Category: Life Topics

Life Topics

Wiped

Jo Toale

I deleted someone’s video card by accident the other day.  I felt horrible; actually drenched with guilt.  How could I have done that?… I questioned.  Someone’s work just gone without explanation.  How will I explain this to them?  I was trying to be efficient, I downloaded the clips I needed and just wiped the card clean.  I was concerned.  Did I do this on purpose?  Was it just unexplained human error?

Maybe I was wiped.  Tired.  Overworked. Wiped out like the video card.  Can a person’s brain be too full?  Am I doing too much?   Are we so bogged down, that we can only see what is right in front of us?  I felt like at the moment, my work was more important; at least subconsciously.   I had a mission, a checklist of things I had to get done.  And, I got it done.  Good for me.  But, there are others to think about.  And I didn’t think…at least not for more than a moment.

Job, kids, spouses, etc. keep us on our toes.  Juggle or fail.  Avoid getting wiped out, or the rest of the dominos fall.  Well, I caused someone else’s dominos to fall.  And, for that I am sorry.  I don’t know to what extent I effected them, but their work was gone and I was the reason.

I was forgiven, when I confessed my error.  But, I know it was just because I’ve been wiped out.  I couldn’t honestly explain that to her without being achingly vulnerable.  I matter-of-factly stated what happened and waited for a response.  I hated myself for being so detached, when inside I felt horrible.  She accepted the situation and moved forward.

I’m trying to make it rain in my personal life, my professional life and everything in between.  There’s no room for error, especially when the error effects others.  I have to avoid being wiped.  Being tired or complacent reeks of failure, a situation I have to avoid.  Keeping others in mind is as important as the breath that I take, and I have to remember that.

I have learned from my mistakes.

 

Life Topics

These days

Susan McLaughlin

It is the light she seeks these days

Passing me over, not even a side glance

She walks towards the glistening until it tickles her face

When her gaze has moved from the dark

Her eye lids gently shut to transform the light into something less assaultive to her brain

She is awkwardly still, as if anticipating a warm embrace

she no longer tolerates from me these days

Perhaps I have become dull from what I seek

On rare occasions she invites me with a tug

Trying to drag my heavy body from the brine to see what she feels

An invitation I decline

It is not enlightenment I seek these days

Life Topics

The Octapus and the Squid

Jo Toale

Foodie Saturday Field Trip (FSF): Wegmans

Jamie and I decided to reduce our cabin fever by taking a ride to Wegman’s yesterday.

It had everything the heart desires, where dishes come true.  We loved the amazing selection of seafood and meats.  And, don’t get me
started on cheese, which my son once said, is,”like heroin for women”. I may need to go to rehab.

I had eaten a couple of Eggo waffles before take-off and was somewhat satisfied. I’ve learned the hard way, not to go shopping on an empty stomach. But, this wasn’t shopping, it was a food fantasy. If I hadn’t eaten, it would have been pure gluttony.  This crossed my mind at the checkout, as I realized if I was hungry, the bill could have the potential to challenge the national debt.

Our first ride was at the sushi counter. The color of the sashimi was so bright, it was like twinkling lights. The only time I’ve seen sushi that fresh was when a store most likely bathed it in sulfa. This was the real deal. There was a silent stand-off between getting the tuna or salmon, which ended in compromise.

We were ready to tear ourselves away from the sushi station when a little girl, maybe 9 yrs old, said to her mother, “look Mommy, a
squid.” I turned and gave Jamie a gourmet-smirk, and cued eye rolling.  There in the case sat a fresh octopus, clearly
marked in black magic marker lettering (on a piece of wood for authentic presentation) OCTOPUS.  Don’t get me wrong,
I love children. I especially love children that can read.  But my youngest son wasn’t much older than her when I brought an
octopus home for dinner. He was like a little Shackleton, braving the tentacles and figuring out how to not only cook it, but survive the
experience.  He cooked it, ate it and loved it.  I chickened out.  The dog ate the head.

Artisan Delights
Someone should dust off the merchandise

The alluring light emitted from the hundreds of cases was almost too much to handle. It was like the opposite of a magnetic force field. We spent some time examining the different kinds of pate. Jamie is going to make a Beef Wellington, and a pate lined crust is critical.  Each pate looked like the other, but I felt the need to look like I was discriminating. They didn’t have what he was looking for, and we both found ourselves looking at the section below pate, to the caviar. He asked me if I wanted caviar, and again, I felt an air of snobbiness come over me. “Not really” I said. I thought that if you were going to buy caviar, shouldn’t it come from Moscow, Paris or New York? The packages looked fancy enough, but I pictured myself in a cashmere cape, strolling into a little shop in Paris taking samples, and politely ordering a generous quantity for a dinner party with a few of my classy French friends.  We slowly backed away from the pate, and let the crowd lull us to our next target.

There is so much to write about the experience, but I encourage anyone who is feeling frozen and hold-up in their house to go and check it out. You don’t have to be on a pate mission, or looking for anything you can’t pronounce. Just have fun, pick up dinner, and most importantly DO NOT GO ON AN EMPTY STOMACH.

Life Topics

A Sleepy Sermon

Jo Toale

Easter Sunday approaches with dew in the air and buds on the trees.  The day brings friends and families together to celebrate the unofficial arrival of Spring.  Candy dishes are full of jelly beans and the chocolate bunnies sit on the counter with a shocked look on their face.  Easter baskets are long gone, as far away as the kids live now.  No need to put them out.  The religious enjoy the spiritual meaning of the holiday.  Us?  Well, we attend Mass and would actually like to eat our jelly beans while listening to a good sermon, but that might be frowned upon.

Every since we got back from vacation, we started to attend Sunday Mass.  I don’t know why, but I thought it was the right thing to do.  Growing up Catholic, we both were religiously educated and received most of the sacraments.  And, as we got more and more involved in life, kids and work, that part of our life slipped away somehow.  Some people do a good job incorporating spirituality and life, but obviously we weren’t one of them.  There always seemed like there was something else we had to do, or a place we had to go instead.  Church didn’t fit into our schedule.

So here we are, a month into re-introducing ourselves to religious ceremony.  Sermons are good, people are nice, but the benches are hard.  We usually arrive early and just relax before the organ signals showtime.  Looking around, we notice a lot of people we know.  Feels kinda’ homey.  We’ve even started to be recognized by the Pastor.  It’s all about who you know, even at church.  The choir starts singing a song that he recognizes, but I don’t.  I know most of the prayers, but the hymns are touch and go.

My eyes start to droop.  We woke up super early to go to the 8am Mass, and it’s just hitting me  now, that this is actually the middle of my night.  Good Lord, 8am!  How can any sane person, or sane Catholic be to church so early?  My head drops and I’m out like a light.  Let the snoring commence.  Right here while Father Anthony gives his weekly sermon.  My companion nudges me awake and I’m incredibly embarrassed.   I’ve made a commitment to my religion, but can’t stay awake for it.  I’m going to burn in Hell.

I ask him if the sermon was nice, as we walk to the car.  He said it was.  We drove to get coffee and had a few laughs.  I really felt bad for sleeping, especially when I was looking forward to a little Catholic wisdom dropped on me.  Now, the only option I have, with my little problem, is a secondhand sermon.  Shorthand.  So why go at all, if I wasn’t going to get anything out of it?

So, I made a decision. If I was to continue to go to church, I wouldn’t go to the 8am Mass anymore.  The odds of falling asleep were just too high.  I can attend the 10:30am Mass and do just fine.  I will stay awake.   I will open the missalette and follow the hymns I don’t know.   I will pretend to know the prayers that I don’t.  I will listen to the sermon and try to be a good Christian.  What more can I do?

Easter is here and it’s Spring!  Whether you are religious or not, enjoy time with your family.
Don’t eat too much candy, and remember to get enough sleep.

Life Topics

If I Could See

Jo Toale

You ask and I tell
How are you?  How was your day?  How is it going?
If I could see what you mean, what you want.
I could answer.

Questions so familiar cloud what’s real.
Do you really want to know?
Do you want to see me?
Do you really want to feel what I feel?

If I could see, it would be easy.
You would be so vulnerable in front of me.
You would ask in a way I could answer.
But no.
You take the easy way out, the familiar.
So superficial

I’m frustrated with a job half done.
I’m discouraged by roadblocks.
I’m sad for those who have less,
and sadder for the pathetic who
have more.

If I could see where you are coming from,
it would be worth sharing.
Do you really care how I am?
It’s easier to turn my face.

If I could see who you are, I would
tell the truth.

Life Topics

Reconnecting

Jo Toale

Reconnecting with the world.

The other world, the “Elementary School” world, the
world that existed before today.  The place you forgot about
from long ago.

So many stayed in touch, kept connect to the past and the present.
I couldn’t do that.  It seemed too complicated to have a foot in both
worlds.

It was always a dream that happened a long long time ago.  A place
of playing Chase at dusk and playing until you were too exhausted
to stay outside.  A place of boyfriends and late-night partying with
the people you loved the most.  Needed the most, cherished the
most.  TRUSTED the most.

It was a place before my husband, my lifetime lover, my children, my work,
my nieces and nephews.  A place that became faint and unfamiliar, until…I realized
I needed it…I needed to reconnect.  I needed to reintroduce myself, to myself.

Facebook has connected me with people who knew me when life was simple.
Knew me with bruised knees and old warn out sneakers.  Real Blonde hair with
a simple barret holding it out of my face. Spent time laughing about silly things
and silly people.

They’ve always been there running through my mind, like a whisper in the back
of my head.  It took many years to realize that a piece of my story included my
early life, the life with the first friends that I ever made.

So, I finally reconnected with several elementary school friends, and some high
school friends.  What does this mean?  It means my story finally has a beginning
that I ignored for a long time.  For too long.

To all you who’ve I reconnected with, I THANK YOU, and you know who you are!
I feel as giddy as the first grader with the bruised knees and worn out sneakers.
Ready to play chase, or at least share stories of our children playing chase.

Things are different now, but in a way they are the same.

Life Topics

Wait, What?

Jo Toale

FOR THE LOVE OF DOG

 

The love of a dog is nothing like the love of another Human.  Nothing. Wait, what?

 

There is an objective to find the companionship of another being; not a lover, not a friend.  No. Wait, what?

A decision is made by one or two, to find the creature to fill a void, to add to the family.  Family, Yes. FAMILY.

They are not a peripheral entity, no, they are part of the family.  They occupy a piece of the heart, wait, yes. The heart.

I wonder if I take you home, will you want to be here?  Am I a good Mommy?  Scratch, rub, hug, wait, what?
Trust me I do love you.  More scratches?

Eat, scratch, lick, love, hugs, and more hugs.

Adopt the baby puppy…they want to be loved.  They need YOU.

Wait, what?

Life Topics

Your Heart

Jo Toale

The eyes see what they want to see.

The heart feels what it can handle.

The hands hold only what it can grasp.

What is the limit?  Is there a limit to your
love, your feelings?

Talk to your heart, ignore the head, if you’d like to sing.
Logic will only bring you black and white, the stark obvious.

Hold yourself, like a lover…arms warm and safe.  Bring
yourself the immense healing of the heart.
The eyes, and hands will follow.

Love thy self.

Life Topics

Path of Destruction

Jo Toale

Disclaimer, Warning, Attention

These are words in the English language that are sometimes ignored, just like the Agree Box that we check after we were supposed to read the disclaimer and agreement page before downloading software.  It seems like we are bombarded with things that require your attention a few levels deeper than your average daily activity.  Who wants to stop and read a warning, or disclaimer?  I know I don’t.  I’ll take my chances I usually shrug while I sit at my computer.  I’ve got several web browser tabs open, as well as Excel, Word and Email.  I’m not slowing down for something that ultimately doesn’t effect me.  I don’t change my working path for anything, unless it’s about the new dog. That special cute puppy who has decided to enthusiastically tear apart something special, something I love, or anything – JUST ANYTHING – of value.  McDermott cannot be ignored.

My puppy sits under my desk while I work, if he’s not busying himself with destruction.  I look down at his face, and he looks at mine, then nothing.  No acknowledgement from either of us.  I’m still thinking about my Excel sheet, and McDermott, undoubtedly, is thinking about his next “victim.”  We look away and keep working – me on the budget, him I assume on a rug in the next room that looks delicious. He has so many targets in one day, that there really is no guessing what will be ruined next.  We try to protect shoes by putting them up high or, closing closet doors to evade roaming sharp baby teeth.  This doesn’t help.  As I finish work, and look down at the floor in my office, he is chewing a plant.  All my efforts to puppy-proof my house and the plant gets wasted.  I’m done guessing.  I’ll have to play a measured game of defense, while taking deep calming breaths.

Here is a Disclaimer that should be read by anyone getting a puppy: “Please be aware that this cute little furry creature is not what it appears to be, AND has the ability to destroy everyday common house items including, but not limited to, blankets, pillows, socks, plants, table legs, wall baseboards, shoes, boots, remote controls, bed spreads, couches, newspapers, and computers.   We knew that a puppy would be a challenge, but there’s no puppy like McDermott.   He has a bed full of chewy toys to satisfy is biting instinct, but instead he savors fine shoe leather and well-constructed snow boots.

Warning: if you take your eyes off him at any point of the day, you’re a sucker.  And, he knows it.  This is where the crate comes in handy…or is SUPPOSED to come in handy.  This wonderful cushy little secluded paradise (as some owners describe it) is his bane.  He absolutely hates the crate and therefor for a long time, I hated the crate.  Not anymore.  I use the crate like an over exhausted mom, getting a break from her kids.  In he goes if I need a break from removing couch fabric from his mouth, or when he gets an attitude that causes him to bite me freely.  The crate is my best friend.  All that is required is a treat and a little covert planning.

Attention is the calming factor that can’t be ignored.  If McDermott is getting enough attention, life is good.  There is a clear correlation between belly scratches and the level of strewn objects throughout the house.  However, even with attention this little creature gets a look in his eyes that says, “what can I get into?… what can I tear apart?”  We know that following this calm period, there will be demolition of some kind.  You can bet on it.

Bottom line is, we are going to see McDermott through this very difficult stage.  After all, Scout our beloved Hound went through a similar stage and he turned out to be an amazing dog.  I guess we ought to give McDermott the same chance.  Sure, we’ll be shoeless, and have half a couch to sit on.  OK, we can always sand down the teeth marks on the baseboards and re-stain them.  Hey, I never liked that shirt that’s now in shreds.  Why not buy more plants? With a firm hand, an open heart and a butt-load of patience we should bring McDermott to full maturity, preferably alive.  After all, between us, we’ve raised 4 children (none of which have pets today). How hard could a dog be?