Family life, Paleo-ish eating and Coping with Chronic Illness

Posts tagged ‘Chicago’

Chicago and my Ice Skating Skills

Chicago, I love you!!!   At least what I’ve seen of you, which admittedly is only your bright and shiny parts.

chicago sign

I had the opportunity to spend the day in Chicago this week with many of the lovely people I work with every day.  We lit it up, baby! I blogged about this same trip last year too. Just in case anyone remembers that, I’ll try not to repeat myself.

No one in the group I was with in Chicago cared about stuff like Nieman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue.  We cared about seeing new things, and having fun. So, that’s what we did.  My friend/co-worker/and former Chicago area resident had a full itinerary for us to follow. We were busy.

At one point, we did take a shortcut through one fine store.   A flashy silver and purple bracelet caught my eye there.  I think I told my friend, “Oh, I love this!” The bracelet was sitting right on the jewelry counter with a bunch of other pieces I assumed were costume jewelry (the only kind I wear). The bracelet wasn’t costume jewelry.  It was the kind of bracelet that costs one-thousand-dollars.  I apologized to the salesperson for even looking at it.   I need to get out more, and meet more people.  I really didn’t know people bought thousand dollar bracelets.

Here’s how we started our day.  We arrived in Chicago around lunch.  We ate at the “Signature Room” on the top of the John Hancock building.  Here’s the view:

signature room

I’d definitely recommend this experience.  The view was crazy, and lunch was only $20.  By Chicago standards that means it was free. Of course, if you were one of the unlucky suckers who ordered a glass of wine, the cost of your meal doubled.   I guess that’s just another rich person thing I don’t understand.

After the John Hancock building we plowed down Michigan Avenue.  We did have to stop in one store, because (you’re about to be shocked), I lost one of my mittens on the bus ride.  I had to buy another pair.  The sun was out, but it was cold.

I found a super cool hat at this store, and what I thought were awesome mittens too.  Here they are:

mittens

I know what you’re thinking.  These are the stupidest mittens ever invented (But, what about the manicure?  I’m fancy now.).  Your thumbs are meant to be exposed when you wear mittens, right?  I guess they think thumbs don’t get cold in Chicago.

I didn’t try these mittens on before I bought them, because why would I do something silly like that?  I came out of the store, and pulled the mittens out of the bag.  Right away, my friend said, “Are your thumbs covered in those mittens?”

I hadn’t noticed before that.  But see, my friend was a Valedictorian.  She’s highly intelligent, and can spot tiny flaws right away.  Average people couldn’t be expected to see this thing.  Really, I think I was swindled.

I put my thumb-less mittens on and we kept walking.  We visited Macy’s, and saw their giant Christmas Tree.  This year’s theme at Macy’s is “Believe”.  Macy’s always has a theme at Christmas.  The Christmas tree is in the middle of a famous restaurant called, “The Walnut Room”.  There was an insanely long line of people waiting to get into “The Walnut Room” to eat.  Maybe all those people were waiting, because the waitresses were dressed like princesses.  The princesses were waving magic wands over the guests’ heads.   Or, maybe all those people just really wanted to eat some of the delicious walnuts served at “The Walnut Room”.   I don’t know.  I’m new here, so quit asking.   I just know I was glad I wasn’t waiting in that line. I wouldn’t do it.  Not even for great walnuts.

After the Christmas Tree viewing we grabbed Latte’s and went to buy me more mittens.

Our group consisted of four women and one man.  The man in our group had to go into a store for something. It took him longer than we thought it would.  We made a joke about how maybe he was just trying to shake us.  Maybe he wanted to hang out by himself.

lattes

When he finally got out of the store, we headed down the street towards Millennial park.  One of my friends wanted to make a joke about our guy friend trying to shake us.  Only she mistakenly said (yelled) to him, “We won’t let you shag US, buddy.”  Which, of course, is true, but certainly goes without saying.  Turns out that even worldly Chicago people turn their heads when they hear a lady yell that on the street.  I sped up a little then, and tried to put some distance between my friend and me.

At Millennial Park we took our picture at the silver bean again.  Then, we went ice skating.  This was the part of the day that I was most looking forward to doing.  I tried keeping it on the down low, but what I was excited for my work friends to see is that I have skills.  When I was young, we were poor, but we did live across the street from a lake.  In the winter we skated a lot.  Had I decided to go on to the Olympics, let’s just say a gold wouldn’t have been out of the question.

The way I pictured this ice skating thing happening, is  that we’d all get out on the ice, and then I’d do my triple Salchow to a double toe loop, and everybody’s jaws would drop open.  They’d be like, “Miki, oh my Gosh!  You didn’t even tell us what an incredible skater you are.”

Then, I’d be kind of shy, and say, “Oh, I’m not.  It’s just that we were poor, but we had some old skates around, and I taught myself some tricks.”

Then, they’d all be like, who knew Miki has so many hidden talents?  She’s so awesome and great.  Plus, she’s so modest.

Then, I’d be all like, “Can I make more money?”

Only, that didn’t happen.  Because, guess what?  Defective equipment.  The ice skates were ridiculous.  I felt like the inside of my ankle was being rubbed raw, and that’s just a shame.  I was gonna have a big moment.   I shuffled around the rink a couple of times while my skinny boss showed off her respectable skills instead.  That really made me mad:

ice skating

When we were done skating we headed back towards the John Hancock Building.  We finished the day in a warm restaurant, eating delicious food.  That’s a fun day.

I loved this outing.  I liked being silly with my friends from work.  I thought about my family while I was in Chicago too.  When I got home from Chicago, my whole family was sleeping.

Before school the next morning, I noticed the package of beef stew I told Scott to have while I was gone was still in the refrigerator.  Before I left for Chicago, I had a really clear conversation with Scott about what to have for dinner.  I think I told him twice for sure, maybe three times.  I even said, “I feel like you’re not listening to me.”

I saw that unopened package of stew, and I asked Olivia what Dad made for supper.  Then she remembered she was disgusted and said, “Dad fed us Reggie’s food.”

He really did.

Of course, Reggie eats real people food, so it’s not the worst thing that ever happened, but still.  You wouldn’t eat it on purpose.  There was a crock pot full of Reggie’s weekly mix on the counter; I guess Scott thought that stuff looked too good to pass up.

The lesson for me here is: seriously, why bother?  Most of us moms have learned this lesson before, but a lot of us can’t stop ourselves from bothering any way.

Pope Rod and Hall-of-Fame Jane

I have been doing some soul searching. Don’t you think blogging is kind of weird?  I’ve been thinking a lot about blogging lately.

Our Pastor had some interesting things to say this week.   Was it a coincidence that he spoke to my troubled mind?  I guess I don’t think so.  Our Pastor talked about human nature a.k.a. sin. He says we can’t escape it.

Our Pastor is a kind, soft-spoken, humble guy.  He told us that he feels like he has been called by God into ministry.  He said he knows he is using the gifts God gave him to serve others and to serve God.  And, he said he also craves human praise.

Exactly.  I could’t agree more.  I mean, he really does.  I’m glad he can finally admit it.

I’m trying to make a serious point. Why can’t I ever stop clowning around?

No.  I don’t think our Pastor craves human praise; I think I do.  And THAT is really starting to get on my nerves. And, so is all this bold print I keep using.

Humble people are my favorite. Seriously.  I just love them.  I married one of the humblest people  I know.  And, I think it is only fitting that I brag about it.  I’m just attracted to humility.  It’s so magnetic.

I think about all the super awesome people I know, who have super awesome lives, and I’m wondering this: Why the heck haven’t they started a blog? Because they weren’t born a fool, I guess.

I know a lot of fantastic people who don’t like/need/want attention.  I want to be like those people.  Blogging probably isn’t going to get me there.

This stuff is the bane of my existence right now.  I am confident that I’m in my sweet spot when I’m writing and making jokes.  I feel like God meant me to use this thing I like so much.  But, my motives are NOT pure.  When someone shares one of my posts with their friends, or sends me an encouraging word, I’m just like a puppy.  My tail starts wagging, and I’m eager for more.  I’m not very evolved.

I don’t know how to escape this.  I thought a good start would be to follow my Pastor’s lead: tell the truth.  So, there it is.  That’s the truth.  I’m going to pray for myself on this one, and ask for insight.  I’ll let you know what I hear.

You know who should have a blog?  Rod and Jane Spillane.  What? You haven’t heard of them?  That’s surprising. They’re famous at our house.

Rod and Jane have been married a long time.  Rod is our Youth Pastor.  Jane is  Rod’s wife.  She is a music teacher and Rod’s helper in all things.   A long time ago, Eddie made up nicknames for these two beautiful people:  “Pope Rod” and “Hall-of-Fame-Jane”.  Eddie always makes up nicknames for people he loves.

You know that song, “I get knocked down, but I get up again.  Never going to keep me down…”? That could be the Spillane’s theme song.  They’ve had some rows with life, but they are faithful, humble servants, and they just keep pressing on…I love them.

When Eddie was home bound and barely able to get out of bed, he didn’t feel very social.   Eddie had no interest in seeing anyone other than his family.  I can’t exactly know why.  My guess is that it takes too much energy to pretend you’re not sick.   I also think being around healthy people just adds insult to injury for sick folks.   They wonder why it is so easy for other people to feel so good, and why they can’t.

During those long, sick winters, there was one person who wouldn’t take no for an answer from Eddie.  That person was Rod.  For a couple of years, I would have told you that Rod (30 years Eddie’s senior) was Eddie’s best friend.  Rod would come to the house almost every week and hang out with Eddie.  They would goof around, make jokes and Rod would try to remind Eddie to keep hoping.  It helped.  It helped so much.

Pope Rod and Hall-of-Fame-Jane do not blog, and they do not want attention.  But, that’s just too bad, because my heart is full and I want you to know how much I love them.  The other night they had the kids put together Christmas gifts for kids in impoverished countries.  It was fun:

Rod and Jane

Hello Pope Rod and Hall-of-fame Jane. Why are you so cool?

The kids all went out and bought things they thought other kids may enjoy receiving.  Here’s the loot:

Christmas child gifts

Then, somehow Pope and Hall of Fame managed to get these teenagers to wrap all these gifts, and write letters to these kids across the world who these teenagers did not know:

eddie wrapping

Hi. I’m Eddie. Don’t worry, I just LOOK like I’m going to carjack you. I’m actually going to give you a gift.

This weekend, Hall of Fame Jane and Pope Rod are taking Zeke and the other youth group kids to Chicago.  They’re going to clean for, feed and serve folks who are having a rough time of things.  Hall of Fame and Pope are the type of people who should be blogging.  And, if they’re not gonna do it, then I’ll just have to do it for them.

And, finally, I’ve got one more important thing to tell you.  Scott said the nicest thing he’s ever said to me last week.  He said they made a commercial about me.  The commercial came on and he yelled for me to come and see it.  He said the last scene especially reminded him of me.  Here it is:

I gave Scott a hug, and said, “Really?  Because that’s who I think I am too: crazy, dancing lady.”  Then, I said, “But you’d probably say my moves are a little better than hers, right?”

And there you have it: how deep introspection has taught me nothing.

My Kids’ Inheritance

“Why is summer taking so long?” In the history of the world, has this ever been said?  I doubt it.  No. We are all asking each other where summer went.  What happened to it?  Summer was just here a minute ago.

Our family ended summer on a fine note.  I love long weekends. I like Labor Day better than Memorial Day.  Labor Day doesn’t come with all the guilt; no one posts Facebook messages on Labor Day scolding you for not properly celebrating Labor.  That’s a relief.

We went to Scott’s family reunion over Labor Day.   I don’t like the words “Family Reunion”.  Those words don’t conjure up positive imagery for me.  I get the same kind of feeling when people talk about Family Reunions as I do when I hear about dental appointments or weighted lunges.  I don’t know why; generally I’m totally in favor of families.

A family reunion sounds like there’s a chance I could be stuck on someone’s plastic covered sofa, drinking tea and listening to a story about Great Aunt Bertha’s favorite Hymns. That doesn’t sound fun.  I get it.  I’m selfish.

This reunion was fun.  This reunion was NOT like a like a dental appointment, or like weighted lunges (I could certainly stand to do a few.)  This reunion was with Scott’s Mom’s family.  Their kids, and their kids’ kids.  Scott’s Mom and her siblings have a story.  I wish that I could tell their story in detail and at length. It is way more interesting than talking about hymns.

Today I can give you the cliff notes:  Scott’s mom, Gail, had four siblings.   Gail’s parents owned a busy and profitable tavern in a small town in Iowa called Earlville.   Earlville is kind of like Chicago, only instead of all the buildings, people, streets and business, you have corn fields, corn fields and cornfiels; otherwise, exactly the same.

earlville is chicago

Earlville and Chicago = Same

When Gail was young, her mom, Caroline, would rise early and stay up late; Caroline took care of the family and helped run their business.  Caroline was cheerful and hardworking.

When Gail was 12, her mother died.  Gail’s father tried to keep the family and the business going, but it proved to be too difficult without his wife.   Caroline was a strong woman.  Her absence could not be overcome.  There were medical bills.  The family quickly went from prosperity to poverty.

After Caroline died,  Gail’s oldest brother joined the Air Force.  Gail’s oldest sister moved out on her own.  Gail and her younger sister were sent to live with an Aunt and Uncle in another city in Iowa.  Gail’s little brother was sent to live with a different Aunt and Uncle. The children never lived in the same house together again.

That’s the only part of the story I can tell; that’s all I know; except the ending.  I can tell you the ending.

Here it is:

specth family reunion

Almost Everyone

 

Gail’s oldest sister is in heaven.  The other four siblings are on Earth.  All four of these living siblings raised really, really (I’m tempted to add another “really” here) cool families.  I’m serious.  At this family reunion, I realized that every time I turned around there was someone awesome standing there.

How did those little kids in Earlville who lost their Mom, then their home and then their family survive in such a happy fashion?  How did they overcome their adversity?

I think the least those siblings could do is brag about it a little bit.  They don’t.  Scott doesn’t have the huggy- lovey-let’s-hold-hands-and-sing-Kumbaya before we share our feelings type of family.   That means I have to work extra hard to figure out how this all happened.

What I DO know is that those Earlville siblings were all gritty.  They were tough and hard working. They were loyal and devoted to their families.  It’s kind of beautiful.  Sorry, Gail’s family.   Don’t mean to go all mushy on you.  You can tell I’m not one of them.

It made me happy to take a tour of Grandma Gail’s little town where she was born.  I liked learning about her family.  It felt good to look my children in the eyes and say, “These are the people you come from.  That’s good news for you.  Your people are tough.  They value family, and they persevere.” I saw something good on the faces of my children as they listened to these stories.

tour of earlville

Grand Earlville Tour

My kids will face their own adversity.  It may help them to know that giving up and feeling sorry for themselves is not their natural way.  Strength is in their blood line.   It’s their inheritance.

Learning to Work and Fashion

I don’t have anything to change your life today.  I’m tired.  Can I interest you in some inconsequential conversation?  Good.  Keep reading.

What did you do for Memorial Day?  I didn’t go to any memorial services.  I did take some to think about and appreciate those who have passed, and those who have given their lives for our country.   Not much, but more than I’ve done in the past. I think I might go to a Memorial service next year.

I will admit that I have usually spent my Memorial Day weekends selfishly. Facebook changed that.

Did you see any Memorial Day messages on Facebook?  The ones with a little boy crying, holding an American flag?  His dad died in service to our country.  The message would read something like, “In case you thought Memorial Day was about barbecues or planting flowers.”  They could have added in  parentheses (you selfish, greedy, monster). That’s how those messages make you feel.  They work.

In addition to taking time to appreciate those we’ve lost, we decided we’d also spend the long weekend being grown ups.  Acting like grown ups is a departure from our typical  routine.  Scott and I were going to go to Chicago to celebrate our anniversary early.   Then we started talking about how you can’t really go to Chicago for a weekend without spending at least 84 thousand dollars.   We’re fresh out of all those dollars.

Instead, we decided to work on the house.   If that isn’t the most boring sentence I’ve ever written, I don’t know what is.   At least Scott and I are in agreement.  House stuff is boring.  We’d rather play games.

When Scott was a young teacher, I remember him telling me that he had decided to eat lunch in his classroom rather than the teachers’ lounge.  I asked him why.  He said it was because in the teacher’s lounge they talked about things like lawn mowers, electric bills and property taxes.  He told me that he didn’t feel like  he had a single intelligent comment to contribute; all those words made Scott feel like weeping from boredom.  Amen to that, Husband!  I agreed.

His teacher friends would say, “Hey Scott, what’s your opinion of the tax levy they’re proposing in our community?”

Everyone would turn to Scott and wait for his reply. Scott would look around at all the adults and answer, “Touch Down?”

That was 20 years ago.  Not THAT much has changed.  We still don’t like talking about boring stuff, but at least we now know that sometimes we have to DO boring stuff.   We decided to repaint some of our home’s interior.  It’s been 10 years. It’s time.

Scott and I like fun so much, that we’ve probably goofed up our kids.  We have played with them a lot.  When they’re grown ups, they may not realize that sometimes you have to do boring stuff.  That will be our fault.  I decided I’d try to teach them this lesson over the weekend.

It isn’t that I’m afraid to work.  In fact, I grew up in a  weird tourist community. All my friends and I started working at an early age.  I was selling  fruit drinks at a water park when I was in 5th grade.  I started working full-time in the summer between my 6th and 7th grade years of school.  My children are beyond that age; they’ve never held a real job.

I told them on Saturday that they needed to learn how to work.   When a parent says that, their kids magically disappear.

I was sticking to my guns this time.  I gave them the whole long and sad story about my slave labor as a child.  I said I had to help them understand that life is equal parts work and fun.  Today was the work part.  I asked them to put in a full day.

Zeke helped me paint.  Olivia cleaned and cooked.  Eddie was sick. Not the get-out-of-work kind of sick.  The real kind.

They did well.  I was impressed.  There was only one moment where I remember Olivia laying on the kitchen floor.  She looked pretty spent.  Her hair was crazy and her hand was to her forehead.  She was negotiating with me for an hour lunch rather than a half hour.  I caved.  I’m the world’s best boss.

Zeke and I killed the painting project.  We painted a bathroom, living room and dining room in one day.

painting

The next day we took the kids to get a treat to reward them for all their hard work.  See?  Best boss.

In the car I was telling Scott that manual labor was kind of fun.  I LOVE my career, but sometimes I feel a little low on the mental energy it requires.  Plus, like many other jobs, it’s difficult to completely check out.

I told Scott that if I became a house painter for a living I could just do my work until I was finished.  You listen to the radio while you work, and you don’t have to think.  Scott said he totally agreed.

Zeke overheard this conversation.  He leaned forward and asked, “Did you just say that you think what we did yesterday was fun?”

I said, “Yes.”

Zeke leaned back hard.  He announced, “I am going to HATE being adult so much!  That is terrible news!”

I guess my plan worked.

I don’t have anything more to say about working, but I did want to get very serious now.  Go ahead and grab some tissues.  This may get emotional.

I would like to try to bring something out in the open.  This is a little touchy.  I’m sorry for that.  It’s only because I care.  Sometimes I care too much.

It’s flowers.  It’s flowers on clothing.  It’s floral prints. I’m seeing them everywhere.   Oh man, why can’t humanity learn from its mistakes?  We’ve done this before.  Don’t do it again. Please. Don’t.  The results were disastrous the first time.  I suppose you think she looks cute:

jennifer-aniston-wi-aug-13-3

Every morning my favorite news lady is wearing a dress that looks like a picture of her flower garden.  And she’s PREGNANT?

I don’t know how to convince you people to stop.   You just should. Because this.  Click on it:

bridesmaid

 

I told you.  You’re not going to believe me when I tell you this, but those bridesmaid dresses were homemade. You probably thought they were right off the Paris runway.  Oh no.  Hand stitched, with love.

I had the 6 women I care most about in this world, wrap themselves in flowered table clothes, and stand by my side on the most important day of my life.  I look at those dresses and I wonder why.  Those women were never anything but kind to me.

So, I’m just saying, if you refuse to  listen to me, remember that you’ve been warned. Go ahead and wear your flower prints.  Just remember, people like taking pictures.  You won’t be able to forget.

 

 

 

Chicago and Charity

My company took a bus trip to Chicago this week. I work at a great place, and they like to host fun events from time to time; they organized this shopping trip.

I don’t have the best shopping skills. I have a super short attention span for all of it, and possibly even an aversion to fancy name brands. So, that does not leave me with a lot to do in Chicago. Or, at least that’s what I thought.

There are two women on my team at work, my manager and another co-worker. My co worker grew up in Chicago. Do you know the “Roadrunner” cartoon character? Well, that character was actually based on my co-worker. She has adult children, but she has the energy level of young child. She told us that she was going to give us a grand tour, and that was no empty threat.

We started at the John Hancock Building and ended up at Macy’s to see their live window displays. Along the way we guzzled coffee, saw “the bean”, and bought some delicious Garrett Popcorn.

IMAG0754 (1)

Before Chicago, these ladies and I did what all women do before a group trip. We talked about what we were going to wear. I mentioned tennis shoes, which offended them. Sophisticated, urban Chicagoites wear skinny jeans or leggings and boots. Well, I am a Sauk Prairian, and I wear baggy yoga pants and sneakers. I know everybody in Chicago is talking about me now and how I broke the rules. So, that kind of stinks.

I started the day missing my family. It’s true. I have some left over psychological issues from childhood that I’m still trying to work out. As a kid I had a hard time leaving my family. Sleep overs were always a little rough, and Summer camp was brutal. I had a hard time sleeping for a WHOLE YEAR after summer camp. See? Issues.

So, when we first got to Chicago, I started having some of those familiar pangs. Then, I saw a lady with a dog just like Reggie, and I started to cry and call for my mommy. Well, I thought about doing that any way.

Thankfully, Roadrunner was there. Have you ever tried feeling sorry for yourself while you are sprinting? Impossible. “Meep Meep”.

I think we ran a half marathon through that city. Another childhood problem I haven’t managed to shake appeared all along the way. I was silly. We sillied up that city pretty darn good. Like, I just couldn’t stop myself from pushing my manager towards the live mannequin. He cooperated nicely by breaking character and yelling “boo”. She jumped in the air and screamed. I did also announce at dinner that I was being promoted…to CEO. My first line of business was a raise…for myself. I really thought people would be happier for me. I’m not sure how that’s gonna hold up in the light of day. I think I’ll just try firing some people and see what happens. We sang Christmas carols on the way home, and just had a lot of silly fun.

One reason I was sad in Chicago was because I was missing Eddie and his team’s first wrestling meet. Most parents I know consider watching their kids from the crowd the best part of their job. Natural disaster or death may be the only thing that would keep them away. Well, that is me too. Except, I guess natural disasters, death AND trips to Chicago that I’m supposed to go on are what keep me away. We have Eddie’s erratic health to consider too. Every time he is on the mat is a gift not to be wasted. I received text updates throughout the night that kept me in the know. I mostly love technology.

Eddie has an awesome team of terrific kids. Here they are:

wrestling team

Eddie had to be dragged out of the house by a couple of his teammates the day this picture was taken. He was feeling wretched. I love all these kids. We have watched many of them grow up, and it is a pure delight in life to have been rooting for them all these years.

Some exciting things have been happening with Sauk Prairie Wrestling that have nothing to do with winning. The team is finding ways to serve others. This is the kind of stuff that gives me chills. Not because Sauk Prairie is special, but because as a young mom, these are exactly the lessons I had hoped my kids would learn some day. Happiness is hard to find when we are focused on ourselves and our own interests. Contentment comes through helping others.

The wrestling team has participated in the “Feed my Starving Children” program for the last two years. These guys are great kids, but they’re competitive too. Someone had the brilliant idea to tell them that box loading was a contest. Which, of course, they won.

wrestlers feed starving

Now the boys are working on another way to help raise money for the program, and help others too. They are selling coffee. This coffee tastes good, but it also works hard. For every 1 pound bag of coffee bought through Sauk Prairie Wrestling, $3 is donated to the wrestling program. A portion of the rest of the money goes towards a sustainable coffee bean farm in a poor region of Panama.

The coffee is from Phoenix Coffee Company. Phoenix partners with a variety of non-profit missions. Missions with causes like helping the homeless and stopping child sex trafficking. Scott learned of this company when he and Eddie were on a mission trip this summer to help build houses for the homeless in Puerto Rico.

Maybe you like coffee, or Sauk Prairie Wrestling, or charities. Maybe you like all three. If you do, then you might want to consider ordering coffee through Sauk Prairie Wrestling.

I personally have tried the chocolate, hazelnut and pumpkin spice. I drink a lot of coffee, so you’d think I would be more discriminating. I’m not. This is good coffee, but you should know that I think Foldgers tastes good too. So, there you have it. A fine review. If you decide to order some, I would love to know what you think. If you order three bags, the shipping is free.

http://saukprairiewrestling.greatcoffeegreatcause.com/

I know there are so many cool folks out there doing selfless acts of service for others, and they’re not tooting their own horn about it either. I love those people. This coffee thing is just one more neat idea. Jeesh!! Go ahead and say it, “Just back off the high pressure sales, Miki!” And, that was your demonstration on why I suck at sales. Happy coffee drinking.

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