{"id":16492,"date":"2014-02-22T11:57:24","date_gmt":"2014-02-22T19:57:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.backwoodshome.com\/blogs\/ClaireWolfe\/?p=16492"},"modified":"2014-02-22T11:57:24","modified_gmt":"2014-02-22T19:57:24","slug":"good-bad-attitude-good-bad-reasons","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/2014\/02\/22\/good-bad-attitude-good-bad-reasons\/","title":{"rendered":"Good-bad attitude; good-bad reasons"},"content":{"rendered":"

Good bad attitude<\/strong><\/p>\n

Thursday, I went to that place I inaccurately refer to as The Big City. Mostly it qualifies as The Big City only if you’re used to places like Chicken, Alaska, or Rabbit Hash, Kentucky<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Still, despite not being as cosmopolitan as Casper, Wyoming, or as bustling as Pocatello, Idaho, our Big City has its metropolitan moments. Not all of them good.<\/p>\n

To wit, we were at a stoplight, third in line to make a right turn, when an elderly gent started hobbling across the street with the aid of a cane. He was moving at a pretty good clip for a bent old guy. But that wasn’t good enough for the jerk whose truck was first in line for the turn.<\/p>\n

Honk! Honk! Honk!<\/i><\/p>\n

Said cretin laid on the horn. Hoping to accomplish what, I can’t imagine. Did he expect the old guy to hop on his cane and fly the rest of the way across the street?<\/p>\n

My friend L. and I were indignant and feeling very bad for the harrassed octogenarian. But he didn’t need our sympathies. As he stepped to the curb, he raised an arm high over his head and gave the truck jerk an emphatic “friendly finger” before striding onward.<\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

Bad good attitude<\/strong><\/p>\n

The occasion for the Big City expedition was birthdays. Two friends are about to have them and a third missed hers a few months ago because she was in the hospital wishing she were dead.<\/p>\n

So I told the three I’d take them to lunch at a lovely winery near the Big City. We’re blessed to have a gorgeous winery in this otherwise dreary working-class area and it’s always a treat to go there. <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Two of the birthday girls (sisters) have a little money and prefer to be the ones doing the treating. They protested against me buying lunch, even after I pointed out it would be a heck of a poor birthday present to make them buy their own food. (Anyhow, the treat was actually on someone else, as I explained over lunch. See below.)<\/p>\n

L. and I met them at the winery and they reluctantly “allowed” themselves to be treated — each of them carefully ordering the least expensive items on the menu.<\/p>\n

Then they sneaked into the the winery’s gift shop and emerged with bags for L. (the third birthday girl) and me containing goodies that outdid the entire lunch.<\/p>\n

“You need to learn to receive graciously,” I told them.<\/p>\n

“We’re not good at that,” they admitted.<\/p>\n

“Practice,” I said, receiving a bottle of the world’s best Gewurtztraminer and other delicacies gratefully, but less than graciously. <\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

Good attitude; bad reasons<\/strong><\/p>\n

The lunch was originally going to be on me. As it developed, it was Frederick who treated us all<\/a>. And then some. Frederick — that long-time, great-hearted freedomista who has decided to end his days doing good deeds.<\/p>\n

The day before the birthday lunch, Frederick quietly slipped a gift into my PayPal account with instructions only to “pay it forward.” I don’t know whether a birthday lunch counts toward that. If not, there’s plenty more opportunity.<\/p>\n

And Fred, I want you to know that on Thursday four happy, caring ladies enjoyed a fabulous lunch with even more delectable dessert. And we raised glasses of the world’s best Gewurtztraminer to you. You created memories.<\/p>\n

(ADDED: I forgot to mention when I first posted this, but the winery, too, pays it forward. Every variety of wine they make supports a different local charity. The world’s best Gewurtztraminer benefits a regional orchestra (I didn’t even know we had one). One of their reds is responsible for a substantial sum that comes every year to the animal rescue group I work with.)<\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

Good attitude; good reasons<\/strong><\/p>\n

Finally, salutes to all who’ve been using my Amazon links<\/a> for all your online shopping.<\/p>\n

December was the biggest Amazon month ever. But it’s 2014 that’s surprising me. Normally, January and February drop off a cliff. To my surprise, even though they’ve been (naturally) way below the holiday months, they’ve been above<\/i> typical good<\/i> months. <\/p>\n

Somebody or somebodies out there must be equipping spectacular kitchens. \ud83d\ude42 And a couple people sure did need high-power vacuum cleaners to pick up their pets’ hair. Those car parts, cameras, computer monitors, gift cards, Dockers, and diet supplements really contribute to blog health. But the wonderful thing is that even the tiniest purchases (those dozens of Kindle books, for instance) contribute. Because remember, Amazon bases commissions on a combination of the prices of items and the number of items sold in a month.<\/p>\n

So thanks for doing good for me — even during those weeks when I wasn’t able to do my best for the blog and you.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Good bad attitude Thursday, I went to that place I inaccurately refer to as The Big City. Mostly it qualifies as The Big City only if you’re used to places like Chicken, Alaska, or Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. Still, despite not being as cosmopolitan as Casper, Wyoming, or as bustling as Pocatello, Idaho, our Big City has its metropolitan moments. Not all of them good. To wit, we were at a stoplight, third in line to make a right turn, when an elderly gent started hobbling across the street with the aid of a cane. He was moving at a pretty<\/p>\n

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