family

Guess the Smell

It’s 7 am on a Sunday. Time to hit the field for day 2 of a tournament. You are in a hotel that thankfully has a bedroom and an open area meaning there is a room with a door that closes. You remain on the open space side for many reasons.

At 7 am you open the door to bedroom to gain access to the bathroom and poof. You are immediately stopped in your tracks with the smell. The scent of sweaty socks. The aroma of a uniform that baked in the heat the day before. The lingering stench. Oh so awful. 

These items are doused with spray to make it another day in the heat wave. On the same body that drenched them with sweat the day before. What will the outcome be at the end of today? Let’s start with a dripping wet uniform and socks that must be immediately removed and placed in a bag to be sealed and put in the trunk for the entire ride home. 

You see the car ride is a whole 12 hours from this tournament. The stink must be contained or we may possibly die of the fumes while in motion. Let’s also note this is not just the uniform and socks. I have yet to get to the bag. The bag which was in the car all night that has cleats and turf shoes in it. One pair is new one pair is old. It simply doesn’t matter. Once the shoe is worn once the stink is embossed in the shoe. Another level of nasty. The foot stink of an elite athlete. Is there anything worse?

I thought my brother’s hockey bags were bad as a child. I thought my gym bag was awful growing up but I have met a new level of gross. My child’s sweet nasty funk. The lingering stink that will turn your stomach. The nasty uniform that you must retrieve from that sealed bag to launder. The socks that were new but now look like they have been worn for weeks without washing. Can bleach even help?

At my house we use laundry detergent. We use bleach on the items that can be bleached. We then use a sports powder to soak away the nasty and it does as the water definitely turns black or grey. We trust in Downy to freshen up what it can. We move on. We repeat this numerous times over a 10 week summer season. Over and over again as somebody thought it was a good idea to use the jersey for games as a pinnie in practice two days a week. 

That means that poor stinky jersey sits in the nasty gym bag fermenting for two days between the weekend of games in which it is then sealed in a plastic bag. I don’t know how this jersey doesn’t grow mold. This is such a disgusting topic but one I know I’m not alone with.

Stinky shoes. Stinky feet. Stinky jersey. Is there a reward with all the stink? I think not. However, I have the pure joy of watching my child do what they love at an elite level while chasing dreams. When I put that perspective into the mix I undoubtedly say the stink is okay with me. Although I will be fumigating my car and anything in close proximity to the infamous bag or uniform pronto.

No deep breaths today. Lots of mints in my mouth to inhale the scent of mint to get through yet another day. What’s your worst stink story? Can you relate to my stinky experience? Can you smell this post?

change, perspective

Packing Purging Refreshing

Some times life throws you a curve ball. In a blink of an eye life shifts you in one direction when you thought you were on the road that drove the other direction. How could that be?

One opportunity opens as another one closes. I’m sure you heard the phrase before. Right now I’m taking the opportunity to pack up, organize my life, purge the unneeded and shift to my newest direction.

A curve ball to some. An experience of a sorts to others. You see life is what you make of it. If you see rainbows, lollipops and sunshine ahead then that’s what you will see on the horizon. If you focus on the negative you not be so lucky and only see clouds of grey most days.

Each day we make a choice to rise and grind or not. I’m always on for grinding except today when I have a rest day planned and maybe a nap.

The packing and purging of today will set me up for the success in 2022 of an office relocation. Fun times ahead.

perspective

Out With the Old

Out you go! In with the new. Cleansing is going on around me. Recycle, repurpose, redirect, reconfigure, remove, renew, etc.

Sometimes you need to reshuffle life. A fresh perspective. Some old items are sort of new these days. Maybe they were rehomed or repurposed. Meaning they will live another day despite their age. Maybe they just needed a new environment. Maybe some new paint. Maybe some buffing or waxing. Maybe even a recycling project of sorts. Taking older components to reuse in a different way making them new but still old. Recycling is good for the environment and has many benefits.

Speaking of old, I got rid of an old car. Not a super old car but one that still had many miles left to go. It was pretty. It was fun. It took many adventures. Only it was time for something new. Out it goes!

A new purpose. A different look. A unchartered kind of road ahead for its owner and companions. Nightfall has come. A new journey begins. Off we go.

Have you had to let go of something in the past to make room for the future? Many have to experience this in life. Sometimes with the arrival of a new baby something has to go. Maybe when aging something must go. Maybe if downsizing is needed something must go.

Cleansing is a process. Maybe you can just start cleansing your social media followers list as a practice activity. See who you miss and who you don’t. Out with old. Off we go. Go, go, go as Dr. Seuss would say.

health, perspective

Doctor Doctor

Who called the doctor? Seems like many I know had to call the doctor this week. Maybe things are getting back to normal after COVID or maybe just the opposite.

Let’s start with my visit to the doctor. The dermatologist to be specific. Nothing traumatic or life altering just a quick zappy in and out visit but how this visit seemed so different!

It started in the parking lot. The parking lot is a make shift COVID drive-thru testing site. You see the white tent. The medical staff all suited up in hazmat gear in 90 degree heat. Same as it’s been for months but the past few days there were lines around the building and to the street. Why the mad rush?

After sorting through that I had to go into the medical building which has a pharmacy in the lobby. It seemed to be a senior citizen magnet spot. Walkers, wheel chairs, masks and lots of slow moving people. Once you maneuver that traffic you hit the elevator.

The elevator had signs for two people at a time so there was a wait. Then the two masked individuals look at each other like who is gonna press that button that could possibly have COVID on it. I just hit it. That opened up a conversation with the stranger who said she was glad I had a mask on or she wouldn’t have ridden with me. Interesting comment but I had to wear one for my appointment. No big ordeal for me.

Now I arrive at the second floor to have my temperature checked and had to answer a questionnaire. Then I could proceed to the window or shall I say plexiglass now. But again it’s different.

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Every other seat is marked off like a restaurant. Signs on the floor noting social distance rules. So much change. It’s a lot to comprehend. Then there is the chatter in the lobby. Should schools start up? Do you wear a mask outside? Just different chatter than pre- COVID. This was an experience for me. A people watcher I am. An observer. I took in so much this day.

Then I heard the news. My gym shut down. Somebody tested positive and a deep clean was needed. That was the first boom. Then a friend tested posted for COVID which was boom 2. Then another friend was exposed and had to go for test and is now playing the wait-and-see game. And let’s not forget about all the mental health mailers, emails and announcements circulating. Many are overwhelmed and really need the doctor.

The world we live in today is ever changing. A simple visit to the doctor is so much more complex. Society is weighing risks at every turn. Commerce has changed in so many markets. People are self-shamed when they let others know they have tested positive for COVID. One friend said it’s like telling the world you have an STD. Just not a proud moment in life. Hadn’t really thought about that.

As I worked this day I looked up at a cell tower and thought we have so much technology. The sky is the limit in so many arenas. Yet we are all frozen in COVID times to some extent.

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Will normalcy revert back any time? What is normal now anyway? Is anyone else sick of  COVID and the havoc it’s wreaked in your area?

I just needed to go to the doctor and somehow I ended up on this rant. At least I got a in-person appointment because telemedicine wasn’t a fit for my need.

Here’s to hoping I get to stay away from the doctor moving forward. It seems less stressful.

family

A Cast From the Past

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Sometimes you run across a piece of paper that stops you in your tracks.

I was going through some boxes of old family “stuff” when I found a large old brown envelope of sympathy cards.  After sifting through several of them, I realized they were cards sent to my maternal grandmother when my grandfather, her husband, passed away.

Holding those cards transported me back to when I was about 6 or 7 years old.  He was the first person that I can remember dying.   I recall I had a solo singing Jingle Bell Rock in my school first grade Christmas program. I wore a green dress with candy canes on the bib and a white blouse with a scalloped collar.  I remember my mother wasn’t there to see me sing.  At that age, I couldn’t really understand what was happening.  Why my mom sat slumped over on the bed, her back to me, sobbing.

All I knew was my mother wasn’t there to see me sing.

Flipping through the cards now. So many beautiful cards, most simply finished with a signature. Names I didn’t know. People who loved and remembered.

Then, a different kind of card.  No lilies or angels or cursive sympathies.  Flat. Engraved with black letters. Someone had given a book to a library as a way to honor my grandfather’s death.  And it was a book about fishing.

It was a full circle moment for a couple of reasons.  First, I am a librarian.  So a book memorial has special meaning for me.  And then, my daughter, Dianne, who bears the name of my mother, loves fishing.  So knowing there is a book out there, in a library somewhere, all about fishing, to honor my granddad felt both sublime and bittersweet.

Finding that card was like a cord running through generations. A moment of connection with a long distant past. I had no idea my grandfather loved fishing, even though he lived a stone’s throw from Lake Chautauqua.  It was a smile down from a man lost decades ago as well as his daughter, to me and my own daughter who shares her name.

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