Clearing a Path - Making Room For Change

I ordered a book today. Actually, I ordered two. Two identical books because I have a feeling this book will be too good to keep to myself. The book? "The Path Made Clear: Discovering Your Life's Direction and Purpose", by Oprah Winfrey.

In this life of mine, I have a few regrets. One of them being, that I didn't go to see Oprah when she came to Our Fair City to speak several years ago. A friend went and shared her enthusiasm over Oprah's talk. I remember little of what my friend said but I clearly remember her enthusiasm as she relayed the inspirational words Oprah spoke and instant regret, that I hadn't gone.

Today, I learned Oprah has a new book. The table of contents alone, have captured my interest and I can't wait to sit in a sunbeam and soak up this book. "The Path Made Clear ..." sounds like it may be exactly what I am looking for.

Life is ever evolving. I find myself going with the flow of it at times, questioning it at others and wanting to live a purposeful life. Some days I think I'm on the right track, other days feel like I'm running on a hamster wheel going no where. 

I am not making any plans to change the course I'm presently on but I certainly wouldn't mind looking up and beyond this moment in time and look towards the future. I want to listen to the whispers of my mind, plant seeds, nurture that which I want to grow and steer my life in a direction that excites me. 

Housecleaning is certainly not at the top of that list. Been there, done that, wish I didn't have to do it all again tomorrow. But maybe since I have tended to some of my household cleaning, I have literally created a clear path to sit still and hear the whispers of my mind.

Housecleaning - What a Waste of a Sunday

Let the record show that our house was clean at precisely 4:20 p.m, Sunday, March 31, 2019. It may never be this clean again. This main floor laminate may be the death of me.

I vacuumed the upstairs quickly last night before company dropped by. It wasn't a thorough job (walls, doors and baseboards were not part of last night's quick clean), so before I washed down the floor today I had to re-vacuum and fine tune the job.

While I vacuumed, I started washing sheets. My sheets, the guest room #1 sheets and sheets from guest room #2's two beds. These beds had been clean but the cats have been sleeping on the beds, atop the blankets and/or under the blankets. Cat hair was everywhere. Quilts were washed and/or vacuumed.

While the bedding was being washed, I washed floors.

A very helpful salesperson recommended a floor cleaner and advised me to mix it 50% cleaner and 50% water. I hoped this diluted solution would be the ideal mix so I wouldn't have to rinse the floors after they were washed.

I was not so lucky. Not only did the cleaner leave a slightly sticky film, the scent was overwhelming.

While the floors dried and aired out a bit, I washed the outside of the living room and kitchen windows. I was afraid my window washing may end up more of a window smearing so I stopped and started with the living room and kitchen.

I hoped while I was out window washing, the slightly sticky and overly perfumed floors would dry and all scent and film would be gone by the time I came back inside. This didn't happen but I went into denial and thought I would just leave said floors alone. It would be okay. It was probably just my socks that had picked up the film and scent, right?

Wrong.

I have just finished rinsing all of the floors I previously washed (upstairs and down), with water and vinegar. Surely to goodness this will be good enough. I hope I find some cleaning shortcuts as I go along. If I don't, our cats may have to go.

The windows turned out just fine. What cleanser is the winner of the day? Vinegar and water.

Our house may never be this clean again. I just want it to be known that as of this moment in time, it WAS clean. Please excuse me while I sit and stare at the cleanliness for what remains of the day.

Obviously, I'm not cooking tonight. One can't be expected to clean AND cook too.

He Would Have Been 94

It's Dad's birthday today. It feels impossible to think he would have been 94 years old. We lost the essence of him before he reached his 58th birthday.

Whispers of the memory of Dad still come to the surface but it is all pretty repetitive stuff. Memories I've recalled on many occasions, stories relayed by his brothers, family and friends. It's all comforting and familiar.

This week, my aunt mentioned my uncle (Dad's brother) used to mark his tools with four marks, which signified his birth order in the family. The minute she said this, I recalled my brother mentioning Dad marked his tools with (was it??) two lines or marks of some sort.

Did I remember this correctly? Was it two notches? He was the second oldest in the family so it makes perfect sense.

It is just a little unknown fact that was revealed to me. It was an unexpected gift on an regular, ordinary day.

I recall a little memory of Dad that came to me in and around the time of this conversation. It was a long, forgotten memory that was nudged to the surface. I can't put my finger on what it was right now but it was another "touched by an angel" kind of moment. Just a small gift when I least expected it.

I'm so grateful to live a life where I'm in a position to be around people who knew Mom and Dad before I existed and speak the language of family, friends/neighbors and stories I've heard all my life.

I knew I was "coming home" when I moved my young family out here after Dad died. I had hopes and dreams of knowing the family I came from but had no idea how that would come to be.

It has been a slow and gradual process. Collecting our family's memories has been a gift which has kept on giving. I became grounded as I came to know both Mom and Dad's family and continue to feel like a vital part of our extended family.

I read this (slightly paraphrased) yesterday:

"If we build our lives on shaky foundations, we should not be surprised when things start collapsing."

The words resonated somewhere deep within me. I started building a firm foundation for my little family when we moved out here. This foundation has been shaken but it has never faltered. And it has only gotten stronger throughout the years.

Nestled in this house I like to call home, living in and among family, I feel so very deeply rooted that I feel I could weather most any storm. When little rays of light shine unexpectedly shine through a day and I'm gifted with a renewed memory of Mom or Dad, I marvel at the good fortune to be living a life I truly meant I was meant to live.

I rebuilt a home on a foundation of family, history and stability. I felt Dad's nod of approval as I made this move 31 years ago and I still his essence within me, my thoughts and beyond.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Thank you for being who you were, leading a good, honorable life which was built on a foundation solid enough to build a family unit which is so united. I'm so grateful to be known as your daughter.

I Needed to Know I Tried

I woke up with thoughts of an irreparable relationship on my mind.

I had recently made a half hearted attempt to step through the past and simply move forward from where we are today. It didn't work.

"I tried." Those were the words I wrote down before I fell asleep last night. I tried.

 When I awoke, those very words were still speaking to me. Had I tried hard enough before everything fell into a state of disrepair? I truly believe I did.

I have held onto an envelope full of "evidence" I have never looked at since this relationship fell apart the final time. This morning, for the first time since I tucked that written correspondence away, I am tempted to reread the contents.

That broken relationship runs through my mind a lot these days.

"There are two sides to every story", I remind people as I relate the tales of my past. I am accountable for my actions. There were two people involved. Both parties were hurt. Innocent parties were hurt. I walked away for the sake of my children and I know in my heart of hearts I did the right thing. I know this. I believe this. I did what I had to do.

But out there, lies someone who is terminally ill. Their days are numbered. I find myself wondering what is going through their mind as they live their final days. I don't profess to know much, if anything, about their life after "us", but I used to know this person well. I just wanted to remind him we made many happy memories together. I loved him as much as knew how at the time. His life made a difference.

It is something I think I would appreciate hearing as my days wound down to a close. I just wanted to "do unto others"...

Out there, is a family who is wounded. I can't begin to imagine the walk they are walking. Everyone handles their pain differently. I believe I am a stranger to their brand of hurt but as a parent, I can only imagine ...

I simply wanted to offer to sit still with them as they feel, live and walk through this time. I'm the last person in the world they want to see but I feel responsible for my part in the past and I had hoped to offer my presence.

I am the wrong person, at the wrong time. But I tried.

The energy of the world knew what I needed before I needed it. I was just about to come home from my day and sit still with my thoughts when another person from another relationship from another time called out and invited me to go for coffee.

This too, was a broken relationship from years gone by. Again, there are two sides to this story. I did my fair share of damage to this relationship. We parted ways but despite the hurt, anger and heart ache we stayed connected throughout the years.

There are two sides to every story.

I am grateful for a parallel story which reminds me that it does take two people to make or break a relationship. Before, during and after. I'm grateful for the reminder that although I am responsible for my side of what went wrong within "us", I'm just as responsible for what has gone right.

I needed to be reminded of this. I am grateful.

I needed to know I have tried. I did. It is time to set this free.

Trusting the Pause

The long wait for our new front door continues. The door and all options pertaining to said door have been chosen. At last.

As frustrated as I felt at the delay over something that could have been ordered, installed and paid for by now, I had to talk myself down and remind myself to trust the pause.

If I had forged ahead with the initial estimate, the professional door installers most likely would not have tended to installing the baseboards and trim that is already on hand. They definitely wouldn't have included painting the door as an added part of their service.

If I had acted more quickly, the bill would have been due and payable by now.

I'm searching my brain for more "pros" for this delay but I'm coming up empty. The old front door (and a sliding door which could have and should have been replaced) is all I can see within this freshly redone main floor.

Isn't that always the case? It matters not how many things have been crossed off the to-do-list, because the list is so short right now, all I can see is that which is left to be done. Which is pretty very minimal, all things considered.

Perhaps this delay will unveil a few more tasks I can ask my handy dandy reno guy to tend to while he is already here. It may cost a little more than the door and door alone but I am pretty sure when all is said and done, I will be grateful for the delay.

When things don't unfold in a manner in which you hope, trust the pause. Trust there is a purpose to putting your dreams on hold.

Looking at life backwards, I have always found delays are well worth the wait.

I Cried Because I Had No Shoes

I knew this day would eventually come but oh, how I wish it wasn't true. I have tried to replace my shoes with a pair exactly like them and it seems they are no longer in stock. I have searched the Internet and Walmart stores in two provinces. I can't find my shoes.

I've also been in search of some "unders" which need replacing. Again, what I had and worked well for me no longer exists as far as my eyes can see. I tried what I thought would work, bought it and when I tried to wear it, found it was unwearable. Rats. I knew this day would eventually come to pass.

I did find replacement jeans last week and only ordered one pair. I am considering going back and ordering a lifetime supply before they stop production.

After searching high and low (according to the standards of a person who despises shopping), while I was out-of-province this past weekend, I finally found some end tables I was willing to purchase. When we assembled them, there was a scratch on the top of one of the tables and we were unable to screw one leg on. While common sense told me I should just return the table, I was quite sure I hadn't seen them in our local store so my son persevered until he found a way to attach the forth leg. I just went online to try to find the table - "Not Available".

At this very moment in time, I have a replacement purse, a replacement curling iron, a replacement pillow and a few "rejects" from the past in the line of shoes that may just have to suffice.

I feel like I am lost in a "Where's Waldo" picture, as I search the universe for what has worked for me in the past. Could it possible that I may find something superior, to replace that which I seek and can no longer find?

It doesn't seem likely. It is no wonder I kept going back to the men in my life. I kept trying the relationship back on for size to see if I could make it fit. I never did succeed. So I gave up.

My feet may never be the same. I may need to move to a country where summer shoes are all that is required. Yikes!! I didn't look to see if I could find replacement sandals while I was out and about. What if ... I can't even consider that possibility.

Surely I jest. As I rant about things that really don't matter, these are the words that run through my thoughts:

“I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet” ~ Helen Keller

I am blessed. I know this. This post was a waste of words. But I cannot tell a lie. These are my thoughts of the moment. "First world problems", my brother would quietly insert at this point.

My brother and Helen Keller are very wise. I will remember their words as the days unfold and I must replace that which has worked in the past with something new.

Spring Cleaning (at last!)

My car has been dirty since the onset of winter. It was either too warm (aka: messy) or too cold (aka: frozen doors/locks) to wash it during the winter so I was waiting for spring. Then it became a matter of melting, freezing, puddles and a wide variety of excuses.

Last weekend, I hit the highway. I knew THIS was my opportunity to wash the car's exterior and have the car stay relatively clean all weekend.

I didn't manage to wash the car until Saturday evening. Unfortunately this event took place at the same time my "Check Engine" light came on, so my excitement over driving a clean car was superseded by concern over this amber light.

Because the "Check Engine" light came on, I was reading the car manual as I awaited my turn in the car wash, thus I didn't notice the reflection of my car lights on the closed car wash door. So I didn't realize one of my headlights was burned out until I noticed my lights reflecting off my brother's vehicle (while we were stopped at a light on our way out for breakfast the next morning).

I drove my semi-clean-with-one-head-light car, with the check engine light staring at me the whole way home and all I could focus on was all that needed to be tended to.

I didn't fully appreciate my nice, clean car until it was nestled back safely in our garage at home, with a date with the mechanic to check out the car's light situation. The moment I knew all was falling into place is the moment I couldn't wait to vacuum the car's interior.

It wasn't a full on spring cleaning but I did erase winter's presence within the car. I swiped down a few surfaces, shone up the windows with the cleaning supplies I had on hand and removed my back-up winter coat and warm gloves from the back seat of the car.

While the car was at the garage getting fixed, I tended to collecting some of the renovation debris which had been shovelled onto the lawn. I swept the sawdust off the deck boards. I raked a small piece of the grass to spread out the layer of wet sawdust which had amassed.

I breathed in the warm spring day and marvelled at the joy of spring cleaning. I washed down the interior of our living room windows and wished for more time so I could tend to the outside.

When my car was ready for pick up, I simply felt joyful as I slid into the driver's seat. It felt marvelous to rid the car of the evidence of a long, cold winter. I drove down the dry, dusty streets of the city and felt like the weight of winter fell off my shoulders.

Ahhh ... the joy of spring cleaning. It feels good to let go of winter and forge into a new season. Now I can't wait to wash windows!

Winter still has the power to come back in full force before it is gone for good. But it still feels so very good to clean up the layers of winter which have been accumulating the past six months. I'm so ready to put this winter behind us and I am eternally grateful for the mild spring weather which is giving me the luxury of dreaming AND cleaning.

Spring cleaning never felt this good.

Back to Life as I Know It

It never fails. It matters not how much I think I want to leave, coming home is ALWAYS the best part of going away.

The minute I had my head set on heading home, the count down began. How soon could I get there? How much could I accomplish once I got home? How much time would I have to myself at the end of the day? 

The closer I got to home, the calmer I felt. 

I didn't leave home to find answers. I left to hear myself think. The five hour drive each way provided me all the time I needed to find my own answers.

Answers. Does anyone really want someone to TELL them what to do? Or do most people simply need to hear their words outside their own head to hear what you need to hear when you bounce your thoughts off another human being?

I certainly wasn't looking for anyone to solve the mysteries of my life. Mostly I needed to space myself away from life as I know it. 

As good as it felt to get away, it feels better to be back. 

The Next Best Thing

My urge to run out to Mom's has been satisfied. I allowed my angsty feelings to overrule common sense and made some inquiries to see if I could follow my whims this weekend.

It turns out it was very possible. I'm here. Wrapped in the arms of family, friendship and familiarity. Those "3 F's" fill my soul. I'm glad I came.

The spontaneity of my actions have made this a very laid back visit. I was able to meet up with one friend and visit like we had all the time in the world. Our visit felt mutually life affirming.

Although this wasn't the plan, I feel like I have overtaken my brother's family this weekend. We have visited like we have rarely visited before. And it has been good.

The drive. Oh, the drive! I have missed it so. I love how my thoughts flow when I'm on the open road.

I had a lot on my mind. Being confined to my car for five solid hours, with no no other distractions other than driving on my mind, I had the chance to think my thoughts through and through.

At home, I lose myself in my habits of distraction. Scrolling, Netflixing, sleeping and eating are mind numbing. In the car, I have no where to go and nothing to distract me (Mother Nature did her job of keeping my eyes on the road as no sign of wild life or birds distracted me either).

Nothing has changed but my perspective. I have simply taken a step away from life as I know it and have given it a little distance. I have no idea if any answers will come to me on my five hour drive home or not. Sometimes the answer is not an answer but simply a fresh perspective.

I ran away this weekend. Now it is time to run back home. Back to my family, friends and the familiar place I like to call home.

I wasn't able to run out to Mom's this weekend, but this has been the next best thing. I think Mom would agree.

Hello, Anxiety

Hello Anxiety, I've come to talk with you again ...

I have frittered away the morning seeking ways to escape my thoughts. How can I best utilize the upcoming weekend to refill my resources?

One forward step at a time.

If Mom was here, I would head out to see her. She would have straight shooting advice for me. I would tell her all the reasons I will keep following the course I'm on. She would tell me otherwise.

She was one wise woman.

She saw this day coming. I knew she was right. I just didn't think it would happen so soon.

Oh, Mom. I miss you today....

I Hope It's Just the Moon

I started getting this "angsty" feeling this past weekend. Low confidence, over-thinking, anxiety ridden kinds of thoughts. This is not my regular day-to-day kind of thinking so I hoped it was "just the moon" and this too, would pass.

We are knee deep into the week and I can't loose the angst. The moon is full. Apparently it is a super moon or some such thing. We are fresh into the new season of spring. Perhaps something celestial is behind my unease.

The cats are restless. Jet, our bored kitty, is scratching doors, couches, bugging his partner in cathood, sleeping under the covers in ALL of the spare beds and just generally being a bit of a pest. He wants to go outside in the worst way. After dealing with the never-ending cat hair around her since our installation of laminate (which does NOT suck up cat hair the way our former wall-to-wall carpeting did), I'm half tempted to set him free. If it were not for the chip embedded under his skin which would guarantee his return home, I fantasized for a fraction of a second about letting him go ...

This is NOT my norm!

I toyed with the idea of hitting the highway and going to visit friends this upcoming weekend. I am craving the presence of people who have known me "forever" and vice versa. Laughter. Joy. Friendship. Youth. Energy. Vitality ...

I'm missing my Renovators. For five solid weeks, I felt the presence of youth, energy and vitality. Fresh ideas, creativity and watching the gradual evolution of "what was" to "what is" was life affirming. I had a life outside my regular work-week which infused me with new thoughts and a zeal for life I had been missing.

It must be Spring Fever. I feel Jet's inner desire to run out the door and see what adventures await. This unease is propelling me away from the safety and security I feel within these walls of ours. Perhaps it is not such a bad thing after all.

Is it the moon? Is it Spring Fever? Is it time for a change? Time will tell. In the meantime, the open door is calling out to me (and our cat). Maybe it's time to open the door and follow the path of least resistance...

Spring

Spring is calling my name and I think I need to answer its call.

I am having flashbacks to my daycaring days and feeling the pull of becoming one with nature, sitting in a sunbeam, going for long walks and counting the signs of spring.

Spring was both my favorite and most dreaded season of the year while operating my daycare. With the warmer days came mud, puddles and mess. But it didn't take all that long for things to dry up so we could bask in the dawn of a new season of sunshine.

I just read something this morning that resonated within me and eased my guilt a little. It said while parenting, you may lose your mind a little bit. But you find your soul. I read the words and they settled deep inside me. It described how I felt while I ran my daycare.

I miss my daycare days at times.

Sleep, good food, fresh air and exercise cured a lot of what ailed the children under my care. Sometimes they needed a little time out. Sometimes they needed a little extra attention. There were very few things a nap didn't cure.

Now, I walk through my days and those who I spend my time with need much of what my younger daycare crowd needed. But it's all out of my control. I can suggest. I can hope. I can try. But mostly I listen.

I miss the complexity combined with the simplicity of watching over my little ones. I miss the "heaven on earth" moments where all I did was simply hover and enjoy the moments in the sun. The moments when no one knew I was watching. The moments of harmony, innocence and pure unadulterated joy.

Unadulterated. What a word. We become adults and our childlike joy and innocence becomes lost to us.

A friend of mine said it best when she compared her world where she devoted her time and energy to her aging parents, to my daycare world. She said while I was a part of helping young people become more independent, her time was spent walking by her parents' side as they lost their independence.

Aging is not for the faint of heart.

Oh, how I crave to simply sit in a sunbeam and listen to my older friends reminisce about the seasons of their lives. I long for fresh air, sun, laughter and joy. I need to find it so I can share it with those around me.

I wish to find a way to bring that sunshine and light into our day. Everyone needs a dose of childlike innocence and joy.

I want to walk through a pasture and look for the first crocus. I want to be still and have a rabbit cross my path so I can marvel at its transformation from winter white to the springtime evolution to its summer browns. I want to listen to the birds and watch for the migration of the southern birds coming north for the next few seasons.

Most of all, I want to do all of the above before the ticks, canker worms and mosquitoes wake up. This season is short. I just want to hold onto that which brings me joy and feel a little of the "soul" I remember from my daycaring days...

Hello Darkness

Without a doubt, one of my most favorite things about our renewed home is the lighting. As pleased as I am with all the new light fixtures, switches and ability to dim several of the lights, the under-counter lighting in the kitchen is my favorite.

As our daylight hours grow by the day, I keep wondering what time I would have to get up in order to enjoy the early morning glow of the under counter lighting before the sun wakes up and starts shining through the windows.

The lack of living room blinds made it impossible to block the light by any artificial means. I was almost as grateful for the inability to postpone the daylight as I was for the glow of the under counter lighting.

I found the minimal white light within the darkness soothing. It felt like an invisible hug as I padded quietly through the morning in our dimly lit kitchen. It calmed my soul.

Our living room blinds arrived last week. They are up, fully operational and do a very good job of darkening the room.

This morning, I paused before I opened the blinds. I wanted to block the sunlight so I could enjoy what I found within the darkness. I shook my head in wonder. "You want to do what?!", I admonished myself.

I found a way to cope with the darkness. I didn't want to let it go.

I then wondered about all of the parallels within that realization.

I started using the TV to tune out my thoughts while mending a broken heart. I realized I could tune out the words that were keeping me awake at night by turning on the television and focusing my thoughts on a program that interested me. The minute I stopped thinking, I fell asleep. Every time.

I use that coping mechanism to this very day.

I use food in a similar manner. Food comforts and consoles me even when I'm already full. Food is my reward for getting through the day. Any day. All days.

As I pulled open the living room blinds to welcome the daylight despite my love of the darkness, it brought my other coping mechanisms to light.

Once you become comfortable within the darkness, there is a sense of safety and security within the cocoon you create.

Don't be afraid to let in the light. Go towards the light. That is where you find life, love and purpose.

The words, "Hello Darkness, my old friend..." haunt my soul. I can feel the gravitational pull towards the comfort I feel there.

Spring? You are arriving just in time. Thank you for forcing me towards the light.

Dollars and Sense

It never ceases to amaze me how "numbers" always seem to work out when I watch them carefully.

I had a finite number of dollars I was willing to pay for our recent renovations. These numbers didn't equate to the exact number in my bank account because I paid for some expenses within my monthly spending perimeters. But when I tallied up all of the renovation expenses, they did not exceed my bank starting balance by much. And after all was said and done, I actually had money left over.

In a perfect world, this amount would have gone towards a new front door. I checked in on the aforementioned door this morning and I found it has to be special ordered. The anticipated wait time for this? Four to six weeks.

I had an appointment to get my income taxes done this morning. Our friendly neighborhood taxation department will give me until April 30th to pay the amount I owe them. Again, I have about six weeks to cover this bill.

Interesting fact. The amount I have left in the account I was using to pay for our renovations is short only $9.45 of what I need to pay in income tax. I calculated the amount of interest I expect to receive at the end of the month and after my interest is paid, the shortfall is only $6.44.

I knew what my tax bill was going to be so I have allowed for that in my budget. I was going to have the amount saved up by the end of April. There is quite literally no shortfall.

I can get my door and pay my taxes too.

When I watch over my pennies, the dollars take care of themselves. It all makes perfect dollars and sense.

Feeling Wordless

It was a restful weekend. Very laid back and enjoyable. Except I didn't accomplish anything worthy, thus I am slipping back into this new work week feeling rather unfulfilled. 😶

Yes, I finally took time to sit still with a book in our sunny renewed living room. But in order to stay awake to read it, I ate. I ate so much. Oh, my achin' stomach. 😧

Yes, I stayed home ALL weekend. My favorite kind of weekend is one where the car never leaves the garage. In staying home, I stayed inside and missed the spring weather which was literally right on our doorstep. 😔

The phone was quiet and I made precious little contact with the outside world. After months of busyness, dare I say I missed the hustle bustle. Just a bit. 😯

I vacuumed cat hair off the doors, walls, baseboards and floor. Enough said. 😼😒

I worked on income taxes. 😓

I cooked a few meals.😋

I fed a few family members who showed up unexpectedly on the doorstep. I felt a little bit like Mom when I did that. 😇

Be careful what you wish for. This is the weekend I've been waiting for all year. My wish came true. Now I find myself wishing for another weekend so I can accomplish all that I should have with this wasted weekend. 😫

Balance. It's all about the balance. Work, play, leisure, food, family and fun. There was not enough work, no play, too much food and leisure, a rather perfect dusting of family but not a lot of extra-curricular "fun". 😐

This weekend has left me uninspired and somewhat wordless. Thus, I have decorated this post with emojis. I have no words. Only thoughts. And emoji expressions.

It is time to create a week worthy of thoughts, words and heartfelt emotion. Happy Monday!!

My Meandering Mind (aka: Wasting Time)

I have just frittered away two hours this morning and have nothing to show for it but a load of washed, dried, folded and put-away laundry. Had it not been for the fast passage of time which was marked by the above chore, I would not have realized how fast time flies while I am doing nothing.

As I tried to chase down my thought processes as I have effectively wasted a morning, the chain of unrelated events went something like this:

This process was triggered by a survey question: "How much have you spent on clothes in the past 12 months?"

Categories of the amount spent were provided. I guessed that I had not spent more than $500, but I needed wanted to confirm this by checking my record of spending over the course of the past year.

I found this:

Total spent on clothing: $357.64 (more or less)
Total spent on pajamas:  $104.47 (included in total spent on clothing)
Total spent on socks:      $ 53.08 (also included in the total spent on clothing)

Interesting. I spent half my clothing budget on pajamas and socks?! "If so, how much did I spend on hair color?" I wondered.

Answer: I have spent $ 53.02 spent on hair color in the past year.

Interesting. Very interesting ... I have invested as much money on my hair, as I have my feet. This makes a lot of sense because my feet and my hair probably take up an equal amount of real estate within my mind.

Funny how the dollars and cents relate so comparably to my thoughts.

I don't even want to know how much I spent on take out and restaurant food last year. Or do I???

....

....

Total amount on restaurant and take out? $2,274.89 (Please note that this total includes three holidays and the fact that my gifts to people is often a restaurant meal)

There goes another hour that I should have been spending on preparing my paperwork for my appointment to get my income taxes done. I wonder if any of these expenditures are deductible. I shall ask! It'll be a good diversion during what will prove to be an expensive hour.

Delicate Balance of Life and Living

Life is a balancing act. The components within said life are ever-changing and always evolving. The only thing one can count on in life (besides death and taxes), is change.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm not a big fan of change. But it keeps happening anyway. The secret is to maintain some balance within those times of flux.

There is a delicate balancing act required between work, play, self preservation, relationships, give/take, yin/yang and an infinite number of components one fits into a lifetime.

I'm at a rather enjoyable stage where I'm ready to fit "people" back into my days. It is not as easy as it sounds. At least not for me ...

I'm a morning person. By the time I get home each evening, I'm done. I've used all the tricks I've had up my sleeve to push through whatever the day brings.

The ebbs and flows of "life" keep things interesting. Pushing through challenges both exhaust and energize me. I just read a quote this morning that resonated within me:

"I've never met a strong person with an easy past." ~ Atticus 

Let me just say that I've had a week that has made me a stronger (and hopefully a little wiser) person. It was the kind of week where I should have worked five days but in my hope to add a little balance back into my work-oriented world, I made plans with a friend today. 

Today is a bonus day. I should be working. But since I'm not, I felt it was important to do something I never feel like I have the time to do. Friendship. It is an important component to the balance I'm seeking.

I am so blessed with the relationships I have within my friends, family and work world. They sustain me. Many these relationships are maintained through long distance means of communicating. Telephone, emails and texts keep me connected to those who are important to me in a manner in which I CAN sustain. It is the local variety of friendships which are suffering.

I've come a long way. I no longer crave solitude in the manner and quantity I needed before. But I do still love, love, love the way I feel when I am home. Alone within these walls of ours, reaching out to friends and family in a manner which I can do from the comfort of home, in my pajamas and "just the way I am".

I'm working to add a dimension to a balance which is working for me. Adding "socializing outside of my home" to this equation is hard. Thus, I created an opening for it during my regularly scheduled work week. And I feel just a tad guilty about that ...

Balance. It is a tricky concept. It is ever changing and evolving. But creating that balance that works for you within the here and now is life affirming. 

The need for this balance is most likely why I am still very stingy with my time outside of my work week. I'm doing well. I have been inviting people into our home on a regular basis since our renovation. It is a way to merge all that is important to me and keeps me feeling in balance. 

I am visualizing weigh scales in my mind as I write these words. Add a little too much on one side or the other and the balance is out of whack. I have been weighing heavy on the side of solitude for a long time. This was offset by the weight of the world on the other side of the scale.

The world is feeling a little lighter now. I'm ready to add a dose of socializing to my side of the scale. It's just a matter of how to fit this into what is already feeling pretty balanced and serene.

I will just keep inviting people into our home. That's all there is to it.

Questions That Make Me Ponder

I drop by to visit my aunt on a regular basis. Our visits have become routine, somewhat repetitive and familiar. She often asks me the same questions and yesterday as I listened to my own answers, I heard something I have never heard before.

Q: Do you miss your daycare?
A: No

Later on, she asked me:

Q: Do you miss dancing?
A: No

I shook my head at the realization that despite the differences within those two questions, the similarity was in my answer.

Both of those times were perfect for me as I was living my life forward.

Yes, there were several challenges in running a daycare but those challenges strengthened me, made me a better communicator, instilled "writing" as my coping mechanism and brought out a part of myself I may never had found, had I not stuck with my daycare through thick and thin.

As challenging as some moments were, they were heavily outnumbered by the mundane, routine and speckled with an assortment of "Heaven on Earth" moments. Watching children contentedly at play, when they have no idea you are watching them is bliss. Pure bliss.

I had to quit daycaring when the challenges outweighed the bliss on a much-too-regular basis. It wasn't an easy decision but it was the right one. I quit for the sake of the children. They needed a more joyful daycare provider. Though I had felt joyful during the majority of my daycare days, it subsided by the end of my daycare career.

It was time to move on. No regrets.

Now dancing on the other hand, was joy. Pure, unadulterated fun and joy. My heart soared during those days. I forgot the world outside the moment I walked through the dance studio doors. Music, laughter, movement, human contact and sharing a passion for dancing within a room of people who felt the same way? There was nothing like it.

I loved every moment of my years within the walls of the dance studio. In the end, a shortage of men to dance with, combined with a shortage of money and bad feet made my decision to stop dancing easier than I ever thought it would be.

I can remember the last time I quit dancing (yes, I started and stopped dancing about as many times as I gave my long term relationships). But the last time? I was quite certain would be THE last time.

And it was. No regrets.

Dancing? Daycaring? These two activities couldn't be more different. Yet the similarity is: when it was time to let it go, I did. I have had no regrets. None.

My aunt asked me what my favorite job was. I didn't have an answer. I could quickly remember my least favorite. But my favorite? That was harder to pin down.

While I'm in the middle of whatever it is going on within my life, whether it is work, recreational or something I do "just for me", it is usually my favorite place to be at the time. When it stops feeling good over a long period of time (absolutely nothing is ideal 100% of the time), is when I start considering my options.

I ponder "where I am at" periodically. More than half the people who touch my life are retired. Again, my aunt asks me regularly about retirement and when I plan to retire. So I have considered my answer on several occasions.

I need to work. Not only because my budget tells me so, but I need it for "me". If I didn't work, I would be frittering away my days. I find this thoroughly enjoyable for a weekend, a holiday or any bonus hour or day that finds me. But for the rest of my life? I think I need more of a purpose than mindless frittering of time.

In a perfect world, I would work from home again. Ever since I ran my daycare and utilized every square inch of our home and yard, I "knew" our home was part of my ideal work situation. I still mull this idea over in my head regularly. Daycaring is definitely out. Senior care in my home? I think that would be too much. Opening a B & B or an Air BnB establishment? I toy with the idea. Renting part of our house? A border?

I don't know.

I just know I am exactly where I am meant to be right now. I have given up what stopped working for me in the past with no regrets. I'm moving into the future as surefooted as any other time in my past. When I look at "the rest of my life", it is too big to comprehend in one fell swoop. When I look at "this year and the next", I'm good with the here and now.

I'm grateful for my regular visits with my aunt. The repetitive questions which make me think, help me find parallels and focus my attention on my answers. I try to vary the content of my answers ever so slightly to keep the conversation fresh. In doing so, I find new perspective.

What questions make you ponder? How many different ways can you answer the same question? Can you find a new perspective by looking at the same scenario differently?

Life is a learning curve. We never stop learning. Everything we encounter is placed before us to teach us something. I value every little thing my aunt is helping me see.

Appreciating What You Have

I am not a fan of change. I have my favorite things and when they wear out on me, I often have a back up supply of exactly what wore out so I can simply replace that which was worn with a brand new version of itself. Life moves on and I don't have to make a big adjustment. It's a win-win situation.

I have a few pairs of my most favorite black pajama pants. I have found a pseudo replacement for them but the waistband isn't quite as comfortable and they just aren't the same. So I have held onto the originals.

My original black pajama pants are still my favorite go-to nightwear item. The hems are worn, they have been washed so many times that the material is semi-transparent. But the waistband remains as comfortable as it was the day I bought them.

They are my magic pants. These pj's have seen me through weight readjustments and still they stand the test of time. They are a little bit like the sparkly black socks Mom bought me ("The Sock Story"). It will be a very sad day when I must let them go.

I was thinking of my worn pajama pants this morning and found an interesting parallel. I don't just hold onto favorite personal items long after they are worn out and loose their sparkle. I hold onto people in exactly the same way.

Those who have touched my life, even in the smallest of ways, are held near and dear to me for all time. It matters not how that relationship went in the end, the relationship itself added something to my life. A story. A memory. A feeling. It taught me something. I may have let the relationship go but I have held onto its value.

Then there are my forever-friends, sister-friends, family who feel like friends and a myriad of those who are an integral part of my life. It matters not, how these people look, age or change. It is how they make me feel that matters.

Old socks, favorite shoes, comfy pajamas and valuable friendships. Hold onto them, no matter how they look. If you must let them go, never forget how they made you feel.

Appreciate what you have in life and you tend to draw more of the same into your world. You are worth it.

The Day of Reckoning

After all is said and done, I can now sit still and look at the "numbers" part of this renovation equation.

I have played with my finances all morning and I can quite honestly say that no debt was incurred in order to pull off this Renovation of the Year.

There has been a bit of a juggling act as I robbed Peter to pay Paul, then paid Paul back but had to borrow from his cousin Patrick. Then there is that nasty guy (let's call him Percival) who would like his share of the Income Tax dollars and I'm still juggling the numbers to make them work.

I am accustomed to making my dollars stretch. It doesn't seem to matter how much or how little expendable cash I have at the end of the month, I seem to create "scarcity" in my budget. It's just how I roll.

As I dealt with a finite number in my savings account, I fought to stay within the perimeters of my allotted renovation budget. This is a far cry from how I tend to think when I'm using credit to finance my wishes. With "credit", comes a thought process (if you are like me) that sounds a little bit like this: "I already owe $__,___.00, so what's a little more?"

When dealing with credit, it is a slippery slope. There is still a finite amount of dollars available to charge up but when one isn't draining a bank account, it is harder to put the brakes on spending.

Even though our home has sustained a substantial amount of renovating, it still has a long way to go before all of its needs are met. I could borrow money to finish the job but I kiboshed that idea pretty quickly. If I started borrowing funds, I could start overspending far too easily.

Moving our existing furniture back upstairs after the renovation was a little anticlimactic. Even though everything from floor to ceiling was refurbished, our preexisting furnishings took the shine off of everything that was new.

My oldest son walked in, commented that this renovation was long overdue and, without taking a breath, added "Now you need a new table ..."

No. I don't. I have everything I need. The "wants" can come at a later date, after the remaining list of things-to-be-done are complete and paid for.

My extra curricular spending after the renovation was complete consisted of mats for the front and back door entrances and closets; a new white fire alarm; and a new wall phone (our previous one had a few non-working issues).

This doesn't mean my wish list is empty. It means I am restraining the spending until my income taxes and new front door are paid in full. Priorities.

I sat outside with our cats the other morning and found my old "dream folder". I enjoyed crossing many items off my previous wish list, while still dreaming of all that is left to be done.

Dad once told me it is human nature to always want more than you have. You think you "just" want one thing. Then when you attain that goal, you automatically set your sights on the next thing. I think of his words and his wisdom every time I reach a point such as this.

You were so right, Dad. Yes, I am thrilled to have done all we have done!! But now ... I just want to do a little more.

"Keep on dreaming, girl! It is truly the best way to live a life. Keep your eyes set on the future and anything becomes possible."

Renewed Standards

As I sit here in the aftermath of my rant about cat hair yesterday, I am now wondering. Is it less about the cat hair and more about becoming fussier?

I had a most wonderful weekend. It was a weekend of puttering. My goal was to deal with the excess of our upstairs, which had accumulated downstairs. A dose of income taxes. With a very nice sprinkling of family.

Saturday was my fun day. I talked with &/or emailed each one of my siblings. We have chosen a date to get together. Fun times ahead! I squeezed in some taxes and then my boys came for supper. The meal turned out well and afterwards, we watched an array of videos featuring each one of my sons. Ahhh. It was a good day!

Sunday was my reality day. I needed to do hard things. I had to start tackling the basement.

One small step at a time, this:

Became this:

I have a car full of recycling to drop off, two empty bookcases to sell or give away and a small box of give away items. I still have boxes of memorabilia, photos and other miscellaneous items to sort through. I need to create an office area to deal with all of the stationary items. But one weekend of puttering followed by another will take care of the rest.

I have overnight guests planning to come stay with us. I have been cooking meals. I have been cleaning and tidying our home on a daily basis. I stepped away from writing this to replenish my coffee and dusted the bathroom fluff, the mouldings on the kitchen cupboards and ran my new "duster" over the baseboards in the hallway.

I long for another day to simply putter away at things. I'm a putterer. It is the way I used to get big jobs done back in my more ambitious days. I simply pulled out a drawer here and there and dealt with the contents. One drawer at a time. One cupboard at a time.

I'm starting to do this again.

I have found a part of myself which has been lost for a very long time, somewhere in the rubble of this renovation. I had become the person I ranted about yesterday. I had become a person who overlooked the dirt, dust and excessive hair because everything underneath it was in dire need of maintenance.

Our renewed home is not fancy or overdone in any way, shape or form. As my oldest son put it when he walked in and saw all that had been done, "It was long overdue ..."

Having refurbished everything from floor to ceiling, it has raised my standards. "Good enough" no longer cuts it. I want to keep on top of things so I don't get so far down under the dirt, dust and cat hair that I stop caring again.

I wrote my rant about cat hair yesterday, visualising vacuuming the clean mop at regular intervals as I kept atop the cat hair upstairs. Then I started dealing with the basement. The process of emptying the upstairs began six weeks ago. Six weeks of cat hair balled up and amassed in, around and under all that had accumulated downstairs. Yesterday, I saw floor I hadn't seen in a very long time. I took the dry mop and captured all the cat hair which had come to rest while I wasn't looking.

When I looked at the mop after my light dusting, the mop was full of black cat hair. It was black. It never looks like that when I mop upstairs. Because the upstairs is ... clean!

Wafting cat hair or not, the upstairs has become a place which is actually clean. Thus, the stray cat hairs are a bother to me.

This renovation has done so much for me. It has shaken me up and awoken a part of me I thought was lost forever. The desire to clean, sort, organize and cull has sparked the part of me who likes inviting people into our home. Not only for a cup of coffee, but a meal with overnight accommodations available as needed.

I remember how delighted I was to find items which had been lost to me as we moved the upstairs, downstairs. Little did I know at the time, I would find myself and my old standards in amongst the excess as well.

Some things have been kept. Others have been discarded, recycled or given away. I think I'll keep my standards. I've missed this part of myself.

What You Can't See ...

We are nine days post-reno and the reality of our new world is seeping in.

The daily vacuuming that took place during the renovation process, to deal with the drywall and saw dust, had a hidden advantage. The state of perpetual vacuuming took care of the daily accumulation of cat hair.

Behold, the hidden advantage (also known as a disadvantage to most people) of wall to wall carpeting, which acts like a cat hair magnet and keeps cat hair at bay.

Yes, the cat hair becomes intertwined among the fibres of the carpet. Yes, the carpet absorbs unknown quantities of dust, debris and a variety of miscellaneous day-to-day living. No, you can't clean a carpet the way you can clean any other kind of flooring.

But ...

Give that carpeting a good old fashioned vacuuming, delight in the fresh tracks of the vacuum cleaner as proof of your hard work and carpeting (in my small, little world) is a delight.

Fast forward to our present day world of wall to wall laminate.

There is no more, nor less cat hair than ever before. But without the static cling quality of carpeting to keep the cat hair stuck to the floor, hair is EVERYWHERE.

Sweeping is a joke. All that does is rile up the hair and stir up that which was once quietly resting on the floor and gives it wings.

Dry mopping with my new handy dandy microfibre mop is no better. I find myself chasing the elusive cat hair and trying to capture it with the mop by lifting it up, then plopping it back down upon the cat hair that got away. Thus, riling up the hair within the mop fibres and the excess hair around the plopping mop.

Even when trying to take a short cut by dry mopping instead of vacuuming, I must drag out the vacuum cleaner to vacuum the mop at several intervals along the way. This is a feat which feels pointless, as there is very little evident hair captured within the fibres of the mop. Thus I know I have left at least half the cat hair behind. Or sent it airborne ...

The airborne hair becomes attached to the sides of the cupboards, atop the white table I set up in the kitchen a few days ago and lo and behold - I even found a lone cat hair inside a cupboard (which is now cat-proof, so I know no cat has set a paw inside).

I wiped the cat hair off the white table in the kitchen every five minutes while awaiting company yesterday afternoon. No cat jumped atop the table in between swiping intervals. Yet the black hair wafted back down upon my previously cleaned surface. Time and time (and time) again.

Vacuuming is really the only answer. Vacuuming every day keeps the cat hair at bay. Is this what my life has now become?

Don't get me wrong. I love the look of our new home. I know laminate was the right way to go. But honestly? Do I look like a person who loves vacuuming THAT much?

I miss our carpets. Yes, I know the cat hair was still there. But it was locked into the carpet fibres in a manner which kept most of the hair confined to the floor until I was ready to deal with it. I'm more of a once-a-week kind of vacuumer.

I am seriously considering inventing a vacuum cleaner which works along the line of a reverse furnace. This central vacuuming unit would run continously and suck up the debris in the reverse fashion of the furnace's output of heat. Great idea, right!?

Some people would weigh the pros and cons of being a pet owner. Not me. The cats are staying. I miss the carpeting. What I couldn't see didn't bother me.

Ahhhh .... Life is Good

The only word that comes to mind as I summarize the moment I'm in is: "Ahhhh ...."

I have completed the task of leaving the house AND coming directly back home this morning. My deed may help save a life. I donated blood this morning.

I could be a hero and I will never know. I feel heroic. I have done the hard things necessary to get to this fine moment in the sun.

As I wrote those words, the past few months flashed through my mind. In reality, I must thank my life in its entirety to put me "exactly where I'm meant to be" today.

I think of all the twists and turns in the road which has brought me to today. As I was living my life forward, I was embarrassed because I kept making so many mistakes along the way. As I look at my life in my rear view mirror, I realize that if any one of those "mistakes" not occurred, I would not be right here. In this moment. Experiencing the "ahhhhhsomeness" of this very moment.

Ahhh! Life IS good.

So many more thoughts accompanied these words but the day got in the way. It was a day of family. And it was ahhhsome.

My Head's Too Heavy

My head feels as heavy as a bowling ball this morning. I think the stressors within my world are crawling into my head, neck and shoulders.

I could feel the stress in my bones as I drove home at the end of the day yesterday. I was cold. My entire body tensed up. I could feel the tension everywhere.

"Relax ... you will feel the heat faster if you just relax", I told myself.

I was almost at my destination when the heat started infiltrating my bones. It felt wonderful. 

Last night's goal was to stop and get my hair cut on my way home. I didn't want to end up with hair too short or a hair cut different than my last one, so I said I wanted a trim.

Big mistake. I have to go back and do this all over again.

Throughout my hair cut, I felt the tension ebb and flow. The hot water felt wonderful. The heat of the hair dryer felt soothing. I was warming up but still the tension remained.

Oh no! There are too many bangs. Oh no! It's too long. Oh no! She's blowing my hair dry without a part. "Relax ... she will feel my tension and it will affect the outcome of my hair. Just relax" I kept telling myself. But the refrain, "Oh no! Oh no! Oh no....." kept chiming through my mind.

I walked out of the salon with static in my hair that I was unable to tame. I felt like a kid who just took off their toque. Aaaack!

My hair doesn't look awful. It just doesn't look good. 

I didn't get home until after 8:30 last night. And now I must go back and do this all over again. 

I went to bed last night with tension wracking my body. No pain. Simply discomfort, distress and a wish for a relaxed and easy night's sleep.

I woke up with a bowling ball for a head this morning. For the first time in forever, I seriously considered seeking out someone who could massage my stresses right out of my neck. 

Instead, I took two pain killers and remembered the little handy dandy battery operated massager I bought a while ago. I sat at the computer and worked on my morning's puzzles as I waited for the effects of the pain killers to kick in, while using up most of the battery power in my mini massager. "Relax ... this will only work if you stop thinking and simply relax. Relax..."

I think it worked. I can carry on with this last work day of the week, which will end back in the hair salon begging them to trim a little extra length off my overgrown locks.

Yes, the stresses in life are all balling up in my neck. I'm taking it all out on my hair. I think my hair stylist felt it.

I just want to curl up with a nice, fuzzy blanket with a pillow that supports my neck in front of our living room window. All weekend. 

Side bar: The lyrics/music of "I'm Too Sexy" keep running through my mind. If you put that music to my revised lyrics, you'll know what I mean:

My head's too heavy for my neck

Too heavy for my neck

So heavy that it hurts

My head's too heavy for today

Too heavy for today

Yesterday, and the day before

My head's too heavy for today

Too heavy for my work

No way I'm working more

'Cause I'm ready for the weekend, you know what I mean

 I'll settle in and enjoy our home

Yeah, our lovely home

Our renewed home, yeah

I'll rest my big ol' head on a pillow...

And feel the stressors fall away.

Time

Time is an elusive thing to me. When I have it, I fritter it away. When I lack it, I use it as an excuse. I can do hard things. I just have to find make the time.

Mornings are where it's at for me. I can do hard things in the morning. I enjoy frittering away my mornings but how I start my day sets the tone for the hours that follow.

Evenings signal quiet, slowing down and low expectations. During our renovations, I managed to do what had to be done at the end of my long days away from home. But I felt depleted instead of energized.

Weekends are "my time". Time to do what revives me. Most of the time I do precious little. Again, prior and during the renovation, I did a lot more with my weekends. Generally, I had one day of accomplishing things. A second day to rest.

I believe I have lost my balance. I seem to be moving in slow motion. The post reno days have not been a time of great accomplishment.

This morning, I decided to make the time to update the photos which adorn our hallway. I ordered the pictures one day, picked them up the next, rested on the third day and changed them this morning.

I can't figure out how one picture used to hang. I either broke something or my son figured out a way to make a missing picture hanger work.

The arrangement and precisely balanced group of photos has been tampered with. Now, in place of a picture of my three sons, I have an empty nail.

One step ahead, two steps back. It's a little bit how time feels to me. I'm given an hour, I waste two. Then I wonder why I don't get anything done.

Living Room With a View

I'm a private person. The moment dusk arrives, I shut all of our blinds and close out the world. I don't want anyone to be able to see inside our home. 

What I've recently discovered is that in shutting out the world so others can't see in, I have been hampering my own view to the world outside our window.

I have missed so much.

During this time of Great Renovation, we lost all of our blinds (aka: privacy) upstairs. The kitchen blinds were spared because they were already new. In fact, they may have been the catalyst to all that followed ...

In the past, when our living room window has been without a covering, I have rigged up sheets in the interim. The window is large, so one sheet wasn't enough. It was an elaborate affair requiring much fuss and ado. During the day, the sheets would remain hanging by one nail which would make the nightly ritual of "closing out the world" a little easier.

During a renovation of massive proportions, hanging up sheets at night was purely impractical. Living in a work zone, amidst a daily dosage of saw dust and relative disarray made the idea of leaving our window unadorned, providing an open concept to the world, outdoors the logical choice. 

I never thought I would say this, but I have been very much enjoying the view.

My morning rabbit spotting ritual has been made ever so much easier. This morning, our friendly neighborhood rabbits came together and put on a little show which I would have missed entirely, had the blinds been up and operational.

I find myself simply standing still and enjoying the view. Even when there is nothing to see. 

Our blinds are on order and our window will remain bare for several more weeks. In fact, I revised the size of the blinds to add a few more inches so when opened, our view will remain unobstructed by the opened blinds. 

Our view is not extraordinary. We look out onto a residential street which is sometimes adorned with a rabbit or two. As I snapped this picture in the twilight hours of the morning so I had an image to accompany this morning's post, I had a déjà vu moment. I've been here before ...

My view this morning

My view from Mom's house, the last time I stayed there

As the main floor of our home has come together, I find myself standing in the middle of all which is very familiar to me. Whether it is by intention or by accident, I feel like I have recreated the feeling I had when I was at Mom's.

The fact that Mom's belongings are sprinkled generously around our home adds to the sensation but I feel grounded and serene. It is as if our home is not only protecting us from the outside elements but I feel its warm embrace.

This house spoke to me from the moment we met. I could visualize creating a home here within these walls. I have resented the work and money it  has taken to maintain and sustain it at times, but at times like this? After gracing its sturdy walls with some fresh paint and loving care? I can almost here the walls say "Thank you, we needed this!"

Ever since I walked away from my marriage with little more than I could carry, I vowed I would never become attached to material belongings. That which can be taken away is not worth carrying a high value. Despite that fact, I have forged an attachment to this house enough call it "home".

I love the way I feel within these walls of ours. I love coming home no matter what state of repair or disrepair our house has fallen into. 

I remember falling in love with the feeling I had within the walls of the home I created in a time long ago and far away.

I recall the same feeling enveloping our home when we first moved to Saskatoon. Safety, comfort, warmth and a place to lay our weary heads at the end of each day.

It has always been about "home". Not the "house". 

A home can be created almost anywhere you feel safe and protected from the outside elements.

I am feeling incredibly grateful for this house which has been home to us for almost 25 years. It has provided so much more than the creature comforts of a house. 

It not only has a living room with a view ... it is home. A home with a view.

Waiting for the Weekend

Oh, how I wish I could simply stay home today.

Now that our great Renovation Project is all but behind us, all I want to do is curl up with a good book and breathe in the serenity of our home.

All the should have, could have, would have's are plaguing me this morning. I should have and could have done so much more with the weekend in my rear view mirror. But I didn't.

I did little things. I did more than I have done in the past. I also relaxed. And I slept.

On one hand, I feel energized and renewed. On the other hand, I'm tired. Just tired.

I wish I could simply snuggle up on a couch today. I'm not really in the mood to face the oncoming week.

Only four more days to go ... and I have no where I have to be. I can't wait.

Home ... Is Where Your Story Begins

I am at the stage I could only wish for one short year ago.

The acuteness of "missing Mom" has been gradually replaced by a feeling of remembering not only Mom, but Dad as well, as life moves on in a forward direction.

I heard myself speak of Mom and Mom alone for a very long time after she died. I longed for the day when those thoughts of Mom would be interspersed generously with thoughts of both Mom and Dad.

Dad died 31 years ago. He suffered brain damage from a massive heart attack almost five years before he died. We lost Dad so gradually (even though in retrospect, I now realize we lost "Dad" the moment he had his heart attack) that I never experienced the acuteness of missing him.

When he had his heart attack, my marriage was falling into a state of disrepair. I remember Mom and I talking of my marriage over Dad as we wondered about his prognosis and waited for him to wake up. I shake my head at the thought of that memory. I was 22 years old. I didn't know better. I do now.

When Dad died, it was days after I walked away from my marriage for the third and final time. Our separation was nasty and thoughts of walking forward from there superseded any other thoughts. We had lost the essence of Dad five years prior so part of this is understandable.

The only time I felt the reality of losing Dad was while he was still living and breathing. But not "Dad" any more. It was a surreal way to feel the loss of a parent. I didn't learn what I needed to know about love and loss.

I never felt like I fully honored Dad in the way he deserved to be honored. As the years unfolded, I felt, thought and honored Dad in my own way.

Then came the time when facing Mom's mortality became a reality. Mom was a strong, hearty and healthy soul until a time came when her health started to change. She rebounded each and every time but in the middle of those times, my heart ached with the knowledge that she wasn't going to live forever.

I mourned the loss of Mom before she died. I knew I would want to know I had done all I could do and was who I needed to be when Mom's time came. I may have become hyper aware of this eventual reality as I unconsciously created a life where Mom was my main focus.

My world became smaller so when Mom died and eventually all the loose ends of her life were tied up, I didn't have a life beyond Mom waiting for me. Yes, I had a few jobs, my children, good friends and a good life. But my passion for living was gone.

I spoke of Mom incessantly after she died. I kept her alive and well in my day to day thoughts. I missed her, I missed going to see her, I missed who she was to me. I lost a huge part of my life when she died and it was so much harder than I expected it to be.

It was hard because I really didn't care if I moved out of and beyond that phase. It was a sad day when I missed missing her.

Life moved on and carried me along with it. Bit by bit, I started looking outside my small little bubble and tentatively stepped back into life as I once knew it. I did a little gallivanting and took flight to see friends and do new things. I knew I turned a corner when I made plans, followed through on them, found myself in a different province visiting an old friend and I was astounded when I heard myself say "I actually looked forward to this trip!"

It was a first step of several. I finally found my wings somewhere up in the sky as I flew off to here, there and another place. I was finding my way back.

Except "back" was still a rather illusive destination. All I knew for sure is that home was where my heart was. I moved forward from there.

Life has gotten a little bigger than it once was. I'm still a little stingy with my time and energy but I'm involved in living my life. This is a good thing.

This house renovation was a gift in so many ways.

Financially, it was a gift from Mom and Dad. Dad, who worked so hard and invested so wisely during his 58 years here on earth, that Mom not only never had to worry about her financial state of affairs BUT she had an excess left over at the end of her days. Dad's work, along with Mom's ability to live on these funds wisely left us with a final gift from both of them.

I found it very hard to spend this money. I did nothing in haste. I pretended these funds didn't exist and didn't change my way of life. Until I went floor shopping with my son...

That was the beginning. As this renovation took on a life of its own, I felt Mom and Dad's presence within me every step of the way. Not one or the other. Both.

I wish I could sit across the table and share my morning coffee with them, but I can't. What I can do, is honor their memory, carry a piece of them within me, be grateful for every gift they gave me and live a good, honorable and full life.

Thanks, Mom and Dad. You have given us the basis for a very good story.

A Day of Rest

After five weeks of renovations, today was a day of rest.

I still have "this" far to go before my work here is done:

Despite my vow of restfulness, I puttered the day away and managed to accomplish a few small things. 

The dust that infiltrated the China cabinet in the kitchen has been dealt with.

We now have a new, white smoke detector to replace the old, yellowed one.

The wall phone has been replaced with a new, fully operational version of the same (our prior phone only worked on "speaker").

I have installed my income tax program so I am ready to tackle income taxes tomorrow.

Bit by bit, day by day, one step at a time, progress will be made.

One floor down; one to go. 

We are in the home stretch now (I keep saying this but that illusive finish line keeps changing).

Welcome! To Our Brand Renewed Home!

Welcome to our home!

The back entrance has been given a fresh new look. I am quite excited about every aspect of this mini makeover. Behold the miracle of a few coats of paint, new black hooks and a few black mats to complete the look (we already had the shoe shelf on hand).

I just don't get tired of our refreshed kitchen cupboards.

No matter which way I look at it, I just love our new kitchen.

One last angle of the kitchen before we move on.

The reverse view of the last picture is our living room ...

... a cozy visiting area which includes a most excellent spot for the cats to keep an eye on the neighborhood happenings. 

The living room awaits a few more accessories but I'm happy with its present look. Less is more, as they say. 

The front entrance awaits a new exterior door but from this angle? Perfection! 

Our hallway is adorned with family photos (some updating required). I bought a new, white smoke detector to replace the old, yellowed one. Note the white doorbell atop the photos on the left. A little bit of spray paint updated the look for minimal cost!

Our spare room comes with a little added cat hair...

... Jet found his way under the comforter and atop the sheets shortly after I made this bed.

The master suite looks pretty inviting ... almost makes me want to move right in!

  

The grand finale - what was formerly known as "Mom's room" is now called a den. Future plans include a bookshelf in the old closet. A bookshelf is really all I wanted when I set out on this mission. Now it is (almost) the only thing left on my wish list.

Ahhh ... home! There is truly no place like it!! 

The End is Near

The end of our Renovation Project is nigh. The living room is awaiting several final touches and I haven't had a chance to do any of the "fun" shopping to accessorize all that has been updated. But the hard work is behind us. Well, it would be behind us if I didn't have a perfectionist in my midst.

My son is not happy with the flooring in one of the rooms. One thing went awry as he completed the room and it had a domino effect which was not visible to the naked eye. But my son saw it. He is in demo mode at the moment.

If you are going to do something, do it right.

I can hear Mom in my son's words. I can feel Dad in his actions. I have no idea what I may have done to deserve it, but I have raised a human being who not only encapsulates parts of Mom and Dad I will never forget, but he professes his feelings towards others in his actions.

Our family is not prone to professing our love in words, hugs and all the ways "love" is portrayed in the world around us.

There is a quiet respect among us. We listen. We care. We support and encourage. These are traits I grew up with. They are an integral part of the relationship I have with my siblings. To see this trickle down and "infect" my own little family of three? It is a gift beyond words.

This project had the potential to drive a wedge into all that is good between us. Had any one of us felt taken advantage of, unappreciated and unsupported this would have fell to pieces long before the project's completion.

I was fearful I had laid too much on my son's shoulders. I vocalized my concerns, offered him exit or assistance strategies but he reassured me this was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

The yin and the yang of it all. What was lent has been repaid with interest. What was once a loan became an investment. An investment which accrued benefits which far exceeded my wildest dreams.

Tomorrow is The Big Reveal. My globetrotting son returns from Hawaii tomorrow afternoon and has requested a pick-up at the airport. We will have a Family Supper.

We will listen. We will care. We will support and encourage. My children are an investment which have accrued benefits which have far exceeded my wildest dreams. I am grateful.