On Sabbatical!

I’m on sabbatical. I have no idea if or when I’ll return. Lucky you!

xox

Nicole

© Nicole Parton, 2021

Pole Dancing, the Dance of the Single Veil, and the Goose

So I had this crackpot idea to hang a piece of blue veil on the back wall of the outside of our house. I bought this piece of blue veil 12 years ago, and all this time, I’ve been wondering what to do with it. Its brushed chrome grommets screamed “curtain,” even if it looked like … So much more. It was a piece of blue veil, full of mystery and intrigue. 

Have you any idea how much brushed chrome grommets cost, these days? Nor do I, but I remember thinking they were pret-ty pricey when I bought this particular piece of blue veil. Moreover, I paid something like 75 bucks to have a turquoise header and tie-back professionally made and sewn to it.

The piece of blue veil was turquoise back then, but the sun faded it, its header, and its tie-back to a blah-ish blue over the three weeks the piece of blue veil hung on the back wall of the outside of our house.

Don’t bother asking why I did this, because believe me, you don’t want to hear the (ir)rationale behind my crackpot idea to hang a piece of blue veil on the back wall of the outside of our house.

On seeing the piece of blue veil on the back wall of the outside of our house, the twice-jabbed Appy People who dropped in for same said: “Why’s a shower curtain hanging on the back wall of your house?” The piece of blue veil is not a shower curtain, thank you very much. 

Never apologize, never explain: Not wanting the Appy People to think I’d had the crackpot idea to hang a piece of blue veil on the back wall of the outside of our house, I glared at Himself with a slight sneer and lip-lift. Let the Appy People draw their own conclusions, I thought. 

Two weeks later, when Dinner Peoples’ eyes slid like eggs in a skillet at the piece of blue veil hung on the back wall of the outside of our house, they tactfully said nothing. Perhaps word from the Appy People had already leaked out, and the Dinner People knew better than to ask.

Had they asked, I planned to nod at the piece of blue veil hung on the back wall of the outside of our house, claiming I was about to perform a tasteful rendition of the Dance of the Seven Veils (minus six) as the evening’s entertainment. 

When we hung the piece of blue veil on the back wall of the outside of our house, I bought a wooden pole Himself painted turquoise to slip through the blue veil’s unaffordable grommets. Maybe I’d say I was also about to perform a tasteful pole dance in addition to a tasteful rendition of the Dance of the Single Veil. 

This afternoon, Himself took down the piece of blue veil on the back wall of the outside of our house, and I bought a metal goose to take its place. 

Standing in line at the hardware store, I told Himself:  “This goose is a piece of crap.” As God and Himself are my witnesses, the guy immediately behind us in the lineup gave two thumbs up, as if to say: “You got that right, lady!” 

When we fetched up at the cash desk, I said: “This goose is a piece of crap. I’m not sure I’ll actually keep it.” Sotto voce, the cashier leaned in over the counter, saying: “This goose is going on clearance in a few days, so why don’t I just give you $10 off now?” 

“Goodie! Please! Please!” I said, without the exclamation marks so I wouldn’t seem too eager. 

So I had $10 off without even asking, and before I knew it, the cashier slammed a big, heavy stamp on my receipt. “Huh?” I thought. It read: NO REFUNDS OR RETURNS ON CLEARANCE ITEMS. 

When we got home, Himself Gorilla-glued the goose’s wings, because they fell off twice in the car. Standing back to semi-admire the goose on the back wall of the outside of our house, I have to admit it really is a piece of crap - but a semi-okay piece of crap, and a whole lot better than a piece of blue veil on the back wall of the outside of our house.

© Nicole Parton, 2021

What I Learned from Quitting Coffee for 30 Days (and why you should try it)

I remain on sabbatical as I continue to work on a book. In the meanwhile, I’m excited to present you with another essay by Cecile Popp, whose work I featured April 2: 

https://whatsonnicolepartonsmind.blogspot.com/2021/04/redefining-abundance-expats-journey.html 

If you like clear, direct, fine writing, this most recent piece by Cecile is a great example - Nicole

The leaves begin to unfurl as soon as the hot water touches them. I watch as the liquid in the glass teapot turns yellow and then, orange. Three minutes later, I have a perfectly brewed cup of tea.

Green tea. I’ve always liked the sound of it, but never actually enjoyed drinking it. Until now.

A few weeks ago, I would have been on my second or third cup of coffee by this time of the morning. For two decades I’ve been the kind of coffee drinker who goes to bed looking forward to her morning cup. I drink mine black and strong, first thing in the morning, hours before breakfast.

I started drinking coffee in my early 20s. An electric coffee maker on the kitchen counter made me feel more “adult.” It became a necessity a decade later when my babies were young and got me out of bed at 5 am.

My grandparents had owned a coffee plantation in Tanzania in the 1930s and ’40s. Subconsciously, I think I believed drinking coffee somehow connected me to them.

The Beginning of the End:

The pandemic has meant added responsibilities, stress, and minimal physical activity. A year in, I was considerably heavier than I’d been when things first shut down. I was tired, but wired. I had aches and pains; brain fog. I was irritable and harried, always working but not productive. I decided to get help and saw a functional medicine practitioner.

After a lengthy initial consultation and lab work, she told me my stress hormones were out of whack. Formerly benign words suddenly sounded scary coming from her mouth: Cortisol, thyroid, insulin. She put me on a 30-day elimination diet. The first thing to go? Coffee.

I was only mildly anxious about cutting out gluten and dairy, refined sugar and alcohol. But it was the coffee I really worried about.

As I’d expected, the first three days were tough. A headache that wouldn’t subside. Sluggishness. Constant hunger. To say those first three days passed slowly would be an understatement. I drew a calendar in the back of a notebook and began crossing out the days. Thirty seemed a long way away.

Shifting Perspectives:

As my body adjusted to no coffee and began to detox, I felt better and started to exercise again. I expected these physical changes.

What I hadn’t expected were the more subtle psychological shifts.

The green tea my doctor had encouraged me to drink had become a delightful ritual - without the frenetic, obsessive, insatiable quality of my coffee ritual. I truly enjoyed my cup of green tea until the end, whereas my coffee ceased to be enjoyable beyond the first two or three sips. I began to wonder whether the reason I had more cups of coffee was to try to recapture the taste of that first sip.

Within the first week, I noticed a growing detachment to my coffee-less mornings. I’d forget to cross off days on the chart, and would check in and discover three more days had passed, just like that!

After 30 days, the most surprising take-away had nothing to do with coffee. Rather, the experience turned out to be about “freeing” myself from something; reclaiming my power.

I showed myself I could make changes and stick to them - even difficult changes. This gave me confidence in myself. Now, I’m looking around for “what’s next?”

Happily Ever After:

The best part of all? I’ve rediscovered my love of coffee - almost as if I’d let it go, and it came back to me. A week ago I had my first post-detox coffee - a strong espresso from a local independent roasting company. The bliss stayed with me for two days.

© Cecile Popp, 2021

Cecile Popp is an educator, writer, lifelong learner, mother of three, Canadian expat living in Turkey. Her YouTube channel is From Canada to Adana. Her essays are at cecilepopp.com/10things/ 

More from Cecile Popp

Follow