Tag Archives: autobiographical

Heartwings Love Notes 1095 Whatever Happened to Elbow Grease

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Heartwings says: “There’s lots to be said for elbow grease.”

I was chatting with a friend of mine who is an energetic cleaner. “You don’t use any cleaning products with chlorine?” She asked me.  “How do you get things clean? No harsh chemicals? No oven cleaners?”

I know she can scrub endlessly away at something until it sparkles, and she thinks I’m a bit strange because of the products I use. I pointed out to her that vinegar, baking soda and salt can clean almost everything and result in no harm to the environment.

“Then you’ve got to scrub so hard to make them work,” she complained.

“Whatever happened to elbow grease?” I asked her with a laugh. “You go to a gym and pay money to exercise. When I do my housework, I get many of the same benefits.” She shook her head and changed the subject. I smiled to myself and thought about the money I save by not purchasing expensive, harsh, ill smelling, cleaning products. I use things I find right on my pantry shelves, plus a select few I buy at my market.

If you prefer commercial products, you can purchase environmentally sound cleaning products at your health food store and these days at some enlightened supermarkets. There are a few more that are available everywhere and legitimately good for the environment, like Murphy’s Oil Soap which smells wonderful and harms nothing, and good old Bon Ami—hasn’t scratched yet. I also discovered a little baking soda and a bit of scrubbing do away with tea stains in my mugs. Vinegar cleans the toilet and kills germs. It stays clean longer too. Pour vinegar and sprinkle with baking soda on your oven floor. Leave over night and wipe up for a clean oven in the morning.

I don’t mind a little extra scrubbing. I am beginning to see all housework as a form of benevolent exercise. Apparently, I am not alone in my thinking as I recently read something to the effect that those who analyze such things now include time spent cleaning and scrubbing as a valid form of exercise. This is good news for those of us who once thought housework was a necessary evil. Now it can serve two purposes and become a necessary good. Those who are pressed for time who have children at home might persuade them of the virtues of washing the floors as an alternative to tedious soccer practice. Although I’m pretty sure that to most children over the age of eight, almost anything is preferable to housework,

Along with Bon Ami, keep a shaker of baking soda on the edge of your sink and use them instead of an ill smelling scouring powder. Try sprinkling baking soda on your rugs overnight and vacuuming it up in the morning. You’ll be surprised how clean things will smell. And remember, elbow grease is not only free, it reduces calories and trims the arms and chest as well. Powerful stuff, elbow grease!

Hope you have a good supply!

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Do you have any good cleaning tips or suggestions? It is such a treat to hear from readers. Thanks in advance for your thoughts.

Heartwings Love Note 1093 The Kindness of Strangers

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Heartwings says, “When you look with kind eyes, it helps you to be kinder.”

Recently, I sat in a movie theater for nearly three hours. When the film ended, I stood up to find the restroom. While there were some railings near my seat, as I headed for the exit corridor, there was only a wall to help me steady my steps. My balance was challenged even as I used my cane. “Let me help you,” came a voice next to me. “Take my arm.” A short, kindly woman extended her arm to me.

She walked down the long corridor with me, at the rate of my slow steps very patiently, until we reached a ladies’ room. Only it was not the usual one but a special locked family room. Again, she waited with me as an attendant fetched a key and let me in. I kept thanking her. Every time I said how grateful I was, she shook her head and dismissed my words. When I came out, she was gone. My husband told me she had waited to tell him where I was. Sadly, I never learned her name.

The Dalai Lama tells us his religion is kindness. Focused in this way, kindness becomes a way to practice one’s spirituality. Of course, this is not confined to Buddhism. Christianity’s Jesus tells us to “Do unto others,” and other religious and spiritual paths have their versions of this kind of behavior as well. For most of my life, I have tried to practice kindness as often as possible.

The other day I was exiting a parking lot when a huge truck stopped in front of me, attempting to make a turn into the plaza across the street. After waiting for the cars to finish passing, it turned. There was a huge line of cars behind it, and I resigned myself to a long wait. But no, the person behind the truck waited for me to pull out and go. I gave her a big smile and a wave. What a blessing I received from that stranger on the road.

It’d one thing to be kind to those we love and cherish. It is to be hoped that we will give freely to dear friends and family. On the other hand, I was brought up to avoid strangers, to fear interaction with them, or at the least to be cautious around them. No one suggested being kind to them. I have never been inclined to follow this approach.

To be sure, being kind to strangers may or may not bring an immediate or any reward, yet that is not the reason to be doing it. Being kind is a good way to expand the heart and to build compassion. I have met with much kindness in my life and I have done my best to return it whenever I could as well as to initiate it. It costs little to nothing to be kind, and it adds to the sum of compassion in the world.

May you be as kind as you can be, always.

Blessings and best Regards, Tasha Halpert

Would you share a kindness from a stranger story with me? I so enjoy it when you share your stories. Comments and suggestions are welcome too.

Heartwings Love Notes 1092: Adjusting Expectations

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Heartwings says, “Dealing with our expectations takes lots of work.”

Expectations are tricky. They can make you think you’re falling behind, or create unrealistic goals that are impossible to fulfill. On the other hand, they can be guidelines or parameters that help us. How they function is up to us. While it is actually best to live without expectations, AKA: beginner’s mind—it is also almost  impossible to do so.

Our expectations of ourselves begin in infancy, when we struggle to our feet and take our first steps. However, at that time they are not conscious. They are also based on other people’s actions toward us. As we become aware of others and begin to interact, we expect the ball we throw or roll to be thrown or rolled back, and a world of actions and reactions begins to emerge for us.

Expectations are our attempts to learn for better or worse. They are built by experience. As young children we often learn how to make adults laugh or smile and thus treat us nicely. We also learn the reverse is true when we misbehave and make them angry. How well I remember wishing to read the newspaper during the day, yet refraining, knowing that my father wanted it pristine for his readership in the evening after work. No matter how carefully I refolded it, he would know, as I found out to my sorrow. But that was then.

Fast forward some eighty plus years into the future. I’ve had a whole lifetime of experience and of dealing with the expectations around which my life has revolved. Now, thanks to age and Parkinson’s, I am dealing with a whole new set of them, both positive and negative. Unexpectedly, all my previous experience has been superseded and I must deal with a whole lot of new parameters and limitations.

For instance, I’ve always been an independent, I’ll do it myself kind of person. Now I need help practically every time I turn around. I have difficulty opening jars or beating up eggs. It takes me a much longer time than it used to, to fix even the simplest meal. However, this is not said to complain or seek pity. The issue is one of having realistic expectations. Were I to do it the Zen way, I would have none at all. I would simply get out the ingredients for a meal and go to work on it.

Or I can learn to adjust my expectations to be content to proceed as skillfully as I can without being concerned. It’s true that I try to live without expectations, yet those niggly statements I grew up hearing—”You can do better” was a frequent one—tend to nip at me and must also be dealt with. I must talk back to them, assuring them I am doing my best, and that they can take it easy on me. Best of all, I must take it easy on me and remember not to have unrealistic expectations.

May you be able to fulfill most of your happy expectations.

Blessings and best Regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Do you wrestle with expectations? Do you have a few or lots? I so enjoy hearing from readers.

Heartwings Love Notes 1091: Birthdays are Timely Occasions

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Heartwings says, “Years can seem like weeks when memories cluster together.”

Our country has been celebrating its birthday on July fourth for quite a long time now. In three more years, it will be the two hundred and fiftieth birthday of the United States of America. While the first celebration was actually in 1777, it took time to catch on, and catch on it did. In the 1800s celebrations were widespread. Now, of course it is common and even commercialized.

The time passes so quickly now, it was only a few years ago that we celebrated the two hundredth, or so it seems to me.  For me, that holiday has always been filled with memories. I recall the wonderful parades that marched past our home in the town in Massachusetts where the children’s father and I raised our family. I have happy memories of the occasion as one for a gathering of townspeople later that day in the afternoon, with games and races for all ages.

My children participated in all the events and often won them, being well coordinated and athletic, unlike their mother. Unfortunately for me they always insisted I run in the tired mothers’ race—as it was called. Never having been much of a runner, I almost always came in last, but they were proud of me anyway. There was a children’s parade as well, and of course costumes to be cobbled together and happy faces as my family marched with the other children.

I remember as a youngster attending the fireworks held at the beach in her town, with my grandmother. We sat on the sand, watching the set pieces that had been attached to a wooden pier that jutted out into the water. It was a special and cherished experience. Nowadays I usually watch the fireworks on television listening to music. When I lived in Virginia, together with friends and a few thousand others, I got to see the fireworks over the Capitol—a most remarkable display.

Because Stephen’s birthday falls the day before on the third, we celebrate for several days, including the fifth, which is our wedding anniversary. We usually have a party with friends and when we had our inner peace center, we often had some who came from afar and tented in the back yard. July fourth has been a special day for me for as long as I can remember.

As we get older, the years seem to go by faster and faster. While this is surely an illusion, it is a very real experience. The celebrations of memory, with my children in costumes, parading along with others, seem just a few moments from my time with my grandmother and a few more from the parties we called Three Days of Peace and Love—July 3, 4, and 5, with tents on the lawn. Presently, our celebrations of these special days are quieter, and we will not be seeing live fireworks, however they will be just as special as they have always been, in their own way.

May you enjoy your celebration with those you love.

Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert

P.S. How do you celebrate the Fourth? Share with me if you like, I so enjoy the stories you do. Write me at tashahal@gmail.com.

Heartwings Love Notes 1087: The Virtue of Doing

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Heartwings says, “The virtue of doing may cause one dismay.”

Those of us Yankees raised in the traditional way of our ancestors, may well have inherited their ethic: To be busy, to be doing what is useful and good, to keep our hands occupied, is our watchword. There is even a saying that goes something like, “the devil finds work for idle hands.” This means, I expect, that if we don’t keep busy, we’ll get into mischief of some sort.

Perhaps because I had a mother raised in Germany, or perhaps because I had a Yankee father, I was always urged to be doing something, even if it was reading a book. My chief daily chore was taking care of our chickens. They lived in a hen house with a yard fenced in with chicken wire. I had to carry their mash from the barn and in the spring, summer, and fall, fill their water container from the faucet by the henhouse. For this I was paid the princely sum of fifty cents a week. In the winter I had to lug the water from the house, which was much more difficult.

Nowadays, fortunately I have no chickens to feed, only two human beings that need three meals a day, and our pitcher with the filtered water needs only to be carried from the sink to the table. Until fairly recently my life seemed relatively tranquil and most of what I needed to do could be done easily within my available time span. Then along came Parkinson’s Disease: a collection of symptoms clustered around the nerves and their connection to the brain.

My chief symptom is slowness. It takes me much longer to get things done than I am accustomed to, even though I have had two years or so to get used to it. This is made more difficult due to my childhood programming vis a vis the virtue of doing. For instance, I have to deal with my dismay at taking more than an hour to fix a meal when it used to take so much less time. My kind husband would say, “Don’t worry about it, take all the time you need.” That doesn’t silence the little voice that tells me I am too slow, or even that I am lazy.

Dealing with the frustration is a daily chore I wish I could eliminate, yet so far, I haven’t been able to. The voice of conscience seems to have no mercy on the hands that fumble when I work at cutting vegetables, or the feet that I must walk slowly and mindfully with lest I stumble. I know I do just fine, yet when the dinner isn’t ready in a timely manner, it says I ought to have begun sooner, and that’s no help.

I don’t mean to complain, only to share in case someone else who shares my dilemma might feel comforted to know she or he is not alone. 

May you make peace in your heart wish any disability you may have.

Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert

P If you have a story to share or some issue to discuss I’d love to hear from you. Your correspondence is precious to me. Please write me at tashahal@gmail.com

Heartwings Love Notes 1084: Memories of My Mother

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Heartwings says, “Holidays often generate memories of days gone by.”

There was a large cedar chest in my parents’ bedroom.  In it my mother kept items that were special or precious to her. As a youngster I was fascinated by its contents as well as what she kept in the drawers of her vanity and her shoe closet. The four vanity drawers held odds and ends, except for one that had evening handbags. These were fancy and often glittery. She had quite a collection.

My parents lived during a time when men and women ‘dressed for dinner.’ What that meant was long, formal evening gowns for the women and elegant trousers with a dinner jacket or even a tuxedo, for men. I can still see my mother, dressed in a lovely gown, sitting before the mirror of her dressing table, putting on her makeup and brushing her blond hair. She would be looking into the big mirror set between the two sets of drawers, as my dad tied his bow tie and put on his cummerbund.

Sometimes my mother would open up her cedar chest and I would get to see what she kept inside. Among other items, it held two costumes I never saw her wear. One was a colorful skirt and cropped top she wore in a picture someone had painted of her. There was a design of some kind on the cloth and perhaps it had been made for a dance performance. The other was a white skirt and top with many ruffles she once wore for Spanish dancing, accompanied by castanets.

Much of her time was spent tending our family—ultimately there were four of us; I was the eldest. We lived in a cottage on the property of my great aunt Alice. She also tended a large “victory” garden, growing most of our vegetables during the summer. She canned them, too, and again I have an image of her standing over a steaming kettle, lifting jars in and out.

She made the jelly we had with chicken on Sundays, too. In addition, she plucked and cleaned that chicken herself. She had not grown up in a household that did these tasks, and I admire her greatly for her ability to adapt to a very different lifestyle than the one she was used to when she met my charming, handsome father. We also kept chickens, and somehow had acquired a few bantams that included a white cockerel that strutted around crowing. My mother loved animals and the little hens would perch on her shoulders. Our goat, Ebony, was another of her favorites.

Of course, I have many more memories. Mothers’ Day has prompted me to remember and to share with my readers some of my memories from a time long gone by, when life was simpler, though of course I did not know that then. It’s odd how little we can tell while we pass through a time, compared with our        perspective on it in the years later.

May you have pleasant memories to share of times gone by.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

P.S. I’d love it if you’d share your memories of your mother with me. Be well and enjoy each day to the fullest.

Heartwings Love Noes 1072: Time to Smell the Roses

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Heartwings says, “It’s vital to take time to appreciate the present moment.”

One of my great pleasures in June is driving in the country when the wild roses are in bloom. If I am fortunate, I can have the car windows open and the scent of these small white single petaled blossoms pervades the air and drifts into my car. It’s enough to make me wish to stop, just sit there, and breathe it in.

It’s true that the vines that bear these flowers are invasive. When we owned our home on Sartell, I planted some by the swimming pool enclosure and while to begin with they were lovely to enjoy, they soon began to overpower their space and spread. In the end, the lovely scent was not enough of an inducement to keep them. But where they can grow wild it doesn’t matter.

There are some near my porch here, however last year they did not blossom. I fear they may have been overcome by other wildlings in the vicinity. I hope they have survived to bloom this year. The roses you find in the markets often do not have much scent, though there may be special ones that do. I remember the roses my father and my grandmother grew, they smelled wonderful.

Taking the time to smell the roses has to me become an important part of my life. At eighty-seven how many years do I have to continue to enjoy doing this? As the bottom of the hourglass fills, every grain becomes precious. The pleasure of any moment is to be savored. I thought of this as I opened an envelope of a fragrant loose-leaf tea this morning, inhaling the delightful mixture of spices and herbs it contained.

These small and simple enjoyments of life take on a greater importance as the years dwindle—at least they have for me. The sense of smell is I believe one of our first to develop and the last to go. The infant finds its mother’s breast by the scent. It’s an important aid to survival. So is the smell of something burning. On the other hand, the sense of smell is an important part of the pleasure of eating, as well as other parts of life, such as embracing loved ones or just cooking with favorite foods. I do love to cook, as much for the good smells as anything. I even have a fond memory of someone saying as they came into the room, “This must be Tasha’s kitchen because it smells so good.”

It’s easy to get caught up in one’s busy-ness and forget to stop and smell the roses. It’s important, however, to remember to do that, regardless what else there is to be done. Life has many small and simple pleasures to offer and when we take advantage of them, when we notice them and murmur a small prayer of thanks for them, life is immeasurably improved. Try this for yourself and see if you don’t experience a lift to your spirits and a warmth in your heart.

May you have many pleasant present moments.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

P.S. Do you have any stories to share, or comments to make? I so enjoy hearing from readers. Please write to me at Tashahal@gmail.com. My website, for more Love Notes is www.heartwingsandfriends.com

Heartwings Love Notes 1077: Duty, Obligation, and Love

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Heartwings says, “Small acts of love sustain a relationship over time.”

Stephen and I have been together for more than 45 years and this year in July we will have been married for 43. If you were to ask me what keeps us together, I could give you several answers, and they would all be correct. However, in my opinion there is one that stands out above any other: we do our best to be kind to each other. Of course, there are times when one or the other of us, in an attempt to be kind, metaphorically steps on the other’s toes. However, all is quickly forgiven when the one with the stepped-on toes informs the stepper of the error and a discussion ensues.

The codicil of this kindness is a dedication to honesty and truthfulness about feelings. We’ve learned it’s all right to say “ouch” when necessary, and usually to do it tactfully. “You made me…” is not a good way to begin any kind of conversation featuring a complaint. Neither is “Why did you do that to me?” Owning up to one’s feelings is vital. To say “You made me angry when you…” is not helpful. What is, is rather, “I felt angry when you…”.  This is fair and honest. It is important to allow oneself the luxury of being vulnerable enough to admit to being hurt, while not being accusatory and making the other feel uncomfortable.

Kindness in small ways is important. Stephen washes the dishes as a gift to me for doing the cooking. I appreciate this, especially since I know he doesn’t really like doing it. Sometimes I ask him if he would mind if I did them, and he may say yes, or no depending upon how he is feeling. I actually don’t mind doing them, and I even find it soothing to have my hands in warm, running water, however I appreciate his doing them as a loving gift. When I tidy the bed in the morning, opening the covers I’ve straightened to air the bed, I make it easier to make later. This is a gift of love I give Stephen because he makes the bed.

These little daily acts of love between us are not extraordinary or big hearted, but they are part of how we express our love for one another. Small gifts he finds here and there from his forays into thrift shops, thoughtful gestures like holding the door for me, or handing me my cane, are other simple offerings of love and caring that keep love in the forefront of our relationship. Asking each other if one or the other is happy several times a day demonstrates this as well. We live in close proximity, in a small apartment, and it would be easy to get irritated with each other, however we don’t because we are tender with one another, as well as honest. I am grateful to him for his caring, as he is grateful to me. We express this often. It also helps keep us both in love.

May you find happy ways to express your love to your dear ones.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

P. S. Your comments, dear reader, are always welcome, as well as any tidbits from your own experiences. Your correspondence makes me so happy, so please, do write when you can.

Heartwings Love Notes 1074 A Little Rain is Good for the Garden

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Heartwings says, “The acronym for fear spells false evidence appearing real.”

Recently I had a small series of bumps in the road of life. Taken individually, none was particularly serious. Taken as a whole they were a reminder to me to be grateful for what I ordinarily might take for granted. For instance, when I run the water in the sink I expect it to go down the drain, don’t you? Yet when it is reluctant to do so, something must be done. And I did all the things I could think of to do: plunging, pipe clearing liquid, more plunging, hot water, waiting patiently, more pipe clearing liquid, etc. When nothing did any good I opted for the plumber. He took care of it nicely and that was that–until the refrigerator refused to be cold.

A series of attempts to make it run properly failed and another repair person was summoned. Now I have a guarantee I have paid for that lasts a full year, and although I hope the refrigerator will continue to provide cold, at least I feel secure about further repairs should they be needed. It is so easy to take things like the refrigerator for granted. Naturally I expect the washing machine, the dryer, and the vacuum to function efficiently and when needed. However, these little glitches in my everyday life have alerted me to the fact that I do need to remember to be thankful for what I might otherwise take for granted.

Then there was the little popup that kept appearing on my computer screen. It reminded me that I needed to renew my virus protection. “Your computer may be at risk,” it proclaimed. Ought I to tremble in my shoes? I reminded myself to be careful not to download anything potentially hazardous and waited patiently until my computer friend was able to remedy that difficulty. The popup too reminded me to be grateful for my remarkable computer and its gifts to me.

When I was growing up, I would read stories about robots and the marvels they could perform. Somehow, they always walked on two legs and had arms and fingers. Mostly made of metal, like the tin man they had a kind of brain and could speak. Unlike the tin man they performed a multitude of tasks and cared for their owners. Today I am surrounded by “robots.” They don’t walk around or have conversations with me yet they can be programmed to do what I want them to do when I want them to do it and indeed, they do take care of me. They may not physically resemble the robots of the science fiction I once read, yet they fulfill many of the same functions.

I am grateful for my mechanical servants. I appreciate the stove, the washer, the dryer and the vacuum. Having read once in an article on the Feng Shui of India that suggested it, I have even given them all names. I praise them when they do my laundry and cook my food. Most of all I am grateful to them for the hard work they save me from. Truly I am grateful for the little bit of “rain” that fell on the garden of my daily life, it has been good for the garden and even better for the gardener.

May you handle your rain with grace and strength.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

How do you handle your rain? Can you avoid getting wet or find good ways to stay dry? I do love it when readers share their stories. Write to me at Tashahal@gmail.com and make my day.

Heartwings Love Notes 1073 Small Economies for Big Savings

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Heartwings says, “Paying attention to the truth behind advertising really helps.”

Newenglanders have a reputation for thrift.  “Use it up, make do, or do without” is one example of the thrifty frame of mind. Prices for everyday items like food, gas, and medicine rise every time payment comes due—or so it seems. These days thrifty habits are a necessity. A mindset that puts thrift at the forefront is extremely helpful to the budget.

I can remember my grandmother taking her foot off the gas to coast down hills. My mother found a way to use up every scrap of leftover food. I employed my old-fashioned meat grinder to grind up leftover lamb or beef for pot pies or casseroles. I have always made my own applesauce. Not only is it cheaper, it is more nutritious because I do not peel the apples before I cook them—putting them through a food mill once they have been the slow cooker overnight. I also use half cider, half water to simmer them but never any sugar.

Soup does come in cans, but the only kind I buy are the clam chowder we like. While I am reluctant to cook anything too labor intensive these days, I am happy to make my own soups with lentils or split peas. Leftovers, often combined in good ways, are used up creatively.

 Normally nothing in my kitchen goes to waste. I’ve even discovered that fruit that seems overripe or to be going bad can be cooked up instead, sweetened, and used as syrup for pancakes, waffles, or plain cake. See if you can find a recipe for Cottage Pudding and bake up this inexpensive plain muffin style cake to serve with any sauce for an economical dessert. Email me if you can’t find one and I will give you my recipe from Fanny Farmer’s. That has many good, inexpensive, and helpful recipes and ways to sav

I get annoyed by the advertisements that want you to save money by spending it. It’s false economy to buy something on sale unless you really do need it. No matter how tempting the “sale” may be, if you don’t need it or are tempted to use it to replace something adequate that you already have, it’s no bargain. Spending to save is ridiculous. So is getting something “free” that will get more expensive later. Reading the small print is very important.

Once it was fashionable to be chubby. It meant you had plenty of money for food. Now it is fashionable to drive expensive cars, carry a trendy pocketbook or wear certain name brands of shoes. This is how people get corralled into running up credit cards that have exorbitant interest. I can say I get tempted too, yet I know how to resist. Being grateful for what I already have is my secret to keeping myself free of the urge to buy more. Of course, thrift stores are another way go, Think thrifty and save.

May you discover wonderful ways to economize that cause you no pain.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

P.S. What’s your secret to saving? Write to me at reply on WordPress or at tashahal@gmail.com It’s a real treat to hear from readers, and I always answer.