The Agony of Da Shoes

 Good Advice, Life's Little Observations, Rant Lite, Uncategorized  No Responses »
Nov 132021
 

Have your feet aged? Science reports people’s feet can get wider or simply larger with age whether your weight changes or not. I have many friends who once wore a 7 and now wear a 9. I’ve always worn a 9. Just call me Lady Bigfoot. And since I’ve shrunk dramatically and I’m only 5′ nuttin’ honey, well. . . .to quote my mother, at least I won’t tip over in a high wind.

Aging feet can present some challenges. If your size has radically changed, that means all new shoes. Sweet thought, but not on a fixed income. Cheap shoes are killers. You can find some more inexpensive sneaks that aren’t too bad, but everything else? HAH! So let’s delve a bit into the agony of da shoes for us *mature* folks.

Tie Shoes

At first glance, these seem to be the best option. They are secure. If your feet swell, you can adjust as needed. Even if they stretch a bit with time, you can just tie them tighter. But what happens when you can’t tie them? I love and prefer tie shoes, but. . . my hands are funky now. Makes it difficult. Is your middle bigger? Bending down to tie those shoes may be a real pain in the gut. And the biggie. . . what do you do when they come untied and you’re alone? Yeah, I know, some of us can still bend down easily and tie them again. We hate you. J/K  J/K  J/K  LOLOL But if you can’t. . . I usually run and hide somewhere so nobody films me getting those shoes tied. And that brings us to. . .

Slip-On Shoes

You might think these are the answer and for some of us they are. But you still have to bend and sometimes pull to get into them. I have a heel that juts out so I always have to yank on the back of any shoe to get it on, no matter how well it fits. There are long-handled shoehorns you can get. These are good. What about when they stretch out? You can’t tie them tighter. Then it’s new shoes or heavier socks time. And once my foot starts slipping around in a shoe, I am a major-league fall risk.

Dress Shoes

These are one of the banes of my existence. I LUV dress shoes, but my days of hoochie heels are long gone. When I was in high school in the 60s we used to say we wore sit-down shoes and a stand-up girdle. (Does anyone even know what a girdle is anymore?) If I wore some of those shoes now, I’d be in a full-body cast within 5 minutes, maybe sooner. Try finding dressier flats. They’re out there, but it’s difficult. If you can wear a low wedge, you have a few more options. And if you still CAN wear hoochie heels, you go girl!!!! I won’t tell you what we used to call those in high school as it’s vulgar, but it had to do with Joan Crawford. 😉

Are There Solutions?

I’m not so sure about solutions, but there are some things to help. The aforementioned long-handled shoe horn is one of them if your feet give you trouble about going into shoes.

Shoe stretchers are still available (try the Vermont Country Store or a high-end shoe store) and can help ease shoes which may still fit but tightly so. I’ve also seen sprays that can stretch your shoes and boots.

There are slip-on shoes that look like tie shoes and you can simply step in from a standing position. Witchcraft!!!! LOLOL They’re not cheap, but they’re out there. The one I see all over is the Kizik brand.

Lastly, take some care in choosing your shoes. I understand how tight money can be, but shoes are NOT the place to scrimp once you’re up there in years. And me, the one who likes everything to match and be fashionable, hates telling you this, but black sneakers are just as appropriate as black heels for most things. And a helluva lot more secure. I use a pair of black ballet flats. If it’s really fancy I hook on a pair of rhinestone shoe clips from the 1920s, a prized possession from my beloved Grandmom.

Your feet carry you around and, trust me, it hurts when they tell you to go perform an anatomical impossibility and drop you on your arse. Please don’t ask me how I know. . .

(FULL DISCLOSURE: The brands mentioned here are for you to investigate. I am NOT connected with any of these companies and make nothing from telling you about them. Damn!!!!)

Let’s Take a Trip in the Wayback Machine 😉

The Scarcity Mindset and Selfishness

 Life's Little Observations, Musings, Rant Lite, Uncategorized  No Responses »
Jan 182021
 

People say your attitude about money comes from your parents. My father made good money and spent it. His battle cry was, “It’s only money, Ri, I’ll get more of it!” (Ri is my mother, Rita.) She would have a conniption fit when the man she married, raised in abject poverty and now making it, came home with a new toy. My mother’s battle cry was, “We can’t afford it!!!” Even when we could, we couldn’t. Scarcity Mindset.

Children of the Depression

My parents were children of the Great Depression. Dad grew up in a large family that didn’t even have enough to eat most of the time. Mom grew up in a family that had enough; nothing extra, but enough. My Grandmom (Mom’s Mom) was one of the few people steadily employed during the 1930s. My Mom always told me that Sundays brought folks to the front door who needed a meal because my Grandmom never turned anyone away. She would just water down the soup a little bit more. You would have thought my Mom would have picked up this generous spirit, but she didn’t. She just developed a very advanced scarcity mindset.

Affording It

As my Dad educated himself and took on bigger and better employment, becoming one of the top salesmen in the USA selling portion-controlled food to restaurants, his paychecks went up exponentially. All of a sudden we had nice homes and there were a few more dresses at the beginning of the school year. We went on vacations. New appliances and furniture began to appear. Life got decent and then it got nice because of my Dad. Yet the constant cry of, “We can’t afford it!” never stopped. But we did.

Proof, right?

Now you think that would have been proof positive to my developing mind that she was wrong and he was right. Yeah, you’d think. My husband and I worked our asses off when the kids were little. Could we afford everything? No. Did they always have enough? Yes. But even when things eased up a bit, every time I needed to lay out some money, the Rita in my head screamed, “We can’t afford it!”

And the Torch is Passed

So all through my formative years there was this battle between we CAN afford it and we CAN’T afford it. Why, oh why, didn’t I believe him and not her? I took on that scarcity mindset. My adult life became, “We can’t afford it!” The problem was that although there were some times we couldn’t, there were many times we could.

What it Really Meant

Now here’s the real problem. “We can’t afford it!” meant we couldn’t afford to give either. Donations? “Hey, we’re poor, too.” No, we weren’t. That family needs help! “Oh well, they can get on assistance.” Meanwhile, there was an extra $20 burning a hole in my pocket that could have bought food. Not a lot, mind you, but it could have made the difference for someone.

Selfishness

So it made me selfish. I never in a million years considered myself a selfish person. I gave freely to all. . . of myself. But when it came to opening up the purse strings, well, that was a different story. I would tell myself things like, “Money isn’t everything. They need your time and attention.” Maybe they did, but if someone has a hungry baby they need money for food first!

I. AM. SELFISH. That revelation hit me hard. I broke out in tears with all the years of, “We can’t afford it!” hitting me like the proverbial ton of bricks. I feel like a total failure for all of those years. But guess what? I’m Scrooge and it’s Christmas morning. There’s still time to fix things.

It’s Different Now

Today I give freely to those who need it. I can’t do it all for everyone, obviously, but there are many I can help and I do. I don’t want to be selfish anymore.

This is NOT to say that you should be a spendthrift and give everything you need away to the detriment of your own, not at all. You take care of your own first, of course, but if there’s a few bucks left, trust me when I tell you someone in today’s world could use it. And then. . . more of it will come to you!

And in the End

So the moral of this tale is to not let a scarcity mindset make you selfish. We still don’t have a helluva lot but we have a helluva lot more than many others do. For this I am grateful. And every now and then, when Rita and her damned, “We Can’t Afford It!” starts to infiltrate my brain, I take a deep breath and listen for my Dad. “It’s only money. I’ll get more of it.” He always did. I will, too.

“Magic Penny” by Malvina Reynolds

It’s just like a magic penny,
Hold it tight and you won’t have any.
Lend it, spend it, and you’ll have so many
They’ll roll all over the floor.

 


An Open Letter to Chelsie Kenyon

 Good Advice, Life's Little Observations, Musings, Uncategorized  6 Responses »
Aug 292020
 

This is Chelsie Kenyon, a phenomenal brain trainer and marketing coachDear Chelsie,

I don’t remember how I found you, but I believe I was on You Tube looking for something motivational. Not sure why I clicked on you, but I did. The last thing I thought I needed was some glamour girl Barbie doll telling me what to do. As I was about to click out of there, you said shit ton, one of my very favorite technical terms. 😉 Then you started talking about kicking ass. Somewhere down the line you dropped an F-Bomb. Blonde bombshell or not, dare I think I found my tribe and its name is Chelsie Kenyon?

A Little About Me

I am short and round, an old Nana who is way past her glory, if I ever had any. I have a self-esteem problem. My mother didn’t like me and, to her, I was fat, ugly and good for nothing. She repeated it till her dying day when I was 61. She’s still in my head, but I’m fighting. So your California Golden Girl look was the last person I thought I wanted to listen to. You could have Bobbi Brown do my makeup, dye my hair, carve the tonnage off of me with a chain saw and put me on a rack for a year or so. Not a snowball’s chance in hell of looking like you or even close. But, hey, I’m old enough to be your mother, so. . .

Chelsie, You Kept Getting In My Head

After that first video I looked you up on the net. I found this massively impressive website, chock full of glamour shots. I cringed. But I listened, too. You were real. I found the link to your Facebook group and clicked the join button. To say I was blown away is an understatement. I was still having trouble with the glamour girl look. Jealousy? Not at my age. Maybe regret for what never was and what never will be. After a day or two, I was hanging on to every word you said. And then I did the unthinkable. . . I bought a course from you, Ms. Barbie Doll. Okay, okay. It was a small course, but I bought it.

That First Course

Your course came in two parts. The little second part about building a Campsite link I did first as it looked like something this technoeejit could handle. And I did. I was so pumped! So I tackled the other part, “Quick and Dirty Funnels.” Of course, I didn’t tell anybody that I didn’t know what the hell a funnel was. But I figured I was still teachable, even at my age. So I went through the course once. I went through the course twice. In the middle of the third time I broke down in tears. I had no idea what was going on. Should have saved my money. Every negative voice came rushing back.

But Your Group. . .

I was going to get out of your group, but. . .I couldn’t. I was like the proverbial moth to a flame. Then I jumped in another group with you. And then. . . the photophobic that is me purchased your Fauxtography course, you know, the one that makes you look like you’ve done a pro photoshoot but using just your phone and some props. WHAT WAS I THINKING?

When I look in the mirror all I see is an ugly old lady with wrinkles and a huge nose. Yeah, I know that’s not technically true, but it’s historical conditioning. I’ve done a lot of work in breaking out of that, but WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU, MA’AM. . . . taking a photography course brought it all slamming back like a sucker punch to the gut. The voices in my head told me I was an idiot, a fool, stupid, yada yada yada. But, hell, I paid for it. So I opened it up.

Fauxtography

At first I had every excuse in the book why I couldn’t do this. There isn’t any white space in my house. The tripod doesn’t work right. I don’t know how to use the camera in my phone all that well. I’m gonna look ridiculous. I’m just gonna open up old wounds. And on and on it went. My usual self-hatred. But I kept clicking on the lessons. And a strange thought started appearing, one that said maybe I COULD do this. Every time I closed the course, my brain snuck right back in and snickered, “FOOL!!!” But. . .but. . . but this was really good information. No, I was NOT gonna look like you. I was gonna look like me. That had to be okay. Me is okay. I kept repeating that over and over and over again.

And a Selfie Started It All

The course is not about taking selfies, but I decided to try a few things. I had to dig deep and figure out what was actually fueling my camera fears.

First one was hair. I have very little of it due to medical conditions. And right now what’s left is plague hair, not cut since February. But hair is easy. I have wigs. In fact, I have a wig almost the exact color my hair was in the olden days, kind of like a bright shiny penny. The second thing is I have next to no eyebrows. Then what did I buy the damn Anastasia eyebrow powder for? I went to work. Eyebrows on. Check. Wig on. Check. And here I sat, feeling like a foolish old lady who was playing dress-up.

I started clicking away. I took some ridiculous-ass pics at first. Thank God you can erase them. I would have had to cut up the negatives in the old days. Remember when you had to wait two weeks to discover your photos sucked? LOL But then I got a few good ones. And then I got one that made me sit here with my jaw on the desk. That can’t be me! I sent it to my husband. This man who has loved me for 52 years texted back, “Who dat?” with a heart on it.

“THE Selfie”

Me with a red wig and happy

And Now Push Comes to Shove

Now it was time to do what scared me the most. Me. On Camera. Front-facing. Me and the tripod. Hoo boy!!! I chickened out several times. I repeated several sections of Fauxtography, all the while seeing Chelsie’s beautiful smile and hearing her encouraging me to pull a Nike and Just Do It. So I did. Again, the ridiculous-ass pics showed up. Delete works nicely. But then there were a few. . . I’ll let you be the judge.”

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117673661_1461297894055112_6647838275905094707_n
117715522_331282534732331_5261389270600338227_n
117715823_682624409003188_58402822671010458_n
117723115_329591551505716_6622381276458314629_n
118375657_408781503432632_7108197788087675424_n
118383746_438619590376898_3698827324135954839_n
118486232_756945571809495_8538022674277038183_n
Thank You, Chelsie!!!

I can’t thank you enough, Chelsie Kenyon. You pushed me, you shoved me, you kicked my ass hard. You. Someone I normally wouldn’t even give the time of day with a broken watch only because of how gorgeous you are. How ridiculous is that? But the substance behind that gorgeousness came through loud and clear, even to this faded and jaded old lady. I am so glad I stayed. You now see me all over your groups. I may be the oldest one in there. I absolutely don’t care. I’m in. And guess what? You’re stuck with me, woman. I’m not going anywhere. Oh, and I just bought two more courses. 🙂

Love,
Carla

P.S. Wanna go check Chelsie out? Her name is linked to her site at the beginning of this blog post. Her FB group is The E.P.I.C. Woman Collective – For your Brain and Business. Just click and knock on the door! And for a hella good marketing technique, try The Daily Prompt. You will NOT regret it!!!

Life in 2020 When the Power Goes Out

 Life's Little Observations, Musings, Uncategorized  No Responses »
Aug 082020
 

When you live in a rural area and there is no power, you lose your toilets, too.Hurricane Isaias came barreling up the Atlantic Coast earlier this week after walloping parts of the Caribbean. Storms happen all the time in New Jersey. Sometimes, we get nailed; other times, we don’t. We got trounced by a derecho (a severe vertical wind storm) in 2012 in my neck of the woods, to be followed up by Hurricane Sandy which mostly missed us but almost destroyed the northern end of the state. So when the power went down on Tuesday morning, it was ho-hum. It’ll be back on in a few minutes. Except that it wasn’t.

Living in The Boonies

I live in a rural area. No power means no nuttin’ honey, including the bathrooms. Yes, we have our own well, but you need an electric pump to get that water up out of the ground and into the house. When my kids were little, we had a big swimming pool in the back yard and we used to run a bucket brigade to flush the toilets. The pool’s been gone for ages. During the derecho and Hurricane Sandy we had these huge industrial barrels which we used to take to a friend’s house who had city water and fill them up. It got to be quite a drag. We also used to stockpile gallons of bottled water for taking showers.

For Want of a Generator

We sat in our 105-degree living room for almost a month without power back in 2012 when the derecho hit. We were totally cut off. We had to make sure we could get out to get gas in the cars so we could pull them up to a window and run a charging cord out to power our phones. This was our only connection to the outside world. Telephone lines were out, too. We lost the food in the fridge and freezer. Everybody smelled really good (NOT). We had a camp stove out on the back porch for making coffee and elementary cooking. A friend eventually loaned us a small generator and it was such a relief. Right then and there I made a vow that I would do whatever it took to get a generator of our own.

It took me a while to save the money, but we waited for a deal at Harbor Freight and eventually got one. Armed with saved cash and a 20% off coupon, we proudly brought home the generator that has been gracing my back yard ever since. It doesn’t run the entire house, but it runs enough of it. We had it for a year-and-a-half before we needed it. I thought. . . all that money and those storms were a one-off? And then I remembered. Hey, this is New Jersey. So it got use. Not a lot, but it was a relief to know it was there.

But Life Without Power in Today’s World?

We waited for quite some time for the power to come back on the other day, thinking. . . “Any minute now it will be back.” The electric company always puts estimates on their outage line. No estimates. Hmmm So after waiting for 5 or 6 hours (yeah, we’re stubborn), hubby went out to hook up the generator. That at least gave us lights, water pump, fridge and freezer. It also gave me back a computer.

That’s good, right? Yes, it is. Before the computer got back online I was thinking, “Oh, I’ll just do this, this and that.” But I couldn’t do this, this and that without power. Banking? Need the computer. Business? Need the computer. Letting people know we were okay? Need the computer. And the computer needs. . . power. So we were effectively stuck. It took me a while to get things caught up and, truth be told, a day later I’m still not totally caught up. As they say in the Disney movie, it threw off my groove.

Where Was My Phone?

Well, yes, my phone was operating, but. . . it wouldn’t load much of anything. No weather reports. Facebook? It loaded from the cache and wouldn’t update. The only thing reliably working was Messenger and texting, so at least I could let a few people know we were okay. As far as keeping in contact in other ways, forget it. And we have good phones on a decent network. Well, at least I thought we did.

So. . . Back to That Generator

If you live in a heavily-populated area you probably won’t ever face any of this. When I complained after the 2012 fiasco, the electric company told me that they complete repairs by population of districts or some such garbage. My *district* has a whopping 16 homes in it so guess who gets last place? Yep, you’ve got it. But as rural as we are, there are other areas around here who get last minus one or two. I have friends still waiting with no end in sight.

Our generator is a must for this type of life. Without it, we would have been much worse off, a mini version of 2012. Yes, it takes gasoline to run. We keep some gas cans full for the tractor to mow the grass and the generator. As soon as that last can got emptied into the tank, we ran for more gas. Hubs fixed it so I could take a shower. I was grateful. Sure beats pouring gallons of bottled water over yourself, lathering up and then pouring more to rinse.

So How Did YOU Get Through This One?

If you live on the east coast, how did you weather Isaias? What do you do when the power goes out? To me, it almost seemed to be adding insult to injury on top of the plague we’re going through. But this is Hurricane Alley. I know there’s more coming. I’ve lived with hurricanes almost all of my life. They never seemed quite as bad as this one. I think I’m just getting old.

(This is too close to home. We were lucky. No damage.)

The Little Girl Who Still Asks Why

 Life's Little Observations, Rant Lite, Uncategorized  4 Responses »
Jul 172020
 

As a child I always asked why. I was a pain about it. I am still the little girl who asks why.I was a pain in the butt as a child. Everyone around me got tired of me asking questions. It was an Olympic sport with me. The family thought I would be a journalist as I was the princess of What, Where, Why, When and How. Probably should have been. I was one of those kids who just had to know. As I grew, I realized that some questions just don’t have answers. It saddened me then; it saddens me now. And even as an old lady, inside of me is the little girl who still asks why.

Recent Events

So many recent deaths have taken a toll on my psyche. Young beautiful people, successful people, and now they’re gone. Some are a bit older. Some are very old and have lived a good long life. And as we know, all good things must come to an end. But when that end comes way too soon, you start to question why. And why now? Is there something in the air besides COVID-19? Are we going through a planetary shift? Climate Change? Oooops, there I go again. But. . .WHY?

When Money Doesn’t Cut It

My mom used to tell me, “You can’t buy happiness,” to which I usually shot back, “Maybe not, but it makes the misery more bearable.” Does it? After the alarming rate of young folks with money leaving this earth, I honestly think she was right and I was wrong.

I don’t pretend to have any type of knowledge of the whys and the wherefores of this world. That’s the department of a higher power well above my pay grade. But it sure makes you wonder why someone like Naya Rivera, by all accounts a good mom who worshiped her son, couldn’t get back in that boat. She made sure her baby was safely in and then, for whatever, reason, she slipped away. Why did she have to go? Where was that one last push of gargantuan strength that many say saves them?

There I go again, the little girl who still asks why.

A young man like Brandon Keough. He looks so much like his famous Grandpop (Elvis Presley) it’s scary. By all reports a nice and talented young man from a famous and talented family. Took his own life. Why? What was missing in his life? He didn’t suffer, as most of us define suffering. Or did he? Why did he feel suicide was the only way out? According to a lifelong friend, he felt the pressure to carry on the Presley name, especially since he looked so much like Elvis. His friend said it was an overwhelming force on Brandon. So sad.

Others Taken From Us

Actress, wife and mother Kelly Preston passed on the other day from breast cancer. She was only 57. She hadn’t finished raising her children. Why her? Why now?

Nick Cordero, 41, a bright star on Broadway and a reported great guy who would give you the shirt off his back. He fell victim to COVID-19 and went through three months of hell before his lungs gave up the ghost. He left a wife and a one-year-old baby. Why him? Why now?

And the disaster that opened up this strange year in January 2020, Kobe Bryant. Whatever you thought of Kobe, he was only 41 and way too young to go. He left a wife and three kids. One daughter died with him. Why them? Why now?

There I go again, the little girl who still asks why.

The Ones Who Went the Distance

We lost a lot of “old folks” in the past few months, too. I don’t feel so bad about these people. They got to live a long life and left an enduring legacy. What more can you ask for? I think my question here is why did they make it when others didn’t? What spark did they have that let them live into their 80s, 90s and beyond? Good genes? Maybe. I’m talking about people like . .

Jerry Stiller
Carl Reiner
Little Richard
Ian Holm
Buck Henry
Kirk Douglas
Orson Bean
Charlie Daniels

What did they have that was special? Why did they live so long?

If you want a more complete list of who we’ve lost in 2020, click here.

And Then There’s Me

I guess you could call it survivor’s guilt. I was supposed to be dead at 30. Then again at 45. Then I went for the hat trick at 50. So why am I still here when others who battled with me are not? I’m not so special. But here I sit and so many others are just memories. A nurse said to me one time, “Well, honey, you have a family to raise.” So did the others. I feel blessed to be sitting here writing this, but I still ask why the others are not here with me.

If you have any answers for me, please put them in a comment. Maybe there are no answers. And maybe I’m just doomed to be the little girl who still asks why to the questions that have no answers, except for those that are blowin’ in the wind.

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