Our Search To Fill A Square Hole

square-peg-round-holeRIP Whirlpool microwave. Yup, our microwave started ailing about 6 months ago when the fan and the light would turn on by itself. In hindsight, it could have been a Poltergeist, but it’s too late now for an exorcism. We decided to put it to sleep. On March 18, 2013 we disconnected our old microwave from its own dedicated life support.


Out of respect to our old friend, we did not rush out and buy a new one. Instead, we let it rest there, in darkness for about a week. But then, it became too painful to look up from the breakfast counter, expecting to see its bright light, telling us the time, only to have a dark black square in front of us. We laid it to rest on the deck until we could figure out who can take it to its final resting place.


Now we had a great big rectangular gap in our hearts — and over the stove — which we needed to fill. Two weeks later we were ready for a new addition to the family, especially after many days of having to wait over five minutes for our food to be lukewarm. We went to Sears and there were so many shiny microwaves sparkling for our attention. The sales person could sense our eagerness and practically put one in our arms. How could we say no? The color was right and 30 inches made the perfect bundle. It even had the same name as our previous microwave…Whirlpool, aaaww! My husband and I looked at each other and at our new appliance and said YES, we’ll take it.


We had to wait a few days. Oh, the agony, now that we knew what it looked like we just could not wait to have it with us. We ran for the phone if it rang or to see if the message light was blinking as soon as we came home. Finally, on a Wednesday, they called to say it was ready. We picked it up right away and gently set it in our dining room so it could acclimate to its new surroundings and because we didn’t have time to install it until the weekend.


We unpacked every little piece and marveled at how many little pieces it had – 10 screws and bolts, and how it smelled! Feeling the weight of our responsibility as new owners, we read every line of the installation manual – twice! We were so caring and methodical I almost felt guilty about our old microwave sitting out there decomposing in the rain.


It was difficult from the very beginning. The holes to hold the new bracket did not coincide with the studs behind the wall. We had to get additional screws. Then, the framing of the cabinet was difficult to measure because of the angle so using the template to mark where the screws would go was challenging. We drilled the holes and then mounted our new microwave. It looked all wrong. This microwave was a bit taller than the old one yet it seemed to overpower our stove. It also jutted out from the wall about an extra two inches – enough to obscure the precious and small cooking area. Still, we tried to make it fit. We drilled more holes, tried once more to make it look like it belonged. It didn’t. We had picked out the wrong microwave.


So, on this rainy afternoon, we drove to Sears to return our new microwave. We were all silent, each reflecting about where we had gone wrong. We admit that we rushed into our decision, not giving enough thought to fit. To fill the void left by an old friend, the next microwave we bring into our family has to be the right size, and also bring the right attitude and feel to our space. It has to play well with our stove, cabinets and tall cooking pots. The new microwave has some big shoes to fill (and by big I mean it has to be smaller in  height and depth).


Our search continues…


Much Love,




The 2am Creative Writing Challenge

cantsleepHi Readers,

I thought I would try something different this week and write a creative piece.

This was the Daily Post Challenge:
It’s 2AM and your phone has just buzzed you awake, filling the room in white-blue LED light. You have a message. It’s a photo. No words, no explanation. Just a photo. Tell us all about it. And what happens next.

My boss is looking at me strangely, like if she suspects that I farted. I don’t know what to say and cannot figure out why the paper I am giving her has begun to buzz. The buzzing gets louder until my brain realizes that this is a dream and that the buzzing is occurring in my external world. I snap up from my pillow realizing that the buzzing is coming from my phone. Across the room, it looks like my cell phone has transformed into a UFO that  is filling the space with an eery white-blue LED light.

Now my heart is pumping so hard it feels  like it is coming out of my chest. Immediately I dread the news of one of my parents suffering from a sudden heart attack, a friend or relative being in a horrible accident, or that someone I know has gone missing. In the seconds it takes me to reach the insistent buzzer, a half-dozen visuals of tragedy have crossed my mind. The buzzing suddenly stops.

“Shit!” It’s from an area code I don’t recognize

“Great! Thanks, asshole.”

It’s 2:11 a.m. so I assume it’s some drunk jerk who after realizing that his buddies or would-be one-night-stands have left him behind, has misdialed my number. Closing my eyes so that my brain does not fully wake up, I feel my way back to bed. I find that spot  under the covers that still traps my body heat. My heart is still pumping vigorously, but I feel my muscles begin to melt into the comfort of my cocoon.


My eyes, pop open and now I’m really mad. “Really!?” It’s just one buzz, so the jerk must have left a message. But, I’m too warm and comfortable to get up. About two minutes pass and then comes another buzz.


I stomp over to the dresser, so furious that I want to throw the phone across the room. I have to get up early tomorrow and don’t need this right now. I see I have a text message and when I open it I am stunned. It’s a photo of a boy. He is looking up at the camera with big brown eyes. He is about 8 years old and he is squatting in the back of a dirty pick-up truck. He is barefoot and has his arms cross over his knees. The boy looks Latino, maybe Mexican or Central American. I don’t know this boy, but mentally I am trying to connect various dots to see if there is logic to the who, the how or the why this boy is looking back at me from my phone. Is this someone’s idea of a joke? I don’t know anyone like this? But, I can’t take my eyes from his face. Something about him looks familiar. The dirt on his face, the angles of his skinny elbows and knees strike a familiar chord. The boy’s haunting eyes are trying to tell me something – so many things that I can’t decipher.

“Who is this?” I reply. The immediate response I expect does not come.

“Who are you trying to reach?” I write minutes later.

Breaking my own rule, I take the phone to bed with me. I bring it into my sacred space of rest and allow it to disrupt my thoughts. I close it only to open it again to see if the boy’s picture is still there.


Much Love

New Inspiring Blogger Nominees!

inspiring-blogger-awardI am delighted to be nominated for the Inspiring Blogger Award by this inspiring blogger of Where Art Thou, the Real Life Search for Mr. Right,  Hollymichele.  Thank you for the honor!! I must admit, it feels pretty great to be nominated for a blogging award and to know that people actually read and even (gasp) enjoy my work!

To be worthy of the nomination, I have to acknowledge the tremendous talent that exists in the field. The rules of this award are follows:

1. Display the logo of the award (check)
2. Link to who nominated me (check)
3. Say seven things about yourself (check)
4. Nominate fifteen other bloggers (check)
5. And in doing said nomination, link over to them (preferably to a specific post for a trackback) (check)

So here it goes, seven things about myself:

1) I’m a fan of PDA, holding hands and kissing, especially

2) I believe that I could have been a good detective or surgeon

3) My intuition is very strong and I have dreams or premonitions of future events

4) My cat centers me and fills me with joy and peace

5) I am the U-turn queen – absolutely no sense of direction

6) My favorite moment after a shower is when I place a dry warm towel to my face

7) The one thing I wish I did more of is sing

I would like to congratulate the nominees and share that your ideas, thoughts and musings give me joy, make me think, or stretch me to imagine something new. Thank you for putting yourselves out there and enriching the world with your words and photos. And the nominees are…

My nominees for the Inspiring Blogger Award (in no particular order):

Artless Poems, Budding Taste Buds

Mostly Bright Ideas, Chew On This

Island Girl Walkabout, One Perfect Day

The Rib

Becoming Cliché, Why did I get out of bed?

River Run Dry, Morning Magic (aka my 4 mile run mile)

Niki1K, March 6, 2013

My Body the City: The Secret Life of a Callgirl


Big Happy Nothing, I’m Not that “Crazy New Person,” I swear!

Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures Blog

Latina Vegan, Why Tesla is My Hero

6 Elevator Pitches for the 21st Century

This So Called Life, This Gluten Free Journey

Adventures and Musings of a Hedwitch


Much Love

The Silver Lining

Everything was going perfectly. I made the train just as it was pulling out of Vienna station towards Washington, DC. Right on time. My mood was upbeat and happy. I was on my way to meet up with friends and celebrate a birthday. I get great satisfaction from a good plan and sure enough, I got to McPherson Square at 11:59 a.m., which gave me 21 minutes to arrive at a meeting point where three of us could sign the birthday card and walk to the restaurant. As I came up the metro escalator I noticed a flower stand. The sign said, “Flowers, $5.” This was not part of the plan, but I had a minute to spare, the flowers looked gorgeous and for $5, how could I resist? 

With my purchase in hand I practically skipped across the street and turned onto 14th Street towards my destination. I took a deep inhale of the pale pink roses‘ bouquet and smiled at the thought of my friend’s surprised face. Since I had never been to the restaurant, I consulted the GPS on my phone to make sure I was headed in the right direction. While I walked, I would glance at my phone to look at the Maps App and to check on time.


I was looking down at my phone when my peripheral vision caught some movement to my left. It was an arm going up and quickly accelerating forward towards me. And then, CRUNCH!!! The roses were blown to pieces by the blow of this disembodied hand. The petals were strewn all over the side walk. One bud remained intact, but it was completed severed from the stalk and it lay helplessly on the cement. It’s weird what goes through one’s mind in these unexpected moments. Oddly, my thought was that I knew the person to whom the arm belonged and that this was a very cruel prank. Then, immediately I ruled out that possibility as none of my friends would do anything like that. Then, came the total disbelief that any other human being would come this close to me to purposely destroy my property. It was then that I looked to the figure that calmly kept walking down the sidewalk. I only saw her back and her pink coat. I yelled out, “Why did you do that!?” She kept walking. I thought about running after her to demand a reason, to seek her apology. But, it dawned on me that this person was in a very dark scary place and my inquiries would only give her the excuse to unleash more of her anger, pain and despair. I felt deep sadness for her as she moved farther away.


I was surrounded by passerbys who kindly wanted to know if I was okay. One of the witnesses told me that just one block back, the same person had pushed another woman.  The victim had fallen down hard on her hands and knees, he told me. I looked down at the petals on the ground, while still holding on to the headless stems.


I kept walking towards my destination. But, my mood had been altered. I was troubled by the entire incident. Should I have called the police and followed the woman? Should I have taken her picture? I also wondered what I could have done to prevent the assault. Had the roses’ beauty and way of inspiring joy provoked the anger and sadness that possessed this woman? Was she under the influence of drugs ? Had her distorted reality made what the flowers represented a menacing threat, or an insult to a deep injury?


Finally, and with great surprise, I realized my good fortune. The flowers had saved me. Somehow that impulse buy took on a different purpose. Unbeknownst to me, the roses were to be my shield from a physical attack –  one that could have been as bad or worse than the one sustained by the woman who was pushed to the ground. Those roses were not meant for my friend. They were for me, from my guardian angels. That humbling thought picked up my mood again. Everything was indeed perfect, I just had to look at the silver lining. I bought another bouquet of flowers for my friend and we enjoyed a wonderful lunch.


This incident reminded me that we are constantly surrounded by light and darkness, good and evil, happiness and sadness, joy and despair. The lesson was to be aware of this duality, wherever I go, but to also choose to see the silver lining in everything.


Much Love,

I’m still adapting to a gluten-free diet and it is difficult. The meal that has suffered the most is breakfast. No toast, oatmeal, cereal, bagel with cream cheese, scones, muffins, cookies, NOTHING! Just coffee…and fruit, which does not really taste that great together. Have you tried dunking a slice of orange in your coffee? Aaack!!! Fortunately, I found this hilarious blog to keep my spirits up. My kitty is not feeling well so look for my regular blog next week. Big thanks to Heather from Becoming Cliche for her wonderful humor. Cheers!

Becoming Cliche

Breakfast has conspired to let me down.

My husband informed me last night as he was putting on his pajamas that we are out of oatmeal. I shrugged. I did think it was a little odd that he was putting on his pajamas to run to the store and buy my oatmeal, but he’s a boy, and boys are weird. So imagine my surprise when I get up this morning and realize he was putting his pajamas on to go to bed! It’s like our whole lives have been a lie.

I didn’t fall apart. Not totally, anyway. After I swept up the box of Cheerios I threw at his head, I remembered my backup plan.

A few weeks ago, my sister-in-law introduced me to an innovative new product called BelVita. I smiled and nodded at first, with no intention of actually eating the things because of this:


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