Hot + Cold

This summer has been so kind to us--not too much of anything really.  We've had short stints of hot and humid, but nothing like some of the recent summers that heated up to 90 degrees in May and cooled down to the fall temps overnight in mid or late September.  Instead, we've had fluctuations of seasonal temps, rain, sun, etc.  And yet, I have caught myself in this latest stretch of humidity, wishing and pining for the cooler air.  I'm convinced some days that I was really made for Alaska...or Antarctica or something because it doesn't take much heat to completely spoil my fun.

I wake up early each morning to leave myself plenty of time to take a stroll with Tucker through the quiet streets of the neighborhood and also have the sacred cup of coffee to ease into the day.  Given how early I rise, I've been repeatedly shocked this week when I step outside and literally feel like I must swim through the air, or peel it back, in order to walk.  Morning is meant to be fresh and crisp and invigorating.  This week, there will be no such nonsense.  It's been disgustingly humid.

So, given my aversion to the heat and humidity, you would be led to believe air conditioning is a close friend of mine.  Not so.  While I don't mind the cold in general, the extreme humidity outside and heat make the cold air inside feel a hundred times more cold.  This aversion grew just a bit deeper this week when I read in the Wall Street Journal that going from the heat outside and into the air conditioning has been proven to be bad for our immunity.  So, all of that lore about how awful sicknesses reign in the winter?  Guess again.    

As I sat on the stairs at the back of my house, watching Tucker wander the yard at lunch, feeling like a raisin in the sun, it occurred to me just how miserable the hot weather really is for me.  Some people talk about how they slow down in the winter, due to the cold, but if you ever need me to slow down, just plop me down in the heat.  The misery increases when you add work clothes to the equation.  The natural solution would be to dress in summer/light attire, right?  Sounds reasonable.  However, I had spent my entire morning (and then my afternoon) freezing in the relentless air conditioning at the office.  The chuckle came when I pondered my personal space heater under my desk.  As I sat there, hating the heat, I realized that my entire perspective would be shifting drastically in about a half hour when I returned to the frigid reaches of my workspace.  As predicted, I huddled round the space heater all afternoon.

Tonight, as I walked through the thick, sticky air, I realized this fickleness is more common than not for us.  When you're young, you want to be older; then, you're older and wish you had enjoyed being young.  When you're busy, you want to have some downtime only to then get bored when the downtime comes.  When you wish you had taken the time to finish reading that book, you're of course the busiest you've been all year.  I could go on, but I'm sure the point is clear.  I've worked really hard all summer not to wish for winter or fall, but I guess today showed me that obsessing over the heat's misery is just about the same, without the words being spoken.

And so I say to you, Mother Nature, keep that humidity coming...I'm so grateful?  (I'm counting on you, reverse psychology.)

Life on the Creek

It's been amazing to me how different ecosystems can be between two neighborhoods, mere minutes from one another.  

I grew up in a part of town that had so many hills that there was truly no direction to go in and not encounter one.  With those hills came lots of trees.  Springdale's hills made me feel like I was up on a perch with a bird's eye view of the valley.  The view brought breathtaking mornings because it sat above the fog, so I could see fluffy stuff listlessly puddling all along the lower lying areas.  Similarly, at the end of the day, I always felt lucky to be able to watch as the sun slowly faded behind the hill-filled horizon.  

Springdale had an assortment of regular visitors from nature.  Always lots of birds--the typical robins, cardinals and blue jays.  (I can't forget the infamous crows and pigeons here but will subject them to a parenthetical; all too willing creatures of garbage night.)  There were also plenty of sightings of deer, raccoons, bunnies and the occasional groundhog.  My mom has always entertained a very large family of squirrels.  Their home, the aptly named "Nuthouse," in an old tree is always bustling when we gather as a family for cookouts.  In fact, the family has expanded so much, it's now like its own circus, with various generations entertaining us with their high wire acts along the power and phone lines. This ever-expanding family has brought a hawk or two to my parent's yard on occasion, but I was never present.

My new neighborhood is literally a 5 minute drive from Springdale, but it is nestled in one of the wandering crooks of Wheeling Creek (affectionately referred to as Big Wheeling Creek locally).  Wheeling Creek is part of the Ohio and Mississippi River watersheds and about 25 miles in length (or that's what Wikipedia tells me).  I have been amazed at the change in ecosystem for one large and many small reasons.  There is almost nowhere in Wheeling one can go at this point and not see deer wandering about.  Over the past 4 months, I've witnessed one lonely doe.  What I've seen here that I rarely or never saw before include toads, frogs, an increased number of groundhogs, ducks, geese and perhaps my favorite--the blue heron.  There are also many more earthworms here--to the point that when it had rained one night, I was out by my garden and could hear them tunneling through the dirt just like they were doing laps in a pool!  Also, in the old neighborhood, there would be the unfortunate occurrence of roadkill from time-to-time, and it would almost always be a poor defenseless squirrel.  Here?  Tucker and I walk the streets and find that many toads and frogs meet the same unfortunate end.  I would have never considered the playful, hopping creatures as roadkill until I saw it for myself.  As we walk, we also get to hear a lot of ducks and geese calling out as they fly overhead.  I love it.  

This experience is only eclipsed in the rankings of enjoyment by one other thing:  the blue heron sightings.  (I have myself convinced that it's the same blue heron every time I see it, but I have no way of knowing that.)  There is an access point to the creek one block over, and it's a place we pass daily on our morning walk.  So, when we wandered over and witnessed the heron there for the first time, it was in the process of catching a fish and flying off to who knows where.  This bird's wingspan was incredible and the colors that became visible with its outstretched wings were just as much so.  Now, each morning that we have the great pleasure of seeing it, I still gasp with excitement--and most times, it's simply standing there, just as it is in the picture above.  

So life on the creek has proven interesting, and taught me that no matter how far I go, there will always be some new living something to entertain.  Fun!

Books + Home: When Two Loves Collide

I have been much in love with books since I can remember.  I don't have the best long-term memory or many other crisp-clear memories of childhood, but I remember endless hours spent reading aloud to my mom.  I think my favorites were the Little House on the Prairie series, by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and the Berenstain Bears series, by Stan and Jan Berenstain.  These books were my springboard into all the possibilities the world and one's imagination could hold.  Life was good enough to allow me to work in a bookstore (RIP Borders Books & Music) during my year of graduate studies at Villanova, and my heart still races each time I get to walk into a building filled with the classics and more contemporary works.  The thought of all of those amazing minds and what they create is overwhelming to me.  Brilliance is hanging out around every last corner.

My other love (more during my adult years) is my hometown of Wheeling, WV.  I think I probably loved it as a kid, too, but I'm positive there was a span of time in my teens and early 20s when I could take it or leave it.  My mom, who always had amazing musical tastes and exposed me to some of the best artists of her time, like Carol King, James Taylor, Billy Joel, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac, etc., used to crank up tunes as she cleaned the house.  This must have pre-dated my school days because I was hanging out rather than off learning, but I remember her playing a Billy Joel song ("The Ballad of Billy the Kid") that started out with the lyrics, "In a town known as Wheeling, WV..."  Each time I heard it, I was so proud of where I was from!  Nowadays, it doesn't take a Billy Joel song to fill me with pride.  I love my hometown and state beyond compare.

So, I couldn't have imagined the sheer volume of love possible when my love of these two disparate things collided with the opening of the Barnes & Noble in conjunction with West Virginia Northern Community College.  I wanted to come out of the store and shout into the streets huge "thank you's" to everyone and anyone who made that place happen.  Granted, the store is not of cavernous proportions--half of it is dedicated to a Starbucks and customer seating and a fraction of it is dedicated to books and supplies not really of general public interest--however, the little bit of space they have, they have packed with great titles and some other fun items (like Moleskine notebooks, which are a huge weakness for me).  I do have to say here that endless options are not a good friend of mine, so this smaller selection is actually more fitting for my own personal taste and did not lack a bit in offering exploration into some unknowns.  The atmosphere during my visit was one of quiet comfort, something I've always loved about bookstores--makes them feel like a trendy library.  They have a parking lot, making trips in and out pretty simple, and the customer service was lovely. The absolutely best part?  It's a mere two blocks from my workplace.  "Best" and "dangerous" are probably interchangeable here.

My bottom line is that this is just one more reason to love life in "the Wheel" and be grateful to all of those who made it happen.  The culture of home just got a little better.    

The Earth Provides

This past year has been a big one.  One of my favorite adventures was putting in a real, honest-to-God garden in the backyard of my new (and first) home.  I had no idea what I was doing, and there's so much information out there, I decided I just had to wing it rather than sift through the endless commentary available.  

My favorite lesson from gardening was about the unexpected beauties it can offer.  The yard had never had any attempted garden--at least any living remnants of such.  So, the wheels started turning as to how, exactly, I would pull off tearing up the grass, its plentiful roots and enough dirt to actually plant anything with a chance at a root system.  My dad, who is Johnny on the Spot for all handyman jobs that pop up at my house, was rightfully enjoying retirement at the shore.  Those crazy kids (aka my parents) never make it home by any definitive date these days, so the growing season was liable to come and go before they rambled their way home.  In a random act of kindness, an old friend from school and his beautiful little family came to the rescue and prepared the ground with a tiller.  

Gardening also taught me how to appreciate the earth and what it will provide--given a commitment to assisting it.  And what fantastic gifts it will give if just a consistent and solid amount of work is done!  It really takes the weekly trip to the produce section at the grocery store and tosses it on its head.  The flavor, alone, makes growing as much food as possible at home well worth it; but, add to that, the sense of accomplishment and amazing feeling attached to growing, nurturing, harvesting and then eating your own food.  It's such a simple concept and yet so lost in the buzz of today's world.  

As I stood at my kitchen sink tonight, blanching and skinning a load of heirloom tomatoes, I was pleased to think that the cold months will be a little bit warmer and tasty this year as a result of what has turned out to be one of my favorite experiences in life.  Thank you, Earth and Mother Nature, for one heck of a run in 2013.  Looking forward to next year's growing season!  

The Hawk's Perspective

Now that settling into a new role at work and a new house at home have both started to plateau a bit, I've started to shockingly return to some balanced way of life.  Whether it's big stuff or little stuff, life's stuff definitely has a way of pulling the path right out from under you, placing it in the far reaches of your vision.  But, on a recent trip to Coopers Rock State Park, a brief run-in with a hawk helped me remember that relocating that path is sometimes just a matter of changing your perspective.

I've loved living in West Virginia for most of my adult life.  I am guessing I enjoyed it as a kid, but I definitely didn't take pride in it or liking it.  Looking back, it was only after I'd left it for some time that I really started to see and appreciate its beauty and unique offerings.  Wheeling, while endowed with its own collection of beauty and activities, really becomes quite boring and traditional when you head south (well, north, east and then south).  Driving down I-79, the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains (foothills are no more exciting than regular hills) begin to melt away, and the lumbering Appalachians begin to creep up on you.  Strikingly different from driving into the Rockies, driving into the Appalachians brings a spectrum of greens, and so for me, breathes life into your drive.  Rather than the hills and valleys I'm used to having around me, which sometimes say, "hey, I'm here, you should come and climb me sometime," the real Appalachians say, "hey, there's no denying I'm here, and I dare you to try to climb me."  Perhaps it's a bit imagined on my part, but when I travel deeper into West Virginia's landscape, I get an overwhelming sense that everything is so much bigger than I am.  The benefit of this?  Worries and trifles are shifted right into their place.

So, last weekend, I drove down to Coopers Rock and chose the Ravens Rock Trail for a mini-adventure.  This is a fun trail for hiking because it's not hugely challenging, so you can enjoy the scenery a bit but also feel confident on the trail.  There's a little bit of a climb at the end of the trail, but man is it worth it because you plateau, and then you hit it.  You hit the overlook into the Cheat River Canyon, and it's breathtaking.  Talk about remembering how small you really are--I'm convinced there's not a better (more beautiful) reminder out there.  And so, I made my way to the edge of the outcropping and sat down to take in the--well, everything.  When I looked up, there was a huge hawk, floating round and round in circles above.  And then there was a second.  And they just kept flying in these circles, higher and higher up into the air.  As I observed them, it hit me that sometimes when things grow to feel overwhelming, we will say we need to step back.  For me, this has always meant sort of checking out of whatever is causing the stress.  But, what I started to realize is that these hawks were on to something.  As they went higher and higher, their perspective would grow to be wider and wider--in my mind, giving everything a place, allowing it room and room to breathe.  So, these hawks taught me something in minutes that I hadn't thought of before.  Even more?  The smooth and controlled beauty of their flight was entrancing and also appeared effortless.

This entire moment sort of made me want to just pitch a tent and stay right there forever.  What a great place to take in and how fortunate I feel to have it right at my fingertips whenever I want it.  Thank you, West Virginia--my forever host.

Love + Compassion

As our world has continued to expand, and our societies and communities have followed the trend, it seems we've started to grow apart.  I know I often allude to the pace of the world and discriminate against it for personal reasons, but I have been reminded of why I hold contempt for that pace.

While it's not every day that I meditate on society and the world on an abstract level, when I do have flashes of those thoughts, I see flashes of desperation and a sense of panic that only deepens and becomes more rooted with time.  From more harmless moments like Black Friday shopping, where shoppers elbow one another, push one another and race towards their treasures, to moments of road rage or inconsiderate driving, when drivers cut one another off, carelessly risking the lives not only of those in their own vehicle but those in the others around them.  And then we can travel the spectrum to events like those that unfolded in Newtown, CT, on Friday.  Murderous contempt for our fellow human beings--in this case for the most innocent and promising of our population.

Ironically, what I've observed in the world around me is that as our economy blossoms into a more global one in nature and our individual cultures begin to meld into a more universal and multi-cultural society, we have become more and more isolated.  This self-concern and isolation has started to foster incredibly unhealthy and often tragic trends.  This self-concern and isolation has devalued love and compassion for others and internalized these things so that it's strongest only for ourselves.  This trend has made it so that we celebrate those who still embody love and compassion for others as heroes.  They, undoubtedly, are, but the sadness is found in the fact that that is what we were all built to be.  Without traveling too far down a Christian road, the symbolism in the cross, itself, reminds us of the importance of our relationships and love for one another.  The cross tells us that our relationship with one another is just as important as our relationship with our Maker.  And yet, we so easily and often forget this.  Just as so many faiths tell us that we should go to worship on a weekly basis, they should tell us to worship one another always.  My safety is as important as your safety and well being, so I should care for you--stranger, friend or family--as I care for me.

So many things in our country need to be fixed.  But, coming down from that level--the one where our government and other systems are responsible for change--we need to be fixed.  We need more parents, more people, who can help people like the shooter in Newtown.  We need more people to do this so that we no longer have to watch the faces of 6-year-olds and 7-year-olds flash across our screen because they have been brutally murdered with a semi-automatic rifle.  We need to be responsible for the well being of one another and the well being of our society.  We need to stop traveling down this dark road of isolation, helplessness and lack of concern on a daily basis.  Because all of those days that pass will always lead to a day like Friday and the subsequent days after of suffering and sadness.  We landed on the moon, we innovate new technologies, we find ways to make loads of money.  Now, we need to figure out how to help one another.  How to love and be compassionate again.  

Thoughts on Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving ranks as one of my favorite holidays.  Some of my favorite things are a part of the holiday--like delicious comfort foods and the favorite niece and nephews.  Unlike Christmas, there is so much less pressure.  No frantic gift buying and giving, so no resulting panic over gift buying debt or getting it just right.  No multiple day celebration, wearing everyone out and producing the holiday fatigue cloud.

One of my favorite ways to spend time is cooking and baking.  Without ever really noticing it until recently, I've also developed an affinity for doing so in the company of others.  If you've never tried cooking or baking with your friends or family, you really must.  The kitchen is the equivalent of my adult tree house.  I hide out there with my favorite people, feeling nothing but elation over the opportunity to huddle in the company of others in the warm, delicious-smelling homiest part of home.  Even more, I love creating good eats with others.  Whether we're all individually responsible or working with one another on goodies, it's always a team effort that, in the end, can be appreciated as such.

The smells of Thanksgiving immediately stir good memories and excitement for me.  I know many candle companies capture the individual smells of the holidays, but I really think someone needs to capture the symphony of smells that come together with the roasting turkey in the oven.  Whether it's the stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes or pumpkin pie, they all partner perfectly.  These smells together can take the likes of an empty bomb shelter and transform it into a cozy home, fire burning in the fireplace and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade playing in the background.

There has been only one occasion when I have not made it home for the holiday.  I was a starving student in Philadelphia, and I honestly don't even recall what I ate that holiday with my out of town guest.  What I recall best is working the aisles of Borders Books & Music (yes, they still existed) on Black Friday, wondering why I had just missed out on my favorite holiday ever at home.

And so this year, as I gather at the table with my family, I will be very thankful for the great privilege of gathering with them in a warm, cozy setting, with all of the smells of Thanksgiving cradling us in our celebration.  And while I usually pause at some point in each day, amazed by my great fortune in this life, tomorrow, I will pause to be grateful for my Thanksgiving Day fortune of being right where I want to be.

Navigating Life's Rivers

We know ourselves best.  This is always a good motto to follow throughout your life.  But, there's also often a lot of noise around us, making it hard to hear ourselves think.  Times of crisis can be especially tough--whether health-related, emotional or otherwise.  I think of these times as having their own currents, like a river, and whether this river is only a river to you or not, it can still carry you away.  

So, I offer two tools below that have helped me recently and that I'm growing to value more with each day.  

• Health Tool.  This past year has offered me a lot of content in the health department.  Lots of downs, unfortunately.  The really great part of this has been my own exploration of how my body and mind are connected and how all of those small things that you write off as small can, in reality be big and, as a result, have big effects on your health.  So, my first bit of advice is to always, always be fully aware of what's been floating around in your mind as you seek medical advice.  The second part of this health tool is to always be your own advocate when you do seek medical attention.  Asking questions should not equate to doubting your doctor's intelligence and competence.  Unfortunately, I think that has become a trending assumption.  In my own case, I was convinced that I had to cave on taking a medication I'd been avoiding for years...literally years.  I caved and ignored my own concerns only to spin into many months of darkness.  And when I say darkness, I mean the type of darkness that makes functioning extremely challenging and a darkness that shrouds all feelings and emotions of the good sort in total darkness.  Along this road, I noticed a difference, so I thankfully kept aware and talked often about what was going on with my family.  Finally, when a health scare of a larger proportion snuck in, my family doctor finally put an end to a continuation of the medication that I'm convinced, at this point, took a downward spin and turned it into a nosedive.  Do not be fooled by the effects of medication.  While this medication was to help relieve symptoms I would really rather go without, which it did for the most part, it left me feeling in the deepest depths of post partum depression.  Not cool. So, ask questions, be curious and always communicate your gut feelings.
• Well Being Tool.  As a result of said medication above, I became desperate for some emotional relief.  Enter Jon Kabat-Zinn and mindfulness meditation.  Kabat-Zinn runs a sophisticated stress clinic in Massachusetts.  He is nothing short of a thought leader in the field, and his tools have helped many people.  So, I picked up one of his books, Full Catastrophe Living, and I started making myself listen to his Body Scan Meditation on a nightly basis.  Between the knowledge in the book, and the calm of the meditation practice, I have gained so much more appreciation for how responsible we all are for our well being.  The world, this day in age, tells us not to stop.  It tells us not to slow down for fear of being trampled.  But, learning mindfulness meditation has taught me not only what stopping and slowing down does for me, but through that, what it can also do for others.  This is not to say that it's easy because it is not.  With work schedules, family schedules, responsibilities, etc., it is so easy to bypass this daily exercise and gain a bit more television time, reading time or just plain down time.  But, I've personally come to adore my meditation hours.  The strength and calm that can be elusive in light of tough times begins to flourish and bring such joy.  On nights when I hesitate, I think of the darkness that that medication brought with it.  And then I ask myself if there was anything else at all that helped me combat that, and the answer is no.  And so, I embrace the lifesaver and, in the end, bring my mind and body relief from the day's challenges and stress.

       

Holidays

This year, as you get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the holidays--because you know you will...we all will--try to remember something important.

Every day...every single day...is just as important as the next.  Granted, important people have done very important things, changing humanity forever and banking some days memorializing their feats. But, we each change humanity--for better or for worse--every moment of every day.

So, perhaps this year is the year to live every day as you do a holiday.  Memorialize the day, a beautiful moment in the day.  These days, it's as good as a holiday if you take a moment in the day to stop.  Put down your smart phone, turn off the television and simply breathe in the day and all that it has so graciously given.  Because this, my friends, is the greatest gift of all.

Generation Z

This past weekend, I had a mildly rude awakening.  It started innocently enough--a simple trip to the movies with my niece, Sydni.  The last time we went to the movies to see the newest Ice Age movie, we had seen a preview for Frankenweenie, Tim Burton's newest creation.  Since then, I think I've driven her completely crazy trying to schedule a time for us to see Frankenweenie.  (This entailed saying that movie name out loud way too many times to count).  In any case, after a last-minute debate between Frankenweenie and Hotel Transylvania, we went with the Burton film.

After about a half hour or 45 minutes into the movie, Syd looked over at me in the dark to see if I had any gum.  Her eyes were welled up with tears, but she was acting totally normal.  I had to ask in a couple of different ways, but I finally got a confession that the movie was upsetting her.  I felt awful, of course, but we were able to leave and continue on with a really enjoyable day.  Why did we have to leave?  Let me explain.

Early in the movie, there is a depiction of a boy who is very close with his dog--does everything with him.  Next thing you know, the boy is pressured into playing on a baseball team, the dog chases one of his balls into the street, and the inevitable happens, killing the boy's beloved dog.  While I knew this was a natural condition for Frankenweenie to be Frankenweenie, I guess I was a bit surprised at how detailed the story was surrounding this portion of the movie's action.  The movie was rated "PG," so I didn't even think about it, and I thought about it even less since the preview had been shown in a movie that would have a pretty young audience (Ice Age).

Unfortunately, Sydni and I have both lost beloved pets in the past year, so perhaps this contributed to our strong response to the sadness.  But, this really made me start thinking because this is not the first time that I have submitted Sydni to a seemingly kid type of movie that made her cry.  Now, I want my niece to be realistic in how she digests the world and all it has to deal, but I also would love to take her to the movies without her crying.  And I have to say that most of the previews we saw before this movie started were more in the dark realm than I would expect for kids.  I compare them to ones I watched as a kid, and I can't really draw a comparison because movies, for me, were a total escape from the real world.  Fun, animated, sometimes with a tinge of real, but never too much.

I worry about a lot of things, but the more I see, the more I worry about "Generation Z" and beyond.  They're exposed to such adult concepts so young, from grown up concepts camouflaged in animated movies to constant networking with the world, and I wonder how that will ultimately play out for them.  I hope that I can resume taking my niece to see youthful and inspiring movies, shall any be made in the foreseeable future.  And I hope more than anything that kids will get to be kids for a good long time--before they get tossed into the real world and see that the dark and complicated are superfluous.  They should have some time of wonder, about how things work and things that they cannot simply have but have to wait for.  Simple is good and kids need a dash more simple and good.    

Furry Friday Edition: Pet Goods

Pet apparel has never been for me.  First, I've always had cats, and they're not so supportive of pet apparel experimentation.  Moreover, though, I've never been able to really appreciate it.  My thought has always been that there are many, many other things to spend money on.  However, this pet apparel pictured at right?  That is a dog shirt, purchased by me, for my 60 lb. goldendoodle puppy.  Obviously, something has changed.

This new affinity for dog apparel is rooted in the discovery of Fido's Fashion Collars.  I didn't even really count this as a venture into dog apparel because every dog should have a collar.  So, it was a little more along the lines of a need.  However, I started to buy Tucker these customized collars when he was just a pup, and being that he weighed in at 8 lb upon arriving at home, you can imagine the number of collars we have gone through.  Add to that the fact that I cannot bear to place an order with Fido's unless I order multiple collars.  Why?  My only answer is puppy apparel is like crack.  It's a terrible habit just lurking in the wings for you to bite.  There are rotations of holiday collections, seasonal collections, just because collections.  And once you've bought in once, it's all over.  

More recently, I've hit an issue that further compounded this situation.  Tucker is a big guy, and he doesn't hesitate to drag me through our walks.  I've found one harness that reels in his power a bit.  Funny enough, that harness is the sole harness on the market that has no padding in a crucial portion of the harness structure, which causes occasional scraping to a dogs skin behind their front legs.  I figured this was like the listing of side effects for any medicine.  There was a 1 in 1000 chance that Tucker's harness would actually rub him wrong.  But, alas, I was wrong.  I was really disturbed the first time I discovered it was rubbing him, so I quickly started to replace the harness...only to be dragged through our walks again.  Then, I had my light bulb moment.  If I place a t-shirt on him, then the harness won't rub!  There will be a protective layer!  You would think that the initial discovery that dog t-shirts run about $25 would have deterred me.  But, no.  BaxterBoo.com reeled me in just like Fido's Fashion Collars, and I have purchased my first two dog t-shirts.

So, remember.  Things change.  One day, you see yourself as a level-headed consumer, aware of the tricks of the dog apparel trade, and the next day you could be in the thick of a brand new bad habit.  All I can say is thank goodness Tucker cannot speak English.  I feel sure he would be pulling me aside for a word after parading around the neighborhood in his new dinosaur-themed t-shirt, complete in fall colors.

  

The Debate Debate

'Tis the high season of political debates.  As a disclaimer, this post will not be a medium to convince you of who should be president.  It's more a commentary about the antiquated debate system and how little help it really lends voters.  The official tradition dates back to 1960, but there are also other instances referenced before that time.  Overall, however, what's learned through these debates is what follows:

1. No matter who is placed as the moderator, participants ignore them.  So much discussion surrounds debate format, rules, etc.  However, this all falls apart once the debate starts.  Lesson learned?  These debates are simply a microcosm of the state of our political system.  Politicians do what they want, when they want, and no rules or morals or laws will stop them. 
2. Candidates spend more time talking about what the other is not doing or not planning to do than they spend time on their actual plans and an explanation of effects of those plans.  When they're not discussing what the other has not done, they discuss their version of what the other will be doing.  Lesson learned?  We could view the endless negative political commercials at our fingertips, learning the same set of information and have 90 minutes more of our life back.  Everyone wins!
3. The debate system is inherently flawed.  Perhaps there was a time, once upon a time in history, when you could take any candidate for his or her word.  Today, however, truth is an illusion.  We have learned this through the plethora of political scandals that have unfolded before our eyes.  So, the fact that some insist that these debates are key to political races is absurd.  I don't want to hear infinite iterations of what these folks plan to do, I want to actually see what they will do or can do.  Give me a list of what you see, as a candidate, as the top 5 issues in our country.  Then, tell me what you're going to do about it...and then?  Tell me what you have done previously that would support that you can actually make this happen.  Using debates to determine a candidate's qualifications, to me, would be like putting together a pro sports team by simply having players tell you what they can do.  Sports, like politics, are about doing.  If you can't do, then you are not qualified.  It seems in today's world, though, that more and more decisions are made by what people say they can do.  I wonder how this has worked out? 
4. Lastly, as long as our political world is dominated by partisan ideals, with no interest in unity, then debates will remain an extension of that philosophy.  We will learn nothing, they will repeat the same stuff we see and hear otherwise, and we will continue to get nowhere.  It's great to know what the Democratic and Republican candidate want to do and how much they detest one another's solutions and ideals.  But, how is that a barometer for how they'll do their job...with those hundreds of others who must help them get the job done?  I would rather see a format where they must sit down with those across the aisle and actually demonstrate how they would walk through solutions together.  Isn't that what they really must do to get the job done?  Where is our common ground?  How can we expand on that...and...in the end...actually benefit our constituents? 

I have always been underwhelmed by politics, and it's for these reasons.  For me, it's more an act of theater than what it should be, which is pretty serious stuff with pretty high stakes.      

The Tech Glitch

As a member of the generation that has essentially grown alongside technology, the internet--the digital age--I have come to accept the years of convincing that technology is good, that it simplifies, and that it's super duper smart.  However, just like us, technology can have its bad days, and now that I've cycled through enough of those days, I've decided to highlight my latest experience so as to eradicate the huge technological elephant in the room. 

I have to say that I don't see our government as a technology "power user."  However, this became even more clear several weeks ago when I attempted to buy a treasury bond for my niece.  This experience was already feeling a bit heavy because it was the first time this idea had come to mind for me, and it reminded me that this was my grandfather's favorite gift to give throughout much of my childhood.  This memory made me realize that only the aged think of this as a gift option, and this would make me aged.  But, then, to make it even worse, the timeless tradition of buying treasury bonds has been catapulted out of the Stone Age and into modernity.  My nostalgia for times past came to a screeching halt when the bank informed us that banks no longer sell treasury bonds.  Why don't our financial institutions sell these financial products?  Well, that is because the government decided to throw the entire process into the trusting hands of...the internet.  This seemed a good idea until I reached the "Treasury Direct" rabbit hole/web site.  In order to buy bonds, you must create an account.  In order to gift bonds, the recipient must have an account.  Regardless, you purchase your bond and then you can only electronically transfer it to the recipient 5 days later.  This is a very brief version of a very difficult process. 

I agree that technology can be super great.  I mean, what would we all be doing with our endless minutes of life if it weren't for the ability to bounce from app to app, site to site and e-mail to text?  And what would I do when I end up in Jebbia's, looking to buy a fresh herb and have no idea what I should be looking for?  Without Google images, these moments would force me to actually speak to a store clerk.  In any case, though, I do think there are some things best left untouched by the digital age.  The treasury bond purchase process would be first on that list...and the up-and-coming driverless car may very well be a second. 

Outdoor Reading, Part Two

Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods is a super delightful read.  He is one of the funniest writers I have read, who also manages to be very educational in his telling of a tale.  I've always known of the Appalachian Trail, of course, but it wasn't until last year that I happened across the National Geographic:  Appalachian Trail documentary on Netflix and became more intrigued.  There are people who can get lost in the woods for months at a time?  I needed to learn more about this.

While the National Geographic film was wonderful for sweeping views of the best parts of the trail, with a little splattering of personal experiences on the trail, Bryson's book is told from the perspective of a completely clueless hiker of the trail and his haphazard companion. His side commentary about just about every aspect of the trail and its quirks is laugh out loud funny.  For instance, as he researches black bears and what to expect of them as he treks up the East Coast, he tells of nighttime reading about black bear attacks, and it's recalled with as much removed fascination as it is immediate concern.  While a grown man is clearly writing of these preparations, it's sometimes a young boy, fascinated by the horrors of nature, that comes through.  And that crack in the narration ends up hilarious.

A Walk in the Woods brings a refreshing reminder of how fulfilling it can be to slow down life a little bit and take in the world around you by foot.  It illustrates that this point is agreed upon by all people of all shapes and sizes, professions and origins.  It also offers the nuggets of history that produced the Appalachian Trail and lots of other natural history that illustrates flattering and not so flattering aspects of government intervention in nature. However, all is told with a small spritz of sarcasm, which helps to make it digestible and entertaining.

If the winter gets you down, and you need to escape from a little bout of cabin fever, definitely keep A Walk in the Woods on your list of possible (and cheap!) excursions.  

Outdoor Reading, Part One

I'm pretty partial to the outdoors in general.  I haven't really found anything that can't be remedied by a little fresh air and lots of nature.  There's so much to distract with a step outside--thoughts of the complexities, beauties, incredible systems of order (and disorder).  When preparing to embark on a trip to the beach earlier this month, I armed myself with some beach reading with the outdoors theme.  While I just finished one of the two and am just beginning the other, I can confidently say that neither has been a disappointment.

The climbing culture is one that fascinates me.  Perhaps one of the most fascinating moments I've had was watching Alex Honnold's interview on 60 Minutes.  This guy was the embodiment of no fear. This way of living is very interesting to me because I would judge that my own personal level of fear at any given moment is pretty high.  I'm the type that always tries to think like 20 steps ahead to avoid disaster--and disaster in my book could be defined as missing a dinner ingredient.  This is probably why I have not become one with the climbing culture.  After years of hearing bits and pieces about Jon Krakauer's personal account of the 1996 Everest disaster, I finally picked up a copy of Into Thin Air.  Before hitting the thick of the storm that would become the disaster, I was partially convinced that life would not be complete without a trek to the top of the world.  After the first-hand account of all that went wrong, along with all of the smaller things that always go wrong but just don't add up to qualify as disaster material, I was humbled by the relative safety of my everyday life--and even what I consider to be adventures!  Krakauer takes time to explain a lot of history, which is interesting, and he also details the evolution of the commercialized Everest climb.  The latter, in fact, was the primary motivation for Outdoor magazine funding Krakauer's trip to make the climb with a guided group.  Much to his shock, it would end up an event that would rock his world, and he'd never be the same.

Coming out of the read, I had a lot of mixed feelings.  I am always a critic of commercializing anything.  The problem with Everest is that it has become something trendy to do (with your tens of thousands of dollars), but unlike piercing your belly button or deciding to go vegan, it can actually consume the untrained (as well as the trained).  In my book, this makes it enough to not do it.  However, to take it a step further, there is also the natural outcome of commercializing--trash.  The mountain has become littered with empty oxygen canisters, among other human refuse.  The counter to these problems, though, is that the climbing industry has brought the sherpa industry, which in turn, benefits local families.  I won't get into the general economic boost for the countries surrounding Everest because as is also par for the course, the cost for licenses to climb has sky-rocketed--I would call this government corruption, but I'm sure others have different labels for it.

Overall, this is an interesting read.  It's a bit of a glimpse into the climbing culture, the climbing guide industry and, of course, Everest.  It does not have a warm, fuzzy ending and is quite unsettling at times, so if you pick it up, brace yourself.  Next post will cover my more recently started and much lighter read--A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson.  

The Gas Auction

As a lifelong (pretty much) consumer, I realize that costs of goods vary--from store to store, state to state, country to country, etc.  However, as the price of gasoline sky-rocketed this past week to $3.99/gallon, I took notice of a consumer puzzler.

Just about every gas station I passed along the main roads of Wheeling--National Road, Mt. de Chantal Road--were advertising their regular gas at $3.99/gallon.  But, as I traveled my super stealth back roads home from work since all main roads are currently under construction (such poor planning), I discovered a couple of outliers.

Schmidt Brothers Sunoco station in Wheeling (2811 Eoff Street) had their regular gas priced at $3.79/gallon.  Now, while a $0.20 discount may not seem like much in the big picture, my concern is that we're really pretty much getting the exact same product regardless of which station we choose.  And the fact that the majority of stations made it seem gas had to remain at $3.99/gallon (I think this time it was because of the unrest in the Middle East) became even more of a puzzler for me when suddenly, I noticed a change in the price at the Sunoco.  Oh no, not an increase, but a $0.05 decrease to $3.74.  I greatly anticipated hitting Elm Grove to see how low those stations had gone in the day, but to my great disappointment...they hadn't budged!  As I finished my drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about how simple getting the cheapest gas is as long as the Sunoco lasts in this phase.  I don't even have to spend more money on groceries to earn points to save on gas.  The automatic $0.20 discount comes at no price.  Shocking!

There's one other station in Bethlehem that also has its gas around the same price as the Sunoco on Eoff, but otherwise, I see the $3.99 price everywhere.  I'm sure that in this area of economics, something alludes me just like in many other areas of economics, but it kind of makes it seem like a huge free-for-all on the outside.  All I know is that for the foreseeable future, I will have to remain a Sunoco gal and victoriously cheer Schmidt Brothers each time I cruise by (using their cheap gas).  

Quitting the Caff

I think I may be one of those people who started drinking coffee out of a sippy cup.  That may be a stretch, but every morning for as long as I can remember, there'd be coffee brewing, and I'd get to take in at least a sip or two.  Most times when I was younger, it was decaffeinated.  But, alas, at some point in the timeline, caffeine snuck its way into my coffee, veins and heart. 

As I've been working recently on a better state of overall health, it came to my attention that caffeine was somewhat of a hindrance to that.  Granted, quitting coffee--or at least the caffeinated variety--would be no small feat for me.  It has literally been the best part of waking up for me for at least a decade.  At first thought, I couldn't even get my brain around attempting this.  However, with some will power, I was able to dive in and begin the adventure. 

I had definitely heard of the headache that accompanies quitting caffeine, and I am guessing there had been a time or two I suffered one due to late intake.  But, as I did this in a more mindful fashion this time around, I was stunned by the force of the headache that did materialize.  There was nothing...and I mean nothing...that was going to soothe this pain.  I tried popping a few Advil, figuring they may take the edge off.  No way.  After getting through day one, on day two, I started trying to "google" remedies for a headache that results from caffeine withdrawal.  The best solution was to take a nap.  I'm not sure about everyone, but speaking personally, I'm pretty sure it will not turn out well if I take a nap midmorning at work.  

So, at this point in the process, I decided that it would be best for my body, state of mind and productivity at work if I decreased my amount of caffeine rather than stopping cold turkey.  This required keeping zero regular coffee in the house.  And at this point, I have managed to go from about 3 cups of coffee in a day to one.  I no longer feel charged by the caffeine in a bad way, I feel far less impatient, and, perhaps best of all, I worship that one cup I do have, so I've gained a new appreciation for it rather than seeing it as a non-negotiable start to the day.  Perhaps in the next blog entry, I can explain my new affinity for Tim Horton's small double-double coffee...   

A Tribute to Natural Health

In recent months, I've had to tackle some routine but inconvenient health issues.  These were things that had been misdiagnosed and, thus, not treated correctly when it came to medicine for several prior months or even years.  Part of this is my own fault because I always assumed I was young and didn't really need a comprehensive look at my health.  So, I'd travel often to the urgent care center, and if I went to my regular doctor, I'd keep it quick and not really take the time to divulge everything.

Regardless of the variables, I just happened to find a new doctor who is a D.O., doctor of osteopathic medicine.  I've gotten very lucky, too, because she's extremely thorough and, from her many suggestions, she demonstrates that she lives by what she teaches patients.

I've always been somewhat enamored by medicine--probably because I'm somewhat enamored by the body and its miraculous ways.  But, more recently, I've noticed more and more how traditional medicine really does rely a lot on prescription medications.  While these can be lifesavers, I really don't want to be dependent on them at 30 years of age...I'm sure my time will eventually come.  

So, given the chance to get established with a D.O., I jumped at the opportunity.  I had been to one other one previously, while living in New Jersey, and she practiced no differently from any other M.D. I'd gone to.  Going into this new situation, as a result, left me pretty pessimistic.  But, to my surprise, Dr. Jennifer Burns is the real deal.  She works as a part of a larger practice, run by local veteran practitioner--Dr. James Comerci.  Her approach has been extremely thorough (investigating all possibilities through simple testing like blood panels), but as she has tried to connect the dots on things, she's also given me amazing resources to work with in the meantime.  While this approach requires a little more patience and time, I feel so much more comfortable adding natural elements to my lifestyle rather than making a trip to the pharmacy for some new addition to the medicine cabinet.  She has started teaching me about incorporating targeted supplements, dietary support and behavioral/lifestyle changes.  Best of all?  Using them in combination has really started to improve the biggest challenges I was facing, and I feel much more energetic overall.

While I'm sure there will be times that require more traditional approaches to health problems, I'm really enjoying this new approach to overall health and preventative care.  It's much more engaging on my part, and it doesn't require quite so much faith in everyone and everything else but me. 

Make It Count

As we grow older, we unfortunately must face the intimidating reality of our mortality more frequently.  It's a natural consequence of age that never grows any easier.  I learned today at work that a longtime colleague had passed away suddenly last night.  John Sincavich was an entertaining character with one of the largest personalities I've known.  He worked on our firm's HelpDesk, so I didn't work directly with him on a regular basis and only really did so when my machine would decide to fail me.  However, John and I shared frequent conversation because we worked on the same floor and, thus, ran into one another constantly in the hallways and kitchen.  John, a seemingly peripheral character in my life, left me with some great tidbits of wisdom.  He probably had no idea that he'd done so, but I think the tidbits could serve a wider audience well. 

One of the most common themes laced throughout our discussions had to do with traveling and seeing the world.  John would share his stories of travel in South America and prod me for details of my meager, in comparison, travels within the U.S.  I'll never forget running into him shortly after my return to Wheeling from working in the firm's New York office.  He made a point of stopping me to let me know how pleased he was that I'd taken the time to move away from the area and embark on the adventures I had.  It sort of framed my experiences in a different light.  As he spoke to me, I was equally impressed that he would take an interest and take the time to voice support for what I had done.  What I never had the chance to say in return to him was that his tales of travel to South America were inspiring to me.  Each time he spoke, his face would light up like a child's, and he would recall details like it was yesterday.  It was apparent that this time had left a major impression on him, and it left me grateful.  I was grateful that I had the opportunity to hear how life had been good to him.  I was grateful because I feel so inundated by bad news on a daily basis and yet this peripheral colleague at work was able to single-handedly remind me that life is really good.  And fun!

Another common theme more recently was that of being out in nature.  Somehow, he'd discovered my downtime interests in hiking, kayaking, etc.  So, he'd tell me of his adventures on the river, favorite restaurant experiences as he indulged in his times boating and locations that he'd been to that stuck out to him (i.e., state parks, etc.).  Again, as John spoke during these times, it was with an excitement tainted only by joy.  And by hearing his stories, it inspired me to think even more about the amazing experiences I've had the chance to enjoy. 

And so today, when I learned of John's death, I thought immediately of the void his absence will leave for his wife and son.  I was also touched by a version of that sadness and so decided to take a few moments out of the day and walk down to the river and give John's memory a few minutes of reflection.  As I sat, I realized that the overarching theme of my entire experience of knowing John was that of making it count--making this all-too-short time here count.  Find what you love and do it.  Do what you love and find the answers to why you're here.  Most importantly, when life hands you demands and time-consuming stuff that you may rather not be doing, focus on that time you do have and make it count.  Squeeze in all you can and be grateful.  And remember, you may have a short or long life, that cannot be controlled.  But, how you spend that time?  It's in your hands.       

Morning Fog and Nighttime Crickets

I am a self-proclaimed wimp when it comes to most of summer.  The heat, the sunshine...my body was not made for it.  However, I am a huge fan of the summer months because, as most would observe, nature is so alive and active.

When I get up in the morning, Tucker in tow, our first task is to head outside.  Most recently, when we do so, it's like the hills are in the process of waking up.  The sky only alludes to the sunshine's existence at this time, and this provides just enough light to feature the hills' release of the fog.  While I'm not a major fan of the dense fog that erases one's surroundings temporarily, this gentle morning fog is so beautiful.  It's as thought it has been trained to behave like morning would have it behave.  It quiets everything, gives the illusion of stillness.  And, before you know it, the hills have wiped the sleep from their eyes, and the fog is gone without a trace.  Amazing...and beautiful.

On the flipside of morning, there is bedtime, which brings with it a last trip outside with Tucker.  Just over the past week or so, I've noticed a little Jiminy Cricket that has taken up residence right around the steps to the front porch--perhaps maximizing his potential to benefit from our garden.  (Note that I realize Jiminy Cricket is not the best representation of the real cricket community; however, have you ever skimmed images of crickets?  Creepy.)  After a few trips past him, even Tucker took notice of his audible presence, searching the landscape at his level to determine where this new chirp was coming from.  This went on for a few days before I realized that Jiminy had obviously brought his entire cricket community with him, as the night air is now full of the chirps of many.  And then it was after this that I realized this is the most prominent sound of summer that there is to be had.  What an amazing chorus.

As summer starts to melt (quite literally this year) into fall, I can't wait to see what nature has to bring in the new season.