Archive for the ‘Dog Journal’ Category

Coffee drive-thru steals a week?

Sunday, October 31st, 2010

coffee to goThis just in from the folks who sell organic coffee at my church: 

People who buy coffee primarily at drive-thru windows on their way to work will spend as much as 45 hours a year waiting in line.

Their point, of course, was to  buy the beans from them and brew your own. 

Wherever you buy beans, though – Wow!!  Forty-five hours is a big gulp of time, to say nothing of the money and fumes.
 
If taking your home-brewed coffee can save you as much as 45 hours a year, what are some other time-savers that can give you up to a whole week’s vacation???

Please, do tell.

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Is GPS Off-Road Answer?

Tuesday, October 26th, 2010

GarminHopping on and off the Beltway in DC last week, I thanked my lucky stars I’d ditched my old GPS (which was reliable only about dying every time I took it out on the freeway at night) and replaced it with one that not only stayed awake but announced the exits by name and number.

The new one was flawless. It told me when to zig and zag. It told me how long it would take to arrive and where to pick up Chinese.

I couldn’t help but imagine how organized I’d be if I had robotic direction in the rest of my life.

“Check your calendar.” “Take out the recycling.” “Pay your Discover Card bill.”

No more missed appointments. No more overflowing bins. No more late fees.

And especially, no more walking into a room and thinking, “Why am I in here?” GPS would remember. “You came for your phone,” it would say.

I could probably even program it to announce when I went a little off course. Detours to the refrigerator, for example. “Recalculating… recalculating… recalculating….”

Maybe not such a good idea after all.

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Randi Acts of Kindness

Sunday, October 17th, 2010

f6e0b430-70b4-4485-91f5-cd992c2bdbefYesterday, it was standing room only at the Southwick-Good & Fortkamp Funeral Chapel in Clintonville. The lines queuing up outside for nearly an hour had snaked into every possible entrance. Many wore purple, signifying the deceased’s enthusiasm for her alma mater, Mount Union College. And nearly everyone took a moment to dab their eyes for a woman who they said at some time or place in their lives had made them feel welcome. She did that for me.

I first got to know Randi Hirschauer during a brief stint working at the Ohio Division of Securities. She was standing in the tiny employee kitchen, surrounded by dozens of suspicious containers she’d just pulled from the employee refrigerator. Like many offices, ours was less than vigilant about cleaning out the communal fridge. Until the foul aromas wafted up, the offending items simply got shoved to the back.

Randi was having none of it. She’d posted a sign with a date certain for disposal, and it was on the day following this date that I met her – fearlessly dumping the unsavory contents into a garbage bag. Like Tom Sawyer, she made it seem fun, and before I knew it, we were engaged in a lively collaboration that involved my wiping down the refrigerator shelves.

Yesterday, as family and friends rose, one by one, to salute her, one common theme emerged. This was a fun-loving woman who concerned herself with the comfort of others before herself and who reached out to make others feel welcome. Neighbors credited Randi with fostering the community on their street. I saw her do it at work. At a time when electronic communication seems to trump real human contact, we can learn a lot from her.

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Float Like A Leaf….

Monday, October 11th, 2010

A favorite piece of advice I once received after leaving a hyper-hectic job was “Float like a leaf down a river.”

DSC01079The metaphor was perfect. There are times when the best we can do is relax into the flow, like a leaf down a river, and just allow ourselves to be carried.

I was reminded of the advice during a Sunday afternoon canoe trip down the Hocking River, where the afternoon sun and falling leaves conspired to make a magical afternoon. Like the paddlers who passed them by, some of the leaves were willing to be carried limply by the water. Others scooted energetically like crumpled brown sailboats, fueled by a fresh breeze.

There’s no right or wrong way to move down a river. Monday comes soon enough either way. But my salute goes to the floaters. They took the afternoon off and breathed deep.

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