Past Blogs

I now know how to determine if I am in an emergency situation…….I check out my local Waffle House. If it is closed, the world is ending.

Unfortunately, I do not have a local Waffle House. I live in one of the 25 states that is Waffle Houseless. Therefore, F.E.M.A. will not know that the tornado, flood, blizzard or earthquake has ravaged my community. I’m doomed.

Let me explain. A recent Marketplace Report on N.P.R. told how F.E.M.A. determines  the extent of a natural disaster in an area by checking on the status of the Waffle House restaurants. This southern based chain of 1,500 restaurants prides itself on 24/7 service to its customers, and they have excellent plans in place to stay open no matter what horrific event occurs. If they are forced to close, a disaster of major proportions has struck. I do not fault F.E.M.A. for taking cues from waffles: we should all learn from others who excel at what they do.

Don’t expect to eat a waffle if you take shelter in a Waffle House during a horrific storm. Their emergency menu will have kicked in. The waffles aren’t made as they take too much electricity to produce. Bacon is banished as well as it takes up too much grill space. However,  you will be fed and the lights will be on thanks to emergency generators.

I love road trips and have passed by the iconic Waffle Houses thousands of times. But since they look as lonely as the Edward Hopper painting “Nighthawks”, I’ve never stopped in. Now I plan on visiting one in tribute to their excellent preparedness skills. And besides, I checked out their menu online. They serve twelve different kinds of hash browns. I just won’t visit during an emergency.

I recently read an inadvertently hilarious article in the New York Times business pages, a section that usually induces more sorrow than laughs.

The headline read,”A Visit to McDonald’s, Celebrity Chef in Tow”. The piece began by noting McDonald’s drop in sales for the last five consecutive quarters and Consumer Reports ranking its burgers the worst of 21 chains. Then the reporter and his invited lunch guest, a celebrity chef, visit a Manhattan McDonald’s to critique the situation. The article notes that the chef serves a burger and fries at his own restaurant for $22.00, supposedly making him an expert on burger matters.

After taking a bite from a quarter pounder, the chef delivers his verdict: “The food could be better”.

Who among us could not have written this assessment?

The super star chef goes on to give thumbs up to the fries and coffee. The fact that McDonald’s serves killer fries is not a revelation: it is common knowledge that the fries are killer good and that they will kill you if made a daily part of your diet.

McDonald’s coffee is not a thumbs up; it is not even half a little finger up. The truth is that their coffee ranges from passable in an emergency to so awful it is undrinkable. And unless you’re a refugee from the Good Ship Lollipop needing a serious sugar fix, avoid McDonald’s “lattes”.

I’ll conclude with the scariest line in the article. The esteemed chef states, “I can assure you that if they had a great story and a better company culture, the same burger would taste a lot better.”

No it wouldn’t. Sometimes even a great newspaper can serve up junk.

March in the north country is known to induce cabin fever and winter doldrums. But these conditions are reversible.

The Danes, Swedes and Norwegians are experts in dealing with winter’s gray days, long nights and chilly temperatures. They consistently rank among the happiest nations on earth.

The Danish word “hygge” has no counterpart in English. The following attempt at a translation is my favorite: ” The essence of hygge is to surround yourself in a warm, cozy atmosphere with people you care about and enjoy something you love.” Having coffee with friends in a favorite cafe, sharing a homemade meal, cuddling up and watching old movies or lighting many candles are all examples of Hygge.

My husband and I practiced hygge even before we knew the word. When nights are frigid and the wind is rattling the house, we pick up our small kitchen table and move it in front of the living room fireplace. As soon as we sit down to eat, a parade of cats comes in and surrounds us. Thoughts of the wretched weather vanish in the warmth.

The Norwegian word “friluftsliv” is literally translated “free life air” and is a philosophy of life in Norway and Sweden. Rather than being tourists viewing nature, the Scandinavians feel connected and part of nature. Going on hikes, spending a month near a lake, river or the sea, feeling the rhythm of the seasons and being at home when away from the bustling material world are viewed as mandatory to well being.

I am in tune with much of the friluftsliv way of life with one big caveat. When it is freezing cold outside and the wind is gusting 30 miles per hour, all I want is hygge…..lots and lots of it.

My ninth year of weekly Suitcase Lady blogs begins this week. I began the blog in 2007 when America was mired in the Iraq War, the economy was collapsing and mass shootings were in the headlines.

These horrible events were becoming the predominant topics of conversation whenever I met with family and friends. To keep a sense of balance, I felt a strong need to purposefully focus on the happier aspects of my personal life and the small sphere in which I spend my days. The author, Phyllis Theroux, states this impulse perfectly in her new book, The Journal Keeper. She writes, “I learned not to immortalize the darkness….what I needed was a place in which to collect the light.”

I decided to write a blog for friends, family and anyone needing a small break from the daily headlines. The blog would be about a one minute read: I know people’s time is precious. And since our lives are weighed down by current events, I wanted my topics to be antidotes to the news. I need to believe that we can create joy in the small theater of our lives even as the storms rage around us.

To celebrate nine years, I’m going to borrow an idea from Jon Talton who marked his blog’s anniversary by reposting his favorite blogs through the years. My husband (and technical partner in the blog) recently surprised me by gathering all 417 posts in a book. Ironically, I selected the following eight postings the old fashioned way, by leafing through the pages. And, of course, I just broke my one minute rule. Click links for time travel…

2007 – Islands
2008 – Duck
2009 – Sex
2010 – Frances
2011 – Directions
2012 – Childhood
2013 – Snowman
2014 – Piggy

I’ve always been an incurable romantic. I love everything about Valentine’s Day: the lacy hearts, the candy in heart shaped boxes and the abundance of flowers. And all this brightness, sweetness and beauty arrives in the gray, cold month of February when it is most needed.

An added bonus is that even Christians do not know exactly which of its three Saint Valentines the holiday is honoring. No one gets insulted if I say, “Happy Valentine’s Day”. This is a stress free and low key holiday.

But one thing has always troubled me. The emphasis on Valentine’s Day is on romantic love; girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands, wives and lovers. Sadly, romantic love is a gift of pure chance, and Cupid’s arrows are notoriously random. You’re lucky if you are in love.

Everyone, however, does need to have love and to give love in order to be a happy human being. Fortunately, many kinds of love exist, and Valentine’s Day can be expanded to celebrate love’s myriad manifestations such as:

• The love teachers give to their students, even the troubled ones
• The love given by medical workers especially those who go into war zones and epidemic hot spots
• The love given to the elderly by workers in assisted livings and nursing homes
• The love environmentalists give to the earth

The Beatles got it right again, “All you need is love”. Doesn’t say it is only that romantic stuff that counts.