Category: Life

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.

Posted in Life

More houses, fewer wooded lots

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The steady beep-beep-beep echoed down the street at 7:15 am. Not just one, but two excavators were at work clearing lots for new homes on my street. The heavy Case equipment easily uprooted thirty to forty foot tall pine trees, leaving behind an impressive pile of logs ready to be hauled away.

Twenty-eight years ago, as we slowly drove up and down these streets in search of a place to build our home, there were twice as many wooded lots as houses. Ironically, most of the trees in Palm Coast were tall, skinny slash pines, accompanied by a few cedars and palm trees, and surrounded by palmettos. From what I remember, all the lots pretty much looked the same. We picked one on a street where most people took good care of their homes.

When we built our house, we were surrounded by undeveloped lots. While schools, church, and stores weren’t far away, we were living in the woods. There was plenty of space for BMX bike trails, forts, and wildlife. The surrounding trees provided welcome shade in the summer, dusted our cars with green pollen in the springtime, and dotted the yard with pine cones in summer.

We knew it wouldn’t stay this way forever. Every once in a while a lot would be cleared for new construction. New neighbors gradually filled in the spaces between existing homes. More cars drove down the street each day. Little by little, the woods disappeared.

Besides trees, I’m interested in what contractors find on the property. Once a lot is cleared, a pile of old tires often appears, along with furniture, boards, buckets, metal and pieces of concrete. Vacant lots are popular dumping grounds for all kinds of trash.

When we cleared our lot, we left about fifteen feet of wooded area in the back yard. Now, every single tree is taken away. The land is stripped bare to become a blank canvas for fill dirt, concrete, sod, and landscaping.

On the plus side, there are fewer trees for hurricanes to blow around. But I miss the green. The deer and bunnies have moved out, too, as relentless waves of people continue moving to Florida.

Posted in Life, memories, Travel

A blizzard, a phone call, and Florida

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/trees-and-cars-covered-by-snow-512229/

Subfreezing temperatures. Flurries in the forecast. Pretty normal February day in Iowa. White piles along the road reminded me of last week’s snow. The gray sky, leafless trees, and bite in the air testified that spring was still far away.

The car heater had barely warmed up when I pulled into the parking lot. After a quick walk inside, I piled my coat, scarf, hat, and gloves on a side chair and turned on my computer. My car, just a few feet away on the other side of my office window, didn’t seem to mind the cold at all.

Not long before lunchtime, the wind blew the first flakes of snow past my window. As I watched, more and more snow fell, and the winter world’s grays and browns succumbed to a coating of white. The wind picked up as the sky suddenly dumped all of it’s snow at once. I couldn’t even see my car as today’s “flurries” matured into a full on blizzard.

My desk phone rang. It was probably my wife, making sure I was okay. I wasn’t planning on driving anywhere anytime soon. But it wasn’t her. It was someone calling me from Florida. They just wanted to ask if I was open to considering a job change and relocating.

To Florida? The Sunshine State? I said, “Sure,” but in my mind I was thinking, “How about I come down today?” Lol. The interview was in April, and we moved there in June.

That was twenty-eight years ago. And you know, I just don’t miss the gray skies, leafless trees, bite in the air, and driving home in a blizzard.

Posted in coffee, Life

Fewer seats, more customers

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After I dropped off my dog at the groomer, I drove by my favorite Starbucks to see if they had re-opened. The store had been closed for remodeling, and the half-full parking lot was a welcome sight. With journal and pen in hand, I looked forward to an hour of coffee, eavesdropping, observation, thinking up story ideas, and doodling.

I actually had two journals with me. The one was just about full with just two blank pages left. The other was freshly unwrapped without a single mark on the pages. I love new journal day! I remember my mom telling me how much she loved cracking open a new notebook, feeling the smooth pages, and anticipating the words and images that would soon fill them. I know exactly how she felt.

Anyway, when I stepped into the redone coffee shop, I noticed a lack of seats. Half of the store was set aside for the baristas. The mobile order pickup area was expansive. One long table with chairs on each side filled the coffee-drinkers’ side. At each end was a table surrounded by a few chairs. A few scattered customers essentially filled the room. There was no place to sit, unless I was comfortable sitting side-by-side with purple-haired macchiato-drinking woman chatting on her phone.

I found a spot to sit outside at one of the ten patio tables. While there, I wondered, “Why did they get rid of so much indoor seating?” I put on my franchise-owner’s hat and came up with a few ideas.

  • Since it was right off the interstate, a lot of this location’s business was drive-thru and mobile orders. More room for more baristas will keep up with demand.
  • Every time I’ve been there, homeless were camped out, nursing a tall coffee for hours. Students occupied tables with laptops and textbooks for hours. Interviewers met with job applicant after job applicant. Fewer seats moves more customers through the store.
  • It was a corporate decision. This is what we want our stores to look like. We’ve never been to your store, but the data says this is the way to go. Live with it.
  • We want people to moan and groan about the change. There is no bad publicity, right? Let’s give the bloggers something to rant about. You have a problem with this? Let’s talk about it over coffee.

By the time I left, the parking lot was full, the mobile order counter was full, and the drive thru line was out to the street. Someone knows what they are doing.

Posted in communication, Life

You better check your email

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Stephen Phillips – Hostreviews.co.uk on Unsplash

At the beginning of my online bible study group, the leader reminded us of an email he had sent out a few days before, telling us that we would have to cover two lessons to stay on schedule. However, we would not have time to discuss two entire lessons in our one-hour time slot. So he sent out some highlight questions from each of the two lessons.

One group member entered the Zoom room about five minutes late, and was surprised at how far along we were. The leader explained that we were fast-tracking each of the two lessons, as outlined in his email. This member replied, “Oh, well, I’m only on my email once every couple of weeks, so I didn’t see that.”

That comment got my attention. He only checks his email once every two weeks? I check mine at least twice a day. I’ll bet many check it more often than that.

So I’ve been wondering if it’s better to check it more often or less. I can think of pros and cons for both.

If I check my email more than twice a day, I end up spending a lot more time online than I want to. A few newsletters bring me up to date on current events. Merchants I’ve purchased from send along coupons and discount codes so I’ll return to their sites to shop for more. I get weekly updates about activities at church and in the community. I receive notifications about recent purchases and upcoming deliveries. I get appointment reminders. All of these beg for my attention, tempt me to click and read more, eating away at my day one little bite at a time.

But if I go more than a day without checking my email, I’ll have over fifty unread emails. If I skip a week, my inbox will be filled with hundreds of emails. And that doesn’t include all that go immediately into the spam folder. When the list of unread email is more than several pages, I’m sure to miss something I need to know or communication from someone close to me.

On the other hand, I don’t get much email from those close to me. Most of my personal communication comes via text message. Family photos are mostly shared on social media. Important official correspondence comes in the mail.

But I depend on email to find out about local events. I get receipts from recent purchases and updates on travel arrangements. One Sunday morning, I was alerted to a detour I’d have to take to get to church. The library sends me a list of books I’ve checked out by email, too.

I remember when email was a new experience. We were all thrilled to read, “You’ve got mail.” Once, someone called me to ask, “Did you get my email?” Lol. You could have just called me. Twenty years later, the shine has worn off. Too much spam. Too many promotions. Too much junk.

Twice a day should be plenty. Productivity experts say don’t check email till 11 am and never after 8 pm. I can do that. But once every two weeks is a bit much for me.