Inbox: A special delivery, and more
I just wanted to write and let you know of a great act of kindness/customer service that my daughter and I received while we were visiting Bordentown. After driving almost an hour and a half to get to a soccer game, my 11-year-old daughter informed me that she had forgotten her socks. From the field, I called Sports World and spoke with Greg. He informed me that they did have a pair of red socks—all of $3—and then worked hard to give me directions. Following this, he suggested that he have a driver drop the socks off to me instead.
This made such a difference to us and was a truly generous act as clearly the store would only be losing money on us. Bordentown is fortunate to have such a business in its community and, based on this interaction, we would definitely recommend Sports World! Thanks so much to Greg and the driver!
Finding calm in coloring
My fun was interrupted by my teenage daughters and niece who, upon seeing my project, dissolved into fits of laughter. That evening, however, Gene’s reaction, “That’s not funny, Bob,” was a disappointment. Gene remained enamored of Tammy, but I became more accepting of the relationship. Except in the middle of the night, when loud commercials woke me as he slept with her in another room. My frustration continued to simmer until his death in 1998, at which time I removed Tammy from my home.
Following 18 years of widowhood, man-free, TV-free years, intellectually stimulating years, I am again married. Phillip, too, is enamored with his TV. I am challenged by this even though his use of it is different from my previous experience. The moment I enter the room he pauses, mutes or turns it off to give me his full attention. He uses earphones when I am sleeping. I no longer wake in the night shouting,”Turn that down!”
But even with these concessions I have not happily adjusted to living with a mind-numbing, boring TV. I can read or write in another room but often if we want to spend time together, the TV will be on. Within an hour or two I am depressed. I love the man, but I don’t love the lifestyle. What shall I do?
One day in February, roaming around Barnes and Noble, I encountered coloring books marketed to adults. Coloring has been purported to relive stress and be an aid to meditation. A series of books by Lucy Mucklow, a licensed art therapist, illustrated the promises of coloring: Color Me Calm, Color Me Stress-free, Color Me Happy, Color Me Fearless. I was not fond of the pictures in her books, but a book of Mandalas on artist quality paper caught my eye. Overcoming doubts that I would receive the benefits the Mucklow books promised, I bought the Mandalas. I couldn’t see how coloring would fulfill my need to be creative, however, since I was not creating the designs. To my surprise I found enjoyment and satisfaction as I worked with the materials.
Several weeks after finishing my first mandala, I learned there was a monthly coloring group at Bordentown Library across the street. To my surprise more than a dozen people attend. I’m sure this fad shall pass like all others, but for now coloring is a happy addition to my life. I can sit with Phillip and “watch” TV while creating something beautiful.
You could say coloring saved my marriage.
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