Cheryl's Musings & Updates

I've moved, and so has my blog

2012-01-12T13:53:00.002-06:00

It's a new year and my blog has a new home (as do I). Visit me at

http://tembrooke.net

Can you hear me now?

2011-03-29T16:52:00.003-05:00

Today, there are more options than ever to communicate with businesses. Between help lines, contact forms, email options, Twitter, Facebook, and live chat, there should be no problem getting a message to a company. So I find it more than a little annoying that, despite all these innovations, it’s still near-impossible to get anyone to actually LISTEN to you.

I’ve run into this issue more than once recently (as my LOFT posts will attest). I’ll spare you the McDonald’s story and relate today’s incident with AT&T, which prompted me to write this post.

I was on their website to pay my bill, which I accomplished easily enough. While I was there, I saw a tab for Marketing Preferences, and I thought, “Wonderful! I can tell them to stop sending me offers in the mail every other week.” But, as it turns out, that tab is only for email preferences. Undaunted, I looked for contact options. Surely there must be a way to tell them not to send me all these letters, right?

Wrong.

The contact options are a maze of predefined choices. Want to send a message that doesn’t fit those categories? You’re out of luck. Oh, I’m sure I could have called, but I’ve been down that road before. I don’t want to spend 30 minutes getting passed from rep to rep today, thank you.

The real irony is that AT&T currently has a contest to promote their paperless billing option. They’re giving away $15,000 for the sake of getting your statement to you via email, but persist in sending promotional letters and cards to customers who don’t want them. So much for their commitment to the environment.

Companies need to learn that communication channels that don’t work might as well not exist. People want to be heard, and communication needs to be on the customer’s terms, not yours. I’d much rather have one efficient way to tell you what’s on my mind than half a dozen options that only let me express the messages you want to hear.

Where Are You Going?

2011-01-14T13:18:00.003-06:00

Where Are You Going by Dave Matthews is one of my favorite songs -- and for some time now, it's been the $64,000 question, so to speak. After Hurricane Katrina, my parents and I decided that New Orleans was no longer a good place to be and that we would relocate as soon as we were free to do it (translation: after my grandparents died). We debated a lot about where we would go. I wanted to return to my adopted home of Raleigh, North Carolina; I'd only been gone a few years at that point and still had friends and contacts there. My Dad wanted someplace farther south, closer to the family, and suggested Huntsville. In the end, Nashville was the middle ground, the compromise we all liked: big enough to find work, close enough to my beloved North Carolina mountains to make me happy, close enough to family to make us all feel secure. The decision was made -- we just had to wait.

Then the drama started. A few members of Dad's family live near Nashville and have been embroiled in some serious conflict. (There have recently been court proceedings. It's not pretty.) Suddenly, Nashville seemed much too close to the craziness. We reopened the great relocation debate last summer and took Nashville off the table.

A couple of months later, my cousin Kristi had news: she had a job interview with a college in Asheville, NC. We had been discussing North Carolina since I'd gotten a lot of work last summer from my contacts there. It seemed like fate, the obvious answer: we'd go to Asheville. But the Universe was playing tricks with us and the job lead turned into a red herring: Kristi was their second choice, and the relocation debate was once again wide open.

Just contemplating the question seemed overwhelming to me. Even limiting our choices to three states (Tennessee, North Carolina, and South Carolina), with the additional restriction that it had to be no more than 8 hours from Dad's family in Meridian, didn't help. There were too many possibilities and the decision was too big. What if we didn't like the place? What if we chose wrong?

I brought up the question with Dad at lunch today -- told him the little bit of research I'd done, the few cities I'd marked for study -- and I asked for his thoughts. And in a wonderful bit of fatherly wisdom and insight, he said "Why don't we think about Nashville again?"

Okay, maybe he didn't say it quite like that. But something in our conversation led us to that question, and he said that we can't let the family drama keep us from our best choice. And suddenly, it all seemed so simple and obvious. We know we like Nashville. We have good family in Nashville. We can find work in Nashville. And it's closer to Meridian than anything else I was considering.

So. I think -- I hope -- that the question may finally be answered.

I think we're going to Nashville.

It's a card!

2010-12-20T16:51:00.006-06:00

But not just ANY card...

It's a personally autographed card from one of my favorite authors, Sophie Kinsella! YIPPIE!!!

I won a contest, making me one of 100 lucky fans to receive a personalized card from Sophie Kinsella. I think this has to be the coolest promotion EVER, even if I did have trouble explaining to Mom exactly why I was so excited. (Mom: "Is she as famous as the woman who wrote Harry Potter?" Sigh.)

Cheryl 2, Wicked LOFT manager, 0

2010-12-20T15:19:00.002-06:00

Turns out there's another happy ending to the whole LOFT return debacle. I got a letter in the mail today apologizing again for my inconvenience and thanking me for "giving us this opportunity to improve our service." Wow. I think this is the first time anyone has ever thanked me for complaining! (Apparently, a six page fax really gets attention from the Customer Service department.) They also included a small gift card and said that "your experience will be shared with the appropriate District Manager and Regional Vice President for additional review and follow-up with the store team." Ha!!! Take that, Wicked store manager! I think this part of the apology pleased me more than anything, because that store manager was putting her associates in a terrible position, having to quote and enforce a rule contrary to the company's stated policy. I feel like I struck a blow not only for every customer who's tried to return an online purchase to that location, but also for the poor associates who undoubtedly endured a lot of heat from unhappy customers. I think both customers and saleswomen will have a much happier holiday now.

Brand betrayal, service breakdown

2010-12-03T19:05:00.010-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, I ordered three pieces from LOFT, the store that used to be my favorite shopping destination. Admittedly, when I'm looking for tops or sweaters, I'm better off going to the store, because sometimes their tops look amazing on me and sometimes they pull at the bust, and I'm never really sure what size I should get. But after being lured by a 30% off coupon, I decided to take a chance, secure in the knowledge that if the pieces didn't work, I could return them to the store.

The clothes ended up being a total disappointment. The blue sweater had shoulder seams that inexplicably went an inch past my shoulders. The beet sweater had exposed seams that weren't mentioned in the description; my honest-to-God first impression was that the sweater was inside out, and when that theory went bust, my next thought was that it must be defective. (Turns out it wasn't. It just looks like it.) And the long-sleeve tee fit in the body, but strangely enough, not in the sleeves, which were so tight from the elbows down that they rippled.

In short, none of it looked right.

So Wednesday night, I took a detour to the LOFT on my way to choir rehearsal -- easy enough to do since the store is in an exterior strip on the outskirts of Lakeside Mall. And that's when things got worse.

The store clerk began checking the tags on each sweater and typing numbers into the computer -- something that puzzled me since normally they scan the tickets and consult the receipt. "We can't take this back," she finally said, referring to the navy sweater. "It's an online exclusive. You have to mail it back."

I was shocked. I've shopped at LOFT, both in-store and online, for years. I'd always been able to do returns in-store. She said that it was a new policy and she was sorry. She processed the other two items and I left the store, still in possession of the blue sweater and feeling betrayed by a brand I trusted.

It gets worse.

When I got home Wednesday night, I immediately went to my computer to review my order confirmation, wondering how I'd missed this new policy and kicking myself for not reading the fine print. The order confirmation had no specifics about policy, just a link to the Returns page on the website.

The website had no information about this new policy. None. At all.

Feeling vindicated, I typed out an email to Customer Service and explained the situation. How could they expect me to pay return shipping based on a policy that wasn't disclosed before my purchase?

Friday afternoon, I got a response: the exact verbiage from the website, pasted into an email. The same information I had specifically told them I'd already consulted. The same information that completely failed to address "online exclusive" merchandise.

I was furious. Clearly, they hadn't even read my question -- just looked at the subject and pasted in the standard response. I immediately shot back a simple, blunt reply: "You have NOT addressed the issue I raised. Did you even READ my question?"

Then I printed out both emails, the return policy, and a request for a legitimate answer, and faxed the whole thing to LOFT customer service.

Within twenty minutes I had a new email stating that the policy hadn't changed and I should take the item back to the store -- an answer which agrees with the website but not the store associate or the printed receipt that was delivered with the clothes. I sent yet another email, asking for further confirmation and quoting the receipt. I had two contradictory statements in writing, I told them; which is right?

I'm still waiting to hear back. I don't know what they'll say, or if I'll like the answer. But I do know that LOFT has bungled this transaction to an incredible degree, not only inconveniencing me but making me feel like they just don't care about me as a customer. They don't care if I'm happy; they just want to close out this transaction using the least amount of energy possible. I have more clothes by LOFT than any other brand; ironically, I'm wearing LOFT from head to toe as I write this post. I'm a walking, talking, Outfit-of-the-Day-photograph-posting advertisement for their store, giving them free press on my Flickr site and my fashion challenge page. I'm their target demographic and their ideal customer. They had me at Hello.

And they still just don't care.

UPDATE, Saturday 12/4: Customer service says again that store associate was confused and should have made the return. I'm going to try again tomorrow and see what happens. (Thanks to Heather H. in Customer Service for making me feel like they do actually care, at least a little bit.)

UPDATE, Sunday 12/5: Went back to the store, armed with my emails. When I said I had a return, they started to give me the same spiel and I told them I'd spoken to Customer Service who had confirmed that the stores take back everything but swimwear & maternity -- and I told them I had the emails with me. They did the return with no fuss. It sounds like the store manager is trying to set her own policy, which I think is a risky proposition and very bad for the brand. But I'm glad I stood up for myself.

A Match Made in Heaven

2010-11-07T20:15:00.004-06:00

I've been a little reluctant to share this news for fear of jinxing it, but -- my cousin Freddy Chancellor has found a kidney donor! We got the news roughly a week ago. The transplant surgery is scheduled for tomorrow (Monday). So we're relieved and hopeful that everything will go smoothly. We were beginning to worry that he'd never find a good match. Clearly that was just a test of faith.

He'll need several weeks to recover from the surgery and regain his strength, but I think that will be a breeze compared to all the waiting and worrying. We'll be thinking of him tomorrow and praying he'll be back on his feet soon! Thanks to everyone for the good thoughts and prayers that Freddy would find his match.

October 1: Looking back and looking forward, post 15:30

2010-10-01T19:50:00.003-05:00

It's hard to put into words what the last 30 days have been like and what they've done for me. Yes, the challenge was hard, but not for the reasons you might think. Putting together 30 days of outfits from 15 pieces wasn't really hard once I had the right core group of clothes: use each top three to four times, with a different bottom each time. Apply color-appropriate sweater as needed. Done.

Well, not entirely done - and that was some of the hard part: standing in front of the mirror with a pile of belts and scarves and jewelry, trying to find the accessories that worked, that made the outfit go ZING! And then there was the daily routine of smiling for the camera. I am not a person who naturally smiles at a camera. I'm the person who runs from the camera. Smiling for the camera 30 days in a row was HARD.

Following the schedule was hard too, but again, not for the reasons you might think. It was actually kind of nice to have my clothes planned out, to be able to refer to the schedule in the morning instead of staring into the closet, looking at all those clothes and trying to pick something. No, the hard part was trusting the schedule, going out of my comfort zone and wearing those skirts when I really just wanted my comfy jeans again. The challenge was in trying to do better, trying to stretch, trying to grow.

Was it a success? I think so. I'm still not eager to pick up a skirt, but I did it, a lot of times. I've discovered that I like having something sparkly on my wrist, and I love how pretty and confident I feel in a scarf. And it's gotten a lot easier to smile for the camera.

Will I do 15:30 again? Maybe. A week ago I would have said definitely, but the last week proved to be tough - I truly was tired of those tops by the final days. But I think this is such a useful exercise. It made me really focus on my appearance, be aware of it in a conscious way and work every day to present myself well. And it made me very aware of my clothes: how important it is to have things you really want to wear, things that flatter you and make you feel good about yourself, and how disheartening it is to wear something you don't like, something that isn't you. I purged my closet before the challenge, eliminating 20 pieces. I have a strong feeling I'm going to purge again this weekend. After a fashion fast, so to speak, any new clothes should make your heart flutter, even if "new" just means you haven't worn for 30 days or more. But looking at my wardrobe this morning, there were too many things that I simply had no desire to even consider wearing. And life is too short not to be true to yourself.

15 pieces, 30 days

2010-08-27T19:51:00.006-05:00

There was a time in college when I kept a daily log of my outfits; this was back when I was a lot more self-conscious and was sure people would notice if I wore the same clothes more than once every 3 or 4 weeks. So I kept a clothing diary of sorts and planned my outfits each week with my previous choices in mind. I abandoned the habit long before I earned my degree, and in the intervening years I've worried less and less about what I put on from day to day. Lately, my routine has been easy and ultra-basic, if somewhat repetitive: throwing on a pair of jeans and whatever clean shirt appeals to me each morning.

That pattern is about to change -- dramatically.

The lovely and amazing writer and fashionista Felicia Sullivan recently presented a fashion challenge, one that she invited her readers to take up and do with her: select 15 pieces of clothing from your wardrobe and wear only those pieces for the month of September. You can accessorize all you want with scarves, belts, shoes, and jewelry, but if you're out in public (and not at the gym), you can't wear a garment that's not on your list. (Unless, of course, it's a coat -- unlikely for those of us down South.) And in a moment of questionable sanity that I may regret shortly, I committed to do it.

I have until Monday to come up with and document my 15 pieces. I'm still debating over the last couple of tops, but I have most of my list in place. It includes only one pair of casual jeans -- yipe! -- although I'm allowing myself a denim pencil skirt and a pair of dress jeans to make the transition a little less painful. Also along for the ride are a pair of basic black pants, a flared gray skirt, two cardigans (black and navy), and some very versatile tops -- nothing got chosen that couldn't be worn with at least 3 of my 5 bottom pieces. I tried on lots of choices last night in an effort to see what mixed best and to weed out anything that's not flattering to my figure. (Sorry, little black sheath; not this time.) I'll do more trying and mixing this weekend to finalize my tops, after which I'll take photos, post them, and then on Wednesday, the fun begins. Stay tuned...

UPDATE: I've decided to do a separate page just for the fashion challenge. Here's the link: http://www.squidoo.com/cheryl-does-15-30

Campaign for a Kidney

2010-08-18T13:36:00.003-05:00

My cousin Freddy Chancellor is in his early 40's and is an amazing sound engineer. He worked the sound boards for the Major League Baseball All Star game this year, so you know he's got talent. But he's also got a big problem: he needs a new kidney.

Freddy inherited a genetic disposition for a specific type of kidney disease. The first time his kidneys failed, he got a transplant from his father. That was nearly 17 years ago. That kidney began failing last year, and he's been relying on dialysis to do the job instead.

I'm not clear on the technical details so I may not explain this next part right, but my understanding is that his body is now sensitive to the family's genes and so no one in the family can be a donor because there's too much risk of rejecting the new kidney. A non-family member had offered to be a donor but the doctors finally ruled her out as well. Apparently it's going to be very difficult to find a match that will work. Needless to say, it's very disappointing and discouraging for the family.

Freddy's best chance is to have as many potential donors get tested as possible. He's looking for a needle in a haystack, and we need a bigger donor pool.

Freddy's insurance would cover all medical costs, and I've been told the surgery is noninvasive. If you have blood type A or O and you think you'd be willing to donate, there's a toll-free number you can call for a test kit: 1-888-822-7892. If you don't fit that profile, please pass this information to others you know. A donor is out there somewhere. We just need to find him.

http://www.facebook.com/kidneyforfreddy

Connections

2010-08-04T15:52:00.002-05:00

Have you ever noticed a connection between location and creativity? I have, and it's been far too long since I was able to go to my creative place.

I'm not sure why, but for me, Wildacres Conference Center is the spot where my creative brain perks up and gets busy, the place that not only makes me want to write, but helps me remember how to write well. Maybe it's the fact that, when I go there, I'm surrounded by other writers who inspire me, whose work encourages me to raise the bar for my own writing. Or maybe it's just the lack of distraction that Wildacres affords; when you're on the mountain, there's no TV, no newspaper, spotty cell phone coverage, and -- at least in my previous visits -- no real internet access. (They now have a wireless network in the lobby.) Even when I wanted to goof off, I'd end up going back to the computer and trying to write because the easy time-wasters weren't available to me. And of course, being away from home, you don't have housework or paying work or family demanding your attention, and you don't have to cook meals or do laundry or any of the other little things that steal away your time on a daily basis. You can just write: it's all you're there to do. And after going there over and over again, my brain remembers it and pops into writing gear with little fuss as soon as I sit down at a desk.

It's been a few years since I've been able to get there, but I miss it -- not just the location, but the luxury of having nothing to do but write, and that feeling of knowing that I'm at my creative best. I keep saying "I'll go next year." I hope next year I can actually live up to that promise.

UPDATE: I've created a post on Squidoo about Wildacres! Here's the link: http://www.squidoo.com/wildacres-retreat-and-conference-center

The Stealth Follow

2010-07-26T17:11:00.003-05:00

I was having an idle moment today and caught myself wondering about a former friend -- someone I adored who terminated our friendship over a horrible misunderstanding. She was in a very bad place in her life and feeling very down on herself, and in a moment of tiredness I carelessly said something that -- while not meant to hurt her -- totally fed into all that negative stuff she was feeling. And rather than discuss it with me then, she made assumptions about what I meant and stewed over it for weeks before finally ending our friendship via an angry email. It devastated me, and I cried and cried about it, tried to explain, and apologized up and down, but the damage was done. And even though all this happened about 10 years ago, I still think about her sometimes and wonder how she's doing and if she's happy. I've tried looking for her on Twitter and Facebook before, but I'd never any luck. So I was very surprised and happy to find her on Twitter today.

It may be wrong of me, but I decided to follow her via a private list. (For the uninitiated, that means she won't know that I'm following her tweets.) I'm afraid that if I just follow her, she may block me, or make her tweets private. And while following someone's tweet-stream is hardly the same as friendship, I'd rather have the odd glimpse of her life than nothing. Part of me wonders if, after all this time, she might be willing to bury the hatchet and start over, but right now, I don't think I want to take that risk. But I'd still like to be her friend again, so maybe I'll change my mind -- someday.

Confessions of a Former Workshop Newbie

2010-05-11T17:34:00.002-05:00

It’s been quite a few years since my first trip to Wildacres Writing Workshop, way back in 1995. I was much younger then (weren’t we all?), and having survived 3 semesters of short story workshops in college, I thought I was a good writer. It had been over 4 years since graduation, so I decided that I’d toiled in a vacuum long enough: it was time to get feedback from other writers again.

Back then, the electronic story-swap hadn’t been introduced, so you didn’t see your classmates’ work until you arrived on the mountain. That first night, we were handed copies of the story we’d discuss the next morning: a piece by Bruce Hoch, a frequent attendee and an amazingly talented writer. I can still vividly remember sitting on my bed that evening and reading his work; when I was done, all I could think was, “Oh God — I don’t belong here.” (I suspect there were also some thoughts along the lines of “I’m doomed” and “my story is complete and utter crap.”)

But while there may have been a tiny grain of truth in those thoughts, I never heard them uttered by anyone else there. I’m not saying I didn’t hear some criticism — I definitely got my share — but I got equal doses of encouragement and understanding from my workshop leader and my classmates. Everyone went out of their way to tell me I should keep trying.

If I had been at a different workshop, a more competitive one, I probably would have heard my doubts voiced by others — and I probably would have given up on writing.

I did keep trying, and I kept going back to the mountain; in fact, I’ve been there so many times that I’ve lost count. I’m a much better writer now, and I can honestly say that I have the writers at Wildacres to thank for it.

Places and things

2010-05-03T17:19:00.005-05:00

You know, I thought life would slow down after my grandmother died. We spent so much time taking care of her needs that I was sure we'd have a huge surplus of time once she was gone. Boy, was I wrong.

Unfortunately, when people die, we leave a LOT of things behind. In some ways, it would be easier if we were like the ancient Egyptians and buried a person with all their worldly possessions. Instead, we were left with furniture, clothing, jewelry, appliances, dishes, glassware, and countless other items that all needed a place to go. We also have several boxes of photographs; some of the subjects we can identify, some we can't. Piecing together those relics of our history will be a nice little project for someone.

And then there was the house. When you're spending all your time caring for a dying person, good housekeeping falls by the wayside. That house needed attention in the worst way. I cleaned cabinets until my fingertips were sore from scrubbing.

Our nation puts a lot of emphasis on where we live and what we own: the size of our house, and the quantity and quality of the things we possess. Since Katrina upended our lives 5 years ago, I've become increasingly disenchanted with things. Things weigh us down, drain our energy, fill our spaces and demand our attention. We need to learn to let go of things. What good are possessions when they're packed away in closets and boxes? What's the value in a photograph no one sees?

My grandmother had clothes that were never worn. She was "saving them." What pleasure is there in saving things until they're no longer any good?

I think we could all stand to take a good look at our attitudes towards things. There's a lot more to life than what you leave behind.

Eeee!

2010-04-08T11:51:00.004-05:00

I have a new project that I'm terribly excited about; I've got an SEO gig working with the directors of the Wildacres Writers Workshop, a place that calls to me despite my long absence. Wildacres is a spot that resonates with something deep in me; when I'm there, it's like a little switch in my brain goes off, the one that says "Write!" And I do, and the work I produce there is invariably better than anything I write at home.

As some of you know, I was a pretty regular workshop attendee before Katrina; come to that, I was actually writing some fiction now & then before Katrina! Post-K, I haven't been able to pay attention to the writer in me, but this new assignment has me feeling energized and re-connected to my old writing pals. I'm hopeful that next year I'll be working on my novel again and be back on the magic mountain, tapping my creativity like I did in years past.

Fin

2010-02-14T10:03:00.002-06:00

When we left my grandmother last night, I kissed her and told her, "We're leaving you in good hands. Don't go anywhere; we'll see you tomorrow."

But she couldn't wait.

She had a Valentine's date with her husband and needed to put on her wings.

Agnes Richard was 92 years old. She is survived by two children, three grandchildren, three great-grandchildren. and two siblings, and she was loved very much.

Downhill

2010-02-13T20:33:00.003-06:00

Grandma's condition deteriorated rapidly in the last 24 hours. When we left her last night, she was talking to us and everything seemed normal. Now, she doesn't even know we're there. We can't believe how fast everything changed.

We don't expect her to make it through the week.

Last night, before we left her, she said, "I guess you'll be glad when you're rid of me. You'll be free to do whatever you want." Mom denied it, but I didn't say anything, because I knew in my heart that it would be such a relief when all this was over. Now, both we're heartbroken over that conversation. You always hope that your last words with someone you love will be good ones.

You can't always get what you want.

Little things

2010-01-25T12:42:00.004-06:00

When I was having my little emotional meltdown Saturday night, Mom kept telling me that, even when we're overwhelmed with Grandma, we shouldn't complain about my uncle because she doesn't really want his help; he'll let Grandma do whatever she wants rather than insisting on what she needs, which causes more problems than it solves. I could understand her point, but it still bothered me that we're doing everything while he does almost nothing.

Yesterday, though, I had a bit of a revelation, and with it, a change of heart. Because he did something that we can't do: he brought his granddaughters to visit. They had gone to a parade and they each brought a string of long pearlized beads for Grandma -- a very appropriate gift since she's always had a love of pearls. She was still smiling about it when I saw her last night, and that made such a difference for me. There's so little that makes her really happy these days. If he can do that for her, that's quite a contribution.

Unmendable cracks

2010-01-23T15:44:00.005-06:00

I am on the verge of tears right now over my uncle's behavior. It feels like such a horrible betrayal. How can he not care about his dying mother enough to help with her care? He calls a few times a week, but that's hardly a contribution. He lives 10 minutes from her at MOST. He has time every weekend to go to his grandchildren's ball games and recitals and what-have-you. Is it too much to expect him to spend a few hours a week with his dying mother? If not for her, then for his sister, niece, and brother-in-law, the ones running themselves ragged to take care of her?

I absolutely cannot understand his utter lack of help. When she first got her diagnosis, he said he would spend one day a week with her. That never happened. He spent a couple of nights and the odd half-day, but that was it. Even if he spent two hours each weekend sitting there while Mom went to church, it would help. But he can't even be relied on to do that.

And I honestly can't see myself ever getting over it. I know Jesus taught us to forgive; I just don't know how I can even begin to forgive this kind of behavior -- particularly when he doesn't see that he's doing anything wrong. Do we have to forgive if the person isn't sorry? Or if they're only sorry because they regret the consequences?

This Can't End Well

2010-01-21T13:32:00.004-06:00

I'm feeling a lot like this little dachshund. Unfortunately, there's not much humor in the Grandma situation.

Things aren't going well.

After months of providing Grandma with full-time (often round-the-clock) care, Mom is rapidly burning out. And Grandma seems to think that it's her right to have Mom see to her every need and want. She's being particularly unappreciative today, which has us all upset. We don't want to force Grandma to go to the hospice facility sooner than her condition requires, but when she's belligerent and emotionally abusive to Mom, it leaves us feeling like we don't have any good options. Grandma's condition is worsening, but we still have no good idea of how many weeks it might be before she deteriorates enough to have to go to the hospice center. She's already well past the original estimate the lung specialist gave us in September (2 to 3 months). It's so frustrating. And Mom's brother is zero help. I mean ZERO. I don't know what's going to happen, today or tomorrow or in the coming weeks. But I don't have much hope that it's going to end well.

Uneventful holiday

2010-01-02T18:58:00.005-06:00

By some miracle, Grandma made it through the holidays. She's definitely looking worse -- Mom's been having a lot of trouble coaxing her out of bed the past couple of days. But she seemed to enjoy Christmas, and we never expected her to make it this long, so we're not complaining. You have to be glad for whatever you can get in this world.

One person, making a difference

2009-12-19T14:21:00.005-06:00

There's a lot of problems in the world today, problems that seem insurmountable. Sometimes I think about people being hungry or thirsty or homeless, landfills overflowing with discarded stuff that we thought we needed/wanted (including food), animals being euthanized or abused, children being abused, and I think, our world is a MESS. And I look at the little things I do -- recycling, donating to food pantries and other charities -- and I feel like it's meaningless, a drop in the ocean. How can one person do anything to really make a difference?

Well, this holiday season, I saw one person inspire others to make a HUGE difference. Actress Alyssa Milano set up a campaign on Charity: Water and asked all her Twitter followers to each give $1. That's all, just $1 -- less than the cost of a cup of coffee, an amount most people wouldn't miss for a second and wouldn't hesitate to spend on themselves.

At the time I'm writing this post, she has raised over $77,000. That money will provide 15 wells to villages, give clean water to 3,750 people, and provide for them for 20 years. It's absolutely amazing what an impact her campaign has made.

And I know you're thinking, "I'm not a celebrity -- I can't make that kind of difference." But she didn't do it alone. She did it by inspiring others to each make a small difference -- to believe that their drop in the ocean would be part of a greater good.

I want to encourage you all to find a charity you care about and give something, even if it's just $1. If we pull together, we can do amazing, incredible things.

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If you'd like some other charities to consider, Cake Wrecks has been doing a similar donation drive, selecting one charity a day and encouraging all readers to give $1. Their campaign summary page is at http://info.cakewrecks.com/charities.html and their charities include Heifer International, Doctors Without Borders, Share Our Strength, Puffy Paws Kitty Haven, Love146, and other worthy causes.

The Time is Now

2009-11-30T09:14:00.004-06:00

This blog post almost didn't happen.

I sat down yesterday and tried to write a post about all the unhappy feelings I've been having the past week about my weight. I started writing about the first time I packed on 20 pounds without realizing it (until, predictably, none of my dress clothes fit). Then I thought, "Okay, nobody wants to hear the tall girl complain that she's put on a few pounds." So I stopped.

But the past week, there have been three occasions where I wanted to look nice and I pulled one thing after another out of the closet, and the items I really wanted to wear just didn't fit. Oh, I could get into them (although, in one case, sitting down was probably not an option) -- but they didn't fit right and they sure didn't look good. The first time this happened, nine years ago, I said I wasn't going to let it happen again. But I did.

The worst part, though, is that I haven't bounced back from it. Nine years ago, as soon as I recognized the problem, I jumped all over it and I lost the weight. This time, I made more excuses than efforts.

Admittedly, they haven't all been bad excuses. Mostly it's been an issue of timing. I keep thinking, "I'll work on my diet after..." And so it's been a progression of procrastination: I'll do it after this deadline, after this project, after the busy season, after the move, after the holidays. But this week it finally hit me that I've now spent years putting this off. And it's time to stop.

There's always going to be another project, another deadline, another holiday, another reason I need a candy bar or a cookie or whatever. If I keep putting everything else before taking care of myself, I'll never lose the weight.

So -- holidays or not, stress or not, the bonbons stop here. I may not be able to overhaul my entire diet right now, but I can make a start.

[ Scale photo courtesy of vendor site. Also, that's not my real weight. ]

Sit

2009-10-25T08:13:00.003-05:00

The past few weekends, I've started sitting at Grandma's so she's not left alone while Mom goes to church. And I've discovered something that I used to know, years ago when I did some house-sitting, but had forgotten: there's great pleasure to be found in hanging out alone at someone else's house.

Yes, technically, I'm not alone at Grandma's -- but she spends 90% of her time lightly dozing in bed, so I'm pretty much free to amuse myself however I like. And I've been reveling in watching an hour and a half of HGTV.

You see, when you're at your own home, there's always that knowledge in the back of your mind that there's something else you ought to be doing -- laundry, cooking, cleaning, and a million other little necessities. Even when I declare it relaxation time, there's a certain amount of prioritizing: watching that Netflix DVD that's been sitting on the desk for a week; reading those 3 books I started but never finished; reading those other 5 books I bought but never read; or watching that DVD I had to have -- you know, the one that's been sitting in the unopened case for the past 6 months. But at Grandma's, there's no internet and no DVD player -- and so if I leave the books behind, there's nothing to stop me from experiencing blissful, guilt-free enjoyment of HGTV.

I've found my silver lining, and I'm delighted with it.

Peace of mind

2009-10-18T21:08:00.007-05:00

Mom signed the hospice papers yesterday, so I feel like we've done all we can to prepare for whatever happens with Grandma. That's a big, big relief.

A friend at church said they used the same hospice facility for her father and were extremely pleased with the care he received. She also said the personnel were able to tell very accurately when it was time to move him from home care to the facility. Both of those facts are reassuring to me.

We live roughly an hour from the facility, so when the time comes to move Grandma there, Mom and I will get a hotel room close to the hospice. That way we can spend as much time as possible with Grandma and have a "home base" nearby when we need a break. Luckily, the hospice is very close to my old apartment complex, so we're both familiar with the area. And there are plenty of restaurants and fast food places on hand for meals.

I feel like we've covered all the angles and done everything possible to plan. All we can do now is be attentive and wait.