Finding our "best self"

Have you ever noticed how many times you’re ready to head out the door only to discover you can’t find your keys?  Or, you’re ready to wrap a birthday gift and can’t locate the scissors and tape?  Or, maybe you’re like me; if I could only remember what I’ve forgotten I’ve lost…then maybe I could find it. 

We’ve all been down the road of “lost and misplaced possessions.” I’ll bet you have a few of your own stories.  Once, when on a trip to Washington D.C., I’d misplaced my sun glasses and asked the clerk at the hotel desk if anyone had turned in a pair.  The attendant on duty promptly grinned, as if on cue, and pulled out a basket literally brimming with lost designer lost sunglasses from Rayban to Gucci.  “See any you like?” He cheerily quipped.

Karla Jones, a professional organizer, speaker and seminar leaders, says, “Physical clutter is called Visual Noise.  Just as it is impossible to work and live productively with constant noise, so is it impossible to live and work productively when your environment is in chaos.”  Granted, de-cluttering one’s environment and better organization can do wonders. 

It’s always intrigued me how much time we spend each year looking for lost keys… but I can’t recall where I put that folder to give you that figure!  It must have sprouted little feet and moved itself.  Perhaps I should follow the suggestion I saw on the Internet, “setting up a database for lost and misplaced items.”  Can you imagine?

Is it the daily overload many of us carry around that freezes our brain from functioning?  Perhaps, it’s not enough down time?  Or, not enough quiet time?  Except we all know that quiet time is virtually non-existent in the Northeast or any other mega-metropolis.  Thus, we waste time trying to locate important documents, looking for a pen, or trying to locate the grocery list all while keeping the mad mystery of looking for things alive.

My daughters laugh at me as I keep a running list of things to find; keys, my passport, a 40’s style fur trimmed sweater that belonged to my eclectic Aunt Roberta, my headache pills, my reading glasses, and a glove.  That’s right; one glove.  Right now a solitary brown Fownes leather glove with black fir trim lay atop my dresser along side my list of things to find.  I thought I dropped the mate right in my own drive way while getting out of my Jeep one day.  But, ah, I know just where it is…the parking lot at the Weehawken Ferry Terminal.  I inadvertently dropped it while rushing out of the car when trying to keep up with a date to catch the ferry to the city...and hasn’t been seen since!  Neither has the date which turned out to be a positive item to lose.

  But, what if our challenge is less memory and simply more the daily dollops that fall into our lap?  I recently read that, “The main reason people misplace keys is actually not a failure of memory.  Factors such as fatigue and stress also play a part.  If you go without sufficient sleep, neglect goodeating habits, worry excessively, suffer an emotional upset, your mind will lose itsfocus.  The first solution is then preventative.  If you take steps to reduce stress and take better care of yourself, this would help one to return to the state of ‘best self’.”

Wonderful!  That sounds easy enough.  I’ll just add ‘best self’ to my list of things to find.

Until next time… Top Blonde taking the day…

The king of rolling pins

The range of my imagination is incalculable.  It never fails me… let’s just say it never falls short for painting a dramatic portrait of the human experience filled with all the flair life exudes. 

And so it was on a recent Sunday afternoon when Rob, my special guy, and I were strolling the streets in the river hamlet of Coldspring.  With the winter wind still nipping at our necks we found ourselves dipping in and out of one quaint shop after another.

Upon entering the next stop, Country in the Valley, we were pleasantly enveloped by the cozy charm of country decor.  Stars, scented candles, kitchen linens, jars of jelly, cute mugs, and walls lined with homespun looking wreaths and other antique artifacts made us feel like we were in a cottage in the country.  Over by the wall, a small table with a red gingham cloth had pots with hot coffee and a basket of crackers alongside a jar of seedless red raspberry jam as gratuity for the patrons. 

The wood floors and farm feel make for a hardy hominess that was only magnified the deeper we walked into the store.  What one would think of as the front of the shop, where the counter and register would hail, was in the back.

It was when we stepped up into that back room that our eyes grew wide.  We had a jaw dropping experience of simultaneously spotting the most unusual item either of us had seen in a long while.  A giant wooden rolling pin, the size of Paul Bunyan’s arm, lay diagonally across the counter. 

Mind you, I’ve seen a few rolling pins in my day.  I’ll bet you have too.  You can’t raise a family without a few variations of this nostalgic kitchen utensil.  I remember my mom’s rolling pin with the smooth wood and strong handles for rolling out the perfect crust for her infamous strawberry cream cheese pie.  My current rolling pin is the one with the handles painted that old fashioned green from the fifties. Though slightly dented, the smudge of flour caked on the handle ridges gives it distinction.  

My friend, Anna, surprised me last year with a beautiful ceramic blue and white rolling pin reminiscent of Blue Delft, which I treasure.  It has pedestals to position it on for display.  In light of my drop ability capability, I’ve not christened it just yet.

Kim Olert, the proprietor, told us that just before we arrived, an older man, whose name was Bill, was going by the store and felt that he was to bring her the monstrous masterpiece he had in his car.  She said that Bill told her, “It’s going to bring the store luck”.   We learned that Bill is an antique dealer, a writer, that he lives on a farm, but wasn’t from the area. 

As mentioned above, it doesn’t take much for my imagination to slip into overdrive.  I envisioned that the previous owner of this large capacity rolling pin must have been an Amish woman from the Pennsylvania Dutch country devoted to giving love, care, and nourishment to her family.  Ig so, she arose earlyto bake world class pies fit for a king.  For clearly, like a man or a woman with apast who God has redeemed, that rolling pin likely has a colorful history.  Yet now, its work accomplished, it is set aside and worthy of awe.

We may never know the mystery of Bill, the history of the giant rolling pin, or the truth about the hands that rolled this way and that to flatten the dough with back breaking accuracy for a favorite family delicacy.  What I can tell you is that once your eyes gaze over the smooth dark wood grain of this amazing relic, your imagination will no doubt fill a delicious slice of life.  You might even find yourself digging up your own rolling pin to bake a pie.

Until next time...Top Blonde taking the day...