Author Archives: Deborah Newell

Wanting Something

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…doesn’t make it happen.

You have to work for it to make it happen. It’s not going to come to you by thinking about it and dreaming about it. You can’t just wait for it to happen. You have to do something.

Yes, I’ve heard the saying good things come to those who wait. But I know people who’ve been waiting for years for that good thing to happen and it hasn’t. Because sitting back and waiting doesn’t make it happen, does it?

You have to take a first step in order to make it happen; to accomplish your goal. 

But first you need to define that goal. I don’t mean just saying you want a new job, or start a business, or find a new place to live, maybe lose weight, or find a new relationship.

Those are goals, but a goal can’t begin to succeed unless you have a plan.

Just wanting something, dreaming about something, don’t make it happen. Telling all your friends what you want to do won’t make it happen either.

You actually have to do something to make it happen. Step out of your comfort zone. I know it’s not easy, but if you want something bad enough, that’s what you have to do.

You won’t know what can happen unless you try.

And that first step isn’t easy. But the second is a little easier. 

And by the third and the fourth…you’ve got this!

The Day After

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It always starts with a different feeling in the air. The feeling that today is a new beginning. 

Until it all comes rushing back.

For too many, the day after brings back all of the sadness, the grief, the loss, and we find ourselves once again trying to make sense of it all.

The day after a joyous event is a day to rejoice in, and to look forward to the future. A day of planning and new beginnings.

But the day after a crushing event seems to be another day that will only end in more sadness. A day that we don’t think we’ll get through. A day that has a different kind of new beginning.

But somehow we get through it.

Because we have to.

Because there are others counting on us and looking for direction as to how to continue on.

And somehow we get through it with a strength we didn’t know we had.

Because an ending is also a new beginning. Not one we’ve necessarily looked forward to, but a new beginning nonetheless.

And somehow we do get through it and slowly start our new beginning.

One step at a time. One hour at a time One day at a time.

Until we get where we need to be in our new beginning. And we step out and start over

When Your Memories Are Different from the Actual Events

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It happens all the time; more often than you think.

Why? Because it’s easier than remembering the heartache, the pain, the disappointment. It’s easier to shift the blame on someone else to justify things that happened in the past that we still don’t understand. Or make us feel embarrassed because we did something dumb that we’re ashamed of.

Sometimes we make memories happier than they actually were because the actual memories are too painful to recount. Or we want others to think our lives were happier than they really were.

Sometimes we make up memories in an attempt to either justify something we did, or should have done, because we think it will make us look better in other people’s eyes. Or to make people think we’ve accomplished more than we have.

Or we make up memories in order to hurt others, to make them look bad, usually because we’ve been hurt so badly by them, we want to hurt them even more than they hurt us.

Sometimes the memories start to blur until we have difficulty discerning what was true and what we made up.

Memories can be that way. And as we get older, it’s worse, because our memories slowly begin to decline over the years. But that’s another story altogether.

I’ll admit that my memories of my earlier years aren’t nearly as vivid as I’d like. And it seems the ones I really remember most clearly are ones associated with unhappy events, such as the days surrounding the death of my father, which memories are far more vivid than my few memories of the good times I had with him. Why? Most likely because I was so young, and at those young ages the traumatic times sometimes take over the happy memories.

If I really stop and think about it, there are lots of memories I can conjour up from the past, but they’re ones I don’t dwell on. Yes, many are happy, like my wedding to Ben, and the joy of finding out we were having a daughter, and the happiness when I gave birth to her, but many others are not.

Like the day I walked into my mother’s room at the rehab center and seeing her body  lying there, lifeless, my aunt in a state of shock and crying. I will forever see that picture in my mind’s eye. It’s not something you can forget.

Or the time my husband coded in the ER right before my eyes, as I sat there helpless, watching the staff work their miracles to bring him back. And thankfully they did.

Each and every one of us have such memories. They’re a part of us, and even though they may become distorted over time, we still remember.

Even though we may not want to admit them to others. Because they’re so painful and embarrassing we change them around somewhat to make them less hurtful.

And even while I’m writing this, many of those are coming back to me.

It’s ok, though, because most of us have finally put the hurt behind us and moved on.

And we’ve changed the memories enough so that we can live with them, knowing how far we’ve come, and sensing the good memories that still lie ahead to be made with the people we love.

Pinteresting in my Mind…at 3 AM

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Well, what else can I do at that time when I can’t sleep? I don’t want to get up because then I KNOW I won’t go back to sleep. At least if I stay in bed, there’s still a chance. Not always a good one, but still a chance.

The other night, though…that chance flew out the window when my eyes opened. Both Yorkies were curled up beside me, one against my hip and the other at my feet. And I didn’t dare move because I didn’t want to wake THEM up!

My husband was sleeping soundly as well. And yes, I was jealous! I knew waking him up wasn’t a good idea either.

So what to do? I refuse to pick up my phone that late because the light would disturb the husband and the dogs, well, I’m actually more concerned with the dogs. And it would definitely prevent me from having even a remote chance of more shut-eye.

That’s when it happened.

I’m in the process of planning a baby shower for our daughter. Yes, I have several friends helping me, but I like to collect a lot of ideas and then share them to decide what to do.

And suddenly all the ideas and pictures I’d seen and pinned to my Pinterest baby shower board started running through my mind.  Buffet table displays, cute food ideas, cupcakes and cakes, decorating ideas (including more diaper craft creations), even baby shower games. It wouldn’t stop….

Then it was party food. Although we’d planned most of the menu already, my mind continued to go crazy adding things, and going as far as making a shopping list with store names for each item. In my mind, of course!

Even stranger, I actually remembered all of what I was thinking and was able to write it all down when I finally got up. Boy, do I have a long list of more things to do now!

Anyone else find themselves doing things like this? And I wonder what I’ll end up doing the next time?

Ideas for another book? Another blog or two? Maybe another Christmas tree? 

Personally, I’d rather just be able to sleep….

Ghosts and Catfish

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I know you’re probably thinking what in the world do those two things have in common? Well, in today’s world, quite a bit.

If you’re talking about online dating, that is. There are actually a number of new terms that have come about to describe some of the actions of the users of these dating sites. I had no idea until I looked up a few to fill out this post. 

Fortunately I’m not in that particular world, but I have several friends who are right now. And I have to say, I’m glad I’m not in that situation for a lot of reasons!

First of all I’ve been happily married to my spouse for almost 38 years. That’s a long time, and we’ve gone through a lot. And we’re still together, which says a lot these days.

But for my friends who are not as fortunate as we are, life is a bit more complicated than you’d think it would be in the world of online dating.

First of all let me say that several of our friends have had good experiences with this, and are now happily married to the person they’ve always hoped for. It happens. But it isn’t always as quick, or as easy, as they’d like.

Some of our friends were fortunate enough to find the right one within a few months, and others, well, they’re still searching. 

There are a lot of dating sites out there now. Many offer free trial periods as well as paid subscriptions. Which one is the best? I don’t begin to have an answer because I’m not in that situation. But I sure hear a lot of stories from friends.

It sounds as though most (being at least 51%) of the people on these dating sites are on the up and up, that is, being honest about who they are, what they look like, age, occupation, and what they’re looking for in a relationship. 

There are others, though, who try to make themselves more than they are by, shall we say stretching the truth a bit, or posting photos of themselves that are either a bit outdated, or not even them to make themselves more desirable to others. Or, even worse, “borrowing” or stealing someone else’s identity and posing as someone they’re not. That’s called catfishing, and please don’t ask me why because I have no clue. It’s just a pitfall of online dating. 

Actually I heard a story about a guy who presented himself as a doctor in his profile. He talked about all the good work he was doing, the long hours, and even describing the hospital where he worked. He described his first date with a woman he met online as fantastic, they had so much in common, etc. but she wouldn’t return his calls. The reason: as she said, “you told me you’re a doctor, and then I find out you’re a food service worker in the hospital cafeteria!”

“Well, I figured you wouldn’t want to go out with me if I told you the truth! Can we try again?” Uhh, no. I think there’s an honesty problem here?

Then there’s breadcrumbing. A person  seems interested and will carry on conversations for days. Then stop. Then come back a few days later and start talking again. Talk about getting together. Then nothing. Then it happens again. He/she just wants to keep that person interested in case he/she decides their current relationship isn’t working. Sort of like dating insurance? Or maybe plans to cheat? I’ve had that happen to several of my friends. It’s actually kind of creepy. Time to block them, I say!

And ghosting. Which is just what it implies. The other person starts a conversation that goes on for awhile and may even result in a date or two. Things seem to be going good and then suddenly nothing. No text responses, no return phone calls, just silence. To me that’s not only rude, it’s a lack of manners; a lack of common courtesy. 

If you’re not interested anymore, have the guts to tell the other person, instead of hiding behind your phone or computer. Be honest enough to tell the other person why you’ve lost interest. It may be a simple misunderstanding rather than a perceived problem that can be rectified.

How about orbiting? When someone is constantly checking you out on your social media pages, but not contacting you any more. Talk about weird…and unsettling….

There’s actually a feature program on a local radio station called “Second Date Update” which has people call in who’ve been ghosted and can’t figure out why. They tell their story, and then the hosts contact the other person to see what happened. Now I’d never have the nerve to do that, but some of the stories are quite interesting.

Like the guy who took his first date to his family barbecue. They admittedly both had a great time, but he didn’t call her back. Why? Because his dad took him aside to tell him she was a stripper, and he’d seen her perform at a local club! That was a bit strange. His mom didn’t know about either…

Or the girl who went to the guy’s house for dinner on a first date and found ladies’ underwear in his bathroom cabinet when she was searching for TP. He said it was his sister’s?

Hmmmm….

My advice? If you’re looking to meet someone, try it out. But be careful. And be smart. Meet the person in a public place. Let someone know where you’re going to be, and arrange a way to let your contact know you’re safe. And then let them know when you’re home safely.

And if you’re ghosted, then that person obviously wasn’t worthy of your time! 

There’s always another one.

The Flamingos Tour a Winery?

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You’re probably finding that idea to be a bit unusual just like we did, but after all, they’re flamingos. They love to party and enjoy good food and drinks. 

And as much as they like their champagne and fruited margaritas, they also like good wine! Just like us.

So one early fall morning they strolled in the house and informed us their limo would be there shortly to pick them up. I should be used to these excursions by now, but when they said they were going to visit a winery, I was a bit surprised.

They explained how they found this place a few hours away in the Virginia mountains that specialized in some of their favorite wines, and when the owners discovered they were flamingos, well, they were only too happy to arrange a special day for them there. 

“Don’t worry,” they said as they were leaving, “we’re not driving! Our limo service knows us by now and we’ll be fine. We’ll even bring back a bottle or two for you guys! And don’t wait up for us, because we’ll be late getting back!”

What more could we ask, I guess. However, they at least could’ve asked us if we wanted to go! 

Guess there wasn’t enough room for any more in the limo….

The next morning we found three cases of wine in our foyer, so we guessed they had a good time. However, we weren’t sure whether the wine was ours or the flamingos’!

We found out later when they told us all about their day, and what a fun time they’d had, and of course showed us all their pictures.

The winery looked more like a mansion, a huge estate in the mountains surrounded by acres of vineyards. Being a part time event planner, I immediately imagined planning beautiful weddings and parties there!

They had a private tour of the winery itself and got to see the inner working of a winery. They’d asked about stomping the grapes with their feet, and were quite disappointed to hear that it was no longer done that way.  Evidently they’d been looking forward to that.

After the tour they were treated to a picnic on the grounds of the winery. Complete with wine, of course! The views were amazing! And the food was delicious!

After the picnic it was time for wine tastings. 

Of course they took the time to look through the gift and gourmet shop first. And they had a great time shopping!

But the most fun was the actual tastings!! Of course. Complete with tasty crackers and bites of cheese to help cleanse the palate after tasting each wine.

It’s a good thing they had the limo waiting to take them home! I have no idea how much wine they consumed!

And neither do they! But they did say the limo ride back home didn’t seem to take very long. Most likely they fell asleep or passed out as soon as they crawled in the back!

Gotta love flamingos that like wine! Hopefully they’ll take us the next time!

Walking in Your Own Shoes

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A few days ago she was trying to figure out what shoes to buy. And she really didn’t know what she wanted. Just something new. Something different and exciting.

There were a lot of choices, so many it was really difficult to select. They were laid out side by side in pairs in the “previously worn” section of the store where she always shopped. You know, the one where you buy, or rent, a pair of shoes just for that one day.

So she tried the first section which contained rows and rows of fancy designer type shoes. Nothing like she normally wore.

A high heeled pair was really stunning. They shined and gleamed in the sunlight by the window, calling out to her and promising an exciting world. One in which adventure was just around every corner. They didn’t look like they’d been worn much; there weren’t many scuffs or scratches. The toes were pointed at a sharp angle, which would tend to make everyone take notice of the fashionable, yet probably painful, shoes she chose to wear for an evening of fun and laughter. Shoes to be noticed in, but which would cause her to pay a higher price later. Had they even been worn before? Or would she be the first?

Then there was a really funky-looking pair, in a mixture of bright colors…lime green, bright red, hot pink, and an unusual shade of yellow. They had an open toe in which she could show off her best pedicure, and a chunky heel that would make her appear taller, yet provide some support when she walked. Now they definitely would get her noticed, and she wondered if that’s what she really needed!? But what the heck! Her life could definitely use a bit of spicing up lately.

Moving along she saw a small collection of what was obviously wedding shoes, worn for only one day, and then discarded until someone else needed them. The shoes were amazing, with pearls and lace and shimmering rhinestones ( or maybe they were crystals?!) designed to perfectly match a stunning bridal gown. Some had spiky heels, some just a touch of a delicate heel with pearls on them as well. Shoes to definitely make her feel like a princess. Shoes which had definitely been worn only once to start the beginning of a beautiful new and happy life.

But were those what was she really looking for? And where would she wear them?

There was a pair of plain black pumps, with just the right heel, not too tall, and not real skinny. Comfortable looking, yet conservatively fashionable, something to be worn at an office when you were involved in an important meeting. Or maybe by an attorney looking to give a good impression on a jury. They looked safe, but certainly nothing that stood out or would be remembered. Just like so many of the ones she already had in her closet.

Why not try on each pair, she thought? And see what they feel like?

She tried on the first pair, the shiny high heeled ones. At first they fit well, but as she walked around they got tighter and tighter, hurting her toes and making her feet ache. She closed her eyes and saw herself wearing them at a magnificent party, the kind she only saw in her imagination, where she was in the middle of wealthy important people who quickly made her part of their group. But the longer she had them on, the more the party scenes around her changed to a mix of drunken men who wanted noting more than to grab her and drag her away to a private room.

No, those shoes were NOT for her!

The next ones were a bit difficult to get used to, and at first she had trouble walking in the tall chunky heels. She found herself in a much younger crowd than she was, and although she tried to fit in, no matter what she did, everyone around either ignored her or laughed at her, like they knew she didn’t belong there.

So those brightly colored shoes came off as well!

Surely the wedding shoes would be different. She selected a pair from a beautiful display and put them on, touching the white satin and making sure the pearls were all in place. She felt like a princess, and saw herself in an elegant gown, walking down the aisle to a vary handsome man. Her vision turned into a beautiful reception, dancing with her new husband, cutting their wedding cake, and then heading off to her honeymoon. Surely those shoes were the ones!

Until the scene changed to a few years later, as the shoes were thrown in a box to be discarded that dream marriage collapsed into a messy divorce. She sure didn’t need those!

So she pulled out the plain pumps in the next section. They fit perfectly and she immediately saw herself in charge of a division of a big company company, running meetings and giving presentations that the whole room applauded. “That’s so not me,” she thought.  But again neither were the other ones she’d tried.

She looked a bit further and found a pair of teal blue running shoes, her favorite color. Holding the pumps in her hand so no one else would get them, she tried on the running shoes and immediately saw herself on a path in the park, happily running and enjoying herself immensely. Feeling free. Perfect! She put them aside to buy as well.

After looking around some more, she found several more perfect pairs of shoes. What a great day it had been!

And as she was checking out she realized the shoes she was buying were ones she’d sold to that same store several months ago.

Funny how that works. We always think other people’s shoes are so much better to be in…until we have the chance to wear them for awhile.

Then we find out ours are just perfect…for us!

Walking While Sleeping

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And I don’t mean sleepwalking. That’s an actual condition which involves actually getting up and walking around while still sleeping. More common in children and teens, this may involve brief walks around the house, or sometimes even opening cabinets or making something to eat, then suddenly waking up disoriented and confused as to where they are.

But this isn’t what I’m referring to at all. This is something else.

Lately I’ve noticed there seem to be a lot of people walking around, going through their daily activities at work or at home, and at the same time being oblivious to what’s going on around them.

They either have no idea of what’s going on in the country, or in the world, or even sometimes, in their own immediate circle of friends and family.

They either claim they don’t have time to think about such things; they don’t want to know because it’s usually depressing or uncomfortable; or they figure why care, because they can’t do anything about what’s going on, and it isn’t affecting them anyway.

Sure, they’re tuned in to social media, but only to the point of seeing what other people are doing, where they’re going, what they’re eating, etc. World events? Can’t be bothered. Political and economic issues in the U.S.? They don’t want to know. Don’t care. It’s someone else being affected.

Or so they think. And they continue on until something happens that affects them directly, and they have no idea what caused it or what they should do about it.

We see this happening in those “man in the street” type interviews we see from time to time. People who can’t name the Vice President; don’t know the true meaning of certain laws; don’t know about the war going on in Ukraine; don’t know what the Supreme Court actually does, etc.

And these aren’t actors playing a part. They’re real people, going through their daily lives, walking around while sleeping through the world around them. Oblivious or ambivalent to events that could play a significant part in their futures. Living their lives like actors in a movie, playing a part that isn’t real.

Why is this so bad? Because if you don’t know what’s going on, or don’t care what’s going on, you’ll have no say in what goes on in your city, your state, or your country. They may think they’re happy in their own private world, until that world comes crashing down around them.

And they don’t know where to turn. Or what to do.

How do we wake them up?

Your guess is as good as mine. First of all, they have to change their attitude toward life, and that’s easier said than done. It’s easier to just say “I don’t care” and leave it at that. 

Til they are suddenly forced to care. 

And then they don’t know how to begin or what to do. Because the world is continually changing, and we need to be aware of those changes in order to know how to deal with them.

The Truth About Cataract Surgery

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From a true surgical scaredy-cat “chicken”…

I’ve been told for several years (at least five) that I had cataracts and needed to get them taken care of.

I ignored those suggestions. I wasn’t ready. They weren’t that bad. But most importantly, the idea of operating on my eyes absolutely terrified me. Totally.

I’ve been very fortunate not to have had but a few surgeries in my life. Tonsils and adenoids when I was only 6, and I barely remember. Wisdom teeth out when I was 25. Several laparoscopies in my thirties when I was trying to conceive. A C-Section to have my daughter. And a broken wrist repair about 6 years ago.

For someone my age, that’s really not many. As those of you who follow this blog know, my husband has lost count of all the surgeries he’s had, including cataract removal in one diseased eye and a partial cornea transplant.

But still…I wasn’t having any part of eye surgery until absolutely necessary. And that was that!

A few years ago I even switched eye doctors to another group I liked more than where I’d been going, and as much as I really really liked this new doctor I was still totally hesitant, and told him so.

But unlike the other doctors I’d seen he told me that while the cataracts were ready to be removed, he totally understood how I felt. And when I replied that when the time came, I’d only want him to do it, his answer confirmed that he’d be the one. “I can promise you when you’re ready, if I’m still upright, I’ll do it, and you’ll be pleased!”

Actually it took me three more years to come to that conclusion. After Ben was diagnosed with the beginning stages of glaucoma.

And I knew I had to go ahead and take care of my eyesight now. Although he’s having no problems with his vision other than the glare from LED headlights at night, which are not good for anyone, I decided I needed to go ahead and get the surgery.

Plus I was starting to notice words on the computer were getting harder to read and a little fuzzy, even with my contacts. A lot of my friends were encouraging (sometimes lovingly nagging) me to do it as well.

So I reluctantly told my eye doctor at my regular annual visit I was going to do it. He told me that was a great decision, and I’d definitely be happy afterwards. So we made the pre-cataract 3-hour appointment for the end of August.

I stopped wearing my contacts August 1 because my eyes needed to adjust back to their normal shape, since contacts change the shape of your cornea somewhat. And I’d been wearing contacts for 50 years, so I’m sure mine were totally out of normal shape.

Adjusting from contacts to glasses wasn’t the easiest thing. The first two days even through the first couple of weeks were difficult. Wearing them walking down steps was tricky because they tended to distort my vision either concave or convex, and for someone like me who has vertigo off and on, it was somewhat of a challenge.

But I survived that appointment, even though I had to watch a video about the procedure, which I really didn’t want to know. Making the actual surgical appointments afterward even stressed me out! Then I had to have a retina clearance from their retina specialist prior to surgery. Since dilating my eyes takes some 12+ hours to wear off, I had to make a deal that unless they couldn’t get good pictures of my retina they wouldn’t dilate me. I won that bet!

And of course I got more apprehensive the closer surgery day got. The day before I had to start using special drops in the surgical eye, and I was nervous even putting them in, knowing why I was doing it. (I did say I was a “chicken.”) We went to bed early that Sunday night since we had to be at the surgery center at 6:30 AM.

I didn’t sleep well at all, and was obviously scared to death. I had to put a dilating drop in that eye an hour before I had to be there, and within 15 minutes it took effect. As Ben drove all I could see were colored lights that resembled fireworks. Why did I agree to this?

I was more scared as we walked into the surgery center, which was already filled with people waiting their turn. I couldn’t even bring myself to talk I was so nervous. And when they called me back I’m surprised I could even walk in a straight line.

As soon as I got back to the pre-op area I was immediately told to get on the gurney and they started hooking up the blood pressure cuff, oxygen reader, EKG patches, and even an oxygen cannula.  My blood pressure was up to 157 over something, and I had to explain it was stress. I’m normally around 113.

So far so good.

Until it was time for the IV. My seriously huge phobia. And even though I cautioned the nurse putting it in, it didn’t help. Usually once the needle is in I’m fine, but this time…evidently she did something wrong and kept playing with needle, telling me she had to “fix” it. I thought she’d never stop. (And yes it’s in my chart that she won’t do the next one!) Fortunately the anesthesiologist had already given me something to calm me down and luckily I wasn’t my normal “witchy” self which I’d normally have been.

It seemed like forever that I had to wait, laying there with my mind going in too many directions. Then it was my turn, and I was quickly wheeled into the OR. I remember seeing a large machine lowered over my eye and a metal bar placed in front of me, and the next thing I knew, I was seeing balls of colors swimming around in front of me. I didn’t feel a thing. And then the next thing I knew, the machine was gone, and I was back in the holding area; tired but surviving, and ready to get that IV out!

My doctor came in and told me I did great; the anesthesiologist was there and agreed, and as soon as I was (sort of) awake I was in a chair being wheeled out with my instructions and ready to go home.

I barely remember the ride home, but I do recall actually being able to read well enough to read a few text messages. Then we were back home where I slept for several hours, ate a little something, and went back to sleep.

I have to say the experience, except for the IV, wasn’t nearly what I’d feared. Plus the anesthesia didn’t get out of my system til the next afternoon so I did get a lot of rest, which I probably needed. (Anesthesia does that to me.)

What’s really great is that now, with only one eye done, I’m able to work on the computer without glasses! Before the surgery I was having trouble reading some of my leases and spreadsheets WITH my glasses. Colors are brighter and more vibrant, and since I make jewelry as one of my hobbies, that’s a really big deal!

I will say, for me though, one of the most difficult parts right now is that I can’t wear makeup for at least a week, and that’s tough! Thank goodness I work remotely! (And if my husband says one more time “just put on blusher and lipstick and you’ll be fine” I won’t be responsible for the outcome!)

So let me say now to any of you contemplating cataract surgery, find a doctor you totally trust, and go for it! For those of you who know me personally, you know that’s something I’d never say unless I truly meant it.

I’m even looking forward to the next eye being done so my vision will be even again, and I don’t feel like I’m halfway still looking through fog.

It’s not bad. At all. I’m glad I finally did it. Just like everyone said I would be! 

I just didn’t want to believe them,

Flamingos Need Pampering, Too

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Flamingos at a spa? Impossible, I thought. What in the world would they do at a spa?

When they told me they’d booked a weekend retreat at a very exclusive and probably expensive spa a few hours away, I thought they were crazy.  And I told them so.

“Did you tell them you were a flock of flamingos?” I asked. “What kind of spa treatments can they possibly plan that you all could use?”

They just looked at me and smiled the way flamingos do when they’re up to something. Or when they have a plan they don’t want anyone to know about. 

We don’t call them feisty flamingos without good reason.

And with that, they hurried out to their waiting limo, and said, “Don’t worry about us. We have it all under control. We’ll tell you all about it when we get back!”

Well, at least my husband and I had the house and backyard to ourselves this weekend, I realized, hoping they wouldn’t get into too much trouble at the spa! But I kept my phone nearby, just in case we had to go there and bring them home.

But obviously I was concerned for no good reason, because the flamingos walked into the house Sunday night, looking relaxed, refreshed, and happy, their bright pink feathers looking softer and even seemed to be glowing a bit.

“Let us tell you all about our weekend!” they said. “It was fabulous!” And they had pictures, of course.

The limo had dropped them off at this luxurious pink (of course) spa which was nestled a few hours away in the mountains near a lake. They were shown to their suite of rooms decorated, of course, in perfect flamingo style. There were even pink fluffy bathrobes and slippers for each of them, along with welcoming gifts and baskets of herbal treatments they’d be using.

The next morning the pampering started with a special cucumber treatment for their eyes. And being flamingos, after the treatment was over, they ate the cucumbers! 

Their beaks were soothed and polished with a coconut milk treatment which they thoroughly enjoyed. 

Then it was on to the sauna. Which wasn’t their favorite thing, but they had to try it out.

After a relaxing lunch on the patio by the pool, it was time for more pampering.

This time it was a massage. They’d never had one, so they weren’t sure what to expect, and they were concerned that no one at the spa had experience in massaging flamingos. 

They were assured there were masseuses who had that experience, and actually they did, and the birds received excellent massages with lotions and potions they didn’t know existed!

After all this excitement they were relaxed but exhausted, and looking forward to relaxing on the patio with some refreshing cocktails and hors d’oeuvres.

Spas don’t usually provide alcohol to their guests, but they ARE flamingos, and you just can’t deprive those pink birds of their favorite refreshments. And they were certainly treated to an array of choices, even including raspberry popsicles (most likely with a touch of framboise!).

After a refreshing swim in one of the saltwater pools, they went to bed to prepare for the next day, which started with a yoga class. If you’ve never seen a flamingo doing yoga, well, here are a few pictures!

Then it was time for pedicures! The flamingos enjoyed a luxurious foot soak in a floral and citrus foot bath. And they really needed it, since they’re on their feet all the time in mud and sand as well as ocean water. In fact, the spa had prepared an extra special and extra long session, since their feet needed it so much.

They even selected special nail polish designed to last longer than regular polish. They proudly showed us their toes, and they really did look good! And of course they had designs put on each nail. They ARE flamingos, you know!

The last part of the day was having their feathers washed, conditioned, and fluffed. And I must say the spa did a great job! They even got eyelash extensions!

And they must specialize in pampering animals at this particular spa, because they took a picture of this cute little dog getting her hair done as well!

So did they have a good time? Absolutely! I think these pictures are proof!

And now they want me to go with them next time! That’s something we’ll have to discuss a bit later.

If I Were in Your Shoes

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If I were in your shoes I’d sure not make the same decisions you’re making! I’d do the exact opposite of what you’re doing! You’re just wrong!

How many times have you wanted to tell someone that? Or told someone that, only to hear the other side of the story. To hear how they really felt and what was involved in their decision. And after listening to their story, decided you would probably make their same decision, or something close to it.

Sometimes those shoes do more than hurt; they can actually kill our spirit and our will to continue. They hurt so bad all we want to do is whatever it takes to get them off and put on something a lot more comfortable. A lot of times we want to just put them on someone else so they’d know how we feel.

Too bad it doesn’t work that way.

There have sure been a lot of decisions that I’ve made that others have questioned. And rightly so. I’ve made a lot of decisions based on how bad my shoes were hurting, thinking what I did would somehow make them more comfortable; stretch them out a little. I didn’t really stop to think what would be involved in just getting a new pair of shoes.

I thought they’d be too expensive. I thought it would be way too hard to find what I really liked. That there wouldn’t be that many choices available and I’d have to settle for something I really didn’t like all that well. And I was afraid it would take too long to get used to the new ones.

The old familiar ones were much easier to keep, and just try to ignore how much they were hurting.

When I should’ve just gone ahead and bought new shoes then, rather than keeping the old ones and trying to pretend they didn’t hurt. Because no matter how hard I tried, they just got more and more uncomfortable until I had no choice but to throw them out.

And surprisingly the new ones I bought were surprisingly comfortable as soon as I put them on.

What had I been thinking?

If it had been someone else in that situation and they’d made the bad decision that I did, well, I’d have given them a really hard time. I’d have told them how bad that decision was and why, and told them I’d never make such a bad decision.

Wow. Maybe it’s time to REALLY put ourselves in each other’s shoes.

But it’s not that easy, is it?

The next time you criticize someone’s decisions, try to really put yourself in their place. What are they really going though, and what would you really do?

It’s really not that easy.

You Just Don’t Understand

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How many times have we heard that?

How many times have we said that to someone?

But a few days ago I saw this, and decided it sure fits these four words:

If you don’t call me I’ll understand.

If you don’t text me I’ll understand.

If I forget you you’ll understand.

Yes, our lives are all busy. Days or weeks go by before we realize it.

But a phone call takes only a few minutes.

A text message takes 30 seconds.

Forgetting can take either a few minutes, a few days, or a lifetime.

Because first you have to understand that you were never that important to that person in the first place.