#nablopomo2016

After pausing, the car continued toward the intersection. And then turned left on red.

Fortunately, there was no traffic on the street onto which the car turned nor were any other pedestrians nearby. But I still can’t fathom why the person thought this was a good idea. If the driver was lost, they should have been more cautious. Also, it’s not as if the light takes forever to change, so they would only have had to wait a few moments.

Have you witnessed any reckless driving today?

  Day 28 of NanoPoblano/NaBloPoMo and #MicroblogMondays 118

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That’s what I did this morning before flipping through the rest of the first section. It’s a small paper, so this doesn’t take long. The story about the fire continued on the back page and was accompanied by another a photo. This photo was from a different angle. It showed a detached one-car garage. I recognized the garage. I flipped back to the front and realized I knew this two-story house with its front porch. A porch where I used to sit and watch my older cousins play. Without reading the article, I could tell the fire started in the kitchen. The kitchen where my aunts and uncles used to play poker. The kitchen where my grandma would make salmon patties.

I began to read the article. I recognized the street address even though I haven’t been there in many years. The house once belonged to my maternal grandparents. They are both gone, so the house is owned by strangers.

I feel for those strangers. When I worked at the Red Cross, I saw firsthand the devastation a fire can cause. The local chapter reported to the scene to offer assistance to the family of four who were inside when the blaze began. The newspaper didn’t report any injuries, which is a blessing.

While I empathize with the family, I don’t feel as sad as I thought I would. Or should. Maybe it’s because all of the memories I have of the place are unscathed. They remain untouched by flame.

However, I’ve decided to bypass these sugar-laden treats this holiday season and eat a healthier option: pumpkin oatmeal. I add a half-cup of pumpkin puree to my old-fashioned oats. After sprinkling cinnamon and adding water or milk, I microwave it for three minutes. Once cooked, I top the bowl with a touch of brown sugar and a handful of chopped pecans. This morning, I threw in some raisins, too. I’m upping the fiber, iron and vitamin content of an already nutritious breakfast.

A few years ago, I added pumpkin to this slow-cooker recipe for baked oatmeal. I was pleased with the results but never attempted it again when my husband complained that our next pot roast tasted like cinnamon.

A fiber-filled day 25! What seasonal treats are you enjoying? 

As someone with family, um, complications, I spent a quiet day at home with just my husband and son. The latter was getting into things all morning. After our holiday luncheon, I walked with Philip in the drizzle to the community playground. He jumped in every single puddle on the way there and back. His feet squished inside his rain boots and water dripped from his hat.

It was too cold to let him stay outside in soaking wet clothes, so we returned to the house. He resumed jumping on the bed, racing up and down the hallway, and splashing in the sink. And the dog’s water dish.

That’s why we went shopping today. It was a diversion. Philip could look at the books and toys while I stocked up on some essentials at the drugstore. When I realized that the dollar store was also open, we stopped there to pick up some fidgets for Philip.

So maybe I do feel sorry for the employees that are working today. Maybe they are missing family gatherings. Maybe they’d rather be at home watching the Macy’s parade or the football games or some holiday tearjerker on the Hallmark Channel. But I hope they know that they are providing a valuable service. I’m not talking about helping the bargain hunters spend a few dollars less on a bunch of stuff in advance of the Black Friday hordes. I’m talking about helping people who are otherwise alone on the holiday. Or the people who wish they were alone and can only escape by a quick trip to the store. I’m talking about the opportunity they offer to parents like me trying to help a child adjust to a change in routine.

So today, I’m thankful that those stores were open. They provided some entertainment for an energetic boy and some relief for his mom.

The slinky I bought for Philip at the dollar store.

The same slinky twenty minutes after we got home

  Day 24. Happy Thanksgiving!

I’m finishing up two other books at the moment, too. I’m getting inspired with SuperBetter by Jane McGonigal (stayed tune for many Fitness Friday posts related to this book) and revisiting Deborah Crombie’s British detective series featuring Superintendent Duncan Kincaid and Sergeant Gemma James by speeding through book two, All Shall Be Well.

I have this weekend off plus a week off at the end of the year, so I’m looking for a few good books to enjoy. Of course, being off from work doesn’t guarantee I’ll have reading time. That all depends on how demanding my son is. Still, I’d love to find out what book you read this past year that you think I just shouldn’t miss. Let me know in the comments!

Day 22!

Not yet.

I have some wonderful coworkers, but they are tea snobs. They hold lengthy conversations about styles and flavors of tea. They share loose leaf teas they have discovered. They discuss the merits of this tea ball and that brew basket. They all chipped in to purchase an electric kettle for the office. Not a simple on/off one like I use at home. This one has temperature settings depending on what type of tea you want to brew. It has a warming feature so you don’t commit the sin of reboiling water.

I thought of them as I reused my teabag. The water wasn’t even hot. I was simply changing its color. Even when I do brew tea in the evenings, I make my husband’s first. A friend told me that this reduces the amount of caffeine. That’s one goal but the other is that I don’t like strong tea.

I look at the teabag once more. It has dutifully dyed at least three large mugs since steeping in my husband’s cup.

There’s more where you came from. 

I toss it in the trash.