- I am listening
- I recognize discontent
- I feel gently BOLD
Author Archives: Ninasusan
Coffee…hot, lukewarm or cold; keurig or barista…
This afternoon I was pouring the cold dregs out of my coffee mug and looked….really looked…at the coffee stain…. also known as seasoning. Those brown stains are almost like a badge of honor for life-long brew addicts…..or….passionate coffee drinkers. I compare the two types this way – Me…as long as it is very dark and preferably made with my Keurig – Them…while they drink it black, they are probably aware of the difference in single origin vs blends and they probably have experimented with brewing methods as well as the notes and aroma.
I had my first cuppa around the age of 8 while visiting my Aunt and Uncle at their farm. My Aunt filled cups around the table and then asked me if I would like a cup….*wink. My dad grinned and my mother looked aghast and then I said, YES please. My mother did not appreciate the gesture and she believed that under her purview, it was the only time I drank coffee until I was at the age it wouldn’t “stunt my growth”. Maybe it did? Maybe it didn’t?
Here’s the current coffee vessels that live and “take up space” in our cupboard…I don’t discard them but I have been known to leave them behind or had them hide under the seat of my car for an entire season. AND because I have my “favorites”, I will buy them if I see a sale for the same reason some people hoard chocolate or cigarettes and hide them in their underwear drawer.
My husband of 46 years (longevity due to coffee)…. drinks coffee too…in one cup that was picked up at Walmart while on vacation because he forgot his usual cup at home. I’ve included “it” in this picture too. Can you find it? He never asks if ‘I still need this one‘….he knows the answer is obvious…and he just goes along with it as he did with the Cat(s)..
The Opera of Moving in 3 Acts
Change has a way of revealing who we are at our core. Some people thrive on the excitement and possibility it brings, others adapt out of necessity, and some feel deeply unsettled by it. Moving, especially multiple times, takes resilience and courage. It’s not irresponsibility — it’s a willingness to start over, to chase something new, or to follow where life leads. There’s a quiet strength in that kind of adaptability, even if others can’t always see it.
After years of marriage, I began to sense it — the quiet resistance in him. The way he settled into routine. My judgement. 15 years before he had built two houses on an acreage. One for us and one for my parents who purchased the land. After both parents were gone, I felt the need for a transition and asked him to do some remodeling of their house so we could move. Although, ironically, the idea of moving from the home where we made all of our family memories made me sad. It wasn’t until he moved the cats to the new house while I was working, that I recognized the big decision alone needed the tenderness in the meaningful act that made the new surroundings feel like home. My cats!
5 years later, both daughters were creating their own lives and both had moved away from us. The youngest was newly out of college and setting out to find her right place in the world. The oldest had already built a life in a city four hours away and was starting a family of her own. As fate would have it, a business opportunity presented itself there. It felt as though everything was falling into place…..confirming that this was the right move for us.
Ten years later I was filled with gratitude….the absolute joy of watching our grandsons grow. But, even amidst that joy, something was missing. I wasn’t living in the place where my heart felt at ease. I found myself yearning to return to my roots, to familiar places and faces that had shaped my life. The irresistible pull was welcoming a granddaughter….back home.
After much reflection…with emotions filled with agony, we made the decision to move once more…back home.
ACT 3. Everything came together — the move, the search, the finding of a new place to call home. The tears of sadness linger for the love and laughter we left behind, but tucked safely in the corners of my mind are the echoes of a life will-lived.
It’s taken some time to get settled and to find a rhythm. Today, as I prepared a puzzle table and moved lamps around for just the right light, I paused for a moment in gratitude. Grateful to feel free, to feel at home and to know that all is well enough for me to simply sit in the quiet, listening to the familiar tick of the clock and enjoy the quiet solitude. Let the puzzle angst begin!
Until next time….
Honestly don’t know how it happened..on to 47
I posted my yearly anniversary notice on FB yesterday…going through the pics, I tried to select snapshots from several different decades, adventures and weights. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks as I remembered how adventurous and fun our life together has been so far. Obviously I didn’t post the bad time photos or the rage photos because they don’t exist. During those experiences, I don’t even consider picking up the camera/now phone so I can remember what it looked like. Why rehash the emotions of the negativity in our history. There is solace in the awareness that releasing the emotion in those unkind, human moments does not allow them to manifest fear, anger and sometimes hate which can tarnish the memory cache. Everyone else has moved on while I’m still wallowing!
The Facebook notifications from friends overwhelmed me. I’m so aware of the bad rap social media gets these days….but damn, there’s an uplifting to hearing from folks with good wishes and loving emojis. The process gave me an opportunity to mentally and emotionally connect in the moment with friends I see often and friends who live elsewhere. AND just for the record, HE and I spent less time with each other on our anniversary that the old married couple does normally. That was fine too….perhaps the contentment of the years together allowed the personal freedom of a day spent comfortably doing our own thing.
Until next time 😘
Sunday noon at Perkins
Just your typical after church crowd jammed into the lobby of the Perkins Restaurant in Ames this morning. It’s mostly an older crowd who know the drill, searching for an incognito place to stand while waiting for the adorable hostess with a voice like the reverb of a shotgun, to call your name.
The petite older lady (so older than 69) backs up next to “HIM” and starts chatting. (I do not participate in stranger chatter if at all possible). Until I hear “Him” say something about if we could move the heavy cupboards over so she could wedge in beside him. It was a typically kind and innocent comment made by my husband of many years trying to comfort the older lamb who didn’t want to be in the way. I was now on high alert and stifled a full-on Nina laugh.
It was a lovely breakfast of eggs, pancakes and bacon which I devoured while trying to figure out the dynamics of an adjacent table and booth containing 9 people who came in together. I had watched while they had to quickly decide amongst themselves how they were going to self divide so the waitress could distribute menus and get on with it. 6 of them squeezed uncomfortably on two sides of the table and 3 sat in the booth across from them. My brain was entertained with the dynamics and the simple question…. WHY.
Time to leave….as I was heaving myself out of the booth I knocked over my 1/2 glass of water and ice which landed on my ever-patient husband who then had to walk through the throngs of people still waiting to be seated. It wasn’t until we got in the car that I realized my napkin had been dangling from the leg of my skort and he brought it around mentioning his pant legs were wet…we both lost it in fits of giggles.
…and then it all became clear, the table of 9 could feel our vibe in the beginning and only let the strongest 3 of the group sit close to us.
Until next time….
What do you really want to know about the Fatal Accident?
I must give kudos to KCTV5 news in Kansas City for a well written Facebook/News article about a fatal crash that occurred last night. I don’t mean to gloss over the family loss, the trauma or the details in this story! My point is the LACK OF often used over-descriptive words and/or opinions and sensationalism by the writers of this new story and it was very refreshing….”news only the news”
2 killed, 5 injured head-on collision on I-70. Year, make, model of both vehicles described as going opposite directions. Time, date and who responded to the accident. Now deceased driver’s names recorded along with how many passengers in each vehicles were injured.
This is what news reporting used to be…no mention of speculation of what caused the accident other than an obviously opposite/bound vehicles crossed the center median and collided. No mention of impairments. No mention of juicy details, no mention of sexual orientation, no mention of political affiliation.
Thank you for just the facts KCTV-5.
Another loss for Americana
More local radio stations bought out.
For 2 years in the 70/80’s, I closed radio news broadcasts: Nina Brown, KCOB News. Station owner, John Carl, gave me (a total newbie) a shot! I was bitten by the bug at 18 in Missouri at college radio station which interestingly was anagram KOBC. My career at KCOB was short because of low wages and unpaid attendance required for evening school board and city council meetings which didn’t fair well for a brand new mother. Later KCOB’s TC Mason who did morning drive moved to Colorado and Sports Director, Mick Trier moved to the Des Moines radio market. Being a small town local radio station, owner John Carl, allowed an opportunity for several county high school students with dreams of a radio career to serve as interns at the stations. KCOB AM and KLVN FM. One of those interns was Iowa’s own Joel McCrea who was just inducted to the Iowa Broadcasters Hall of Fame.
This story is not just a Newton, Iowa loss but a loss to a way of being…small towns who rely on their radio stations for local news, weather and sports… the important hometown play by play broadcasts for the high school teams. Small town radio stations being bought up by mega media corporations stifles the opportunity for many who dream of their voice being heard in cars, homes and earbuds….and it’s a loss to the way we live our lives giving up to large corporations while pushing out Americana!
On a personal note, a besties’ daughter received her chance and found her dream on the beloved local morning show on KCOB’s sister station KRTI Energy 106.7. I weep for our loss, Sarah!
and so it is…..
The Freedom to speak
I have often been taken aback during a conversation with a friend…or for that matter a casual conversation with a stranger…there can be one phrase that will mentally remove me from the conversation as I attempt to define exactly what was said, often as I slowly open a squeaky window into judgement.
During my childhood years, the words or opinions from my parents were soaked in as gospel…perhaps not the canonical gospel….but the absolute last word on the subject. As I matured into my teen years and young adulthood, I was often taken in by the verbiage of others my age…it was new, fresh and helped me sort my opinions about clothes, cars, social and world events. I have often later ruminated about particular conversations that did not feel comfortable within my belief system. I always have the right to release ties to a relationship.
Now many years later, I recognize that I still put value on my friendships by how we relate in opinions. I feel I give and receive a lot of grace as I accept and often absorb other’s values and opinions because I actually never know when there is something new that will change my perspective.
Fast Forward to this morning in 2024, A discussion about the acronym SRO in a book. “He” asked me what I thought it meant and I said “School Resource Officer” which came from my many years working in the law enforcement community. “He” looked it up to find the definition SRO as “Standing Room Only” which was obviously the context. It’s so much healthier to acknowledge, to learn perspectives from others. There are always going to be contrasts. WE have all lived different moments and built our individual belief systems. Thus the steadfast arguments revolving around abortion, legal euthanasia, race and religion! It’s not my job to agree or change anyones mind, it is my job to allow a difference of opinion in the moment and understand that life lessons will either harden or open the mind to a new way of thinking.
and so it is…..
The good old days when I still had a modicum of respect for the system!
There does not need to be a plan for everything
I have accepted the fact that I have a split personality…which means I plan for every eventuality while moving through life hopping on the “unplanned” train rails.
We recently made a lifestyle change to lease an apartment in another state for a year…it was totally the right choice to make. I recognize that at our age this may appear to be extreme; but falls into the thinking…if I’m not happy should I just continue to wallow or make a different decision and move on? Where I seem to be on the learning curve is to JUST STOP THINKING and not already question the next move forward. I know that the next moment will take care of itself if I listen within. (how often have I been hampered by the ‘learned fear’ of my upbringing vs the freedom of the knowledge that all things will work out when I release my need to control everything).
That being said….We made the decision to make this lifestyle change…okay honestly…we were able to make this lifestyle change because it seemed like each step in our thought process had a question and the solution in the same sentence. My contentment, my sleep, my frame of mind, my happiness is all thanks to the unplanned ‘riding the rails’ mode of travel. But my fear of the unknown voice pops in too often ..what happens when the year is up, what if I want to stay, are we wasting money, is this “right” decision actually a “wrong” decision…..and why do I think I must have a judge and jury outside of myself to decide the verdict.
Over the last 16 years, this blog has taken me from the depths of despair to where I am at this train depot. This is me actually ‘putting it down on paper’ which helps me work through it…similar to #JuliaCameron #morningpages in #TheArtist’sWay.
For this moment, I just am!
Ninasusan 