A Younger Me

 Gratitudes:

1. I've said it before, but it is worth repeating. Air conditioning is a gift from the gods. I'm so thankful we updated and resized our AC unit when we first started renovating the house. I can actually function during heat waves. 
2. Libraries. Why? I do love owning books, and would live in a bookstore if I could figure out how to manage that. Since books are currently a non-essential purchase, I have been making great use of our library's paper and ebook offerings. 
3. Rob Thomas! If you haven't listened to his latest album, I insist you find it and do so immediately. 

I have a journal that I write in almost daily. Things I'm grateful for. My fibromyalgia log. Observances. Hopes. Dreams. These days they are filled with the mundane as I try to get a handle on my health issues. These are a far cry from the journals I kept in high school and college. These were works of art filled to overrunning with longing poetry and existential angst. I have journaled in one way or another for most of my life. 

I was cleaning the guest room this weekend and found a box of old journals from college. That was over 20 years ago. As I handled the fabric covers, I wondered if I would recognize my younger self in those pages. College was both amazing and devastating. And the mix started the foundation on which I have built my life. 

I looked at those journals for several minutes before setting them aside to continue cleaning. I'm easily sidetracked by shiny objects, and the fact that I was able to set these bits of shiny aside had me patting myself on the back. I was also unsure if I wanted to open those doors of memory. Like I said, college was both amazing and devastating. It has been a long time since I was that girl, and even thinking of reading those journals felt a bit like prying into something private. 

In the end I ended up packing the journals away. They are a part of my history. Part of who I was and a part of who I am. I remember college with an adult's eye, can see the heartache and think "phew, those were close getaways." I have the luxury of looking back with 20 years of knowledge and life lived between myself and the girl who poured her heart on on those pages. She deserves my respect and my compassion. I'm not sure I would be able to give that to her right now, knowing what I know now. So the journals have been gently packed away. It was a little bit like grieving and letting go, while celebrating who I am now. 

The guest room is clean. My heart is light. 

Well, Hello There!

 Gratitudes:

1. Velcro Dog has transitioned well to walks once a day instead two or even three times a day. It's a sign he's getting old (8-1/2!) but it's much easier for me to manage that single walk. 
2. I'm on a tight budget for books and music so I'm very thankful our library system has a superb selection of both in physical and electronic formats. 
3. Rain. 

Despite my putting my blog on my to-do list, it's been some time since I've spent time here. Time to dust off the cobwebs, I guess. 

Life has been slow days of pain management, reading, cleaning, walking and playing with Velcro Dog, and wondering if there will be a time when I can rejoin those who work for a living. Sometimes I wonder why I would want to go back to deadlines and stress and leaving my house, and then I remember. Because leaving one's house is a GOOD thing. It means I spend time with people who are not married to or otherwise related to me. Socialization is a good thing.

I spend at least one day a week with a good friend and we sit for hours at a café talking life and loves and everything. I love those days. I need more of them. I love my friend. We encourage each other. We amuse each other. And even better, we challenge each other to be our better selves and to reach for things unknown. 

Now that the weather is temperate I spend more time outside with Velcro Dog. He loves the dog parks we visit. I love that he will run and sniff and play while I bring a book or my iPod and relax in the fresh air. Oh, I walk around the park. It's not all sitting on a bench cheerleading from the sidelines. Velcro Dog would never stand for that. We wander and he sniffs while I attempt to bird watch. Or people watch. 

The house is slowly coming along. Mountain Man finished his degree in December so he spends his free time recovering from way too many years of dividing his energies between work, house projects, and school. Some of that recovery time is sitting quietly. I understand. When I finished my graduate degree all I wanted to do was navel gaze for a while. He's slowly coming back to life. I see sparks of the man with a wicked sense of humor and a gentleness that has been missing. We're both in a period of understanding who we are now at this point in time. I'm glad we have each other. 

Life isn't what I expected it to be. I think it's leading to something incredible I could never let myself imagine. 

Change is Inevitable

Gratitudes:

1. Cool autumn days and crisp autumn nights (You'll likely see this more than once)
2. Cuddle time with Velcro Dog
3. My cousin who rocks my world with her obsessive love of Doctor Who

I used to watch the really old Doctor Who episodes.  The ones from the 60s and 70s. This was when I fell in love with the francise so it was super exciting when I learned Doctor Who would have a reboot. Sadly, we don't have cable and the episodes were never aired on network TV or PBS in my area.

Then came Netflix. With the rebooted Doctor Who. There was much rejoicing! Except, I loved Christopher Eccleston and didn't know his Doctor was only going to last a season. It was a shock to the system to step into a new episode with David Tennant at the helm of the Tardis. I don't think I watched the older seasons in any specific order and I don't recall seeing the transition episodes for Doctors 1 through 8. I grew to love David Tennant's Doctor even more than Christopher's and dragged my feet when I knew we were getting close to David's reign.

I didn't think I could handle another change. And I really didn't think I could handle the good Doctor going through an existential crisis knowing his incarnation was going to die and a new incarnation would be born from the proverbial ashes. Sure, this new Doctor would have a smilar personality and would retain all of the memories and experiences of the previous 10. But he wouldn't be David Tennant! And he wouldn't be as burdened by his love for Rose. Nor would he so desperately miss Donna, the companion who lifted his spirits and didn't fall in love with him, not even a little. The companion who had the same lust for exploration as he did. All those nuances, they would be gone.

I caved this weekend after almost a year of dragging my feet and I finally transitioned to Matt Smith as The Doctor. I cried. I lamented and while I'm still not completely sure of Matt's rendition of my beloved Doctor, I am willing to continue the ride. Change happens. Change is always going to happen. I can fight it kicking and screaming and always lamenting what was in the good 'ole days. Or I can slide into it and experience something new. The good Doctor wouldn't have survived this long if it wasn't for change, now would he?

When Cleaning Leads to an Epiphany

Gratitudes:

1. Even though it was more humid than Satan's armpit earlier this week, the forecast for the remainder of the week is for gentler, more autumn-like weather. This makes me happy.
2. The gluten-free cookies I made last week taste almost as good as the non-GF chocolate chip oatmeal cookies I make for Hubs.
3. Grace. I'm very thankful for grace.

This past weekend I did something I haven't done in a long time. I cleaned the master bedroom from floor to ceiling. I went through the closet, the drawers, under the bed, the night tables. I purged, I polished, I organized. I must say that the room looks more restful now than it did when I started. The closet isn't any less full, but the top of the dresser has only necessities upon it and the end tables are neat and tidy without the miscelaneous piles we have gotten used to living around.

I clean the bedroom weekly - dust, vacuum, toss and recycle obvious garbage. But I don't declutter and I don't purge on any regular rotation these days.

As I was going through a pile of books I stashed beside the bed, books I started reading but didn't engage enough to finish, I started thinking about all the things in life I start and don't finish. Which started me down the road of self recrimination. When I was finished with flogging myself for a behavior I felt was not okay, I looked more carefully at each book as I was putting it away. Why didn't I finish it? Sometimes it was because the book didn't grab me. Was that a bad reason to put it down? No, not really. Sometimes the content of the book was very deep and involved and I needed a break to digest the information I had just read. Another fine reason to put a book down and not finish it right away. Sometimes the book was put down because a book I had been waiting to read with great anticipation was finally released or finally available from the library. No need to beat myself up over that.

Perhaps the books could have been put away, or given away, during my break from it. But hey, they were in a neat pile beneat my night table so they weren't really in the way. I continued to clean and while I was vaccuuming I had an A HA! moment. Sometimes I start things for very good reasons. Starting doesn't necessarily mean something needs to be finished now, or ever. Sure, there are things that need to be done - personal finances need to be tended to, budgets updated, dishes washed, dogs walked. There are other things that don't need to be finished. That scarf I was knitting, the book I was brainstorming and wasn't clicking with, the blog post I was writing. There are things that need to be finished but maybe not right now.

I had to apologize to myself for the self-recriminations and flogging. I was judging myself too harshly. As long as my world is not in chaos and I'm making concious choices, so what if some of the things I start are never finished? Or get finished later? Or never started at all? The dishes can wait if  Hubs needs to talk through an issue. The scarf I was knitting, well it never has to be fnished and I can recycle the yarn for a different project if I feel like it. That book that I wanted to toss against the wall? I can stop reading it and donate that to Goodwill or give to a friend who may enjoy it more.

I'm sure I'll kick my own ass again in the future over something I find in a pile that was started but not finished. Until then, I will remind myself that it's okay. There are, after all, only so many hours in the day. I get to choose how I spend them and who I spend them with. That's the fun part of being an adult. :)

What I Did This Weekend

We went to the family cabin this past weekend. Cabins are wonderful things - when you are a visitor. This particular cabin has been in my husband's family for now three generations. When his father owned it, he was in charge of the expenses and maintenance. My husband and his brother would assist with the physical labor, but by and large, other than cabin opening and cabin closing, the work wasn't overly time consuming. The cabin wasn't owned by us. Our usage was always based around my father-in-law's schedule. We were, in essence, visitors. 

Now that my father-in-law has passed away, the cabin is legally owned by my husband and his siblings. The brunt of all the work, all the decisions, all the labor, and all the expenses fall to this collective group. And their families. I was struck anew by the amount of work it takes to maintain a cabin. This past weekend was the first time anyone had been up to the cabin since it was winterized and closed up last fall. There were mice to evict, cobwebs and spiders to destroy, a general closed up odor to air out. Surfaces were scrubbed with Clorox. The sinks, tub and toilet were also scrubbed and de-spidered. Cabinets were emptied and dishes were washed…with Clorox and hot water. Pesky mice - they will pee on anything! Trees that had fallen over the winter were dissected and converted to firewood for next year. The yard was raked. The screened porch assembled and the dock was wrestled into place. Then there was the start of the cabin inventory - what needs to be fixed and in what priority; what items in the cabin can be given away or tossed; what items need to be purchased. 

This took a looooong time. I kid you not. And we're not finished. For years the cabin has been the happy dumping ground for anything that was no longer wanted at my FIL's house. And for his father before him. You can imagine what kind of things we found. Ancient coffee percolators that don't work. A food processor that predates my birth. Plastic Raggedy Anne and Andy place settings that no on uses. Enough lawn chairs to outfit a battalion of parade observers. A set of bathing trunks that have seen better days. And this is just some of what I found in the kitchen and one closet. I lost steam around the time my hands started to permanently prune up due to exposure to water. 

It's going to be a long summer. Every time we come up there will be something to fix, another drawer or closet to inventory, and more wildlife to convince they belong outside. I had a moment when I was inside washing mugs and glasses that have never been used in the eighteen years I've been a part of the family. Is this what cabin ownership is going to mean? We work hard on our own home only to turn around on weekends and head three hours out of town to work on the cabin? Are we never going to be able to relax? Ever again? 

As I was having my private breakdown, I noticed the bird feeder just off the back door and the kitchen. The bird feeder is on a post and is supposed to have two clear panels that are open about an inch on the bottom. Feed fills the feeder and birds are supposed to perch on it and eat the seed. At some point one of the sides had broken and it's now a little cave on a pole. One industrious robin has built her nest in the feeder and has layer several eggs. I watched her as she cared for her eggs, sitting there keeping them warm and safe. Then I noticed some chipmunks roughhousing in the wood pile. And when I sat down to look out at the lake, I saw my nephews, pretending to  help my husband and his brother wrestle with the dock. The joy on their faces was priceless. 

Sure, being a part owner in the cabin is going to mean more work than we're used to. But it's still a retreat for family. It's away from the city and on a clear night, the sky is awash with stars. The only noises you hear are your neighbors and the occasional boat or car. It's peaceful here. And if can also be full of laughter. As it was last weekend. 

Cabins are wonderful things, when they are filled with family and laughter.