Grumbling

Highlights From August: I’m Not A Flower. I’m Not A Fork. I’m Not A Foe.

/ Ally Bean / 179 Comments

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The Flower Part

Late one afternoon while sitting outside on the deck, I was viciously attacked dive-bombed by a hummingbird who mistook me for a flower. Why, you may be wondering, did this little piece of flightiness think I was a flower?

Here’s the scene: I was wearing a pale pink baseball cap [similar here] + a medium pink fleece top [here] + raspberry-colored moccasin slippers [on sale now here] whilst drinking a pink grapefruit Italian soda [from here] that I’d poured into a clear plastic tumbler [here] with a bright red travel lid [here].

My basically pinkish-reddish ensemble + beverage were not intended to attract hummingbirds, but I nailed it.  And that little birdie with the fluttering wings couldn’t take his sparkly little eyes off me.

I was startled, but flattered.

The Fork Part 

Zen-Den and I finished watching Elementary, a TV series about Sherlock Holmes re-envisioned for modern times starring Jonny Lee Miller as Sherlock and Lucy Liu as Dr. Watson. I enjoyed it and thought the final episode was a good way to end it. Apparently not all fans liked the ending, so I just wrote something potentially controversial here.

Anyhoo, like many TV shows or movies, we sometimes focus on one line that we find absurdly funny and start saying it to each other— like a goofy inside joke. And this show gave us a good one.

In a scene where Sherlock and Marcus, a NYC police detective assigned to work with Sherlock, are kicking back after a difficult day, Sherlock who is often quite full of himself tells Marcus that he knows why Marcus is so taken with him.

It’s a scene of arrogance gone wild.

Sherlock starts babbling on about how his astounding intellect magnetizes people who are then drawn to him. It’s a burden Sherlock must live with.

Marcus, who has the patience of Job when dealing with Sherlock’s ego, replies: “You’re not a magnet. And I sure as hell am not a fork.” 

Thus I, too, want to establish the fact that I’m not a fork. You can’t magnetize me. Don’t even try.

The Foe Part

A friend, who seemed sincere when she said this, told me that she wanted to change something about her behavior so that she’d have more free time.

I was surprised BUT I am one to help others when they decide they want to change. To be clear I don’t believe I need to fix people, yet will help you fix yourself when you’re ready to do so. Think of me as your personal cheerleader.

A few weeks later I see this friend and compliment her on how she has changed herself, how she has followed through on doing that which she told me she wanted to do in order to have less stress in her busy life.

Welp, she lays into me for mentioning she was doing things differently now: things she told me she didn’t want to do anymore.

This was her idea, remember?

She got on her high horse and lectured me about how her well established M.O. was what she was known for and no way would she ever change it for fear of not being known for it.

This was slightly unhinged thinking— and a complete 180º from what she’d confided in me a few weeks earlier.

Obviously at this point I had a decision to make: do I remind her of what she told me about how she wanted to change? Or do I let the conversation drop knowing the more I say, the more she’ll think of me as her foe.

Thus I let the conversation drop, realizing that being a cheerleader for some people is a sure way of irritating them.

Go figure, huh?

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SO I’M BACK 

WHAT’S NEW WITH YOU?

TELL ALL IN THE COMMENTS BELOW

I NEED TO KNOW!

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Confessions Of A Reluctant Family Historian: My Kingdom For A Shredder

/ Ally Bean / 249 Comments

This is what is tripping me up. 😵‍💫

Last week while the outside temperatures and humidity soared to uncomfortable heights, I started going through boxes of old family photos + paper stuff, not because of an in-depth interest in genealogy, but because I want to reclaim a closet.

You see in our guest bedroom closet there are a gazillion and twenty-two boxes of old family photos + paper stuff that take up half of the closet.

Decades ago I inherited these boxes of old family photos + paper stuff from my mother and two aunts. While the boxes have been out of my sight for years their existence, even hidden away, has nagged at me.

Not as a constant worry mind you, but like a realization that there’s something I didn’t ask for taking up space in my life. And that something is weighing me down.

Group of guys, my great uncle is probably one of them.

Thus with quiet resolve I’ve begun going through these boxes that are disorganized, dusty, and sometimes have a musty odor that requires the use of an electric air cleaner in the room.

First I shredded that which obviously has no value. Things like a 1988 sales receipt for a “gold necklace” that was my mother’s, but who knows which necklace it refers to. Or things like patient notes scribbled in my doctor father’s chicken scratch cursive handwriting on the back of envelopes.

Then in an attempt to make some sense of it I’m sorting the contents of the boxes into smaller piles of:

  • Photos: a) by person when name is on the back or b) by guess based on the age of photo not the people in it [2 examples seen on this post]
  • Letters: a) personal exchanged within the family or b) signed by famous people
  • Historically interesting circuit rider preacher stuff [my great grandfather was one]
  • Lighthearted tidbits like comic strips or funny stories or cute cards
  • Bibles: 12 [!] complete ones + 3 New Testaments [1 in Spanish] + 1 Apocrypha

And this is where the project stands today.

Group of gals, my grandmother is probably one of them.

While I long to get this stuff dispatched to where it needs to go [trash? digitized photos? museums? wherever you send old Bibles?] there is a problem, obliquely referred to in a literary way in the title of this post. Gold star to anyone who gets the reference.

After shredding some old family photos + paper stuff and filling three 33 gallon extra large trash bags, I broke our 25 y.o. paper shredder. Jammed it up to a point that we decided to buy a new one, currently on order with Amazon, to be delivered later this week.

Because I have only just begun to shred. 😑

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QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

If you have inherited family photos, either because you wanted them or by default because you’re the end of the line, what have you done with them?

What project or projects are lurking in your closet, taking up physical and emotional space in your life?

Did you break any machines last week? If so, which one or ones?

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Grocery Store Chronicles: 3 Vignettes From My Shopping Adventures

/ Ally Bean / 246 Comments

Pretty picture of puzzle pieces put together that has nothing to do with the subject of this post, but pretty picture gotta pretty, right?

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TO BEGIN WITH

Over the years I’ve written about my grocery store shopping experiences and put the stories here under the tag: Grocery Store Chronicles.

[The story about discussing kinds of pears and the story about stealing potato chips have been the most popular. Also there’s Betsy‘s favorite story about me buying beer.]

While the following isn’t one complete story like those I linked to above, these are 3 vignettes about what I watched unfold, and entertained me, while shopping in ye olde Kroger this past holiday season.

LOVE CONQUERS CONFUSION

The layout of the first part of our store goes like this: produce, deli, cheese, bakery, then wine and beer.

It was coming up on New Year’s Eve, busy everywhere in the store.

I’d just seen a couple in their 40s picking out some produce for something specific, while overhearing them talk about making something special to take somewhere.

Moving on I went to the cheese kiosk and found myself standing with about 10 other people there as well as the couple. I looked around and realized that the wife was on the verge of tears because, as she explained for all to hear, she couldn’t remember which kind of cheese she was supposed to buy.

She turned to her husband and said: I dunno, I can’t remember. I’m just a little ball of confusion.

To which he said: You know what I like about that?

Her, sad: No… 

Him, leaning in to hug her: You’re MY little ball of confusion.

She smiled weakly while all of us standing around the cheese kiosk in unison went: Aww…

And with that he kissed her and said: I’ll go get the beer while you figure out the cheese. Meet you back here. 

KARMA GOT HER NUMBER 

It was crowded in the store with people and displays of food/wine everywhere.

Zen-Den and I had a small cart full of items and were heading to the U-Scan lanes to buy our stuff. A woman walking behind us to the U-Scan was impatient with our pace. She did a wild dash around us to get to the U-Scan lanes first, giving us the evil eye as she went by.

We shrugged.

As fate would have it, despite our pace, we ended up in the U-Scan spot beside her, which when she saw us caused her to snarl our way.

We shrugged.

Well, as Z-D played cashier scanning our items, I stood there and watched her, surreptitiously. And here’s what happened: her first credit card was rejected. Her second credit card was rejected.

And when we left having successfully scanned, packed, and paid for our groceries, she was holding a third credit card that had been rejected, while talking on her cell phone with someone.

Half of me felt sorry for her because I’d guess everyone has had a credit card rejected at some point and it is frustrating, BUT considering how impatient she was and her negative attitude toward us… I smiled.

Ha!

WHEN THE WRONG THING IS RIGHT

I was waiting in the cashier line, standing behind a Dad with a cart heaped with groceries and a 3 y.o. sitting in the basket cart seat. The Dad was at the front of the cart while the boy was directly in front of me.

The little guy was laser-focused on everything his Dad was putting on the conveyor belt. Nothing escaped his notice.

About halfway through unloading the cart the boy told his Dad: That’s the wrong milk.

Dad: What?

Boy: It’s blue. 

Dad: WHAT?

Boy: It should be red.

Dad, catching on that his son was talking about the color of the label on the milk: No the blue one is right this time. 

Boy, raising his eyebrow like the 50 y.o. man he’ll be: Mom. buys. red.

Dad, still putting items on the conveyor belt: The blue one is buttermilk. It’s the right one this time because Mom is making cookies and this is what she uses. 

Boy, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, explaining to me under his breath: Mom BUYS cookies… and she’s gonna be mad about no red milk. 

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QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

So, been shopping in a brick and mortar store lately? And how did that go for you?

Overheard anything that made you smile?

Or watched something happen that brought out the snark in you?

Or confirmed that kids can be wise beyond their years?

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Not Slowing My Roll In Time: Baffled, Bothered, And Bugged

/ Ally Bean / 239 Comments

Introduction

HAVE you ever watched something happen in front of you but it doesn’t immediately register what is really happening in front of you, yet you sense something’s not right, THEN when you realize what’s really happening in front of you it’s too late to stop it from happening right in front of you, so you watch in horror, or disgust, while what is happening in front of you happens?

That’s what this post is about.

Baffled

THIS is what happened in front of me as I stood in the kitchen waiting for the early morning coffee to brew.

Having taken the roller shade remote control out of the drawer where it is stored…

Having pushed the buttons that open all four roller shades at the same time so that I could see our backyard aka the forest primeval…

Having become aware that there was a dark smudge on one of the roller shades that was rolling up…

Having sudden realized that the dark smudge was animated moving downward as the shade went up…

Bothered

THEN realizing that the dark smudge was a stink bug that had somehow gotten inside the house from the forest primeval and was on the back side of one of the roller shades.

Where it was caught in the upward roller action of the opening shade…

Where if I’d been quicker I could have grabbed the remote control from the drawer to stop the shade from rolling up but…

Where because of my slowness to understand and act promptly the unfortunate stink bug was slowly smooshed into a lumpy mess…

Where the dearly departed bug left an actual dark smudge for real.

Bugged

THAT forced me to forego my first cup of morning coffee while I frantically attempted to clean the remains of the bug off the roller shade.

Which was now stained with a smelly dark smudge that required a gentle removal of bug guts using a damp paper towel…

Which lead to a light dabbing of club soda attempting to get the bubbly water to flush out the bug guts from within the weave of the roller shade fabric…

Which was followed by a fast Google search about how to remove a stain from a roller shade…

Which culminated in creating a mild solution of Woolite Laundry Detergent + cool water that when applied with a microfiber towel removed most of, but not all of, the bug gut stain.

Conclusion

AND with that glimpse into my life I’ll say “good day” to one and all, hoping that your day doesn’t involve stink bug guts, but if it does may it happen after you are fully awake, cognizant of what is really happening right in front of you as it happens, so that you may slow your roll in time.

Unlike me.

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I’m back everyone. How ‘ya doing?

Anything in particular bugging you lately? Do tell!

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