A Great Sense of Well Being

Usually, every year when we get our cost-of-living raise, I immediately put it in Thrift Savings. That way, I never had it, and I don’t miss it. This year, with my Thrift Savings depleted more than I could have imagined, I have decided not to put my COL into TSP. Instead, I am planning to spend it on something that makes me feel REALLY good. I hired someone to clean my house. Someone I have seen around for two decades. She has worked for four neighbors who have lived in this neighborhood longer than we have. She remembers when the elusive offspring (yes, him) was a baby.

She came yesterday and brought her sister with her. Her plan is a good one: This week, focus on a deep cleaning of the first floor, which suffers from 7 years of construction dust. Next week, clean the first floor and deep clean the second and third floors. It’s a good plan, but I’m not sure how it will work out. I have a project room that I call “the explosion.” It’s where I dump stuff I don’t want anyone to see (and it’s a terrible mess). I am working on cleaning it out, organizing everything. But it is by no means ready for a maid. The master bedroom WAS ready, but I’m in the process of going through my closets and drawers trying to get rid of stuff. Also, I’ve started to gather Christmas presents in that room. I think I may have her hold off on the Explosion room and the master bedroom.

But it is amazing how good I feel about the first floor right now. It took both of them four hours to clean the living room, the dining room, the family room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. This house is a hundred years old, but not large. It’s just the right size as far as I am concerned. At least it will be when I have finished clearing out all the rooms of 24 years of accumulation. The downstairs looks fantastic. S and her sister scrubbed the kitchen, including walls and ceilings and shelves so that it literally sparkles! Wow! And all the wooden surfaces shine. After they left, I sat down in the living room and looked at the floors. Not a speck of dust, or dog fur to be found. The antique light fixture in the living room is beautiful again!

When S and her sister left yesterday, I hugged them and said they had made me feel fantastic. After the mess made by the first round of remodeling, I had given up trying to keep it under control. Then it just got away from me. And then it was just too overwhelming to contemplate. S has systems. She tackled the job with true gusto! I did a few things downstairs to help (and to make sure they understood how I would like things done), and then I got out of their hair and went upstairs to sort. I could hear them downstairs, talking (mostly in Spanish, a very little of which I understood, but didn’t care), and every once in a while I could hear S laugh. She has the most delightful laugh I have ever heard. I am serious about that! Every time she laughed, I smiled.

Kira wandered around them, even while they vacuumed, unconcerned (although some time I will tell the story about her and the stick). They absolutely loved Kira. Everyone loves Kira.

Anyway, I have two feelings. When I am downstairs in my beautiful, clean, well arranged first floor, I am unbelievably serene. When I am upstairs amidst the mess I have made in my efforts to get this house under control, I am depressed. I want to get to where I have that sense of well-being everywhere in my house. It will happen.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It is probably my favorite holiday of the year. It's all about family, friends, fun and food. My sister says she even likes it better than her birthday. I agree. I like it better than her birthday, too. (hehehe)

OK, Happy Thanksgiving!

All I Want For Christmas

There is only one thing I want for Christmas and it’s very expensive. No, not world peace…I’ve wished for that every year and never gotten it, so I have no expectations of world peace for Christmas. No, it’s not diamonds. Or a big fancy house. Or a different job. I like my life. BUT…I want one thing for Christmas. And, as I mentioned, it’s expensive.

It’s a Kindle…you know, the electronic book reader by Amazon.com. It is $350! And I want it. I love the idea of being able to carry many books at once. I will still want my classic hard books (like all my Jane Austen books, and my poetry, and all the special first editions, etc.). I will certainly still want to hold an actual book in my hands (although the Kindle FEELS like a real book). But this would be for all those paperback books I read and then have to donate to Good Will or find a friend who would like to read them or leave them in the office kitchen for anyone who wants them, all because I don’t have room on my bookshelf. I save my bookshelf space for books I love. A Kindle will hold 150 books! And as it gets full, you can put the books on a ScanDisk or on your computer and then turn around and put more books on the Kindle. I can get every Anthony Trollope book, short story, poem ever published in one download for under $5! How great is that! Same for Mark Twain. I’d still have my hard copies, but I could carry them with me on the Kindle when I travel. I already have a list of books I want to get for it. I really, really want a Kindle. I don’t want anything else. Well, I want world peace, but you know how that goes. Just a little ol’ Kindle.

I told my husband that, if I didn’t get a Kindle for Christmas, it would be the saddest, most disappointing Christmas since I didn’t get that pony.

Do you think I was a little … um … unsubtle?

Justice for All

The Texas State Bar did something very clever. Last year, they sponsored a YouTube contest and invited entries with the theme of justice for all. My favorite video is called “Like Justice for Chocolate” and it is amazing. You should watch this 3-minute video.



The last sentence says it all: “It’s easy to make the wrong choice when you don’t understand what you’re giving up.” Beautifully said.

A Day of Culture

What a day I had Saturday! Leaving my favorite husband at home to do guy things (of course, he likes culture, too, but this was a "Girl's Day Out"), I got to Janet's at 9:30 a.m. and we immediately went to the Strathmore Museum for the Miniatures Collectors' opening. I am astounded by the ability of some artists to create such tiny, intricate paintings. And, of course, once again, I indulged myself by purchasing a beautiful little watercolor...by the same artist whose painting I bought last year! I now have five miniature paintings, collected over the last 18 years. One man who was there when the place opened has collected 200 (yes, 200!) of these paintings over the last 15 years. Janet bought a watercolor of two gray cats sunning themselves. It wasn't one of those "cutesy" paintings you see of cats. It was a beautiful study of light and shadow, with fantastic technique. If she hadn't bought it, I would have. I may have to try my own hand at painting my cats.

Anyway, we left Strathmore by noon and had a light lunch at a vegetarian Chinese restaurant in Rockville, and then headed to the Kennedy Center to hear a young new pianist from Russia, Daria Rabotkina, who is currently pursuing a doctorate from Eastman School of Music. She was very impressive, playing some extremely powerful pieces by Miaskovsky, Rachmaninoff, Prokofiev, and Tchaikovsky. The theme of the performance was the Dies Irae theme that appears in so many classical pieces (including the Liszt Totentanz and Mahler Symphony No. 2, among others). We had great seats overlooking the keyboard, nice and close. I am coming dangerously close to writing a critique, which I don't want to do, but suffice to say she was extremely powerful (oh, yes, I already said that). Of course, these kinds of pieces always impress.

We left the Kennedy Center and drove to a favorite needlework store near Mount Vernon (long drive, but fun). When we left the store, there had been a storm and the sky was gorgeous. Driving up George Washington Parkway (one of my very favorite drives), we saw the most stunningly perfect rainbow over the Potomac. It was a complete arc, and you could discern all of the colors, including purple. I really should keep a camera with me at all times. I don't know what our fascination with rainbows is, but it really got to me. I felt giddy as a child over it!

The drive to Baltimore took longer than usual, but we got there in plenty of time for our 6:30 reservation at our favorite Afghan restaurant, Helmand's. I promise not to write a review, but I do have to say the pumpkin dish was positively mouthwatering.

And then it was to the Lyric Opera House to see the Baltimore Opera Company's production of Bellini's "Norma." I love going to see an opera I have not seen before. It's great to listen to opera, but so much more fun to watch it performed. It's kind of like "collecting" performances, much like Janet's bird-watching ("birding" they call it) expeditions, where they collect bird sightings. It's more cerebral than tangible.

We got out around 11:30, it took us another 20 minutes just to get out of the garage, and then about 30 minutes to get to her house. I didn't get to bed until 1:30 a.m. It was a most excellent day. I feel very cultured. For now.

And So It Begins

This morning, on my drive in, there was a man standing in the drizzle very near my office, with a sign: “Hungry. Please Help.” I didn’t have much time before the light changed, but I did have time to grab a couple of dollars worth of my parking quarters to give him. As I handed him the coins, I got a good look at him. He was probably late 20s, early 30s. Clean (in other words, new to the streets). Articulate (he spoke to me in complete sentences). Polite and grateful (clearly, he hasn’t had to deal with enough rude, uncaring people to turn bitter yet). The light changed before I could talk to him, but I wondered what brought him to this corner of Mass Avenue and Second Street. I could speculate, but why? It’s enough to know that there are more people out on the corners again.

About 15 years ago, there was a guy I saw every night on my drive home. If the light stopped me, I always gave him a little money (usually quarters, sometimes a dollar). If there weren’t a lot of cars behind me, sometimes we talked while I waited for the light. I found out that he had been an anesthesiologist, and had hit hard times. He’d had an accident (he walked with an honest limp), medical bills had piled up, he lost his job because he couldn’t work for a while, then he lost his home and everything else. He was a really nice guy. Chris was his name. He never smelled of alcohol either. I remember that over the months he started standing straighter, wearing cleaner clothing, looking hopeful. He still limped, but he looked great. Then one day he came up to my window and asked me to wish him luck because he was going on an interview that afternoon. And then I never saw him again.

I have no idea whether he got the job, or moved to another corner, or another city, or what happened to him. But I like to think he got that job and got back on his feet again.

A colleague of mine said he suspected Chris “put on a limp” to take advantage of others’ kindness, asking for money he really didn’t need. My colleague thought I was being naïve to “fall for the scam.” But I don’t agree. Why would anyone want to stand on a corner, in bad weather and nice, for everyone to look at, while they ask for money, unless they really had to do it? And really, what’s a few quarters here and there? I spend FIVE quarters on a regular cup of coffee every morning (Starbuck’s coffee is even more). I can do without a cup of coffee to give quarters to someone in need. I like to think that the quarters people gave Chris allowed him to get cleaned up and back to work again. Although I know that not all people in need will get back on their feet, isn’t it worth it to try to help when we can? I choose not to second guess the motivation of a man standing on a corner in the drizzle with a sign that says “Hungry. Please Help.” I choose to forego that first cup of coffee.

I Want To Be A Cool Septuagenarian

The other night I was listening to a local radio station that plays current music, and they played a phone conversation with their “favorite listener.” She was a 70-something. With her funny, raspy voice she said: “I went to the store to buy Linkin Park CD and the sales clerk asked me if I wanted the ‘clean version’ or the ‘dirty version.’ What’s that all about?” The announcer said the “dirty version” had bad language on it. Cool Septuagenarian says: “Oh, like I’ve never heard that before!” And everyone laughs. Announcer says: “Itunes often gives you the option to buy the dirty or clean version and I usually go for the clean version.” Cool Septuagenarian says: “Well, that’s what I did.”

I love this 70-something Linkin Park fan! What else does she like??? Cold Play? Goo Goo Dolls? Cake? I wanna be a Cool Septuagenarian!

But not yet.

Civic Duty

Saturday morning, H and I stood in line at the Arlington Courthouse, along with hundreds of other people, to cast our vote. The polls opened at 8:30 a.m., and we were in line by 8:40 a.m. There were hundreds of people in line before us, some of whom started the line before 6 a.m. It took us an hour and a half just to get into the building, and then another hour and a half once we were in to get to the polling machines. We were fortunate, as we got to the back of the line, to meet a really nice couple in front of us and we spent the entire time talking to them. Carl and Karen are a 30-something African-American couple, and he is Navy. His charm and incredibly quick wit made the time seem to go by much faster. He didn’t say exactly what his job was (except to say that if he told us he’d have to kill us…yeah, you know that old excuse), but he has met almost the entire cast of characters in this election drama, and it was fun to hear/see him imitate Cheney, McCain, Rumsfeld, Powell, and others. He was not disrespectful of them, just funny.

The people in line were very patient, and the poll workers were very pleasant and helpful. In all, there was an air of excitement about this election that I have never seen. When we got into the voting room, there were four electronic machines and three paper voting stations. All four of us chose the paper ballot. Then, when we left, H and I went back outside to check on the line. It was even longer than when we started, and the wait estimate was four hours. Talk about dedication! We think the line was so long because the Courthouse was the only place you could vote early, and Saturday was the last day to do so. On Election Day, there are many polling places, so I’m not sure the lines will be very bad. We’ll find out later.

I imagine that I will be up late tonight, waiting to see the results.