Did you ever have a love-hate relationship with something? A situation where something produces the warm fuzzies with the shear mention of it; BUT at the same time, that something really grates against your very being. Stop and contemplate this statement. It seems impossible that something or someone can cause such contradictions in your mind and body.
Take spring. It is probably my most favorite time of year, the time of rebirth and hope. I impatiently await the first greening of the grass and temperatures that climb into the low seventies. I get a thrill driving around and seeing daffodils bowing their heads and birds gathering twigs to construct a suitable home for their eggs, BUT along with the greening of the world around me comes the drippy nose and itchy eyes. Pollen counts become my barometer that foretells how many boxes of Kleenex I will consume that day, With the green grass comes mowing. If you are unable to push that mower yourself, there’s the added expense of paying someone to do it. And my car is never clean due to the layers of pollen.
And there’s puppies. I just love the softness of their fur, the tiny pink tongues, and eyes that a person can get lost in. I have had numerous puppies in my lifetime, BUT with the puppies come little surprise puddles and chewed up shoes. Because my old back doesn’t allow me to bend over, I am hit with the realization that there will probably be no more puppies in my future. I shouldn’t even mention about the possibilities of tripping over those little critters as they seek shelter around their master’s feet.
I should give kittens a nod also. There’s nothing like the gentle vibrations on your chest as you pet their soft heads. It is one of the wonders of childhood to marvel just where that sound originates. The cycle of playful scampering and long naps seems endless, BUT so does the sneezing. My parents wondered where my stuffy head came from until my cat became a barn cat. My big male yellow cat was the sole reason we acquired a new couch, which led to Kitty being confined to the barn.
Summer nights allow a person to sit outside and stare up at the stars. The chirps of crickets and the buzz of cicadas create a symphony, with the accompaniment of the bullfrogs near the pond. There’s a certain peace your soul embraces as fireflies light up the night, BUT don’t forget the mosquitoes that bite with vengeance. I personally develop welts that itch for at least a week and often require antibiotic ointment to disappear. My allergies rear their ugly head, and my voice is bound to lower two octaves after a night out on the patio.
I find great pleasure in eating out. I claim it is because I have run out of ideas for unforgettable meals, but truth be had, I admit I just don’t like to cook. I love trying different types of food, from different cultures. Seafood, fresh from the sea, is among my favorites. Large buffets with multiple choices beckon me, BUT here comes a sensitive gastrointestinal tract. I spend a lot of time dissecting a menu, not in choosing a new dish to try, but determining what will not cause me to consume half a bottle of antiacids when I get home. I don’t pack away the food like I use to so a buffet is a waste of money.
I have always found other people interesting. My husband marvels as how I can find anyone to talk to any place we go. When we travel, I go to laundromats to wash clothes, but also to find out the place where the locals choose to eat. I have often laughed with total strangers over stories we shared. My children say I have a sign on my forehead that says: TELL ME ANYTHING. I marvel at what total strangers will share, BUT I do admit some of the stories were on the TOO MUCH INFORMATION scale. I have stifled a gasp or two and shed a few tears at what I have heard.
Here’s the thing: Life is full of contradictions. That is what makes life interesting. If it was always full of warm fuzzies, it wouldn’t feel so warm and fuzzy anymore. My mom use to say, “Take the good with the bad.” Focus on the good and let the bad move along. That way your life is full of daffodils, warm puppies, purring kitties, fireflies, coconut shrimp, and laughter. Those sniffles, puddles, stuffiness, mosquito bites, indigestion, and tears are the price you pay for feeling great and magnificently alive.
———
Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles and opinions written by a group of retired and current teachers — Ken Ballinger, Billy Kreigh and Kathy Schwartz, and Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions at the dinner table and elsewhere. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to editor.
