Notes

I am a note taker.

I take notes at meetings. I take notes while reading books. I take notes when thinking. I take notes all the time. And these notes are all over my house.

I find them in obscure places as well as all over in wide open places. They're in books, pockets, drawers, under the bed, in the closet, in baskets...everywhere. There's even an app for that. The one I use is called: Note Everything. It's like the app is luring me to take more notes as well as affirming the fact that I should be taking notes.

Yes, some of this need to jot down everything is due to the aging brain. But, at the same time, it's not like this is something new for me that I decided to start when my brain stopped remembering as well as it did before it decided to be a stereotypical brain and forget things because I got older. Sheesh.

I'm always taking notes about blog post ideas and random thoughts that could be turned in to a blog post or two but not a single one of those thoughts or ideas helped me when trying to write this post for the challenge that had to begin with the letter, N.

Thus, the blog post entitled: Notes.

This is Day 14 of the A-Z Challenge!

Math

It was, without a doubt, the worst subject in school for me. I hated it. It was hard and it required me to sit still and think. I was not a sit still kind of kid. I enjoyed/appreciated and was good at English (I was the Queen of diagramming sentences) and history (I still love it and my love of history was part of the reason I ended up living in an historic city).

But math? It gave me a headache then. It gives me a headache now. The difference? Now, I almost get the logic behind it. And that's quite scary. And confusing. Thus, the headache.

Whenever a student in my school says that he/she hates math, I tell them to think of math as a mystery to solve. They are the detective and the problem is the mystery. It's amazing that a statement so simple makes such a difference in the effort they will put forth.

I don't teach math, and that's a VERY good thing. I teach computers. To elementary students. I teach them how to use computers and computer programs and I also teach coding.

We will be branching out into robotics this summer.

I have no idea what made me thing THAT would be a good idea.

Anyway, one of my addictions is, Ted Talks. Check this one out. Yes, you'll probably have to read subtitles. I did. But, trust me, it's way easier than working out a math problem.

Enjoy!

This is Day 13 of the A-Z Challenge!

Leverage

Leverage can be a good thing when you need help moving a heavy object from point A to point B or when you need a hand up. But it's not that great when people use it against you in an effort to make you do something their way.

One thing about people having leverage over me makes me do is realize when I have done it to others. It also makes me so aware that I keep myself in check in order to not do this in the future. So, that's a good thing.

However, it is quite frustrating when people, especially people close to you, use it as power over you. Let's say, hypothetically, that you depend on someone for transportation and, all is well. You enjoy carpooling together and the time spent with each other can be a great bonding opportunity. Or they let you have full use of the car which is also nice so that you can get to work or run errands or whatever. A car is nice. It provides a certain amount of freedom.

One day, for whatever reason, you discover that you should not express your feelings about living situations, for example, without that person using the transportation situation as leverage against you.

You end up with a relationship in which you had better not utter a complaint or suggestion or wish unless you want the other person to hold something against you. Leverage.

I won't help you  if you do/don't__________ do....
I won't take you anywhere or let you use my car if you do/don't do...
If you don't _________, I will remind you that it is MY car you are using.
I won't continue helping with bills if you don't do things my way.
I won't do anything if you do/don't...

And just like that, someone has power over you.

How nice it would be if everyone just helped out others because it's a nice thing to do. Not because we might get miffed and hold it over their heads.

What motivates us to get and hold leverage over others? Fear of not being in control, perhaps. I almost hope it's more fear related than just being mean or manipulative.

Do others use leverage against you? Do you use it against others?

This is Day 12 of the A-Z Challenge!

Kin

Families are interesting. They can be helpful and supportive or back stabbing and cruel and all things in between.

My family is nuts. That’s right. We’re a bunch of crazies. And I like it that way. LOVE it, as a matter of fact.

My nutty daughters. 

We know how to laugh at just about everything. We would rather find the humor in a situation than get all depressed or angry about it. Not that we don’t deal with what life hands us, we are responsible, but we love laughing.

My two oldest with my dad. 

We've also got the supportive and helpful family which is always a blessing. Though it can be a curse- when one person feels like they give the help and support all the time, but, that’s just what we do.

The four daughters with my dad and my step-mom. We do love  a photo booth. 

One of my favorite things with all of our kin is the family reunion in August. We don’t make it every year but, it’s always good to see everyone when we do. These have been going on since 1934.

The tree from which the silly fell.

And everyone is still just as crazy (in a good way) as ever. We wouldn't have it any other way.

Are there a bunch of nuts in your family tree?

This is Day 11 of the A-Z Challenge!

Don't JINX it!

I am one of those superstitious type folks who believes that if you say something or do something (especially something veering from the norm) that you will jinx the outcome of an event or your entire day.

I always- ALWAYS- put my right shoe on first. And take it off first. Always. I've tried to switch it around but I cannot make myself do that. The thought that passes through my mind when I do try to put the left shoe on first is something like, "No. Something will go very, very wrong today if I do that."

I know it's ridiculous, but I still put that right shoe on first.

During football season, I'm the same way. If a sports announcer makes just the right negative comment about a team, that team is jinxed and they will lose. And they do.

During the summer months (which span way more than three months) I NEVER ask, "Can it get any hotter?" because, if I do, I might jinx it and the answer might be in the affirmative and that would be worse than the unbearable levels the heat already reaches.

Basically, if it's going to be jinxed, I am not the one who's going to do it, if I can help it.

This is me, during football season:

The rest of the year, I'm focusing on the shoes and not asking if it can get any hotter.

This is Day 10 of the A-Z Challenge!

Imagination

Does your imagination ever get out of control? Mine has always done this. I can remember so many times, as a child, I was nearly terrified by things that were not happening or did not exist. My imagination was over active and quite vivid.

This remained a problem even into my college years. Alhough, seeing HALLOWEEN my freshman year and living in an old dorm with wide hallways dimly lit with antiquated light fixtures hanging on the walls, was not helpful.

I could talk myself into just about anything. And I often did.

Why in the world I was so drawn, and still am, to books written by Stephen King is a mystery to me. I was reading one of his books while my first born daughter was napping and someone knocked on the front door. I jumped up, threw the book across the room and screamed like someone was attacking me. Good grief. How ridiculous.

This was about the time that I decided I had better get my imagination under control. So I did. I conditioned myself to block that out-of-control thinking as soon as I had a mere glimmer that it was going to start up. And it's been working fine. Until it invades my dreams, of course.

However, when I am walking the dog before the sun comes up and it's a cool, windy day (and no, it doesn't have to be near Halloween for this to happen) and the leaves are blowing around---they sound like footsteps no matter what I tell myself. Sometimes, I guess, the situation is just right and there's not a darn thing you can do about it.

I will tell myself that it's just the leaves and that I don't need to turn around and look. And then I'll have the conversation about what if I do turn around and look and something or someone IS there? Then what will I do? I'm too old and overweight to outrun whatever it is. So do I want to be surprised by the attack or watch it come?????

I always turn around. There hasn't been anything or anyone there.

Yet.

Does your imagination get the best of you?

This is Day 9 of the A-Z Challenge!

Haunted House Humor

One of my favorite things our family did when I was growing up was go camping on the weekends. Most of the time we would go to the mountains and just have a nice relaxing time. One of the most memorable weekends involved a haunted house and my oldest brother.  

When we got to the campground it was practically deserted --as it was the off season—with only 3 campers in the whole place. Not a problem since there were plenty of us to have fun and go exploring. Once we were set up, it was time to go exploring. 

Once we hit just the right spot in the dirt road, we saw an old house looming ahead on the left. There has never been a better haunted looking house in a Hollywood movie. This place was two stories high with a widow’s walk on top. The siding was old and gray looking with some slats hanging down at an angle from the rusty old nails that could no longer hold them in place. There were steps leading up to a porch that spanned the front of the house. Several of the boards curved up at the edge of the steps and the porch and there were holes where the wood had given up and rotted away. There was a porch swing hanging at one end of the porch and it creaked, just a little, in the breeze. Most of the windows had been broken, leaving half panes of jagged glass and, those that were intact, were covered in a film of dust and age. Through the windows, we could see old, tattered curtains hanging limp. The walkway leading up to the wide steps was no longer level and was cracked in places with weeds growing up through them. The front yard was overgrown with weeds and dead bushes and was surrounded by an old, gray picket fence that swayed in places and had more leaning slats than straight up and down ones. To enter the walkway leading to the house, we had to pick the gate up, that was hanging by only one rusted hinge, and place it to one side. Several old trees that had already shed most of their leaves were on either side of the house reaching out with their spindly arms. It was coming on dusk; there was a slight breeze; and not a sound was heard other than the ever so slight creaking of the porch swing and the occasional rustling of dead leaves.

There were seven of us kids altogether and we decided that perhaps going up to the door and going inside that house was not the best idea we’d ever had. We discussed this in quiet whispers all the while keeping our eyes sharply focused on the house. Finally, my brave brother, Tony, said- in his best 11-year-old manly voice, “I’m not scared. I’ll go in.” The rest of us stood statue still in a bit of shock at hearing his words and Tony had an expression on his face that clearly indicated he, too, was wondering who the hell said that. 

Mere seconds passed as my courageous brother realized that it was indeed his voice and that now, because of his impulsive bravery, he was going to have to go into the haunted house. His steps were shaky and slow as he proceeded up the worn path to the first step. He slowly and carefully placed one foot up on the step and looked back. We were all still standing there with wide eyes and opened mouths. Tony walked up each step with uncertainty and paused to look back again when he stood, nervously, on the porch. We had not moved a muscle. Tony took small, careful, baby steps all the way to the front door and stopped. He gingerly reached out his hand to open the old door. At that very moment that insignificant breeze that had caused only slight movement of the porch swing and a gentle (albeit creepy) rustling of the leaves became a wind. And that wind was strong enough to blow the tattered curtain hanging at the broken windows. that ran vertically beside the front door, out just far enough to brush my brother’s arm.

To this day I do not think that my fearless brother’s feet touched any part of that house or the earth as he spun around and took off! He was beside us and then past us within a millisecond and there was dust behind him as he flew down the dirt road. The expression on his face illustrated terrified quite well with the eyes bugging out and the extreme paleness of his color. As soon as we realized what had happened (and it took a few seconds), we laughed hysterically- half from my brother’s reaction to the curtain and half from sheer relief. 

Of course we had to go off after him because he was running in the opposite direction of our campsites. Along the way we met our parents’ friends who were driving out to visit- complete with Tony on the hood of their car. 

I've told this story quite a lot over the years and I've posted about it on Empty Nest. I never tire of it and the visuals in my head are still vivid. We discussed this particular trip over Christmas and my brother still recalls the haunted house too. 

He's still not laughing as hard as the rest of us though.      

This is Day 8 of the A-Z Challenge!