Monday, June 17, 2013

Empty your vases while you may, for roses may be calling

The other day I was walking from the post office toward home when a couple with a dog offered to sell me some elderly roses they'd almost certainly swiped from someone's yard. I happily paid a dollar & then even more happily declined to buy the woman a pack of cigarettes. The roses cheered up my house, while dropping their petals. I finally decided they were done. Good job, roses, I said, as I put them in the trash & washed the vase.

Then I went to the post office. (A common theme...) As I was leaving, the man who takes care of the grounds was out trimming the foliage. I made a u-turn to tell him what a good job he always does. For that, he said, you get a rose. 

It was a knockabout rose, he told me, which blooms all summer & is very fragrant. I offered the opportunity to many noses, including a bridal brigade which had just jumped off a brick wall as part of a photo shoot. I also made another u-turn near a new burger joint, where a woman's laugh & good energy had caught my attention. I told them why I had stopped & complimented her on her energy. She said I had no idea how important & timely my comment was, because it hadn't always been the case. She said she felt as if an angel had stopped by her table. I laughed & told her a friend of mine (Eric Heideman, in case he's reading this) had told me once that I was an angel in disguise. I'd told him it wasn't a very good disguise, was it?

But this isn't about little ole angelic me. This is about letting go of old bouquets when they've given up their fragrance. Wash your vases, my darlings. Be ready for the next bouquet.

Someone nominated my blog as a favorite on Grammarly, & I will take it with a grin, & perhaps chagrin. Are they saying YAY, way with words or, Sheesh, that girl could use Grammerly. Either way, I accept with a bow. Thank you, unknown nominator. Thank you, Grammarly. I even have a coffee date with Nick (no, not my Nick, the Grammarly Nick) in foggy San Francisco. (Yes, Nick, I accept, & will keep you apprised of my movements. When I approach your fair -- or foggy -- city you will be 5th or 6th to know. After Nick & Chloe & Luke & Rachel & Ellen & Debbie & -- well, you'll be in the top 10. Grin.)

I've since found out what the scoop is: Here's what you need to do to get your gift voucher: 
1. Paste the following text into the top of your next blog post: "I used Grammarly to grammar check this post, because [insert clever/funny reason here]." (e.g. "because time spent proofreading is time spent not writing!")

I had to regretfully tell the other Nick that I am an old school grammar girl. I cut my baby teeth on grammar & was happily diagramming sentences in 8th grade for Mr. Jackson. (The dreaded (by other students) red book...) So, I'd have to say "I didn't use Grammarly to grammar check this post, because I love grammar -- almost indecently. But if you don't love grammar as much as I do, you may want to give it a try. (Besides that, I like to mess with grammar -- put a blindfold on it & spin it around until it's dizzy & send it off to pin a dependent clause on the donkey. Grammar checkers would be thinking I was making a mistake when I was being clever. Or at least thinking I was...)"

So here I am, breaking the rules in 2 ways: Grammarly mentioned at the bottom of the post instead of the top & me not using it. C'est la vie. Grammarly has 3 million users, according to not-my-Nick, so I expect he's going to go broke buying all that coffee. I don't need a gift certificate anyway, although I won't turn one down if they decide rules were made to be broken by grammar girls.

A long post, I know. Time to bid adieu from Somewhere, Nebraska. Finally, a hotel with great outlets! One of those little hutchy desk things with outlets built in & also an outlet on the wall above the night stand, so one can plug in ones phone & ones computer & work from bed. Yay!

Blog alternative:
263. Empty a vase. This could be literal or metaphorical. What are you hanging on to that may be ready to be released? Make space for post office roses.

Friday, June 14, 2013

So much depends on the blue wheelbarrow

I should have put in a picture of my toenails. Why? Because Tuesday I had a spontaneous spa day. I already had a haircut scheduled & was planning to stop in at Tops to replace the shoes that I've literally blown out I've worn them so much. Then Satori (the young woman who lives downstairs) needed a ride to work -- it's walking distance, but she hadn't allowed quite enough time & would have had to run in her cute but impractical shoes. Instead of doing all of my several things by walking, I gave her a ride, did a few car-ish errands, reparked in my usual space & walked downtown.

Have you ever had a 3-minute shoe shopping expedition? I highly recommend it. I wore my blown out shoes into the store, showed one to the woman at the first counter. She directed me downstairs. I looked around for 2 seconds & decided to just flash the shoe as soon as the man in the pink shirt finished helping the woman next to me. "Alas," he said. "They don't make those any more -- but give me a minute." He came back with a single shoebox & I put on the Jambu Blossoms -- with stitching the perfect color for the dress I am wearing to Nick & Chloe's wedding (you may be familiar with it, as it is the same dress I wore to Zach & Tiffany's wedding) & danced out of the store in them. Not without paying a reasonable amount first.

Then, because the shoe shopping only took 3 minutes, I decided to see the Aveda salon where Satori works. So cool. She gave me a tour & I had a sudden urge to have a facial -- & then a sudden urge to add a pedicure. They were able to schedule me right after my haircut, which was on the next street. Even with a tour of L'eau de Vie, I got to Eclipse (my darling goddess stylist Casi!) early & they gave me a glass of wine while I was waiting.

New shoes, glass of wine, hair cut, pedicure, facial -- a girl can just swoon. Either that or walk home...

I would tell you to schedule a spontaneous spa day, but then it wouldn't be spontaneous, would it? So instead I will tell you to be open to the possibility of treating yourself as if you are the queen or king of your life. Soak your feet in a little tub of warm water & something that smells good -- even if you have to raid the spice cabinet. Oh, do a little olive oil & sugar rub. Mmmm.

I am in Somewhere, Kentucky, right now. Free wi-fi & a fridge & microwave. Now if only I had something to cook. I did the most brilliant job of packing my car ever. Snacks that stay in the car. Snacks that come into the hotel room. The suitcase, which stays in the car until I'm going to be somewhere for more than one night. (Which doesn't include Somewhere, Kentucky.) A canvas bag with a few clothes that do make it into the one night stopovers. You get the idea. I even put the ice in my cooler in little zipper bags & it was still mostly frozen so I just popped the bags into the little freezer compartment & will not have to refill them from the nearby ice machine.

I think I can fall asleep now, so I shall close, even though I have more to say. Another post...

Blog alternative:
262. Pick a body part & treat it well. Your feet, perhaps.