Tested

Time Tested Beauty Tips by Sam Levenson 

(A favorite of Audrey Hepburn)

For attractive lips,

Speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes,

Seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure,

Share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair,

Let a child run his or her

fingers through it once a day.

For poise,

Walk with the knowledge

you'll never walk alone.

People, even more than things,

have to be restored, renewed,

revived, reclaimed, and redeemed;

Never throw out anybody.

Remember,

If you ever need a helping hand,

you'll find one at the end of your arm.

As you grow older,

you will discover

that you have two hands,

one for helping yourself,

the other for helping others.

The beauty of a woman

is not in the clothes she wears,

The figure that she carries,

or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman

must be seen from in her eyes,

because that is the doorway to her heart,

the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman

is not in a facial mole,

but true beauty in a woman

is reflected in her soul.

It is the caring that she lovingly gives,

the passion that she shows,

And the beauty of a woman

with passing years-only grows!

Never A Dull Moment

It may not always be busy, but there’s always something going on at the mall Customer Service desk I work at.

The other day a man came in to buy some gift cards. His office had just completed their busy season, and he was treating his staff to a shopping spree.  (Which he does every year.  I wish I worked at that place!)

He had actually been in the day before and purchased some cards, but hadn’t been able to get enough, and was waiting for me when the desk opened to get the rest.  His staff was outside in the limo (!) he’d hired for them.  Once they all got their gift cards, they’d have two hours to shop before they had to go back to the office.

I sold him his cards, and he left.

Ten minutes later, a crazed-looking group of women hurried by.  They saw my desk had mall maps, and trotted over to get some.  They looked like contestants on the old Supermarket Sweep TV game show, where the challenge was to get as many things into a cart as possible before the clock ran out.

They got their maps and then they were off.  I never saw them again, but I bet they had a good time.

Polished Piggies

Yesterday I realized that Spring was coming.  With the warmer weather my "piggies" will be showing a lot more, so last night I decided to treat myself to a pedicure.

I don't often get my toes professionally done. Last time was at a spa across town where I had a gift certificate.  They did a good job, but I didn't want to drive that far this time. I knew that wouldn't be a problem, though; just about every strip mall around here has a nail salon.  A Google search revealed that there were six places to choose from within five miles of my house.  I didn't know anything about any of them, so I picked the one closest to me.  Except for the fact that I was getting my nails done and didn't want to mess them up on the way home I could have walked there.

When I walked in there were two technicians, but no other customers.  Both of the technicians looked to be Vietnamese.  One of them greeted me in pretty good English, and started the water at a seat.  She asked me to choose my polish color from the dozens lined up on a rack.  I was feeling adventurous, so I picked a bright pinky-orange color.  The second technician got out supplies and sat on the stool at the end of the seat.  She did all the work, not speaking the entire time.

While my feet were soaking in the warm water, the technician handed me a price sheet and asked me what type of pedicure I wanted.  I chose the least expensive, which I figured would get me clipped and pushed cuticles, pumiced heels, and polished nails.  I got all that, and more.  I also got a leg massage and a foot wax dip.  And pretty piggies that will make me smile for the next few weeks.

Let There Be Light

As far as I’m concerned we’ve had a great winter, with above-average temperatures and not much snow.   No matter what the weather’s been like, though, some things about the season can’t be changed, like the length of the day.  At its shortest, things are dark when I wake up, and dark when we’re sitting down to dinner.

The nice thing about the seasons, though, is that they change.  This morning when my alarm went off at 6:30 I was DELIGHTED that it was bright enough to see in the room without turning on a light.  That’s the first time it’s happened since last fall.  Knowing that the longer days mean warmer weather is coming soon was enough to put me in a great mood.   Instead of moving through my morning activities slowly, I finished them with time to spare, and got extra things done before I had to leave.

When I got in the car to go to work, I chose an up-tempo CD to listen to--not because I needed to motivate myself to start the day, but because it felt good to sing along to the music.  Loudly.  And with feeling.  I got off the highway and waited for the green light at the bottom of the exit ramp still bopping away.  When I looked over at the car to the right of me, the driver was smiling at me. Whoops!  I just smiled back, and didn't let it bother me.

The days may be getting longer, but I know I'll still have to turn on the kitchen light when it's time to eat dinner tonight.  Soon, though, the day will be long enough that will be able to go by the wayside. I can't wait.

Children As Pets - The Cat Years

I was going through old emails today, and found one I'd received in way back in 1999.  It made sense to me then, and still does now.  I tried to find the author, but had no luck.  If you have any information, please let me know so I can credit it appropriately.

I just realized that while children are dogs - loyal and affectionate - teenagers are cats.  It's so easy to be a dog owner.  You feed it, train it, boss it around.  It puts it's head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting.  It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.

Then around age 13, your adoring little puppy turns into a big old cat.  When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor.  Instead of dogging your doorsteps, it disappears.  You won't see it again until it gets hungry -- then it pauses on its sprint through the kitchen long enough to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving.

When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.  You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it.  It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.

Since you're the one who raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume that you did something wrong.  Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.  Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result.  Call it, and it runs away.  Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter.  The more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owner.  Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you.  But remember that a cat needs your help and your affection too.  Sit still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entirely forgotten.  Be there to open the door for it.

One day your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day.  Let me get those dishes for you."

Then you'll realize your cat is a dog again.

"Love"ly

A group I belong to is having a potluck dinner tomorrow night.   I volunteered to head it up.

Since it's February, the theme is Love.  For centerpieces, I bought tiny red gift bags at the craft store and flowers from Wal Mart.  I inserted pieces of floral foam in each bag, then stuck flowers in and added tissue paper on top to cover the foam.

Here's the 20 centerpieces, which will be arranged on tables covered with pink, red, and white plastic tablecloths, Valentine's conversation hearts candy, and Hershey's kisses:

We're expecting approximately 200 people. I've bought plates, utensils, cups, and napkins. Now all I have to do is figure out just how much coffee, tea, and lemonade that many people will drink!

Clean It Or Leave It?

Today is Ash Wednesday.   It's the first day of Lent, a period of prayer and fasting before Easter.  On this day, Catholics are easily identifiable; we're the ones sporting a black mark on our foreheads.

The black mark is ashes, a symbol of the need to repent, confess our sins, and return to God.  I went to Mass this morning before work.  After the homily, we received the ashes.  Usually the priest is the one who does it, but because we have such a large church, several ministers also assisted. When it was my turn, I stepped up to the minister, who dipped her thumb in the ashes and, making the Sign of the Cross on my forehead, said, "Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel".   The mark is supposed to be a cross, but some of the people administering the ashes were a little better artists than others; some of the crosses looked like a smudge.

After Mass I had a decision to make.  For many years I've worked in places that were heavily Catholic, so everyone had a black mark on their forehead.  This year, though, I was torn. Should I leave the ashes on, or clean them off?  I could think of reasons for both:

• Clean it off:  In one of the Mass readings for today, Jesus says “When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites. They neglect their appearance, so that they may appear to others to be fasting.”  By leaving the ashes on, was I trying to insinuate I was holy?

• Leave it on:  Every time I look in a mirror and see the mark on my face, it's a reminder of my desire to try and be a better person during Lent.  It's also a sign to other people of what I'm trying to do.

In the end I left the ashes alone (and was glad I did).  My choice led to some interesting conversations I wouldn't have had otherwise.  I thought everyone knew about Ash Wednesday, but several people asked me why I had "stuff" on my forehead, so I did my best to explain.

What Diet?

It's not my fault a piece of Key Lime pie jumped in my bag at the grocery store!  My horoscope said I should "buy a treat on the way home", so I did.

That Darn Cat (Part 2)

A couple of days ago, one of our cats ripped a hole in a plastic bread bag, then helped himself to some of the bread.

I was convinced it was Jackson who did it.   He's the one who lost quite a bit of weight through diet and exercise last year.  The lifestyle changes weren't HIS idea, though, and he's always sniffing around under the kitchen table and in the food preparation area looking for edible bits.  We also catch him in the act of jumping off the counter when we come into the room.  Sometimes he's joined by his brother Pepper, but it seems like Pepper's more about the novelty of finding things than actually filling his stomach.

After dinner on Friday Hubby Tony and I left the house for a Costco run.   I put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, but left the small pile of plastic bags that had accumulated from a day's worth of lunches and snacks on the counter to wash out later.  We ended up making a couple of other stops, and it was close to two hours later when we got home.  When I put my coat away I sensed something out of place on the stairs next to the hall closet.   I flipped on the light and was horrified to see Pepper scrunched up on the bottom step with a quart-sized zip lock bag on his head!

I'm guessing he jumped up on the counter to explore, put his head in the bag to check out something that smelled good, and then couldn't get it off.   I have no idea how long he'd been wearing his accessory.  Fortunately, there was enough room on the sides of the bag that air could get in.  I took the bag off Pepper's head.  He was quite traumatized, and slunk quickly upstairs.  We checked on him regularly, but there didn't seem to be any physical damage.  His skittishness lasted until it was time to go to bed, then he curled up in his regular spot down by Tony's feet.

I hope that Pepper has learned his lesson, but only time will tell.

That Darn Cat!

I have a couple of big projects coming due in the next two weeks, and not much time to do them.  Today was jam-packed with activities and errands, including grocery shopping.  After I did the "big shopping" at Aldi I stopped by the house to drop off the food, because it was too warm to drive around with perishables.

When I walked in the house at 1:30 the cats were waiting for me in the kitchen.  They thought it was time to eat!  However, I reminded them it was too early for their meal. (Yes, I talk to my pets.  Don't you?)  I brought in the bags and set them on the counter, then took all the refrigerated items out and put them away.  The rest of the food could wait.  I picked up my purse and keys, told the cats I'd see them in a bit, and left to go cross a couple more things off my list.

When I got home 45 minutes later the cats weren't anywhere to be found.  I sat at the kitchen desk and caught up on emails and Facebook posts.  By the time I was finished the cats were back.  Jackson circled around under my feet, and Pepper jumped up on the desk and walked across it a couple of times trying to get my attention.  I finished what I was doing, and told them I'd take care of them after I put the groceries away.

This was a small shopping trip, and everything (except for the gallons of milk) had fit into two large flat-bottomed cloth shopping bags. The first bag contained produce and miscellaneous groceries.  The second bag held a couple of boxes of cereal, some canned goods, and a loaf of bread, which I'd placed on top of everything else.

When I pulled the bread out, I noticed something wasn't right.  There's not supposed to be a hole eaten into the bag:

Who did it? As they always do, both cats looked at me innocently when I asked. I tried to figure out the message they were sending. Were they announcing they need more food, or annoyed that I ignored them?