with friends and remember what it was like to have a social life. Though we may not spend time with each other, it is nice to get out and talk to other adults. Afterward, we touch base and share stories of our night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">10.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Back to school night </span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">and other school-based events. Nothing bonds a couple like being bored at school. Walking around the halls of a school, listening to teachers doing their best to make the classes they teach sound exciting, or suffering through school plays and concerts all spark the realization that you truly love your spouse. The torture of a school event forces you to appreciate the little things, even the things that annoy, about each other because anything is better than where you are at.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Early on in our relationship, we realized that we had to make accommodations to ensure that we survived the ups and downs of married life. There was a time when we could not get into a functional rhythm when we paddled our canoe. We were going in circles and barely containing our fury. It felt like our love was going to sink along with the boat we nearly crashed. Knowing that marriage is fragile and we had to be proactive to keep us afloat, we decided to put a motor on our canoe.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In every marriage, there will be times where you love and admire your spouse and times you want to strangle him or her. By making time and taking time to date, even if it is paddling side by side in kayaks because the motor let you down, then by golly do it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-79927342002567019392018-09-08T08:38:00.003-04:002018-09-08T08:55:22.887-04:00The Goldfinch: The Book I Wanted to Just Fly Away<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Goldfinch-Novel-Pulitzer-Prize-Fiction/dp/0316055433/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=&dpID=41zqDXuSQEL&preST=_SY291_BO1,204,203,200_QL40_&dpSrc=detail" target="_blank">The Goldfinch</a> is a book I loved and then hated. Before even opening the book, I was skeptical as the subject was not one that interested me. I had read about the author, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donna_Tartt" target="_blank">Donna Tartt</a>, in a magazine promoting one of her other novels. When I searched for the audio version of that book on my <a href="https://app.overdrive.com/" target="_blank">Overdrive app</a>, it was not available. Since <u>The Goldfinch</u> was, I decided to give it a listen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The book began by capturing my heart with the rich character development of Theo. The first-person storytelling allowed the reader to dive deep into the main character’s mind from the very beginning. The dialogues from Theo’s perspective were enhanced with the details and scenery he meticulously described. Tartt did a fantastic job of taking this story to another level which enticed and engaged me. I never remembered that the plot was uninteresting to me. I wanted to know the characters better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I spent the first half of the book becoming immersed in Theo’s tragic life and the tragic lives of all the people who he encountered. Then, slowly but steadily, all the tragedy became overwhelmingly gloomy and dark. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At some point, Tartt stopped telling a story and started painting a picture. The detail that I admired so much in the first half of the book became cumbersome and overdone in the second. Paragraph after paragraph, page after page were dedicated to illustrating the mood or the setting or the character's appearance. So much time was spent on describing, that I forgot what was happening with the story. I forgot what was happening with the characters. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even a simple dialogue exchange was lost in the middle of adjective after adjective after moody adjective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Because I was listening to and not reading the book, I did not have the luxury of flipping through the pages of description to find out how a sentence or thought ended. It was tedious and torturous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I stopped loving the book. I began dreading the book. I was over 400 pages in and wanted to know how the story resolved so I suffered sifting through all the fancy words and darkness to find the point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As I listened to Theo agonize through the bulk of his life, I wanted to be his cheerleader. I wanted to like him. I wanted to like someone, anyone in this book. Aside from his mentor and father figure Hobie, I found none of the people who touched Theo’s life likable. I despised them all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hour after hour, day after day listening to this laboriously long tale, I was overcome with the feelings of sadness and doom. These hopeless and helpless characters darkened my days. The fact that I refused to stop the audio feed and that I actually renewed the book from the library, says something. But, what? Am I glutton for punishment? Or, is the author so good that she convinced me that deep down I really loved this book?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I admire the literary depth and heft of this novel. The author did a phenomenal job comprising the prose to create the mood and foreshadowing. I truly felt like I was there with Theo and Boris, I just didn’t want to be there. I felt like I could see the art and the architecture. I felt sick and miserable all the times Theo did. I felt sad and lost and lonely. Even on the rare sunny days here, I felt dark and dismal as I drove listening to <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0686042/" target="_blank">David Pittu </a>narrate the story using his gift of acting to create distinct voices and accents for each miserable character in Theo’s life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I suppose for those of you who love an epic, well written, moody tale about how a person’s life can be permanently derailed by fate, </span><u style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Goldfinch</u><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> is for you. I understand why it won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction, it’s just not my cup of tea.</span></div>
lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-62242957583296193872018-09-04T07:13:00.000-04:002018-09-04T07:13:15.568-04:00Wishing for Not Waiting for Retirement<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I remember thinking college would never end. I loved being a college student but the six-plus years it took to get my hands on that diploma felt like forever. Then, almost suddenly, I had that degree and was faced with adulting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No more student loans to pay the bills. No more part-time jobs to fund the beer. I had to get a job. No, I had to get a career. I had to become a grown-up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In reality, this was not too hard because I started school late so I was nearly thirty by the time I had my credentials to be a real-life certified speech-language pathologist. Even my title sounded grown-up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By then I was married and buying my first house. I still live in my first house. I say it's my “first house” because I fully intend on owning a second house, though probably not simultaneously. <i>Speech-language pathologist</i> might sound fancy, but the pay does not live up to the title.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">"Why do I find myself counting the days until I retire?"</span></b></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I worked hard to create my career. I studied hard and shone in my academic life. I found work that satisfied me personally and professionally. I nearly tripled my meager starting salary in my two decades of diligent and good work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I reinvented myself from a treating therapist adding an educator, author and evaluator to my resume. I have been mentored by awesome cohorts and have mentored others in my field. I have made connections and friendships with amazing, intelligent and kind folks who have been my cheerleaders and support system.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The past two decades as a professional SLP have been extremely rewarding and satisfying. I consider myself blessed and lucky to have found work that makes me a better person and that I truly love<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I hesitate to say it, but I feel like I am good at my job. So, why do I find myself counting the days until I can retire? </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">When does that switch flip? At what point do we go from being career driven go-getters to daydreamers and schemers for permanent rest and relaxation?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">"Quicker than I imagined, I'm ready for the next phase."</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Wanting a career drove me through all those grueling years of college. After I walked down the aisle and crossed the stage with my gold and maroon summa cum laude sash draped over my black academic dress, the dean flipped the tassel on my mortarboard as he handed me my 100,000-dollar diploma. I was ready to tackle the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wanted to be a successful professional who made a difference in the world. I didn’t want to be rich, just comfortable. I wanted to have a nice home, a family and vacations in beautiful places. I achieved those things and twenty years later I’m looking forward to retirement<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Quicker than I imagined, I’m just ready for the next phase.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I don’t want to be older, I just want the benefits of being older before my body starts to fall apart more than it already has. With each creak and pop from my aging bones and ligaments, I hear a corresponding clock ticking. It used to be that career women were haunted by that biological clock ticking away. With more women having babies in their 40’s and even 50’s, I think the retirement clock looms larger and more ominous in the soundtrack of our lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">"I know the future is unpredictable."</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We are living longer which, I suppose, has benefits for some. For most, it’s not so great. We need to work longer to afford to live longer. Though science has made it possible for us to stay alive until we are 80, 90 or even 100 plus years old, what is the quality of that life?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I am witnessing the folks from mother’s generation navigate retirement. While many are having a grand time, most are spending their days off in doctor’s offices, hospitals and even worse, funeral homes. If they aren’t going to the doctor, they are taking a friend or family member to the doctor. They are burying their parents, friends and siblings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">T</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">o add insult to injury, these hardworking, money hoarding, intelligent people are trying to figure out how to pay for what their lousy government issued insurance doesn’t cover. Many have to decide what is more important: medicine for their ailments, food, mortgage, taxes, insurance, heat and the list goes on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s scary!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At the relatively young age of forty-nine, I am contemplating my life and my financial choices. I am writing this as I sit looking at a view from atop the peak in the Laurel Highlands. I am in awe of the vast landscape that travels all the way to Pittsburgh more than 60 miles away. This trip is a splurge. It is something that my logical mind knows I should not be doing because we have<i> things</i> to pay for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My realistic mind prevails as I know that the future is unpredictable. I have lived a hard life. I have not always taken care of myself. My future health will most likely not be good based on my choices and my love of wine and at one time my love of cigarettes. Though I live a pretty healthy life now, the damage is done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b>"I will allow myself these little indulgences..."</b></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have a job and so does my husband. Our decent living affords us to enjoy our now. I don’t have to wait for retirement to explore the world and indulge myself for a day and a night in a beautiful locale drinking mediocre wine as I watch the sunset over a city set in a valley far in the distance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Who knows when I will actually retire. I do know, if I wait until then to have fun and enjoy life, I’ll probably regret my missed opportunities as I try to lie still in an MRI tube or sit several times a month for hours in some doctor’s office waiting to be prescribed some pill I can’t afford.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I want to spend the last third of my life in my second house which will be on a lake in some artsy town with good food. I will relax on my deep porch or at my sunny window writing more essays or books as I watch the birds dive for the fish my husband is trying to catch from his boat in the early mornings. I will sip coffee in the morning as I watch the sunrise from our dock and red wine in the evening as it sets over our house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Until then I will allow myself these little indulgences and even bigger ones because I can. I will float in a pool nestled into the ground at a mountain inn after sunset while I sip wine and stargaze. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So yes barkeep, I will have another. Cheers!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-30443887579013108942018-08-28T05:00:00.000-04:002018-08-28T06:30:52.747-04:00The Death of Yes and the Rise of Ya<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_mYuz_D7WzSlbBhnz0vCiqpasu0VjeRVQ1DO1jLe4StI1lHH6xUXEf8LvAR6Lz2EVeRYXJYRO1m4YFHbXw9yio6JWnurjmPB_e7Kan8QctqXxKqQI8M-GuTZOlQ9fhKdMJX70x0r/s1600/like-1638737_960_720.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_mYuz_D7WzSlbBhnz0vCiqpasu0VjeRVQ1DO1jLe4StI1lHH6xUXEf8LvAR6Lz2EVeRYXJYRO1m4YFHbXw9yio6JWnurjmPB_e7Kan8QctqXxKqQI8M-GuTZOlQ9fhKdMJX70x0r/s400/like-1638737_960_720.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The average toddler hears the word <i>no</i> 350-400 times each and every day. It’s hardly surprising that <i>no</i> becomes one of his earliest and most used words. In contrast, a toddler hears the word <i>yes</i> almost never.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not hearing <i>yes</i> is not as much a function of toddlers never getting what they want. We all know most toddlers are indulged or spoiled. Not hearing <i>yes</i> is more a result of the fact that the people around them don’t actually say <i>yes</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The other a day a mom I was working with asked, “Why won’t my daughter say yes?” I have fielded this question many times over the years. At first, I did not have a good answer. Then, I started to pay attention. I listened to what others say when responding in the affirmative. I observed how children start talking just like the people they are around the most. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Toddlers not only pick-up the language in which they are immersed, they assimilate the accent, the slang and colloquialisms. They use the idioms and the gestures. In essence, they become mimics who sound just like mom and dad. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Watch what you say. Yeah you, Mr. Potty Mouth!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">With the numerous ways to indicate the affirmative, it’s hard to pick a favorite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "bodoni mt black" , serif; font-size: 24pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Ways to Say Yes</span><span style="color: #7030a0;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bodoni mt black" , serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">all right, very, well, of course, by all means, sure, certainly, absolutely, indeed, right, affirmative, agreed, roger, aye, yeah, yup, ya, uh-huh, okay, okey-dokey, okey-doke, yea, yep, yeppers, yay, you betcha, you know it, mm-hmm, yup.</span><span style="color: #7030a0;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For the less chatty of us, we can use nonverbal yesses like a smile, a head nod, the okay sign, a wink or a thumbs up to indicate our agreement. We even have emojis on our devices to indicate <i>yes</i> so, we’re not even typing that word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A Little History on the Origin of <i>Yes</i></span></span></b></h3>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">1.<span style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->yes (adv.) </span><o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Old English gise, gese "so be it!," probably from gea, ge "so" (see yea) + si "be it!," from Proto-Germanic *sijai-, from PIE *si-, optative stem of root *es- "to be." Originally stronger than simple yea. Used in Shakespeare mainly as an answer to negative questions. As a noun from 1712. Yes-man is first recorded 1912, American English.</span><o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><i>Yea</i>, circa 1000<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><i>Yes</i>, circa 1000<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><i>Yep</i>, 1891 (first appeared as a quotation in <i>Harper's Magazine</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><i>Yeah</i>, 1905 (first described in <i>Dialect Notes</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><i>Yup</i>, 1906 (first appeared as a quotation in <i>Century Magazine</i>)</span><o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We live in a culture and a time when we feel the need to shorten or abbreviate everything. We need instant access. We buy pre-portioned meal kits. We have next day or even same day shipping. We cook in <a href="https://instantpot.com/" target="_blank">instant pots</a>. We have high-speed internet. Our speed limits are increasing to 70 mph or faster. We don’t even have time to swipe a credit card. We tap it or use Apple pay instead. You name it there is a faster way to do it. I even read the average person is walking faster. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We are busier than ever. There is stuff to be done. We don’t have time to say <i>yes</i> when a <i>ya</i> will do! That is one less consonant we need to produce. In the course of a lifetime, think of the minutes we will save by simply changing our yesses to yas. Think of how much ink and paper we will save. Our thumbs will last a little longer with typing one less character in our texts. This small change could potentially save millions of dollars in thumb related medical costs alone!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I say we stop trying to shame toddlers into saying <i>yes</i>. I say we embrace the change and move forward knowing that we are making the world a better place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Goodbye<i> yes </i>and hello <i>ya</i> or <i>uh-huh</i> or <i>mm-hmm.</i> Even better, hello to the thumbs-up. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">B</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">y adopting the thumbs-up we are stretching our fatigued thumbs, exercising them to make them stronger for our next batch of snarky responses on Twitter.</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Hlk523134081"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even Laurie B can't stop saying<i> Ya</i> in her <i>Yes</i> video</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Sources 1. https://www.etymonline.com/word/yes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> 2. https://www.visualthesaurus.com/cm/wc/from-yea-and-yes-to-yeah-and-yup/<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-24387465174412960902018-08-21T05:00:00.000-04:002018-08-21T07:14:43.153-04:00I Want to be Lonesome Tonight: Finding Alone Time in My Unlonely World<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Being a loner who lives with three other people makes life interesting. I don’t want to be alone as much as I want to be left alone. I like knowing they are nearby. I find comfort in their love and even their company from time to time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The problem lies in how to tell them to go away without seeming like an uncaring, jerk.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was a loner as a kid. I spent hours in my room playing alone, watching TV, organizing my things, reading and just hanging out. I had just a few friends and that was fine. I have never been one to want or need dozens of friends. I don’t want or need to have someone to talk to or hang out with 24/7. Give me some Thai takeout, a bottle of wine and a good movie and I am in heaven.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Fortunately, my kids and husband are also happy on their own. I won’t claim they are loners like me, but they don’t push to be together all the time. My husband darts off to camp for a night or two or goes fishing in the local streams. My youngest daughter puts on headphones and dances the day away oblivious to what others say or do, slowly making herself deaf with the ear-piercing volume of her music. (Yes, I tell her constantly to turn it down to no avail.) My other daughter shuts herself in her room and, well I am not sure what she does but it involves lots of texting and selfies. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We eat dinner together most nights and share about our daily lives. Then we disperse to our different areas doing the things we like best, alone. I institute mandatory movie nights or game nights at least once a month. My youngest loves to create family time with games she makes up or dance parties or shows she puts on for us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We like each other. We have fun together. We just like to be separate too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When things get overly stressful and being alone in a different part of the house is not enough, I get away. Unlike my husband, I don’t have a camp in the woods waiting for me. This means I have to get creative.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Ways I Get Away</span></span></h2>
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<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #a64d79;">Go for long walks</span></b>. I love my early morning strolls around the neighborhood or finding a park to hike around.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #a64d79;">Send my husband away</span></b> with the kids to visit family or do something, anything, someplace else</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #a64d79;">Rent a small house </span></b>for a few days and nights where I will read, sleep, write, kayak and watch silly romantic comedies.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><b>Drive someplace</b></span> and listen to audiobooks or podcast</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #a64d79;">Go shopping</span></b> for a few hours.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><b>Spend time at a coffee shop</b></span> writing and reading and people watching</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><b>Go to the movies</b></span> alone. Sit where I want. Eat all the candy and the popcorn without that gross butter topping.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><b>Send myself on a work conference</b></span> and not tell any coworkers I’m going.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><b>Sneak into a hotel pool</b></span> for the day and sip a cocktail, read and listen to other people's conversations.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-weight: bold;">Go Kayaking </span><span style="background-color: white;">on a quiet calm lake while sipping coffee and listening to the birds sing and the wind rustles the trees.</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These moments alone are rejuvenating and healing. I get time to focus on nothing or on exactly what I want. Nobody is arguing or whining, at least no one I care about. No one is talking to me when I am trying to write or think or read. No none is asking me to do things for them. I am not tempted to clean or work or do anything I do not want to.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My alone time also reminds me how much I love my family. After a few hours, I miss them and their loudness and neediness. It allows me to return to them fully wanting to be there with them, at least until they start whining and arguing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Those first thirty seconds back home after my respite are the best ever.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-33435854737376936982018-08-14T05:00:00.000-04:002018-08-14T07:14:51.336-04:00A Door’s Not Just a Door: Noticing the World<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hey mom that door is pretty cool,” she shouted from the backseat where she insists on riding like I am her chauffeur. <i>My </i>daughter noticed doors. I stifled a sob of joy. Doors? you ask. Why would noticing doors make me happy-cry? Why do I care?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When I was a young girl, every year my sweet, kind and brilliant <a href="https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/name/robert-redhead-obituary?pid=162522628&page=2" target="_blank"><span style="color: #741b47;">Uncle Bob,</span></a> on break from teaching French at the University of Minnesota, would leave the Twin Cities and come home to Cleveland to spend a week with us. His visits were always fun despite the amount of cleaning we had to embark on prior to his arrival due to his dust allergy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Uncle Bob wasn’t loud and gregarious like my mother’s brothers. He never tickled me until I peed my pants, gave me sloppy kisses, yanked my underwear into a painful wedgey or made raspberries on my belly, feet, back or any other available body part like my crazy uncles. I appreciated his quiet dignity and his sweet adoration of his only nieces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Uncle Bob always involved us something educational. He never forced his knowledge on us. He was a genius at sneaking in information. On walks in the architecturally rich streets of Cleveland Heights, he would point out features on homes. He would show us artworks and use big words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">n fact, I never knew how much he had taught me in those years when he visited while I was old enough to understand and young enough to listen. It wasn’t until a decade or two later when I sat in an art history class looking at slides listening to the professor, that I realized all I had learned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As we viewed slide after slide of <a href="http://www.oldhouses.com/styleguide" target="_blank"><span style="color: #741b47;">architectural details</span></a>, I became awash with my past. I felt like I was standing next to Uncle Bob as he pointed out dentals, balustrades, gabled roofs, Tudor style versus Colonial style homes, columns that were Doric, Ionic, or Corinthian and many more intricacies that made each home unique. I knew all of this stuff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Going to college had been the scariest undertaking of my life at that point. Taking this class early on in my college career and feeling like I knew something the other students didn’t, gave me confidence that stuck with me all through my graduate studies years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once I became a parent, I vowed to expose my children to all there was to see. I wanted them to appreciate art, nature, architecture, everything. My childhood had been a rich one for all of my senses. Having a multitude of life experiences provided me with the knowledge that has made my life better. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wanted that for my kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Over the years I have taken them to parks on hikes; art, history and science museums; different cities and towns; to oceans, rivers and lakes; zoos, aquariums and botanical gardens; concerts and plays; unique restaurants in many cities and countries. I have spent countless hours and dollars to make their young lives rich with experiences.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I want to say it was worth all the blood sweat and tears. I really do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Hikes and walks</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> resulted in complaints about being tired or hungry. Whines of <i>my legs hurt, a bug bit me, this is boring, when is this going to be over</i> filled the space between me and all the flora and fauna I tried to enjoy. As I pointed out birds and ferns they point out I was horrible for making them do this. Then someone fell and bled and we struggled back to the car sweaty, thirsty and grumpy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Visits to museums</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;"> </span>were tolerated only if we went to the gift shop first and last. Plus, a trip to the café had to occur within the first thirty minutes. I’d walk around glancing at brightly painted landscapes as they bickered. I’d try to talk about Impressionism vs Realism, Abstract contemporary art vs Renaissance art, and the fun works with elements of Trompe-l’oeil. I shooed them away when they got too close to the million-dollar sculptures or reach to touch the paintings. I tolerated their whines about being bored and hungry even though we just ate. I bought them a twenty-dollar pencil or postcard that I knew would end up lost and forgotten in the bottom of some drawer or bin, and we’d leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Trips to the zoo</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;"> </span>were just expensive journeys to a playground. We’d walk in search of hiding, shy animals. After seeing the ear of an elephant and a sleeping tiger we’d go to the primate house and try not to gag at the smell and the flying feces. We’d run screaming through the reptile house terrified by the snakes and prehistoric looking creatures. Then, we’d spend the rest of the day on the slides and swings eating overpriced fried food. Inevitably one would exclaim, <i>I’m bored. Can we go home?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Time by the water</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> was fun when the girls were young. They would swim, splash, boogie board, search for rocks, shells and sea glass. Now, it is all about what snacks I brought, selfies and complaining about being <i>too hot</i> or <i>I’m bored.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Concerts, movies and plays,</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> when they were young, were torture. We made so many trips to the bathroom, I never knew what was happening. Since no snacks were allowed in some venues, there was nothing to shove in their gullets to stop them from bickering and complaining, <i>I’m bored is this over yet. I’m hungry.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Long drives</span> </span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">across the country involved me shouting at them over the music they fed directly into their brains via earbuds to look at all the sites just outside their windows. I pointed out landscapes, skyscapes, buildings, animals, airplanes, cars, anything to get them to appreciate the world around them. They would pull out one earbud, take a glance to appease me and then return to their glazed-over state of oblivion. Of course, they bickered and annoyed one another. Occasionally, I would fill with hope when one would call my name from the backseat. Ready to look at what they found interesting they would whine, <i>I’m bored. Is there anything to eat?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Dining out </span></span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">was and is a favorite activity<b> </b>for all. We all love food. But, even this results in arguments. <i>No, you can’ have pasta with cheesy bread and a side of fries. Yes, you have to have something green. No, you can’t have five sodas and dessert. Yes, you have to try something new. No, I’m not ready to leave. I don’t care if you’re bored. </i>Upon returning home, they would inevitably ask, <i>what is there to eat for snack?</i><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Obviously, my kids found my goal to educate and entertain them mind-numbing, the opposite effect I was striving for. Plus, all of our outings rendered them famished. Aside from boring and starving them, I hoped my efforts would have had a bigger impact in their long-term.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just when I was beginning to believe I failed, while on that drive, my daughter pointed out how every door on the houses in our town differ. She observed that some are pretty and interesting while some are just plain. Elaborating on her observation, I pointed out how a front-door can communicate so much about the people who live behind that door. A door can be welcoming, whimsical, or foreboding. I expounded on architectural details. It was a short talk, but she listened. She was interested or at least feigned interest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She didn’t even ask for a snack. Uncle Bob would be proud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-16853556246827298382018-08-07T09:01:00.001-04:002018-08-07T09:01:52.946-04:00Morning Musings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr20LKQB8FC4goWVw1dFID2zk4PwTc6X3l4AWjqAvj7TL5n1rcm-_TY9YciQx6Scr092h7ESCLcLpvmcLu-hGBVj7JEEFfUBaAQB2Mgmbhj6ebAz-DSymHW-IhyAF9njg02grWv3iz/s1600/window-1148929__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="511" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr20LKQB8FC4goWVw1dFID2zk4PwTc6X3l4AWjqAvj7TL5n1rcm-_TY9YciQx6Scr092h7ESCLcLpvmcLu-hGBVj7JEEFfUBaAQB2Mgmbhj6ebAz-DSymHW-IhyAF9njg02grWv3iz/s400/window-1148929__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Morning is my favorite time of day. By morning, I mean <i>early</i> morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ideally, I wake at 5:00 am. This is the time of day when everything is still. Everything is quiet. The family is resting peacefully, dreaming about whatever their crazy minds dream about. Even the dogs are still asleep. As they grunt and kick and whine through their dreams of chasing bunnies or getting treats, I start my day</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I slip from bed and tiptoe downstairs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some mornings I pull on my walking clothes and go for a walk. In the past, I spent an hour breathing deep and doing yoga poses in the dark living room the only light was the yellow glow the streamed in from the still lit street lights.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I might sit at my computer and write. My thoughts free to flow with no one vying for my attention and asking me questions they already know the answer to. I don't have to struggle to remember what I want to write while the kids argue or the dogs bark. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love the silence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On warm days I open the windows and curtains and listen to the birds sing their morning songs. I watch the bunnies wake and nibble on the dew covered clover. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On my walks, I breathe deep taking in the fresh morning air. No cars interrupt my reverie. I encounter no other people at that early hour. I catch deer unaware as they nibble crabapples from the tree near the train tracks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On my way back from my walk, I start to hear my neighbors stir. Scents of coffee waft from their open windows. Babies giggle as they presumably snuggle with mom and dad in bed. A few cars pull out of driveways, their sleepy-eyed occupants preparing for the long commute to work or the early shift at the hospital.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some mornings I can catch the moon before it fades away in the brightening day. I watch the sun emerge from the horizon giving off a milky glow in the clouds. Some mornings that glow transforms into brilliant hues of orange, pink and purple streaking the sky with so much beauty it takes my breath.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back home from my walk, I reluctantly brew my first cup of coffee knowing its fragrance will cause the others to stir, ending my silent and peaceful morning. The need for the rich sweet elixir that is my coffee overrules my need for peace and quiet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some mornings I spend tidying-up. I sweep, mop and dust making my home fresh and clean. The act of cleaning and the resulting sparkling house is invigorating. When my house shines I feel motivated to do more. It makes me happy and strangely calm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Other mornings I cook. I make pancakes from scratch. Whip up hummus. I simmer soup, stock or spaghetti sauce. I bake banana bread. I peruse cookbooks for ideas. I think up creative ways to use what is in the fridge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I might snuggle up with a novel and read for an hour in the early morning. I might surf the internet looking for vacation homes or searching for that lake house I want to own someday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes I just sit and think. I sit on my patio or I look out the window at the blossoming day and let my mind wander</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I make lists and plan. I prepare for work. I pack lunches. I watch TV. I listen to whatever music I like.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mornings are mine. When I have a quiet morning alone, I have a better day. It prepares me for whatever life will throw at me when the rest of the world wakes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love my early mornings</span><br />
<br />lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-45397957279081645562018-07-31T07:52:00.001-04:002018-07-31T18:10:23.997-04:00Someone's Knockin' at the Door, Somebody's Fallin' Off the Porch<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNBXppw1Ep7wAkNA4eVAjjcJ-pSDabYwPBBVNhT3FqD8swDmRgblcBGAJzF65J_2N5aacxLD8sWaj1VCvb9dmiRmepfji6k3TsmeoMEyz3RdmSK9tlsjOC6U5M5lgxXUv5rEBv0-F/s1600/kids+play.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="430" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNBXppw1Ep7wAkNA4eVAjjcJ-pSDabYwPBBVNhT3FqD8swDmRgblcBGAJzF65J_2N5aacxLD8sWaj1VCvb9dmiRmepfji6k3TsmeoMEyz3RdmSK9tlsjOC6U5M5lgxXUv5rEBv0-F/s400/kids+play.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When my new neighbor appeared on my front porch and peeked in through the screen door, my hopes were raised. We had met briefly when he moved in with his wife and dogs a few weeks earlier, but we had not had time to get to know them. I walked to the door with a smile and greeted him with a cheerful, “Hi Brett.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As soon as I smelled him, I knew this was not going to turn out well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I grew up in a close-knit community with awesome neighbors. The three-story houses that we all called home were nestled behind deep grassy front lawns along the tree-lined street secreting elaborate backyards which were adorned with gardens, swing sets, treehouses and basketball hoops. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Kids spilled out from the homes onto the street chasing each other in games of tag or racing bikes along the sidewalks. Most of my childhood days were spent outside running around and through all the yards of our eclectic neighbors alongside all the kids I considered my friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In poor weather we hung-out indoors writing and producing plays that we put on for the neighbors, selling tickets to all who would hand over the 25-cent admission. We had sleepovers and shared meals. We visited the older folks listening to stories while we gawked at all their bric-a-brac and sucking on the hard candies they gave us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We had epic block parties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Those parties were the times when all the families gathered and talked, shared drinks, ate potluck style, and square danced in the twilight of those annual summer evenings. Before we do-si-doed and swung our partners round and round, the artists mingled with the blue and white collared workers that inhabited the pretty homes on our block. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The kids decorated bikes with tissue paper and raced up and down the middle of the street. The barriers that blockaded our street freed us from the confines of the sidewalks. It was an amazing feeling to speed down the center of the street that was forbidden the other 364 days a year. Our bikes rode smoother and faster on the open road. The air rushing through our unhelmeted heads was cooler. We were cooler.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">These times and people made the less happy parts of my childhood bearable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wanted my kids to have the same happy experiences. I wanted them to find a community of friends and adults whom they could trust. I wanted to hear their laughs and screams of fun radiating off of the houses up and down the street. I wanted to ply the other kids with Kool-Aid and homemade chocolate chip cookies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When it was time to buy a house, I purposefully picked a home on a street where the houses were close with the grassy yards intersected so my kids could run through the neighborhood with the other kids under the protective eye of all the families on the street. I wanted to have annual block parties and recreate the happy times I had for them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">T</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">hings did not work out as I had envisioned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Though several neighbors have kids who played with my kids, the reality is that times have changed, drastically. Most kids are too busy with extracurricular activities to play outside in the deep backyards until their parents call for them to come in for dinner or baths and bedtime. Most parents are too protective to let their kids roam freely fearing the worst. Most adults are too busy to form trusting relationships with their neighbors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Whether its sports or school work or video games, kids do not spend endless hours riding bikes and playing tag up and down the street. Every once in a while, a neighbor kid would come over for a smore or splash in the sprinkler. Sometimes we would have kids over to catch fireflies or wave sparklers in the warm summer evenings. Occasionally, my kids and the neighbor kids would build a snowman together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mostly, there was silence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Kids didn’t roam the neighborhood. In fact, when I did hear kids outside, I wondered what mischief they were up to. “What are those hooligans doing out on the sidewalk in front of my house,” I’d ask myself. I felt like old Mr. Wilson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We did become close with a few neighbors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We have had parties and barbecues with neighbors. We watch football games together. We've celebrated holidays together whether it is a turkey on Thanksgiving or viewing fireworks from our roof on the 4<sup>th</sup> of July. We watch each other’s kids and dogs. We look out for each other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A few have stayed for the long haul, but most have moved on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I suppose all good things must come to an end. Now that my girls are teens, they are not looking for playmates in the neighborhood. They just want rides to their friends’ homes who live on the other side of town. While they may not mourn the loss of good neighbors, I sure do. I miss having those spur of the moment adult interactions like sipping wine on the patio as we share funny stories about our day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Losing our next-door neighbors created a void in our lives we have been waiting to fill. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">When the first set of replacement neighbors started to unload their things, we rushed over and enthusiastically welcomed them to the neighborhood. The woman told us she was a single mom of a teen boy who was staying in another town for the first two months.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We anxiously awaited the arrival of this presumably nice boy who might be convinced to cut our grass or walk our dogs when we left town for vacation. Needless to say, when he appeared with his pants slung below his butt and his cap askew his bowed head covering his eyes, he strode into the house with an arrogance of complete disrespect for all other humans, our hopes were dashed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This 16-year-old father of two was just released from juvie. Having received his High School certificate while behind bars he had nothing to do all day but lay around, play video games, sell and smoke weed (and who knows what else) and sneak in and out of the house with his friends at all hours off the day and night. We installed curtains and cameras and prayed for them to move out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The day they left, our new neighbors moved in. Hurray!! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This new neighbor stood before me on our front porch. As my nostrils burned from his aroma, I noticed his drooping eyelids and bloodshot eyes. I watched him sway and try to steady himself by leaning on the porch swing. He slurred something about wanting to invite us to have a beer or go to bed. I hoped it was the beer. As it was just noon, I graciously declined and suggested he may have had his fill of beer and that he might want to take a break. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He disagreed a left in search of that beer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He reappeared an hour later even more intoxicated. It took him a good three minutes to make it up the four steps to our front door. Once swaying in place in front of our screen door, he proposed the beer idea to my husband. Feeling that is was not a good idea, my husband suggested they talk about it in the driveway. The neighbor turned to leave, tripped over his own feet and took a header off our porch, plummeting three feet below knocking his shoe from his foot which landed a good ten feet from where he sat dumbfounded.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It took him considerably less time to go down than up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The cops gave him the ultimatum, “You can go to the hospital or you can go to jail. Your choice,” I realized any chance of having a good relationship with our new neighbors vanished with the ambulance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">At least I have the neighbors on the other side to commiserate with. We share texts and laughs about all the goings on in our little hamlet. I’m sure one of us will move eventually. Until then we will talk through the fence and enjoy the occasional drink fireside while our tweens and teens embrace their inner child and catch lightning bugs and play spud in the evening light.</span><br />
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-39174505452258810572018-07-24T08:13:00.000-04:002018-07-24T10:49:33.016-04:00The Inn Keeper Who Wore No Pants: Why We Choose B&B’s<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Elizabeth Redhead Kriston<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0wWuYN5Onv4GuIdolKi2_L9pB0_nbCXZLJyxhe61cXex-y5D-Zo7atDM98zU8l-wc-2FLi8GSSde94ERus2h93_8hwdq-18vuJ3E-Arse6rM9-iRej4QcpCIopbmTmW1k1AtB3Nn/s1600/house-2199806__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="509" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0wWuYN5Onv4GuIdolKi2_L9pB0_nbCXZLJyxhe61cXex-y5D-Zo7atDM98zU8l-wc-2FLi8GSSde94ERus2h93_8hwdq-18vuJ3E-Arse6rM9-iRej4QcpCIopbmTmW1k1AtB3Nn/s400/house-2199806__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Have you ever entered a hotel lobby only to be greeted by the front desk agent in his underwear? No? Well, then you must reconsider the places you stay when you travel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Before we were married, my husband and I started traveling together. Our first trip was a long week driving to Maine. We meandered up the never-ending majestic coast. The vistas were spectacular. The lobster shacks became a second home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Aside from driving and eating our way up the coast, we decided to go without a plan. We thought it would be a fun adventure to find places to stop and stay along the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The first place we stayed, a colonial inn situated in a small, quaint town on the rocky coast was quintessentially beautiful. The cheerful, fully dressed desk agent assigned us to a small attic room with sloping ceilings, hardwood floors covered with oval rag rugs and a teeny attached bathroom that contained a tiny clawfoot tub/shower and a pedal stool sink. The room was appointed with a giant antique four-poster bed which took up almost the entire room and required a step stool to enter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was perfect. It was romantic. It was cheap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The innkeepers were kind and helpful. They directed us to good restaurants and even gave us grass mats we could spread on the small local beach as we soaked in the waning late August Maine sunshine. The barkeep in the rustic basement bar, in his thick New England accent, regaled us with hilarious anecdotes and directed us to places up the coast we should see, including the best lobster shacks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The intimacy of this inn charmed us. Being able to talk with and share stories with amiable locals made the trip so much better than if we had lodged at some chain hotel on the highway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We felt like close friends to these strangers by the time we left. We launched out on the remainder of our journey armed with inside information and a better understanding of what it was like to be a Mainer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After that experience, we decided to stay in Inns and B&B’s whenever possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Over the last 24 years, we have found quaint places to rest our heads and feed our bellies and souls in towns like Geneva on the Lake, Ohio; Napa Valley, California; Harpers Ferry, West Virginia; Ithaca, New York and more. All of these Inns offered unique experiences and many funny memories for Jim and me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We learned lessons about life and different cultures like just put just a few drops of bubble liquid in a hot tub. If you forget, open all the doors and windows and scoop the mountain of bubbles out as fast as possible. Don’t sit in a hot tub while the wood fire place blazes especially after consuming lots of red wine. The drowsiness you experience is definitely a drowning hazard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Simpler lessons were learned like, whipping cream cheese into eggs makes the most delicious scrambled eggs. However, not everyone who owns a B&B can actually cook tasty food. Mostly, we learned to sleep-in since breakfast isn’t until 9:00am. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We have met fellow travelers from all over the world. So many interesting people have entered our lives over croissants, fruit salad and French toast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Alas, not all people who stay at or own small inns and B&B’s are nice or even sane, but that’s okay. It just creates more interesting stories and experiences. It makes each trip unique and special, like our most recent adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jim and I decided to use those dusty passports and travel “abroad.” That’s right, we journeyed all the way to Canada. Not just Canada but French Canada, Quebec. We wanted to experience a taste of Europe with a shorter plane trip. We landed in Montreal with dreams of experiencing French culture including delicious food. To make this dream a reality, we booked a room in a small inn in the heart of Montreal run by a French pastry chef.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ken, before we arrived, was enthusiastic, responsive and accommodating via his email exchanges with Jim. He promised a comfortable stay in his lovely inn. He ensured that any and all dietary restrictions would be handled. He promised to get us to where we needed to be. He suggested restaurants and provided ideas for things to do and see on our long weekend stay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Most importantly, he assured us that he would be happy to let us stop by early on our first day to drop our bags before we ventured out to explore his beautiful city of Montreal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Perhaps the fact that he knew we would be arriving late morning that day was what made that first contact so confounding and concerning, or maybe not. Peeking around a slightly ajar door, Ken greeted us with a look of surprise on his face. “You're early”,” he bellowed as if this was news to him. “Hold on. I’ll be right back,” he blurted before slamming the door in our faces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A minute later he returned and opened the door wide exclaiming, “Welcome! I’m in my boxers.” Having not slept the night before and after traveling for seven hours, we were a bit punchy. Glancing at Jim, I communicated through my bloodshot eyes, “Did he just say he was in his underpants?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The question was and continues to be, <i>what did he need to attend to when he disappeared back into his home after the initial greeting that did not involve pulling on some trousers?</i> Was he naked and put on his boxers? Did he take his pants off? What was more important than dressing so he could greet his out-of-town guests who were strangers?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After three days, the answer became apparent. Ken preferred not to don pants. He not only greeted guests in his skivvies but he liked to cook breakfast in his undies. Yes, he wore an apron and a shirt, just not pants. Canadian health codes must be lax. Or, maybe all chefs prepare meals sans pants.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ken’s tendencies for bare minimum went beyond just his clothing. The decor of his inn could be described as <i>divorcee bachelor whose ex-wife took all the nice stuff</i>. His ability to be kind and thoughtful was scant. His willingness to accept my gluten intolerance was marginal. Seriously, he taunted me and tried to bully me into eating the croissant he served me each morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ken’s meager hospitality made relaxing at the inn impossible. He had only one small common area, the dining room, which he purposefully put the chairs upside down on the table after breakfast to discourage guests from lazing around where he might have to engage with them. He relaxed that unspoken rule if you offered to share a "good" bottle of wine with him. Then he was more than happy to shoot the breeze while standing around his kitchen, pantsless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not even the antics of Ken can convince me to return to boring, ubiquitous, boxy hotels. If we had chosen some grand hotel on the main streets of town, we would never have met Ken. I would have never known that not all innkeepers wear pants. I would have never known that Ken prefers the snug fit, but full coverage of the boxer brief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-29684961849126946892018-07-18T16:03:00.002-04:002018-07-18T16:03:49.245-04:00Centenarians Just Want to Have Fun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A Book Review by Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The 100-year-old man who climbed out the window and disappeared was a pretty interesting guy who, despite a rough early life, grew-up to be an extremely influential political figure quite by accident. For a guy who avoided the topics of politics and religion, Alan Karlsson deeply influenced many world leaders over his long and eventful life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In fact, Alan’s life was reminiscent of another well-known fictional man, Forest Gump. Happy accidents and a very easy-going attitude were all it took for Alan to live through many harrowing and volatile situations. He survived wars, prisons, starvation, and nearly freezing to death by simply going with the flow. Of course, he used creative thinking and resourcefulness to overcome many of his life’s obstacles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Who knew that drinking vodka and learning to blow things up would allow one to live such an amazing life? This book becomes a history lesson told through the eyes and adventures of the centenarian main character. Since I am not a history buff and had no interest in fact-checking, I cannot guarantee the history presented by the author is 100% true. However, the basic history lessons about presidents and dictators, the arms race and wars seemed plausible enough to believe the author, <a href="https://www.jonasjonasson.com/" target="_blank">Jonas Jonasson,</a> incorporated actual historical events into this comedic saga.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wouldn’t call this historical fiction per say, but history does play a major role in the 100 plus years that the old man lived. This book, translated from Swedish, is exceptionally funny. Cheers to the translators for being able to maintain the dry humor and extremely smart jokes embedded into the dialogue and narration of this book. The imagery and character flaws of all the hooligans our old man meets throughout his life did cause me to laugh out loud many, many times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Because this was a book written in flashbacks, I found it a bit hard to stay focused on the storyline. The history lessons became cumbersome. I enjoyed the storyline taking place in the present much more than the recollections. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The characters that our guy met along the way were each interesting and well fleshed out by Jonasson. Throughout his meetings of the various flawed men and women, Alan escapes death and tragedy in very comical ways. He is like the guy who walks down the street in old films while to world falls apart behind him as he whistles a happy tune oblivious to the destruction that lies in his wake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This book taught me a few things. 1. Don't force centenarians to live boring, boxed-up lives. 2. Learning to go with the flow will most likely provide you with a much more interesting life. 3. Maybe I should learn more about explosives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The adventures of Alan and his band of misfit cohorts is expertly narrated by <a href="http://stevencrossley.net/" target="_blank">Steven Crossley</a> in the audiobook version. This book might be best read versus listened to due to the intricate historical details. It was hard to focus both on driving and attending to all the minutia. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">According to an internet search, Will Ferrell is making this into a movie. That will be worth seeing for sure!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3943666927248321815.post-447730155090673452018-07-03T05:00:00.000-04:002018-07-03T05:00:06.601-04:00CBD and Me: My Quest to be Pain Free<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #c27ba0;"><b>Disclaimer:</b> I am not a doctor. Sometimes I act like I know more than I really do. Though I am a skeptic, I also really want certain things to work to help me and the people I love with the pain and suffering our bodies and minds inflict upon us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I never liked the feeling of the high from pot. I only ever smoked it a handful of times. That’s pretty impressive since I lived with and around a bunch of pot-smoking hippies for a big chunk of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When all of my chronic sleep and pain issues began and then persisted, years ago,<a href="https://mybrunettelifeasaredhead.blogspot.com/2016/12/merciless-massage-my-journey-to-cure.html" target="_blank"> I tried virtually everything and anything to bring me relief.</a> I was open to all types of traditional and non-traditional methods. The only thing I couldn’t do was smoke or eat pot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People tried to convince me that this was the answer. “<a href="https://www.thecannabist.co/2015/12/07/how-to-make-pot-brownies-cannabutter/43230/" target="_blank">Eat a brownie made with pot butter, </a>it’ll knock you out,” they pleaded. Reluctantly, I accepted the suspicious pastry and then gagged violently at the smell. Disgusting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My doctors prescribed pill after pill and I took them trusting they were giving me a scientifically sound, safe and thoroughly tested drug. I mean my insurance company paid for it and my medical doctor prescribed it so it must be great. Yeah, not so much.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In addition to my multitude of health problems, I have another annoying trait. I suffer from all of those side effects listed on the package or recited in gibberish on the commercials. Though I have never had anal leakage. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What this boils down to is, I am not a good candidate for drugs, prescription or otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When all the talk of medical marijuana started to become part of our nation's conversation, I was intrigued but not excited. I heard the stories of children not having seizures after doses of this <a href="https://www.dea.gov/druginfo/drug_data_sheets/Marijuana.pdf" target="_blank">“schedule 1” drug.</a> I've heard of cancer patients gaining relief from nausea. I've heard of combative children on the autism spectrum being able to calm and focus. I've heard of folks with anxiety not needing to take <a href="https://www.medicinenet.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=30807" target="_blank">psychotropic drugs</a> after trying a form of cannabis-derived medicine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The game changer for me was when I heard of people suffering from chronic and severe pain, finding real relief for the first time in their lives. This hit home. I started to pay more attention. Many in my family suffer from severe and debilitating chronic pain. I inherited the back disorder that my mom, aunts, uncles and cousins also live with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Still skeptical and reluctant to try the pot I knew from the past, I opened up my mind to the possibilities of the new cannabis alternatives. I started to listen, to read and to think. The form of cannabis that intrigued me the most was the easily accessible <a href="https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/317221.php" target="_blank">CBD oil or Cannabidiol.</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Many of my coworkers and friends started to share anecdotes of how this oil change their lives by helping with their personal pain and suffering or that of their child/children. Being a believer in alternative medicines and using natural approaches as much as possible, such as diet and exercise as well as aromatherapy or medicinal oils, it didn’t take much to convince me that this was a method I needed to try.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The major roadblock for me was fear of the unknown. Where did I go to find it? Who did I buy it from? How much did it cost? How did I take it? What did it taste like? Would it actually help me?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I thought about going to my local health food store and buying some but my ignorance caused my confidence to waiver. I didn’t want to be given something I didn’t want or need. Since I didn’t have time to read, or I would forget to research it until somebody reminded me of its existence, I continued to suffer from my daily pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So, what changed? Like most things, someone who I respect and know reached out and offered information. Through my work and my kids, I have met amazing and knowledgeable professionals and parents whom I trust. These women have kindly shared with me their experience, knowledge and wisdom for so many things over the years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My friend Sharon introduced me to therapeutic botanical oils. Now my allergy symptoms and hot flashes are under control. My friend Tereasa reached out and shared her very personal experiences with CBD oil. Knowing she is not one to jump into things blindly and that she takes the health and welfare of her children and herself very seriously, I was confident that if she was using CBD oil, then I should be too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One week ago, I started ingesting cinnamon flavored CBD oil produced by the company <a href="https://mygreenhorizen.com/product/100-pure-natural-cbd-oil-blend/" target="_blank">Green Horizen.</a></span> <span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> My friend Tereasa started to sell the oil because not only does she believe in the product, but she needed a way to help cover the cost so she and her family can benefit from its amazing effects.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/240944063155030/?multi_permalinks=254486718467431%2C254017575181012%2C253788438537259%2C253604041889032%2C253096751939761&notif_id=1530227351559080&notif_t=group_activity" target="_blank">Click here to learn more about Tereasa and her journey</a> </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">To be invited to the group, just tell her I sent you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Since taking the oil, I have experienced a drastic reduction in my chronic pain from <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4269422/" target="_blank">degenerative disc disease</a>. I can bend to do mundane tasks like tie my shoes or switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Moving from a sitting to a standing position used to cause shooting, horrible pain through my body. <b><span style="color: #a64d79;">Those days are over!</span></b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">More of my day is pain-free than it has been in years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For about $60.00 (including shipping) for a mid-strength dose which might last me a month, I am no longer suffering. I used to pay 4 or 5 times that a month in chiropractor, acupuncture and/or massage treatments!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It is not perfect, I am still trying to figure out how to manage my sleep with this new oil. Overall, I highly recommend you doing the research for yourself and deciding if this might help you. I am still learning so much myself and am reading more every day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Find someone you trust and ask all the questions you have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Not US government regulated<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Should not get you high as many have no significant amounts of THC<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Different doses and applications exist<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-The cinnamon flavor I chose is yummy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-More research needs to be done to determine its effectiveness and safety<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Like all medications, natural or not, tell your doctor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Like all medicines, natural or not, they can interact negatively with other medications so be smart and safe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Not everything works the same for everyone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Side effects both positive and negative are possible<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Read, question and read more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-size: large;">Some links to get your research started</span><br /></span></span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: purple;">(More helpful links are in the text)</span></span></h4>
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<a href="https://www.prevention.com/life/a19792969/cbd-oil-benefits-side-effects/">https://www.prevention.com/life/a19792969/cbd-oil-benefits-side-effects/<o:p></o:p></a></div>
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<span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://www.ravereviews.org/health/best-cbd-oil/">https://www.ravereviews.org/health/best-cbd-oil/</a></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://medicalmarijuana.procon.org/view.resource.php?resourceID=006473">https://medicalmarijuana.procon.org/view.resource.php?resourceID=006473</a></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/319475.php">https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/319475.php<o:p></o:p></a></div>
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lizredheadkristonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07049747524027616389noreply@blogger.com0