Posted on September 9, 2004
My current form of exercise is an hour of weeding every day. While this may not sound strenuous, I’ve already lost a pound this past week; and my body feels more stretched and limber than before. My yard looks better in the deal too.
I’m not sure Weight Loss through Weeding is ready to go national on an infomercial or training video, but I am developing a prototype just in case. Here are some of my “rules” regarding the new regime.
First, weed with all your might. This means bending over, grasping the offending weed, and pulling with the arms. It doesn’t mean taking a clippers and doing a hedge job. Second, when you transplant flowers from the backyard to the front, push that shovel with energy and lift the moving flower family with verve. Plant them in the new location with excitement. Everyone benefits.
Third, when you are blowing your deck or raking your lawn, make the arms work. Move them in circles big or small; hold the tool – either the blower or the rake – with intentionality and concentrate on making a statement about you and your yard.
Traditional dieting and weeding are both approached reluctantly even though the benefits are visible to all. Nobody really enjoys either activity, but I submit that Weight Loss through Weeding is more enjoyable, since you’re basking in the sun, reducing your stress level, and eating whatever you wish.
Dr. Atkins and the Curves people had better beware!
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Things to Ponder
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Posted on September 8, 2004
My friend, Judi, works in the corporate world, but even if she didn’t she would dress the same. She loves Eileen Fisher, who – I think – is a women’s clothing designer. (You can see how much I know about women’s clothing by my hesitation.) Judi loves Eileen to the point where that is the only label she buys.
Actually, from my friend I know that Eileen Fisher is not cheap; but Judi is, if anything, a great shopper. We’ve been friends over thirty years, and I am regularly amazed as her prowess in the retail arena. But I digress . . .
Judi says she wears Eileen for practical considerations. She likes that everything has an elastic waist for comfort’s sake. Long skirts hide legs that are more at the end of their dancing days than at the beginning. The colors are subdued, and the opportunities to buy Eileen on sale are great.
“It’s my signature,” Judi said during one conversation about clothing. “I have to get up early to be at work and I don’t have to spend a lot of time deciding what I’m wearing each morning.”
Another thing Judi likes is that Eileen Fisher uses her own employees, rather than professionals, as models in her advertising. I’d like to nominate Judi, even though she isn’t an EF employee, for the next marketing campaign.
See more 10 Minutes in category Things to Ponder
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Posted on September 7, 2004
The pen and paper approach to writing letters is on the endangered species list of social graces, because snail mail simply hasn’t evolved as much as its cousin, the email.
However, there is a certain pleasure in opening one’s physical mailbox and finding more than a bevy of bills or a collection of catalogs inside; and the rare handwritten letter that finds its way to my door makes me feel special. I smile and mentally thank its sender.
Time was when previous generations wrote copiously. My grandmother and her older sisters corresponded back and forth every week for years. My mother and one of her best friends from nursing school did too. Even I carried on a three-year correspondence with my friend, Carol, when I moved away from St. Louis and she stayed behind. She saved all my letters, and today they are a hilarious glimpse of the teenage years we shared.
Maybe email is encouraging a renaissance in letter writing, but it is a different kind of communication altogether. Even if you print the email, it doesn’t have the same personal feel as a letter written in the familiar script of a close friend or relative. Someday, hand written letters may be totally extinct, so if you have one that you treasure, you might want to do what Earl did. He framed and displays a charming letter from his mother written in 1987. It’s not a bad way to decorate a shelf.
See more 10 Minutes in category Nostalgia, Writing
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Posted on September 6, 2004
My friend, Peg, visited overnight. We had a grand time going to the supermarket and then cooking dinner together, something we‘ve done before. I had thought we’d get into semi-serious political debates with Earl, who shares an opposite point of view from ours, but we didn’t.
There were reasons.
“The season is hostile,” Peg said, as she and I drove to Michigan’s finest fruit stands in the glow of a September afternoon and then to the supermarket for what doesn’t grow vines. “I’ve made a new rule never to talk with someone about politics unless I’m sure that person agrees with me.” And she cited several uncomfortable, unintentional debates she had been party to prior to instituting this rule.
We spent a fine evening over shrimp and scallops sharing conversation with Earl and catching up on each other’s day-to-day lives. It was most enjoyable. But, given Peg’s new dictum, we didn’t touch on politics at all.
I hadn’t thought about it until our conversation, but she is right. The voices are more strident this year, the rhetoric more polarized, and the ante higher. Yet, one thing that makes us great is that we accept dissent and diversity. At the same time, that trademark seems to be slipping away if old friends cannot differ with each other without taking personal affront.
See more 10 Minutes in category 2004 Election
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Posted on September 5, 2004
It’s probably just coincidence that the real football season, as opposed to the preseason games, and the real campaign for the United States presidency, as opposed to the pre- convention catcalling, kick off on the same weekend. On the other hand, maybe it’s not, as there is more than one similarity between the two arenas.
I am not a football aficionado, so my understanding of the rules of the game is limited. The same goes for my knowledge of politics. But I do know that there are two sides, both intent on beating the ##$$%% out of the other side in hopes of scoring the most and winning the game. Each side huddles and then comes out with its game plan, which is subject to revision as the clock ticks away. There are referees everywhere, making sure the players conduct themselves within the rules and also going in huddles to hand down a ruling in close calls.
Then there are the Monday morning quarterbacks, those who use the radio waves to proclaim what should have been and those who sit, equally disheartened, in armchairs waiting for the next opportunity to meet the same opponent once again. It could be next week or in four years.
The presidential campaign is scheduled to go on for another two months, while football season stays with us until the end of January. I’m not sure which season will really feel longer, since football games don’t occur every day while political campaigning never takes a break.
Hey, maybe this is something the political football players might consider to give us spectators a breather. How about Friday night, Sunday night, and Monday night campaigning with the rest of the week off for resting up?
See more 10 Minutes in category 2004 Election, Things to Ponder
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Posted on September 4, 2004
They don’t call me Twolimes for nothing. In fact, that is one of my current email addresses on AOL, a name I’m about to shed.
It began when I accidentally started drinking Absolut at a cocktail party about thirteen years ago. I’d never had Absolut before but something possessed me at the moment the bartender was ready for my order. Maybe it was those crazy ad promotions the Absolut people were plastering all over the place at the time.
I casually said, “Absolut on the rocks with two limes, please.” And I held up two fingers to emphasize the number of lime slices. Even over the din, the bartender got the message.
So when I joined the AOL family, a year or so after the cocktail party, I needed an email address that was no longer than eight letters or numbers combined. What could work better than Twolimes@aol.com? Of course, this was mostly for my family and friends. My clients communicated with me through another, more professionally sounding, email address.
But, as of September 10, I’m giving up AOL and am retiring my email addresses. It doesn’t matter whether you fall in the friend or client category, you can now communicate with me best via Anne@AnneBrandt.com. And I still plan to drink Absolut. With two limes.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Me/Family
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Posted on September 3, 2004
As September and Labor Day roll around, I always remember the phrase “ . . . never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
Ernest Hemingway took part of that phrase for the title of his famous novel, For Whom the Bell Tolls; but the original phrase came from John Donne, who lived in England from 1572 to 1631. It’s the schoolbells that bring the phrase to mind.
September, not January, is the real beginning of the New Year. September: when children go back to school, to a new grade and – from time to time – a new physical location. It’s all part of growing up.
September is when families return to normal schedules, rather than summer nonchalance. September is when the world becomes serious again. September is when those who have never had children or no longer have children in their midst must stop their lives for schoolbusses.
I haven’t had children in my home for over a decade, but I still feel the surge of promise, the excitement of returning again to the familiar, the ability to begin anew. So when you see that schoolbus, never send to know for whom the bell tolls.
It tolls for all of us.
See more 10 Minutes in category Me/Family, Special Events
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Posted on September 2, 2004
I went to the local hospital yesterday afternoon to have a phlebotomist take a blood sample. My annual physical is next week, and my doctor wanted empirical data based on blood samples about my well being. I can’t say I disagree with him entirely.
Modern medical techniques enable physicians to diagnose and treat small problems before they become life threatening or lifestyle threatening. This is a good thing.
However, I remember a time when the patient’s feelings held as much sway as a blood test. When the doctor listened to my heart and me and then ordered tests, if they were necessary. Today, we do the testing first.
My doctor will have the feedback by my appointment. Then he will suggest various courses of action based on that feedback. In exchange, I will offer how I feel or what I think. I’ll ask how my family’s medical history of colon cancer might influence his recommendations. In between the touches of the cold stethoscope, we’ll talk for a few minutes and come to some mutual conclusion.
When I moved to Michigan, I looked around for a doctor who viewed his practice as collaborative rather than authoritative. Dr. S. still wants those diagnostic tests, but he agrees that I’ve lived in my body longer than anyone else has and listens what I have to say about my residence there. I appreciate him for that.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Me/Family
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Posted on September 1, 2004
My friend Peg comes this Labor Day Weekend to hang out at River House. I can’t wait, since she is a card carrying Democrat and by then I’ll need reinforcements. The Republican National Convention will be over, but the images will linger.
I alerted Earl about her arrival and he said (This is a direct quote), “If she starts that Democratic &*%^#@, I’m going to throw her in the river. “Don’t do that until Sunday,” I suggested. “She’s planning to cook for us Saturday night, and you know she’s a dynamite cook.” “Then I’ll eat on the deck, alone,” he answered. I called Peg and told her to bring a swimsuit.
Earl, Peg, and I go back a ways. We’ve observed Chicago politics and Washington chicanery together before. We’ve done national conventions too, always with Peg and me on one side and Earl on the other. Two to one might sound lopsided, but Earl holds his own rather well.
So this Labor Day Weekend will be filled with supercilious remarks, one-upmanship, double entrendres, and lots of laughter. We’ll cook, drink, talk, and not convince anyone to change his or her political affiliation. It’s a great way to end the summer.
Posted on August 31, 2004
Maybe you’ve had the annoying experience of starting a letter in Microsoft Word and having that little paperclip icon show up to announce he’s ready to help you. Whether you want his help or not!
I find this most annoying, since I pride myself on being able to compose and format a letter in acceptable style. Additionally, I have taken the time to see what Mr. Paperclip Guy, who is really called Clippit in the Microsoft World, has to offer. Since I already know the various formats he proposes, it doesn’t seem like much. I’ve solved the address functions he offers too.
So . . . what can one do to rid oneself of this icon?
If you are really serious about it, don’t take time to write Bill Gates. Instead, follow these easy instructions and Mr. Paperclip Guy (aka Clippit) will recede from your life. I use the word ‘recede’ rather than ‘disappear’ since Microsoft Word is cagey about making you conform to its whim. If enough people disengage Clippit, we are sure to hear about it.
1. Go to Help
2. Click on Microsoft Word Help.
3. Clippit appears with a box of questions.
4. Inside the box of questions, click on ‘Options.”
5. Choose the tab that says ‘Options.’
6. A list of options appears. Make sure there is no check mark in front of any of the options. If there is a check mark, delete it.
This way Clippit has no work to do. He can draw social security and your errors will be your own.
See more 10 Minutes in category Annoyances, Technology
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