Dear Linda:
I loved your column on cruise-ships, but my vacation budget for this year allows only for a rowboat. Got a luxurious but low-cost idea for me and my wife?
Need A Get-Away
Dear Need A Get-Away:
Though an exotic vacation in a far-off place sounds attractive, it's not the only prescription for refreshment and rejuvenation. A change in scenery, attentive service, and someone else in the kitchen can do the trick, so consider a Bed & Breakfast in a town you've never visited.
The home styles are as varied as the locales-rustic cabins in the forest, sumptuous villas in the mountains, and charming Victorians with antique lace curtains and embroidered pillows in quaint little towns are just a few of the possibilities.
Visit www.bedandbreakfast.com (particularly on Wednesdays when it lists hot deals) for information about B&B's in your price and travel range. Then decide if you'll drive and see the country side, or fly to another part of the country or world. Be sure to include in your search any special dietary or housing needs like access for the disabled, vegetarian meals, whether or not pets are allowed, and senior discounts.
Ask the innkeeper if the room has comfortable chairs for reading, there are grab bars in the tub and shower and good lighting, particularly in the bathroom, to prevent falls in the night. If stairs are a problem, request first-floor accommodations, and see if you will have phone and email access.
Rather than choose the least expensive inn, select the least expensive room in a more expensive inn to get the most for your money. The reduced cost in the better inn is generally because it's the smallest room. Typically, however, even it has a queen-size bed and private bathroom, and you'll enjoy the same ambiance and amenities as those paying twice the price.
To further reduce the cost, travel off season (avoid holidays and school vacations) and stay mid-week. Ask for a reduction in price for staying multiple nights, and be flexible. Take advantage of last minute, get-away packages.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Insurance Between Jobs
With double digit unemployment, lots of folks are worried about being able to pay bills, but maybe even worse is having lost health insurance. The cost of a simple doctor's appointment averages $300. Prescriptions are astronomical, and a stint in the hospital can cause bankruptcy and worse.
Know that you may be protected under the Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act (COBRA). Created in 1986 by Congress, this law ensures continuing group health insurance for employees who have lost coverage because of reduced work hours or for termination for any reason other than gross misconduct.
The Act requires employers to allow former employees, retires, spouses, former spouses, and dependent children to continue their current health insurance coverage at group rates. Employers with 20 or more employees for more than 50% of the prior business year must comply. The only employers excluded are the Federal Government and some church groups.
Some states have expanded the provisions mandated by the Federal Government. For example, COBRA guarantees continuing coverage for 18-36 months. The state of Texas allows its citizens an additional six months of protection. You and your employer are governed by the laws affording the greater benefits. Call the United States Department of Labor at 866-444-3272 or visit www.dol.gov for more information.
COBRA is not automatic. You must elect continuing coverage. See your employer’s benefits coordinator or human resource representative for application. Your employer has 30 days within which to notify the COBRA insurance plan administrator. Then you have 60 days after qualifying to elect coverage and 45 days to make the initial payment.
The reason you choose COBRA is because there are alternatives to consider. You might find a more inexpensive health plan (with modified coverage, higher deductibles, and more out-of-pocket payments) through a professional group or organization in which you’re a member or through another health insurance company. Often these are stop-gap policies for applicants in good health with no preexisting conditions. Call the Texas Department of Insurance at 800-252-3439 for guidance.
Know that you may be protected under the Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act (COBRA). Created in 1986 by Congress, this law ensures continuing group health insurance for employees who have lost coverage because of reduced work hours or for termination for any reason other than gross misconduct.
The Act requires employers to allow former employees, retires, spouses, former spouses, and dependent children to continue their current health insurance coverage at group rates. Employers with 20 or more employees for more than 50% of the prior business year must comply. The only employers excluded are the Federal Government and some church groups.
Some states have expanded the provisions mandated by the Federal Government. For example, COBRA guarantees continuing coverage for 18-36 months. The state of Texas allows its citizens an additional six months of protection. You and your employer are governed by the laws affording the greater benefits. Call the United States Department of Labor at 866-444-3272 or visit www.dol.gov for more information.
COBRA is not automatic. You must elect continuing coverage. See your employer’s benefits coordinator or human resource representative for application. Your employer has 30 days within which to notify the COBRA insurance plan administrator. Then you have 60 days after qualifying to elect coverage and 45 days to make the initial payment.
The reason you choose COBRA is because there are alternatives to consider. You might find a more inexpensive health plan (with modified coverage, higher deductibles, and more out-of-pocket payments) through a professional group or organization in which you’re a member or through another health insurance company. Often these are stop-gap policies for applicants in good health with no preexisting conditions. Call the Texas Department of Insurance at 800-252-3439 for guidance.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
A Forever Valentine
Below is a riveting letter to my column that I love to rerun at this time of the year.
Dear Linda:
My wife and I have been married for over 50 years. Valentine's Day is coming, but we're on a fixed income and splurging isn't possible. I can't think of anything that fits our budget but is special enough to show the love of my life how much I care.
From,
Wanting to be Romantic.
Dear Wanting to be Romantic:
Your desire alone to show your wife how much you love her says a great deal about you and why you have a successful marriage. Most women long to feel cherished and rarely is that about what's bought or how much is spent. Thought and effort make a woman feel valued.
Write her a love letter. Chronicle the wonderful times in your marriage, describe the qualities that make her extraordinary, and thank her for all she's done to make your life special. Persoanlize the salutation with an endearment and close with a promise of enduring love.
Use special stationary, spray it with cologne, and put it on her pillow so she will find it in the morning. Your words will be a blessing then and a comfort in the future whenever she rereads it.
Tell her you've planned the day--an outting to a fair, free art show or historical museum, a concert in the park or a drive in the country. Pack a picnic lunch, a thermos of hot chocolate or cappuccino, blankets and lawn chairs. Be sure to stop and watch the sunset.
Cook dinner for her. Even if you're not the best chef in the kitchen, simple fare served beautifully will be remembered. Don't forget candles (lots of little ones floating in a glass bowl are romantic), fresh flowers (less expensive bought at the grocery store), and music you can dance to afterward. Have her favorite movie to watch together and hold hands.
You will have orchestrated a day she will never forget, and said "I love you" with your every action.
Dear Linda:
My wife and I have been married for over 50 years. Valentine's Day is coming, but we're on a fixed income and splurging isn't possible. I can't think of anything that fits our budget but is special enough to show the love of my life how much I care.
From,
Wanting to be Romantic.
Dear Wanting to be Romantic:
Your desire alone to show your wife how much you love her says a great deal about you and why you have a successful marriage. Most women long to feel cherished and rarely is that about what's bought or how much is spent. Thought and effort make a woman feel valued.
Write her a love letter. Chronicle the wonderful times in your marriage, describe the qualities that make her extraordinary, and thank her for all she's done to make your life special. Persoanlize the salutation with an endearment and close with a promise of enduring love.
Use special stationary, spray it with cologne, and put it on her pillow so she will find it in the morning. Your words will be a blessing then and a comfort in the future whenever she rereads it.
Tell her you've planned the day--an outting to a fair, free art show or historical museum, a concert in the park or a drive in the country. Pack a picnic lunch, a thermos of hot chocolate or cappuccino, blankets and lawn chairs. Be sure to stop and watch the sunset.
Cook dinner for her. Even if you're not the best chef in the kitchen, simple fare served beautifully will be remembered. Don't forget candles (lots of little ones floating in a glass bowl are romantic), fresh flowers (less expensive bought at the grocery store), and music you can dance to afterward. Have her favorite movie to watch together and hold hands.
You will have orchestrated a day she will never forget, and said "I love you" with your every action.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Sharing the Load
I have two friends going through terrible times. They call to talk, to commisserate, to question. Why did this person leave, why did this person stop loving, how am going to face being alone, how do I start over? I no longer have the answers to the really tough questions in life.
In my twenties, I was sure I knew everything, but I hadn't really been tested yet. My parents, whom I thought were pretty naive and uninformed during that time, miraculously became brilliant in my thirties when I was no longer sure I had all the answers. It was not until my forties that even the questions became illusive, much less the answers to them.
In my fifties, I stopped asking the huge questions and just did the best with the day before me. The big picture had become less consuming.
In my sixties, I've learned that there is really only one important question and that we all struggle with it until the day we die; that all the rest of the seeming important issues and questions are truly superflouous.
What is the issue that is so monumental? What propels all our actions and choices; what is the core question we ask from the moment we're able until the day we die?
It is: do I have value and am I valuable enough to be loved?
And don't we go through a lot of contortions to find out?
And isn't it from others that we seek the answer?
I know that we say it shouldn't matter what others think or how they feel about us, but isn't it their reflection and their treatment of us that makes us feel either valued and loved, or not?
Don't we all want a witness to our life, a cheerleader for our efforts, and an encourager when we struggle? Don't we all want and need to be loved?
And so I give my love to my family members and my friends in the best way that I can. I validate their experience, empathize with their feelings, and bolster their self-esteem whenever I can. I can't really give them answers because I don't have them. I can only give them my love and encouragement.
I think the story below is a good example of giving what we can to help others.
Two Men
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every after noon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by the activity and color of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the man couldn’t hear the band, he could see it clearly in his mind’s eye.
They shared these moments over the days and weeks that passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside that his dear friend had so beautifully described. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside his bed. It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased friend to describe such wonderful things outside the window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not have even seen the wall. She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”
Despite our own situation, there is tremendous solace and joy in making others happy. It is true that shared grief is half the sorrow, and that happiness, when shared, is doubled.
In my twenties, I was sure I knew everything, but I hadn't really been tested yet. My parents, whom I thought were pretty naive and uninformed during that time, miraculously became brilliant in my thirties when I was no longer sure I had all the answers. It was not until my forties that even the questions became illusive, much less the answers to them.
In my fifties, I stopped asking the huge questions and just did the best with the day before me. The big picture had become less consuming.
In my sixties, I've learned that there is really only one important question and that we all struggle with it until the day we die; that all the rest of the seeming important issues and questions are truly superflouous.
What is the issue that is so monumental? What propels all our actions and choices; what is the core question we ask from the moment we're able until the day we die?
It is: do I have value and am I valuable enough to be loved?
And don't we go through a lot of contortions to find out?
And isn't it from others that we seek the answer?
I know that we say it shouldn't matter what others think or how they feel about us, but isn't it their reflection and their treatment of us that makes us feel either valued and loved, or not?
Don't we all want a witness to our life, a cheerleader for our efforts, and an encourager when we struggle? Don't we all want and need to be loved?
And so I give my love to my family members and my friends in the best way that I can. I validate their experience, empathize with their feelings, and bolster their self-esteem whenever I can. I can't really give them answers because I don't have them. I can only give them my love and encouragement.
I think the story below is a good example of giving what we can to help others.
Two Men
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every after noon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by the activity and color of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the man couldn’t hear the band, he could see it clearly in his mind’s eye.
They shared these moments over the days and weeks that passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside that his dear friend had so beautifully described. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside his bed. It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased friend to describe such wonderful things outside the window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not have even seen the wall. She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”
Despite our own situation, there is tremendous solace and joy in making others happy. It is true that shared grief is half the sorrow, and that happiness, when shared, is doubled.
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