Past Life Souvenirs

On By Carol White LlewellynIn HumorLeave a comment

I’m in the midst of cleaning out my closets. It’s amazing the wooly mammoths you discover on such an expedition.

Am I the only person with clothing that’s been preserved in a cave closet for over three decades? I just found my favorite dress from my NYC ballroom dancing days, a lovely above-the-knee midnight blue dress with a black brocade front and black velvet collar. Too short, too small, and while I like to think it’s an evergreen style, I also like to think of veggie sticks as health food.

A few items from the wooly mammoth collection actually made it on to the Good Will pile, but as I gently lay my dress on the pile, I swear I heard it scream, “Wait! Wait! I can have another life! I can become evening bags for you and your daughters!”

I hear you chuckling. Yes, It’s back on the hanger in the closet.

Women aren’t the only ones plagued by a fetish for past-life clothing or the “save me until I come back into style” syndrome. Three times in the past week, a former classmate posted pictures of her husband in different t-shirts, probably from favorite concerts. In each photo, the meager strips of fabric stretching across his “gentlemanly” belly made it hard to tell what band he was so zealously promoting, but clearly the shirt has outlived all practical applications as well as the band once proudly emblazoned across an undoubtedly flatter surface.

I’d like to believe this phenomenon is due to environmental conscientiousness, but I think it’s more likely due to “Past Life Attachment.” It’s hard to divorce yourself from reminders of trimmer, more active bodies, more adventurous spirits, and life in the fast lane.

When I look in my closet and see it exploding with various souvenirs of my past, I’m just glad I never took up scuba diving, lion taming, or interstellar travel. I can just imagine how much space those “souvenirs” would have taken up. I can also imagine the looks I’d get when I finally dropped them off at Good Will…perhaps adding a surprising level of authenticity to someone’s Halloween costume.

The Ants Go Marching…

On By Carol White LlewellynIn HumorLeave a comment

We seem to have a serious ant problem this year. No, not the kind in the clever Geico commercial that uses the homophone about annoying female relatives telling you the contents of your fridge is expired, the annoying ones that traipse across anything that’s not moving. Beware sleeping pets and snoozing spouses!

In a kind-hearted gesture, I trapped the first few in a glass and moved them outside. I didn’t put tracking tags on them, but I’m pretty sure those same exact little suckers came back for seconds and thirds.  So I’ve had to resort to more drastic measures.

To “invite” them to depart from our premises, I purchased a case of ant bait. The instructions assured me that the little critters take the poison back home, thereby killing the entire colony. I suspect the ants are too smart for that. Instead, the colony hears the ant with the poison picnic coming, and they all stampede in a beelineantline straight to our house to escape.

I proposed the idea to my husband of putting a sugar lick in the yard, similar to salt licks for deer, to keep the ants outside, but he assured me this would only ensure more would visit, leaving little sticky (Paw? Foot? Leg?) prints on every surface.  I ditched that idea.

But now, the problem has magnified. As I was doing research on one computer monitor, out of the corner of my eye, I caught the cursor on my other monitor moving all by itself. Shifting my gaze to the second screen, I was horrified to realize that if that ant had his way, he’d be editing my text. 

So my husband went out and bought a pack of ant traps to put on the exterior of the house, and those seem to be helping.

All I’ve got to say is, lucky for the ants that we’re low on chocolate right now, or I might be tempted to see if I have the “refined and adventurous palate” (Amazon’s description) that might allow me to enjoy these “chocolate covered delicacies.”  In a slight twist of idiom, I say, “If you can’t beat them, eat them!

“P.S. Just kidding! I don’t think even desperation would make me go that far!

Of Ovens and Athletes

On By Carol White LlewellynIn HumorLeave a comment

Our oven has been on strike this past couple of weeks, spitting out only half-heartedly-cooked meals. 

I’ve come to realize that ovens are like athletes: you need to give them time to warm up, and once they get past their prime, it’s time for retirement.

At first, I thought I hadn’t given my vintage warrior a sufficient pep talk or enough warm up time, causing my brownies to come out the consistency of  a mud bath.

So, rather than simply throw in the towel on our antique athlete who has given us many great years of winning meals, I went out and purchased an oven thermometer. 

That night, I set the oven to 400° to cook clam strips and I waited ten minutes.  Alas, a cool 0° on the thermometer confirmed the sad news that my antique athlete had definitively kicked the bucket.

As I contemplated how to healthily cook clam strips, sans oven or air fryer, I commented to my husband, “Well, our oven is officially dead. We’re going to have to look for a new one.“

He responded, “Do we have anything planned for Saturday?”

Me: “Not that I know of, why?”

Him: “Because I’m making an appointment to give blood.”

Wondering what giving blood had to do with my culinary conundrum, I replied “I thought you were asking so we could go look for a new stove.”

Him: “Memorial Day Sales are coming up.”

“It’s March 8th. Memorial Day isn’t until May 31st.”

“Well, we don’t use the oven that much, do we?”

I was almost able to bite back the retort, “Well, one-half of ‘we’ never uses it.”

On Saturday, the situation was still status quo when I asked him what he might want me to pick up at the grocery store.

“Do they have any cinnamon buns?”

I responded, “They do. In a pop-open container by Pillsbury. Unfortunately, I can’t make them, because this half of ‘we’ needs an oven to do so.”

I can’t help but think that if that darned oven had a starter cord, we’d have gone out that very night to buy a new one.

P.S. Beware of annoying writers. You may find yourself the subject of a humor column.

Life Planning for Retirement

On By Carol White LlewellynIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Today’s post may not resonate with every reader—for some it may feel premature, and for others, firmly in the rearview mirror—but it’s a topic worth reflecting on, sooner or later.

I subscribe to a number of e-newsletters, and a while ago, Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham, Founder of Women Ties, wrote about an experience many friends and acquaintances have quietly wrestled with.

Tracy is about to turn 60 and has recently chosen to semi-retire. She’s stepping back from taking on new clients and participating in business events. It was a decision she felt good about—until she sat down to do her taxes. In that moment, the full weight of her choice became clear. After 30 years of steadily growing a business devoted to helping female entrepreneurs succeed, the upward revenue curve had unmistakably begun to slope downward.

While semi-retirement was entirely her decision, it also served as a powerful wake-up call: it was time to consciously refocus on the people, life choices, and non-business pursuits that matter most to her.

Most of us closely identify with our work—and with the income it generates. In many cases, that identity is something we’ve chosen, unless circumstances dictated otherwise. Even when we don’t love a particular job, the skills, expertise, and experience we accumulate over time become woven into our sense of self. And often, the more we’ve loved our careers, the harder it becomes to imagine who we are without them.

I’ve watched people I know transition into retirement. Some take to it effortlessly. More, however, are surprised to discover how difficult it can be to redefine themselves and find a new “happy place” once their long-held professional identity is no longer front and center.

Those who seem to thrive are the ones who’ve cultivated interests beyond their careers—new hobbies, volunteer work, diverse friendships—or who’ve found ways to channel their experience into new adventures aligned with what they most enjoy.

It’s also worth remembering that the numbers on a spreadsheet or tax return say nothing about your value as a person.

So whether retirement feels near or far off, it’s worth recognizing that life planning deserves as much care and intention as financial planning.

Ode to Groundhog Day

On By Carol White LlewellynIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Tomorrow’s a strange day when many rely,
on advice from a groundhog for how long snow will fly.

Since the late 1800s guests have gathered around,
for a forecast from Phil, who ascends from the ground.

If he spots his shadow, we’ve a long, cold duration,
of gloves, shovels and snow boots, plus winter’s frustration.

In Phil’s decades of forecasts, the odds aren’t too great,
that spring will come early and snow will abate.

In 12 decades of time using phil’s prognostication,
only 19 occasions were true cause for elation*.

There’s still reason for hope, with this plan I’ll describe,
spring might just come early, if we give the critter a bribe.

*According to Wikipedia, in the 128 years in which Phil’s predictions have been recorded since 1887, he’s only predicted an early spring 19 times! His accuracy in forecasting is under dispute, as errors are often attributed to the individual interpreting Punxsutawney Phil’s communication.

Originally published in the February 1, 2024 issue of BeyondtheNest, Rochester’s Free weekly newsletter on Arts, Culture & Recreation.

A Humorous Look at Travel Trials & Tribulations

On By Carol White LlewellynIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

When I was younger, I traveled about once a month for my job in NYC. Travel at that time was a lot easier. It’s a whole different ballgame today—basically, it’s the difference between ping pong and football—and you’re the ball.

We just got back from visiting our daughter who lives in Sweden. We made our reservations eons ago… long enough, in fact, that the airlines canceled multiple flights multiple times. Someone at the airlines must be psychic to know four months in advance that missing plane, crew or sufficient passengers would make the transatlantic flight inviable. The morning of our thrice-rescheduled flights, we arrived at the airport three hours in advance, with our printed out, confirmed flights scrunched firmly in fist, only to discover the airline computers thought we were returning home from Sweden that day, before we’d even left. So much for psychic omniscience. Our flight savior, who had to manually enter our information, handed us our manufactured boarding passes and casually warned us to check our return transatlantic flight because something seemed to have gone haywire. 

Haywire indeed. Our flight had evaporated. Without notice. When we investigated, we discovered our flight from Stockholm would land us in Munich, where, with no flight and no hotel reservations, we’d be forced to drink beer and sing German drinking songs, slumped over a table in Munich’s famous Hofbräuhaus… Ein, Zwei, G’Suffa!

Because my husband made reservations through a ticket consolidator, he spent half a day trying to ensure our return via something other than rowboat. Success! Our return flight cost only about $1000 more than the original round trip had cost. Hopefully the promises made by the travel insurance company do not also evaporate.

If you’ve flown recently, you know I could continue the humor about going through customs, bags having to be rechecked to continue on with the same airline, and myriad delays, but I have only so much space here.

An additional word of advice: If you’re going to fly, arrange to be on the same rescheduled flight as my husband and I. We’ve cornered the market on TSA searches, so you probably won’t be bothered. He hit the jackpot this trip because on both legs of our transatlantic flights, he was stopped, wanded, and his bag and computer searched and tested for drugs and explosives. Who knew TSA has a “Suspect Senior” category for random searches?

You know, you learn a lot about a person when you travel with them. Until this trip, I had no idea the TSA suspected my husband—because of what he had stowed in his carry on—of being a mule for some overseas lord pushing antiquated 6-pound computers. 

Originally published in the January 24, 2024 issue of BeyondtheNest.com, Rochester’s free weekly guide to arts, culture and recreation.