Dollars to Donuts

I've been reading a book that features two sayings that remind me of special people in my life.  The first, "betting dollars to donuts," was something my late mother always said, as in, "I'd bet dollar to donuts that she is Susie's mom because they look so much alike."  I looked up the saying's origin online, learning that it was made popular in 19th century America.  It doesn't refer to a true bet, but rather, suggests certainty.  The alliteration of it makes it rather pleasant to say, as well. The other saying is "You can't plow a field by turning it over in your mind."  Although the author appears unknown from my online research, the saying may have originated in Ireland.  This phrase reminds me of the late C.P. "Chappie" Fox, circus historian and author whose passion for antique circus wagons propelled him to amass an unparalleled collection for Circus World Museum.  One never to simply plow a field in his mind, Chappie used to say this phrase when emphasizing that you can't over-think an issue.  Sooner or later, you just have to do it.  I don't tend to use these sayings myself, but I just may start using them in honor of two people who influenced my life in ways for which I'll always be grateful.  And now to plow that field...

Pike or Pipe?

Sayings have a way of morphing over time, especially when the reason or essence of the saying is no longer easily understandable.  Such is the case with "down the pike."  Lately, I'd been hearing people say "down the pipe," which, at first blush, seems to make sense if you're talking about flushing something.  However, the real saying is "down the pike," referring to turnpikes.  I was curious enough about the change in the saying that I Googled it and found that others have been asking the same question.  Pacified, I decided that I wasn't as geeky as I thought I was.  Others itch to find the answers to life's small and peculiar dilemmas, too.  It doesn't really matter if you say "down the pike" or "down the pipe," but at least I've satisfied yet another of the many things that make like "curiouser and curiouser" to me!

Two Shakes of a Lamb's Tail

The other day, one of my clever and kind work colleagues sent me an instant message that she would be with me in two shakes of a lamb's tail.  I hadn't heard or read that saying in a long time, but I always liked that one.  I could visualize it as a child, recognizing that my impatience would be short-lived because those little lamb tails could shake pretty quickly.  Reading my colleague's instant message got me to thinking about multi-tasking, rushing and allowing myself to feel hurried and stressed.  This summer, I have been transitioning professionally and enjoying the break from email bombardment and the feeling that I had to run faster in order to keep up with the ever-increasing to-do list.  This has been a summer when it hasn't mattered as much if the lamb's tail shakes twice, three times or more, because I've had the time to think, ponder, discover and experiment.  I'm learning about myself and my priorities, my values and my dreams. What's important to me?  How do I want to spend my time?  Another friend eloquently answered that last question for me:  By living peacefully and joyfully with a healthy life-work balance.  So, whether it's two, three, four or more shakes of a lamb's tail, I'm learning to be more patient this summer, welcoming a respite from the professional busyness of the last 30 years and welcoming a healthier way of life that is filled with peace and joy.

Like Butter on Hot Gingerbread

My cousin Sharon recently sent me a lovely note that included a photo of my grandfather with her father.  Both were tiny little tykes with slicked back hair, ruffled collars and happy smiles.  Their little sepia-tone faces reflected the sheer joy of childhood.  My grandpa didn't change much over the years.  I could easily recognize Grandpa the man in that little photo of him as a wee one.  Sharon mentioned in her note that she has in her possession an autograph book of my great-grandmother's, who was Grandpa's mother and Sharon's grandmother.  My great-grandmother had written in the book, "May your virtues ever spread like butter on hot gingerbread."   Reading her quote made me think a bit about virtues.  Patience, compassion and loyalty came to mind.  Then, I started to wonder, how well do my virtues "spread"?  Are they kind of thick and congealed or, as Great-grandmother Ella wrote in 1894, do they spread like butter on hot gingerbread?  I shall take her words to heart and aspire for the latter.