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 Love about Chicago - and Missed Most While in Tucson

• The lake - if you don't know what lake I mean............ never mind. The best sun rises and moon rises of our lives.
  
  
  
  
  
• Millennium Park - it is always teeming with people, yet it is a good place to lose yourself
  
  
  
• The weather - if you don't like it, wait 20 minutes and it'll change - spectacular lightning shows over the lake- never boring.
  
  
  



• The Lincoln Park Zoo - I can spend hours wandering and wondering
  






• The CTA - I love the freedom of not needing a car
  



• Ethnic food - you name it, we've got it - and we've probably got a neighborhood named to identify it - as Greek Town, Paseo Boriqua, China Town, Little Italy - ad infinitum
  
  







• Chicago's Farmers Markets - I went to the one in Tucson - but somehow tomatoes are only tomatoes here and back east

• The Chicago Cultural Center - this should be every one's first stop when they visit.





• Navy Pier - Shakespeare Theater, the Beer Garden, the Ferris Wheel and those yummy sweet and salty nuts - Bloody Marys and bagels and the newspaper on Sunday mornings before the tourists get there - what's not to love?
  
  
  
• Our home - just enough space - to have company or to be alone. Floor to ceiling views, the sundeck for coffee, sunning, reading or cocktail hour. We can lock it up and leave town AND somebody else cuts the grass, shovels the snow and worries about the roof and the plumbing. We're a train ride away from 3 of our kids. Come on down and visit- we're a three minute walk to the Oak Street Beach.
  
  

Things I love about Tucson

• It's not Phoenix - If I have to explain that to you....never mind!

• Sabino Canyon - Nature's refuge a short walk away
• No pot holes - thought our car was running smoother - just no Chicago pot holes
• U of A -still love visiting the campus and cheering for the 'Cats.
• Mountains all around - Santa Catalinas, Rincons, Santa Rita, Tucson Mountain ranges
  
  
• Mexican Food - Karichimaka, El Minuto, Paco and Mom - ad infinitum
  
• Eileen's of Tucson - made in the USA clothing that fits the not so skinny girl

• San Xavier Mission - historical yet in use by the Tahono O'Odham tribe for school and church
• De Grazia Studio - an artist's home and studio that captures the culture and history of Native American life. A great story. http://www.degrazia.org/
  
• Our home - a natural setting with plenty of wildlife and almost no "Wild Life". All that's missing are our kids and the CTA.
  
  

Sports, Friends, Connections, Heroes

College Softball: I am sitting in the 107 degree heat in Tucson watching the U of A girls softball team (on TV) playing UCLA (Boo-Hiss) for the world series of college softball. I love the coach Mike Candrea - he has such a visible respect for his players and they respond well to him. No nonsense discipline and solid coaching help these young ladies succeed in softball as well as life. He (and the other college coaches) should probably hire a fitness coach to ward off big butts, bellies and other signs of unhealthy physical profiles. Seems I remember when my girls played softball, they were in much better physical shape with bodies that looked as good in prom gowns as in sports uniforms.

NFL Hockey: I admit it. I love John Mc Donough. My husband is aware of this affair. We both loved John when he was with the Chicago Sting (soccer) and I was the Marketing Director at Pioneer Bank. We have a picture of our daughter Kelly with Pato Majetic in the bank lobby. We watched the S L O W games at the old Cominsky Park and the amazingly fast ones at the Chicago Stadium (indoors). We discovered WeissBier at the Weinkeller after those games.

We loved what he did with the Chicago Cubs and how he made Wrigley Field even more of a destination than it already was. He remained a modest gentleman. I was sad when he left the Cubs to go to the Black Hawks = but Ohhhhh =- what a success story. Butts in the seats is what it's all about and John does that best. He delivered . He addressed our U of A alumni association in Chicago and I was proud to be one if his friends and to be there with him.He's a real class act. I hope Rocky Wirtz gives him a lifetime contract. He deserves it. AND - try and find some "dirt" on him. It doesn't appear to exist. Love you, John.

Back to the Chicago Black Hawks. We have grandsons who are in love with hockey and who will watch the finals with great interest. Back in the day when we were NY Rangers fans, the games ended in April . There were only 6 teams and we breathed it all. Now, I'm glad my kids' kids have adapted to the longer season. I don't breathe it, but I am rooting for the Hawks, the Lady Wildcats and the decent people in sports, like John Mc Donough and Mike Candrea.

As a finale. I want to salute the young father who spent most of his day off today teaching his 6 year old to swim our lap pool. He encouraged, he demonstrated, he asked his son to respect those of us at the pool who were reading. He is a professor at the U of A and the son-in law of one of our neighbors. He was teaching his son swimming, familial loyalty, community manners and social graces. I love him as well. Mas abrazos amigo. We need more heroes like these guys.

FIND YOURSELF SOME HEROES.

Too Much Peace and Quiet?

I wake up when I want to, usually before 7:00 AM. If Joe is climbing the canyon I go for the newspapers. If he's not, he's already gotten them. I sit on the patio drinking my smoothie - 3 strawberries, 1/3 banana, skim milk and a handful of baby spinach ( thank you Colleen for that hint.) I watch the momma quail march her babies past our patio and listen to the coo-coo-ca-roo of las palomas in our trees.

I plan my day. I will go and walk on the treadmill this morning and then spend an hour at the small pool. I read a book. I exchange pleasantries with my neighbors who are passing by. I come home and check Facebook and my E-Mail. Not much there. I check my calendar to see what birthday cards need to be sent. I skim the newspapers and omit the political commentary. I avoid the TV until Jeopardy comes on at 4:30. I get a lot of the answers, but a few seconds too late. I spend an hour with my latest book.

At 6:00 we start cocktail hour. We started at 6:00 because that's when Seinfeld comes on at home. We don't have a clue when he's on here - but we stick to 6:00. We do it on the patio, not in front of the TV.

I love our view of the stars and the moon (full tonight). I love the silence and the freedom of the javelinas and coyotes and rabbits to roam our community without fear. I'm still pretty damn ticked off about the palm tree murders, but all in all we have a great piece of paradise.

I visited my Aunt Caro yesterday. This required me to drive down off our mountain into the city. Because school is out and the snowbirds have gone away the traffic was not bad and I didn't hyperventilate on the way down Sabino Canyon Road. We had a great lunch together and laughed our "you know whats" off as usual. I saw 3 bunnies, a roadrunner, a dust devil racing across Broadway and a gazillion lisards on my drive home. I chose to ignore the strip malls, big box stores and empty storefronts. Nothing provoked a rant on my blog.

Late this morning I saw a turkey vulture in our tree before I went to do my water weight lifting exercises and take my walk around the community. Its wing span was bigger than my car.

What's the point of this post? Too much peace and quiet must be bad for my writing. Until I return to Chicago and the sirens, idiots hitting the wall at the Oak Street curve, gangbangers at the North Avenue Beach and the @#$@*&^% politicians of Illinois, my posts will be pretty boring - so maybe you should tune out. I know there are plenty of politics going on here, but in our little foothills haven we can tune them out. Wherever you are, try to do the same thing and take a break from the insanity. Tomorrow I am going to Sabino Dam at dawn to watch biologists banding hummingbirds ( which by the way, love our patio).

I know when I get home and start walking around the city again and go to City Council meetings and the like, I'll find lots of things to love and hate. I could never leave Chicago for good. In the meantime, I'm waiting for something to really tick me off! Then maybe my blog will be worth reading.

It's Official - I'm a Tree Hugger

I think it started in kindergarten when some nasty little boy spilled ink all over my beautiful coloring of the mimeographed tree outline that represented spring in our, anything but artistic , art period at St. Pats. God forbid we should ever go outside the lines. I cried when my masterpiece was rendered too messy to tape up on the board.


Later in grammar school our back door neighbor cut the limb off a giant oak. It was the limb that had protruded over the fence into our immense back yard. My dad had put up a tire swing on a rope for us and the whole neighborhood loved it. The house behind us changed hands and the new owner was child-noise averse - so he did the logical thing - he cut off the 20 foot limb. I cried when I came home from school to find it, and the tire swing, on the ground behind our playhouse. Daddy built us a new swing set from pipes and other construction site materials, but it was never the same.


Late in grammar school Lyn, Pat, Dee and I would write the names of our true loves on pieces of paper, secure them in a taped up Band Aid box and hide them in the trunk of a tree on the banks of the Passaic River. That's also where we rubbed ourselves with poison ivy leaves to prove we were immune from the actual poison. - That's a story for another time. Many years later, I went over to the river to look for the tree and the Band Aid box. I searched in vain - as the memory of exactly where the tree was, eluded me. I envision some child in 2052 stumbling upon a hundred year old secret of our true loves - while seeking refuge in the branches of an oak tree by the river.


While I was in high school, they started clearing the vacant land adjoining our house to make way for six new houses. Every tree they took down struck a blow to my heart. The neighbor kids - the Parkers, Bystraks and Downey' and the Siergiej girls spent a lot of time in trees and under trees for some reason. I'm sure Freud or Dr. Phil or Craig Ferguson would have some explanation for that. We eventually came to welcome the Rileys and later the Stracks, although we never quite forgave them for taking the place of our trees. The ones they planted in their yards are majestic today and all is well with the world.


I don't have any tragic tree tale from college, although trees played an important part in our lives. The University of Arizona is an oasis in the desert and boasts a wide range of trees. - from the palm trees where we posed as freshman cheerleaders, to the olive trees that lined the streets of the north campus and spewed their fruit all squishy and oily on the lawns, to the wonderful fragrance of the orange blossoms on the trees outside our windows at Yuma Hall . We took those trees for granted, but in retrospect they enriched our lives and our college experience with such subtlety that we never even noticed.



When Joe and I lived in Polo Village in the Quonset hut our only shade was the mulberry tree that towered over our little home. Every year it laid a carpet of messy, pinkish-purple fruit that stained our shoes and our sidewalk and made the birds drunk with their fermented juice. The folks in charge offered to cut the tree down, but we declined their offer. It was, after all, our only shade and a living thing.



Back in Chatham in the late 60s we planted a small willow tree in our back yard. It grew in beauty and gave our kids shade in the summer. We were warned that the roots would probably cause problems with the sewer systems and water pipes - and those warnings must have come to fruition, for, when I returned for a visit in the late 70s it was gone. Glad I wasn't there when it happened.


In River Forest, whose elm lined streets were canopied with green glory in the summer, we survived several tree incidents. Dutch Elm Disease struck with a fury and we lost three huge trees from our property and along the parkway. To add insult to injury our next door neighbor cut down a healthy apple tree because "the damn apples attract bees". He also cut down a beautiful Norwegian Pine because he didn't like the shape of it. The trees we planted to replace the elms are now thriving and enhancing that little corner of the village. I never forgave the neighbor.



When I arrived here in Tucson a few weeks ago, I knew our community was undergoing a tree trimming project to clear out the mistletoe and get rid of dead branches in the mesquite trees. What I didn't know, was that our board of directors had authorized the removal of two stately palms (shown at left) and another shade tree next to our small swimming pool -which is my refuge when I am here. When I first approached the pool that first day, I felt a surge in my chest, a stab in my stomach, and such a feeling of loss that I cried on and off for days. It is just now that I can talk about it without a rise in blood pressure and heart beat. I will deal with the board of directors in my own way, when I am calm enough to do it professionally. In the meantime I am still grieving. Even if they planted new ones today, I am unlikely to live long enough to enjoy their beauty, their shade and the sound of them swaying in the wind. It took mother nature 40 years to create those trees and a group of fools, less than an hour to destroy them.




If this makes me a tree-hugger, so be it. There it is - I'm out of the closet on this issue. Here is the after picture.

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.