Leigh's Views

How are your driving skills?   Do you follow every rule?   Do you weave in and out of traffic?   Is your car in good shape?   Do your headlights work and do you use them?   I ask this because I’ve been traveling a lot in the last couple of years and let’s just say I think I’ve seen it all now.   Take this woman I saw once who was in front of the car I was a passenger in.   W e entered the lane to pay the toll on a turnpike.   The woman apparently hadn’t followed the rules and didn’t have her ticket at the ready to pay.   There were cars behind us so we couldn’t just back up and go into another line.   People began to get angry – horns were honking as this woman was arguing with the toll booth attendant.   To add to the problem, every few minutes she would flip the bird to those of us behind her – like that was helping the problem somehow.   5 minutes went by, then 10, then we got almost to the 15 minute mark before the woman finally passed over some money and left.   As my friend who

Do you know what zone heating/cooling is and how it works?   I was trying to explain the concept to someone the other day and lets just say he really wasn’t getting it.   The whole idea that each room in a house could be slightly different temperatures without closing doors was beyond him.   Or that you could just heat/cool rooms you were using to save power - let just say mind blown.   He kept saying it was better to have the whole house be the same temp in order to be “climatized.”   However, he couldn’t ever give a good reason why.   Therefore, I arranged a meeting with an HVAC installer so my friend could have an “expert” explain it since it was clear he wasn’t believing me.   Yeah, he didn’t believe the HVAC guy either.   Then, I did a little show and tell and took him to a house with a zone cooling system.   He got really upset when he discovered that one room had cold air blowing out of the wall and the next room didn’t.   Then when he set the two room to the same temp, one ro

Okay, I’ve been trying to learn Southern for a while now.  Trust me, it's a real language unto itself.    I really thought I had been making some progress.   It was easier to understand my neighbors, I was having to repeat myself less often.   However, twice in the last week I was reminded that I’m not from here and maybe I’ll never fit in.   The first instance was at a pizza place.   I placed my order which included the ingredient green olives.   The pizza arrived with green peppers.   Uhm, now in what universe does olives and peppers sound even remotely similar?   When I pointed out the mistake, the waitress stated, “Well, you're rather hard to understand.”   Of course she said this in her thick Southern drawl which I was supposed to interpret with no problems.   Fine, moving on with life with peppers not olives.   The second time, I was having a conversation with someone who also isn’t from here.   Someone else overheard the conversation and later asked me what language we

Can you tell the subtle difference in color between white, off white and cream?   What if they’re right next to each other – could you tell there are three distinct colors before you?   I ask this because I was at someone’s house the other day and noticed that the bullnose tile they had put up around the bathroom tile was off white.   However, the bathroom tile was white.   It was interesting and I wasn’t sure I liked the effect.   So, I asked the person what made them think to do the two colors like that.   He gave me a funny look and state all the tile was the same color.   Oh, okay, fine.   I’m not one to argue the point – or to point out someone may be a bit color blind.   But how important are details?   In this case, probably not that important.   Yet, at other times, as the expression goes, the devil is in the details.   Those fine little points can make or break a project.   They can determine if we move on or are stuck in the same spot forever.   Thus, having someone else gi

Okay, you’re at work.  Your job is to keep the place clean – it’s a fast food joint.  Your tasks for the hour are 1) clean bathrooms 2) sweep 3) mop 4) take out trash 5) wipe tables.  What should your priority be?  And in what order should these items be done?  Let me tell you what shouldn’t happen.  And let me just say I only know this because I sat somewhere the other day and observed exactly this.  First the girl mopped – spreading crumbs around because she hadn’t swept.  Then she took out trash – leaving a trail of slime because she had just mopped.  All the while, tables hadn’t been bussed and wiped.   Next, she swept – making the floors even worse.  On to the bathrooms she went – I was afraid to go in there to see what chaos had been left in her wake.  Finally, she cleaned the tables – fine, this was good because by that time every table in the place was dirty.  It had been over an hour after all since she had touched any of those tables.  Problem was she wiped everything except

I was talking with someone the other day about what to tick on those boxes when you’re asked what your race/ethnicity is on forms.   He stated if you’re from Spain, you’re white.   Wait, what?   Spanish = Hispanic.   Right?  Well, nope.   He said I was being racist and short sighted.   People from Spain are just as white as everyone else from Europe.   Hispanic refers only to those who are Spanish mixed with whatever indigenous people Spain conquered.   Thus, those from Mexico, Latin America, some parts of South America were Hispanic.   However, people from Spain were white or Spanish if that was an option.   Wow, talk about loving your home nation a little too much.   Since, I’d never heard this before, I did a quick google search after our conversation.   Seems like this may not be his view alone.   We in America view this issue very differently than those in Spain view it.   We want to put labels on people, put everyone in a neat little box.   But in Spain, it appears this just is

I spent part of Mother’s Day in a public place having the fun of watching others observing the day.   The best thing I saw was a guy on the phone and trying to explain to his mom how use the facetime feature.   I don’t know if he had purchased the phone for her for Mother’s Day.   But, he would patiently tell her which button to hit, hang up, try to connect using facetime, fail, call her again to tell her which button – over and over.   It was funny, sweet, and a bit sad.   She never got it, yet he never got upset.   Here the poor guy just wanted to see his mom on Mother’s Day – epic fail.   Still, the important thing was he was spending time speaking with his mom.   How much effort do you make to connect with those who are special in your life?   Do you only do it on designated days?   Or do you try to reach out more frequently?   I’ve heard it said that every day should be Mother’s Day because without our moms we wouldn’t be here.   But there are so many people we should pay tribut

I was at my favorite coffeeshop, enjoying my favorite cold beverage.   People watching as I usually do.   Then, one of the nice young men who works there starts wandering around with a small food bag.   Intrigued, I tried to figure out what he was doing.   You see, here, like most places, they call your name, you go to the counter to pick up your order.   As he drew nearer to me at the front of the store and as far from the counter as can be, I could hear what he was telling people.   However, I still wasn’t getting why everyone was looking at him like he was from Mars.   Finally, it was my turn.   “Ma’am, I accidentally made this sandwich.   I’d hate to just toss it.   Would you like it?   It’s a bacon, cheese biscuit.”   Hey, my momma didn’t raise no fool.   This girl never turns down free food.   And that sandwich is good – I’ve had it before.   They make the biscuits from scratch – this is the south after all.   It was a bit early for lunch, but free is free.   “Sure.    Thanks s

I always wave at children I see in public places.   However, after today, I think maybe I should give up that practice.   I was in line at the grocery store with my milk, steak, potato, broccoli and strawberries.   Suddenly, this little girl pops up from the depths of the cart in front of me.   I hadn’t even noticed her hunkered down there until right at that moment.   I smiled and waved.   She smiled and waved back.   Her mother threw a fit.   And I do mean a big giant temper tantrum right there in aisle 3.   This mom starts ranting about stranger danger, how she told the little girl to stay at the bottom of the cart, etc.   Uhm, well, now I was felling like a child predator by that point.   Fine, I get it.   This world has become this great big scary place.   We need to be extra careful, we need to we watchful every second of every day.   There are ads about who to call to report our suspicious neighbors who we think might be terrorists.   This ain’t the America I grew up in.   No,

I know someone who’s a handyman.   He and I were talking the other day and he was sharing with me about the jobs he’s been doing lately.   He was lamenting that all the jobs were ones that he can’t see progress with by the end of the day – plumbing jobs, putting in ice makers, wiring.   Um, I’m fairly sure you can see progress with all of those.   Running water, fresh ice and working lights – sounds like a big improvement to me.   But I could see his point – unless you knew those things weren’t functioning/there to begin with you wouldn’t know they’d been fixed.   It’s not putting up tile or painting a wall – those things most people would notice right away.   Yet in life how many little changes do we make that no one notices?   Like doing 10 push-ups a day?   Sure, even a haircut can go unnoticed.   Some people won’t notice anything unless it bites them.   How about bigger changes?   Like if we decide to be a better person by volunteering at some obscure charity?   How many people w

Are women really the weaker sex?   Do they really know nothing about math, science, home repair, car repair, etc. - simply because they are women?   Personally, I don’t think so.   I have a brain and I like to use it.   I don’t like to have to hide in a box any time I’m having a conversation with a man.   I don’t like pretending to be dumb.   And when a man tells me, “Honey, it’s not your job…”, well, who cares if I don’t get paid to do whatever?   It doesn’t mean I’ve never done the task before.   Or that, given some time, I can’t figure out how to solve a certain problem.    I’m tired of being told in so many words I’m a stupid little girl.   I’m tired of being told in so many words to just look pretty.   And heaven forbid I try to tell a man why I think he’s going about a math, science, home repair or car repair problem the wrong way.   No, I’m done biting my tongue and saying nothing.   I don’t care if your fragile male ego can’t handle a woman who knows something.   Fine, this m