MEASURE (A Five-Minute Friday Post)

I'm having real difficulty with this particular writing prompt.  Ugh.  Well, here goes!


"Measure" reminds me of Shakespeare's Measure for Measure, and "measure twice, cut once."

And quotes:

"The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good."  (Samuel Johnson)

"The measure of who we are is what we do with what we have."  (Vince Lombardi)

"The measure of a man is what he does with power."  (Plato)

"If you can't measure it, you can't improve it."  (Peter Drucker)  This one is my favorite, at least right now.

When I was going to physical therapy after my knee replacement, the therapist periodically measured the angle of my bent knee.  Over the course of just a few weeks, it went from 95 to 105 to 110 to 120 to 126 to 130, but to me, it felt pretty much the same.  I couldn't see the angle myself, and I just bent my knee as far as possible, so it always felt pretty similar.  Although I could tell my foot was getting closer and closer to my rear end, I couldn't tell how much.  Because I had goal numbers, and I had measurements for comparison, I knew I was improving rapidly.

I'm trying to declutter the house (it's an ongoing process).  I work on particular spaces, and it's amazing how much STUFF is STUFFED into them!  I'll work and work and do what feels like a lot, but when I look at the space afterward, I don't see much improvement.  So I started keeping track of how many trash bags I fill, and how many boxes I empty.  Otherwise, I'd think I've been spinning my wheels.

Make a list of the things you measure every day.

How could you use those measurements to improve your life?

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This post is part of the Five-Minute Friday link-up.  Today's writing prompt was "MEASURE."  For more information on Five-Minute Friday, click here.

Connections and Coincidences... Hmmmm...

“Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous.”
― Albert Einstein, The World as I See It

“Coincidences mean you're on the right path.”
― Simon Van Booy, Love Begins in Winter: Five Stories

“We know that attention acts as a lightning rod. Merely by concentrating on something one causes endless analogies to collect around it, even penetrate the boundaries of the subject itself: an experience that we call coincidence, serendipity...”
― Julio Cortázar, Around the Day in Eighty Worlds

Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a character in the TV show, NCIS, has 51 rules to live by.  Rule #39 is "There is no such thing as coincidence."  Sometimes I wonder.

This past couple of weeks, I've experienced some seemingly random coincidences.

About two weeks ago, I got together with some friends for lunch, and brought some gazpacho for everyone to sample.  I had earlier told them I had made some, and they were intrigued by the idea of a cold soup.  So the next time we gathered, I brought some along so they could try it.

I spent the following weekend at McCormick's Creek State Park in Spencer, Indiana.  Our church choir had a retreat there, and we went through all the music planned through the end of December.  I went a day early so I could hike the trails.  I got on my smart phone and looked up restaurants in the area for some ideas.  One place that popped up over and over was the FARMbloomington restaurant, a "farm-to-fork" place - local meats, local, seasonal produce, all freshly prepared by chef Daniel Orr.  Interesting, but I didn't want to drive the fifteen miles to Bloomington through the thunderstorm then raging outside.  So, I decided to take the lazy way out and eat right there at the Canyon Inn.

That Sunday, I went to the Indiana State Fair to visit a friend working the food demo stage.  When the next show began, I decided to see what was on offer.  The presenter was chef Daniel Orr.  He was demonstrating two soups.  One of them was gazpacho.

Early last week, I started listening to an audiobook, Prague Winter, by Madeleine Albright.  In it, she talks about Czech president Vaclav Havel and the "Velvet Revolution" of the late 1980s.  I'm also reading an e-book, The Compromise Trap, by Elizabeth Doty.  In it, she talks about Havel and the Velvet Revolution.

Earlier this summer, That Man observed that we don't see many opossums any more.  I agreed.  I hadn't even seen one at the side of the road, playing possum or otherwise.

Dad's birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and I gave him one of my typical obnoxious (to me, hilarious) birthday cards, which featured a photograph of a man holding a huge, old, ratty-looking possum by the scruff of the neck.  ("You're HOW old?  ImPOSSUMble!"  Thank you, Hallmark!)

(Do possums have a scruff?)

This week, we saw a possum cleaning up the spilled sunflower seeds under the bird feeders.

Gretchen Rubin, the author of The Happiness Project, posted a question on FaceBook related to the Mars exploration by the rover Curiosity - what would you name a new rover?  I thought a bit, and left a comment - "Hitchhiker."

A couple of days later, I received a quotation via text message on my phone - "Time is an illusion.  Lunchtime doubly so." - Douglas Adams, author of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

This happens from time to time, but I don't remember ever having so many linkages piled into such a short timeframe.  Or is it not such an oddity, but I've just been open to seeing the connections?

What "coincidences" have you noticed lately?  Do you believe in coincidence?

I'm going to have to think about this!

Race Car Trailers and Enthusiasm

We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about. - Charles Kingsley

You want to see enthusiasm?  Just ask That Man about drag racing.  Oh my.  It's an obsession.

Two weeks ago, he and That Girl went racing.  It was a sunny, hot weekend.  They were hot and sweaty and exhausted by the time it was over.  Saturday wasn't too bad - he ran one round, put the car in the trailer, and headed for dinner and the motel.  Time to cool off, rest, and recuperate.  But Sunday, he kept winning rounds, and the turnaround time got shorter and shorter.  Not much time to rest, and no place to get really cool.  Oh, they had a fan set up, and they had shade from the awning, but compared to the guys who pull their trailers with motor homes...well! Both of them came back looking like boiled lobsters. But, long story short, he came in third in his class!

We'd had that trailer for 23 years, and it was a big step up from the old open trailer.  We'd go racing with no lights, no awning, nothing.  Talk about primitive!  And then we made the change to an enclosed trailer with an awning.  We thought we were in HEAVEN, even though it was still hot as You-Know-Where when the outside temperatures soared.

Well, a week ago, he came home with a new race car trailer, and he's spent the past week getting it ready.  So what could there possibly be to do?  It was made to his specifications.  Just winch the car in, stick the generator in its spot, and away you go!

Well, not quite.

The winch cable is too short.  The D-rings in the floor to tie down the car were installed backward.  There is no shelf in the base cabinet.  He broke off the antenna on the side of the trailer, trying to adjust it.  The list grows.  But here's a view of the interior: 

And a view of the exterior:

It's mighty nice - a huge improvement over the old trailer.  Shiny and new.  Lots of light. More space.  A bigger awning.  No wood to rot.  Non-skid floor.  AIR CONDITIONING.  He will be racing in "comfort and luxury," relatively speaking.

So, will all this decadence improve his results?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  That Man LOVES to race his car.  He has ENTHUSIASM!  Isn't THAT what counts?

I'm Not Very Good at...LOTS of Things!!!

If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly. - G. K. Chesterton

Oh, bless you, George!

There are so many things I LOVE to do, but I do them so BADLY.

I run.  Slowly.  Painfully slowly.  I mean, people WALK faster than I run.  And my right leg is knock-kneed (one source of the problems I've been experiencing with that leg - geesh!).  But you know, this morning I got out and chugged up the street, and I passed a small river birch with a mockingbird in it, singing his heart out.  Last week I interrupted an opossum going about his opossum business.  And there are bullfrogs in a retention pond nearer to our house, and when I hear them "harrumphing," I always laugh.  And I may not be fast, but I can go forever.  At least that's how it feels, some days.

I paint watercolors.  From a book.  Nothing original (YET).  But playing with the paint and trying out different techniques is FUN.  And one of my favorite pictures came about because of a mistake!  I was trying to get a misty rain effect using a technique described in a book.  It just would NOT work, and I kept taking a paper towel and wiping down the picture and trying again.  But one time after taking a disgusted swipe at the mess, I looked and said, "Hey!"  I had made misty rain!  Not as instructed, but who am I to look a gift misty rain effect in the mouth?  I left it, and I've gotten a lot of compliments on it!  

I sail.  Lazily.  I almost never use the jib.  It's in GREAT shape!  Oh, I hank it on to the forestay every spring and keep it in its sail cover on the deck, but I almost never let it come out and play.  Fall comes and I unhank it and throw it and the cover into the cabin until spring, when I hank it on again.

I ski.  Again, lazily.  I don't want to be bothered with the effort of skiing a black diamond slope.  I'll do greens and blues, and try to find the longest way down the mountain.  I want to get as much time on my skis as possible for my ride up to the top, and I want to be able to look at the scenery, not just at where I'm going to have to plant my pole or make my next christy.  My favorite is a about a four-mile glide at Winter Park in Colorado.  It takes me about 40 minutes to get from the summit to the base.  Now THAT'S skiing!

I play the piano.  Well enough.  No audience, please.  Oh, how I HATED recitals!  I play for myself.  Everyone can thank God for that.  At least I know enough not to inflict my playing on others, if I can avoid it.  I used to be better, but ever since getting bifocals...!  Oh my.  I have a terrible time reading the music with my head thrown back so I can look through the bottom of my glasses.  And I lose my place in the music.  And I can't find the keys.  Without my glasses, it's even worse!  I keep threatening to get a pair of CHEAP single vision glasses just for the piano.  But I enjoy the noises I make.  I can hear the RIGHT notes in my head, no matter what is coming out of the instrument!

The point is, who are you doing these things for?  Do you have to be the best?  Do you have to meet someone else's standard?  Are you in a competition?

Obviously, I'm NOT at a competitive level in any of the things I like to do, so I'd better just do them because I like to do them!  What are some things that you like to do that you avoid doing because you think you're not good enough?  I need to make a list of my own, and start DOING them.

Frank Shorter, You're My Hero!

My goal has always been to slow down as slowly as possible. - Frank Shorter

Isn't that a great way to look at it?  Frank, you're my hero!  They're gonna have to drag me off, kicking and screaming.

But sometimes, I let Them get hold of me after all.  You know, life's vagaries.  Aging body parts.  The wrong food.  Family crises.  Work crises.  Injuries.  Distractions.

My spring half marathon came and went - without me.  I stepped down to the 5K, but, by golly, I ran the whole thing.  So I had a victory.  I'm trying to ramp up my running again, but it seems I'm suffering with ITBS (illiotibial band syndrome) AND a piriformis issue, both on the right side.  That leg has been somewhat tight and apparently weak for months, and now it's showing its true colors.  I tried strengthening exercises, and they helped a little, but just not enough.

For the past few weeks I've had a terrible time with stairs, in both directions.  I finally sat down and really LISTENED to the old bod, and it said, STRETCH ME!  So I started doing Those Stretches, and they helped almost immediately.  I'll just have to be persistent.  I didn't run this morning, but I should be able to get out by Thursday.

So maybe They won't get me too soon, after all.  I'm running from Them as fast I can, and trying to slow down as slowly as possible.

The Hardest Part...

"The best part of a run? The birds chirping, the awesome air, and the fact that a lot of people are still sleeping. The worst? The first couple of steps. Just getting the creaks out." - Summer Sanders, Olympic gold medalist in swimming

Girl, you said a mouthful.

Friday, I lay in bed and thought about it. "Look, you. You need to get outside and Just Do It. Oh, you sound like a Nike ad. Ugh. The bed is so nice and the cats don't want to be disturbed. So you're going to let three eight- to twelve-pound cats be your boss? Just get up and get dressed and go outside."

So, I forced myself to get up and step out the door.

"AAAAAAAUUUUUUGH!!!! It's COLD! But, hey, look at the moon! Just past full. Is that cool or what?"

Thus starts another run.

And the funny part about it is that it was a FANTASTIC run. It felt easy and just flowed - like I could keep going all day. No aches, no pains, no jarring. Just smooth, easy motion. Good grief! Why can't every run feel like that?

Well, maybe the good run was my reward for winning the battle with the snooze button. Hmmm...

Now I wish I'd won this morning.