Impulsively, I Started a New Holiday Tradition

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Today I ended up making a Christmas wreath from a few of the storm remnants I found along the sidewalk.

Wasn’t in my plans at all. But the storm scattered evergreen limbs across the yards and streets in my Western Washington town. Sprigs of fresh green pine needles were everywhere! What a waste of fresh greenery, especially at this time of year.

Seeking a Christmas wreath that I both liked and thought worth the price, last week I trudged from store to store. No luck.

While I never before thought about making my own wreath, the lovely storm debris spoke to me. I had to listen. I had to save some.

Typically I’d scan oodles of Googles for “how to” tips on wreath making. Today I thought, “Why research? It will be fun to figure out on my own. Should be simple.”

It was. And it only cost me $10. With planning and leftovers from today’s project, I can easily cut that price in half next time.

While I dropped by Michael’s only for a spool of green florist wire ($1.49), on the nearby peg I discovered a metal wreath frame ($2.99, regular price).

My mind started whirring, “They make a frame for wreaths? Duh…of course they do. And it only costs three bucks?”

Sold!

Instead of my idea of wiring sprigs of pine together, I wove and stuck sprigs around the frame. While I didn’t use the florist wire for the greenery, it was handy for attaching the bargain decorations I found at 60 to 70% off, including red-glittered flowers and the ribbon.

It did take me a few tries to tie a real pretty bow. I ended up using triple layers of the red-and-gold wired ribbon ($2.39 at 60% off).

I meant to have a bow with long tails hanging from the wreath top. But, when I switched form a 1-layer to 3-layer bow, I ran low on ribbon. I do like the short bow at the bottom of the handmade-by-Ann wreath hanging on my front door. I like the wreath too.

So, from this year forth, as the Pacific Northwest wind storms roll in right before the holidays, I’m going to recycle more storm debris and make more wreaths for me, my local family and friends.

Next time, in advance I will Google instructions to help make improved, thicker wreaths.

Meanwhile, I am so glad I didn’t do my normal research and planning this time. The creative I-did-it-all-by-myself discovery process was rewarding. Self satisfying. Refreshing.

A nice way to launch Christmas week.

© “Annsights” Blog, 2010.

What Happened to the Advertised Bargain Price?

It was just promoted there on the screen in large 24-pt. type. Then, when I went to confirm the car reservation, I received the error message: “The price is no longer available.” Say what?

Was it bait and switch?

Having worked in e-commerce and retail for years, I try to give companies the benefit of the doubt and not jump to that conclusion. After all, it was a well-respected travel discount site (one I shall not name, just in case I someday end up with them as a client). The price was promoted by their preferred car vendor, which is also a big brand name.

Perhaps the price changed while I was making my reservation. While it was 9:30 p.m. Pacific time, it was after midnight Eastern time, and I periodically find etailers that cut their deals off at midnight Eastern.

So I went through the reservation process again (and again), and the same low car rental price of $18 per day for $110.24 total, including taxes, came up for the four days in Indy. Each time I went to make the reservation, after filling in all the blanks, the total price increased by $28.51, for a total of $138.75.  (That’s a $23.86-per-day rate.)

So I searched and searched online. Everywhere the lowest care rental rate was at least $23.86/day over this particular weekend at Indianapolis International Airport.

I even tried logging in from different browsers, and then from another computer. I signed up for several frequent rental programs. I signed into various travel discount sites. I input various discount codes. Nowhere could I find anything as low as the advertised $110, including taxes and fees.

Once I had been teased by that rate, I really wanted it. Not just to save money (which is very important at this time), but also because of the principle.

Finally, after doing some mathematical computations, I went to Priceline.com and made an offer of $16 per day for four days, which would come to $108.83, including taxes and all the extra fees. My offer was accepted by Avis Rent a Car, and I prepaid the non-refundable fee.

Since I’m traveling stand by, I really didn’t want to pre-pay for car rental, just in case I can’t catch the flights from Seattle to Indianapolis that I hope to. On stand by, I may end up arriving a day or so later.

With Priceline I negotiated a deal for four days that cost about the same as a three-day rental everywhere else. The deal is perfect for this trip to my family reunion.

But, I’m still disappointed: I really do consider that bait and switch. What a shame. I’ve always trusted that travel vendor.

Usually I would write such a respected company with my concern. But I spent so much time and energy tracking down an equivalent deal, that I won’t this time.

On the brighter side: I just bookmarked www.Priceline.com and plan to name my own pre-paid price in the future.

According to Priceline, my $108.83 deal was 44 percent cheaper ($86.85) than Avis’ lowest published price at that time, which was $195.68. It was $29.92 cheaper than the lowest legitimate total cost I could find anywhere else.

If only Priceline would give me a chance to negotiate the price of my gasoline for this trip.

© “Annsights” Blog, 2010.

Chance Family Reunion After 45+ Years

Last week was filled with awe. Ends up that 97-year-old Fred and his nursing home room-mate were related. I’m not talking about distant relatives, either.

You just have to hear this story.

After Fred’s release from the hospital, the ambulance guys settled Fred into his new bed. Donna’s sitting in the one corner chair, filling out more legal and medical forms for her father-in-law. Darryl is talking to his Dad, Fred. I’m hanging up Fred’s clothes in the closet, while checking which ones still need his name labels ironed on.

In rolls in this guy in a wheel chair: Fred’s room mate.

Someone introduces Fred. The guy repeats the name, then says, “I have an uncle with that name.”

I quickly turn around. He’s got my attention, at least.

After a few moments he says, “My uncle’s wife was Betty.”

I say, “Fred’s wife was named Betty.”

“I’m Bruce. Bucky…..”

Bruce is Fred’s nephew, born in 1939. Bruce has no other family except for Uncle Fred and Fred’s family.  Uncle and nephew lost contact years ago. The last time they saw each other may have been 1963. (No one remembers.)

At age 71, Bucky never expected to see his family again, let alone room with his own uncle.

So Bucky and his baby cousin Darryl (age 48) immediately started catching up on a lifetime of missed family history. (The cousins may have met in 1963 when Darryl was two years old.) I periodically explained to Fred what was going on, since he can usually only follow one person talking one-on-one to him, in his right ear (his only good ear).

And every few moments Bruce paused, saying, “I’m still in shock. You’re my family. I’m with family….”

Can you believe this?

Bruce had only three more days left at the nursing home following nearly 90 days of rehabilitation after surgery, related to childhood polio. He’s moving back home.

Thank goodness Fred arrived when he did.

Some things are just meant to be.

© “Annsights” Blog, 2010.

Withdrawn Proposal

With finality, he looked me in the eyes and said, “I can’t marry you anymore.”

He had been so nonsensical until then. I was overwhelmed with a combination of tenderness and … mirth.

“Fred, you are right. But that’s OK,” I reassured him. “While you are still my main man,  you know I have another man in my life who is closer to my age. It will all work out well.”

Fred seemed to be OK with that. Relieved? Did the 97-year-old have one less thing to worry about?

Moments of clarity have become rare so extremely quickly.  (It was only a month ago, on May 8, that I was able to digitally audio record 45 minutes of war and life stories.)

His talk of marriage actually was one of relative clarity.  He recognized me as me.

Fred has semi-kidded for years that our marriage could be logical. We already loved each other’s company.  Out of love, he wanted to share his benefits with me.

We hugged, kissed and said, “I love you.”

And our eyes twinkled.

There are still good moments. It is important to recall the good moments.

© “Annsights” Blog, 2010.

Battling Dementia

He snapped at me, “Quit that!” I stopped singing and bit my lip.

The way he was, ever-so recently.

Then he did the most beautiful thing. Fred, my 97.5-year-old buddy who was in the middle of a new-to-us kind of dementia episode, seemingly incoherent and totally unreachable for one of the first times since I’ve known him… My Fred with the wonderful blue eyes and crinkled face reached up from his bed, with both hands, cradled my face, and so softly said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I am so sorry.”

At that moment I saw in his eyes the kind-hearted soul of the WWII veteran who has repeatedly told me, “I love everyone… even the Japs. They were under orders from their leaders, just like me….”

© “Annsights” Blog, 2010.

My Cusswords Are …”Peanut Butter!”

Seriously. Ask my friends. Ask those with cubicles near mine. Instead of really cursing, I exclaim, “Oh…Peanut Butter!”

Mom's Garage-Sale "Find"

I only wish I earned a dollar for the resulting peeps of laughter from my cube neighbors. Or for each giggle from a disbelieving niece or a nephew.

“Peanut butter” always works … in a jam. (Badaboom.)

My lexicon used to be much more colorful.

Heck, I worked at an ad agency for three years. At that time, blasts of @#$?!* were pervasive,  as long as no clients were around.

But then I was hired by a Chicago Fortune 50. And I started spending more time around my nieces and nephews. I had to change my exclamations and mumblings.

So in my typical Ann-like deliberate, well-thought-out manner, I considered what I could say.

I Didn’t Want to Say Anything At All That Could Offend

I don’t want to say anything whatsoever that could accidentally be misheard as an offensive word. “Fudge” is just too close, phonetically to another word. How many times has someone said “fudge” and someone (insert “parent” or “child”) responded, “What did you say!”

Nope. Couldn’t have confusion. Needed clarity.

Personally, I don’t likes words related to excrement, even the innocent “poop” or more emphatic “crap.” Ick.

I thought and thought of alternatives, until my moment of total clarity.  Until the epiphany.

Curse words are always needed when there is some sort of jam … some sort of difficult situation. So what works with jam?

“Peanut butter,” of course!

“Peanut butter” does what all the other words do not.

Saying “Peanut Butter” Immediately Starts Diffusing Negative Vibes

Other words re-enforce and escalate the negativity of the situation.

From years of experience I can tell you it is really hard to exclaim “peanut butter!” without starting to get at least a little smile. I found that to be true, even when I broke my little toe last year to the point it was horizontal to the rest of the toes. (Yes, I know. TMI. Sorry, but it made my point.)

Like breaking any habit, switching to “peanut butter” curses doesn’t happen over night. It takes practice.

First I proactively tried to catch myself saying the offending word(s).  With practice, I was able to say “Oh!…” and pause, biting my lip…

But I really wanted… really needed to blurt something to immediately blow off steam, blow out that puff of built-up energy,  work off the irritation, frustration, or express the pain.

By that time I started working on “word replacement.”  I already had practiced enough to get the “Oh!” followed by the pause. So all I needed was to figure out the word to deliberately retrieve and replace other words with.

The act of pausing when attempting to remember to substitute a curse actually starts to make the situation immediately diffuse.

Admittedly, I’ve Done an Unusual Amount of Analysis of Curse Words

As an English Composition major in college, in my Development Of Modern English class (DOME), my senior thesis paper was on the evolution of curse words over time, and based on history, where they may go in the future.

The reason I came up with that topic?

Well, partly the imp in me grinned at the idea of being able to legitimately include every known curse word in one paper. The other reason? My roots.

When I was about four years old, I was in the side yard gleefully descending our huge slide, singing, proudly mimicking the words that I heard Dad exclaim while working on the broken-down family Ford.

Out of the blue, Dad stomped out of the garage and ..errrrrr…. disciplined me. I didn’t know better, at the time.

Eventually I understood that Mom really hated hearing anyone cursing. While living at home, I never cussed again. Still, after I left the house, from time to time when I was around Mom, I would rebelliously exclaim something that truly offended my mother. I felt guilty, but not guilty enough to actually change.

Today, while watching movies, while reading online comments, while listening to both guys and gals talk on their cells, or in store lines, I find myself wincing at the curse words. I even had a colleague at work that spattered conversations with the F word.

Why is that necessary?

I admit to falling back to old habits awhile back. But then I started realizing how I hated the negative overhanging pall that surrounded what I exclaimed, even when I was only with myself.

Peanut butter is a healthier choice. Consider spreading it.

(As for my senior thesis: I was heartbroken to have left my only copy in the classroom. When I finally remembered, it was nowhere to be found. “Oh… peanut butter!”)

© “Annsights” Blog, 2010.

Thankful for the Time We Had

Harold and little Ann shared more than curls.

Today I celebrate fond memories of two McGyver-esque men who could fix just about anything mechanical. (Or so it seemed to me.)

March 28 was the birthdate of both my late dad Harold (1913-1984) and my brother-in-law Randy (1951-1996), whom I loved dearly.

Randy and son working together.

Both died way too early.

When their shared birthday comes around, I try hard to just be appreciative and thankful for the time we did have together.

To recall good memories.

To celebrate their lives.

It does no good whatsoever to waste time dwelling on things outside my control, or theirs. How things could have been different, “if only.”

The fact is that so many positive things have happened ever since their deaths, things that may never had happened otherwise.

Regret attacts negative energy: Celebration attracts positive energy. So I proactively choose to attract positive energy.

I am indeed extremely thankful for the time we had together, and the legacies they left.

Happy birthday Dad. Happy birthday Randy. You made a big difference in my life and in who I am today. You’ll always be in my heart.

Thank you for sharing your lives with me.

(If you’d like, you can read more about Randy.)

© “Annsights” Blog, 2010.