“Could’ve, Would’ve, Should’ve

 

            We have a defunct hot tub out back that forced me over the last few months to go through a “could’ve, would’ve should’ve” routine. Calls to several removal companies for bids left me questioning spending a lot of money to remove something because a part of me then feels like I’m not gaining anything but space. The cost, too, would make a huge dint out of the funds I’d allocated for my yards and gardens. I could open up the space, but it would remain an ugly, empty space until next year.
            In a more secure financial year, I would’ve replaced the hot tub with a new model. I would’ve shopped around and indulged in something new and fancy. The decrepit hot tub would’ve been carted away as part of the purchase deal. Of course, I would’ve taken on a new debt, too, at a time when job security and economic safety seems uncertain.
            So I settled on my “should’ve” possibilities. I should view the decrepit hot tub with a different eye. Further research showed how to convert it into a raised garden, a lounge area, or even a pond. Although these ideas should fit into our budget easily, I decided to dive into the easiest option—storage! Like most people, we have items that we don’t use, but may eventually need. When we replaced our floors with tile, we had several boxes left over that shifted from the garage to being stored under an old desk covered with tarps. Various art projects left us with wood and cuts of PVC. I dove under the tarps of two old desks to reveal odds-n-ends that we don’t use frequently, but still want to keep.  
            I should’ve known that this solution—storage-- turned into a simpler task than all of the other possibilities. I cleaned the hot tub interior, hauled and organized various items into its wells, and barely tapped into the space. As I clean, clear, and shift items from the garage and various bins out back, I’ll reorganize with an eye of shifting things into the hot tub.
            I should’ve known that sometimes the most obvious solution is the best one. My ugly hot tub received a much need coat of paint and we covered it with a new tarp to keep it water tight. Instead of removing it, or replacing it, we’re embracing it.

 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman        

 

           

"If You Can't Say Somethin' Nice"

           Remember Thumper’s Rule? My parents singsong of “If you can’t say somethin’ nice, say nothin’ at all” resounded through our household enough that the line from Bambi entrenched itself into my personal philosophy. I admit, this life paradigm proved difficult for me to follow. My too quick and sharp tongue often engages in slicing and dicing a victim before my better, gentler brain kicks into gear. If I make it through the day without saying something caustic or sarcastic, it’s a major victory for me.

            Whenever I start a new journal, I move first to the last page. I write down personal goals that I can easily flip to daily if necessary. My current journal’s final page carries this reminder:  Be generous. Be gracious. Be gentle. 

            During the last few years, I’ve begun to wish everyone adopted this mantra, or one similar to it. Wouldn’t it be grand if our culture sought generosity in how we treated our children, elderly, and impoverished? Imagine if all of us embraced kindness and courtesy as easily as we slip into derision and division; and gentleness grew naturally from each family and sprouted from neighborhood to city to country to world.

           Ugliness taints our daily news. A foul stench wafts through our society that makes me ashamed because I don’t know how to change things. If I contribute to the maliciousness, I mire myself in the hate.

          If I follow Thumper’s Rule, and say nothing at all, my silence implies agreement.

         I must balance my words and write my thoughts in ways that dispute what’s evil while not using vileness to defend humanity. The battle plays out daily in my mind. Be generous. Be gracious. Be gentle.

          Perhaps I need to add one more—Be resolute.

Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman