Monthly Archives: September 2024

The Ups and Downs Of Monthly Themes

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Life has felt very full for the last year so I recently have begun setting a theme for each month and building some goals around that theme. The idea is to focus on a few related projects and actually get something done rather than have a long to-do list with little actually finished.

It started in August when the theme was built around whether or not to keep or trade in my old car. After weighing the evidence, I ultimately traded in the nerdmobile and have been happily zipping around, living with that decision in a new car I’m calling White Lightning.

The September theme has been far more complex as it has dealt with getting my health in order. The most important part of this has been some doctor appointments as well as researching what a new and improved anti inflammatory diet needs to look like. My sluggish thyroid is chugging along with help from a prescription medicine but I think a holistic approach to health and wellness will be the only route to actually feeling good since I’m feeling cruddy even though the labs are fine. 

The thyroid is a notorious pain to adjust. I know people who say they have felt great for twenty years and others who say they’ve spent twenty years struggling with exhaustion and weight gain. These last three years have been pretty awful and I hope to not continue struggling forever. 

Despite my best laid plans for a road to better health, I managed to pick up bronchitis somewhere along the way. I wrote this missive from what feels like my death bed even though I’m sure the sack full of medicine I brought home will pull me out of it soon. 

I tell you all of this, not for pity, but to use myself as an example. 

An example of what, I’m not yet sure! Ha! 

We plan and work so hard to do the right thing, to take care of ourselves and to accomplish our goals but there are times that it feels like we just can’t get ahead. It sucks, it really does.

But imagine how bad things would be if we didn’t try at all. We must keep trying to do what’s right and to fight the good fight. 

The bronchitis will pass. The body aches will be a memory in a few days. This discouraging period will build character and make me better appreciate the good days.

In a two hour span yesterday I was diagnosed with bronchitis, hit a squirrel, ran my new white car through fresh tar (for about the 39th time in a month) and had such a coughing fit in the local grocery store, I had to leave without the oranges I needed. This was particularly demoralizing as everyone in the store and people in the parking lot turned to stare.

And then, at some point I looked in the mirror to notice a little patch of something that looked like dried blood at the corner of my mouth. It was not blood. It was a little bit of dried blueberry juice from the pancake I had for breakfast. How many people did I see before noticing this? I really don’t know.

For the mishaps, there were good things too. My parents picked up my oranges. My boss told me to take care and get some rest. A woman at the doctors’ office recognized how bad I felt and had me go first in line to check out. I don’t know who she was but I was beyond grateful. Plus, I got to sleep away the afternoon in a cozy bed. 

See? Things aren’t so bad. I’ll be better again soon and back to adventuring and unlocking the mysteries of my thyroid. And someday, I’ll be brave enough to return to the grocery store where I made such a scene!! Meanwhile, I’ll check the mirror before going out in public after eating blueberry pancakes! 

By the way, next month’s goal will revolve around Autumn activities – both adventures and work around the yard! Stay tuned!

Complaining

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If there’s one thing I should have learned by now it’s that I shouldn’t complain. It does no good and sometimes I think it’s just a form of asking for trouble. Last Sunday was a lazy day and one that felt wasteful. So I complained about feeling like I had squandered the day.

Fast forward to this weekend and  something akin to allergies or a sinus infection, has taken me down, dashing any hopes I had for fun or productivity. As I write this, I’m a mouth breather with one watery eye and an achy body. However, I refuse to complain. Sometimes the body just needs a few days to unapologetically be unwell and to rest, recover and reset. 

Instead, I will be grateful for medicine, a full box of tissues and a comfy spot for napping. I am also grateful knowing that I’ll feel better soon and that brighter days are ahead. 

I hope.

On Sacred Ground At Historic Christ Church

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Silence is underrated. So is being in the presence of history. Once in a while, I’m fortunate to find myself in a place so heavy with significance that you can feel the sacredness vibrate through your body if you know how to listen for it in the silence.

I’m grateful that I appreciate these things and that I know how to wait for the vibrations. 

Day two of our Philadelphia adventure was marvelously packed with all kinds of good things. Breakfast from a cute cafe around the corner, the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross’ home, a ridiculously good lunch at an Irish Pub, shopping, and the list goes on. We really packed it in. 

But at some point that day, we found ourselves having just escaped a chaotic place and standing on the sidewalk outside Christ Church. 

This church was founded in 1695 and is the birthplace of the American Episcopal Church. This building was constructed in 1744 and the steeple was added ten years later thanks to a fundraiser organized by Benjamin Franklin. 

Those founders of our nation who believed in the concept of separation of church and state? Many of them worshiped here.

George Washington, John Adams, Robert Morris (financier of the American Revolution, signer of the Declaration of Independence, the Articles of Confederation and the U.S. Constitution), Benjamin Rush (signer of the Declaration of Independence, members of the Continental Congress and many others prayed here, knelt here and sought spiritual guidance for the revolutionary ideas that helped to build a new nation.

It was five bucks to go in and look around. Ten for a guided tour. All the money goes back to the preservation of the property and they have done a great job at that. 

Friends, I got to sit in the pew where Betsy Ross worshiped. I got to sit as the world went by around me and consider the perspective that she had on the world while she was quietly sewing her place into American history. 

There were a few other visitors like us. My friend chatted with a volunteer. I sat quietly and soaked in my surroundings. I wasn’t interested in talking or learning. I didn’t want to make new friends. I wanted to just absorb the air around me, to feel the pew, to notice how the floor felt beneath my feet and to appreciate the soaring ceiling that reached toward the heavens. 

It was the most peace I have felt in a long time and I was beyond grateful to have that experience. 

We were preparing to leave when three women marched in the front door, past the sign with admission details and started past the young woman who was selling admission tickets. She was extremely polite as she welcomed the ladies and let them know there is a $5 admission. The women looked annoyed and one said “well, it isn’t worth that!” They turned and left without even saying thank you.

Don’t be those women. Be a nice visitor. Pay attention to your surroundings and at least be polite to the volunteers or the low paid service workers who are there to help. Honestly, the experience I had in that old church was worth more than the price of admission. Not to mention, it goes to a good cause. Imagine the weight of responsibility being caretakers for such an important piece of our nation’s history. 

I walked away completely at peace, breathing better and feeling more equipped to take on the rest of the day. It was well worth the time and money to have such a close brush with our nation’s past on sacred ground. Worship in person or visit them online for information.

Suffering Succotash!

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My dentist made me get a night guard earlier this summer. This came after his dad (and my former dentist) did his darndest to convince me I needed one for years.

They say I clench and grind my teeth and am doing permanent damage as a result. I resisted because I know myself well enough that I was certain it would not be a happy situation. 

Turns out we were both right – I do need it and I do hate it. 

To be precise, I hate this thing with the fire of a thousand Ohio August suns. Just the act of having this foreign object in my mouth is enough to set me off.

Earlier this week, I laid in bed trying to decide if I sounded more like Cindy Brady or Daffy Duck when trying to talk. A few failed attempts at enunciating the phrase “suffering succotash” proved that you can call me Daffy. 

I have taken to soaking it in mouthwash right before bedtime and that has made it more palatable. It’s a necessary evil so I’ll wear it but you can bet I’ll be doing my Daffy Duck impersonation until I fully adjust. 

Suffering ssssuccotash!

The Shock Of A Bad Bookstore

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Bookstores are always my favorite places and the source of many souvenirs when I travel. Big stores, little stores, new and used bookstores and especially the ones with shop cats are all my favorites for different reasons.

I seek them out in my travels and never hesitate to support a local bookstore when given the chance. Each one has a different vibe, a unique personality. I like the used shops where I can expect to find the unexpected like some out of print novel with a gem of a cover. I also like the new ones with their comfy couches, carefully controlled lighting and selection of new books just waiting to be discovered.

Wheatberry in Chillicothe, Ohio is my closest bookstore and I always try to stop in if I’m in downtown. They focus on new books with just a small shelf of used in the backroom. It’s like whoever does their ordering knows exactly the kind of fiction and nonfiction I like and they always have the best selection of seasonal works to peruse.

My favorite regional chain is Tattered Cover in the Denver area. The fact I don’t live close enough to shop there regularly is one of life’s great disappointments. Their staff picks include a note card that describes why they like the book and the selection is divine. Maria’s in Durango, Colorado and Beyond Bedtime Books in Pittsburgh are favorites. There’s one called Little Switzerland Books and Beans that we stumbled into just off the Blue Ridge Parkway, convincing me that I can sniff out a bookstore nearly anywhere.

I could go on and on with recommendations.

That’s why it’s rare for me to leave one empty handed or to be annoyed in a bookstore. So far, I have found just two that I despise. Both make me claustrophobic and one was in Philadelphia during this last adventure.

It was a used bookstore with extremely tight walkways between shelves that was so cluttered with stacks of boxes, walking was difficult. Some rows were completely blocked by boxes stacked no less than three feet high. To make things harder, it was busy and passing a person in an aisle wasn’t possible in places so you just had to wait for people to move.

The place is a hoarder’s paradise. Actually, it looks like a book hoarder lost control of their obsession and hung out a shingle. The guy running the place reminded me of a little kid sitting in a fort made of books. 

It is not an exaggeration to say that I had a physical reaction to this place. My stomach turned continuous somersaults and I broke out into a sweat. I could hardly breathe even when the door was in sight. . To add insult to injury, prices written inside the covers were nearly illegible so it was hard to know if you were about to pay a dollar or seven or maybe a hundred. Who knew? 

The one redeeming quality here was the shop cat. I saw it once, luxuriating in a patch of sunlight. I knew I was struggling when I didn’t even stop to speak to the cat. I literally just scooted past and looked for the exit. 

I feel my blood pressure rising just telling you this crazy story because bookstores are supposed to feel like a vacation from the rest of the world rather than a reflection of the messy, terrible problems that lie beyond their front door. 

Also, I would like to note that in all the junk stores, antique malls and tiny shops in all the places I have been, none has brought on such a reaction. The other store I don’t like is in Columbus and it also makes me claustrophobic but I can usually hang in there long enough to find a book or two to bring home. In other words, it doesn’t make me want to puke!

We left this store and found ourselves walking past Christ Church. This was exactly the respite that I needed to recover and be ready to face the rest of the day. Come back in a couple of days and I’ll tell you all about this place that felt so steeped in history and so sacred, I could barely speak.

Living History With Betsy Ross

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The Betsy Ross House sits up against the sidewalk in Philadelphia’s Old City. It might be easy to miss amidst all the other historic buildings if you aren’t paying attention. You enter via a shaded courtyard that leads into a gift shop where you purchase tickets and access the home.

As part of this self guided tour, you learn that this place we call the Betsy Ross House never actually belonged to the Ross family. In fact, she and her husbands never owned a home. This house was owned by Hannah Lithgow, a widow, who rented rooms in her home. Today, we might call it a boarding house. 

The house has been restored to how it might have looked when Betsy lived there and they know which room likely belonged to Betsy. The fact it was purchased and preserved for prosperity in the late 19th century saved this building from the many travesties performed on old homes in the 20th century. Still, it sounds like there were some issues to contend with like a window that had been converted into a door for a balcony that was added on at some point. The fireplace in Betsy’s room had been covered up and wood was salvaged from the floors for other projects. 

While American school children are well familiar with the name Betsy Ross and the role she played in creating the first American flag, this wasn’t always the case.

It wasn’t until 1870, when her grandson William Canby delivered a speech to the Historical Society of Pennsylvania that her story was shared publicly. Before that, it was told within her own family and their circle of friends. 

By 1898 this Arch Street home had been identified as the place where Betsy lived and it was purchased jointly by Charles Weisgerber, the American Flag House and Betsy Ross Memorial Association. 

I asked a docent about her favorite piece in the house and she was quick to tell us to look for something we might not have noticed. Betsy’s own sewing box is located in her bedroom. It’s on the floor, next to the flag that’s draped over her work chair.

Something to note about that flag is that there was no U.S. Flag Code in Betsy Ross’ time. There’s a sign that explains they chose to display the flag across a chair and the floor to give an accurate representation of what it would be like to stitch such a large, bulky flag. This one is a ten foot flag, a common size in the 18th century. 

Never fear! The flag is not actually touching the floor. In compliance with our modern Flag Code, there is a cloth underneath the flag to prevent it from actually touching the floor. 

This is a self guided tour and there’s not a ton to see or touch. However, I highly recommend the tour. First of all, there is a Betsy Ross reenactor who clearly is a skilled seamstress. She does a lovely demonstration and can answer all manner of questions about the flag, about things related to sewing and about Betsy Ross. She breathes life into this human being.

Plus, there’s something special about roaming the home of one of our nation’s most famous people who didn’t live in the limelight. She lived quietly, performing her patriotic duty without seeking fame or fortune. We got to walk the narrow curved steps she traveled each day and we got to breathe the air of a home that was designated as historic a century and a half ago. Guys, her sewing box was on display for all the world to see! 

It is a lovely experience and inexpensive too. There are few barriers to prevent an active imagination from running wild with the promise of the history that was made here. Go see it or at least check it out online.

They have activities and live performances throughout the day. Be sure to also stop and pay your respects at Betsy’s grave.