The shop has no bathroom. Let me just put that out there first.
I know - I'm obsessed. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be. It just is what it is, I guess.
Anyway, not having a bathroom necessitates a daily, if not more frequent, walk from the shop to our house (which is why we are so determined to live close by). Happily, most of the time, the house is only a block away. There are days, though, when that block feels like miles. And miles.
When I'm at work, our black lab, Carbon, believes firmly that anytime I stand and put on my coat, I am taking her for a walk. Period. There are no exceptions to this rule. So she walks with me and I use one of those "chuck-it sticks" (because I totally throw like a girl - a toddler sized one at that) and she chases the ball all the way home.
Yesterday, I threw the ball and heard her feet thunder past. The first throw is the best as she runs the fastest for that very first ball.
I love that sound.
And it got me thinking.
I've been here for more than a year and while I've spent a great deal of time bemoaning the move and missing my home of 9 years in Oregon, I haven't really praised my current home.
Well, in Oregon, we only had a small yard and we lived in a fairly busy part of town so it was not possible for me to let my dog off leash and let her chase balls. In Alaska, I do it daily and I LOVE the sound of her running.
I love having water just out my front door. I love the reflections on the water, the boats, the calm seas, the rough seas. . . . I just love having water right. there.
I love the wind. We get these gnarly winds that roll off the ice fields and glaciers and blow so hard that I can't breathe.
I love that.
I love watching things blow by in the wind . . . leaves . . . sticks . . . grocery bags . . . small children . . .
Once, when we were kids, my older brother taped cardboard to his arms and the wind picked him up and carried him a foot or two.
I love all the mountains and seeing them slowly morph from summer green to fall gold to winter brown topped with snow. Right now it's perfect; no snow on the ground and just enough on the mountains to make them look interesting and majestic.
I think that's all.
I wouldn't want to overwhelm you with my positivity and gratitude.
But I did want to let you know - it doesn't completely suck up here in the north.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Jinxed Bathrooms
I think I will stop using the restrooms at church; I think they are cursed for me.
In Oregon, many years ago, I went to use the restroom for "full-service" purposes and resulted in a clogged and then overflowing toilet. Nothing like trying to track down a plunger in the middle of a busy Sunday with lots of people around to witness. I tried to pretend like it wasn't really MY fault and I had just discovered the mess, but really? They knew. They. knew.
After that, I always drove home when the need struck. (Thankfully we lived 1/2 mile from the meetinghouse.)
Yesterday, I just had to pee. No. big. deal. When I finished, I put soap on my hand and went to faucet. Here they have the automatic kind where you wave your hand under the spout. No dice. I waved under both faucets, looking I'm sure like a silly ape to the unknowing, but ended up walking down the hall to another bathroom, carrying soap in my left hand the whole time.
Cursed, I tell you! Church bathrooms are cursed!
Either that or cleanliness isn't really next to godliness and I should just skip the handwashing next time....
Oh - and for even more Sunday fun, the lesson in YW was on Optimism.
I know. Very timely.
I swear that I get the message God; living it just isn't as easy as I would like!
In Oregon, many years ago, I went to use the restroom for "full-service" purposes and resulted in a clogged and then overflowing toilet. Nothing like trying to track down a plunger in the middle of a busy Sunday with lots of people around to witness. I tried to pretend like it wasn't really MY fault and I had just discovered the mess, but really? They knew. They. knew.
After that, I always drove home when the need struck. (Thankfully we lived 1/2 mile from the meetinghouse.)
Yesterday, I just had to pee. No. big. deal. When I finished, I put soap on my hand and went to faucet. Here they have the automatic kind where you wave your hand under the spout. No dice. I waved under both faucets, looking I'm sure like a silly ape to the unknowing, but ended up walking down the hall to another bathroom, carrying soap in my left hand the whole time.
Cursed, I tell you! Church bathrooms are cursed!
Either that or cleanliness isn't really next to godliness and I should just skip the handwashing next time....
Oh - and for even more Sunday fun, the lesson in YW was on Optimism.
I know. Very timely.
I swear that I get the message God; living it just isn't as easy as I would like!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Like Daughter, Like Mother
Sunday was the Primary Program. This year marked my last opportunity to enjoy a sacrament meeting without any children by my side. It was lovely.
It was also quite lovely watching all three of them sing and talk. The downside is that I always cry.
And cry.
And then cry a bit more.
It's just how it goes. My children seem to have accepted this. In fact, it seems to be coloring their world view. The kids wrote most of the program (after adult prompting to be sure) and my daughter's piece went something like this:
"Knowing Jesus loves me makes me happy when I'm not crying, tears fall from my eyes."
It was also quite lovely watching all three of them sing and talk. The downside is that I always cry.
And cry.
And then cry a bit more.
It's just how it goes. My children seem to have accepted this. In fact, it seems to be coloring their world view. The kids wrote most of the program (after adult prompting to be sure) and my daughter's piece went something like this:
"Knowing Jesus loves me makes me happy when I'm not crying, tears fall from my eyes."
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Due Diligence
I'm really trying to post when I'm not depressed.
At least you know this is day two of being fairly upbeat.
My oldest, Raph, is home sick today. It's the oddest thing; Eliza got sick last month with strep throat but didn't have a fever as a symptom. Now Raph is home with head and muscles aches and muscles weakness but no fevers. Is this the flu? Is this some random virus?
It feels quite different to mother a sick almost 12yo than a sick 6yo. Raph just wants to be left alone and only occasionally waited on. Eliza wanted to be snuggled and held. *sniff* When did he get so old?
We have snow on our mountain tops already. The first dusting appeared on October 1 and we've been playing the "here today, gone tomorrow" dance for the last few weeks. It's exciting to watch the snow slowly descend and then disappear. (Notice how I didn't add anything about my nerves regarding actually having to drive in that snow once it hits sea level - focusing on the positive!)
Q has to perform community service every month as part of his schooling. He then has to write an essay about his experience. (I really am loving his Montessori more and more.) He has selected (shockingly!) to volunteer at the local Humane Society. He's so excited about the possibility of seeing Jenny. I don't know whether to hope that she's adopted out or still present when he goes next Monday.
I did find it fairly amusing that the person whom he spoke to at the Human Society, knowing that he was only 9, told him that volunteer hours were from 9:30am to 2pm on the weekdays. Hmmmm....what about school? At no point did she ask to speak with a parent, which I also found interesting. Happily, we were able to switch him from Wednesday (a school day) to next Monday (teacher in-service day).
I made fried chicken thighs and macaroni and cheese with vegetables for dinner last night....
I actually made it to bed, lights out and all, by 10pm.....
I think the fact that I have so little to write may end up depressing me after all!
At least you know this is day two of being fairly upbeat.
My oldest, Raph, is home sick today. It's the oddest thing; Eliza got sick last month with strep throat but didn't have a fever as a symptom. Now Raph is home with head and muscles aches and muscles weakness but no fevers. Is this the flu? Is this some random virus?
It feels quite different to mother a sick almost 12yo than a sick 6yo. Raph just wants to be left alone and only occasionally waited on. Eliza wanted to be snuggled and held. *sniff* When did he get so old?
We have snow on our mountain tops already. The first dusting appeared on October 1 and we've been playing the "here today, gone tomorrow" dance for the last few weeks. It's exciting to watch the snow slowly descend and then disappear. (Notice how I didn't add anything about my nerves regarding actually having to drive in that snow once it hits sea level - focusing on the positive!)
Q has to perform community service every month as part of his schooling. He then has to write an essay about his experience. (I really am loving his Montessori more and more.) He has selected (shockingly!) to volunteer at the local Humane Society. He's so excited about the possibility of seeing Jenny. I don't know whether to hope that she's adopted out or still present when he goes next Monday.
I did find it fairly amusing that the person whom he spoke to at the Human Society, knowing that he was only 9, told him that volunteer hours were from 9:30am to 2pm on the weekdays. Hmmmm....what about school? At no point did she ask to speak with a parent, which I also found interesting. Happily, we were able to switch him from Wednesday (a school day) to next Monday (teacher in-service day).
I made fried chicken thighs and macaroni and cheese with vegetables for dinner last night....
I actually made it to bed, lights out and all, by 10pm.....
I think the fact that I have so little to write may end up depressing me after all!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
A Little Bit More
After my recent posts, I took a moment to look over all I have contributed to the blogosphere in the last while. It was depressing.
I swear, there is more to me and my life than just sad days and crying (although even I admit that there are times when it doesn't seem so). I thought to myself that I really need to start posting more frequently, to write down the good days and funny moments as well as the moments when I'm stressed out and depressed.
This morning has been good. And yet as I think of what to write....
...Yup. Nothing.
Do I have so little creativity that I cannot think of anything to write unless it is sad or a laundry list of complains?
Egads, I hope not.
Although the decrease in typing speed as I try to generate this post does seem to bear that thought out.
The lesson this past Sunday that I was supposed to teach to my Laurels (16-18yo girls) was on Physical Health and Preventing Disease. While I had planned to prepare the lesson, every time I was supposed to, something else came up. (Saturday night is was sheer exhaustion after hiking 6 miles and spending the day out in the rain at a Cub Scout Day Camp.) I planned to work on the lesson during Sunday School so that I would be ready only to realize that I had failed to pack the lesson materials in my Sunday bag. Seriously, it was as though I had prayed NOT to teach the lesson and God was helping me out.
Because the reality is, I really did NOT want to teach the lesson. To be blunt, I'm 5'4" and over 240 lbs. When I stand up there and discuss the ideals of physical health and preventing disease feels hypocritical in the extreme; I feel as though I'm standing there, actively smoking a cigarette whilst telling them not to smoke as it could be bad for their health.
The good news is that another teacher was happy to join her girls with mine and teach them all the lesson.
I got to tend her 3 month old baby.
Win/win in my book.
I swear, there is more to me and my life than just sad days and crying (although even I admit that there are times when it doesn't seem so). I thought to myself that I really need to start posting more frequently, to write down the good days and funny moments as well as the moments when I'm stressed out and depressed.
This morning has been good. And yet as I think of what to write....
...Yup. Nothing.
Do I have so little creativity that I cannot think of anything to write unless it is sad or a laundry list of complains?
Egads, I hope not.
Although the decrease in typing speed as I try to generate this post does seem to bear that thought out.
The lesson this past Sunday that I was supposed to teach to my Laurels (16-18yo girls) was on Physical Health and Preventing Disease. While I had planned to prepare the lesson, every time I was supposed to, something else came up. (Saturday night is was sheer exhaustion after hiking 6 miles and spending the day out in the rain at a Cub Scout Day Camp.) I planned to work on the lesson during Sunday School so that I would be ready only to realize that I had failed to pack the lesson materials in my Sunday bag. Seriously, it was as though I had prayed NOT to teach the lesson and God was helping me out.
Because the reality is, I really did NOT want to teach the lesson. To be blunt, I'm 5'4" and over 240 lbs. When I stand up there and discuss the ideals of physical health and preventing disease feels hypocritical in the extreme; I feel as though I'm standing there, actively smoking a cigarette whilst telling them not to smoke as it could be bad for their health.
The good news is that another teacher was happy to join her girls with mine and teach them all the lesson.
I got to tend her 3 month old baby.
Win/win in my book.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Better Go Get Some Cheese
I feel as though I whine far, far too much but here I am again, struggling to breathe and to not cry and very much needing to pour out my heart.
The designated quarantine time has ended and I took Jenny into the Humane Society this morning. This was very difficult for me. Jenny really does like people and while she was in quarantine she would run to my side and beg for loves and petting every time I would visit. Her fur is so soft. She purrs so loudly. Everything about her was asking me to keep her and give her one more try; this is so why I did not want to quarantine the cat and wanted to give her away while the memory of my 6yo daughter hurt and crying was fresh in my ears.
But I did it.
I asked the handler if she was adjusting okay. The handler said that she was. I nodded and spoke my thanks and then sat in my van and cried. I cried all the way home.
I still have to clean out her litter box and give away the rest of her food and such. I'm putting those chores off as long as I can.
On top of this heartache, I am really struggling with loneliness. I pick up the phone to talk to friends and they are rarely available. That, or they're tired of hearing me whine.
I was supposed to go to a book club on Friday night but part of my loneliness is feeling so disconnected from the women around me and not really having a desire to put forth the effort required to connect.
On top of this (am I to the cherry yet?), I feel as though God is leading me to read better books (read: non-escapist literature) and to watch better TV/movies, which leaves me feeling as though I have no escape from this life that has become difficult. No cat to pet, no wonderland to run off to but plenty of sorrow, loneliness and despair. I do feel that I need to get through these feelings. I think that part of my difficulty is that I have always, back and back to being a young adolescent, run from these feelings and either buried them with food or escaped them with sleep or brain candy books and movies. Feeling all these feelings is hard and more real than I want.
So today I'm sad.
And I am a little nervous and despairing that I am not up to the task of moving forward and through this.
The designated quarantine time has ended and I took Jenny into the Humane Society this morning. This was very difficult for me. Jenny really does like people and while she was in quarantine she would run to my side and beg for loves and petting every time I would visit. Her fur is so soft. She purrs so loudly. Everything about her was asking me to keep her and give her one more try; this is so why I did not want to quarantine the cat and wanted to give her away while the memory of my 6yo daughter hurt and crying was fresh in my ears.
But I did it.
I asked the handler if she was adjusting okay. The handler said that she was. I nodded and spoke my thanks and then sat in my van and cried. I cried all the way home.
I still have to clean out her litter box and give away the rest of her food and such. I'm putting those chores off as long as I can.
On top of this heartache, I am really struggling with loneliness. I pick up the phone to talk to friends and they are rarely available. That, or they're tired of hearing me whine.
I was supposed to go to a book club on Friday night but part of my loneliness is feeling so disconnected from the women around me and not really having a desire to put forth the effort required to connect.
On top of this (am I to the cherry yet?), I feel as though God is leading me to read better books (read: non-escapist literature) and to watch better TV/movies, which leaves me feeling as though I have no escape from this life that has become difficult. No cat to pet, no wonderland to run off to but plenty of sorrow, loneliness and despair. I do feel that I need to get through these feelings. I think that part of my difficulty is that I have always, back and back to being a young adolescent, run from these feelings and either buried them with food or escaped them with sleep or brain candy books and movies. Feeling all these feelings is hard and more real than I want.
So today I'm sad.
And I am a little nervous and despairing that I am not up to the task of moving forward and through this.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Ecstasy of Life
I was once told in college by my shroom-tripping roommate that I was probably the only person she'd ever met who seemed to be high on life.
Today I feel like I'm on ecstasy - not that I've ever experimented, but the purported feeling of heightened senses seems to fit today. Everything seems more today: the things of beauty are so beautiful and sentimental that they make me cry and the knife cuts like a surgeon's scalpel; one song makes me dance and laugh and the very next track on my playlist has me sobbing like a baby.
I don't know if it's stress or hormones or what but everything seems to be too, too much.
My children are growing to fast: Will I have enough time to hold them and love them, so that even when I'm gone they will know that they are loved beyond measure? Am I caught up enough in the wonder of how they grow? Am I teaching them to wrap their arms tightly around Jesus? Am I teaching them how to live authentically and kindly? Will they be good with money?
The snow is creeping down the mountain: Am I ready for long, dark, cold days? At what point do I have to ease open the purse strings and allow the thermostats to be turned up a bit higher?
The business is slowing down: Will Dad allow DH the head to make changes in policy and procedure? Can we run a business and continue to all live together? Will we be able to continue to meet our high overhead? Can we carve out some expenses? Will we ever be out of debt?
I'm lonely: I miss my mother. I have no spiritual advisor/mentor. I never see friends or talk to them. My children are lonely too. I'm homesick for Oregon.
On the upside (because I'm feeling that too): pictures of beautiful babies are making me cry, glorious sunrises and sunsets (which I see regularly now because the days are growing shorter) make me wax poetic, notes from loved ones fill my heart to overbrimming and I'm loving a cat free house (a bit more than I thought I would).
This too shall pass I suppose.
I just get tired of crying all the time.
Did I tell you I started crying at Q's parent/teacher conference? Brilliant, no?
And no. I'm not pregnant.
Today I feel like I'm on ecstasy - not that I've ever experimented, but the purported feeling of heightened senses seems to fit today. Everything seems more today: the things of beauty are so beautiful and sentimental that they make me cry and the knife cuts like a surgeon's scalpel; one song makes me dance and laugh and the very next track on my playlist has me sobbing like a baby.
I don't know if it's stress or hormones or what but everything seems to be too, too much.
My children are growing to fast: Will I have enough time to hold them and love them, so that even when I'm gone they will know that they are loved beyond measure? Am I caught up enough in the wonder of how they grow? Am I teaching them to wrap their arms tightly around Jesus? Am I teaching them how to live authentically and kindly? Will they be good with money?
The snow is creeping down the mountain: Am I ready for long, dark, cold days? At what point do I have to ease open the purse strings and allow the thermostats to be turned up a bit higher?
The business is slowing down: Will Dad allow DH the head to make changes in policy and procedure? Can we run a business and continue to all live together? Will we be able to continue to meet our high overhead? Can we carve out some expenses? Will we ever be out of debt?
I'm lonely: I miss my mother. I have no spiritual advisor/mentor. I never see friends or talk to them. My children are lonely too. I'm homesick for Oregon.
On the upside (because I'm feeling that too): pictures of beautiful babies are making me cry, glorious sunrises and sunsets (which I see regularly now because the days are growing shorter) make me wax poetic, notes from loved ones fill my heart to overbrimming and I'm loving a cat free house (a bit more than I thought I would).
This too shall pass I suppose.
I just get tired of crying all the time.
Did I tell you I started crying at Q's parent/teacher conference? Brilliant, no?
And no. I'm not pregnant.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Broken Hearts
Do you remember our little one pound ball of orange fluff?
She's quite grown up now. She's a gorgeous long hair orange tabby who loves people and is quite vocal, which is lovely when that means purring and a bit like riding the crazy train when it means mewing.
Unfortunately, she has also developed the opinion that she is alpha to my daughter and has taken to attacking Eliza for no reason at all. A few months ago it was in the middle of the night while Eliza was sleeping. So we made new rules and attempted to create an environment in which both cat and daughter could peacefully coexist. I really wanted to keep this cat. Not only do I love her but my middle child, Q, who struggles with life so much has said, "On a bad day, she makes me feel better." I knew to get rid of her would break Q's heart, something I studiously try to avoid.
Yesterday, however, Jenny attacked Eliza again. We were sitting on the couch for family scripture study, Jenny was next to Eliza and Eliza was petting her fur. Jenny went all Tazmanian Devil on Eliza and her little face had 4 new scratches, 3 of which broke skin.
I was going to euthanize the cat but my SIL introduced to the wonderful wide world of Human Society shelters. I called and they were willing to take the cat. However, after all the paper work was filled out, it turns out that I had to talk to animal control due to the scratching and biting. After talking to "Officer George," because her rabies shots are not current (due to her having two abcesses this year) I learned that we are required to either quarantine her ourselves or pay $50/day for 10 days to have the shelter quarantine her.
I left in tears. I wanted to take care of this today, to rip that band-aid off, so my children could say good-bye and work on letting go rather than a drawn out good-bye process. DH offered to take her and euthanize her himself but I just can't accept doing that simply because it's easier. So my cat, Jenny Butterscotch, is currently sheltered at the home we are remodeling and for the next 10 days I will have to sneak around to visit her and tend to her.
None of this has turned out the way I had hoped. DH and I grew up with animals and have always had animals. Once we adopted them, they were in our lives until they died. This is the first time I've ever had to relinquish care but I have to place my daughter first. And even that hasn't turned out the way I would have hoped. I've had a ball of anxiety in my stomach since Jenny's attack on Eliza yesterday morning and now I know it will be there until October 11.
Most of all, though, I'm saddened to say good-bye to this pet. My children really do love her. I adore her and had such hopes for her and what she would bring to our family. It is hard to say good-bye to something around which we have wrapped our hearts for the last three years.
 |
| October 2007 |
Unfortunately, she has also developed the opinion that she is alpha to my daughter and has taken to attacking Eliza for no reason at all. A few months ago it was in the middle of the night while Eliza was sleeping. So we made new rules and attempted to create an environment in which both cat and daughter could peacefully coexist. I really wanted to keep this cat. Not only do I love her but my middle child, Q, who struggles with life so much has said, "On a bad day, she makes me feel better." I knew to get rid of her would break Q's heart, something I studiously try to avoid.
Yesterday, however, Jenny attacked Eliza again. We were sitting on the couch for family scripture study, Jenny was next to Eliza and Eliza was petting her fur. Jenny went all Tazmanian Devil on Eliza and her little face had 4 new scratches, 3 of which broke skin.
I was going to euthanize the cat but my SIL introduced to the wonderful wide world of Human Society shelters. I called and they were willing to take the cat. However, after all the paper work was filled out, it turns out that I had to talk to animal control due to the scratching and biting. After talking to "Officer George," because her rabies shots are not current (due to her having two abcesses this year) I learned that we are required to either quarantine her ourselves or pay $50/day for 10 days to have the shelter quarantine her.
I left in tears. I wanted to take care of this today, to rip that band-aid off, so my children could say good-bye and work on letting go rather than a drawn out good-bye process. DH offered to take her and euthanize her himself but I just can't accept doing that simply because it's easier. So my cat, Jenny Butterscotch, is currently sheltered at the home we are remodeling and for the next 10 days I will have to sneak around to visit her and tend to her.
None of this has turned out the way I had hoped. DH and I grew up with animals and have always had animals. Once we adopted them, they were in our lives until they died. This is the first time I've ever had to relinquish care but I have to place my daughter first. And even that hasn't turned out the way I would have hoped. I've had a ball of anxiety in my stomach since Jenny's attack on Eliza yesterday morning and now I know it will be there until October 11.
Most of all, though, I'm saddened to say good-bye to this pet. My children really do love her. I adore her and had such hopes for her and what she would bring to our family. It is hard to say good-bye to something around which we have wrapped our hearts for the last three years.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)