Sunday column: Safety first

When it comes to safety, let’s just say that my husband takes it very seriously.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m not complaining; being safe is important. And, it does mean a lot to me that he cares enough about me to always want to make sure I’m safe.
But, he can get carried away.
For as long as I’ve known him, Nick has had a nightly routine of making certain “checks” before he goes to bed. This consists of things like checking that the knob, deadbolt and chain are locked securely on both the front and back doors, checking that the oven and all burners on the stove are off, checking to ensure windows are closed and locked, that kind of thing.
These are all important safety measures no matter where you live or how many valuables your home contains.
And now, in light of the several tragic house fires that recently have happened in our area, Nick has added another check to his nightly routine.
Every night, and it’s usually pretty late because he is a night owl, my husband feels compelled to push the “test” button on our smoke detector. He wants to make sure it still works, he says. I was OK with this the first time, since we hadn’t checked the functionality of our smoke detector. It was a logical thing to do.
But, to check it every night? I don’t find that quite as logical. That sucker is loud, and it can be heard from outside the house. And no matter how much I beg, Nick refuses to not check it. It’s become a compulsion for him.
I can only imagine what our neighbors must think. Please accept this as an apology for my husband, who suffers from a slight case of safety OCD.
I wouldn’t be surprised if his next course of action is to draw out a fire evacuation plan for the two of us. While these are important and necessary for families, when there are two adults living in a small house, evacuation pretty much boils down to “Get out however you can.”
On the road, Nick’s safety mechanisms are just as active. He never, ever speeds and always volunteers to be the designated driver.
Anytime I go somewhere without him, he checks to make sure my cell phone is fully charged and accessible in case I need to call him. And before I walk out the door, it’s always, “I love you. Be safe.”
As amusing as it sometimes is, though, I find Nick’s overactive safety awareness reassuring. Maybe it’s because as a child, I had my own fears of what could happen once the sun went down.
For whatever reason, I went through a period during my childhood in which I was terrified to go to bed at night. I’d lie awake in my bed with my overactive imagination running wild about all the things that could happen during the night. I had one particular fear that the bathroom faucets would be left running all night and the upstairs of our house — where my bedroom was — would flood. Rational? Of course not. But it was a very real fear to me at that time. It was so real that I’d get up periodically to make sure the faucets were tightly turned off.
I’m the one who forced my family to have fire drills and develop a fire evacuation plan. I even begged my parents for a little rope ladder to put in my upstairs room so I could climb out in case of emergency.
Eventually, I suppose I outgrew my irrational nighttime fears. Or at least, I learned to suppress them to the point that I could sleep at night. Living alone for many years, a few times in big cities, really tested my ability to keep my imagination in check. Because, if you let yourself, you can dream up all kinds of scary things that can happen while you’re alone at night. Especially if you’re a young single girl working the night shift at a newspaper.
So maybe it was kismet that I would fall in love with and marry a man with an eye for safety. At least if I know he’s worrying about all those scary things, then I can put my mind at ease.

It was destiny

The other day in the newsroom, we were talking about how journalism is "in the blood" of many of us. When we started talking, I recalled how, after a bout of wanting to be a ballet dancer, I always wanted to be a writer when I grew up. For as far back as I can remember. But as for newspaper work, I couldn't remember specifically wanting to do that.
Then, it hit me. When I was little, definitely in elementary school but I have no idea what age I was, I actually made my own newspaper. I was over at a neighbor's house, and we sat one afternoon drawing out newspaper pages and stapling them together. We probably made eight-10 copies of our newspaper, and then we walked down the street putting them in people's mailboxes.
Thinking back on it, I can just imagine how hilarious it must have been for those people to find a little kid's handmade newspaper stuffed in their mailbox.
Once we told our parents what we'd done — we were so proud — someone, I can't recall who, told us it was illegal to put things in people's mailboxes. I started to panic. Would the mail police find me?
What a funny memory, and one I hadn't remembered for years until we had that conversation at work. Turns out I wasn't the only one who "played newspaper" when I was little. Our sports editor said he used to write sports stories off games he'd watch on TV. Another sports reporter said he'd keep stats for his electric football game players.
Clearly, there is passion for journalism among those of us who do it. It's just too bad that the industry can't support our passion, especially in this day and age.

The sound of home

Although this may not be the greatest photo, it shows a windchime/suncatcher that's special to me. Way back when, in my single days, I ordered a windchime just like this and it followed me from apartment to apartment, city to city for years.
One especially fond memory is when I lived on Louisa Boulevard in Lafayette in an old house that had been turned into three one-bedroom apartments. Mine was set up shotgun-style, and I loved it dearly. Plus, the rent was ridiculously cheap — $415 a month, I believe. I hung the windchime by my back door and could hear it tinkling as I washed dishes (there was no dishwasher) and looked out on the backyard, where my neighbor, a chef, had built a wagonwheel herb garden. Boy, was life simple then. Although, of course, it didn't feel that way at the time.
Anyway, after all those years, my favorite windchime had been bleached out by the sun and I left it to Carolyn after I got married and moved north. I never did find another windchime I liked as much.
Imagine my surprise a week ago when Mom surprised me with a brand new one. I hung it by the front door today, and its gentle chimes have brought back memories and made this place feel a little more like home.

Cold turkey hurts!

So two days ago, I took the advice of the Skinny Bitches and decided to give up coffee. After reading their extensive list of how bad caffeine is for you, you might, too. Since I drink two cups every morning and a cup or two in the afternoon every once in a while, I figured it would be no big deal to simply cut coffee out of my routine.
Boy, was I wrong.
I started this experiment yesterday (Sunday) and have suffered with a nagging headache ever since. This afternoon at work, I finally broke down and had a Diet Coke, which has less caffeine but which the Bitches also disapprove of.
But I was clearly in desperate need of some caffeine, because after about half a can, the headache was gone. So I was headache-free and actually productive for the final two hours of work today. Oh well, it's Monday.
Not one to be daunted, I still plan to eliminate caffeine from my diet, but I've realized I'll have to ease myself into it.
I always knew caffeine was addictive, but I guess I thought I wasn't addicted. Go figure.
So now I'm off to the store to get some half-caf to get me through the rest of the week. Baby steps, right?

Vacation recap

I've got a double case of the Sunday blues tonight, because I'm down to the final hours of my precious vacation. Reality sets in again bright and early tomorrow morning, but tonight I'm reminiscing about my wonderful week of freedom.
Because I'm so Type A, I thought I'd make a list of things I accomplished on my vacation:

1. Rest — I slept when I wanted and blobbed out on the couch when the mood struck. Resting was the No. 1 goal of my vacation, and I'm happy to say I did it!
2. Cleaning — A week off work gave me the time to do the deep cleaning that I just can't make myself do on weekends or after work. Although cleaning is never fun, at least I could do it in bits and spurts throughout the week, rather than wasting an entire weekend doing it.
3. Decorating — Never mind that we've been in the new house for three months now, I finally got around to unpacking the last few boxes (although I will admit, one box remains, but I'm OK with that) and hanging a few things on the walls. It's hard to stay motivated to unwrap knick-knacks and decorate when you move as often as we do, but it does make the place feel homier.
4. Sewing — I finished a project and started another! No photos yet, but I'll post some soon.
5. Trip to Lafayette — Although it was cut short by several factors, we did make it down south and visited family and friends. We even shopped a little! Alas, no king cake. But, my hips are thanking me. We did eat well — very well — while we were there, though.
6. Problem solved — A problem with extremely red and irritated eyes threw a little bit of a kink in my vacation bliss, but happily, by the end of my week, we'd solved the problem. Even though it means forfeiting my contacts (after more than 10 years!) and going back to glasses, I'm OK with it. It was time for me to get a "new look" anyway.

So even though vacations aren't meant for "accomplishing things," I cannot, by nature, allow myself to bum out completely unless I'm on the beach. All things considered, my vacation was a smashing success. The only bad thing is it had to end. Oh, and it wasn't on the beach. Maybe next year. But this time, a stay-at-home vacation wasn't so bad.

This is what happens when we're not at home

Yes, that's Caddy perched on my Southern Living on the kitchen table. Go figure. Nick sneaked up on her to get this picture.

In other news, I am finally taking my well-earned, precious week of vacation! It's been since August 2007 — our honeymoon — since I've had any vacation, so I'm savoring it. Too bad that my boss called me one day into my vacation :( and un-fun stuff awaits me once I get back to the office. Oh well, I'm doing my best to keep those things out of my mind.
A trip to Lafayette should do the trick! We're south-bound today and have no agenda except to visit family and friends and do whatever the heck we feel like doing. We also have a dollar or two to spend while we're there, so I'm really looking forward to it! And yes, I will eat some king cake while we're there!
Although this vacation doesn't involve a trip to the beach, sometimes just messing around at home and resting is a great way to spend a week. So, that's what I'm doing.

How to cure boredom at work

I'll admit, I walked into the first day at work in 2009 not too enthused about starting another year. Even in my business, the daily grind can get monotonous after a little while. So, how could I reignite excitement about the work I spend 40+ hours a week doing?
It occurred to me to take on a project — a yearlong one. Instead of getting depressed and discouraged by the backwoods attitudes I encounter here, I challenged myself to try to change them. After all, I have the perfect platform to educate, inspire and encourage people to do good things. I remembered the power of the pen!
And so, I've started a project that seems to have gotten off to a good start. It's all about "going green," and trying to give valuable (at least, valuable to me) newspaper space to the local people who are making an effort to become more environmentally sensitive.
This isn't a stretch for our paper, which has advocated for water conservation for years.
And you know what I've found already? It's the people with the negative attitudes who are the most vocal. There actually are people right here who are quietly participating in the green revolution. And I can't wait to shine the spotlight on them.
Hey, I think I'm getting a little excited!