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Auto Maintenance Lessons from Dad
Something Dad did—something I didn’t fully appreciate until after he was gone—was keep one master log book for all of his equipment. Cars. Lawn mowers. Snow blowers. Weed wackers. Anything with an engine had a place in that book.Inside, he recorded all the important details: the make and model, the type of oil it required, when it was last serviced, and the work that had been done. Oil changes weren’t guesses. Maintenance wasn’t reactive. Everything had a history, written down in his careful handwriting.
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Auto Maintenance and the Dipstick Disaster
Auto maintenance. Wow, now this is a subject that is totally out of my league. In my marriage, the vehicles were men’s work, that being Art. I never even put gas into my car, washed it, detailed it, or did whatever needed to be done to keep it functioning (most of the time). -
The Jaguar That Went Boom
My husband loved flashy cars. After his Acura died from driving back and forth to Milwaukee every day, he had his eye on a great-looking 2009 Jaguar sedan. It was cherry red and in pristine condition. He drove by the car at a local dealership every day. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He went in and negotiated a deal for his dream car. -
The Carpeting That Killed My Cat
A long, long time ago, I lived in Northern California. All my life, I had enjoyed having pets, but at that point, I was away from home all day, working full-time. It didn’t seem fair to have a dog waiting inside the house alone for so many hours.Around that time, one of my customers stopped by and mentioned that her mama cat had just given birth to a litter of eight kittens. She showed me a picture, eight tiny black kittens nestled together in a big basket, each wearing a little red bow around its neck. I stopped by that afternoon to see them in person and, as you might imagine, fell head over heels in love. They were all solid black, glossy as satin, and completely irresistible.
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Growing Older With Frustration
When I put on an angry face, it’s not because I’m angry. When I put on this face, I am usually frustrated. My greatest frustrations are with myself. I ask myself deprecating questions like: Why am I so clumsy? Why can’t I remember to do this process correctly? How many times do I have to do a thing before I finally do it the right way? More often than not, the person I’m most frustrated with… is me.As I grow older, I find myself bumping into frustration more often than I ever expected. I recently returned to work in the banking profession, a field I’ve known for most of my life. Yet the tasks that once felt instinctive now leave me wondering what on earth has happened to the muscle memory I used to rely on. It’s as if my brain occasionally misplaces its reading glasses and then pretends it never owned a pair.
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The Tangles That Shaped Me
When I was in junior high school, I found myself standing at a quiet crossroads that no one else seemed to notice. On the outside, I was just another kid trying to survive algebra class and navigate the middle school schedule. But inside, I already felt the tug of two very different paths. I seemed to be the daring one of the family, you know, “The Black Sheep”. I always wanted to do the undesired activity to prove that I could and would do what I wanted. -
Disaster Houston Style
In the mid-1970s, I relocated to Houston, Texas. I had never set foot in Texas before. This was my first experience living in a big city, and I found it both intimidating and exciting. I interviewed with several banks and was offered a position with Houston Citizens Bank and Trust, located right in downtown Houston. I was thrilled with myself for landing a job so quickly.After adjusting to the roaches that emerged from the faucets and scurried back into the walls the moment I turned on the kitchen light, I slowly settled into my new surroundings. My biggest challenge, however, was the ever-changing weather.
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From Price Tags to Priceless Moments
When I was young, I always thought that wealthy people were the ones with fancy cars and a nice house.I had two friends in my neighborhood who always appeared to be very wealthy in my mind’s eye. They were the girls who always had the nicest clothes, took dance lessons, piano lessons, and were always going on family trips. I would often hear my dad say things like, “If things don’t pick up, meaning sales, I am going to have to sell pencils on a street corner because, being a salesman, and times were slow, this was his way of letting us all know that he was sort of worried. He never had to sell pencils on a street corner, but it certainly left an impression on me. The fact of the matter was, when I now go past the old homestead, I realize that it was our house that was most impressive.
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Wealth Is in the Moments
As a kid, I always knew we were rich.
Opening presents on Christmas morning usually took over an hour — partly because Santa went a little overboard, but mostly because Lisa opens presents slower than molasses in January.Every Easter, we practically got a new spring wardrobe — new shorts and shirts for summer, maybe some outdoor toys, sandals, and a few nice outfits. It always felt like a seasonal upgrade — trading static-filled sweaters for flip-flops, mosquito bites, and the sweet smell of fresh-cut grass.
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Was It Fate, or Just a Yes?
When it comes to the idea of our lives being controlled by Fate, I have very mixed emotions. Some of my friends shrug and say, “Stuff happens,” as if life is completely out of their hands. Another one of those phrases is “It is what it is,” again implying that we’re ruled by fate. I’ve always had a hard time with that idea.I believe our consequences come at the end of a process that begins with our thoughts. What we think about shapes how we feel. Those feelings lead to actions, and our actions create results. In Catechism class and Sunday School, I was taught that we’ve been given the gift of free will, the ability to choose our own path. It’s those choices that determine how our lives unfold.
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When Fate Said “No”
There are moments in life when fate doesn’t announce itself with a sign or a sudden revelation. It arrives quietly, almost unnoticed, nudging us away from one path and toward another. I believe that’s what happened to me during one of the most difficult chapters of my life.When my father passed away, the world around me felt different, not just emotionally, but in how uncertain everything suddenly seemed to change. Grief has a strange way of rearranging your priorities. Things that once felt urgent or important no longer carried the same weight. Around that same time, a job transfer was presented to my husband. He had been in a manager training program, and this was the kind of offer where you periodically get transferred to other cities. On paper, it was the next logical step. It promised more pay, more responsibility, and the kind of advancement most people work years to achieve.
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Sunday, Time to Reflect and Reconnect
Sundays have a rhythm all their own. They mark both an ending and a beginning, a soft pause before the rush of another week. Depending on the season, they can be a doorway to something new or a gentle reminder to wrap up what’s unfinished.
When I was working full-time, I’ll admit, Sunday nights were my least favorite. No matter how productive I tried to be, the day always slipped away too quickly. By bedtime, I’d feel that familiar twinge of dread. Monday was waiting, and I wasn’t ready to meet it.
As a kid, Sundays had a very different flavor. The day began with church. I loved getting dressed up and sitting with my mom and sisters, listening to the sermon and wondering how it applied to me. Afterward, we’d change into comfy clothes, and Dad would settle into his red recliner for the “game of the day.” Football, baseball, golf, he loved them all. Before long, his interest would give way to a nap, and we’d hear the familiar sound of soft snores coming from his chair.
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A Private Room, Please
When I reflect on the word sickness, I feel that I’ve hardly ever been truly sick. But as I think back, I can see that over the last ten years, I seem to have made up for that. I’ve had a couple of serious illnesses, but I just never chose to consider them life-altering. As a child, I had the usual lineup: chicken pox, measles, mumps, colds, the flu, all those “lovely” little sicknesses that keep life interesting. I especially remember one day in kindergarten, coming home to find a big red sign posted on our front door. It announced that someone inside had a contagious illness and warned others to stay away. At the time, this was a common practice, though not long afterward, that way of announcing illness disappeared.
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Lessons from a Kayak
Life doesn’t hand you a motorboat. Most days, it’s a kayak—one paddle, one person, and a lot of figuring it out as you go.Motorboats are for people who like speed, money, and confidence. Kayaks? Those are for people with balance. Which is exactly why I’ve never set foot in one. I can trip over a flat floor, so climbing into a kayak is basically begging the fish to get a free laugh. Honestly, I’d rather be the one on shore with a chair, a snack, and a towel ready for whoever tips first.
But even from land, I get it. Some days in life feel like gliding across smooth water—work goes well, the house is (mostly) in order, and the current carries me along. Other days? I’m spinning in circles, paddling hard but not making any progress—kind of like trying to juggle work, family, and a house that seems to breed laundry and dust.
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Enthusiasm Makes the Sale
Yesterday, my orthopedic surgeon sold me on something I swore I’d never buy: two new shoulders. And he did it with nothing more than pure, unfiltered enthusiasm.Years ago, when I was trained as a sales trainer, I learned that 85% of any sale comes down to enthusiasm. The same words spoken in a monotone simply won’t get the same results. Yesterday, in that exam room, I got a masterclass in just how true that is.
Several years ago, I began having severe pain in both shoulders. An MRI revealed that my rotator cuffs were irreparably torn. My doctor suggested injections to help manage the pain. The first two rounds, spaced 90 days apart, worked well. But when I went for the third injection, nothing. No relief at all.
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Enthusiasm Without the Fireworks
Some people seem to have a bottomless supply of enthusiasm. They throw themselves into everything — from book clubs to bake sales — with the same wide-eyed excitement a kid has for an ice cream truck. I’ve never been one of those people. My enthusiasm runs on the quieter side. I can enjoy something, appreciate it, even love it, without feeling the need to clap until my hands sting or yell “Wooo!” loud enough for the neighbors to hear.Take the Origami Owl conventions I used to attend. Every year, they’d introduce a few new $5 charms, like a red high heel, a little purse, or a pumpkin, and the room would explode in applause. Women would leap to their feet, squeal, and “ooh” like they’d just been handed the keys to a beach house. The enthusiasm in the room was contagious — at least for some people. I’d sit there smiling politely, thinking, We’re cheering over that? Don’t get me wrong — the charm was cute. But it wasn’t life-changing. I guess my enthusiasm scale for “worth freaking out over” just sits a few notches higher.
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Sleep is a Good Thing
I can only remember a couple of times when I can say I have been truly exhausted.One of those times was during the Christmas Season. This usually causes me a great deal of stress and total exhaustion. I was decorating at the last minute, which is normal for this master procrastinator. My husband was having a social at our house with his meeting buddies. In order for me to create what I thought was “Better Homes and Gardens Holiday Magazine,” I actually stayed up three nights in a row without going to bed or allowing myself to rest in any shape or form. I would not recommend this, as strange things happen to you when you try to go without shuteye. Since I also had to go to work during the day, I decorated all night and continued on my necessary schedule. I can say that I actually started seeing objects in my peripheral vision. To say I was exhausted was an understatement. To start this holiday event, the club that came to my house had a speaker before we were to party. I have never been so tired. I had to use every ounce in my being to stay awake for his speech. What he spoke about, I have no idea. So, don’t try this at any time, as it is very dangerous to your health, taken from experience.
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La Bamba vs. Inhibitions
As a child, I was socially shy, especially around boys and men. I was the youngest of three girls and had only one male cousin, who made me feel awkward most of the time. In school, I was academically strong but painfully quiet among peers. I thrived on giving book reports and presentations, but often withdrew in everyday social situations.Despite my shyness, I could present myself as confident when a situation called for it. I could mentally disconnect from my discomfort and focus solely on the task at hand. Once the moment passed, I would quietly retreat into myself again.
But there’s a strange contradiction in being shy and still craving connection. I always wanted to connect more, express more, and participate more fully; those internal walls held me back.
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Family, My Anchor
My anchor in life has been my family.When I was a minor, I must say that my family anchored me, or at least gave it their all to do so.
As parents, they had a rather difficult job to accomplish this, but they did the best they could, and I feel they did a pretty darn good job. Then, to complete my family and further my grounding, came my two sisters, Kathy and Judy. This family of four was my anchor. I depended on them for my happiness, health, security, and above all, love.
Then, when I became a teenager, I still appreciated my family as those to keep me grounded. At that time, I also met my life partner, Art, and had yet another grounding factor. I must say I depended heavily on these people as my anchor. I had many decisions, such as what direction I would be best fit for in a job, whether or not to participate in school activities, and later on, whether or not to go on to school. Because of these people in my life, my decisions were influenced by them.
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Inherited Anchors
I am a creature of habit—always have been. And it’s not just how we decorate cookies or the way I fold towels (the way Mom taught me, of course). It goes deeper than that. My habits are stitched into the way I live, the things I hold onto, and the way I move through the world. Ninety percent of my home is filled with hand-me-downs: my Great Uncle’s clock, Grandma’s dining room set, Mom and Dad’s bedroom set. To most people, they’re just old things. To me, they’re anchors. They tether me to the people who shaped me, to a way of life that feels solid and familiar. I don’t keep them because they’re trendy or valuable. I keep them because they remind me who I am—and whose I am. -
Prosperity Looks a Lot Like Family
When I first thought about the feeling of being prosperous, I saw it as a money thing. But then I realize that feeling prosperous to me is a feeling of love and respect.I have felt more prosperous when I have positive feedback from friends and relatives. I have six grandchildren, and have felt extremely prosperous when I get loving and positive feedback from them. I have been blessed with having them all residing close in proximity to me, and that has made it possible to have a close relationship with each one of them. It makes me feel extremely prosperous when it is their desire to spend time at Grandma’s, such as sleepovers, shopping trips, picnics, trips to the park, or just hanging out with me.
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Unexpected Guidance
An Operations Manual for LifeI was having an unusually crazy day at the furniture store. Nothing was going as planned, and every decision I made proved to be the wrong decision. It was lunchtime, and I told Michael that I was going to the bookstore. I loved browsing the books and thought I might find something to take my mind off my day. I told him that I needed an “Operations Manual for My Life”. We laughed, and I left.
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Motivated. . . Against My Will
I had a vision. It was called Amway. Who doesn’t want to get rich? Well, friends started to get involved in this new idea to sell the Amway opportunity. They had products that you sold. The key is becoming a member or distributor and recruiting others to do the same. This allows you to build a downline and potentially become extremely wealthy. Once you reach the diamond level, you’ve arrived at your desired destination: wealth without the effort. Your team members, who have signed up under you, are doing the work, and you reap the benefits of their hard work.It’s never framed that way, of course, because who wants to admit that your big dreams might just land you working hard so someone else can get rich?
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Seasons of Me
Some people live for summer. Flip-flops, fireflies, and late-night bonfires. Not me. I mean, summer has its place, usually in the outdoors… with the mosquitoes.For me, the seasons have always felt more like moods than months.
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Anniversary Lessons
Several years ago, I read a magazine article titled “Why Do I Keep Making the Same Dumb Mistakes?” It hit a nerve. I had two failed marriages and one long-term relationship that didn’t work out. That question, Why do I keep doing this?, felt like it was written just for me.So I sat with it.
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Tell the Truth or Else
When Matt was young, I gave him one basic rule: Do not lie to me.If you’ve done something wrong, or are about to do something you know I won’t approve of, be honest, and I’ll work with you. If I disagree, I’ll listen to your reasoning, and chances are, I’ll give you the go-ahead.
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Testing Karma
Karma refers to the principle of cause and effect, where actions have consequences, and positive actions lead to positive outcomes, while negative actions lead to negative outcomes. Examples include a person who helps others often experiencing more luck and good fortune in their life, or someone who consistently yells at others may find themselves in situations where others are unkind to them. -
Gossip Girls
Every Thursday night, the Sidetracked Sisters gather around the table to write. Our stories center on family memories, life lessons, and reflections about where we’ve come from and where we’re going. But before the pens hit the paper, there’s always a bit of catch-up time—a chance to share what’s been going on in our week.Naturally, those conversations often drift to the people closest to us—our kids. And, well, not all of them are thrilled about that.
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Game Night Gone Wrong
Mom and Dad often left my older sister, Sandy, in charge of me. This happened when they had friends to play cards or just to visit. This was often a recipe for disaster. We would stay upstairs, and we were supposed to keep quiet. Since this was usually on a Saturday night, Mom would do my hair before their company came. In those days, doing hair meant washing and setting it on rollers and drying under a bonnet hair dryer. The idea was that the hair do would last for church the next day. -
Hot Mess Moments
Matlin’s Furniture was a family business, and at one time, all the Sidetracked Sisters played a role in the store’s daily operations. To keep us on the same page, we held weekly sales meetings that started half an hour before our regular workday. -
Lessons in Listening
When we moved back to Wisconsin in 1991, we asked my Mom to move in with us. She was 74 years old at the time and had been widowed since she was 55. We could tell immediately that she liked being back with some of her family. Mom never was one to enjoy living alone. We loved having her, especially because our son Matt was only 2 ½. Having her with us gave my Mom and Matt time to be together and to get to know each other. -
Climbing the Wrong Ladder
I am a retired teacher. After stepping away from the classroom, I took two years off—I became a life coach and homeschooled my kids during COVID.
Then reality hit. My husband and I sat down to evaluate our finances. Ouch. I needed to bring in income… immediately.
At that time, I remembered something Craig had once said: “You could NEVER work in a factory.” The challenge had been presented. The gauntlet was laid.I figured, well, I’ll be starting my coaching business soon, and I don’t want to take a temporary job where they’ll actually miss me when I leave. I need a job where I can walk away at a moment’s notice—no strings attached.
The big-box distribution center outside of town was my answer. I applied, got a tour, and was hired within a week. At first, the novelty was fun. I was driving a speedy forklift, trying to “make rate.” I was meeting new people and learning new systems. It was my first job outside of education or hospitality—ever.
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Growth in Progress (Kind of)
I’m 15 years old and I’m begrudgingly awake for the day trying to get ready for school. “Mommmmmmm…. What should I wear today?” I could never make this decision easily. She enters my room while I’m dozing against the doorframe of my closet. “How about this?” as she pulls out a sweater. “Nah – I don’t want to wear that!” I sneer. “Ok – fine. What about this one?” as she picks out a different shirt. “Nah – not that one either.” I again reply. “If you don’t like my suggestions, why did you ask me?” she queries. “Well – now I know what I DON’T want to wear!” I bantered. Mom then left my room, shaking her head. -
Middle School Nightmare
I don’t often remember my dreams. Occasionally, I will take a notebook and set it on my nightstand with a pen to write down snippets of the dream to ponder on later. There is one dream that I have repeatedly. It is the first day of school. I’m in the middle school age group. I’m excited about going back to school after summer break. I enter the school and realize that I haven’t signed up for classes, and I have no idea where to go first. I know I’m supposed to have a locker, but I have no idea where it is. I know that if I can find it, I’ll find the books I need to attend my classes.
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Making It Happen, But Not Always
Self-discipline has been a challenge for most of my life. Its absence has often left me feeling unfulfilled in work, relationships, and how I see myself. I realized early on that I often couldn’t trust my promises to myself. This didn’t become a pattern for me until I was in high school. -
Perfectly Imperfect Discipline
I consider myself a disciplined person. When I have a dream, a goal, or a vision, I follow through on the actions needed to see the end goal.
But I know that a lot of people get stuck in the “discipline is perfection” trap.
On the contrary, I believe that discipline is about consistency. Thinking that you have to be perfect discourages progress and can lead you to giving up when mistakes happen.
This was the case when Craig and I decided to start our family. We started out with infertility work. Lots of doctors visits, expensive drugs, and nasty shots. I committed to driving to Milwaukee several times a week (before work) to make my appointments. And then when that didn’t work, we took a 90 degree turn and decided to adopt. Our journey to Russia was filled with too many ups and downs to recount. The process took 4 years to bring our boys home. But the goal was a family. Not pregnancy. The journey was messy but we succeeded in starting our family.
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Nine Years, One Condo, and Zero Rings
The year was 1976. Chris and I had been together for nine years. We enjoyed each other’s company and were good friends. We shared friends and fun times. Chris had a great sense of humor. He was a disc jockey on the local radio station. He would talk about things we had done together and as he told his story, I could barely recognize it as a place I had been. He was able to make it sound like an enviable experience and one that anyone would like to participate in. -
Managing Expectations
I’ve heard many opinions about the habit of having expectations—some directed inward, others projected onto those around us. I find it more productive to focus on what I expect of myself. After all, I’m the only one I can truly control.Expecting others to behave a certain way often leads to disappointment, unless we’re clear about what we need and willing to accept the outcome, whether or not it aligns with our hopes. Managing those external expectations means making conscious choices about how much we let others’ actions affect us.
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Resilience and Reflection
As I look back on 2024, I can only describe it as a roller coaster—a year filled with moments of joy, deep sorrow, and everything in between. Life had a way of keeping me on my toes, and through it all, I found strength, love, and resilience. -
Small-Town Adventures
People have differing opinions on what it’s like to live in a small town and throughout my life, I’ve had differing opinions myself. When I was little, I loved it. Living in a small town allowed me to ride my bike to Grandma’s house every day in the summer. It allowed me to walk across a major street to the local Dairy Queen for a sweet treat. I felt safe and secure in my little Beaver Dam bubble. -
The Power of Red Nail Polish
As a child, I spent late afternoons during the school year and long summer days with my grandma Is. She wasn’t a teacher by trade, but she taught me what was important through constant example.
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Family Means Everything
Gma Is, Uncle Lloyd and Gma Doris at my wedding Both of my grandmas taught me many life lessons as I grew up and I was so very lucky that they were both with me until I had my own children.
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Lessons from Grandma Bauer
Grandma Bauer and Aunt Hyc My Grandma Bauer was a feisty, loving woman. She came to America from Germany as a young woman. Grandpa Joe also came from Germany. I wish I knew more about their early lives but these are stories I never heard. The first thing she taught me was to be more curious about my relatives because their stories are too important to lose.