Ash Wednesday Tradition

Today is Ash Wednesday and I cooked hot dogs for dinner. 

I know, you are confused -- you aren't supposed to eat meat on Ash Wednesday. 

There's a backstory, you can read it the whole thing in this post from 2011. 

The short version is Paul's Catholic, gives up meat on Ash Wednesday and Fridays during Lent. I'm Protestant and that isn't our practice. When Paul and I were dating he bowled on Wednesday nights. He'd go right from work and I would meet him there. His Dad, Joe, would come watch, faithfully, every week. During the second game, I'd go order us dinner.

That night Paul probably had a fish sandwich, but I, I ordered my usual - "the split." That was a hot dog and french fries.

Joe was obviously bothered by the fact that I was enjoying that hot dog. Months later, when we were telling Paul's mom about that night she said "He wasn't mad that you were eating it, he was mad that he COULDN'T" 

We laughed so hard. 

Then it just sort of became a thing - mostly after he passed. When the kids were little, I would load them up and take them to the snack bar at the bowling alley and we'd order hot dogs and french fries. I'd tell them about that night and other funny stories about him. They never knew him, he died in December of 2005 and Brooke arrived in September of 2006. 

Tonight, I had a meeting at 7 and Kristen stayed after school. There wasn't time to go out, but there was time to have hot dogs and remember Grandpa Joe. 

So tonight is Ash Wednesday and we had hot dogs for dinner and I am smiling for all the happy times I shared with my father in law. 

For the record, Paul had cheese pizza.

Joe Romanski throwing out the first pitch

Are You Kidding Me?

 

Many of you know that Paul has worked for UPS as a driver for over 30 years. He's had a handful of routes in different towns. He's seen some interesting things over the years. 

He's seen deer wandering through yards. He's helped turtles across the road even though some were less than grateful. 

He's delivered to houses with cats, dogs - friendly and unfriendly, and there was the house with the potbellied pig -- that lived inside the house. 

About 3 years ago, Paul took a route in Northeastern CT, almost to the Massachusetts border. The route is rural and full of farms. We enjoyed many weekend rides to Woodstock and back during 2020 when there was nowhere else to go. 

It isn't unusual to get a text from him during the day. Sometimes it is of a sign that caught his eye, sometimes it is a garden, fire pit, or some other landscape feature that he might consider adding to Romanskiville. 

Today, this was the picture I received. Paul met him a few months ago and has named him "Roy" -- that's a story for another post. Roy is super friendly, very intrigued by the big brown truck, and while he has no problem jumping up in it, does seem to be terrified to jump out. Paul regularly has to scoop him up and set him back on the ground. 

Here's Roy! 

#WakeUp100

The Next 100 Days

 

I posted on Friday for the first time in almost a month. I sort of "declared" that I was going to get serious about my writing, about being "a writer."

The roadblock for me has never been a lack of a material. It has been a combination of fear and lack of consistency. 

Maybe it is because I'm quickly approaching my 50th birthday? Maybe it is because I was recently reminded - again - that life is short and that there are absolutely no guarantees? Maybe it is because I have finally (pretty much) accepted that not everyone is going to like me? That what I say will not resonate with some people? Maybe I figured out that this is important to ME and if others are touched, too, that is icing on the cake. 

The second stumbling block is the consistency, building the habit of writing regularly. Last summer, I was introduced to Lindsay Teague Moreno. She did 2 keynotes at a virtual business conference that I attended. I was instantly drawn to her down to earth, tell it like it is personality. I read, well she read, her book Boss Up to me on Audible. Then she published Wake Up, honestly, I haven't finished it yet. 

In tandem with the book, Lindsay champions the #Wakeup100 challenge. The Reader's Digest version is that you pick 1 area of your life, and 1 thing you are going to focus on for 100 days -- IN A ROW. Walk for 10 min everyday, stop drinking, journal, or stop eating takeout. You don't pick a bunch of things -- you pick ONE. 

"Next, choose one activity that if done daily could help you reach your version of a good life. Then I want you to mentally go inside and commit to 100 days in a row. Decide you won't give up until you reach 100, at which point you can decide it had a positive or negative impact on your life, but this time you'll have actual, factual data behind your choices."

So little known fact about me -- I am a list maker and a box checker. I also follow directions very well. I also believe that stuff happens for a reason. Late last week, I'm challenged by a coach to "make writing a priority" and "start building that muscle" and then like the NEXT day, I listen to Lindsay's story about this 100 day practice. Hmmm...

The next #WakeUp100 challenge starts on March 1, tomorrow. I'm committing to writing and sharing that work for 100 days straight. That's the plan -- to write EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.  

I'm not focusing on word count, I'm not going to edit for hours, I'm not limiting topics, I am just going to write - for 100 freaking days. EEK!

Interested? Join the #WakeUp100 challenge  

I hope you'll pop in and read my posts. 

I hope you'll hold me accountable if I drop the ball. 

I hope that something I write over the next 100 days will speak to you, but if it doesn't that's ok too. 

See you tomorrow -- on Day 1

She Writes

In early January, I wrote a really personal piece, a tribute to someone I loved very much. When I was finished, I sent an email to a handful of people that I wanted to share it with. 

It read like this .... 

Hi Everyone, 

I'm not a writer, but I pretend to be sometimes. I wrote this earlier tonight and wanted to share it with all of you.

 

I included my essay and hit send. 

I kept thinking about what I had written because his loss was still so raw.  

The next morning, I saw the printed copy on my desk. 

I immediately thought to myself "Why did you start that email saying you aren't a writer?" 

In a way it made the piece of writing that was really important to me and that I was really proud of seem insignificant. 

"You are a writer. You like to write and some of your stuff is really good."

People tell me they love to read my blog. 

People tell me that I have a way with words. 

People tell me that I should write a book. 

People notice when long periods of time elapse between posts.

People think of me as a writer. 

Maybe it is time for me to rewrite the story where I tell myself I'm not. Maybe it's time to rewrite the story where I say that my work isn't good enough, that writing is a hobby and isn't important or valuable. 

Maybe it's time to own the title "Writer" 

Here we go ......

 

Ordinary Joe

January 3, 2022

I’ve lost several hours today looking at old pictures. I can’t find the one I was looking for, but now I’m not sure it ever existed - I just remember it so vividly because I was there. 

My Uncle Steve died on Dec 28. I’m still, we’re still, wrapping our heads around that. 

Steve, more commonly known as “Joe”, is my dad’s younger brother, his only sibling. They lived at opposite ends of the same road for more than 40 years. Their phone numbers - just digits apart. If you close your eyes and one of them talks – you’d be hard pressed to know if it was Steve or Dave. 

He was my “favorite” - you know if you had a favorite. 

He was there when I needed several trucks to move all my crap to storage when I was getting divorced.

When he caught wind that Storm had died and we needed to bury him in the backyard he told my dad “I have a Dr’s appointment, but as soon as I’m done there I’ll be up with my machine.” And he was. 

You were likely to find him putzing around in dirty jeans, work boots and ALWAYS wearing a hat. In the early days, he’d be smoking a cigar until he quit and the cigars were replaced with a toothpick. It wasn’t uncommon to find him working on a project at the firehouse, the fairgrounds, or here or there. If he couldn’t do it or fix it himself - he knew who could. 

When we were building our new house, he gave me very specific instructions on where a load of gravel was to be dumped when it was delivered. He even marked the spot with a big stake painted with an orange top. I did NOT understand the assignment and had them dump it behind the stake – you know where this is going, right? It was supposed to be in front of the stake - in the driveway. “Heather Bee, now it's in the grass.... I’m going to lose 10% in the lawn.” He said it with a smile, shaking his head. You can better believe I didn’t screw that up the next time it got delivered and ate up the corner of my driveway. I still have the scratches in the pathfinder bumper to prove it!

So back to that picture I was looking for - it was of him, sitting at an old green picnic table, under the apple tree, studying the plans for my new house. It was the day he was going to start digging the foundation. I expected him to pull in, fire up the engine on a machine and start digging a hole. Apparently, it is a little more precise than that. He sat at that table for about an hour, before I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Uncle Steve, is everything ok?”

“Yup, I’m just checking my math” 

Up until then, I hadn’t really given much thought to how smart he was, watching him work on my dream house day after day - with Dad, Stephen, David and even Paul I began to appreciate his knowledge, his skills, and how he made it look so easy.

The hours we all spent together day after day after day – shedding some blood, a few tears and so much sweat - are some of my most precious memories almost 10 years later. 

He loved his country music. The other day I was listening to the radio as I was cleaning the kitchen and Jordan Davis’ current song came on. As I sang along, I immediately thought of him. The lyrics go like this…

Find the one you can't live without

Do what you love but call it work

Send your prayers up and your roots down deep

'Cause the truth about it is

It all goes by real quick

You can't buy happiness

But you can buy dirt

And he could haul it, dump it or spread it for you … all you had to do was ask because he was no ordinary Joe.

Thirty Days of Thanks

 

For years I have posted daily in November my "Thirty Days of Thanks."  This Fall, particularly, October and November, have been a LOT. Sitting down to write daily here on Romanskiville seemed more like a chore than enjoyable. 

I was going to forget about it this year. 

We stay home on Thanksgiving and have a low key, quiet day. This is by design because after Thanksgiving, Paul's hours get ridiculous and it won't be uncommon for him to roll in between 9-10pm. 

We were sitting at the table finishing our linner (lunch and dinner), when Kristen plucked the turkey headband she'd made in Sunday school off the gratitude jar in the middle of the table and said "Put this on and say what you are grateful for." I was here. for. THAT. First she went, then Brooke and Paul. 

"Come on, Mom. It's your turn"  I happily donned the turkey headband and listed a few things. 

As I was cleaning up the table and the kitchen, I kept thinking about the things that I was grateful for .. so, while it wasn't a daily installment, here is the 2021 Thirty Days of Thanks!

#1 - I am thankful that my kids are in school, 5 days a week. 

#2 - I am thankful that Paul's new UPS truck has heat vents that blow on his feet.

#3 - I am thankful for my Noxgear lighted vest for early morning or late night walks/runs. 

#4 - I am thankful to have a baby in the family again and that I am his Aunt.

#5 - I am thankful for my Yeti tumbler and the insane amount of time that it keeps things hot or cold.

#6 - I am thankful for flavored almond milk creamers.

#7 - I am thankful that my friend was not more seriously hurt in a summer cycling accident. 

#8 - I am thankful for the team of physical therapists who helped me "fix my feet." 

# 9 - I am thankful that my parents spent the week in Aruba with us and love our favorite place as much as we do.

#10 - I am thankful for my Apple Watch. 

#11 - I am thankful that our favorite spot for pizza and family dinners out survived being only available for takeout. 

#12 - I am thankful that we, all 4 of us,  survived Covid in February.

#13 - I am thankful that we were all able to be vaccinated. 

#14 - I am thankful for the customers on Paul's route who leave him snacks, drinks, and treat him with kindness.

#15 - I am thankful for my neighbor who so willingly chauffeured Brooke to track practice on her remote days.

#16 - I am thankful for the hibachi chicken fried rice at Mazhu. 

#17 - I am thankful for the neighbors who share carpool to NFA with us. 

#18 - I am thankful that my Mom recovered completely from Covid and that my Dad did not get it. 

#19 - I am thankful that my nephew goes to a high school where they make and sell beautiful seasonal flower arrangements.

#20 - I am thankful for the weeknights that Paul gets home early and we have dinner together. 

#21 - I am thankful for the 4 years I served my community AND that my service is over in 7 days. 

#22 - I am thankful for my Thirty-one business and my loyal customers.

#23 - I am thankful for my Audible subscription and being able to listen to books. 

#24 - I am thankful for my iPhone, it is old and tired, but it keeps showing up for me.

#25 - I am thankful for my friend who even after moving hours away, continues to send the girls their chocolate advent calendars every year. 

#26 - I am thankful for Sunday night bowling with the funniest teammates "that's what she said"

#27 - I am thankful for my friends, 2 particularly, that are always gifting us with food. Kathy and Casey can cook!

#28 - I am thankful for the coaches - business, personal development and speaking, that I have had the privilege to work with this last year. 

#29 - I am thankful for my zero turn lawnmower and the peace it brings when I am mowing. 

#30 - I am thankful for the constant support and belief Paul has for every crazy idea I have. 

Do You Want to Build a Snowman?

 Earlier today, my sister tagged me in post on FB with this invitation. "maybe the girls would like to do this?"

It was almost 4pm when it caught my attention and for a few more days, that is "quitting time." Kristen was sitting at the dining room table, so I called her over and asked her to take a look. 

"Interested?" I asked.

"Sure, I'll do it. Let me go ask Brooke" a minute later she returns and announces "She says if I find her gloves, she'll go." 

We spend a few minutes finding boots, snow pants, hats and gloves. I think to grab a couple of carrots from the bag in the fridge and pluck some plastic berries from my winter arrangement box still sitting on my front porch. We load up into the Pathfinder and make our way there. When we arrive - there are NO other snowmen makers.

"Where do we go?" Brooke says looking concerned. 

"I don't know, I'll just call them and ask" 

I call, a lovely woman answers and she is not prepared for snowman creators. She puts me on hold, goes to speak to the director and comes back. 

"Do you have kids with you?" now she seems concerned. 

"Yes, I do!" 

"Oh that's great" She seems genuinely excited and directs me to the area where the windows are for the main dining room. 

We gather our few materials and off we go. Within a couple of minutes as we are just starting to build the base snowball, they clear a spot in front of the window and roll up woman in a wheelchair. I wave, she waves back and smiles the biggest smile - even under a mask - I knew that she was grinning from ear to ear. 

The director delivers the hot cocoa and cookies that were promised. He thanks us for coming. I tell him that my mother in law was their most dedicated volunteer, EVER. I say that she had been a patient as well. I say we live close and saw the post and it was the perfect excuse to get out and get some fresh air. He asks if he can take a picture when we are done. By now another patient has come to the dining room with her walker and another who has a room near where we are moves to get a better view. We place the berries on top of our snowman's head, collect rocks for the buttons and eyes and place the carrot for the nose. Brooke finds a branch to make the arms. 

When he returns to take the picture he says that he is happy we brought a carrot, the residents were about to send him hunting for one! We chatted for another minute, we took a couple of pictures and then I heard a knock on the window and turned to see the second woman that had joined in to watch applauding our finished product. We grinned from ear to ear, and waved back excitedly. 

We thanked him again for the hot chocolate and cookies and said goodbye. We climbed in the car and started home. I think we were all surprised that we were as happy to make the snowman as the residents were to watch. Brooke looked at the clock and said "we weren't even gone a half an hour"

"I know, that took no time at all and they were SO HAPPY. They have been so isolated, for so long I think it must have been nice to see visitors - even outside.  I had fun doing it, more than I was expecting to!" 

From the backseat, Kristen chimes in "I love old people, they're so cute. We should do this every time it snows the good snowman kinda snow, mom" 

The rest of the night we reminisced about visiting Moses the 2 times she was a patient. The time they remembered a few years ago and they time they didn't when she was recovering from a major surgery. I think Brooke was around 3 and Kristen was in a stroller, I'm not even sure if she was a year old. I would pick them up from daycare and then we'd go visit. We were superstars - the staff loved us, the patients in their chairs in the hall would all perk up when they saw Brooke bopping down the hallway, pigtails swinging, waving "hi" to whoever caught her attention. 

She would have been so proud of them today. I was so proud of them today.

We live in a strange, new world these days. It feels constrictive and isolating and so many things we took for granted aren't options right now.  

You can allow yourself to be swallowed up by it all or choose to find new creative ways to share love, kindness and joy. 

Today, we chose love. I hope when you are faced with a choice, you'll choose love too!