It’s actually NOT a misunderstanding

I ran to the grocery store the other day—my old store, not ALDI—to pick up just a few things that ALDI doesn’t carry. I grabbed one of the wee carts and start blasting around the perimeter, as I do. The one thing I really miss about this particular store is the music. I don’t even register what ALDI plays, if anything. The HVAC unit in there is so obnoxiously loud that the Pride of Troy could be blasting away in the meat section and we wouldn’t hear it. But the fancy store…they play good music.

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Twenty-five in Twenty-five

Two years ago, after listening to a podcast I love, I sat down with a dear friend to create our “23 in ‘23” lists. Twenty-three things we each wanted to accomplish in 2023. We did this in January of ‘23 so we were actually working with a little less than a year, but it was ok. The podcast hosts encourage listeners to include some stretch goals, of course, but also save room for the easily attainable. That way one doesn’t get discouraged as the year goes on.

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The Art of Letting Go

My deep contemplation of letting go began in earnest in late 2019 when I signed up for an online decluttering class and, over the course of the next year, excavated my home to dismiss a bunch of crap that was simply weighing us down. Releasing physical objects is perhaps the easiest kind of letting go.

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Two-Thirds Birds

After several weeks of family members, friends, and colleagues approaching me cautiously with wide eyes and gentle demeanors, grasping me softly by the arm, leaning in, and whispering, “How are you doing? Are you okay?” I think it’s time to come clean.

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Out of the Shadows, Finally

When I was in grade school and middle school, I collected cats. Not the real ones, mind you, although I’d have been thrilled to collect those, too, had my parents allowed it. Cat figurines were my jam. I had dozens and dozens of them. So my dad, being the handy guy that he was, built me a shadowbox. It was all the rage in home decor at that time for people to use old letterpress printer’s drawers, those wooden racks that held the pieces of metal type printers would carefully arrange in a tray for the press to ink and print newspapers and flyers and bulletins. They were expensive, if I remember correctly, and somewhat hard to find due to being all the rage. Plus the slots were tiny and some of my cats weren’t. 

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The Call of the Commode

There comes a time in every runner’s life (well, walker, in my case), where you are convinced you will crap your pants or be forced to leave a deposit on a neighbor’s lawn, because your bowels simply do not have the fortitude to make it back home in time to use your own toilet.

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