How Billie Holiday, Hoboken Coffee and The Pioneer Woman Talked Me Down from my Starbucks Addiction

Technology news is full of information about self-tracking apps helping to “quantify” yourself.  Fitbits track your sleep and exercise.  Apps like Mint help you track your spending habits. And…no, let’s just stop right there.  Apps like Mint track your spending patterns and help you see how out of control your coffee drinking habits are.

Okay, let’s stop again.  Mint tracked my “Coffee Shop” budget for six months and slapped me into reality.  And now, I’m better.  Here’s what happened…

A conversation sometime last year:

Me: I’m setting up our monthly budgets in Mint.  How much do you spend for golf every month.

Mick:  I don’t know, I don’t keep track.

Me:  Well, my one “luxury” every month is going to the coffee shop, relaxing with a latte, and reading.  I’m budgeting $120 per month for me.  That’s my luxury item.  How about you?  What’s your average golf expenditures?

Mick’s golf budget is not part of this story.  But, the idea that I was using social exchange theory is.  In one sense, quite honestly, I was trying to justify my coffee spending habits by externalizing Mick’s golf activity spending habits.  Fair for you; fair for me…

In another way, however, I was trying to find a “number” that fit with how much we were each going to allow ourselves on luxury items per month we had already been spending, but needed to acknowledge.  This “budget line item” allowance we gave ourselves worked like a charm.  For six months or so, we kept a silent tally in our heads of “approximately THAT number” for “our THING.”

But at some point, however, my number began to slip.  I quit paying attention to my “Coffee Shop” line item. And, it gently creeped upward. Until April of 2014.  April was big month.  A full month.  Cram packed with activities, late nights, extra projects, and…extra stops at Starbucks.  I met colleagues at Starbucks to go over goals for research.  It was legislative session, so I had planning sessions at Starbucks followed by phone meetings at Starbucks.  All of the sudden, my $120 Starbucks habit had turned into…wait, WHAT? TWO-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SEVEN DOLLARS??? Continue reading How Billie Holiday, Hoboken Coffee and The Pioneer Woman Talked Me Down from my Starbucks Addiction

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EPOTM: Meeker, OK

_DSC0126“You could probably just talk with anyone here.  We’re all like family…that guy just had a horse kick the valve stem off the tire on his trailer, so I helped him fix his flat.”

Rachel and I had stepped outside the car to find out what the assembly of hundreds of trailers, horses, and people was all about.  The man explaining the flat tire scenario had been looking at us with anticipation as soon as we told him about our project. Continue reading EPOTM: Meeker, OK

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EPOTM: IXL, OK

_DSC0215Mother’s Day Eve, 2014, was full of more emotion than I would have liked.

Rachel and I had just finished our conversation in Boley and were cruising north on Highway 48.  We were running out of daylight, and had thought we might get to Bristow in enough time to find a good dinner.  We needed to debrief; our heads were full of pieces of life that needing sorting. Continue reading EPOTM: IXL, OK

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EPOTM: Payne, OK

_DSC0150I could tell by his face that he wasn’t inclined to speak with Rachel and I.

Our first official “no” was discussed as we exited the driveway.  Glancing back at the two-story white house, I knew the owner had a story to share.  But there were hints of physical frailties, and wrinkles on his brow that, coupled with his own perspective, kept those stories from strangers. Continue reading EPOTM: Payne, OK

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Mother’s Day Strawberries

photo-5As my blade makes its way through a cool, ripe Stilwell strawberry, I breathe in the heady sweetness wafting upwards and across my face.

It’s Mother’s Day, and I’ve just returned from a two-day road trip to places I’ve not been, visiting with people I’ve only just met, with one daughter at my side.

A gathering of family on Mother’s Day brought my other daughter to my side accompanied by her man. Along with them came my husband, and we all celebrated his mother by eating food she had prepared for us on the day she should have rested, and received.

The berries for our dessert had been left behind, so we joyfully ate cake with whipped topping and drank our tea.

Tonight in my own kitchen, as I finish cleaning the berries previously selected for today’s dessert, I close my eyes and remember the slice of homemade pound cake with orange glaze.  I pretend to spoon my just-prepared berries over the cake, lift a full bite to my mouth, and enjoy the sweet goodness of Mother’s Day.

Thank you, God, for my own mother who helped me learn to prepare food, for my mother-in-law who prepared our food today, for my two daughters who are standing on their own as they continue to prepare food leaps and bounds over my historical 20-something capacity.  Thank you, God, for the sweet goodness of Mother’s Day.

So incredibly sweet and good.

 

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