Category: Life

Posted in lessons, Life

Listing ended: better luck next time

Posted on by William Douthwaite
I could have had this watch for $3.25

I’ve begun doing some running again after a few years off. My feet still ache a little, but not enough to keep me away from a few miles here and there. I started carrying my iPhone with me so the Map My Run app could figure out the time and distance of each run around neighborhood streets.

I don’t especially like carrying anything on a run, so I thought I’d look into getting a GPS-equipped running watch. I had a bare-bones Garmin Forerunner 10 a decade ago. It did the job, but had lousy battery life. Some of the latest model Garmin watches can set you back more than a thousand dollars. Surely I can find something in-between on eBay.

And I did. Someone was offering a Garmin triathlon sports watch. Had some wear and tear, but fully waterproof and had nice battery life. It had one bid for $2.25 with five days to go. It was tested, working, included a charger, and could be returned for a refund if I wanted to send it back. What did I have to lose? I bid $3.25, with automatic increases up to $10.

With a day to go, I was the highest bidder at $10. But you know how that goes. Bidders lurk until the last minute to out bid you. No problem. There were lots of other watches for sale.

Then I got an alert that the auction had been cancelled. The watch was no longer for sale. A note said, “The item has been lost or broken.” Oops. But, an hour later, it was listed again, with the same $2.25 bid and a buy now option of $39.95.

The seller either didn’t know what he or she was doing, or they weren’t getting the bids they anticipated. Or, they were messing around and broke the watch. Or the dog chewed it up. Or they started working out again. Or they lost it. Who knows?

I know I’ll find a bargain. I’ll bet there are as many unused running watches out there as there are unused gym memberships. I come across new listings every day.

This happened to me once before, when I was bidding on a vintage Monopoly game. The price was low, I was the winning bidder, but the seller suddenly ended the auction. I found another one in minutes. Their loss.

Posted in Life

I’m on a mission

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
What is your mission?
View all responses
Photo by Tara Winstead: https://www.pexels.com/photo/mission-wooden-blocks-on-white-surface-7666429/

“Give me a mission!”

When we took our five-year old grandson and his two sisters to a playground, they climbed on the playscape, slid down the slides, and swung on the swings. Now what? “Give me a mission!”

The last time my son had brought his kids here, he challenged them with a scavenger hunt to keep them occupied for a while. Now they wanted a quest to accompany every outing.

As we discovered, it didn’t have to be complicated. There’s always trash around, so I said, “Go find six water bottle caps.” And off they ran. A few minutes later, they laid out a nice row of plastic caps on the picnic table.

“What’s the next mission?”

Life is filled with short and long term goals any of which could be classified as a mission. But I think this prompt intends to uncover an overarching purpose for one’s life. The mission shifts from graduating and getting a job to raising a new generation. Once they graduate and get jobs, another generation comes along to grandparent. But now my current mission is figuring out a meaningful retirement.

In his children’s novel Mathilda, Roald Dahl wrote, “I didn’t know where I was going until I got there.” I like this line. It fits my present mission as I explore relationships, improve skills, understand time, and ponder my mission on any given day.

When the mission is figuring out my mission, anything is possible.

Posted in Life

Just long enough

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?
View all responses
Photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash

My thoughts about living a long life are shaped by some of the ninety and one hundred year olds I’ve gotten to know.

Bob was ninety-eight years old when I called to see how he was doing. His eyesight was failing and he knew it was time to sell his home and finds a different living arrangement. He shared with me, “I know where I’m going after I die. I’m just not ready to go yet.” I thought, “Wow. When will you be ready?”

My dad was in his nineties when my brother and sister and I decided he couldn’t be alone in his house anymore. All of a sudden, he stopped taking care of the yard, cleaning the house, and getting haircuts. He knew it was time for a change, too.

When I visited my dad in assisted living, we spent a lot of time looking through old pictures. He said, “I think I’m getting old.” I said, “Dad, you’re in your nineties.” He looked at me like I was insane. “No I’m not!” When we affirmed his birthday and figured out his age, he was surprised by his age.

Another friend, Betty, has made it to one hundred and two years so far. She has outlived all her friends and most of her family. She had little to look forward to each day.

So why do we exercise, take vitamins, and eat a healthy diet? We want to put off death as long as possible. Which means aspire to live a very long life.

And we rarely stop to think about what that means.

It means someone else will be taking care of us. It means we will no longer live in our own home. It means that we will have outlived most of our friends and family. It means that you will most likely be very, very lonely.

So I want to live just long enough. Just long enough to hold a great-grandchild, finish writing my story, sing a song, eat a piece of chocolate, and down a shot of bourbon.

That should be long enough.

Posted in Life

I can do anything differently. But I probably won’t.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
What could you do differently?
View all responses
Photo by Mulyadi on Unsplash

For a whole year, people have asked me the opposite question: “What can you do the same?” In other words, what habits and systems will you establish to relieve stress, increase productivity, and make incremental improvements? This comes from successful folks who share their morning rituals with me so that I can have a better life. They discipline themselves to wake up at the same time, dress the same way, eat the same meals, and take the same route to work in order to clear their minds for more important tasks. Those folks would advocate that the one thing I could do differently is to do the same thing every day.

But Jerry Seinfeld challenged George Costanza, “If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right.” George tries it and immediately connects with a woman who had been looking in his direction. Doing things differently changes his life, at least for one episode.

So I can do anything and everything differently. The possibilities are endless. Multiple options are within my grasp. However, I know I’m probably not going to do much differently. I am a creature of habit.

But what I can do differently isn’t actually different. It’s just “one more” or “one percent more” of what I’ve been doing. It’s reading one more page or running one more minute. It’s writing one more paragraph or practicing a line of music one more time. It’s saying one more prayer or drinking one more sip of water. Over time, I run faster, feel healthier, and sound better. And I didn’t do anything differently.

Posted in Life

My billboard: “Choose joy”

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
If you had a freeway billboard, what would it say?
View all responses

I drive by billboards every day. The local ones I remember are those that make me chuckle. Like

  • “Zero wait time ER.” I recommend bringing a book to read.
  • “Number one hospital in the county.” Oh, by the way, it’s the only hospital in the county.
  • “The lawyer got me four million dollars!” Good luck seeing any of that. The other guy had no insurance.

My billboard would be short, sweet, and to the point:

“Choose joy.”

Plenty of drivers on the highway choose to be impatient, rude, speedy, irritable, oblivious, distracted, selfish, and irresponable. You know who I’m talking about.

Along with “Be generous,” “Pursue grace,” and “Be positive,” I’ve written “Choose joy” in the front of my journal, a daily reminder of that option. That billboard will remind me – as I drive by with all those drivers I mentioned above – that joy is within reach.

I find that gratitude leads to joy. I’m thankful for places to go, a car, fuel, and highways to get me there, people to visit, rays of sun from behind the clouds, a cup of coffee in the center console, music to listen to, and those in the car with me. It might take longer than I thought, I might have to go a different way, I may have to slow down because of the rain, and a truck may be right there on my tail. None of those things can steal my joy. Joy comes from within, able to overcome the frustrations, delays, and disappointments.

Those words always get me thinking. Maybe they’ll move someone else to make a similar choice. More joy, even a little bit, would be welcome out on the road.

Posted in garden, Life

Winter tomatoes

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After trying several varieties, I’ve had the most success growing cherry tomatoes in my raised gardens. Five vines filled the chicken wire cages I built to keep the squirrels out and produced dozens of cherry tomatoes.

Since those gardens were on the side of the house, they received enough shade to survive a Florida summer. I was still harvesting tomatoes well into October from a March planting. I was going to buy and plant new ones in the fall for the second growing season. Instead, I cut off some of the fullest branches, stripped leaves from the bottom half, and replanted them in the soil. They took root and grew beyond the confines of the cage itself. In mid-December, the vines were covered with small green tomatoes. On January 1, I harvested a nice crop for our first salads of the new year.

Unless we happen to get a freeze, I’m looking forward to many more.

I’m thrilled with my winter tomatoes for several reasons. First, it’s hard to find good tomatoes any time of the year in Florida. The ones in the store are some kind of coral color without much taste. These were red, ripe, and delicious,

Second, I didn’t have to buy these plants. I was able to start new vines from cuttings. So they were free. Kind of.

Third, picking tomatoes in January is like thumbing your nose at winter. I know, we don’t really get winter in Florida. But when the temps drop into the thirties, unpleasant memories of bitterly cold winters resurface. All I have to do is pop a tomato in my mouth, and all that goes away.

Posted in Life

A cafe full of cats

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Our four-year-old granddaughter’s outing of choice was a trip to Whiskers and Soda cat cafe. For the uninitiated, a cat cafe is a room full of cats containing a coffee shop. This one is run by a local animal shelter. Their hope is that you’ll fall in love and take home a cat. I think most people go to get a cat fix because there is no way they are taking one home.

Tables and chairs fill the center of the room, equipped with cat books and puzzles. Snoozing cats surround patrons on beds, blankets, cushions, and shelves up and down the walls. Kittens are in a separate room in the back. When cats want to take a break, they have access to a room locked off from visitors.

Most of the cats were sleeping. A few came over to see us when we came through the door. One cat was watching a video of birds and squirrels at a feeder. Others sat by the front window watching people come and go. Some jumped up on our table to see what we were doing.

I got a nice purr from a calico in a love seat. A gray tiger stripe curled up in my lap when I sat on the floor, and stretched up to rub his face against my beard. All the others ignored me, sleeping, pretending to sleep, or scampering away to the “cats only” room.

My granddaughter and her nine-year-old sister both enjoyed a hour with the cats. There wasn’t much of a cafe other than sodas in a cooler. One family took a kitten home, and we smiled as much as they did.

Posted in Life

The week before Christmas: long lines and tall stacks

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My mission: buy stamps for Christmas cards. I decided I wanted something Christmas-y. I knew the post office would be busy on December 18, so I was prepared to wait in line.

I got one of the last spots in the parking lot. There was a substantial line, but I got in the door. A few minutes later, twenty more people would be in a line stretching outside behind me. Plus, ten people were lined up in the lobby to use the self-serve kiosks.

As I waited, I glanced back and saw this shipping bin behind me.

Wow. Impressive. It looks like a pirate ship. Or a game where you stack up different shaped objects. I’ve printed plenty of my own labels to ship items I’ve sold online. If I walked in with prepaid packages to ship, I’d be like, “Sweet! Let’s see if I can get this stack up to the ceiling!”

As I look at this picture a second time, I see a lot of packing tape labeled Whatnot. Whatnot describes itself a “social marketplace,” where sellers hawk their items via livestream rather than with static pictures like you see on eBay. By the looks of it, someone in town has had a good weekend on Whatnot.

Intriguing. I’ll check it out and get back to you.

Posted in Life, waiting

Forgotten? Probably not.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Sandra Seitamaa on Unsplash

We weren’t in a hurry. After an afternoon of crafting with a crafty friend, we decided to get chips, wings, and a burger at a nearby sports bar type restaurant. I was surprised by the crowd when we arrived. The parking lot wasn’t full. But the wait was short and we settled into a big booth.

Our server breezed by to get our drink order. “Chips and salsa, too, please.”

“Sure!” She quickly returned with our drinks, took our order, and disappeared around the corner. Disappeared is the key word here. From now on our waitress will be out of sight. (Sorry. It’s almost Christmas. I can’t help it.)

We chatted about the Christmas cards we had just crafted, upcoming family birthdays, this week’s trip to Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas, next week’s trip out of town, big dogs and little dogs, and “She heard us order chips and salsa, right?” It had been about ten minutes since we ordered. Someone usually runs them right out.

As we sat, a few tables finished up, replacement families sat down, and no one was watching the televisions around the room. We talked about Christmas Eve and Day with the family, gifts ordered, gifts we were waiting for, gifts to return, and “I don’t even see our server.” When other servers brought plates to folks who arrived after us, we began to feel forgotten.

“How long have we been here?”

“About twenty minutes.”

“Maybe we should flag down another server.” While several hustled around the dining room, none passed by our booth.

As I scanned the room again, our server suddenly appeared from around the corner with our food. Well, most of our food. Wings? Check. Burger? Check. Chips and salsa? Nope. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Just be sure to take them off our check.”

Our server stopped by multiple times to make sure everything tasted good. It did. Our food really hit the spot. I didn’t say anything, but wondered how we got lost on a not-so-busy night. I’m sure I have no idea all that happens in the back, even when things slow down.

So I’ll just be thankful for a less frantic, more relaxed moment in my day, food on the table, and time together.