I absolutely adore the way our house cleaner diligently scrubs away those unsightly rings around the toilet bowl with a pumice stone, and how their loving craftsmanship miraculously transforms every soiled spot on the base and lid into a pristine, showroom-worthy display. And with a final polish and a touch of a fragrant scent, makes our porcelain throne a lovely sight.
No matter how infrequent her visits may be, the gift of her fresh start brings joy to us all. And the best part? It doesn’t cost us a penny! That’s right, when you take on the role of a maid yourself, your wallet stays untouched.
While waiting for my Acura’s tires to be rotated, a 478 area code appeared on my screen. “Hello, Jaclynn,” the builder’s Southern twang was a pleasant surprise since it had been a while since we last talked, and I was eager to proceed with the next steps. “Do you want me to draft those changes? I could have them done in two weeks,” he offered. Instead of going through an architect, he quoted a mere $500. The go ahead included swapping the master bath and closet, expanding the patio, and removing the gables, among other things. When I brought up our ongoing debate over a masoned fireplace versus a prefab gas one, he shared his perspective: “I had a fireplace in my first three homes, and I don’t have one now. I don’t miss it, and I don’t shed alligator tears over it.”
Unfamiliar with the term “alligator tears,” I waited until we hung up to try my best Southern drawl and share what I had heard with Dave. “I’m pretty sure he’s not using it correctly anyway,” he concluded. It means fake tears, which seemed to be an incorrect usage. But who am I to judge? Maybe you don’t remember the time I said “old hat and bag” instead of just “old hat,” and how my friend couldn’t let it go.
Where I once found myself caught in a whirlwind of anxiety, feeling like Artax in “The NeverEnding Story” sinking into quicksand, I’m now taking a different path. The Compassion Fatigue course I’m taking and learning of the secondary effects of trauma on our physiology has made me more mindful and simply letting them go of stressful thought patterns. Interestingly, while brushing my teeth and examining my reflection, I noticed fewer wrinkles on my forehead.
Oh, and I wanted to share a text message I received from my friend Hilary, whom I met in the early 2000s at college, and we’ve remained friends ever since. She wrote: “Did you know that the year we slept in the back of your truck outside that tavern near Sweet Home, Oregon, like 20 girls went missing on that highway? There’s a whole special coming out about it in November. A serial killer.” I hadn’t known, but it brought back memories of our time in my red Chevy S-10 and tossing her twin-size mattress from the second story of our rental house because we were too lazy to carry it down the stairs. Instead of paying for camping or a hotel, we found cozy spots to snuggle in wherever we could, and it seems like we made wise choices, as we were far (but close) from the territory of serial killers.
As for my review of the movie “Nope,” I must say that although there were moments of tension, nothing caused me to jump or shield my eyes. It was, in fact, quite enjoyable, despite some disjointed segments. I believe the characters, including a brother and sister, a computer geek from Frye’s, and a Marlboro man-like documentary filmmaker, elevated the film. It was both amusing and intriguing, and I highly recommend it.
With that, I’ll wrap up my evening and allow you to continue with yours. I’ll catch up with you mañana. Take care, and sending love, Jaclynn.
Going On 40 