Let's Talk Trash: Dealing with Paper, Junk Mail, and More

Every spring, our apartment complex brings in dumpsters for an annual "Dumpster Day." This gives residents an opportunity to clear out the year's accumulated clutter, toss trash, recycle, and even participate in a site-wide tag sale. However, it's not long after the dumpsters have been towed away, that the worst clutter offender rears its head again--paper!

Even though most people proclaim that we live in an "electronic age," there is still a lot of paper that enters our lives on a daily basis. I must confess, I've always had a special affinity for paper, whether books, notebooks, magazines, writing paper, or cards. I jokingly tell people that I must have been a tree in a former life, and I like to have my "relatives" close by. I like the tactile nature of paper products. E-books have their place and can help you tame clutter, but I still like to be able to feel the texture of the cover, the smoothness of the pages, and have a sense of connection that holding an actual book in your hands provides. However, you can make wise choices to control the number of books taking up space in your home. (More on that below.)

Most of the paper entering our homes today is in the form of newspapers, magazines, junk mail, and bills. In a busy world, it's easy to toss these aside to read "later." Next thing we know, there's a pile of paper where the coffee table, or even the kitchen table, used to be. What's worse is that we may overlook a bill that's due because it's buried in a pile of junk.

If you need to tame the paper monster in your home, here are some tips that might help:

P - Place a small basket or box on a table to collect your incoming mail, preferably near a wastebasket, so that all the mail is in one place. When you open the mail, toss fillers, outside envelopes (unless you use the outer envelopes of bills to record the due dates), outer wrappers, and anything that is obviously "junk."

A - Add your name/address to the National Do Not Mail List. For info go to: http://www.directmail.com/directory/mail_preference/. If you receive junk mail with a prestamped, preaddressed return envelope, write "Remove me from your mailing list" on the return slip inside or a piece of paper, and mail it to the company in the prepaid envelope.

P - Pick it up to sort through only once. Deal with junk mail immediately by opening it, removing any personally identifiable information (which you will shred), and throw the rest in the wastebasket. Place bills to be paid in a file folder or mail holder until you are ready to pay them. If you are one of the rare, lucky people who still receives letters and cards by postal mail, place these in a letter holder or basket on your desk until you can respond to them. Make it a goal to deal with replies within a week of receipt.

E - Explore the online bill-paying service from your bank, and pay your bills electronically so the paper bills don't enter your home in the first place.

R - Recycle paper (some areas require that white office paper and colored paper be bundled separately for recycling, others do not; so check with your local department of public works or recycling service), newspaper, magazines, and cardboard. Staples do not have to be removed, but DO remove plastic clips or bindings, rubber bands, plastic stickers, membership cards, wire spiral bindings, and plastic wrappers. By the way, shredded paper makes great packing material if you send packages to relatives or friends at holiday time, but use a cross-cut shredder for added security--another way to recycle.

And here are some additional tips:

• Don't sign up for special magazine subscriptions that have an automatic renewal service unless you are certain you will want to continue your subscription beyond the reduced rate period. Don't subscribe just because a magazine offers a "super savings" rate. If you're not going to read it, you're just wasting your money and adding to the clutter.

• Keep magazines by your chair or bed. If you haven't read them in a month, or by the time the next issue arrives, put them in the recycle box. If there is an article you want to read or save, tear out the article instead of saving the whole magazine. Then set a time to read the article and either throw it out afterward or file it away.

• Use a filing cabinet or file box for storing receipts that must be kept for tax purposes.

• Give each family member a "memory box" in which to store personal memorabilia, including special cards and letters. Scrapbooks or binders with clear pockets can be used for storing special cards and postcards, programs from concerts or plays, etc.

• To keep your home from looking like the local lending library, you might want to invest in an e-reader. With several different brands on the market, you can choose which works best for you. If you have books you will never read again, you can donate them to your library or public school for their book sales, take them to a used book store, or sell them through Amazon or eBay. Only collect print books of value to you, or by your favorite author(s); and recycle the rest by one of the aforementioned methods, or by donating them to prisons, homeless shelters, or hospitals. Call first to make sure they are accepting donations. You can also check online at http://for.theloveofbooks.com/2009/03/donate-books/ or http://www.gotbooks.com/.

So, how do you tame the clutter in your home? Do you have a hard time deciding what to keep and what to toss? Share your tips and trials in the comment section below.

Next time: Virtual Clutter

Cleaning, Clutter, and Chronic Pain/Illness

Spring housecleaning! Our mothers and grandmothers tackled this job as soon as the weather permitted the windows and doors to be opened to air out the house after the long winter. Then began the ritual of cleaning everything--furniture, upholstery, drapes, ceilings, walls, woodwork, floors, porcelain, etc. By the time they were done, everything had been picked up, put away, scrubbed clean, and the house and its contents looked fresh and neat.

I can remember tying a scarf around my head, putting on an old shirt and jeans, pinning a towel over the broom or dustmop, and pacing back and forth, back and forth, arms stretched over my head, as I walked the length and breadth of the livingroom, kitchen, or whatever room I happened to be in, removing dustwebs and dust from the ceiling. The walls got the same treatment--up and down, up and down, with the broom or dustmop--after the furniture had been pushed into the middle of the room section by section. Then the drapes and upholstery were vacuumed, the rest of the furniture was dusted, the floor was vacuumed and then mopped--everything done in that precise order so you weren't getting dust on things that had already been cleaned. Throw rugs were taken outside, draped over the clothesline or porch railing, and beaten until the previously trapped dust had floated away on the breeze. (You always made sure you weren't standing downwind, or you'd end up looking like a dust bunny yourself!)

This ritual was passed down from my grandmother to my mother, and from her to me. I continued it in my own home for many years. But, after beginning my journey with chronic pain and illness, that kind of in-depth spring (and fall) cleaning went proverbially "out the window." I could no longer raise my arms over my head long enough to complete even one swipe across the ceiling, let alone do the whole thing. And I no longer had the energy to complete the cleaning of a whole room, never mind the whole house! Housecleaning tasks that I used to do daily, gradually became weekly, and sometimes monthly, semi-annually, or not until someone else could do them.

I once read a quote that said, "A house should be clean enough to be healthy, and messy enough to look lived in." Mine definitely looks "lived in." It's amazing what you accumulate in thirty-plus years of marriage and raising a family. And I swear paper multiplies at night while we're sleeping! In addition to my own things, there are things that had belonged to my mother that passed to me after her death, and had to be removed from her house before it could be sold. So, I ended up with a dresser in the kitchen and boxes in the livingroom behind the sofa--whatever didn't have its own niche was boxed and piled to be gone through at a later date. Another old proverb often quoted is, "A place for everything, and everything in its place." But lives get busy, things get set down to be taken care of "later," especially after an emotional upheaval like the death of a loved one, and later keeps getting pushed further into the future.

I just want to point out here that there is a difference between clutter and hoarding. Clutter accumulates when we are busy, tired, or just plain too lazy to put things where they go or throw out what isn't needed. Hoarding is an illness, a compulsion to keep things because there is an emotional attachment (rational or not) to everything that crosses our path. For some, it might be a compulsion to buy clothes, even if they remain in the original bags with the tags on them for years on end. For others, it's the inability to distinguish what is useful from what is not because "I might need it some day" or because they feel that throwing things out is "wasteful." Hoarders, as seen on two recent TV series--"Hoarders" on A&E TV and "Hoarding: Buried Alive" on TLC--need help from both a mental health professional and an expert organizer, preferably one who is familiar with the dynamics of hoarding. A person with too much clutter, on the other hand, may just need a system, or plan, and perhaps some physical help to deal with the "stuff" that has accumulated, especially if they are physically limited by chronic pain and exhaustion.

There are any number of books on the market to help you deal with clutter problems. I know, because I have several of them cluttering up--I mean located on--my bookcases. Here are some that you may be familiar with: Getting Organized from the Inside Out by Julie Morgenstern, Clutter's Last Stand by Don Azlett, The Messies Manual by Sandra Felton, and many others. These are three, though, that I've found helpful in my own war against clutter.

No matter what book you use, or what strategy you decide to employ, the first thing you need to do is draw up a plan of attack. Don't just dive in because that can lead to frustration and a worse mess. Then try some of these strategies:

• Start with one room, or one part of a room, at a time.
• Divide the job into several smaller jobs.
• Try to enlist help from family or friends if you can't do it alone.
• Have whatever materials you will need ready, such as boxes labeled "Toss," "Donate," "Sell," "Keep," or whatever works for you.
• Decide how long you will work, and set a timer. Say you set the timer for 20 minutes. At the end of that time, decide if you want to keep going or if that's enough for the day. If you decide to go for another 20 minutes, that's fine. Just don't overdo.
• Schedule in breaks so you don't wear yourself out one day and do nothing the rest of the week. After you finish one of the smaller tasks, take a coffee break and sit outside for 10 minutes, or listen to your favorite music.
• When you finish the task set for the day, evaluate: what worked for you? what didn't? what can you do differently next time?
• Reward yourself for a job well-done, even if all you cleaned off was an end table. By doing a little bit at a time, over time, you'll reap the reward of a more orderly home and the satisfaction of what you've accomplished.

There are also clutter support groups online, such as http://flylady.com. Or, talk to a couple of your friends about getting together and taking turns helping each other with the decluttering with the hostess serving refreshments afterward.

What are your clutter issues? Have you tried using a book, or a support group? What worked for you? Share your thoughts and ideas in the comment section below.

Next: Dealing with Paper and Junk Mail

All Plans Are Tentative

"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself." -- Anna Quindlen

The above quotation is one of the Story Circle Network's writing prompts for this week, and it seemed like the perfect way to begin the first-quarter evaluation of my goals for this year. How about you--are you still working on the goals you set back in January? Did you give up before the month was out, or are you making progress? Did your initial enthusiasm for accomplishing great things this year peter out in the light of reality? Did you expect too much of yourself, too many changes, too many projects, and get bogged down in them all? Did you give up and decide to try again next year? Or are you still going strong?

No matter how good our intentions, life has a way of throwing us curves that derail even the best-laid plans. Then we beat ourselves up because we didn't do what we said we'd do, and before we know it we have talked ourselves into giving up altogether. If we can't be perfect, we might as well quit, right? Wrong, because perfect doesn't exist. We are humans, and being human means being imperfect. Don't let a false, unrealistic ideal prevent you from doing anything. Do what works for you.

When I began sharing my goals in January, I had no way of knowing I would sustain another hand injury in February, which greatly hampered my ability to type and keep up with my blog and other writing goals. Also, when you live with chronic pain and illness, as I do, the reality is that all plans are tentative because you never know from one day to the next how you will feel, or how much energy you'll have. Fortunately, my family and friends have come to understand this.

Even if you've gotten off course, there is no need to give up entirely. Take some time right now to review the goals you set in January. Looking back over the past three months, what were your problem areas? Instead of allowing yourself to be overcome with discouragement, take this opportunity to reevaluate and prioritize your goals. Make note of what was working and what was not. Did you take on too much given the amount of time and energy you have? Looking at your goals, decide what is the most important thing for you to accomplish this year, and focus on that one goal. Work on the others as time permits, but let go of the guilt if you have to put those off for later. Now that we're three months into the year, you're in a better position to evaluate what is realistic for you and what is not.

My overriding goal for this year was to find at least one thing each day for which to be thankful or grateful, and to strive to maintain a positive attitude and outlook. Although, at times, this has been difficult, it has been a valuable challenge and daily reminder of the blessings in my life. Abraham Lincoln said, "If you look for the bad in people expecting to find it, you surely will." I believe the inverse is also true, and not just about people but about events. If you look for the good--in people, in life-- you will surely find it--and I have. Moral: Make a game of it, a personal challenge to find even one good thing each day, and it will improve both your mood and your outlook.

The second goal was to begin revisions on my work in progress. I got off to a good start, then lost momentum with the hand injury and have had a hard time getting back into it. Since this goal is important to me, I have once again hooked up with my writing buddy from last November's National Novel Writing Month, for mutual support, encouragement, and accountability. As of today, I'm back on track. Moral: If you got derailed, pick up from where you left off and keep going. Don't make quitting an option. Schedule in "breaks" to allow for unexpected interruptions in your plans.

The third goal was to declutter one day a week. This goal has become a habit, now, even though there have been three Thursdays (not consecutive) when it wasn't possible to do this: twice because of my hand injury, and once because of an appointment that took up the afternoon. Even so, I have made good progress, and even spent two days decluttering one week to make up for missing it the week before. Moral: Be flexible. If you have to miss working on a goal on it's scheduled day, work on it a different day...or work on it two days that week. Don't be so rigid that you miss opportunities to make progress.

Goal four was to join two offline writer's groups. In February, I joined the Women's Story Circle Network, founded by author Susan Wittig Albert in 1997. Their mission statement is to help women share the stories of their lives and raise public awareness of the importance of women's personal histories. However, I have not yet joined a second writing group because I realized I needed more information about the degree of involvement and time commitment that might be required, before taking that step. Moral: Perhaps it's better to start with one group, and be able to really participate, than to join two and not be able to give either one the time or attention to make the experience a valuable one.

The last goal was to get a package of memorabilia from my mother's house mailed to my brother. I hadn't realized the emotional impact, nearly two years after her death, that dealing with her things would still have. That, combined with the physical exhaustion of chronic illness, has caused delaying this goal--especially since there is the possibility they might come to visit this spring and would be able to take the box back with them rather than me having to ship it to them. Moral: Self-imposed deadlines are not always meant to be written in stone, especially if there may be more than one option for accomplishing the goal.

To summarize, when working on goals:

1. Make a game of it.
2. Don't quit, keep going.
3. Be flexible.
4. Start small.
5. Look for other options.

So, how are you doing so far with your goals for this year? If you got derailed, will you join me in getting back on track? We still have nine months, three-quarters of this year, in which to achieve our goals. And for those who have managed to keep working steadily on your goals, share with us what keeps you motivated. Do you give yourself rewards along the way? What works for you? Leave your thoughts/comments in the comment section.

P.S. One of my goals for this week was to post a new blog entry and bring my gratitude journal up to date. Accomplished! YAY!

It's Not Easy Being Green

Even Kermit the Frog from Sesame Street had to admit, "It's not easy being green," perhaps, in part, because the word "green" performs so many different functions in the English language.

As a child, probably the first thing I learned about the word green was that it is a color, and could be made by mixing blue and yellow. Green is abundant in our world. It is the color of grass, leaves, certain insects, moss, pond scum, four-leaf clovers, paper money (until the US got more colorful with its currency), and my favorite outfit. It is also a category of vegetables, and my mother always told us to eat our greens: lettuce, cabbage, broccoli, peas, zucchini, green beans, green peppers, olives, avocados. A green salad was often served with dinner, and in the summer we looked forward to cooked greens: beet greens (especially if the tiny beets were still attached), spinach, Swiss chard, and more. A green light meant "go"--if it faced you, it was safe to cross the street; if it faced oncoming cars, you'd be smart to wait until the light changed. If you were given the "green light" at work, it meant you could proceed with your project.

Green could also mean that something wasn't ripe. I learned quickly that green concord grapes were sour, green bananas were hard, but green tomatoes were delicious if dipped in egg and cornflake crumbs and fried. Green wine meant it hadn't fully matured and was apt to have a harsh, acidic flavor. Green lumber had to dry out before it could be used in building, and furniture made with green wood could splinter when it dried out or pull apart at the joinings. Using green wood in your fireplace would smoke up the house. Green pottery hadn't yet been fired in a kiln, and green cement wasn't fully dried out and hardened, as we discovered when my dog left paw prints in the newly poured foundation of the breezeway connecting the house with the garage.

Someone new on the job was green, meaning inexperienced. And, if he'd been working a while but still made mistakes or didn't understand, he was considered "still green." A green recruit was one who had just enlisted in the service; and if he wore his "greens," it meant he had on his blue-green uniform. People from the West referred to people from the East who moved West as "greenhorns." A person could be green with envy, or turn green if he was going to be sick. And if you came here from another country, you had to have your "green card" if you didn't want to get into trouble with the Immigration Service.

At Christmas time, churches celebrate the "hanging of the greens," which means they decorate the church with evergreen boughs. And you hope you won't be short of "green" (money) so you can buy presents for everyone.

A town square or common is often referred to as the "village green." Closely cropped grass at a golf course might be referred to as the "putting green," a shooting range for archery is also called the "green," and a "bowling green" was used for lawn bowling.

Song titles and lyrics even used the word green in them. We listened to "The Ballad of the Green Beret" by Barry Sadler, "Bowling Green" by the Everly Brothers, "The Green, Green, Grass of Home" by Tom Jones, "The Green Leaves of Summer" by the Brothers Four, "Green, Green" by the Kingston Trio, and even the theme song from the TV show, "Green Acres."

Today, the word "green" also refers to something that is environmentally friendly. We have green computers, green cars, green fuels, green (natural) fibers, green jobs, and countless web sites that teach us ways in which to "green" our homes by using fuel efficient and environmentally sound appliances and products. And every year communities celebrate Green-up Day in the spring, when people volunteer to go out and pick up litter in their neighborhoods and along the highways.

Even the health industry has gone "green." Green smoothies are promoted as an easy, delicious way of getting in the recommended daily servings of fruits and vegetables. Green smoothies are rich in vitamins and other nutrients, are satisfying, give you energy, and can even help you lose weight or maintain your ideal weight. You can find recipes, articles, and how-to videos at such sites as Incredible Smoothies (www.incrediblesmoothies.com) and their soon-to-be-launched sister site, Incredible Raw (www.incredibleraw.com).

So, if you're feeling blue, are in a black mood, you're having trouble with some gray areas, or even if life is rosy and you're in the pink of health, maybe what you need is a little "green" in your life. As Kermit says at the end of the song, "I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful, and I think it's what I want to be."

The Longest Night

Today is the anniversary of my father's death forty-eight years ago. He died the day before my oldest brother's birthday, and just two and a half weeks before mine. My father had rarely been sick, and had never missed work due to illness. He always said that the day he couldn't go to work was the day he would die.

That morning, I remember my mother calling to me, worry and urgency in her voice. When I emerged from my bedroom, my father was sitting on the bathroom floor, my mother steadying him so he wouldn't fall over. She told me to take her place while she ran to the phone to call for an ambulance. He had vomited blood, then collapsed from weakness. Two weeks earlier, he had been diagnosed with what the doctor thought was the flu and told to stay home from work and go to bed. Today, it was clear that something much more than the flu was wrong with him, and what he'd said about not being able to go to work went through my mind.

For years, my father had been plagued by heartburn. Today, he most likely would have been given medication to treat his symptoms and protect his esophagus, but back then he was told to take an antacid, such as Tums, and cut out spicy foods. He was rushed to the hospital, tests were done, and we received the diagnosis--cancer of the esophagus. Surgery was the only thing that might save his life, and the odds were 80/20 against him. But when the doctors opened him up, the odds dropped to zero--every organ in his body, except his heart, had been invaded by cancer. The doctors said they were amazed he had kept going as long as he did, and that there was nothing they could do. They closed him up, returned him to his room, and the family took up vigil at the foot of his bed, waiting for him to wake up. He never did.

I remember sitting in his darkened room with my mother, my three brothers, and my aunt. I remember the nurse speaking to my father, trying to wake him from the anesthesia. I remember the sound of his breathing, the sounds of monitors to which he was connected, and the sound of the clock on the wall. When he stopped breathing, all of the other sounds stopped, too...except for the ticking of that clock. In addition to losing my father, I felt I had lost my sense of security, as well as my childhood.

The Longest Night

When I was thirteen,

I sat beside my mother

at the foot of his bed,

listening to the steady

t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k

of the clock on the wall,

to the steady

drip - drip - drip of the IV,

the s t e a d y

R I S E and f a l l

as the lungs

F I L L, e m p t y, F I L L

as the nurse takes his pulse,

as the light outside grays to dusk,

blackens to night,

as the steady

t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k

of the clock on the wall

counts out my father's life

second by second,

as the drip - drip - drip - of the IV goes on,

the breathing becomes labored

the chest RISES . . . p a u s e s . . . fa l l s,

and the lungs begin shutting down

as the nurse takes his pulse again

and shakes her head,

and the steady t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k, t-i-c-k

of the clock goes on,

the chest R I S E S . . . f a l l s . . . stops,

as the nurse removes the IV,

and shakes her head,

the light of my childhood

grays to dusk,

blackens to night,

and he's gone.

--Donna B. Russell

© March 30, 2005

Snow Days

A few nights ago on the news, the reporter said there had been snow in forty-nine states, with Hawaii being the only exception. I know that many of my friends have been shoveling most of the winter, with snowfalls of two to three feet burying not only lawns, but decks, cars, and shrubs. But in my little corner of Vermont we have only had one significant snowfall, and for most of the winter we've had bare, or nearly bare, ground. For the most part, temperatures, too, have been unseasonably mild...not like when I was growing up.

It seems to me, that when I was a child, we had to really bundle up all winter--thermal underwear, flannel shirts, winter weight slacks or woolen skirts, thick tights and knee-high socks, heavy sweaters, wool jackets or coats, warm woolen mittens, scarves, hats, and fleece-lined boots. It took so long to get ready to go out that we didn't have much time to play before an early dusk, and we were called in for supper.

I remember hiking up the hill to school, sometimes knee-deep in snow because the sidewalks hadn't yet been cleared, arriving at my classroom with numb, red cheeks and nose, and mittens, snowpants, and boots caked with snow. There were times when we had so much snow during the morning that school was canceled in the afternoon and we were sent home to enjoy our unexpected half-holiday sledding or building snow forts and having snowball fights with friends, or building snowmen. Mothers listened to local radio stations while preparing breakfast, waiting for those fateful school cancellations, that meant their plans for the day would be altered because the kids would be staying home. Children also listened to the radio while getting ready for school, hoping to hear the announcement of liberation before they headed out the door. No matter what the conditions, my father would always tell us that we "had it easy," not like when he was a boy. "We didn't have snow days," he'd say, then launch into one of his stories about walking for miles in blizzard conditions to get an education.

Several years ago, while taking a writing course online, my father's tales and a winter photograph inspired the following poem. I want to dedicate this to my friends who have had more than their share of snow days this winter, and to those of us who wish we had at least one or two.

Do you have a favorite "snow days" memory? Please share it in the comments section.

SNOW DAYS

Outside,

Gray-limbed skeletons bow and sway

While verdant maidens curtsy in the wind.

Cherry-red barns with powdered sugar roofs

And lemon-meringue windows wait to welcome

Plaid-clad farmers come to milk rust-brown cows.

Across the street, the white-robed church

Points a gray, bony finger toward a steel blue sky.

Inside,

Golden pancakes, gilded with butter,

Line up to be baptized in maple syrup.

Clouds of whipped cream

Swim in mud-brown lakes of cocoa.

Bacon snaps and crackles in the black-backed skillet

Of scrambled eggs and homefries.

Chairs scrape, voices blend in a medley

Of "good morning," "pass the potatoes,"

And "Thank You, God, for food to eat..."

Bob clicks on the radio, a voice crackles--

"Because of the snow, no school today..."

And the rest is drowned in loud hurrahs

As mother groans, and father says, again,

"When I was a boy, we didn't have snow days."

--Donna B. Russell

© March 13, 2005

Little Things

Last week was very busy, one of those in which "life" intruded on my plans, resulting in very few checkmarks on my To Do List. All of a sudden, it's the middle of another week, and I wonder, "Where did the time go?" If you're like me, there are times when it seems too many things demand your attention--those pesky "urgent" things that hound you during the day and keep you from falling asleep at night. Suddenly, mole hills become mountains, draining energy like a hole in a levee, until you're drowning in a flood of undone tasks, including overdue blog entries. Yet, it seems that when we are caught up in busy-ness, it's then that we are more likely to feel we haven't accomplished anything, and life seems empty.

The other day, while reading my Twitter feed, I came across this comment by Mariel Hemingway: "Life is full when you pay attention to the little things." Is that what's missing, I wondered? Do we get so caught up in the multitude of demands on our time that we fail to notice the "little things" that make our lives worth living? Those things that, if we would pause for a moment to notice, would add joy, laughter, and balance to an otherwise stressful day? What would happen if we consciously looked for those things, took even a minute, off and on throughout our day, to seek out the little, everyday, extraordinarily ordinary things?

Weekend before last, I wasn't looking forward to my week. It began on Monday with a dental appointment--just a regular semi-annual cleaning and checkup. No big deal...except that, from the time I was a child, I have felt panic when facing a dentist, my earliest experiences having been just short of torture. It has taken me fifty years to get to where I can sit in the chair without shaking, but there is always that underlying apprehension. Fortunately, my dentist and hygienist understand, and do everything they can to minimize my anxiety. The appointment was uneventful--no cavities, no problems, no shaking chair, and my teeth will remain in their place of origin. So, what "little things" helped to transform a highlly stressful experience into a much less stressful one? Things like my hygienist keeping the back of the chair elevated more than usual because she knew my back was hurting that day, giving me a second cup to rinse out in so I didn't have to twist to use the sink (I can't stand the squirt and suction option), and chatting with me about my kids, her kids, our pets, so that the time passed quickly. As a result, I forgot to be nervous! Her little attentions and accommodations to my needs made all the difference.

Tuesday, we not only had to take our new cat, Micau, for her first vet checkup, but our dog Mindy had a slight problem that needed a professional hand. I was grateful that they were able to squeeze her in before Micau's appointment so that we didn't have to make two trips. Our vet, too, does "little things" that make us and our animals more comfortable during our visits. She bubbles over with love for her job and for her patients, and you can't help smiling as soon as she enters the room. She takes time to pat and talk to them, to answer our questions, involves us in the decision-making process regarding their healthcare, and isn't afraid to show emotion when an animal has to be put down. Her willingness to make herself vulnerable, and the genuine love she shows for our animals, in addition to her skill, makes me trust her and puts our furry companions at ease. Oh, and another "little thing"--she tossed in a complimentary nail trim for Micau.

Thursday, I was scheduled for a bone density scan and spinal x-rays. Knowing I'd have to lay flat on my painful back, I was dreading both. Although it hurt to lie absolutely flat with my feet strapped together for the first test, the technician talked with me the whole time, reassuring me that it wouldn't take long and that I was doing great, and asking me questions to help keep my mind off the discomfort. From there I went to x-ray, where the technician not only gave me an extra pillow, but allowed me to bend my knees, relieving the stress on my back. She, too, made sure I was as comfortable as possible and worked quickly. The extra kindness and compassion of those two women made an uncomfortable experience much less so, and the whole process took less than an hour.

Other things that made my life full last week were taking time to watch Micau jump and play with her new little catnip mouse, cuddling with her as she nuzzled my neck or touched her little pink nose to mine; Meisha, our other cat, seeking me out and curling up beside me at night, using my hand for her pillow as she purred us to sleep; Mindy, my service dog, picking up a paper I dropped on the floor without me giving her the command to do so, and coming in to help me in the morning as soon as she heard me stirring; hearing a favorite piece of music on the radio; the beauty of a bouquet of flowers reminding me that spring is not far off; discovering a new artisan bread that is gluten-free and deliciously chewy; finding an exercise DVD that I can do while seated, and being able to actually DO all of the exercises! These things have little, if any, monetary value, but I wouldn't have traded them for the world. They provided the moments of calm in a hectic, painful, stressful week.

Kindness, compassion, caring, affection can't be bought, they can only be given and received. They may not pay the rent or put food on the table, or get blog entries written on time, but life would be unbearably bleak without them.

What are the "little things" that help you get through a stressful day/week/season of life, or that simply put a smile on your face when you need it most? Please share in the comment section.