What Makes You Happy?

 

By Joan Whetzel

I found this writing prompt a while back. When I wrote it at the top of the page, I first started making a list of all kinds of “things.” But when I went back and looked at the list later, I realized it was just a list of stuff. And none of them really made me happy. They didn’t really fill my senses or touch my heart in any way. They were pleasant to be sure, but that pleasant feeling didn’t last. They were just “things” that were pleasant for the briefest of times. I re-thought my list. And here were 5 things that really made me happy. Every time I revive one of these memories, I feel their warmth all over again.

1.  First day of spring or fall weather. It’s bright and sunny, with a small breeze, and the humidity is just right. One of those days when you want to spend the whole day outside. Maybe planting flowers or raking leaves, having a picnic, bike riding or walking in the park. Doesn’t matter as long as you don’t have to go inside until nightfall.

  2.  Driving past wide-open field being mowed for the first time in Spring. Grass mown in the springtime smells different than summer and fall grass. Spring grass smells new, and fresh, and full of hope. It smells greener. It smells delicious.

   3.  Getting the house to myself for the whole day. I get to do whatever I want. Don’t have to take care of anybody, except for myself.

  4.   Rain at night. Good sleeping weather.

 5.  Someone tells you something unexpectedly nice about yourself. Especially when you never knew they felt that way about you.

The best thing about these happy things is that they don’t cost anything. They’re free. What are 5 things that make you happy?

What are Some of Your Favorite Childhood Memories

 By: Joan Whetzel

When I first saw this question as a writing prompt, I rejected it. It read: “What Is Your Favorite Childhood Memory?” I couldn’t imagine writing about one memory as my favorite. I knew somewhere down the road, another favorite memory would come to mind, and that one would compete with my current favorite. I know, because I keep having favorite childhood memories show up when I’m not looking. And I find I can’t decide which one is truly my favorite. With that in mind, I changed the writing prompt to “What are Some of Your Favorite Childhood Memories?” I jotted down a few of them below.

Sliding down the hill on flattened boxes in Ohio.

-        Tobogganing down one of the few hills in Rolling Meadows, and almost going over the edge into the creek.

-        Waiting for the pond in Rolling Meadows to freeze so we could go ice skating on the rippled ice.

-        Waiting every Christmas foe grandma’s box of Christmas cookies. My favorites were the waffle cookies and the chocolate coconut cookies

-        The house on Rowan St. here in Houston when we first moved in. At the end of the block was a field of cows.

-        Grandma and Grandpa taking the train to Houston to visit us every Thanksgiving. I loved going to the train station to pick them up. When they went home, grandpa would always tie all of our shoes together and knotted the laces so we couldn’t get them loosened to go to school the next Monday

-        Every fall, grandma would send us a package with fall leaves pressed between sheets of waxed paper, because we didn’t get proper fall colors down here.

 

Oh, there’s lots more. This is just the starter kit.

 

JOAN'S OFFICE: What Things Can’t You Live Without?

JOAN'S OFFICE: What Things Can’t You Live Without?:                                                                              By Joan Whetzel   If you had asked me this question as a ki...

What Things Can’t You Live Without?

                                                             By Joan Whetzel

 

If you had asked me this question as a kid, I would probably have chosen a favorite Easter dress, trick or treating, Christmas presents, a specific friend (who I haven’t seen in decades and would no longer recognize if I passed them on the street), the public swimming pool a couple blocks over, or that red bike I used to ride everywhere – to name a few.

 Funny how the things you consider important change with age and time. My list of things I can’t live without is may be shorter than it used to be – or maybe not. The items it contains is definitely different. 

Here’s my current list.I cannot live without (not necessarily in this order):

Ø  My family.

Ø  God.

Ø  Friends, for as long as God allows them to be in my life (life changes, people move, …).

Ø  Food and water.

Ø  A roof over my head.

Ø  Sunshine and rain.

Ø  Flannel sheets in the winter, or a heating blanket to heat up the sheets before I get in to bed on cold nights.

Ø  Music, all kinds.

Ø  Sleep.

Ø  White noise, to drown out the total quiet on those nights when everyone actually goes home to sleep, when there’s no dogs conversing all night, and when there’s no noisy weather going on outside – or on those nights when my brain won’t shut up.

Ø  The ceiling fan at night. Yes, even in the winter I need to feel the air moving.

Ø  Alone time = having the house to myself once in a while.

Ø  A graceful exit from large parties or gatherings (too people-y).

Ø  Good books to read.

Ø  Places to volunteer.

Ø  Income.

Ø  Green spaces (picnics, walks, playgrounds).

 

I’m sure I’ll mentally add to this list from time to time.

JOAN'S OFFICE: Trouble Sleeping Again

JOAN'S OFFICE: Trouble Sleeping Again:  Posted: August 23, 2020 By: Joan Whetzel   This year has weighed heavy on my, and yes, I know I am not alone in this. Between the Covid...

Trouble Sleeping Again

 Posted: August 23, 2020

By: Joan Whetzel

 

This year has weighed heavy on my, and yes, I know I am not alone in this. Between the Covid, the lock downs, lower income because of not working, the political climate, and just a general feeling that everything feels unsettled, I have come to a point this summer where I cannot sleep well. It reminds me of my personal summer from hell a few years ago, and has triggered some of the feelings of being in a life I have no control over – feelings I had that summer after my husband died – triggering memories of the trouble sleeping I had back then. Sleep-wise, I would kill for a consistent string of all-nighters, with only a rare trip to the bathroom.

 

Well I have, in the intervening years, developed a bedtime routine of sorts, which has helped me get a good night’s sleep most of the time. At least until this summer. This summer’s routine means I am getting a little more sleep than I did that summer (5 hours interrupted sleep as opposed to 3 hours of extremely interrupted sleep). But oh, what I wouldn’t give for a normal sleep pattern again.

 

My bedtime routine includes:

1.   -  Running the ceiling fan to keep it cool (and for a little white noise).

2.   -  Going to bed and waking up at the same time.

3.   -  Watching what I eat, especially in the evening (no spicy or fried foods, no coffee past noon).

4.    - Using dim table lamps the last hour before laying down to go to sleep.

5.   -  Praying (usually the rosary, something about the rhythm of it) right before going to sleep.

6.   --  Getting regular exercise during the daytime.

7.   -  Turning off political and Covid virus news. Period.

8.  -   Watching TV shows or movies that allow my mind to wander and imagine; shows that don’t leave me  agitated and upset.

-I have found a few bedtime and daily routine things that I change out or add in to my day and night as needed:

1.   -  I have noticed that my exercise routine has fallen off considerably, and I am working back into increased exercise daily.

2.   - Since I’m home all the time, I have begun taking afternoon naps. Definitely a habit I’ve had to work hard at stopping.

3.    - I’ve been locked up inside. So, on the few days I get outside and catch some rays, I have slept better that night. So, this will be something I add more regularly to my days. Even if it’s only to go sit out on the deck to eat lunch.

4.  -   I do occasional mindless repetitive tasks in front of the evening TV, like mending, making lists of things that need to be done seems to wind my mind down. Less time to worry over the things that keep my head from shutting up.

5.   -  I turn on a relaxation or sleep “video” from my Amazon Prime account, and setting the TV timer to turn off in 30 minutes. (I always fall asleep before the TV goes off).

6.   -  Or use my white noise machine. It has a selection of sounds to choose from and I can set it to turn itself off. (I fall asleep before it turns off).

7.   -  I also read a few chapters of my latest book several nights a week.

Lately, I have added one more trick that Grandma Pauken used to help us sleep when we went up there on summer vacations. I drink a glass of warm milk with Ovaltine. I’ve done it for the last 2 nights. It definitely helps me fall asleep. It hasn’t quite helped me stay asleep all night – yet. But then it’s only been 2 nights. So, we’ll see. I have found a few other tricks I might swap out. I’ll let you know how they work.

 

 

OMG, When Did I Become My Dad?

By Joan Whetzel

I’ve been pondering my life lately. Looking at the choices I’ve made, the way I think, the way I decide to do things. I’ve come to the realization that I’m hardwired a lot like my dad. Then it felt like the universe reached out and whacked me upside the head. OMG! When did I become my dad?

Whenever the universe drops a few more “challenges” in my lap (I can think of a few other choice words that I’d like to use), first I get mad, plot a little revenge against the person or entity that’s raising my stress levels along with my blood pressure, then I take care of the elephant in the room in the quickest most efficient way possible. I can’t count the number of times I saw my dad stress out over seemingly overwhelming odds dropped in his lap, then suddenly come up with an organize plan for fixing it in the most efficient way possible.

Refrain: OMG when did I become my dad?

Over the years I have planned things like vacations (haven’t been able to afford one of those in years) and even picnics. I’d pull out the road maps and plan the route; plan what’s packed for the trip or picnic or trip to Miller Outdoor theater; plan for every contingency; and make sure everything makes it into the car – on both ends of the trip.  

Refrain: OMG, when did I become my dad?

I have found, especially in recent years since my husband’s death, that making lists of everything that needs doing and all the steps involved, calms my mind. It also feeds my OCD need to organize EVERYTHING!   

Refrain: OMG, when did I become my dad?

I’ve also noticed that I can’t stand leaving things undone.

·       Can’t get up in the morning without making my bed.

·       Can’t leave bills unpaid when I have the money in my account to pay them right now.

·       When facing a “challenge” requiring several steps to fix, I can’t sit around waiting for the ball to land back in my court before I collect everything I need to take care of the next step. I have to collect everything I know I’m going to need – well in advance – and stack the items in neat little piles, organized by the “challenge” that needs fixing. Each pile is then organized into paper-clipped bundles that represent the step where it’ll be needed and each paper-clipped bundle is placed in chronological order in its pile.

·       Even my preparations for doing my taxes are organized. Receipts/Documents are collected in a fanfold file, labeled by topic, and all the receipts and documents are placed in chronological order or by sub-topic (check stubs or documents for income are paper-clipped by income source). Makes it easier at tax time, since I won’t have to do so much organization when I sit down to do my taxes. 

Refrain: OMG, when did I become my dad?

A couple of weeks ago I created another one of my Excel spreadsheets to track the tasks I was doing at work. I started pondering all of the Excel increasingly complex spreadsheets that I have created for myself in recent years to track my spending, to keep track of my taxes and income, and a whole bunch of other stuff that I do. Yeah, just another shining example of my OCD need to stay organized and on top of things. Anyway, I got to thinking that if dad had had the opportunity to learn Excel and saw all the neato-keeno ways that it could be used to organize just about everything, that he would have LOVED this tool. The universe just whacked me upside the head again. I suddenly saw me and dad trying to one-up each other in a never-ending Excel spreadsheet complexity competition. 

Refrain: OMG, when did I become my dad?

 

Alternate Routes

By Joan Whetzel

 

I started a new job right before Christmas. The job is a little further from home than I would have liked, but the pay is good and I really need to work. So, I said yes when they offered. Well, I thought I’d found the perfect route, based on the facts at hand. It didn’t take long to figure out I needed some alternative routes.

The facts at hand? Houston traffic is a nightmare after about 6:15 in the morning. If I leave any time after that, I’d be late for work. Severe weather and traffic accidents will alter drive times and traffic patterns, NOT in my favor. I was originally scheduled to work 7:30 to 4:00, which means that leaving by 6:15 could get me to work in about 40 to 45 minutes. Leaving work at 4:00 could get me home in about an hour to 1 hour and 15 minutes. I figured I might add a little time after the holidays.

Yeah, well, come January 2^nd, reality set in. My estimates about the expected extra drive time were way-ay-ay off! My morning commute jumped to 1-hour 15-minutes, and I was almost late to work. If there had been an accident or weather-related road conditions I WOULD have been late. My afternoon commute soared to 1½ - 2 hours. I quickly started trying some of the alternate routes I’d considered for accidents and inclement weather.

I have found my best alternates my morning and evening commutes that cut out a decent amount of time. I also change my shift to 7:00 to 3:30, which shaved off even more time. Yes, I have to leave a little earlier in the morning - 6:00 instead of 6:15 – but I don’t have to get up any earlier, so that’s just fine with me. That 15-minute lead time allows me to take the freeway for part of the trip, and I get to travel at posted speeds. Woohoo! I now get to work in only 30 to 40 minutes. Leaving work at 3:30 has its perks too. I miss the afternoon rush hour (which starts at 4:00ish) and make the drive home in just under an hour.

The only time even the alternate routes didn’t pan out was that week of Houston’s deep freeze. But then most businesses closed down – including my job for a day and a half. My biggest problem with that particular weather condition (other than driving slower to avoid ice skating) was that I discovered my car does not like getting out of bed when the temps drop to freezing or below. Especially, if the temperature stays below freezing for more than an hour (in this case for over 72 hours straight).

Thankfully, that’s not something I’ll usually encounter since the weather gods rarely wreak such havoc. No, they prefer the heavy rain and flooding havoc. Now all I need is another alternate route for when a heavy rain occurs overnight. Some of my alternate routes – and my current routes – tend to have flooding problems. Guess I’ll have to get up and leave earlier.

Week of Dec. 10, 2017 – Dreaming of a White Christmas – Or Is It a Green Christmas?

By Joan Whetzel

 

There’s a Christmas song I’m sure all of us has heard called “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.” Naturally here in Houston, none of us expects this to occur. It takes a meteorological miracle of astronomical proportions for precipitation to turn to snow down here. It doesn’t snow here. It rains. The las time a little snow dusted the ground was 8 years ago. Before that, I can’t remember I think my kids were 2 and 6, so we’re talking somewhere around 1989 --- maybe.

Well this week, one of those meteorological magicians dumped some snow on us. We got 2 inches in our yard, and on our cars, and Christmas yard ornaments. Well, it darned near shut down the city. But the ground was so warm that the streets didn’t freeze except a few Highway overpasses. And the schools had missed so much school because of Hurricane Harvey in August and September, that the schools didn’t close. Only a few started late.

Well, I got another Christmas miracle on the same day the snow came. The job I’ve been looking for – for 6 months – finally came through. I start on Monday. They pay weekly so my first paycheck comes Friday December 22^nd. I’m dreaming of a Green Christmas now. I asked my prayer warrior mom if she needed knee surgery after all that. She says, “No! I do all my praying from my Easy Chair these days. HE knows my knees aren’t made for kneeling anymore.”

From me to everyone out there, Have a Happy Green Christmas

Week of Sept. 17, 2017 - Gardening Therapy

By Joan Whetzel

Last weekend one of my cousins (Meg) shared on Facebook, that she had “a million things” she was supposed to do last weekend. But instead, she decided to stay home and work on her flowerbeds. Though the other activities may have proven more interesting, the “gardening therapy” did far more for her soul than the ones she rejected.

Suddenly several other people joined the conversation with similar responses of having done some sort of gardening therapy. My daughter, oldest granddaughter, and I mowed and edged the yard and weeded a flower bed that Friday. And, though it’s not gardening therapy, we washed our cars on Sunday.

The general discourse around “gardening therapy” examined parallel themes of enjoying the sunshine and pleasant temperatures (mid-80s for the highs here), getting a little exercise (good for the body and the soul), and the fact that it’s one of those therapies that’s way-ay-ay-ay more calming and way- ay-ay-ay cheaper than shopping therapy. Yeah, that’s something I learned a long time ago. Though I do dip my toes into the shopping therapy pool on occasion, I can’t afford it. And besides, shopping therapy doesn’t feed my soul. It just leaves me with a bunch stuff I can’t afford and don’t usually want to take care of.

Gardening Therapy, on the other hand, (includes mowing for me), not only makes me feel physically better, it makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something worthwhile. And when my daughter and I are done, we have something tangible to show for our efforts – a yard that looks nice. Even though it tends to tire us out, it’s funny how much that use of energy energizes us, and inspires us to accomplish other tasks (like the car wash).

I think the biggest thing about Gardening Therapy, is that it reminds me of the Gardening Therapy my Grandma Pauken indulged in. No, my yard and my flowerbeds will never look as grand, colorful, and beautiful as hers. But nowadays, I have a much healthier appreciation for the time she spent puttering out in her yard. Especially during when there’s nothing to do out in the yard. I kinda miss working out in the yard then.

Snow??? I live in Southeast Texas. What is snow? Does shoveling snow count as Gardening Therapy?

Week of July 2, 2017 – Prayer Warrior, or My Patron Saint of Roller Coasters

By Joan Whetzel

It’s been 4 years since my husband died and in those 4 years, my life has had a number of ups and downs. I can honestly say, there’ve been days at a time – weeks at a time – when it felt like a never-ending roller coaster. Yeah, I know, everybody gets them. But, at least for me, it has felt more overwhelming riding that roller coaster alone. It somehow didn’t seem as challenging when I had a partner, taking turns riding shotgun.

Usually when I get on one of these rides, I make a list (thanks dad for the list-making obsession) of all the possible problems that could come up, all the possible solutions to each problem, and a breakdown of the steps needed for a successful outcome. Actually, I have discovered that the act of list-making has a calming effect. It relieves at least some of my stress by redirecting my focus away from all the negative emotions and stress and potential problems, and aims my thoughts toward more constructive ways of dealing with the current roller coaster.

Needing a new job to pay the bills is definitely one of those cases. You see, I’ve been going through an employment roller coaster the last few weeks. I started looking for a job about 3 months ago and have been without a job (officially) for a month. While I’ve been performing all the necessary actions to help myself get a job, the need to pay the bills and a couple of extra (expensive) things with only my husband’s pension and dwindling funds in the savings has punctuated my need to get a steady paying job as soon as possible. The fact that it keeps my stress levels from disappearing has also been a reminder that I could use a little help of a spiritual nature.

That’s where my prayer warrior comes in. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I should be praying for myself, asking Him for what I need, but it always feels a little selfish somehow. Whenever I mention my need to my mom – the world’s prayer warrior extraordinaire – she immediately gets on her knees, figuratively. Every time I’ve found myself in need, having her as my prayer warrior has brought me the best solutions and gotten them up and running in a rapid-fire delivery. Her prayers always work, and always quickly.

When this one showed signs of dragging on, I didn’t want to say anything, but I was beginning to wonder if my answer was going to be a permanent “no.” Last Friday, I visited my mom with my daughter and 2 of my siblings. While I was there, I got 3 – count ‘em three – phone calls from one company to set me up with an interview this week (Wednesday July 5, at noon).

My mom said she’d been praying like mad, and she was beginning to wonder if she might be losing her touch, or maybe she dialed the wrong number. Well that set us all off laughing about what it would look like if prayer-warrior mom decided it was time to make sure she had His attention. First, she’d clear her throat. If that didn’t work, she’d get on her knees in front of the Blessed Sacrament and give Him “the look” (you know which one I’m talking about). Then she’d follow through with the finger wag and a stern “Don’t make me come up there!”

I can hear him answering her back, “No, no, no Mary Louise! Please don’t come up here! One mom up here is enough.”

Don’t jump down my throat, and calling me sacrilegious for describing my mom pulling the mom-card on the Lord. Anybody who know my mom, and has had one of her prayer-warrior campaigns work on their behalf, knows I’m not being disrespectful here. This is just the way of things between Him and my mom. Besides I have the Lord and my prayer-warrior mom to thank for this interview and I know she’s back on her knees praying me through it. Praise the Lord!

JOAN'S OFFICE: February, It’s Winter…Wait, It’s Summer ,,,No, It’...

JOAN'S OFFICE: February, It’s Winter…Wait, It’s Summer ,,,No, It’...: By Joan Whetzel This winter has been way to warm. I think we’ve had maybe 2-weeks’ worth of cold days, a day here, 2 days there. And ...

February, It’s Winter…Wait, It’s Summer ,,,No, It’s Winter?

By Joan Whetzel

This winter has been way to warm. I think we’ve had maybe 2-weeks’ worth of cold days, a day here, 2 days there. And a couple of the cold nights hit below the freezing mark and killed off a lot of plant life around our neighborhood. The month of February has been so hot, I swear we’re already having summer.

Well, hot weather means new growth. So, we figured if it’s hot out we might as well get rid of the dead stuff and start cleaning up our yard. Wait and see what comes back. Which we’ve been doing the last couple of weeks. Pulling weeds, clearing out dead plants, trimming trees, sweeping up needles that the pine trees have been shedding like a herd of horses shedding their winter coats.

This morning (Saturday) we got out and mowed, front and back, for the first time this year. The grass wasn’t particularly tall, but it was starting to look a bit scraggly. We’ve been noticing most of our neighbors having the same idea about clearing out the dead stuff, trimming trees and shrubs, and mowing. Including one who’s been trying to get her husband to trim the shrubs for a couple years now. He kept replying that he liked them taller. He couldn’t get by with it this year. The winter/summer/winter/spring-fall/winter/summer took its toll on their yard too.

So right now, everyone’s yard looks a bit sparse. I noticed the garden center down the street has been doing the business this weekend. They can’t keep the grass rectangles in stock – yeah we had to replace a few in an area where we removed some paving stones. One of these paychecks, we are going back to see about some plants. In the meantime, we have planted some flower seeds – forget me nots, morning glories, and a few bulbs that started sprouting in their pouches.

I also washed my car this weekend. After I did, I noticed several of my neighbors doing the same. Both my next-door neighbors, and the guy across the street, were out most of the day Saturday working on their truck engines. I tell you, the last few weekends have felt like the lyrics from that Monkees song, “Pleasant Valley Sunday” with people out mowing, taking care of flower beds, grilling out – oh, yeah, the grills have been going every weekend. In February. I can hardly wait to see what the summer’s gonna be like.

Week of February 5, 2017 – Another Anniversary

By Joan Whetzel

 

This past week 2 anniversaries passed for me and my family – my father’s birthday on Feb. 2 and the 3^rd anniversary of his passing the next day. Normally, I feel a bit anxious this time of year since his passing. But this year, it really got to me.

You see, last Friday, a co-worker’s husband died in a horrible car accident. While I understand some of the widow part of what she’s going through, she’s also got a young son (9 years) and a step-son (17 years) that she and her husband were raising. I can’t imagine that part of what she’s going through.

So, while last week stirred up some of the feelings I had on my own widow’s journey, it also stirred up the loss of my father. The fact that her husband’s funeral fell on my dad’s birthday – and a day before the anniversary of his passing – is purely coincidental, I know. But it still had me off kilter last week.

Dealing with such anniversaries, up until now, involved “doing normal” – which means cleaning, grocery shopping, doing yardwork, and going to work. That last one – going to work – is what’s had me in a pickle. I go into work, expecting to see her there, and not knowing what to say to her. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know she’s not really going to be there, she’s got too much on her plate right now.) But then there’s also the prospect of hearing all of my co-workers talking about her and her loss. Part of me wants to join in the conversations. The other part of me doesn’t want to listen to the discussions. This anniversary made it all just a little too close for comfort. The usual “doing normal” didn’t seem to be helping.

The funeral did help a bit. There were the usual stories and laughs. (A reminder it’s okay to laugh at some of the memories.) And everyone in the auditorium shed a few tears, which gave me permission to shed a few tears of my own. Yeah, it felt selfish. After all this was for her and her family. But, still, the funeral gave me an excuse to cry a little without having to explain myself.

I think the best part of the funeral came toward the end. He was a firefighter, which – besides the huge crowd at the church (1,000+) – meant a full fire and police escort from the church to the graveside service (for family only) and there were bagpipes outside the church and at the gravesite. They also placed his coffin atop one of the engines and allowed his sons to ride with him to the cemetery.

While the funeral again gave me a bit of closure, I’ve found I needed to allow myself the opportunity to spend the weekend at home, just taking care of myself. Yes, I’m giving myself permission to be selfish.

Week of January 1, 2017 - Widows Are Happier

BY Joan Whetzel

 

I read an article recently about a study of nearly 2,000 widows and widowers in Italy. The study compared these widowed men and women over a 4-year period to see how they coped with the initial loss and widowhood over the next few years.

They study concluded that men were happier and less frail when married because they had wives taking care of them and their household needs. But once widowed, men were significantly more likely to become frail and depressed.

Women, it turns out, were 23% less likely to be frail and depressed after being widowed. Turns out that women are more likely to be stressed and depressed while married and taking care of their husbands, because they find “marriage restrictive and frustrating.”

Not only did they cope better with the initial stress of losing their husbands, the women in the study became much stronger and happier. Those that got jobs – or already had them – were less socially isolated and had greater job satisfaction. And those with higher education and financial levels had an even greater sense of physical and psychological well-being.

I don’t know if I’m as happy as my Italian counterparts, but I have to admit to feeling less stressed and depressed, and my life does feel less “restrictive and frustrating.” Working has definitely reduced my social isolation, and I no longer have that “caretaker” mentality I had when he was alive. I still find the need to remind myself, on occasion, that I don’t have to take his needs into consideration when making lifestyle changes.

I’ve been feeling this sense of freedom that I haven’t felt in a coon’s age. I don’t know if I’d call it happiness or relief. Either way, it feels pretty decent.

Week of December 25, 2016 - Christmas Blessings – Gifts That Come in Unexpected Packages

                                                                By Joan Whetzel

When my husband died, one of the things I knew I’d need almost right away, was a job. I prayed hard for help in this area. I had the good fortune to find AARP Senior Employment Services right away. As they pointed out from the beginning, though, this was NOT a permanent job, but a way to work at one or more host agencies (of a charitable foundation nature) in order to gain job skills and maybe even some contacts with the potential to help me get that job. They helped me find places to apply and offered to help pay for some types of job training or education in order to gain certain job skills.

During this time at AARP, I earned minimum wage for part time services to the two host agencies for whom I was assigned and used and many of my off-hours as possible hunting for that permanent job. The point of this exercise was not just to look for a “job”, and not just to get paid for learning a few basic job skills, but to learn how to make my efforts mean something. Getting as much out of the experience as possible was dependent on my putting as much as possible into the experience.

I picked up many valuable job skills while working at these host agencies (these gifts were delivered in packages I was expecting: copying, scanning, running both a mail-fold-and-insert machine and a mail meter machine, 2 programs used by non-profits to keep track of donors and potential donors, 2 health records programs, and Excel. But even though I learned these skills fairly quickly and was applying to hundreds of jobs, I still wasn’t getting THE job. I prayed harder, sometimes wondering if He was listening. How many times would I hear “No” before I realized that “No” was His final answer?

Still, I received a few gifts that came in unexpected packages. One of the harder lessons, for me, was to go from being a stay-at-home mom and grandma to getting out in the world and working with others. The other hard lesson for me occurred because I was feeling sorry for myself (I just lost my husband and needed to find a way to earn my own money to pay the bills).  Maybe my self-pity was a little bit justified, but I needed to look beyond my own needs and care about others who were quite possibly worse off than I was. I learned (a) ways of working with people who were in the uncomfortable position of needing to ask for help and (b) how to treat them with the dignity and respect they deserved.

I also began to see, at my second host agency, that as soon as I started seeing myself as part of the group effort and aiming my efforts more and more toward the greater good of the clinic and the patients we served, the more I felt like I belonged there. And the more the people I worked with started treating me like I was a member of the staff.

Around Thanksgiving, though, after a couple more rejections from jobs I’d interviewed with, I went back to the prayers. “Alright God, you can see I’ve been fulfilling my end of this job search, and picking up a lot of valuable job and life skills. Don’t get me wrong. The minimum wage and my husband’s pension have gone a long way. But…. What gives? What do I need to do to get a “Yes” here?”

Turns out he wasn’t saying a flat-out “NO.” He was saying “Wait for it! Wait for it!” The first week in December, the clinic (host agency) came to me with a job offer. They hadn’t posted the position on their website or any of the job boards, I didn’t even know the position was available.

It seems because I was willing to pick up the slack in several positions (in both the administrative and clinic end of things), and because I already knew the programs for the health records, check-in/check-out, and appointments setting, they knew that I could be trained quickly for the position. So, for the last 2 weeks I have been training to work their Aftercare Clinic (sort of an urgent care clinic), with my hours from 2:30 to 7 PM (7:30 if it’s busy), 4 days a week. No more minimum wage! Wahoo!

Wait! Wait! It gets better! Last Thursday (Christmas Eve-Eve-Eve), they let me know that they were expanding my position. They will be giving me some additional administrative duties beginning next week, the week between Christmas and New Year. The pay is the same – who gets a raise after 2 weeks, right? – but I will be working an additional 10 hours a week. I’ll be working from 12 noon to 7-ish for 4 days a week. This wasn’t the job I was looking for, but it was most certainly the best Christmas gift - wrapped in an unexpected package – that I ever got. Praise the Lord for answered prayers.

JOAN'S OFFICE: I Must’ve Had a Screw Loose

JOAN'S OFFICE: I Must’ve Had a Screw Loose: By Joan Whetzel Well, my A/C started acting up a few weeks ago. Right in the middle of the October end of our Texas summer (highs 95 ...

I Must’ve Had a Screw Loose

By Joan Whetzel

Well, my A/C started acting up a few weeks ago. Right in the middle of the October end of our Texas summer (highs 95 degrees +/-).  First it developed a clatter. Then it decided it wasn’t going to blow as hard nor as cold as was customary. I even checked out the heater a few times. I was getting some heat, but not at its usual level. Then it quit altogether. And it started again for about 10 minutes. And it stopped. And….

So I had the guys at O’Reilly Auto Parts check it out. It was the blower motor – that part that blows the hot or cold air through the vents. They didn’t have the part but could order it, for 180 dollars!

After watching a YouTube video  that made it look like a quick and easy fix, I decided I was going to attempt this repair myself. It was simply a matter of removing 3 screws, unplugging the wires supplying power and the air flow tube, and letting the old blower motor drop out. Then doing the reverse with the new blower motor. Total time? Approximately 5 minutes.

The hardest part, it appeared, was that the motor could only be accessed inside the car, underneath the glove compartment, which meant spending a few minutes on my knees, on the concrete, and twisting my torso so I could use my left hand to unscrew the screws. This was my first hint of trouble – it was a job for lefties – and people who can stand kneeling for long periods of time on a hard surface – trying to remove screws that hadn’t been removed in 14 years and had no plans for coming out now.

Two hours later, I couldn’t get up off the ground, my knees were screaming, my back muscles cramped up so that I couldn’t straighten myself, and, yes, the screws were still in place. I couldn’t get hold of my son or daughter to come help me because one’s phone was dead ant the other had turned his phone off. Well, my daughter finally came home. 2 ½ hours after I’d started. Of course by this time, I was cussing like a sailor at three stupid screws which I swore up and down I was going to toss into a field somewhere; anywhere where they could never give lick of trouble to another living sole ever again!

Except for one thing. A quick glance at the new blower motor exposed another problem. It came without screws.  So, when my daughter attacked the screws, we made sure to hang onto those (bleep)ing  little parts. It took my daughter 15 minutes to remove them (only because I'd spent the better part of 2 ½ hours loosening them for her). In less than a minute she had the old blower motor out and was replacing the (bleep)ing screws into the new one – yeah, they went in much easier than they came out. A few seconds later she had the wires and air flow hose plugged back in. The blower motor now puts out the usual Arctic Waste and Saharan Summer winds.  

If I’d known that 3 little screws were going to make my Sunday afternoon this aggravating, I might have reconsidered. I almost had myself convinced (for a second) that I had a few of my own screws loose for attempting this repair. But instead, I’ve found it’s made me fighting mad. I am not going to let a seemingly easy auto repair stop me. Next time, I get a repair that looks like something I could do, I’m going after it with a vengeance. This is not going to beat me. One good thing that’s come out of it, though. My daughter’s blower motor was doing the same thing as mine. She knows where the blower motor is and she now knows how to fix it. Next paycheck? We’re attacking a Toyota Matrix.

Oh, and if anyone has a prayer, a good luck charm, or a magic spell for making the removal of stubborn screws easier, send them our way.

Making Life Changes – Taking My Life Back

                                                                        By: Joan Whetzel

November is only few short weeks away, and marks one of those milestones. In just over a month lies what would have been my 37^th wedding anniversary, which falls on Thanksgiving this year. One of my friends at work is getting married 2 days after my anniversary, on a Saturday, just like the year I got married. Yeah, it makes me a little uncomfortable, but I am also looking forward to the wedding because she is such a sweetheart and I really couldn’t be happier for her. In one way it makes me sad to no longer be celebrating my own wedding, but in another, it feels like I’m handing over the reins to someone special. This change, for me, is like letting loose of one of those widow’s milestones that I no longer wish to hang onto, and giving it to someone who will breathe the life back into it, and the happiness, and the blessings. It’s no longer my sad anniversary. It’s her happy one.

I’ve found that my life changes in recent years have come in two forms. The changes that have been thrust upon me, and the changes that I want to make in order to take my life back.

The first few months of widowhood were cram-packed with those changes that were thrust upon me. I hated having all of that “reality” dropped in my lap until I felt like I was being buried alive. I was talking about this with another friend from work, who it turns out was widowed just 1 year before me. Like her, I have come to be grateful now for those piles of changes. If it weren’t for all those changes that needed urgent or immediate attention, I would have caved-in to my deep desire to just crawl into bed and hide under the covers until it all went away. They forced me to get up and take care of all those things that were most definitely NOT going away.

They closed the door to my life as I once knew it. But they also opened a window of opportunity (didn’t look like an opportunity at the time), and unceremoniously shoved through and forced me to make the changes I needed to make my life better. They also showed me I had the strength and courage to make the changes.

My discussion with my newly discovered fellow-widow also pointed out something else to me. Like her, I am at the point where I want to take my life back in other ways. I hadn’t realized just how much of myself I’d given up to take care of others: to raise children, to help my son when he had troubles in high school, to help my daughter when she moved back in with us and went through a particularly difficult custody battle, then navigating my husband’s illness and death. I really need to figure out what my dreams are so I can work them back into my life. And I need to protect my dreams, make sure they stay my dreams.

My friend told me about her dream to buy a beach house in Galveston. Two family members, knowing her funds were more limited than theirs, began looking for a beach house that they would “let” her share whenever she wanted. As good as their intentions were, it felt like they were hijacking her dream. Through a set of circumstances beyond their control, they were unable to buy the beach house. No sooner had their plans fallen through, than the perfect beach house for her presented itself – at the perfect price – on her wedding anniversary.

Part of taking my life back has included changing the dynamics of my relationship with my husband’s family, especially with his mother (a relationship that has never been good). It means spending far less time with them and no longer allowing my husband’s mother to control my life and ignore my boundaries. They don’t like it, but I didn’t expect they would. I have also been finding my own opinion on things – like politics. There have been times when others d0 not agree with my opinion, and would probably like to put me back in my place (e.g. I should agree with them, or remain silent like I used to do).  But it feels good to be able to have an opinion that’s mine, one that’s not dictated to me by others (like the in-laws).

But I know there will be other changes, as I find new dreams and discover ways to follow them. These changes – the ones I choose to take my life back – will be positive. There may be one or two who will disapprove (like my husband’s mother who disapproves of everything). But those who care about me and have my best interests at heart, will be glad and will cheer me on because they’ll know that I’m breathing the life back into my dreams, and the happiness, and the blessings.

The Cat Came Back

By Joan Whetzel

 

When my kids were young, Nickelodeon (T) used to play this short cartoon as a filler whenever their programming was too short to fill out the half hour. It showed the numerous ways this family used to try to get rid of their obnoxious, ornery, destructive cat. It didn't matter what lengths they went to. The cat just kept coming back. The song's refrain, like the cat, is equally obnoxious and keeps  popping back into my  head at the drop of a hat.

 

The Song

            The cat came back
            the very next day 

                        Oh yes, the cat came back

                        They thought he was a gonner

            But the cat came back

            He just wouldn’t stay away

Every time I have problem that recurs, this stupid song starts banging around my head. I’ve had two problems recently that I thought we'd taken care of, but those cats just won’t stay away.

 

The Bees

We had some bees that took up residence along the corner of our roof line. We tried everything we could to get rid of them ourselves, to no avail. The only thing we got for our efforts were some "bleep"-ed off bees. So last year we called an exterminator that took care of bees and hive removal.

At the time, they found out the bees had built a honeycomb in the rafters right where they were entering and leaving. They had to remove a small portion of the roof and siding to clean out the hive, after which they replaced the insulation, the roofing, and the siding. All was great with the world.

Except the cat came back this year. And the original exterminator is ignoring us completely. So, another year another exterminator. The new guy drilled some holes in strategic locations – the key spots where the bees might be trying to build another hive – and inserted a scope to see how much it was going to take to get rid of them. The drones were definitely starting to collect again, but so far, no honeycomb this time.

For $250, he killed them off. If they still appear to be gone today or tomorrow, my daughter and I are going to patch that one corner of the roofing and siding with a cotton plug and some calking. The previous guys were supposed to have caulked all the seams along the front and both sides of the house, to keep the bees out. Apparently. they missed that one spot the bees love so much. With any luck, this will do the trick and that cat will stay away.

 

The Grass

Earlier this spring, my daughter and I dug up the thin strip of grass between our driveway and the side of the house. We transplanted this grass out back of the garage to fill in the bare patch. We’re glad to say that the grass transplants are particularly hearty and have taken off well. We’ve got grass growing like crazy behind the garage.

In the bare strip we planted some juniper bushes and other flowering plants. The petunias and bluebonnets have run their lifecycle, the bougainvillea have started climbing the trellis, and the juniper – while not filling out as fast as I thought it would – has not died.

The problem? The grass keeps coming back. We’ve pulled it out several times, but within 2 weeks, the grass comes back. It just won’t stay away. The grass really loves that strip of land; a testament to the heartiness of St. Augustine grass. It seems to be damned near impossible to get rid of. A few days ago, we got some grass killer spray. We chose a brand that said you could spray it near plants without killing them. We’ve sprayed a test section twice now. So far, it hasn’t harmed the juniper, but it hasn’t harmed the grass either.

Anybody out there with a recipe for grass killer? I am open to suggestions.