Five Years a Writer

The pandemic pounds I have gained make me grateful for having been lazy in sorting through my closet. With a bit of extra weight on my frame, I am glad for the extra few inches of waistband my (formerly too large) summer capris are giving me.  I think quite a lot about clothes. Not because I enjoy shopping for them; indeed, the very opposite. I have written before  about how much I loathe clothes shopping: So many options on the racks and so few viable choices for me.   I want comfort and common sense, natural fibres and classic lines. No plunging neck lines, short hem lines or narrow pant legs for me. My body is made for living and moving, so I need my clothes to fit my form. I have no interest in stuffing or cinching myself into a piece of clothing or having it expose more of me than it does cover. Some women might want that; fine. I do not.  But some women have no choice in the matter. Have you followed the brouhaha about the Norwegian beach handball uniform cont...

The corporate top-performer cruise was not unfolding brilliantly, as the weather was cool and the seas were rough. Nonetheless, the evening event had been very successful and the next day’s business meeting had started on time, but it went side-ways during the coffee break. The servers simply couldn’t keep up with the (hung-over) participants’ need for the hot beverage. An executive member complained to management and then shared a lesson with us that I have remembered to this day. He said, It doesn’t matter how great yesterday’s event was, if today’s event is sub-par for whatever reason, yesterday’s success is obliterated by today’s relative disaster. While a cruise line not serving coffee fast enough ranks hardly even as a first-world problem, the lesson taken from it can be applied universally, I think: One’s good-performance credit margin is a fickle measure of success on which only the foolhardy rely.  To wit, our recent experience with a local vet clinic.  A while back, ...