Daily Grace, Presence

Let It Be Easy (This Week Anyway)

October 8, 2022

Train on my walk today… Hoping the graffiti isn’t profane.

Ten minutes of writing.

Ten minutes of writing whatever comes, and I will post it as my blog entry this week, just as it is.

(Mostly as it is. I edited a little. Because. You know! Recovering English major and middle school English teacher!)

My former neighbor who is a professional photographer came by earlier this week to take my son’s senior pictures. We didn’t have to go far; just into our backyard. She said that backyard pictures are always the best, and it doesn’t even matter what the yard looks like. It can be weeds and old tires, but there’s something about the way that folks feel more comfortable there that makes the pictures special.

So I danced around like a wild mother, behind him (but out of camera view), in front of him, trying to make him laugh. She got a couple of shots with him smiling (maybe even laughing): his beautiful, natural grin.

She had him sit on an old stump in the backyard and then in front of the quince bush and wild grapevines. Later we moved to the corner of the yard. She had him pick up our good dog, and had me get in a picture with him, too, just for a moment.

She knows what she’s doing.

I am excited to see the photos.

I also was a wild errand runner that day. I drove down to Walmart and returned some aromatherapy oils that I bought for massages that ended up smelling like arm pit. (Not really… but they didn’t smell right to me). Also, two t-shirts that I bought for my daughter a year ago that we thought she could wear to work but that weren’t allowed. Got $1.00 back for each one of those. Pretty much the principle of the thing, not the money so much. Then off to Home Depot to redeem a strange gift card. There is a story behind it. In brief: I bought something at the Depot. I paid using a debit card that I received as a rebate after buying my dog’s heartworm medication. I later returned the thing to the Depot. They said, “Back on the card?” and I said in my cheerful way, “Sure!”

Except I had thrown away the annoying rebate debit card as soon as I used it, and it was gone, gone, gone. After I realized this, I went back to the Depot, and they said. “Well. This is a problem.” But finally, in the end, the head of all head cashiers came and signed my receipt and said it was worth $25 with his name and the date.

I wasn’t sure how that was going to go over when I finally needed to redeem it.

But I found mulch on sale that wasn’t dyed, that smelled like earth, for around $3.00 a bag, and loaded up my cart and prepared myself for all kinds of difficulty in redeeming my receipt that basically said, “Give this nice lady $25 in merchandise, please.”

And guess what?

It worked perfectly.

I said, “Really? That was so easy!”

And the cashier said, “Yep. No problem! That’s the head cashier’s signature with his number. If this was a fake, you wouldn’t know what the number was.”

So now I have seven bags of lovely smelling mulch to distribute around the yard, and a bag of decorative gourds, because I love them and wanted to spend a little more than the $25, just because it seemed tacky not to.

Senior pictures and a car load of mulch and a few bags of miscellaneous returned to Walmart that had been in my car for weeks, including t-shirts that had been riding around back there for more than a year.  With the added bonus that I got some money back.

It was a good day.

Presence

When Your Mail Makes You Grumpy

October 1, 2022

A photo from a walk this week. The reason I give to environmental organizations? To protect places like this. Not so that somebody sells my information so that I then receive oodles of unsolicited appeals from other organizations (which waste paper and other resources and harm actual trees somewhere, because of all the paper!)

Note to self: apparently, I should think twice before donating to charitable organizations, to the nonprofits that support causes that I care about. Because at least one group that I supported was… Sneaky? Annoying? Lacking integrity? and sold my name and address. I wish I knew which one, because I wouldn’t donate to them again.

Now every day when I pick up my mail, my box is full of solicitations from worthwhile organizations. Large and small. Statewide, national, international. Save Mono Lake! Give to the Salvation Army! I’ve received many free 16-month nature calendars (with envelopes attached so that I could repay the organization’s generosity. Because not only did they send me a calendar but personalized address labels and stickers, too!).

Primarily the mail comes from environmental groups, but also from aide groups that work overseas.

I used to open them all.

Now I throw them away without even taking a look.

I have to.

I don’t have the resources to fund even a fraction of them.

And I resent the fact that this deluge of requests means that I have to say no, over and over again, and then feel bad about it.

Just today? I threw away appeals from the Salvation Army. The National Parks Conservation Association (that envelope commanded: “Open upon receipt.” Nope. And I won’t send you anything in the future if that’s the kind of bossy attitude you have). The Cornell Lab of Ornithology (maybe because I support the Audubon Society?). The National Wildlife Federation. The ACLU. The International Rescue Committee. Women for Women International (Free Bookmarks enclosed!) Even a letter from former president Barack Obama. That one had my address in cursive. All these letters bore a similar “nonprofit” postage stamp.

It’s discouraging! Especially the environmental organizations: so much that they send ends up in the garbage (the recycling bin, actually. But still.) Seems counterproductive. And it sure doesn’t help the planet, to print and ship countless letters that end up needing to be recycled. Not to mention all the other resources that are wasted: the fuel to move the mail trucks, the time of our overworked, harried postal employees, who have to deal with all those worthless appeals.

I think it’s growth for me, though: to finally get to the point where I toss the letters, unopened.  At least then they don’t waste  any more of my (limited) mental energy, and I can mostly avoid falling into a pit of regret.  At least then there’s less guilt than if I do open the letters, read the copy about how bad things are and how much they need me, and (after all that) still toss them into the recycling.  I will continue to support the groups that mean the most to me. And I can do my best to channel the rest of my time into activities that light me up and give me life.  Like taking walks with Biscuit through the forest that I love so much and that I do my best to protect and save.

In fact, I’m going to close this now, such as it is, and take him for a walk, back up to the place where I took the picture that you see above. It’s a bright, warm October day and both of us have been sitting (or sleeping, in his case) a little too much.

Walks are great antidotes for mailbox angst.

Walks are great antidotes for other kinds of angst, too.