I have plenty of food in the house. At no point am I at risk for starving to death, and my weight shows it. Still, since I live alone, I sometimes get weary of my own cooking, yet I refuse to go out to eat by myself. Thus, I have occasion to go out in search of whatever treat the local fast food restaurants have to offer that sound satisfying at the moment.
Thursday of this week was one of those days. I settled on Subway. Just needed something to fill my belly that was different from what I had at home.
I went to the drive-thru. A young man took my tuna sandwich order. Do you want a cookie? No, thank you. Do you want chips or a drink? No...just a sandwich. Then I drove up to the window. I complained to the young man who was working the window, "It's COLD out here!" He grinned and said he was sorry. I jokingly said, "It's all your fault!" Then he gave me my sandwich, took my money, gave me my change, and told me to have a great day. Nothing at all remarkable there.
I drove home. Once inside, I took out the sandwich and ate it, leaving the wrappers on the counter. The next morning, I got busy in the kitchen and started to throw away the Subway wrappers when I noticed something solid still inside the bag. Hmmm...what?? It was a cookie. In my mind, I'm thinking that the silly kid at the drive-thru had made a mistake. I hadn't ordered a cookie, and looking at my receipt, I saw that I hadn't paid for a cookie, either. Then I saw a hand-written note on the cookie bag: "Surprise!" And there was a hand-drawn smiley face to go with it. You (and he) can't possibly understand how much that brightened the entire rest of my day!
Many years ago, I learned a lesson from one of my Salvation Army friends. (Thanks, Patrick!) One time, when we got extra-good service at a KFC in Remington, Indiana, he asked to talk to the clerk's supervisor. She looked stricken...until he told the manager, in glowing terms, that the employee was doing her job over the top. She glowed then. I'm sure it made her day. Since then, I have made it a point to alert the Powers That Be that some of their employees are doing things right. (I was a teacher long enough to know that complaints are many, but compliments are few.) I got on Subway's Facebook page and wrote out my commendation for whom my receipt names as Hunter. They responded, asking me to reiterate my story on another input site, which I did.
I know from previous experience that these complimentary reports do trickle down to the intended person. I'm sure that Hunter will not get a promotion or a raise because I don't think Subway offers those--but I don't know. I was a little hesitant to give my report just in case Hunter wasn't authorized to be giving away free cookies, but the truth is that his caring and generosity made me a Subway fan for life...and it's all his "fault"! At worst, maybe my positive input will make his day in the same way that he made mine.
I'm not easily impressed. Expected service doesn't deserve unexpected results...but when someone goes an extra mile, that's when I get impressed! Thank you, Hunter. You did your job, and then some!
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Saturday, April 9, 2016
And From the Shipping Department...
Since my family moved to Washington State, I am slowly becoming knowledgeable about how to ship things. Items get left behind, or there are some things here that they want there. Or maybe it's gift time. Thus, the shipping begins.
Here is what I've learned:
1. If you can box your things yourself, USPS is about the cheapest. They supply small, medium, and large flat-rate boxes that you can stuff for a flat rate; but, be warned that their idea of small, medium, and large won't match yours. The large box is about the size of a VCR without much room for protective packaging, and the cost of shipping it is $18.75.
2. If you need boxing materials, you may choose between FedEx and UPS. I haven't compared the two yet, largely because there is a UPS store not far from my house, so I take my larger stuff to them. It's more expensive than USPS and no faster in delivery time, but you don't have to worry about the packing. The size of the box, weight, and distance to travel all figure into the cost.
3. Considering the cost of the shipping versus the worth of what is being shipped is a big deal. (It's the same as with storage units. I know people who have paid thousands of dollars for storage to keep things worth much, much less than that.) If you're going to ship something, make sure it's worth your expenditure! Spending $30 to ship something worth $15 makes no sense. Unless it's something unique or really sentimental, chances are the recipient can replace it cheaper than you can send it. Just mail them the money, instead!
4. Just because you shipped it doesn't mean it will arrive, or if it does arrive, will it actually get inside the receiver's home? I have a dear friend who sent a Christmas box to her family in the South. The shipment tracking said that it had been delivered, but the family never got it. Was it delivered to the wrong house? Did someone steal it from the porch? If the shipping company can prove that it was delivered to the right place, there is no recourse. Boxes being stolen from porches is becoming more and more common. Usually, I'm a nervous wreck about things that I've sent, bugging my family until I've heard that they actually got it. I hate that. It makes me look needy. Lord knows, I don't need that, but I simply can't breathe that sigh of relief until I know it got there.
Today, I sent off a shipment of "special" bedding for my granddaughter. I managed to scrape up two zippered plastic bags that used to hold comforters and the like, so I could squish a lot into a smaller space. (It would have been easier had there been someone else here to help me squish!) I got a body pillow, twin-size comforter, two regular pillows, a set of twin sheets plus an extra pillow case, and a soft little throw-blanket into those bags, then I lugged them to the UPS Store. The young man that helped me weighed it all, then measured and measured, and squished and measured again. He managed to cram it all into a box that was probably too small...and the box suffered for it...but at least the cost came to less than I was expecting, and less than the worth of what I was sending (if my family had to replace it). Success!
My shipping days are not over. More to come. But I'm getting better at it!
Here is what I've learned:
1. If you can box your things yourself, USPS is about the cheapest. They supply small, medium, and large flat-rate boxes that you can stuff for a flat rate; but, be warned that their idea of small, medium, and large won't match yours. The large box is about the size of a VCR without much room for protective packaging, and the cost of shipping it is $18.75.
2. If you need boxing materials, you may choose between FedEx and UPS. I haven't compared the two yet, largely because there is a UPS store not far from my house, so I take my larger stuff to them. It's more expensive than USPS and no faster in delivery time, but you don't have to worry about the packing. The size of the box, weight, and distance to travel all figure into the cost.
3. Considering the cost of the shipping versus the worth of what is being shipped is a big deal. (It's the same as with storage units. I know people who have paid thousands of dollars for storage to keep things worth much, much less than that.) If you're going to ship something, make sure it's worth your expenditure! Spending $30 to ship something worth $15 makes no sense. Unless it's something unique or really sentimental, chances are the recipient can replace it cheaper than you can send it. Just mail them the money, instead!
4. Just because you shipped it doesn't mean it will arrive, or if it does arrive, will it actually get inside the receiver's home? I have a dear friend who sent a Christmas box to her family in the South. The shipment tracking said that it had been delivered, but the family never got it. Was it delivered to the wrong house? Did someone steal it from the porch? If the shipping company can prove that it was delivered to the right place, there is no recourse. Boxes being stolen from porches is becoming more and more common. Usually, I'm a nervous wreck about things that I've sent, bugging my family until I've heard that they actually got it. I hate that. It makes me look needy. Lord knows, I don't need that, but I simply can't breathe that sigh of relief until I know it got there.
Today, I sent off a shipment of "special" bedding for my granddaughter. I managed to scrape up two zippered plastic bags that used to hold comforters and the like, so I could squish a lot into a smaller space. (It would have been easier had there been someone else here to help me squish!) I got a body pillow, twin-size comforter, two regular pillows, a set of twin sheets plus an extra pillow case, and a soft little throw-blanket into those bags, then I lugged them to the UPS Store. The young man that helped me weighed it all, then measured and measured, and squished and measured again. He managed to cram it all into a box that was probably too small...and the box suffered for it...but at least the cost came to less than I was expecting, and less than the worth of what I was sending (if my family had to replace it). Success!
My shipping days are not over. More to come. But I'm getting better at it!
Monday, April 4, 2016
"No News Is Good News"
See title--this was on of my mother's favorite sayings. How do you interpret it? It could have a couple of meanings:
1. Nothing in the news is good.
2. Hearing nothing by way of news indicates that everything is well.
Mom meant it as meaning #2--if you don't hear anything bad, that's good news. No one in the family died or is in the hospital or in trouble. Of course, that is proprietary to family--not the nation at large.
My experience, however, says otherwise. When people are happy, information (news) from them is free-flowing and bubbly. Even when times are tough, they keep on reaching out and doing the things that help them feel better. It's when the incoming info begins to slow or stop that I get suspicious. Why?
Go to a hospital and visit people in major pain. If they aren't too groggy from sedation, the absence of pain will allow them to be chatty and upbeat, but the minute the painkillers begin to wear off, they get quiet. Women in the throes of hard labor aren't likely to engage in minor chit-chat. People who are looking death in the face have no need or reason to be cheerful and engaging. 'Tis the same with people in emotional turmoil. How much to share with people who can't really help? In these cases, no news isn't necessarily good. It just means that circumstances are bleak. Loved ones are often blind-sided by post-traumatic situations because they weren't picking up on the quietness of the people they love.
If someone you love who normally contacts you on a regular basis gets suddenly quiet, you need to investigate. There might be nothing you can do to help, but at least you can know the truth...or whatever truth he/she wants you to know.
News is news, whether good or bad. It's going to come down, whatever the circumstances. And good luck!
1. Nothing in the news is good.
2. Hearing nothing by way of news indicates that everything is well.
Mom meant it as meaning #2--if you don't hear anything bad, that's good news. No one in the family died or is in the hospital or in trouble. Of course, that is proprietary to family--not the nation at large.
My experience, however, says otherwise. When people are happy, information (news) from them is free-flowing and bubbly. Even when times are tough, they keep on reaching out and doing the things that help them feel better. It's when the incoming info begins to slow or stop that I get suspicious. Why?
Go to a hospital and visit people in major pain. If they aren't too groggy from sedation, the absence of pain will allow them to be chatty and upbeat, but the minute the painkillers begin to wear off, they get quiet. Women in the throes of hard labor aren't likely to engage in minor chit-chat. People who are looking death in the face have no need or reason to be cheerful and engaging. 'Tis the same with people in emotional turmoil. How much to share with people who can't really help? In these cases, no news isn't necessarily good. It just means that circumstances are bleak. Loved ones are often blind-sided by post-traumatic situations because they weren't picking up on the quietness of the people they love.
If someone you love who normally contacts you on a regular basis gets suddenly quiet, you need to investigate. There might be nothing you can do to help, but at least you can know the truth...or whatever truth he/she wants you to know.
News is news, whether good or bad. It's going to come down, whatever the circumstances. And good luck!
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Sorry
I've never been one to be at a loss for words in the past, and the same thing is true now. So why have I not been writing in my blog? My sister keeps reminding me that I haven't posted anything lately. I apologize to those who might be entertained by reading my mind ramblings on a more regular basis, but "stuff" happens, ya know?
I am going to use overwhelmed as my excuse. My daughter's expression for that is "too much crap on [her] plate". I guess I could say that, too. If it works for others, why not me as well?
The arrival of my Russian friends on February 5th started my status as overwhelmed. I didn't have as much time to write things, although I did make some entries describing dealing with another culture. I confess I didn't do much work while they were here, but I did have to supervise what they did, and sometimes just keeping them supplied with the things they needed to succeed in the work they did for me took some doing. (Oh, the life of a lowly supervisor!)
It seemed that the one thing that kept the male half of the working machine well-oiled was beer. I couldn't supervise the beer supply because he kept it hidden from his wife due to her major objections to his drinking, but on a couple of occasions, he came to me (secretly, with paintbrush in hand) to request beer in order to remain on task. When I brought it home from the store, I left it in my vehicle for him to put wherever it was he put it when the opportunity arose. And of course, on Saturdays, I was sure to pick up a 12-pack for him knowing that we couldn't buy any on Sunday. (This IS Indiana, you know...) Thus part of my job as supervisor was to supply beer to the man who was working on my house for free. They departed for Florida on March 20th (Monday) and arrived on the following Wednesday, none the worse for wear.
Another overwhelming thing is the prospect of moving to Seattle. Were I more mobile and viable, I wouldn't be so scared. Still, deconstructing a home of 25 years to go and live with family who may or may not appreciate my need to feel useful, and my poor attempts at humor, is quite daunting. There are so many things to consider--so many things to discuss and think about. And, considering how embroiled my daughter's life has been over the last few months, I have held off having The Conversation about expectations. I'm still confused.
One evening when the Russians were here, Luda and I were sitting at the kitchen table just talking (as well as our limited vocabulary allowed). She was asking me about what I thought concerning moving to Seattle. I told her that it was hard to give up everything to do that and mentioned that I knew she understood because she had done it when leaving Russia, with the expectation that all would be well living with her son and family. (All was NOT well, but they didn't know it at the time.) She keep saying, "It is very hard". She was the reason they came to America, having to convince Sergei. And then she put her face in her hands and sobbed, "I was stupid woman! Stupid, stupid woman!" My heart broke for her. Things went afoul for them...mostly misunderstandings and injured feelings on both sides of the fence...from which, I guess, there is no return. It didn't help my own quandary about moving in with my kids. Sometimes mere love is not enough.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my sister has fallen and broken a rib. This woman is the primary caregiver to her husband with dementia while still wanting to be the anchor for family activities like Easter egg hunts and family dinners. I worry about her. I'm afraid that the stress of all she does for everyone causes her not to take care of herself--although I admit that she "doctors" more than I do. I'm just concerned about her. It's going to be a couple of months before she is going to feel good enough to sleep and reach and breathe and do all of the other things that involve the rib cage. She could use some prayers, please!
And then, of course, there is the whole political scene in the US right now. I have lost faith in our political system. When Donald Trump first announced that he was going to run for president, I just knew that the Republicans would come up with someone more experienced and acceptable to mainstream Americans, but it didn't happen. Much to my and many (if not most) of the Republican Party's chagrin, the Trump initiative has gathered strength to the point that it looks as though he will, by default, get the GOP's nomination as their presidential candidate. No one seems to be able to stop him, and I'm absolutely sick about it. I will vote for Alfred E. Newman before I will vote for Donald Trump, but I fear that there are too many Americans who will give him their vote only because he has captured the media's attention with his antics. He is NOT presidential material. The rest of the world is watching us and laughing. I don't think it's funny. It totally depresses me. And I have no clue what to do about that. I have mostly given up watching the news because it changes who I am. I haven't given up yet; I just feel strongly about what I believe, and Donald Trump ain't it! In a larger sense, I am watching our time-honored system of government implode before my very eyes. For the first time in my life, I'm afraid for our country.
All of this represents why I haven't written on the blog. My heart is so full that it might explode at any moment, and I would come across as just another senile crackpot. So, my dear readers, you must forgive me for my lack of focus. I'm trying. Really, I am.
I am going to use overwhelmed as my excuse. My daughter's expression for that is "too much crap on [her] plate". I guess I could say that, too. If it works for others, why not me as well?
The arrival of my Russian friends on February 5th started my status as overwhelmed. I didn't have as much time to write things, although I did make some entries describing dealing with another culture. I confess I didn't do much work while they were here, but I did have to supervise what they did, and sometimes just keeping them supplied with the things they needed to succeed in the work they did for me took some doing. (Oh, the life of a lowly supervisor!)
It seemed that the one thing that kept the male half of the working machine well-oiled was beer. I couldn't supervise the beer supply because he kept it hidden from his wife due to her major objections to his drinking, but on a couple of occasions, he came to me (secretly, with paintbrush in hand) to request beer in order to remain on task. When I brought it home from the store, I left it in my vehicle for him to put wherever it was he put it when the opportunity arose. And of course, on Saturdays, I was sure to pick up a 12-pack for him knowing that we couldn't buy any on Sunday. (This IS Indiana, you know...) Thus part of my job as supervisor was to supply beer to the man who was working on my house for free. They departed for Florida on March 20th (Monday) and arrived on the following Wednesday, none the worse for wear.
Another overwhelming thing is the prospect of moving to Seattle. Were I more mobile and viable, I wouldn't be so scared. Still, deconstructing a home of 25 years to go and live with family who may or may not appreciate my need to feel useful, and my poor attempts at humor, is quite daunting. There are so many things to consider--so many things to discuss and think about. And, considering how embroiled my daughter's life has been over the last few months, I have held off having The Conversation about expectations. I'm still confused.
One evening when the Russians were here, Luda and I were sitting at the kitchen table just talking (as well as our limited vocabulary allowed). She was asking me about what I thought concerning moving to Seattle. I told her that it was hard to give up everything to do that and mentioned that I knew she understood because she had done it when leaving Russia, with the expectation that all would be well living with her son and family. (All was NOT well, but they didn't know it at the time.) She keep saying, "It is very hard". She was the reason they came to America, having to convince Sergei. And then she put her face in her hands and sobbed, "I was stupid woman! Stupid, stupid woman!" My heart broke for her. Things went afoul for them...mostly misunderstandings and injured feelings on both sides of the fence...from which, I guess, there is no return. It didn't help my own quandary about moving in with my kids. Sometimes mere love is not enough.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my sister has fallen and broken a rib. This woman is the primary caregiver to her husband with dementia while still wanting to be the anchor for family activities like Easter egg hunts and family dinners. I worry about her. I'm afraid that the stress of all she does for everyone causes her not to take care of herself--although I admit that she "doctors" more than I do. I'm just concerned about her. It's going to be a couple of months before she is going to feel good enough to sleep and reach and breathe and do all of the other things that involve the rib cage. She could use some prayers, please!
And then, of course, there is the whole political scene in the US right now. I have lost faith in our political system. When Donald Trump first announced that he was going to run for president, I just knew that the Republicans would come up with someone more experienced and acceptable to mainstream Americans, but it didn't happen. Much to my and many (if not most) of the Republican Party's chagrin, the Trump initiative has gathered strength to the point that it looks as though he will, by default, get the GOP's nomination as their presidential candidate. No one seems to be able to stop him, and I'm absolutely sick about it. I will vote for Alfred E. Newman before I will vote for Donald Trump, but I fear that there are too many Americans who will give him their vote only because he has captured the media's attention with his antics. He is NOT presidential material. The rest of the world is watching us and laughing. I don't think it's funny. It totally depresses me. And I have no clue what to do about that. I have mostly given up watching the news because it changes who I am. I haven't given up yet; I just feel strongly about what I believe, and Donald Trump ain't it! In a larger sense, I am watching our time-honored system of government implode before my very eyes. For the first time in my life, I'm afraid for our country.
All of this represents why I haven't written on the blog. My heart is so full that it might explode at any moment, and I would come across as just another senile crackpot. So, my dear readers, you must forgive me for my lack of focus. I'm trying. Really, I am.
Sunday, March 20, 2016
All Good Things Must Come to an End
That was one of my mother's favorite sayings. Why is it that bad things never seem to stop, but good things have a beginning and an end?
I am referring to the end of my Russian friends' visit. These are my son-in-law's parents. (Why is there no word for that relationship??) They have been here since February 5th, and even though their new/old mobile home has been empty and waiting for them in Florida for well over a month, they chose to stay here to help me get things done in my little house-on-a-slab. And help, they have!
In the six weeks that they have been here, I haven't had to go to the mailbox once, nor take out the garbage, nor take the trash cans to the street on Garbage Day. I haven't had to carry groceries into the house from the car. Haven't done dishes after meals. Haven't dusted or vacuumed or washed floors. That has all been done for me by the whirlwind(s) that are Luda and Sergei.
But that's not the half of it. In that same six weeks, many other heavy-duty things were done by them. Here is the short list:
*Cleaned up the watery mess under the kitchen sink when it was discovered that the garbage disposer was leaking.
*Removed everything from the walls in both LR and kitchen, and spackled all of the nail holes, plus spackled a crack that appeared in the ceiling corner of the kitchen wall when the garage was being remodeled back in...when?...2008?
*Painted the living room ceiling, walls, and adjoining hallway, plus trim.
*Installed three new sets of blinds on the LR bay windows.
*Installed a new overhead light in the garage bedroom to replace the broken ceiling fan. (We tried to find parts to fix the fan but couldn't.)
*Stripped wallpaper in the kitchen. (This was a nasty many-day job, and Luda did 100% of it alone!)
*Painted the kitchen and trim.
*Installed two new sets of blinds on the kitchen and back door windows.
*Washed down all of the kitchen cabinets.
*Replaced a couple of small baseboard pieces that had been missing for YEARS.
*Fixed a cranky lock on the front door.
*Replaced yet another toilet flapper in the half-bath.
There is more. I just can't remember it all. In the meantime, there have been daily meals, a couple of dinners at our Heffelman friends', a couple of birthdays (one of which was at Olive Garden for a real treat), helping out (a little bit) at church, plus a St. Patrick's Day corned beef dinner here with the Heffelmans in attendance. I guess you could say we've been busy!
As the Russian friends have determined their day of departure, I've noticed that their moods have lightened. I don't take that ill because I am ready for them to be on their own, too. We all have our quirks. I am so very grateful for all they have done. We've had our little jokes. They walk in the park or go to the gym (on a membership that I got for them the very first full day they were here). I don't think their time here has been wasted. I've tried to look out for them in the same way that they have looked out for me. As I said, I will miss them.
God bless them. God bless me. I pray that they find jobs and happiness in Florida. All good things come to an end...but not until we die. May God protect my Russian friends!
I am referring to the end of my Russian friends' visit. These are my son-in-law's parents. (Why is there no word for that relationship??) They have been here since February 5th, and even though their new/old mobile home has been empty and waiting for them in Florida for well over a month, they chose to stay here to help me get things done in my little house-on-a-slab. And help, they have!
In the six weeks that they have been here, I haven't had to go to the mailbox once, nor take out the garbage, nor take the trash cans to the street on Garbage Day. I haven't had to carry groceries into the house from the car. Haven't done dishes after meals. Haven't dusted or vacuumed or washed floors. That has all been done for me by the whirlwind(s) that are Luda and Sergei.
But that's not the half of it. In that same six weeks, many other heavy-duty things were done by them. Here is the short list:
*Cleaned up the watery mess under the kitchen sink when it was discovered that the garbage disposer was leaking.
*Removed everything from the walls in both LR and kitchen, and spackled all of the nail holes, plus spackled a crack that appeared in the ceiling corner of the kitchen wall when the garage was being remodeled back in...when?...2008?
*Painted the living room ceiling, walls, and adjoining hallway, plus trim.
*Installed three new sets of blinds on the LR bay windows.
*Installed a new overhead light in the garage bedroom to replace the broken ceiling fan. (We tried to find parts to fix the fan but couldn't.)
*Stripped wallpaper in the kitchen. (This was a nasty many-day job, and Luda did 100% of it alone!)
*Painted the kitchen and trim.
*Installed two new sets of blinds on the kitchen and back door windows.
*Washed down all of the kitchen cabinets.
*Replaced a couple of small baseboard pieces that had been missing for YEARS.
*Fixed a cranky lock on the front door.
*Replaced yet another toilet flapper in the half-bath.
There is more. I just can't remember it all. In the meantime, there have been daily meals, a couple of dinners at our Heffelman friends', a couple of birthdays (one of which was at Olive Garden for a real treat), helping out (a little bit) at church, plus a St. Patrick's Day corned beef dinner here with the Heffelmans in attendance. I guess you could say we've been busy!
As the Russian friends have determined their day of departure, I've noticed that their moods have lightened. I don't take that ill because I am ready for them to be on their own, too. We all have our quirks. I am so very grateful for all they have done. We've had our little jokes. They walk in the park or go to the gym (on a membership that I got for them the very first full day they were here). I don't think their time here has been wasted. I've tried to look out for them in the same way that they have looked out for me. As I said, I will miss them.
God bless them. God bless me. I pray that they find jobs and happiness in Florida. All good things come to an end...but not until we die. May God protect my Russian friends!
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
It Isn't Whether You Win or Lose...
Picking one's battles isn't just a technique for parents. Sometimes, adults have to use the same methods in dealing with other adults. If you've never been initiated, here is the crucial question for anyone engaged in a power struggle with another person: Is the result worth the angst and hard feelings? Is it so important for you to be right that you are willing to sacrifice whatever peace there may be in order to have that righteousness for a few moments? "Picking your battles" means making a decision about whether or not the fight is worth the outcome.
There is also an expression that has to do with who will consider any decision harmful to him/her based on whether or not he/she has a stake in it. The rightness or wrongness of any decision has to do with perspective. In short: whose ox is gored?
For close to four weeks, I have had live-in help from Russia. These are my son-in-law's parents. When they arrived here, they only had a rental mobile home in Florida to look forward to for eight months, and it wouldn't be ready until April 1st. Staying with me was to be a stop-gap measure for them and a whole lot of help for me. Since then, they have actually purchased a different mobile home...an older one...which is ready for them now, but they haven't abandoned me. They are staying to help. I am so blessed!
There are, of course, problems here and there. And this is where I activate the "choosing battles" thing. We have a language barrier and a cultural barrier. Both tend to cause me to treat my Russian friends a bit like children when they are not. I forget that they have experience in the real world, even though it is not the American real world. They aren't stupid, but they are ignorant of some things, in the purest sense of the word. They just don't know. Makes a difference!
One of the first issues I've had is in trying to convince Sergei that his car doesn't need an oil change right now. The car that he has was leased by my daughter and son-in-law for months prior to the Russian parents' arrival in the US, but Sergei and wife bought out the lease in early December. The last oil change he had was two weeks before the purchase, still under lease, and thus no charge to him. And when the service people put the sticker on the windshield--not knowing that he would be purchasing the vehicle-- it said, "next warranty service due March 1st". That told Sergei that the car needed "warranty service"--not a simple oil change--on March 1st, so a couple of days ago, I called a local Honda dealer to make an appointment for whatever warranty service they do. The Service Manager kept asking me what kind of problem they were having with the car. I said none...and that's when the SM and I determined that the "warranty service" consisted of an oil change, and that anyone can do it--not just a dealer. Sergei has confused the requirements of the former lease with actual warranty work. In short, since the car is no longer leased, the oil changes will be at his expense.
I've explained all of that, but he still doesn't get it. The oil was changed in the car on December 12th. Since then, it has only been driven around the neighborhood in the Chicago area, then to Indianapolis, but still hasn't reached the 3,000 mile recommendation. Furthermore, my daughter--who drove the car for months before the Russians even arrived in the US--tells me that the vehicle has a sensor that will flash a light on the dashboard when the oil is dirty and needs to be changed. I explained that, too. He says no. Either he doesn't believe me or doesn't understand.
On March 1st. Sergei announced that he would have to get the oil changed. I said it didn't need it yet. He pointed his finger in the air and said something about 7,000 miles...and I gave up. Bottom line? It's not my car. It's not my money. If he wants to get the oil changed before it needs to be done, so be it. Maybe someone else will have more luck making him understand!
Another battle, which I've already written about, has to do with the healthful nature of foods. After the one joking conversation we had about the fats that they (mostly Sergei) adds to food, we had another more serious discussion. This one, I think, annoyed Sergei. When I commented about the amount of fat that he added to his foods, he pointed out to me that it was okay to have two tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil every day. That's "good" fat. He told me that a doctor told him that. Of course, he failed to mention all of the fats in the cheeses and the butter and the sour cream and other cooking oils that he inhales as if they were water. It's as if the doctor told him that he SHOULD have two tablespoons of olive oil every day, rather than "up to" two tablespoons of the stuff. There is nothing that I can do to change his mind, so I gave up. This man is an adult. He reads food labels the same as I do. How he interprets them is quite something else! HOWEVER, it was pointed out to me that Sergei lost 100 pounds while still in Russia and since I've known him. I have lost NOTHING. Who is the joke on now??
Then there is the "blonds" issue. We've been painting the living room. All of the trim, including the bay window, has been white. The blinds ("blonds") that have been installed for well over 25 years, are beige, and very dirty. Since blinds aren't very expensive, it was my executive decision to trash the old ones and buy new in pure white. The Russians and I all went to Menard's to have some cut (after trips to both Walmart and Meijer to see if there were any stock sizes that would work). They didn't understand that blinds could be cut to custom sizes. Surprise! Anyway, we bought three to fit the bay window and went home. Guess what? I bought the wrong length! They are about 4"-5" too short! Because they were custom cut, I was pretty sure they couldn't be returned to the store, so I knew I was just going to have to absorb the $44 due to my own stupidity. That threw my Russian friends into apoplexy, however. They were all set just to wash the old ones and re-use them. I was just as set to get what I wanted. Thus, I headed to Menard's the next morning before my friends were even out of bed for three new sets of blinds--the right size, this time. I won! (Well, I won...unless you consider the fact that the blinds cost twice what they would have had I bothered to consider the length!)
And so it goes. There will be other battles to pick. I guess the outcome will be determined by whose ox is gored and who can outlast the others in stubbornness. Not much of a happy way to end battles, but better than losing friends!
There is also an expression that has to do with who will consider any decision harmful to him/her based on whether or not he/she has a stake in it. The rightness or wrongness of any decision has to do with perspective. In short: whose ox is gored?
For close to four weeks, I have had live-in help from Russia. These are my son-in-law's parents. When they arrived here, they only had a rental mobile home in Florida to look forward to for eight months, and it wouldn't be ready until April 1st. Staying with me was to be a stop-gap measure for them and a whole lot of help for me. Since then, they have actually purchased a different mobile home...an older one...which is ready for them now, but they haven't abandoned me. They are staying to help. I am so blessed!
There are, of course, problems here and there. And this is where I activate the "choosing battles" thing. We have a language barrier and a cultural barrier. Both tend to cause me to treat my Russian friends a bit like children when they are not. I forget that they have experience in the real world, even though it is not the American real world. They aren't stupid, but they are ignorant of some things, in the purest sense of the word. They just don't know. Makes a difference!
One of the first issues I've had is in trying to convince Sergei that his car doesn't need an oil change right now. The car that he has was leased by my daughter and son-in-law for months prior to the Russian parents' arrival in the US, but Sergei and wife bought out the lease in early December. The last oil change he had was two weeks before the purchase, still under lease, and thus no charge to him. And when the service people put the sticker on the windshield--not knowing that he would be purchasing the vehicle-- it said, "next warranty service due March 1st". That told Sergei that the car needed "warranty service"--not a simple oil change--on March 1st, so a couple of days ago, I called a local Honda dealer to make an appointment for whatever warranty service they do. The Service Manager kept asking me what kind of problem they were having with the car. I said none...and that's when the SM and I determined that the "warranty service" consisted of an oil change, and that anyone can do it--not just a dealer. Sergei has confused the requirements of the former lease with actual warranty work. In short, since the car is no longer leased, the oil changes will be at his expense.
I've explained all of that, but he still doesn't get it. The oil was changed in the car on December 12th. Since then, it has only been driven around the neighborhood in the Chicago area, then to Indianapolis, but still hasn't reached the 3,000 mile recommendation. Furthermore, my daughter--who drove the car for months before the Russians even arrived in the US--tells me that the vehicle has a sensor that will flash a light on the dashboard when the oil is dirty and needs to be changed. I explained that, too. He says no. Either he doesn't believe me or doesn't understand.
On March 1st. Sergei announced that he would have to get the oil changed. I said it didn't need it yet. He pointed his finger in the air and said something about 7,000 miles...and I gave up. Bottom line? It's not my car. It's not my money. If he wants to get the oil changed before it needs to be done, so be it. Maybe someone else will have more luck making him understand!
Another battle, which I've already written about, has to do with the healthful nature of foods. After the one joking conversation we had about the fats that they (mostly Sergei) adds to food, we had another more serious discussion. This one, I think, annoyed Sergei. When I commented about the amount of fat that he added to his foods, he pointed out to me that it was okay to have two tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil every day. That's "good" fat. He told me that a doctor told him that. Of course, he failed to mention all of the fats in the cheeses and the butter and the sour cream and other cooking oils that he inhales as if they were water. It's as if the doctor told him that he SHOULD have two tablespoons of olive oil every day, rather than "up to" two tablespoons of the stuff. There is nothing that I can do to change his mind, so I gave up. This man is an adult. He reads food labels the same as I do. How he interprets them is quite something else! HOWEVER, it was pointed out to me that Sergei lost 100 pounds while still in Russia and since I've known him. I have lost NOTHING. Who is the joke on now??
Then there is the "blonds" issue. We've been painting the living room. All of the trim, including the bay window, has been white. The blinds ("blonds") that have been installed for well over 25 years, are beige, and very dirty. Since blinds aren't very expensive, it was my executive decision to trash the old ones and buy new in pure white. The Russians and I all went to Menard's to have some cut (after trips to both Walmart and Meijer to see if there were any stock sizes that would work). They didn't understand that blinds could be cut to custom sizes. Surprise! Anyway, we bought three to fit the bay window and went home. Guess what? I bought the wrong length! They are about 4"-5" too short! Because they were custom cut, I was pretty sure they couldn't be returned to the store, so I knew I was just going to have to absorb the $44 due to my own stupidity. That threw my Russian friends into apoplexy, however. They were all set just to wash the old ones and re-use them. I was just as set to get what I wanted. Thus, I headed to Menard's the next morning before my friends were even out of bed for three new sets of blinds--the right size, this time. I won! (Well, I won...unless you consider the fact that the blinds cost twice what they would have had I bothered to consider the length!)
And so it goes. There will be other battles to pick. I guess the outcome will be determined by whose ox is gored and who can outlast the others in stubbornness. Not much of a happy way to end battles, but better than losing friends!
Friday, February 26, 2016
For My Friend Lydia L.
Hi, Lydia!
I read with interest your blog post about some of the scary decisions you've been making and how torturous it is not to know what the future will bring, especially when you have no clear idea of when you will be employed...or where. Humor an old lady and read what I have to say, will you please?
It isn't advice. You don't need that. It's experience, and maybe some of it will fit you. I hope so!
So, you graduated from Ball State a semester early. That in itself is an accomplishment. Then you packed up your bags and moved to Los Angeles, halfway across the country from "home". Do you have any idea how much I admire your courage? I grew up in a different generation than you. Being the good little girl that I was, I always did what I thought I was supposed to do. I never had the chutzpah to wander far from the homestead, and in some respects, I suffered for that. I was raised as a military kid with no roots. We traveled far and wide, but when it came time for me to be an adult with a career and a family, I wanted a place to be that I could call home, and stay there. You were raised with roots. Spreading your wings is only natural, in that case. Still, I've often wondered how different life would have been for me had I not limited myself. I applaud your decision to try things on your terms. It is the only way to find out what you really want and how high you can fly!
Once upon a time, when I taught English to 12th graders, I came to understand that so many of them were terrified at the notion of leaving home and school for the big, bad world, only because they were insecure in how well they had prepared themselves. Many of them had no idea what they wanted to be when they grew up, even though they had already reached the age of majority. I spent some portion of every year talking to individuals about their choices. I would say, "You don't have to know what you want do for the rest of your life right now. You only need a direction. You need a skill. If you think you might want to do something that requires a college degree, head for college. If you want to be in business, think business school. A trade? Try a technical school. It is not at all unusual for young people to change directions in medias res." Some listened. Some did not. Many of the girls started having babies before they had husbands or a post-grad education, so they had to get jobs--any jobs--to support their children. Same thing with the guys, many of whom were convinced that they could just hire on with Uncle Frank and his roofing business and make enough money to support themselves and their children. Advantage: Lydia! You always seemed to have a direction, smarts, and a level head. (Translate: maturity.) And from what I've seen, you are pretty good at what you do!
In my field of expertise (education), students right out of college were snapped up quickly. Even though districts often said they wanted people with experience, the new graduates represented fresh fish in small districts because they were at the bottom of the pay scale. (My first teaching contract in 1969, was for $6,400 in Heyworth, IL.) I'm not sure the real world is still like that. But here's the deal: someone is going to take a chance on you, even if you sign on for something less than what you want or need. Experience comes from that first job. No one expects you to stay with that first job forever. Better opportunities will come along, and when they do, circumstances will improve. In the meantime, you may have to flip a few burgers. In the entertainment biz of the LA area, it's called Paying Your Dues. You have what it takes, Kiddo. Just hold onto the edges of the flying carpet so you don't fall off in the meantime.
So, what happens if your dream falls through? What if you don't find that perfect job...or any job at all? You can second-guess yourself and kick yourself all you want, but it will not change what is. If you count yourself as a failure, you will have given in to the stupidity that holds us back from taking chances. It's like playing the lottery: you can't win if you don't buy a ticket, right? In taking the risks you have taken, you've bought a ticket to your future. If the ticket doesn't win, you will still have a future! You can always come home. As Robert Frost once said, "Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in." (From "Death of the Hired Man".)
Do not lose heart! Do not be too hard on yourself! Don't expect more from Lydia than what Lydia can conceivably do! In the meantime, please understand that there are a whole lot of people in the Midwest who love you and have faith in you. And yes, we'll take you back, no questions asked, if you need us.
The irony, of course, is that--while I envy the daylights out of the decisions you have made--I'm cursing my daughter for doing the same thing. How DARE she move my grandchildren to Seattle!
God bless you in your venture. I'm making new plans of my own--new, daring plans--to leave almost everything I have behind and move to Washington to become a burden to my family! I'm as scared as you are! And the beat goes on....
Love you, my friend!
Peg McN
I read with interest your blog post about some of the scary decisions you've been making and how torturous it is not to know what the future will bring, especially when you have no clear idea of when you will be employed...or where. Humor an old lady and read what I have to say, will you please?
It isn't advice. You don't need that. It's experience, and maybe some of it will fit you. I hope so!
So, you graduated from Ball State a semester early. That in itself is an accomplishment. Then you packed up your bags and moved to Los Angeles, halfway across the country from "home". Do you have any idea how much I admire your courage? I grew up in a different generation than you. Being the good little girl that I was, I always did what I thought I was supposed to do. I never had the chutzpah to wander far from the homestead, and in some respects, I suffered for that. I was raised as a military kid with no roots. We traveled far and wide, but when it came time for me to be an adult with a career and a family, I wanted a place to be that I could call home, and stay there. You were raised with roots. Spreading your wings is only natural, in that case. Still, I've often wondered how different life would have been for me had I not limited myself. I applaud your decision to try things on your terms. It is the only way to find out what you really want and how high you can fly!
Once upon a time, when I taught English to 12th graders, I came to understand that so many of them were terrified at the notion of leaving home and school for the big, bad world, only because they were insecure in how well they had prepared themselves. Many of them had no idea what they wanted to be when they grew up, even though they had already reached the age of majority. I spent some portion of every year talking to individuals about their choices. I would say, "You don't have to know what you want do for the rest of your life right now. You only need a direction. You need a skill. If you think you might want to do something that requires a college degree, head for college. If you want to be in business, think business school. A trade? Try a technical school. It is not at all unusual for young people to change directions in medias res." Some listened. Some did not. Many of the girls started having babies before they had husbands or a post-grad education, so they had to get jobs--any jobs--to support their children. Same thing with the guys, many of whom were convinced that they could just hire on with Uncle Frank and his roofing business and make enough money to support themselves and their children. Advantage: Lydia! You always seemed to have a direction, smarts, and a level head. (Translate: maturity.) And from what I've seen, you are pretty good at what you do!
In my field of expertise (education), students right out of college were snapped up quickly. Even though districts often said they wanted people with experience, the new graduates represented fresh fish in small districts because they were at the bottom of the pay scale. (My first teaching contract in 1969, was for $6,400 in Heyworth, IL.) I'm not sure the real world is still like that. But here's the deal: someone is going to take a chance on you, even if you sign on for something less than what you want or need. Experience comes from that first job. No one expects you to stay with that first job forever. Better opportunities will come along, and when they do, circumstances will improve. In the meantime, you may have to flip a few burgers. In the entertainment biz of the LA area, it's called Paying Your Dues. You have what it takes, Kiddo. Just hold onto the edges of the flying carpet so you don't fall off in the meantime.
So, what happens if your dream falls through? What if you don't find that perfect job...or any job at all? You can second-guess yourself and kick yourself all you want, but it will not change what is. If you count yourself as a failure, you will have given in to the stupidity that holds us back from taking chances. It's like playing the lottery: you can't win if you don't buy a ticket, right? In taking the risks you have taken, you've bought a ticket to your future. If the ticket doesn't win, you will still have a future! You can always come home. As Robert Frost once said, "Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in." (From "Death of the Hired Man".)
Do not lose heart! Do not be too hard on yourself! Don't expect more from Lydia than what Lydia can conceivably do! In the meantime, please understand that there are a whole lot of people in the Midwest who love you and have faith in you. And yes, we'll take you back, no questions asked, if you need us.
The irony, of course, is that--while I envy the daylights out of the decisions you have made--I'm cursing my daughter for doing the same thing. How DARE she move my grandchildren to Seattle!
God bless you in your venture. I'm making new plans of my own--new, daring plans--to leave almost everything I have behind and move to Washington to become a burden to my family! I'm as scared as you are! And the beat goes on....
Love you, my friend!
Peg McN
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