Tag: baking

Is The Road to Hell Paved with Unassembled Treadmills?

Is The Road to Hell Paved with Unsassembled Treadmills?

I was feeling guilty about my total lack of exercise and decided to remedy the situation. So I bought a new treadmill. Not a massive one, but a very nice portable one I could lift and move at will.

That was six weeks ago. Since heavy is a relative word, last week I called a neighbor to lift it out of the box. Now it sits waiting to be put together, patiently imparting new guilt for me to absorb.

It only needs a few knobs screwed on and a bit of oil so what is taking me so long?

There is no doubt if I focused on the task for five minutes it would be completed.

Five minutes. The time it takes to wonder if I should cheat on my diet or eat a salad.

Five minutes. The time it takes to make the bed and straighten my bedroom.

Five minutes. The time it takes to try and find that last Hershey Nugget lurking in the cupboard somewhere.

Still it sits.  Like some kind of treadmill monster goading me into movement. Challenging me to do the right thing and take it on. Knowing and gloating over the fact I can’t seem to move.

So what’s the problem I ask myself. You enjoy the treadmill once you get on and begin walking. Watching TV makes the time fly by and when you’re done you feel a real sense of accomplishment.

I choose to focus on my good intentions when buying it. After all it was a move to get healthier and feel good.

Isn’t the road to you know where paved with those good intentions.

Yes, I don’t understand that quote either.

Are they saying the road to hell is for people who intend to do good things, but never get around to fulfilling them?

Or is it a warning that if you intend to do something and neglect it, you’re going to hell.

I have a hard time believing that’s the case.

I mean if I go to hell for failing to put the treadmill together will I find myself sitting next to Hitler?

I can’t imagine it will make much sense when he asks why I’m there and I say I procrastinated when I should have put together my treadmill. But I had good intentions.

Hard to make sense of why both of us are at the devil’s table.

So let’s focus on this treadmill guilt thing.

I bought it. I had it delivered from Amazon. I tried in vain to open the box and place it on the floor. No way I could lift it. So am I to be punished for my weakness? I can hardly lift my own purse anymore let alone a treadmill.

Would I like to just hop on over there and screw on those knobs? Sure. Do you see me moving right now? Nope, but in fairness I am writing this blog so I can’t really do two things at once.

I can see it peeking out left of my laptop. I know it’s there. It’s too big to simply ignore. Much like the thingy I bought from Amazon that attaches to your phone or remote and responds to your call. That is still waiting for its batteries to be inserted.

Uh oh. Do you think the Devil is preparing a place setting because I just confessed to that one?

Or will the treadmill be my undoing?

If I said I’d finish putting it together as soon as I write this blog, I’d be lying. There is no way I’m going to give in to my guilt. After all it isn’t hurting anyone just sitting there on the floor quietly minding its own business. At least I bought it. Right? So I’m certain eventually it will be used.

I may have a bit of a problem with the cord that is actually only a foot or so long. Who thought that was practical?

So why am I castigating myself for procrastinating? Is that a mortal sin or simply a human flaw? I don’t think the two are rated equally.

We all have our moments when something sounds good. We buy into it and run with it to the logical conclusion. Yet, is it a sin if the conclusion takes a bit longer?

At this age I find myself saying, “I’ll finish this tomorrow” a great deal.

This is completely ironic since when I was young I moved quickly, and felt there was an entire lifetime to accomplish tasks.

Now when time is so limited I seem to be incredibly cavalier with it.

It doesn’t make sense of course, even to me. Yet I don’t feel the urgency to achieve quickly as I did once.

I don’t believe it’s because we get lazy as we age. Perhaps it’s that we become more selective about how we spend our time.

Is it so bad to spend an extra five minutes finishing a crossword puzzle instead of emptying the dishwasher? To watch a podcast on YouTube before I fold the laundry?

Should I rush out of the house to the drugstore instead of finishing that great documentary on Netflix?

Is it truly procrastination or a new way of looking at how we spend our moments? All things will get done in time, but does the schedule have to be so inflexible now?

The treadmill will be finished and I will hop on eventually. The exercise will commence and will hopefully be beneficial. Yet is there truly harm in deciding what, how and when we wish to proceed when time seems so much more valuable?

Will the road to hell loom before us for deciding to read a book instead of weeding the garden?

I think not. So if the devil is listening, don’t expect me for lunch. I’m busy baking popovers.

Holidays are Happy, Bittersweet Memory-Filled Moments

As a child waiting for the holidays seemed endless. Watching the cooking, cleaning and preparations were always such a thrill. Activity created a kind of ambiance in the home that lingered there like the smell of an apple pie in the oven as it bubbles and browns.

The table would be filled with family and sometimes friends. There was always a cornucopia of great food to eat and enjoy with out anyone monitoring how many helpings of dessert or whipped potatoes you downed.

When I got married and was suddenly the one in charge of the festivities, it became different. Oh of course there was still that vibe of expectancy in the air, but now it was suddenly me who must provide the food and create the holiday. Now a new dimension was added to the soup…stress. Cooking, cleaning, shopping, gift wrapping and counting chairs and table settings gave me something new to focus on beside the previous, “Oh boy Mom’s making my favorite potatoes this year.” And yes in case you noticed, potatoes are a running theme throughout this tome for good reasons.

Most holidays I shared phone conversation and recipes with my friend Marcia as we stuffed the fridge with numerous holiday favorite. These became foods we made year after year and had become as much a part of the ritual as the actual holiday itself.

Yes, it was joyous, happy and laced with the added responsibility of shopping, cooking and all the other tasks involved in preparing a dinner. I embraced it totally and reveled in every moment I spent ensuring a delicious and gut-busting meal was on that table.

The food was a big part of the entire holiday preparation agenda. There were also presents to buy, new clothes, carrying extra chairs up from the basement and reminding my husband ten times to get the good silver down from the top of the closet.

All of these yearly rituals marked the beginning of what was hoped would be a joyous day with family.

And truth be told, no matter how hard one tried it didn’t always turn out as planned. Yet in retrospective all the memories gleaned from these moments are now a priceless photo in the album of one’s life.

Sadly, looking back on past holidays fills one with a sense of bittersweet sadness that can so easily cloud the spirit of the present.

Looking at the present table, although filled with joy at seeing my children and grandchildren, there is a deep sadness that so many chairs are empty now. Yes, this is a part of life that sadly seeps into the holiday spirit. I have learned the only way to ensure a joyous occasion is to focus solely on those who are there and wipe out memories that threaten to impede on any joy.

But is this what we are truly supposed to feel?

Shouldn’t we use a holiday to remember and call up those who are no longer with us? Is this the right moment to unleash memories or should they be saved for another time?

It makes one wonder what is exactly the right balance in these situations.

I myself have had a difficult time. I strive to live in the present and extract every bit of happiness from the moment and then I suddenly find a memory creeping in as I see the brisket or a honey cake the way a favorite aunt made it, or any one of a thousand childhood memories.

I’ve come to the conclusion holidays are the very essence of bittersweet. As we go through our lives everyday the business and demands of our routine often leave little time for reminiscing. Perhaps that is why the holidays allow us to stop and savor the present, albeit tinged with hints of memory perhaps designed to include those now gone. Bittersweet as it is and always will be there is something very special about allowing the past to join us at the table. To fill a seat once more. Not to sadden the present or create new memories, but to ensure the old ones are never forgotten. If there is an afterlife, I would like to believe when they pass the potatoes I’ll be sitting at the table with my family once more and enjoying a second helping as well, with the added benefit of no calories!

For the time being we must accept that those we love still join us at every occasion to be part of the celebration. There is no time limit on loving and missing those who are no longer here. There is only that small ache that seems to appear from time to time to remind us not to forget.

Happy holidays to everyone and enjoy all the happy moments both joyous and bittersweet!

If Only Life Was a Hallmark Movie

Unless you live on Mars, you or someone you know is watching Hallmark Christmas movies right now.

Men, women it doesn’t seem to matter, Hallmark has cornered the market on mushy and sentimental movies. By adding some fake snow, they cornered the Christmas market as well.

No wonder Hallmark starts its Christmas season in July.

Talk about the commercialization of Christmas!

Yet no one seems to mind.

There are of course other channels that run those schmaltzy two-hour tear jerkers, but Hallmark leads in finding the formula viewers will buy.

And formula is the operative word here.

It doesn’t matter to viewers that they are watching the same movie dressed in a new costume every time. They simply rehash the script, add some new Hallmark players as leads and viola. A new movie yeah, but not really.

We are all if nothing else creatures of habit. Hallmark, after selling us those syrupy cards our whole lives, knows what schmaltz we will embrace. And, of course in every Hallmark movie the embrace or Hallmark kiss as I call it, happens, wait for it, only at the end. There is usually an interrupted kiss somewhere along the line.

There is a definite formula that is followed to the letter in each movie. You can set your watch by it. Boy meets girl or now boy meets boy or girl meets girl, they dislike one another, or they click, both versions are available and lead to the same place. They fall in love, they solve a problem which depending on the season could be a pumpkin patch, strawberry field or school play problem. At Christmas there is a Santa Claus with nothing to do in December but help out one of the Hallmark players. So he makes Lacey Chabert or Jen Lilly fall in love with another player like Andrew Walker or Paul Campbell until it all falls apart. There is always a snippet of a conversation overheard and misunderstood, or a secret that should have been disclosed earlier that leads to a break up.

But rest assured all ends happy and the lovers reunite. The world is bright and then the Hallmark kiss at the end seals the deal.

It ain’t Shakespeare, but it sure seems to work.

Perhaps that’s why it does after all. The very fact we can count on every movie to end happy, have a Santa Claus to interfere, (because after all Santa has nowhere else to be at Christmas time), is actually a comfort of sorts. And there’s always holiday baking, tree trimming and a snowball fight to keep things real.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the Royal movies where a prince or princess from some country ending in “ovia” falls in love despite his or her mother being dead set against a commoner in her palace. But of course in the end all is forgiven and crowns are placed on Hallmark stars’ heads.

There is no tension, no nail biting, no fear something is going to jump out and kill someone. Even the mysteries are charming and innocent. A woman, it’s always a woman, takes time out from catering, baking or running her flower shop to track down a killer. There is always a handsome cop to help her so no worries.

Oh sure they have become more inclusive, there is even a Chanukah movie or two with unlimited Yiddish words thrown in for good measure to ensure every base is covered.

So if we’ve seen every movie a thousand times, why do we keep watching? I’d have to vote on the fact it is so predictable that makes it so watchable.

Hallmark has not reinvented the wheel here. The Hallmark players, as I call them, are exactly the same as the contract actors Hollywood collected in the forties and fifties.

Stars were always attached to a major studio until later when they went rogue and became independent agents. Until then they cranked out movies every month or so. Actors like Bogart, June Allyson, Peter Lawford, Elizabeth Taylor, Spencer Tracey and even Gable worked under contract to a major studio. An audience that attended an MGM musical could be certain Ann Miller would be tappy tapping alongside Bobby Van or Bob Fosse and Howard Keel would be belting out songs to leading ladies like Jane Powell or Katherine Grayson.

The familiarity and knowledge there would be no surprises brought audiences back again and again.

So is life like a Hallmark movie? No way and that’s why people watch them.

There is a kind of comfort in knowing that all will end well.

There are even humorous moments that seem to show up in certain Hallmark movies where actors kid one another and act like a family. It’s like the viewer is on the joke so we can laugh along.

Hallmark has latched onto a most seductive formula, certainty, escapism and optimism in an uncertain world.

And let’s not forget the pets. Dogs and cats are big in Hallmark world. Kittens and puppies populate the scene and nothing can lure you in faster than those adorable faces staring at you from a big screen. Lassie has come home on Hallmark.

Familiarity doesn’t breed contempt after all. It breeds viewers, sponsors and big bucks. I’d have to say no way is life like a Hallmark movie. That’s why we must rely on them to deliver us to a place where all is neatly wrapped up in a bow. Then deliver it all to us with a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine of reality go down easier.

Happy New Year everyone. I’m sure if you look you’ll find a Hallmark movie covering that holiday too.