Hue is it ?

                       

No, I am not clinically color blind...Actually my vision is pretty good…color wise and other wise…I am the resident expert at home to pick that right shade of paint to mask the blotch on the wall. But I am verbally challenged when it comes to colors…I can’t name them!!

To make it worse, I am strangely surrounded by men who are spectrum experts. Let me explain…

We are cramming in my team with a deadline and I get a high importance flagged email the last minute from a colleague with a spreadsheet attached and a single line. “All the cells highlighted in fuchsia need to be removed from the test chip”. I open the spreadsheet and see at least 19 different colored highlights. “Fuchsia??!! Which one of these is fuchsia??, How am I supposed to recognize fuchsia with a gun on my head and a deadline tomorrow”. Thank God for Google. He could have just called it pink and not named it like a Japanese tree!

I have a color cop right at home. B introduced me to the color espresso. It’s the dark black-brown shade which I end up picking for furniture. Only that I never called it espresso or compared it with coffee beans.

My colleague gets a new Lexus and I am like this school kid telling B everything that happened at work while he maintains his highly programmed nod every 10 seconds. And I am talking about the car, B suddenly asks “oh, cool, what color”…”Dark red”, I reply, happy that he is actually listening :). B didn’t lift his head or bat an eyelid. His attention was 10% with what I was talking about and 90% onto his Ipad. But he replied in a snap “Burgundy” before I could even complete my thought …”Hunh?” I respond, “Burgundy is the color” he clarified and continued teasing his new toy. I wished I at least said maroon instead of dark red!!!

I am at a nearby furniture store looking for something and check with the store assistant. Sorry about stereotyping, but he was this 6 ft tall burly looking guy and I hardly expected to have this conversation with him. I ask him for what I need and he goes “Ohh, you go down this aisle and do u see those couches, by those..” he quips…”By the brown couches?” I point and ask to confirm. “By the butterscotch ones, not the tan ones” he replied quickly circling my color insensitivity. ‘Butterscotch???!!, are we discussing ice cream or color???’ ..I think to myself and walk down trying to eye closely the difference between butterscotch and tan and trying to explain to myself why they couldn’t be called brown!! While I am at this distracted from my actual shopping, the next store assistant comes up to me “Need help with something”. I am instinctively thinking ‘Maybe I should pop quiz this guy ..which one is butterscotch, which is tan….maybe I will put him in a spot and feel better…maybe it was just one freak show’…Trying to look very educated about the topic, I start asking him about the hues and shades. Sadly he knew it, and started talking one step ahead about some color texturing ‘Damn!! ‘

Maybe it’s a generational shift…maybe by some complex code of evolution, men picked up the 256 color detecting gene and women dropped it. Maybe all women are now like me verbally-color-impaired…As fate had it…to answer my question, I had to talk to my friend who was getting married and in the middle of her shopping …., We get into the deep discussions of her reception attire and the conversation tosses around the accessory-matching-miseries and color coordination involving shades of violet, purple and indigo. That drove me to my fragile tipping point.

It’s just me, me alone in this twilight zone, color illiterate.

Never mind the elephant, let’s just talk...

Two is a company, three is a crowd…especially when the third person is a huge elephant sitting by your side and cramming into your conversation uninvited. You are jammed into a corner deprived of space, and obviously uncomfortable to be your natural self and yet have to appear completely oblivious to the huge companion because no one else sees him. Or they don’t want to admit they know he is there.


Sometimes, do u worry about how the very obvious things are ignored or set aside and people talk as if they came out of a bubble in space with no memory whatsoever of anything that happened earlier. The mammal weighs its way into the conversation or discussion and is flat out ignored.


What’s prompting me to write this is more of inter-personal situations where sometimes there is reluctance to address things explicitly, clear the tables when needed, and have the conversations that need to be had.


Wish life was like movies… the way movies end…a dozen happy faces, all good people prevail, all loopholes closed, all questions answered, all issues settled, there is bliss and the hope of continued bliss and “The End” flashes in front of it… well, unless there is a sequel and the tiny hint they throw at u…No matter how clichéd that sounds, we have no open ends gnawing into our mind..


Truth is things aren’t so and without a worried director to close things and explain the unexplained for us…we need to do it ourselves…set things straight…Some questions will never get asked and some will never get answered.


What then stops us from having an honest conversation…and not beat all around the bush hoping to rattle a poor bird when the elephant is still sitting by our side with a smile? What makes us ignore him….Fear to deal with issues sometimes leading to the denial of their existence. Or ego wherein we know they exist, we know they must be addressed, but it hurts our ego to be making that explicit effort for whatever reason.


The problems that I see existing in such communication are…


Pretending that a problem doesn’t exist when it does…This is not helping anyone. Problems just don’t go away or resolve themselves. Inaction is not a solution though it’s often an easier option. The perception that there is no real necessity to fix something that’s not totally broken and need driven band aids can help keep things together needs to change.


Subtlety is a bigger devil than inaction. A conversation with subtexts hints at something, but these hints are perceived differently by different people and can be completely and totally misinterpreted. With people we love, we push ego’s aside and reach out to resolve the differences, we reach out in case they don’t and we explain till they understand. The underlying value of the relationship is much more than the assumed correctness of our opinion. But in relationships where that trust and understanding remains to be established, the challenges come in, ego plays a bigger role and things are further muddied by subtlety. A complex implied and subtle communication with subtexts flying around needs to be correctly interpreted and addressed.


Don’t let the elephant stay in for too long….he then becomes like family…its harder to show him the door. He’s now become so much a part of the conversation that we feel downright guilty to even get rid of him.


Our huge companions need an audience. We have a small room and the only way they are going out and giving us back the space is if they are addressed. Be it professional or personal conversations, sad attention seeking elephants in the room cannot help us move ahead or decide anything sensibly.


So the next time there is an elephant in the room, in the conversation…show him some respect…Address him if u need to set things straight.

Aeeeeiooooo !!!!

Right after college with a lot of time to spare, I found myself getting a membership to British Council…The pretext and intent was to browse for grad school info, SOP tips, resume tips and also have some step-out-of-home time.. I would come down there every day, hang in till around lunch and then get back home….Not completely sure of what my purpose was but to kill time…That’s where I met M……M brought her 5 yr old son Vinay every day and studied while he got busy with his books. A cute little child with a wink and a naughty smile ....his little eyes spoke for themselves, he was a handful. As adorable as I found him, I now understand why M was so exasperated. Being a mom is always different. Vinu’s company was the most welcome distraction for me and M was always more than relieved to see me. So it worked both ways. My British Council visits increased for no technical reason whatsoever. I just enjoyed being there. It was a bubble to escape into, distract me from what’s ahead in my own life and my own little confusions….

A month of these library trysts later, Vinay and I are busy picking the next story book to read...when suddenly Vinay says “I love you”…My jaw drops and I am looking at the cutest being ever that has said that to me …and he smiled and continued with his books....so matter of fact like nothing just happened :)!! Guys..i tell u…even these tiny ones have no idea of how they let ur heart flutter :)…M’s parents came to Chennai to help her out in the next few months, her British council visits stopped…and I lost interest in going to the library myself…

It’s been several years …I email M once in a while and she has managed to set herself on a great career……and Vinu has forgotten me and moved on to the real things in life …And I miss those times….those library visits.. :D!....But isn’t that life !!

The last couple of weeks have been pensive, thoughtful and difficult for several reasons…The one person I can call anytime and bother has also been busy with his studies….and I have busied myself with sketching…..to escape into a bubble again…

Then on Monday, my nanny called in sick and I had a super active toddler with a cold, lots of work to finish and not the best of spirits to handle. One at a time …one at a time …I tell myself as I finish work, chase him down for each meal, put him to sleep, reply to emails, finish the action items….and I felt overwhelmed…

Towards late evening he was tired, I was tired …All the skype calls for the day were over…We settle in quietly and talking tom gives us company…One thing leads to another and Abhi and I are on a giggle train…I am hugging him, swinging him, kissing him ..and I said “I love uuuuu”…and we chase each other around the couch for the next 5 minutes. Then suddenly Abhi is looking at me with his sweet few toothed grin and says…”Aeeeeiooooo”…It was the most beautiful moment….Most endearing…

My lil son just told me his first “I love you”…i think :) ..Dear dear crazy world, I am ready for you again!!

Tech-plosion!

Have you grown up feeling annoyed when your grandparents or parents comment on how things were in those days as opposed to now? Many a day have I gotten mad at my mom for making an ‘unjust’ comparison of things when she started out as “andha kaaluthala” (translated to: in those years).

But…………………………….

Is it just me or did we just explode into a new universe…

Reminiscing through my childhood, didn’t we look forward to the Disney cartoons on Sunday morning and weren’t we excited when TV opened up He-Man, Shazam, Glo worms and Tom&Jerry. Giant Robot was the coolest thing ever and StreetHawk was super uber-cool. Cable TV was strictly prohibited till we got into college. So I did live off Doordarshan and Channel 2 was by itself a bonus. Chitrahaar and Super Hit Muquabla was our music destination and our cassette collection was the treasured hobby. Now we are bombarded with a plethora of options, 24 hour cartoon channels, unlimited music downloads, online, streaming blah blah blah..and we need google and bing to help us through the options. We have tons of remotes to keep track of and tons of buttons in them that justify an extra thick manual. BTW, everything comes with a manual these days, even my son’s toy telephone. When Abhi was born, B commented on how a ‘user-guide’ would be handy. That’s us geeky confused new parents for you folks! Anyways I digress….Technology rubs on everyone.. My mom was super thrilled to watch her Zee soaps on DVR where she could rewind and hear the dialogues without missing them. B’s ears were up in smoke as he lost out his ‘24’ slot to the re-runs of ‘Pavitra Rishta’ but nevertheless. Technology has its pros and cons :)!!

My first home computer which was seen as an extravagant purchase by a seemingly money-indifferent younger generation justified only and only by the fact it was being used for my GRE preparation. Having a 20GB Pentium 2 processor was a huge step (BTW, I think the P2 had the shortest life span in the market and was the in-thing at that narrow moment of time). I had to make sure a technical looking screen was always up and my skills at Alt-Tab were good to make sure my dad was convinced that the computer was being put to ‘good use’. We also had rationed hours on the computer. ”Romba use panna kettu poidum” (Loosely translated: It will go bad if used for too long). Same was stated for the telephone. I would place my electronics and communications books and swear on the education I received that the telephone wouldn’t wear out with longer hours of talking..:)..No..i am just kidding, my parents knew that, it was more of discipline thing for them. My friends knew these and stuck to me in thick and thin even with no talking :D.I love you all :D! Anyways I won’t generalize. I was brought up in a stricter home with more rules than average. …But in hindsight, I would have a liked a cell phone then, it would have certainly been handy :)…but those were ‘those days’.

I didn’t have my first cell phone till I started looking for jobs in grad school. Bought one of those free after rebate ‘bricks’ which btw has stood the test of time …Brick it is ..solid and strong even now..Drop it, dunk it in water..it still works ;)! I educated myself on the coolness of Iphones and ‘smart’phones from the younger kids back home when I visited India.

Much as I was aware of a constant generational shift, my prof in grad school once calls me home for dinner and in a conversation with his wife, I slip on my own ice. She told me she didn’t have a cell phone even then and I opened my mouth wide enough for the world to be seen and quipped “what would you do if you car breaks down in a highway, how do u manage without a cell phone”. “How did we manage, all these years, when there were no cell phones?” she quipped, jamming my mouth shut and went to explain those blue pillars that I never bothered to look closely were call phones on the highway.

Tech Industry creates luxuries, makes us believe that we can’t live without them and eventually we all need them. Oh yes, they make life a lot simpler for us. Being right in the tech world, I support their noble objective “Necessity is not the mother of invention…Invention is the grandmother of necessity”. All of us have fallen in love with the change. B handed the Iphone to an endlessly-crying son as a new dad and looked up and said “God bless Technology” when that calmed him down instantly.

Yes, God bless technology indeed. I couldn’t have imagined so much information being available right in my lap in my early school years. I went over endless magazines collecting info and scrapbooking aspiring to be an interior designer some day. Well, that didn’t happen, but I can’t imagine submitting even a half decent thesis if it involved tearing down a library searching for information instead of googling it.

This information explosion also results in greater awareness as the generations’ progress and greater comfort with the increased awareness. Which may be good or bad..i don’t know! Right out of a college…I went to a particularly queasy movie with my friend, her sister and her sister’s college friends. I ended up watching the movie feeling more uneasy and squeamish than the kid sister and her friends all 4-5 years younger than me. I also realized these kids were way smarter than I was at their age. They all planned their future much more than I did and understood the choices in front of them. Thanks to the wealth of information available right in front of them, they didn’t jump and hope to land on their feet :)! Anyways we never stop learning, even if it’s from people younger than us!!!
In our parent’s eyes, we also sometimes fell as overconfident, confused kids with an attitude. My dad was a bit confused when two colleagues of mine from an Indian company where I briefly worked came home and discussed in detail on the x-figure salary that they so much deserved 6 months after college. To him, it took years to get there…’Appa, its all bcos of conversion currency, Suddenly our salaries look to have scaled much more’ I mention, as he pulls me aside. Anyways, I do think our perceptions have gotten modified a bit too in the process and our parents do find us insensitive to their spending habits. When parents come over and quiz you on how much you pay for produce (not as a whole, each one of them I mean), it threw light on my ignorance. It’s a card driven world, so much that it’s impossible to find a single men’s wallet that has room for change.

I love how dads and grand-dads have upgraded themselves to Mac and get into the Mac-PC debates. The Kindled grand-dads reading ‘Ponniyin Selvan’ off their recent handheld reader win my admiration. They have transitioned gracefully into this whole new cyber driven world. What could be more classic than the grocer (read maligai kadai karan) next to my home promoting his new online website for door-delivery and how I can go on a ‘church-engine’ to find it!! Honestly, I was more amazed than amused. But that’s a classic exhibit of how far we have come.

My son has held an Iphone since he was 3 months old. He has since then used it as a teether, a white noise machine, a music system, he has made calls to several people (including Amex and a recent one to my boss) and he has figured his way around with the apps… and I wonder if I am going to tell him a story one day “Once upon a time, when there was no internet….”..There shall be times when I am appalled at what he says and have the urge to go “Andha kaalathula….”

Amma shall be laughing out loud somewhere in my head when I do so!! Life comes a full circle!

Ahh Damn!!! I am growing old :(!

Wo’Me’n and Machines!

Machines and I have had a love-hate relationship. I love how they run my life making it so much easier for me. I hate feeling helpless when they let me down. My friend and I once tried to repair a wet grinder, the motivation being home-made-dosas-on-a-budget. We ended up with a couple of bruises and scratches plus a dented grinder. Not to mention the urad dal missiles that fired around while testing it. I keep writing a note to self “Don’t even try things you are not good at” …but again, maybe I should get it tattooed in my hand or something, so that I remember.

Is this something fundamental in women…or is it just me :)…No offense at all, if you are one of those girls that figured these things out, I downright admire you, want to be you…it’s just probably going to take me more than just effort to get there. I initially got admitted into Mechanical Engineering…And am thanking the heavens that I switched into Electronics eventually. Would I have failed as a mechanical engineer, or would I have battled and survived it is one of those questions that will never get answered. I was never the girly-girl sorts who can’t stand a little grease on their hands. I think most girls with a brother don’t end up being that. I wasn’t the tomboy types either. I can hold a spanner or a hammer and even do a decent job with some assembly stuff…But there it ends…When it comes to actual machines, vehicles I have a brain-freeze. My problem hasn’t been so much with my outlook to doing these things as much as it’s about my ability to do it. Hence it’s my perception that there is some built in gender superiority when it comes to having the “iron-thumb” as I call it.

My dad is an engineer and he is one of the most hands on person that I know. Though a mechanical engineer by profession, he would try to fix every electrical and even electronic issue we had at home. I grew up helping him fix fans, fix the bore well, even try fixing the TV and spent hours listening to him talk about engines. Lots of times, it would whoosh over my head, but I would just listen. When he served at the IAF, he made sure that the fighter jets and helicopters were cleared for flying. He looks at the stuff that I do, and he thinks it’s cool..I think what he did was far cooler, interesting and challenging.

My brother got those genes…I missed them. My brother and I opened up the tape recorder as kids. After putting it back together, he slipped the seemingly “extra screws and random stuff” into his pocket. I would eye that tape recorder suspiciously after that wondering when it would break. He would always be so confident that it will still work while I was amazed it was still working. It’s all perspective I think.

My son has got his grand-dad’s genes for sure. I was busy fixing the shelves at home and he sprinted and grabbed the pencil lying on the floor and stuffed it into every hole in the wooden plank and started turning it around. He seemed to enjoy it so much! Grand-dad will be so proud!

As for me, I think that part of my brain didn’t develop much. I worked in a university fab with these huge furnaces and stations and would feel so insecure when something broke down. My Russian friend and lab mate used to say “Priya, just learn how to pull apart a car and put it together, you will learn anything”…I was totally awed and intimidated..Again this was not a guy who said that to sound cool. I have actually seen him work with his old car and with the furnaces that broke down in the lab. I would most intently slurp into my coke in the hope of catching a few extra minutes to think anything even remotely intelligent to say when he asked me questions as we(he) fixed the things.

So why suddenly am I thinking about this…. I was talking to my neighbor and he is thinking of buying a plane. OK, not even just that. “You can get a kit for a single seater private plane for 20 grand and you can build it”...he tells me. My mouth still wide open…, “Where will you park it” I ask like a meek kid. “At the Hangar of course”, he quips and I feel silly for even asking. I just couldn’t resist having the mental image of my accord parked next to a plane :) !! And he is taking pilot training now. And he is that absolutely down to earth and simple software engineer who is pursuing his passion. I instantly admired him for that. Fixing a plane from a kit….really!!!! ..And having the guts to sit inside it and fly it requires both competence and confidence.

After that conversation, I went home inspired to fix Abhi’s orange-berry toy. He loved it till it worked and now sits by it and presses the buttons hoping to hear something. I feel sad for him. If my neighbor can build a plane, I can repair Abhi’s toy. I will start with small baby steps and one day will get better :) ! So I get to it. Brought my tool kit and readied myself for the project…

B always tells me I pull a bazooka at a mosquito..He says that for different reasons. But now it sounded so appropriate. Huge tools, little toy, focused mom, anxious son, amused grand-dad.

After 2 hours of meddling around..with constant running commentary from appa of-course..Abhi came and patted the toy gently and sympathetically, pressed its buttons and looked at me…the verdict was out…

I try not to fall bang in the middle of such clichés but honestly for me, it’s like having two left feet and trying to dance. Pulled out my scribble pad from the handbag and started writing “To buy: Onions, cilantro, milk, new blackberry toy for Abhi!!”

Every artichoke has a tender heart

I have never had an artichoke till now..At the grocers, I have looked at it and wondered what to even make of it and put it back right where it belonged…the shelves. I don’t know of any Indian cooking that uses it..I am no expert..but having seen both my mom and my mom-in-law giving it a suspicious stare, I am sure they weren’t acquainted either..

So a friend of mine comes in with a suggestion. ”Let’s make an artichoke custard"..Custard ??!!? My eyes pop out.. :S !!.I have taken risks in life..But this is one I really wouldn’t want to...I just blurted out a few minutes earlier to her, that I am open to exploring new cuisines to get Abhi interested in food and wished so much now that I could have taped my mouth shut. She leaves the bag of artichokes at my counter and steps out with my son.

I eye this curious vegetable (or fruit ??!!? I thought we made custard with fruits!). It looked so prickly and harsh... Custard really!! With you?? I make nice warm paneer paratas for Abhi and he doesn’t seem to get interested in food...And we are going try to make artichoke custard to get him excited. It just seems soooo wrong!

The afternoon tryst with the artichoke was something to remember. So it was me, my friend and our little sous-chef trying to make artichoke custard. Abhi was interested in playing with this curious vegetable. He liked to hold it with the stem and bang it on the fridge door. Was he thinking "If I could just smash you, then these two women would spare me from eating u" ..My dad comes by the kitchen and I hear him murmur to himself "Custard? Custard?" in disbelief as he steps out ...A few min later, he comes back...”U are making this only for kuzhandhai right? “looking very concerned...And then he tells me, "I feel like taking a long walk" and walks out of the door. Lucky You!! Appa…

I looked at this abandoned vegetable (I am still trying to wrap my head around how to drop u in custard)...but nevertheless I am more sympathetic now. A friend calls in and while in conversation reminds me of my last post on how I should give the imperfect thing a chance, laughs out loud and hangs up....What timing...Me and my big mouth I think!! This is why I shouldn’t be writing philosophy!! This is y I shouldn’t be writing at all...

Then it gets even better, she pulls out a spinach bunch...And I am pretending to make something good with it hoping to distract her from her “main dish”. She goes “Nooo, this is for the custard”…Huuunhh!!??!! First it was artichoke and then its spinach and we are making custard ?! ? By now I am almost at her feet begging “I will make amends for any mistake of mine…Why ….why are we doing this..and why abhi…poor little thing, what did he do, cant u see his innocent little face ” …Its almost like she read my mind. “Priya, don’t worry, it’s made with salt not sugar” and she smiled at me like my main concern was addressed. “Why do we call it custard?”..I innocently ask..; “A custard doesn’t have to be sweet..You have savory custards, it’s like a quiche and we shall bake it” she quipped.

What’s in a name...u may ask..A name is everything. A name is an identity and if your identity just got switched a 180o, then it’s not a good thing. Thou shalt not be a custard to me ….In my mind, a custard has fruits and is not baked…Thou shalt never be custard to me.. Thou shalt be a quiche….And I closed my heart and moved on..We dropped in butter, cheese, eggs, nutmeg, and spinach. Then we were going through the motions of peeling off the leaves in the artichoke and fuddled with the soft and squishy inside when my friend mentions “Every artichoke has a tender heart…Its almost like a person…rough on the exterior, soft inside”. A giggle slipped out of me …the kitchen is such a great place for philosophy…if only we didn’t have to eat all of them.

So what happened at last….Yes, a spinach-artichoke-cheese-quiche came out of the oven..I couldn’t tell where the artichoke was..It was like me searching for the ladys-finger in the tiramisu. It wasn’t bad, but it wouldn’t find its way into my favorite dishes either …Abhi couldn’t care less..he bit into it, squished it with his hand and rubbed it all over the high chair and was ready to play. My dad was so relieved that no one forced him to eat it and passed on an empathetic stare to Abhi. It was a funny evening in hind sight and I learnt something. That custard is not always sweet and an artichoke is like a person – hard on the outside, with a tender heart inside. And I shall not make fun of it ever again…In this post, yes !! but no …never again :)

Give me a chance!

Have you ever felt that you didn’t get that one chance to prove it to someone you were worth it...?

A couple of weeks ago I was at my wits end with getting my son to adjust to his daycare. The inconsolable crying broke me, but I tried being strong. I would walk out trying not to look back, drive an extra loop to calm myself down, tell myself it will all work out and pull into work. But then he fell sick all the time and I was done with long doses of antibiotics one after another. I had to pull him out every time he fell sick. And getting any work done with a crying sick child was impossible. I was in a new job and there is not too much room for slack. I needed a solution….I started a nanny search again, interviewed people ..but nothing really worked out. It’s hard to hire someone to take care of this little person u love so much by just pruning through the paper resumes. Some of the best sounding resumes were just examples of good writing abilities….

Then I found this girl...She didnt have a strong resume, but she had a unique circumstance, and she connected so well with him. She didn’t come with the pre-requisites I had in mind for the ideal person. B & I talked to her and just as much as we liked her at the outset, we had an equal sense of apprehension again because of her unique story and how different she was from what we sought. There appeared to be something genuine and sincere about what she said, but I really couldn’t put a finger on what that was. It was a decision that was left to me. Everyone decided to trust my judgment, while I didn’t. My instinct asked me to go with her, my head wouldn’t agree with the decision. There was fear that it would be the wrong decision for me, for my little love. But as much as I wanted to judge and evaluate her, I also wanted for her to succeed.

If we could decide everything for ourselves with just logic and reason, life would be so much simpler, so much more robotic and more predictable. But its when the heart rules the head, life is spontaneous. Yes, to all the men from Mars ..I am one of those women from Venus and happy being that way. I was born with brains and I do use them...but it just doesnt win every battle. :). After several hours of brooding over the next couple of days, i decided to give her a chance. It was purely a decision based on my instinct.

Now, she is trying hard..harder than usual to keep me happy. More important than anything else, my little baby feels happy with her. She expresses her gratitude in several ways everyday for giving her a chance. And that gets me thinking about the people that have given a chance, an opportunity at several points when I probably wasn’t shining at my best and how I continue to walk that extra mile for them...and of the times when i missed that one chance that I really wanted so much. Whatever be the context, giving someone a chance is a risk you take for yourself or your firm or whatever it is that they have control over. And it may not always work out, but sometimes I think we should also set aside our impulse to seek out that perfect and ideal solution for us and give the seemingly imperfect solution a shot. It might teach us something and that lesson is worth it.

Don’t get me wrong…I am not advocating going with impulsive decisions, but sometimes and just once in awhile, we have to give someone who doesn’t present that perfect picture, a chance...and who knows, we may be pleasantly surprised at how happy we would be with it.

The tiny sapling that finds its way out of a concrete floor is the chance that nature gives it to live...

I may be wrong...don’t take me seriously if you think differently….This is just a random scribble on the wall :)