The List - Eat the Frog

For most of my formative years I was a disorganized procrastinator. Nothing really tragic happened - but enough "oh no!" moments - like carrying the American Express bill around in my purse for a month so when Joe went to buy me a birthday present - they took the card. I'm sure I caused some awkward moments for my kids, as well, with missed permission slips, forgetting the day of class pictures and others that I'm sure they'd love to share.


When I started working I thought I could carry all my deadlines and duties around in my head, and for a while it worked. As my responsibilities grew and I became more involved in the community, I knew the mental calendar was going to lead to disaster - not being where I needed to be or missing an important deadline does not lead to success in business.


Knowing I had to do something ,and being a non-techie ,I started a practice which worked for me. Every night before I left work I wrote a list of all the things I needed to do the next day. I placed it front and center on my desk so it was the first thing I saw in the morning. As I completed items on the list I'd cross them off with the fattest magic marker I could find. Most days, other things came up and not all the items were completed, but every time I made a slash with that marker, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I found that the least pleasant tasks often made it to the list for days on end and sometimes spilled over to the next week.


One day in the nineties I attended a seminar . The speaker talked about lists like mine - but with one difference. He called it "Eat the Frog". I can't remember the guy's name or even where the seminar was, but I don't want to take credit for someone else's idea. It is so simple:


Say you have a list of things to do today and one of them is to eat a frog. Instead of putting it at the bottom of the list, eat the frog first. Everything else you do that day will seem like a piece of cake. I started using that method and it made an incredible difference in my work and home life.


I promised myself that I'd continue to use the lists in retirement and for the most part I have. I stopped altogether on my recent trip out west. As a result, I probably wasted more time on the computer and just wandering around than I have in years. I was even less diligent with the crossword puzzle. Now I'm back home and back on track with the lists. I think they may be more important to me now that I have total freedom to use my time as I wish. There is nothing earth shattering on my lists but what's there keeps me focused and prevents wasting precious time. I finished today's list by 3:30 - so I rewarded myself by sitting in a chair watching Jeopardy. Here's tomorrow's list:

• Finish cleaning out bookcase
• Make Dr. appointments
• Call Lorraine and Elba
• Write 2 thank you notes
• Defrost salmon
• Go to the beach with my book

No frogs on this list - but I'll sure enjoy the beach a lot more if I do the other things first.

Things I learned in Girl Scout Camp

"Make new friends....

but kee-eep the-ee o- oold...

One is silver.....

And the other gold"

Anyone who went to Girl Scout Camp learned to sing this in a "round" - how many of you know what a round is? How true, how true. I love my new friends - circa past 1990ish when I was 50 - but the old ones are truly gold.

I stay in touch with Diane and Pat and Jane and Pete and a few others from the 40s. Not a grammar school or high school secret we didn't share. We critiqued each others boyfriends, clothes, shoes, and rejoiced in each other's good times. Commiserated about family woes - big and small. At our 50th high school reunion we laughed and cried and wet our pants - just like in the 40s and 50s.

In the 5os and 60s it was Sue Mac and Sue S.. We were roommates. I dated their boyfriends' fraternity brothers until another classmate introduced me to my (future) husband and then we all became friends. I stood up for Sue S. at her wedding to Bill - sure I was going to hell as a Catholic participating in a Protestant wedding. Their marriage has lasted as long as ours - and although we've adhered to our vows to each other - the churches have vacillated in their beliefs. Mac now has awesome kids and grandchildren whom I don't "know" but could give you their bragging points.

This weekend we shared our 3rd annual "roommates weekend" and picked up where we left off in college. Now we worry about each others' health - not our sorority's codes of conduct - or having each others' backs for curfew in our orange blossom scented, no men allowed inside, housemother watching the making out in front of the dorm life where we cooked soup on our irons, taught each other how to use tampons during a fire drill = and watched Kitty Kelley - yes, that one - try to learn the newest dances in the halls with big rollers in her hair.

In the 70s it was my Chicago beach and River Forest friends. Only a few if them left, but so cherished, especially Marcia and Diana and Joe, Carolyn and Gerri. I think they are considered new. Same with my work friends - great teammates and supporters. Thanks, CarolAnn, Jackie, Susan, Glenda, from the bank, and Joan, Juan and Gladys, Carmen and Angelo, Marty, Fran, and Virginia, and Mila, from our business community - and those others who know who they are. I still have good contact with my earlier work friends, Jill, Jeanne, Phyllis and Karen. All partners in crime at one point or another. Lately, I connect with Martha, Joan, Bonnie and Dan.

I have made a concerted effort to reach out to those who have meant the most to me. This week it is my University of Arizona friends who have entertained us, hugged us, and fed us. We have enjoyed each others' company and shared secrets (once again). One of them had a medical scare ( she is fine) AND it made us all assess our treasures - which surely include old friends.

Silver and Gold. CHERISH.

Mothers' Day - Hallmark Is Clueless.

Every day is Mothers' Day. That is the truth. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of my children. I worry about their health. I want them to be happy. I want them to be financially secure. I want them to be content in their own skins. I want them to think I did a good job as a mother. I hope they will.

Forget all the Mothers' Day cards with the smarmy greetings. The reality is more than Hallmark can handle. Today I watched a pair of mourning doves start to build a nest in the eaves of my Tucson home. They took such care to fashion the nest with just the right leaves, twigs and fallen oleander blossoms. They shied away , but leaned in protectively, when I aimed my camera at their chosen location for a home.

I lean back, watching them, and remember my first nest. A Quonset hut in veterans' housing on the campus of the University of Arizona. 33 Polo Village. ( It was built around an old polo field). $33.00 a month rent, including utilities. No credit cards, no TV, no checking account, no washing machine or telephone. Just lots of love and two dogs - one our own and one we - "adopted" from my father -in law when he re-married and Spooky couldn't adjust. We had no phone, so I had to call my parents from a pay phone in the middle of the complex to tell them that I was pregnant - about 9 months and one day from my wedding date. I hated being so far away from my New Jersey family, but loved my new married life as the wife of a student and veteran who worked his butt off for us.

We were all too young to be having babies, but the women of the '50s had motherhood as a goal and why would I buck that trend? In April of 1962 I had my first child, Colleen, after 24 hours of labor with a husband who sat in the room studying for college exams. and a doctor who told me he'd be there when he finished his cocktail at the El Corral Steak House. The doctor was someone who believed in "anaesthesia" - so I was deprived of the full experience, and was out of it for days. I do remember thinking Colleen was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen . I also thought the same thing the next 5 times I gave birth.

Nothing - not lack of money, lack of genetic proof of "defects", not lack of optimism in the future stopped us from building and populating our nest. I hope our pair of mourning doves follows our example. They will not be sorry.

Thank you Colleen, Kevin, Jody, Terry, Kelly and Jacky. I am so glad I built my nests.

Enjoy your own. You've populated them with beautiful people. The future is looking good to me.