A Text Not Meant For Me, A Game Not Played By Me

March 18, 2025 / Ally Bean / 257 Comments

IT WAS AROUND THIS TIME 5 years ago when I lost touch with, let’s call her, Kathleen the Control Freak— a natural born queen bee, uptight and competitive.

The Covid-19 pandemic lockdown had just begun. I’d texted her to make sure she was doing okay and got a terse reply something to the effect of: “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I responded with a polite “Just checking in” and left it at that.

During the next few months I tried a few more times to text her, our usual way of communicating, but got no reply.

Crickets make more noise.

Come December we didn’t receive a holiday card from Kathleen the Control Freak which confirmed I no longer existed in her small world which, truthfully, I was happy to not be part of anymore.

I’ve never been good in the role of a wannabe to a queen bee.

• • •

FAST FORWARD TO A FEW weeks ago when Kathleen the Control Freak texted me, including me in a group text to friends who play pickleball at her club. This seemed odd because: 1) her previous behavior over the last five years suggested I am persona non grata; and 2) I don’t play pickleball.

I believe I was accidentally included.

At this point, fun as it would have been to text a group reply about this queen bee’s error, I did not do that. Instead I watched in real time as everyone, a group of women who’d never give me the time of day, texted among themselves.

From this I observed that these women, who gushed and fawned over each other, waited dutifully for Kathleen the Control Freak to establish dominance by dictating where and when they’d be going to breakfast together the next morning after she finished her 8:00 a.m. pickleball game.

Queens gotta rule all the courts.

• • •

NOW AS YOU CAN IMAGINE this experience left me with a few things to consider.

• I wondered why Kathleen the Control Freak, a perfectionist along the lines of Martha Stewart, still has my phone number, presumably for some reason, in her exalted list of contacts.

I admit this seemed odd to me but also not worth dwelling on. Her number is no longer in my contacts and that’s what matters to me.

• I wondered why I’d ever considered Kathleen the Control Freak to be a friend. Was I wrong when I thought she was fun to be around? Or have we both changed over the years— she getting bossier, me getting mellower?

That’s the conclusion I’m sticking with because I see no need to overthink why someone ghosts you.

• But most importantly, and this is where the snark is, I wondered about whether I should be mischievous and show up to join the group for breakfast the next morning.

After all I knew the details of the plan to get together, didn’t I?

But I didn’t go. For one thing it’d have been an hour drive to get to their side of town and that seemed more bothersome & petty than worthwhile & victorious.

And for another thing despite contemplating this way to upset them, in reality I didn’t care about whatever the heck was going on with this group of grown-up mean girls.

Under the circumstances, would you?

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

Thinking about these last five years, has anyone ghosted you? Have you ghosted anyone? Details if you please.

Have you ever found yourself in a group text where you didn’t belong? If so, what did you do?

Who’s the most control freaky person you know in real life?

Do you play pickleball?

• • 🪴 • •

I’m Pleased To Announce That Miss Nettie Briggs Has Entered The Chat

March 4, 2025March 4, 2025 / Ally Bean / 217 Comments

Give attitude, get attention, right?

I like that saying, it explains many things.

I prefer, and I think you’d agree, that the attitude be positive spunk [aka signal] rather than negative junk [aka noise], BUT the result is the same: the attention is on you.

Not that giving attitude is anything new.

In fact back when the world was a more genteel place free from 24/7 news and social media, I’m sure people gave attitude— just in more subtle ways. They may have been irritated by events and other people, but seemingly they tolerated that irritation with more grace than today*.

Case in point is Miss Nettie Briggs. She is featured in the professional portrait seen at the top of this post. She is looking placid, mildly amused by what she is doing.

Or so it seems to me.

I found this photo mixed in among the boxes of family photos that I sorted last summer and wrote about in Confessions Of A Reluctant Family Historian: My Kingdom For A Shredder, my most popular post of 2024. [Go figure?]

I don’t know for sure who Miss Nettie Briggs was: my mother had written her name on the back of the photo so she knew who she was. But there’s no one left from any generation that’d be able to tell me Miss Nettie Briggs’s story.

However I have an inkling of who she might have been.

I remember my mother talking about a nurse who came to live with her family for a year, tasked with looking after my mother’s older sister who’d had abdominal surgery. Something that at the time was a dangerous procedure that required months of bedrest in order to heal.

Nettie lived with them and when not looking after her charge, who slept a lot, she read books to and played games with my mother and her younger sister.

Mom liked Miss Nettie Briggs, as I recall. Enough, I would guess, to keep a photo of Miss Nettie Briggs around in a ratty cardboard box full of dusty old family photos for me to find one day.

I adore Miss Nettie Briggs because I find her charming.

Thus it has come to be that Nettie’s photo is now framed and hanging on the wall in our study where I do my blogging, old-school style on a desktop computer.

Meaning that whenever I do anything related to blogging Nettie is looking over my shoulder, keeping my thoughts mostly civil, my sense of humor firmly intact, and my vibe jovial enough.

At least most days.

Questions of the Day

What’s your attitude today? Are you receiving the kind of attention you want?

Do you have any old family photos of somebody who is a mystery to you?

Do you have any old or new photos of people framed and hanging on your walls? Once upon a time that was frowned upon you know!

• 🤎 •

* Last month in various places online I, a kind-hearted person, was criticized for:

watching TV shows rather than reading books
suggesting that not all men are worthy of adoration
noting the demographics of people who got in my way
proposing that not all old things are worth saving
not obsessing constantly about The Donald and his First Buddy

A Chance Encounter In The Cereal Aisle, An Unexpected Act Of Probably Legal Kindness

February 18, 2025 / Ally Bean / 219 Comments

Something weird happened. Please allow me to explain.

A few weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon Zen-Den and I were shopping in Kroger. It was busy but not chaotic, for the most part shoppers were aware of each other. In fact the biggest annoyances were the extra temporary displays clogging the aisles.

Thus it was a slow process going up and down the aisles, but we weren’t in a hurry so we moseyed happily along, Z-D pushing the cart, me following behind him.

In the cereal aisle we came to a full stop when we encountered a couple in their 70s who were looking for one particular cereal. They’d abandoned their cart in the middle of the aisle and, with paper coupon in hand, were laser-focused on finding the right cereal on the shelf, wherever it might be.

We just smiled and waited.

Eventually they found their cereal and looked up to see us standing there, unperturbed. The woman, who was wearing a sweatshirt that said “You Are Enough,” apologized to us for holding up traffic.

No problem say we and go on our way continuing to shop.

• • •

Eventually we got what we needed and went to stand in line to use the U-scan machines. After a few minutes we scored a machine and went to it.

Doing our usual grocery shopping two-step, I handed the items to Z-D. He then scanned and bagged them.

Welp, while we were doing this I noticed the older couple was now in line for the U-scans. Then kind of out of nowhere the “You Are Enough” sweatshirt woman walks up to Z-D, who is in the process of weighing fruit, and says: “Excuse me sir, these are for you.”

At which point she hands a surprised Zen-Den three flowers [seen in the photo at the top of this post]. He looks at me, like I should have a clue about why this is happening, but I shrug.

Beats me.

So he thanks her while taking the flowers that he then hands to me. She smiles and goes back to standing in line with her husband by their cart of unpaid for groceries and a bouquet of flowers.

We finish checking out, pay for our stuff, and walk out of the store with me holding what was TECHNICALLY, from a strictly legal perspective was probably, STOLEN MERCHANDISE because at that minute while we walked to our car the flowers hadn’t been purchased by the older couple who was still standing in line waiting to buy them.

I hope.

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

Do you believe this was a weird experience?

Has anything like this happened to you— that is, having a stranger, who might be a little Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, spontaneously hand you a gift?

Do you like the “You Are Enough” message on the woman’s sweatshirt? Was the Universe trying to tell us something or just playing mind games with us?

How often to you go grocery shopping? Do you prefer a certain day and/or time of day?

• • 🛒 • •

What A Hoot! 6 Random Things To Tell You On A Tuesday Morning In February

February 11, 2025February 12, 2025 / Ally Bean / 277 Comments

I am reminded. Many, many years ago around Valentine’s Day I learned about a simple Spanish cocktail called a Kalimotxo. It’s Red Wine & Coke, a take on the Cuba Libre cocktail of Rum & Coke. It’s not my favorite drink, but I won’t disparage it either. I remember it at this time of year because it was deemed the perfect Valentine’s Day cocktail. Think whimsically and look at how it is spelled: KalimotXO. Kisses and hugs automatically included with each drink.

I am grateful. Colette, a former blogger who is now HERE on IG, has a relaxed idea about how to embrace thankfulness. I am doing it. Instead of a daily gratitude journal, each week you decide what’s your one favorite gratitude experience from the week. Then you write it on a small piece of paper, fold the paper into a square, putting the square into a jar designated: Good Things. After a year you’ll have your bestest gratitude moments in a pile of notes in front of you.

I am irked. WordPress’s current commenting system is an exasperating multi-step process— if you can even get your words to show up in the comment box. I contacted WordPress yesterday and asked why I was unable to comment on WP blogs. The Happiness Engineer gave me the link to WP problem updates + had many suggestions of various possible solutions. The one that worked for me was to change browsers, so now instead of Safari I’m using Chrome for iMac when I visit bloggy friends and want to leave a comment.

I am delighted. I’m a fan of Richard Osman’s Thursday Murder Club series of cozy mysteries that feature octogenarian sleuths. Thus I’m looking forward to the movie version with its perfect cast: Helen Mirren [Elizabeth], Ben Kingsley [Ibrahim], Pierce Brosnan [Ron], and Celia Imrie [Joyce]. The movie is set to release in 2025 and it well could be the best thing to happen this year.

I am underwhelmed. If you enjoy NYT’s Connections word game and would like to create your own, go HERE and have at it. However, a truth bomb: I put together a couple of these games and discovered that my results were weaksauce, not even worth saving. But you might be better at making one than I was.

I am nerdy. According to the Jock-Nerd/Prep-Goth Test I’m a Nerd who’s slouching toward Goth. To wit: “Nerds are sometimes seen as being more interested in academics, technology, or other ‘nerdy’ pursuits than in popular culture or mainstream social activities.” Hell yes, NAILED IT! A joiner I am not.