When it comes to food storage, I’m a tosser. I’m vigilant about ferreting out food items that are past their prime, and I only save leftovers that are likely to be eaten. Thus, the space-hogging cups of blue jello that Caitlin made last week that remain untouched in our fridge – GONE in my clean sweep from last night!

I believe this is an inherited trait from my maternal side. As I think back to forays inside my mother’s fridge and my mother’s mother’s fridge, I recall easy navigation among the relatively few, but always good, foodstuffs.

In Peek Inside Elaine’s Fridge, a post from nearly two years ago (!), I chronicled the contents of my fridge and noted some differences between tossers and keepers (those folks who have overflowing refrigerators and throw out items only duress).

I was reminded of these musings when I recently read about a new gadget that could help with my vigilance: a digital day counter that attaches to food and monitors the number of days it resides in the recesses of your refrigerator or freezers.

My inner tosser is delighted!

At $4 a timer, I won’t go crazy, but I am ordering a few of these today. Other uses for the gadget? On plants (”Hmmm, when did I last water that  plant?”), furnace filters, bottles of wine, Toby’s heart worm pill, just to name a few.

The icing on the cake (still fresh, of course)? The DaysAgo counter was “born” when two Wise Women had a Eureka moment. The new moms were taking a break from their brainstorming session about business ventures to feed their babies and couldn’t remember which of the many jars of opened baby foods were still OK to use. Talk about necessity being the mother of invention (and good timing!)

Don’t you just love new gadgets? It reminds me of the excitement generated when there’s a cool, new app for a phone or handheld device. Of course, I don’t know how to use most apps, so I’ll just be enthused about the brilliantly simple DaysAgo counter.

What gadgets do other Wise Women use?

Last night, I engaged in my bi-weekly ritual of motoring through the house and announcing in a purposeful voice, “Carmen’s coming tomorrow.” Everyone in the household understands that this is their cue to clean their rooms before they go to bed (i.e., remove all items from the floor, shove into any available closet or drawer space, and close the door/drawer tight.)

After 20 years of having a cleaning lady, I have made peace with the paradoxical yet timeless tradition of “cleaning for the cleaning lady;” my family members, not so much. Although, to their credit, while they may still grumble, they no longer require my nagging to cooperate, nor do they continue to demand an explanation of why exactly they must do the job that the cleaning lady is hired to do the very next day.

I am absolutely clear that our family has an unequivocal NEED to employ outside assistance to keep the house clean. During budget belt-tightening times, this expense has been and will be among the last to go. I learned that it’s a lot cheaper to pay a house cleaner a couple hundred bucks each month than to write weekly checks to a marriage (or family) therapist. Plus, not only is there family peace, I get the pleasure of walking into a completely clean house (it even smells clean!) on a somewhat regular basis – it never fails to thrill me.

For the last four years, 65-year old Carmen has been our cleaning lady. When she arrives every other Tuesday morning, we catch up on each other’s lives during 15-minute chats. I hear about her son’s adopting a child … her enthusiastic attendance at her grand kids’ soccer games … her menu for Christmas dinner. She gives me advice on allowing teen-aged children freedom (but not too much) and asks about the health of various family members.

My only complaint about this arrangement – which isn’t even fair – is that I feel guilty when I have to dash out the door before Carmen arrives. It feels rude to forgo my chat with this woman who clearly enjoys the limited social contact she gets at her job. It seems wrong to not indulge in chit-chat with the woman whom I’m expecting to clean the scum out of the sink and notice the cobwebs around my lights.

Anyone else feel occasionally trapped by a chatty housekeeper? Other stories (good or bad) about those women and men who help keep us Wise Women sane and our houses clean?

Here’s the latest (and for now final) update on the back-and-forth with my neighbor about the humongous tree on their property that is at-risk of falling on our house.

After a Saturday morning walk with a wise friend who gave me good advice and a shot in the arm of courage, I call over to my neighbor’s house and “Bob” answers.

Elaine (as friendly-sounding as possible): Bob? Hi! This is Elaine, your neighbor.

Bob (in an unenthused monotone): Hello.

Elaine: Bob, are you and “Sally” free tomorrow morning around 11? I was wondering if you could come over for coffee so we can talk about the tree.

Bob: Are we around tomorrow morning around 11 am? (I hesitate because I don’t know why he’s repeating back my question. Then I realize he’s repeating it so his wife Sally – who must be close by – can hear the question and indicate her response to him.)

Bob: Yes, we’re around tomorrow morning.

Pause. I wonder was that an acceptance of the invitation for coffee or not. Clearly, I’m going to have to work harder to nail this down.

Elaine: So, does that mean you and Sally can come over for coffee at 11 am?

Bob: Can we go over for coffee? (Now, I’m on to the fact that Bob does not have a disorder that causes him to repeat things; he just needs Sally’s sign-off.)

Pause. I remain quiet. Pause continues. Finally …

Bob: Yes, we can come over.

Elaine: Great! (said with great animation and none of the frustration/anger I feel at this point.) See you tomorrow!

I go find my husband who’s watching some movie on cable for the zillionth time. I ask him to mute the TV and then, once there is silence, start crying. I sniffle and snort about the neighbors’ lack of responsiveness and apparent unwillingness to deal with this tree issue. “Clearly, our neighbors are a**holes who don’t care that their damn tree is going to kill my kids.” I conclude it’s a lost cause even before we have the conversation.

Coffee with the Neighbors

It’s 11:01 am on Sunday morning and Sally and Bob knock on the front door. (I had already figured out that I would give them until 11:30 before calling to remind them about coffee. I also worked up Plans C, D, and E for other non-cooperative behavior they might display.)

I pour coffee and bring out a plate of bagels. We start chatting about our respective lawns. After five minutes of small talk, Sally brings up the tree.

And … we end up having the nicest, most civilized neighborly conversation. Turns out that tree is one of Sally’s favorites, and she hopes there might be options for saving it. She wants to call another arborist for a second opinion. Bob wonders whether, if the tree must be removed, others could remove it for less than the quoted price of $4,000. All good questions to explore, I think. Then, Sally says the magic words that melt my resentment away: “Of course, safety is paramount. I couldn’t live with myself if that tree fell on to your kids’ bedrooms.”

Lessons Learned

I learned that Bob always speaks in a monotone, even when talking about his favorite football team. He’s just that type of guy.

I learned (or, was reminded) that 99% of life’s drama results NOT from actual conversations, but from the imagined conversations I have in my head.

I learned that, if something’s important to me, I have to chill out when others do not share that priority and just accept that it’s up to me to take steps to make something happen.

I learned that it’s not good fences, but good communication that makes good neighbors.

There’s a mammoth, rotting tree in our neighbor’s yard that could easily crush our house with the next strong wind. An arborist has warned us, not once, but twice, about the danger and urged its immediate removal. As I described in yesterday’s post, I shared this news with our neighbor via email in late July.

Neither the neighbor nor I made mention of the tree (nor the whopping $4,000 price tag to remove it) for the next 21 days. Over that period, I spent a good chunk of my awake time angsting about how/when to broach the subject of the tree again. (As my husband pointed out, I was investing WAY too much emotional energy in this dilemma.)

On Day 22, a 5 am thunderstorm jolted me awake and terrifying thoughts of tumbling trees kept me awake. I decided to take the bull by the horn (or tree by the limb) and attempt to restart the conversation.

Elaine’s Re-engaging Email

If good fences make good neighbors, what does a 150-foot, at-risk tree do to neighbor relations? Let’s follow the email trail and find out …

Initial Salvo Sent From Elaine to “Sally” in late July

Hi, “Sally” -

We had a tree company come over the weekend to give us an estimate on tree work that needs to be done in our yard. We used them 6 years ago, too. At that time, the tree guy expressed concern about the poplar tree with the split trunk that’s in your back yard. He indicated it was just a matter of time before it toppled and, given its size, did a lot of damage to whatever it hit. We told “Joe” (who was in the house at the time), but he kind of blew it off.

The tree guy has increased his concern about the tree’s stability, saying that the split between the two trunks has increased and the root system is weak. He recommends removing it ASAP. There’s another, less expensive option of cabling it, but my understanding is that would just postpone the inevitable.

Given that, if/when the tree goes down, it would likely fall in the direction of the bedrooms of our two kids, we are motivated to help remove the tree. We would be willing to help out with the cost to remove the tree, if needed.

I’m going to put a copy of the tree guy’s estimate in your mailbox for you and your husband to review. I know he would be happy to discuss this with you, too, and his number is (222) 123-1234.

I’ll call over to your house and see if we can chat about this more in person over the weekend. Thanks, “Sally.” I guess this is one of the “joys” of living in a neighborhood with mature trees. Sigh.

Best, Elaine

Neighbor’s Response

I have forwarded your message to my husband. I do have some concerns but I feel there is a way we can come to a reasonable solution. Husband’s email addendum:  I am on a business trip right now. Can we discuss over the weekend when I get back?

Elaine’s Response to the Neighbor’s Response

No rush … definitely it’s a conversation for the weekend when we’re all around.

Thanks, Elaine

Two Important Contextual Notes for Wise Women to Know

1. The cost of removing the tree is $4,000. (Sadly, you read that amount correctly; there is no extra “0″ included inadvertently.)
2. About 90% of communication between neighbors in our neck of the woods occurs via email. Over the last year since they moved in, I have had one in-person chat with this neighbor plus about a dozen email exchanges ranging from information-sharing to school fundraising solicitations to expressions of concern when our dog ran away.

Next Chapter

Tune in tomorrow to discover how I handled the deafening silence that followed over the next three weekends.

While channel surfing last week, I stumbled across MTV’s show Teen Cribs, a showcase for overly indulged teens, their toys, and their palatial digs. I’ll confess to having a sick fascination with the show. I even devoted 90 minutes over the weekend to the episode detailing the top 15 cribs. (My only defense was that I was sick in bed and it was either that or witness Tiger Woods blow his lead in the PGA tourney.)

If you don’t have an hour and half to waste invest in the full episode, just watch the promo for the Fab 15 Countdown; it’s the first minute of video, after the initial mini-commercial. And be ready to catch your jaw as it drops. As the promo teases, “We’re not talking run-of-the-mill McMansions here.”

When we camped last week in Harrison, Maine, we set up our little tent.  While I don’t typically camp more than once a year or so, I have camped most of my life – almost on an annual basis – always in tents, with not too many accoutrements. 

We were one of a very few tents at this campground.  Everyone looked quite settled.  Family name signs hung on the trees.  The O’Briens were to our right.  The Smiths just across the dirt path.  This was camper land.  Flowers were planted, hammocks were hung, porch swings were swinging, docks extended into the lake and decks had been constructed.  Full-gas grills were set up (almost all cooking burgers and dogs).  Lounge chairs and camping chairs surrounded the campfire area.  We even spotted some satellite dishes.  What we learned as the weekend transpired was that many of the “campers” called this their summer home.  Most locals – living minutes to an hour away, summered on Crystal Lake.  They paid roughly $3,500 for the season, and essentially plunked down their camper, permanently.  These folks have certainly figured out a way to bring most of the comforts of home to the great outdoors.

I found this all quite fascinating.  Another comical element was the fact that the campground we stayed at was celebrating Christmas in July last weekend.  Many campers were decorated with colorful Christmas lights.  Christmas trees were set up outside.  Inflatable snowmen and Grinchs could be seen in places.  Some campers were really decked out – all I could think of was the campground electrical bill after this theme weekend was over.  Kids could build ginger bread houses at 11AM; Santa was visiting and passing out gifts at 2:00 (much to the dismay of the boys, we missed these events since we were visiting their big sister at camp). 

My first thought about all of this was this whole scene was maybe just a little hokey – but I quickly changed course thinking that these “permanent” campers have got it all figured out.  Other than having to deal with new neighbors (like us) on a regular basis – in fairly close proximity – these folks have discovered how to create their own little paradise. 

As I was sitting outside of my tent last Sunday morning on the edge of the lake, sipping a cup of coffee, listening to the loons, it was so peaceful – and far from shabby.

I had a most unusual experience this week. Yet, a few decades ago, it would not been unusual at all.

I was calling roofing companies to arrange for estimates to replace the wood trim under our roof. (In doing so, I learned a new word: soffit. Who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks. Woof!)

After making an appointment with Company #1, I called the next business on the list. I knew the drill and was ready to answer the universal questions. Name. Address. Type of house. Year house was built. Yadayadayada.

Then the woman on the other end threw me a curveball with her well-rehearsed line about it was Company #2’s policy to schedule visits when all the “decision-makers” in the household could be available to consult about color, style, blah, blah and was I the only decision-maker? Taken aback, yet confident that no one else in my household gives a flying fig about replacing the soffit, I replied yes. Here’s what followed:

“Are you the sole home owner?”

“No, I co-own the house with my husband.”

“What’s your husband’s name?”

“Mike.”

“When would Mike be available to join you for the appointment?”

Woah, stop everything! Is she saying what I think she’s saying? That Company #2 will only do business with me if MY HUSBAND is involved? Are you freaking kidding me?!?!?

I ended the phone call quickly after objecting (albeit politely – it wasn’t this poor woman’s fault) to Company #2’s “approach” to business. To top it off, the next day Company #2’s manager contacted me at work to innocently “inquire about my unfinished file.” After I briefly recapped the reason, he attempted to explain the rationale behind the practice of having all decision-makers present. Again, I quickly ended the call. (OK, this time a little less politely.)

Do you really think that, if my husband called for an appointment, they would have insisted that I, his wife, be there to help with “decision-making.” Uh, I don’t think so.

This was my first experience with such blatant sexism. I experienced a real sense of powerlessness and anger, even with this low-stakes scenario of stumbling in my efforts to replace the soffit. Imagine if I was thwarted or denied when trying to secure credit, rent or buy my own home, or land a new job. I immediately thought of and had empathy for the Wise Women who routinely faced this dehumanizing attitude not so long ago.

Anyone else run up against something like this?

Coming off of Wednesday’s blog – A Brand New Day – I’ll have to share how my sister spent her 41st birthday last Saturday. This year she has vowed to take things more slowly, breathe in, and enjoy every moment – or at least a good number of them. This is one example of how she is executing her mission.

So together with her daughters and her two neighbors and their kids (because it’s always Better When We’re Together), they embarked on an afternoon project of creating an Easter Egg tree.  They blew out the eggs – first using an exacto knife to crack a small hole in each end, then stuck a thin piece of wire (or paperclip) in to break up the yolk.

Following Martha Stewart’s lead on how to decoupage the eggs (click here for directions) – they all created beautiful eggs to hang on their Easter Egg Tree of forsythia branches – just starting to bloom.  So a delightful afternoon was had by all – a beautiful decoration created for Easter, and fun family and friend time spent together. 

It’s only February, but I hear the birds chirping when I leave my house in the morning, there’s light outside when I leave the office at the end of the day, I’m getting a hankering to get a dumpster and clean-out my basement, I’m plotting which area of my yard to dig up to have a  more prosperous garden (for those heirloom tomatoes and giant pumpkins I’ve already ordered), and, finally, I’ve fallen in love with a few wall art websites that are making me want to redecorate a child’s room, a family room or make my office a bit more fun and funky. These sites and their products are very cool!  And just perfect for the person who lacks the time and creativity to create this art on their own.

When you have a few moments, browse the following wall art decal sites:

1.  What is Blik

2.  Wall-Pops

3.  Wallies

4.  Beautifulmurals.com

Wall-Pops is my favorite.  They have a line called Zoo-Wallogy, which has the most adorable animal decals.  If you go to beautifulmurals.com, they carry the Wall-Pops decals, and they are all on sale.

I also love a grandfather clock decal from whatisblik.com.  This would be very fun in an office or a finished basement.  You place a simple clock in the face of the grandfather clock decal, and voila, you have something to take notice of.  Take a few moments to browse.  I’m sure you’ll have fun and be inspired to cheer up a room in your house!