And so it begins.

It's Day 1 of a New Year! Happy happy. Welcome to 2014.

Do you have plans? Resolutions? Goals? Anything of the sort?

Or are you of the mindset that any day is a good day for a fresh start?

I fall somewhere in the middle. I love the idea of folding up the previous year's wall calendar and hanging up a brand new one. I appreciate a clean slate. But I also think just like the start of a new year is a great time to make changes, so is the start of a new week, or month, or season.

With that in mind, I wasn't too hard on myself (or my family) when the house was still in a bit of holiday chaos as the four of us rang in the New Year together. Each day will be a chance to make progress toward improving myself and living a better life ... and part of that is accepting the fact that everything doesn't have to be in perfect order all around me before I can work on me.

If I were to choose a focus for myself for this year it would be this: mindfulness.

mind·ful·ness

/ˈmīndfəlnəs/

noun

noun: mindfulness

1. the quality or state of being conscious or aware of something.

   "their mindfulness of the wider cinematic tradition"
2. a mental state achieved by focusing one's awareness on the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one's feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique.

This is going to take some work for me, which seems funny since as a journalist it's my job to observe and be aware of my surroundings, to take it all in without judgment. But in my personal life I often find myself overwhelmed - with information, options, responsibilities - which leads to a lot of mindless eating, anxiety (which doesn't help anything), "paralysis by analysis," and generally just feeling not as satisfied with my days as I could be ... and I think as God would want me to be. I think there are a lot of areas in my life that will benefit from me simply being more aware, acknowledging how I feel in a particular situation without automatically reciting my old standby (and often negative) self-talk.

I'm ready for some positive personal growth. Strengthened faith. Better relationships.

And yes, maybe a little less chaos around the house. But that might have to wait until the kids go back to school next week.

Let's do this.

Of Memorial Day and hittin' the road.

It's Memorial Day. I find it hard to express the gratitude, the love, the appreciation I feel for the people who have served our country and lost their lives in the process. That is the ultimate sacrifice ... and the most humbling gift.

We did not attend any Memorial Day services today. We had a quiet day at home. But my mind went back to my trip with Rachel to Washington, D.C., last year. It was so touching to see the war memorials and to be there among so much history. It gave us an even better appreciation for those who serve our great nation.

At the Korean War Memorial.

Thank you.

***

  

Completely unrelated to Memorial Day, I've been having a rough time lately. Somewhere north of being in a funk but not quite feeling myself. I wish I knew what was making me feel this way, because I feel like if I knew what it was I could fix it. Certainly it's a little bit of missing Steve. And some days I'm a bit busier than I'd like to be which gets me all discombobulated, yet the times when I have nothing going on I feel like I should be busy and my brain starts filling the silence with all kinds of junk.

Today I kept my mind and my body busy with clearing out and rearranging my closet. I tried on all my clothes, threw away a few pieces long past their prime and set aside a stack for Goodwill. Why do we keep clothes that don't fit us? For YEARS? I decided I'd rather have the space. I also decided it's time to invest in my wardrobe a bit. I don't need much, but I think I could find a handful of quality pieces to round things out and make me feel a little better about myself when I'm out and about. I'm gonna' keep my eyes open during my travels this summer when I am closer to really good shopping.

Ahh, summer. The kids have six more days of school left, then we're freeeee! I am so looking forward to heading east to spend some time with Steve. I wanna hit the road, have a change of scenery. I'll have a little taste of it this week when I head to Indiana to visit a friend. It'll be a quick trip - just two nights away - but it will be travel time sans children, adult time with a couple of people I adore (and haven't seen in far too long), and a chance to see something other than these four walls I'm livin' in. I do love my home and my family, but there comes a point when I get a little stir-crazy and ready to do something different. I will miss all of it while I'm gone, but I will enjoy the time away.

In the meantime, I made brownies. Isn't that what any slightly-less-than-sane gal would do when she's feeling antsy? And what a shame, the kids don't care for them. (I think the almond extract the recipe called for makes them taste wonky to the kids. I happen to love it.) Guess I'll have to eat the whole batch all by myself.

Or should I say ... the rest of the batch. *ahem*

 

So close to perfect ...

My hands smell of rosemary and thyme. They are what's left in my garden - along with the Chives That Will Not Die and a lone green onion sprout - after what feels like the longest winter ever.

Sometimes I think God must allow us to feel a little pain so we remember just how blessed we are once the sun shines again. Oh, and am I ever thankful the sun is shining now. I am thankful for these recent days of warmer temperatures, and the beautiful thunderstorm I awoke to yesterday morning. Day after day I think today couldn't possibly be better than yesterday. And then it is.

I go through periods of discontent. There are times when I think I might not be on the right path. I wonder if this crazy life we live is really the right life for us. But then I take a long look in the mirror and I see the pink cheeks and shoulders from a day spent in the sun and I know: this is the right path, we are in the right place, I am and I have enough.

We've had an amazing few days. Lots of sunshine and family time. The kids and I spent much of last weekend outdoors, raking and shoveling and prepping for summer. My plants and shrubs are starting to poke up through the ground and show some color. It all makes me so happy.

One evening the kids asked me to go back to the creek with them - a short ride on the golf cart on family property - and it's a wonder we ever came back. It's so beautiful out there. The birds were singing ... frogs croaking ... kids playing and exploring. We all got our feet wet. I took a few pictures, which I will share when I download them from my phone.

Even my allergies have been minimal, which surprises me with all the time I have spent outside and sleeping at night with my bedroom window open. Not to mention two shedding dogs. Mercy. I spent about a half hour outside brushing Gunnar this morning and got a good bushel of fur (I swear!) before he had enough. It cost me a chicken breast to keep him distracted, but no sneezing! And then he thanked me by laying in a mud puddle. *sigh* It's a good thing I'm pretty much ignoring the interior of the house right now because two dogs and a swampy back yard make spring cleaning a lesson in futility. If I can't stand to look at it anymore I just go outside. Which is where I'm headed now.

All this activity is good for the soul. As I walk around and survey the progress of our little homestead I am grateful for the opportunity to be present, not just in the grand scheme, but daily, for the small moments. I can appreciate the small changes, the growth, the color, even if I only see it in passing as I chase down Gunnar The Giant Puppy to retrieve my gardening glove.

Life is good.

Clean Slate Sunday: 12.16.12 broken heart edition

I can hardly believe the weekend is over already. I'm pretty sure that, other than when I was sleeping, I spent more time in my truck or otherwise away from the house than I did at home.

After the news on Friday of so many children being killed at their school in Newtown, CT, I will not grumble about shuffling my kids from one activity to another. My children are alive. They are here. And while we are all brokenhearted and still in a bit of shock, we need to continue to live. We need for things to be as normal as possible.

Make no mistake. I am not downplaying the tragedy at all. While I go about my usual business with my children there is a voice inside my head screaming at me that I should be curled up in the fetal position sobbing for those children lost and their families who now have to learn how to go on without them.

I don't even know any of those families, but just imagining their anguish would suck the life out of me if I let it. It's part of my makeup, this uber-emotionalism, and so I have learned to manage it and to recognize my limits. I spent much of Friday night flipping between news channels, devouring any new information about the shooting. The rest of the weekend I have focused on my own family - Rachel had activities with her Girl Scout troop both Saturday and today, and participated in the church Christmas program with her Sunday School class this morning. Sam spent much of the weekend at home battling bad guys on his PS3. We talked a bit. Hung out on the couch and watched movies. The usual. He's elated to be seeing the doctor tomorrow to (God willing) have the cast taken off his leg.

Normal, everyday stuff.

"I guess the world ain't gonna stop for my broken heart."

Those words from an old Reba McEntire song have been playing over and over in my mind these last few days. And it's true. Even though it feels like the world should stop sometimes, particularly when the loss is so great, so traumatic, and felt by so many ... life goes on.

In one week the love of my life will be home for Christmas. The kids will have their break from school, and we will enjoy some quality time as a family. But between now and then I will be sure to live every day, to continue to tell my children often how much I love them, and to pray for the mamas and daddies who can no longer hold their babies in their arms.

I wish you all a restful night, and a fresh start in the morning.

When a good afternoon goes bad.

Poor Sam.

This kid has been riding a bicycle since he could walk, practically. He chucked those training wheels as soon as he could work a wrench to take 'em off. And he has made my heart skip a beat on countless occasions with his tricks and tumbles.

I wouldn't call him a daredevil, really. More like ... determined. He knows what he wants to do and he will try and try until he gets it right.

But Sunday afternoon he was just a teenage boy riding his bicycle around in the driveway when he popped a wheelie, the back tire hit a hole, and when he bailed off his body went one way while his bike - with his right foot caught between the pedal and the rear peg - went the other.

He told us he heard the snap.

I know. *shudder*

So Sam and I spent the evening and most of the night in hospitals and ambulances - first a ride to a local hospital, then a transfer to a children's hospital a miserable, bumpy, 1.5-hour drive away.

At any point in the night I would have gladly traded places with him so my kiddo didn't have to experience that kind of pain. But that second ambulance ride? Oh man. Talk about feeling helpless. It was definitely one of those moments when it would have been nice to have Steve here - a strong shoulder for me to lean on and the voice of comfort Sam really wanted. Because mom will do in a pinch, but he truly is daddy's boy. And I know that was hard for Steve, too. Hard to hear me tell him what happened, and then Sam's scared voice on the phone. But as parents we suck it up for our kids, don't we? We stay strong for them when it feels like we're dying inside. We offer them comfort when we feel like we don't really have any more to give.  

Sam is now experiencing the pain of a broken bone. Two, in fact. Right above his ankle. At the children's hospital he was sedated and his leg was set back into place and splintered. Sometime within the next week we will go back to see an orthopedist who will put a cast on. The ortho doctor in the ER told us the cast will be up to Sam's thigh because the break involved the growth plate in his ankle so the entire leg needs to be immobilized to heal properly. He will likely have to have it on for at least 3-4 weeks.

Dude. That sucks.

He's been getting around on crutches pretty good, mostly between the couch and the bathroom. The last couple nights he has slept in my king size bed with me - it's just easier for him to get to the bathroom if he needs to, and I'm right there if he wakes up in pain or needs to adjust his position. And frankly, his room is a disaster so he'd probably break the other leg trying to maneuver around in there. I'm going to remedy that any day now. Right after I get a shower. And maybe wash some dishes.

The house may be a wreck, but my boy is fed and appropriately drugged. And as I write he is actually doing homework. Mom Of The Year? Come on, throw me a bone.

Speaking of bones ... this caring for a kid with a broken leg thing is 100 times harder with two dogs in the house. I would pay a million dollars for a fenced-in yard right now. Gunnar is totally freaked out by those crutches, and I'm sure Sam smells a little funky. Yeah. When we get around to getting him in the shower ... that should be interesting. I know how difficult it was for me when I had a broken ankle a few years ago, and I didn't have a cast/splint to keep dry.

And we're not even going to talk about the younger child who already feels like she gets the short end of the deal. *sigh* I am only one person.

If you are the praying sort, we sure could use some.

Because J said so.

I need to blog. Because my buddy J says so.

I think every writer needs that one person in their lives who isn't afraid to say, "Hey, get off your ass and write something." I know I sure do. Even if it's a rather meaningless blog post, I need to go through the motions of writing something on a regular basis, or before I know it it's been so long that I start to believe I have nothing to say, and anybody who knows me knows that's not true.

So here you go, J. Thanks for the nudge. Dork.

Truth be told, I have been needing to get off my arse in general. I've been feeling like crap lately. And I'm talking a big ol' steaming Jurassic Park-style pile of poo. And when I feel like poo, and on top of it the universe hands me a few rainy, dreary days in a row, it doesn't take very long for me to spiral downward toward the Pit of Despair. Fortunately I have an awesome husband who will drag me out of that spiral kicking and screaming (or wailing and whining that it's just easier to do nothing than to pull myself up by the bootstraps), and a few friends who seem to know - whether they realize it or not - just when to intervene.

We have begun the process of figuring out what's causing my respiratory issues (that I wrote about in my last post). I've been to my family doctor; she didn't see anything freakish. She did see lots of allergy-related irritation in my nose, and something in the back of my throat that needs a closer look. I've had a chest x-ray which came back normal. I now have an appointment with an ENT to check ... er ... deeper into my ears, nose and throat. My doc suggested I might have damaged vocal cords. I googled the symptoms of damaged vocal cords and I think it's definitely a possibility. We shall see.

Meantime, I've also been dealing with some back and neck trouble. Because it isn't enough that I feel like I can't breathe half the time, I also have to walk around feeling like there's an ice pick or two stuck between my shoulder blades. I know ... I'm a wreck. Next week I'm getting a massage in the hope that it will give me some relief. Like a lot of moms, it's not easy for me to schedule that time to focus on myself, but I really need it. If it helps, this will be the first of many visits to the masseuse.

Who feels like she's 80 years old? Is it Pipe Lifer Jen? Dear God. If only I had the wisdom to go along with it.

And that's all there is to say about that for now.

Steve is home this weekend, which is nice. He's down to the last couple of weeks on his current project and then ... who knows? I would love to have him home for a week or two when this job is done before he heads off to the next adventure, but we continue to take things one day at a time.

The kids are busy as ever. Rachel just started basketball practice this week and will have games on Saturdays. Sam has one more football game next week (hoping the team will stay undefeated), and he started Saturday bowling league today. I'm still not sure how I'm going to get everyone where they need to be at the right time on the right days, but that's another task we take one day at a time.

Other than that? Not much going on. Just lots and lots of everyday stuff, really. We've had some work done on the house - new doors put on the front and back (happy!), and a broken rafter (eek!) repaired.

So ... we're here. We're livin'. At the speed of light sometimes, but that's how it goes.

Tonight it feels good to just sit with my hubby and watch the Tigers in the post season. We're headed to church in the morning, and will hopefully have a relaxing afternoon before Steve heads south again.

I leave you with a couple of pet pictures - because they're the only ones I've been taking lately. Gunnar is growing like a weed and has hit the sassy teenager stage. Patch The Kitty ... well, he's just fun to mess around with.

Until next time ...

Quick update.

I'm here! I feel like I have really neglected my blog lately - which mostly means family and friends who don't see my occasional posts on Facebook might not be as up-to-date on the goings-on of the Pipe Lifers as when I am blogging regularly. For shame.

Well. The business of life continues. Big highlight: Sam shot a beautiful 9-pt. buck during the youth hunt weekend here in Michigan. I will pick it up from the meat processor next week, and will take the head/hide to a taxidermist. We decided to have it mounted for him - Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas for like, the next three years, kid! OK, not really. But close.

And here's the "Pipe Life" part of the story ... Steve made arrangements to come home and take Sam out hunting over the weekend, but they didn't have any luck. Steve had to head back to Detroit Sunday afternoon, but Sam still had the opportunity to hunt that evening. His Uncle Tom took him out, and that's when Sam shot this deer. I was (and still am) so happy for our boy, but gosh I sure wish Steve had been here to be a part of it, and to see this beautiful deer. Especially since the same thing happened last year, except I was the one with Sam when he took his 4-point. Ah well. Thank God for e-mail and texts and the good ol' telephone.

In other news, Gunnar the puppy is growing like a weed. He is in that puppy "teenager" stage where his legs are long and lanky and he hasn't quite grown into those big ears. His fur is getting shiny - losing that puppy fuzziness - and he is so handsome. Smart, too. Almost too smart for his own good. Some days it's a darn good thing he's that cute. *ahem* And he and Ladybug are getting along splendidly.

A rare "still" moment.

Rachel has started another busy year of Girl Scouts (her Troop will be walking in the Homecoming parade tonight) and is looking forward to signing up for a rec basketball league soon. Sam is halfway through football season (he would want me to mention his team is 3-0) and while he's not getting as much play time as he would like, he is learning a lot about the game, about working together as a team, and his overall health is improving with all that activity.

There's so much more to mention but I said quick update, so I'll stop there. It's Friday and I have errands to run and stuff to do. Enjoy your weekend!

Doomsday. Slightly less than ready.

Photo source

Every time I watch Hoarders on A&E (which I am kind of obsessed with) I get a little anxious and I'm prompted to get up and scrub the toilets or declutter a cabinet. In the same way, watching DVR'd episodes of NatGeo's Doomsday Preppers tonight with the kids has my head spinning, and now I feel like I need to make lists of things to do to prepare our family for a complete collapse of society.

Or nuclear warfare.

Or economic ruin.

Or a zombie apocalypse.

But I promised myself I would get to bed at a decent hour tonight so I can get up in the morning with enough energy to face my own two little zombies and prevent virtual ruin of life as I know it. Because seriously, there are days when I would much rather stare down the business end of a looter's gun than face the wrath of a certain teenager who doesn't want to get out of bed for school.

That said, the kids and I had some interesting conversation about our family's preparedness for cosmic events - extra food storage, sources for clean water, fuel, self-protection - and how some of those things come naturally to us as part of our way of life. I'm glad this is something they are interested in, because being prepared is never a bad thing, whether you're preparing for the end of the world or a short-term job loss. I'm not willing to spend 50 hours a week on it, though. Some of those Doomsday Preppers have quit their full-time jobs to spend more time creating their stockpiles of guns and food and training their family members to "bug out" in case of an attack on the homestead.

Not me. I'm not digging a moat around our property. I'm not adding onto the house just to store 55 gallon drums of wheat and corn. And I'm not spending my weekends instructing my children in tactical maneuvers. I'd rather get my fanny into bed early and pray that if the world ends while I'm sleeping the Good Lord takes me and my family with it.

Just ... stuff.

Well hallelujah, Sam returned home from his first evening skiing with not a bump or bruise or broken anything. (!!!) As it should be. And on the 20-minute ride home from school - in which I was a wee bit tired because it was after 10 p.m. - he talked 100 miles an hour about who he hung out with, how he has to take lessons before he can ride the ski lift, what size his boots were, what he had for dinner, and on and on. And he cannot wait for next Wednesday to roll around. I love it.

He also talked about how cool it is that the kids are trusted to go off and ski, get a bite to eat whenever they are ready, and then meet back at the bus at a designated time. Ya' know what that's called? FREEDOM! I think he's pretty excited about that.

~ ~ ~

Today is Steve's birthday. Happy birthday, baby! I'm a little out-of-sorts because he doesn't get a signal on his cell phone where he's staying, so we aren't able to chat in the evenings like we usually do. But he called this morning and it was so good to hear his voice ... and I was able to tell him "happy birthday" when I finally remembered today is the 6th. Once the kids were both up and alert enough to talk, they called him and wished him a happy day, too.

This is the second year I haven't been able to be with Steve on his big day, and that kinda' bums me out. Birthdays are a big deal to me. But I can't complain because he's working and that's a good thing!

~ ~ ~

Poor Rachel has a dentist appointment this afternoon because she chipped a tooth. Or rather, a tooth chipped and she has no idea how it happened. So we're going to have that checked out and have her teeth cleaned and the usual X-rays and all that while she's there.

Do you think it would be too much to expect that once her sore tooth is taken care of her attitude would improve? Sheesh. Here's hoping.

~ ~ ~

Me? I've been on a housecleaning kick. Time to move some furniture around, catch all the dust bunnies and make everything look fresh. The Christmas trees come down tonight. We typically wait until Jan. 6 because a) we usually have a big bonfire for Steve's and his brother's birthday (yes, they share a birthday - his brother is exactly five years older), and b) it signifies Epiphany on the church calendar. We don't have plans for a bonfire this year, but it will be a good opportunity to remind the kids that the Christmas season doesn't necessarily end on December 25th.

Have a great day, y'all. TGIF!

The start of something grand.

Is it? I don't know, it could be. Why not?

Let's just expect this new venture to be a wonderful thing, shall we? I'm going to pray for a great year for the Pipe Lifers ... speak it into being, even. I believe positive (often) begets positive, so that's the route I'm taking.

It is back to ... well, "whatever" today. School, work ... our old familiar roles. I've sent the kids off to school and Steve off to a new job. The house is so quiet the dog and I don't know what to do with ourselves. I'm not sure if I'm ecstatic or lonely. A little bit of both, probably.

Despite the concern over lack of a regular paycheck for a while, it's been so great having Steve here by my side these past few weeks. We really needed that time to recharge. Today he's headed to Pennsylvania for his new job and I'm not sure when I will see him again. Hopefully we'll know much more about what the job entails and what his schedule will be after he meets with a supervisor tomorrow. (And for those keeping track, my brother is going to work for the same company, so they're traveling together today. Fired together, hired together. I'm tellin' ya', they're a force to be reckoned with.)

I'm excited. I have a feeling there are great things in store for us this year, and this is just the beginning.

Now, if I could just fight off this cold that seems to be settling in my head I'd be all set. I've got too much to accomplish to start the year off by getting sick. Germs be gone!

In which Jen posts another blurry picture ...

... facing the morning sun streaming in through the window behind this chair ... because if I reached to pull the curtain closed it would disturb the creature. And how could I not at least try a shot at the sweetest photo ever?

OK, maybe not the sweetest ever, but hound dogs with their lanky legs and floppy ears sure make good subjects.

I swear I did not make her ears do that.

I'm still trying to figure out how Ladybug got herself into that chair, did her turn around and around and laid down without disturbing the pillow. Smart one, she. You wouldn't know it if you lived with her, though. Aye yi yi.

Remember when I said I was gonna' retrain her? Mmm, yeah. Well here's my update.

The first few days were great. Bug was really starting to chill out. And then it rained. For like, days. Have I ever mentioned Ladybug is also a meteorologist? No joke. She can sense a front coming in and will start whining, acting like she needs to go outside when she doesn't really, and sometimes she'll even put herself in a corner - lying behind the couch with her nose facing the wall.

So not only could I not do anything to distract her from the thing that was causing her stress, I didn't feel like taking her out for our daily walks in the rain, either. I know: pet parent FAIL.

Y'all, the training has not gone fabulously since then. Life happened. We were gone a lot when Steve's dad was in and out of the hospital (leaving Bug in her crate or tied outside), the holiday season is here and Steve is here and that means more visitors than usual (more strangers, more knocking on the door, more voices she doesn't recognize), and as the weather has turned colder we have not gotten as much exercise outside (not only do the people not want to be cold, but Bug isn't a fan of the cold, either).

But all is not lost. We have made some progress. I know when people approach the house I need to either remove Ladybug from the picture by locking her in my bedroom, or at the least put a leash on her so I can control her. And treats are worth their weight in gold. Cheese, bacon, or whatever packaged dog treats we have on hand. I swear she'll recite the alphabet for you if you offer her a piece of cooked chicken. Ya' know what else is awesome? Delivery people and/or contractors who have the patience to play along and let me work with Ladybug while they're here.

"Don't talk to her or pay any attention, just let her sniff you while I hold her leash."

Yes, I'm that crazy dog lady now.

Hopefully I'll have more positive progress to tell you about in a few weeks. *crossing fingers*

Happy Friday!

Time to circle the wagons.

I am angry.

I'm hurt and feeling defensive of my family and I wish I could tell you all about it but now isn't the right time, so could I just ask you to pray for us?

Know that my marriage is strong and that in itself will sustain us through much. We are healthy (well, OK, some might question my mental state but that's nothing new) and our children are fine. We have hit a roadblock but we will push through it together. And, God willing, we'll come out stronger on the other side.

 Today? Some inspiration. Turn it up, baby.



When the darkness tries to get me
There's a light that just won't let me
It might take my pride, tears may fill my eyes
But I'll stand back up.

Clean Slate Sunday: 10.30.11 edition

I've started so many posts over the past several days, but my brain is so scattered I can't seem to hold a thought for more than a few minutes. If that.

This afternoon was rather perfect in terms of late-October days. Breezy and cool. Overcast, but bright. The kind of day that makes me want to bake some bread and snuggle up on the couch with a book. But I did not make bread and I did not do any reading. I did take a nap when I finally decided it was about the only thing I could focus on. It took me most of the rest of the afternoon to do a few loads of laundry and, a little at a time, clear some clutter and do some sweeping and straighten things up a bit.

The other day when I took the dog outside first thing in the morning I couldn't help but think of how the thick layer of frost on everything made the trees look exactly how I felt: heavy. Burdened. That day it was because Steve was leaving to head back to work in West Virginia and I just wasn't ready to let him go. Every day since then the heaviness has hung on, but for different reasons. Tonight is no different.

Sunday nights have always been my "chill" time. I finish up whatever tasks need doing before the new week begins and I prepare for the routine of rising early and packing the kids off to school. It can be exhausting or exhilarating, or a little bit of both, depending on the schedule for the week. No matter what, I try to take the time to count my blessings, take some deep breaths and some quiet time, and approach the week with an open mind and a grateful heart.

Tonight it's been difficult to calm myself. Life is in upheaval, and while it would seem chaos defines the Pipe Lifers' day-to-day, this period seems to be extra intense. Despite lots of unknowns, though, life goes on and we figure out how to roll with it. One day at a time.


For now, it's late (or mega early, rather) and I need to try to get some rest. I wish you a blessed week.

Stopping the clock. For real.

I'm not sure I was even aware this clock I bought recently for the dining room had a glass face.





Stress the word had.

It fell off the wall last night as Steve brushed by. I think he barely bumped the wall.

That "CRASH!" and the sound of breaking glass? Yikes.

Fortunately no family members were injured; just the clock.

Oops.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could really stop the hands of time and just hang out here for a while? Well, I'd really like to get over this ugly cold (or whatever it is) that I have, but other than that I'm really enjoying these few days with my sweetie here. He'll be gone again before we know it, back to the daily grind. It makes me sad to think about him leaving in a couple of days, even though I knew it was inevitable.

Yes. Life - and time - goes on.

Even the poor clock is back up on the wall, minus the glass, but working like a charm. 

And because in my world a broken clock can never be just a broken clock, there must be some great life analogy here, right? Like ... it's just what we do: when we get knocked down we pick ourselves (or each other) up, repair what we can, discard what we can't, and keep on moving.

Happy Tuesday!

This week is flying by.

Wednesday?? How can it be Wednesday already?!

Listen, I'm just going to get right to the point. I had a great night of sleep last night, woke up refreshed, and then those blasted children sucked every ounce of energy out of me within the first hour of my day.

Every. Ounce.

I came back from putting them on the bus and flopped down on the couch where I spotted my wine glass from last night sitting on the end table. Don't even think that if there was a smidge of anything left in it I wouldn't have sucked it right down.

Alas, it was empty. (Hence the good night of sleep.)

I decided 7 a.m. was a leeeetle early for wine anyway. I decided to skip the coffee, even, and head out for a walk. I could blow off some steam and even vent a bit to my walking buddy.

It doesn't matter how many times the gurus say it, I'm still amazed at how a bit of exercise makes me feel so much better. The sun is shining too, and that's always helpful. Now I'm ready to get my day started ... again, and on a better note. I have a few errands to run, a lunch date with my mom, and maybe a little nosing around the second-hand stores while I'm out. It's probably a good thing we don't have a garage because I've got DIY projects piling up and I certainly don't need any more room to store them. At least the way they are now I'll eventually get tired of tripping over them and I'll actually start working on them.

Aha! I need to add spray paint to my list.

Enjoy your Hump Day, peeps. We're on the downslide and headed toward the weekend. Wahoo!

Lots of irons in the fire ... and a little garden 'before & after'

I keep sitting down to write a post and it isn't long before I'm distracted by something else - the phone rings or the dryer buzzes or one of the kids asks for help with something. Or I remember something I meant to do 10 minutes ago before I got sidetracked with something else.

Spring has sprung and we are busy with life and that makes me happy. But I'm also a little overwhelmed with all the things screaming at me to be done. Heaps of laundry have only gotten higher this past week as I spent much of my days either prepping for the garage sale my family is having at grandma's house this weekend, or picking asparagus with the neighbors. Both ventures create a little bit of income - not much more than Fun Money to support my gardening and thrifting habits, but that's good enough for me.

Things will lighten up a bit once the garage sale is over tomorrow, and I can't wait to have a little more time to spend in the yard here at home. It needs some serious TLC. There are signs of hope out there, though. Early in the week I ripped out a chunk of green (and I use "green" here where others might use "lawn" because it's not really much of a lawn), and created a little flowerbed between a couple of our big ol' rocks.

Despite the fact that they are in the middle of ... well, everything ... these rocks are probably one of the coolest things we have going on in our front yard. The kids have climbed on them, jumped from them, BMX'ed over them for as long as they can remember.

Sorry kids. Mama wants a garden.

(And less green to mow.) 

Before

 The dandelions are a nice touch, aren't they?

 First I dug out the sod (or whatever you'd call it). See that spot of green in the middle? I planted that Catmint about a week ago. It's there in the first photo but you can hardly see it.

 Since I already had some landscape fabric I had purchased for some other project, I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to use some here.

Tip: If you ever use landscape fabric, spring for those little metal stakes that secure the fabric to the ground. Totally worth it.

After

 

 I added a Creeping Phlox and Pincushion Plant here, and a couple of old pickling crocks I'll plant some colorful annuals in.

The solar lights add a sweet glow and make this little garden a quiet oasis in the evening. Once I have those annuals planted I might add some other rocks here and there in the bare spots. It's always good to have options!

Now I need to move over and work on the space between that middle rock and the next one. And about a thousand other places in the yard. 

Little by little, one at a time.

Relaxing ... and letting go.

Yesterday I had one of those days when I didn't feel very appreciated.

Oh, people all around me made me feel OK. The adults I interact with regularly were kind. Heck, even people I don't know smiled at me at the grocery store.

But my own flesh and blood? Those little people I provide dinner for every night? They were mean. They were demanding and rude and ungrateful. I couldn't do a darn thing right in their eyes.

Well, I guess that's not altogether fair of me. They did go outside with me for a while and do some yard work, and they both complimented me on the new flowerbed I worked up. But beyond that it was crankiness upon snottiness upon grumpiness.

So when bedtime came I was ruthless. No idle chatter. No last-minute showing of a new magic trick. No discussing tomorrow's schedule or grabbing a glass of water. Nope. Get in bed, here's your kiss, now be quiet.

Oh, and I still love you, ya' little brat.

Once the house was quiet I turned most of the lights off and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. It was a perfect night to sit out on the steps of the front deck and listen to the frogs croaking and crickets chirping, and even a few deer rustling leaves on their way out of the woods and into the field.

I sat there in the dark in my worn out clothes and bare feet, just listening to the world around me and getting lost in the glow of the solar lights I stuck in that new flowerbed. There was a cool breeze but I was determined to stay out there until either I finished my beer or my toes got too cold.

It was heavenly. I'm pretty sure the moment I stepped outside my children jumped out of bed and sat in the doorways of their bedrooms across the hall from each other and plotted against me. I know this because when I had to step inside to answer the phone I heard a bump, thump, giggle coming from that direction. That's fine; isn't that what kids are supposed to do? It actually tickles me a little and I would have enjoyed the thought of it a whole lot more if I wasn't already annoyed with them. But I let it go anyway.

Back out on the deck I thought of how lucky I am, how blessed that when the day gets to be too much all I have to do is step outside my door and listen and let the breeze carry my troubles away.

I had to laugh a little when I remembered something my mom said over the weekend. We were shopping at a furniture store and I had two little signs in my hands - one said "Relax" and one said "Love" - and I was trying to decide whether I wanted one or the other or both. She pointed to "Love" and said, "you have that," and then pointed to "Relax" and said, "you need to figure out how to do that ... take that one."

Funny.

I took the dog outside to sit with me while I finished the last of my beer, strolled around the yard with her in the twilight, and went to bed early, a little calmer, a lot less tense.

Hmph. Who says I don't know how to relax?

Sick and tired ... to sunny and quiet.

That about sums up my day.

I've been sick for ... oh, I don't know ... going on a couple of weeks. It started out as a sore throat and sneezing and watery eyes - I chalked it up to allergies brought on by springy weather - and then after several days I felt really good for ONE day and thought "oh, thank goodness that's over" and then the next morning I woke up with this rattling in my chest and started coughing. And I've been coughing and sneezing and sniffling ever since.

These are the days I rejoice that Steve is home, even though his being here means he is not out there working for a paycheck. He has been cooking and taking care of the kids and generally making sure the house doesn't fall down around us. Oh sure, we would figure it out even if he wasn't here, but it's so much nicer that he is here.

One night my head was so heavy and I felt so cruddy that I went to "lay down for a while" at around 6:30 in the evening and never got up. Around 10 I woke up hungry and stumbled out to the kitchen for a snack. Steve had tucked the kids in and the house was quiet.

God bless this man of mine.

Seems like the universe knew exactly how I was feeling because the weather we've had over the last few days matched my mood. We got a nasty storm Sunday afternoon and evening that covered the ground with snow again. Then a wicked thunderstorm (which I actually enjoyed) wiped most of that snow away again. Yesterday: dreary and drizzly.

But today is sunny and beautiful and it's a welcome change. It's amazing how a little sunshine can lift my mood, even when my whole body aches and I feel like my head is about to explode. A nap with the sun shining through the window is like a cure-all.

So I've been puttering around the house today, clearing a little clutter here and tossing a load of laundry into the washer there. Catching up on some reading. Being inspired as I flip through the pages of the magazines that have piled up recently. Enjoying a good cup of coffee. Watching the kitty stretch and turn as he naps in a chair.

I'm sick and every time I get up to do something it saps what little energy I've garnered. But the sun is shining and I have time to relax and take care of myself, and for that I am thankful.

Maybe it's a phase. Maybe not.

It's time for an overhaul. On everything.

A fresh perspective. Something new.

Well. The husband and children - and maybe even the animals if they straighten up a bit - can stay. But everything else has a target on it.

I'm antsy. I get that way this time of year. I gotta DO something. Scrub everything down with Clorox or gut a closet and reorganize everything or send a chunk of my wardrobe to Goodwill or ... something.

I want to finally cover the dingy walls in the house with color. I want to get rid of this ratty old furniture and replace it with something different. Not new, necessarily, but different.

I want to tear up the carpet in the living room. I don't even need to replace it right now; we all know I'm not afraid to live with sub-floors. I'm just sick of looking at what's there now. I want to get rid of these lamps I hate so much (Sorry mom. I didn't always hate them.) and light my way with something beautiful that I love. Something I chose, not something we decided to use because someone gave it to us. Isn't it funny how we make something work "for the time being" and then 10 years later we still have it?

Usually I start cleaning when I feel like this. It's amazing how different our surroundings can look and feel when they're freshened up a bit. But I think this year it's a little more than spring fever I'm feeling. The past few days I've been channeling my inner 2-yr-old and asking the question "why?" a lot. Why shouldn't I? Why can't I? Why is this always like this? Why do we do it that way?

Why not?

Why wait?

I'll tell you the answer I keep coming back to: there is no good answer. None that we should be mindlessly accepting anyway.

Sometimes the answer is because we don't have the money to do that right now. Sometimes it's because that feels like too much of a splurge. Sometimes we don't need it, or don't need to do it. Or we don't have the time. Or ... my favorite ... that's just crazy! Why would we do/change/eat/say/watch/try that?

If I dare to go deeper I'd probably admit to a little self doubt. Maybe I'm not worthy of having or doing whatever it is. Lord knows I've had my struggles with self esteem and self worth over the years and I'm always susceptible to letting that creep back in. I hate that. It makes me want to not just get rid of those lamps I hate so much, but break them up into tiny little pieces before I throw them in the trash.

I'm angry. Antsy and angry. Great combination, eh?

No worries. I'm not going to do anything stupid. I've just been doing a lot of thinking these past few days and it's made me consider the possibility of rearranging some priorities. And that's saying something because I thought I had my priorities pretty well in order, or at least well on the way to it.

So there it is. I hate being cliche but it's the ol' "someone I love just died and it reminded me how short life is and that I should live it to the fullest" junk. And that's OK. I just need to harness all this energy and do something positive with it. And I will. No excuses.

No regrets.

Today I start answering the question "why?" a little differently.

Today I start answering the question "why?" with another question: Why not?

Why I let the dog sleep on our bed. Sometimes.

One of the struggles of the life we lead is having to figure out how to do just about everything long-distance.

Parenting. Budgeting. Encouraging each other. Consulting on vehicle and home repairs. Keeping each other posted on things of note. Saying goodnight.

Comforting each other. (This is where the dog comes in.)

It's been difficult to not have Steve here to hug me when I really need it lately. I know he's been concerned about me and how I am holding up as my grandmother's failing health has all but consumed my days. I keep telling him I'm OK. At least as OK as a person can be when they're losing a loved one.

Oh, I have my moments. Late one night when I couldn't sleep I had my own little sobfest. My heart hurts a little every time I walk through the kitchen and see grandma's extra set of eyeglasses sitting on the counter. I pause when I rifle through my purse for lunch money for the kids and one of the items I set aside is grandma's coin purse - the coin purse she would so lovingly pull a $20 bill from to pay for lunch on the days I took her out.

I took her to have her hair done and we went out to lunch just two weeks ago. Now she's not really eating at all.

Two weeks ago I would hold her hand to keep her steady while she walked from point A to point B. Now we hold her hand while she lies in bed and fades in and out of lucidity.

It was so recently that I hung a picture of grandma on the door of her room so everyone would know this is where you could find Leona. Now she hangs in the balance and all we can do is tell her we love her and that it's OK to leave this room, this world, this life.

Sad? Yeah. Of course it is. But there are so many blessings in this, and I am thankful. One of those blessings is that Steve is doing what he is doing so I can be here at home. I have had the opportunity to care for my grandma and visit her often and spend the most amazing weeks with her, all because Steve's job provides well enough for us that I can be a homemaker.

Steve has given me the gift of time, and I love him for it.

Yes, it stinks that I can't just come home and ask him to hold me while I process all these emotions. But we do what we can. Writing here - writing anywhere - is therapeutic for me. And last night Steve and I had a great conversation via on-line chat (because for whatever reason sometimes that's just easier than talking on the phone) and he helped me sort through some of my feelings and let me vent my frustrations. And he made me laugh. And cry. Both of which I really needed.

We do what we can, and we enjoy the times we are together. When we're not together we figure out ways to make our marriage and life in general work for us. It involves a lot of prayer, a lot of communication with each other, a lot of give and take, and many supportive friends and family members.

There are times when I'm absolutely fine and I sail through the days, and there are times when I feel like my boots got stuck in the mud and I just can't take it anymore.

Either way, good days or bad days, The Pipe Life or some other kind of life, I can't imagine navigating through it with anyone else. For the blessing of such a wonderful partner, I am eternally grateful.

And yes, for the goofy hound dog who always turns three circles before she can lie down, the one who twitches and whines in her sleep while she dreams of treeing raccoons, the one who will sniff at my hair and then sneeze in my ear ... for the comfort of having some warm, breathing being curled up next to me, I am thankful.

I think Steve will forgive me for occasionally allowing Ladybug to sleep on the bed with me. I promise I don't let her use his pillow.