The Shortest Day and the Brightest Star

Today marks the shortest day of, what many may consider, the longest year. To mark the occasion, Jupiter and Saturn will appear "as one" in the night sky. [I have read to look into the sky, toward the southwest about a half hour after sun set]

I find comfort in looking upwards on any given day but this day sounds momentous. It is said this event will not occur until May, 2080 and the last time it took place was about 400 years ago.

For this to happen so close to Christmas Day during a year of global upheaval seems almost ... biblical.

As we officially mark the beginning of winter on the darkest day of a particularly dark year, our days will now start to get longer. 

There is hope on the horizon. Winter is always followed by spring. A vaccination is on its way. It is always darkest before dawn.

There are untold amounts of people who have been tragically affected by the virus we call COVID-19 ... let there be light. Please. Let there be lightness that follows the heaviness of events past. 

It's a Wonderful Life

I woke up in the wee hours of the morning and decided to utilize my wakefulness to go to the bathroom and do a quick check to see if a rabbit (or three) was in our front yard. The moment my feet hit the floor, I thought "I LOVE my life!"

Pure, uncensored words from my heart and soul came to my mind. I love my life. I am not only grateful for the simple life I live but for the appreciation I have for it. 

I long for nothing. Not a thing. I am thankful I can fill our cupboards, fill my gas tank, live in a home that is not only safe, warm and comfortable, it feels like a warm embrace to live within these four walls of ours.

I started "loving my walls" decades and decades ago. It all started in 1979...

My one year old son and I moved into our new home. It was a subsidized townhouse condominium which  was everything I could have ever hoped for. A brand new affordable home and a brand new life. Our future felt bright. 

I was young, starry eyed and in love. "I love our walls!!", I vividly remember thinking.

We lived under that roof until 1987. There were many tumultuous years as my on again, off again marriage lived out stories within those very walls. If those walls could talk, I wouldn't want to hear what they had to say. 

It was a blessing in disguise when my husband refused to leave. I didn't even fight. I simply packed up our children and drove away. I didn't want to live within those walls any longer.

We moved to a new city, new province and a new townhouse which immediately replicated the safe, comfortable and warm embrace our prior home provided. I remember settling in to our new lives, feeling a sense of serenity I hadn't felt in a long time and thinking the words, "I love our walls!" We were home again.

Our final and current home was one that simply called out to me and begged us to move in. It was love at first sight and I couldn't hide the fact from the seller. The price was firm and I didn't care. I knew this house was destined to be our home.

These walls have a few stories to tell. I have fought to maintain the serenity I found within our home. There have been numerous occasions when I found myself once again thinking, "I love our walls!!"

Loving our "walls" had little to nothing to do with the condition of our home. These walls represent everything that is important to me. Safety, security, comfort, warmth and serenity. Everything I aspire to feel deep within myself. Loving our walls has everything to do with loving my life.

I hear the echo of discontent in so many I talk with. For any and every number of reasons, there is unease, worry, heartache, loss, fear and a general feeling of weariness. 

I wish I could bottle up my inner sense of contentment and gift it to those who are lacking what I have in abundance. If I could wave my magic wand and wish you anything, my wish for you would be to wake up in the wee hours of the morning and have the words, "I love my life!" spring directly from your subconsciousness to the fore front of your mind.

It's a wonderful life I am living. Please come on over and I'll share it with you.

Time Well Spent

A subconscious thought planted in my mind Monday morning may or may not have made the difference to the way I have approached this week.

Perhaps I have been more productive because the groundwork had already been laid. The tedious, hardest part of a job was done so when I had to "wrap it up", it didn't take long. I had time left over to tackle another quarterly job. Again, because I was already caught up on the prelimary work, it was not hard to complete the task set out before me.

I tend to believe I spend a lot of time "spinning my wheels" within this home office of mine. I may be wrong about that.

Time spent organizing and finding a place for everything and everything in its place means I don't lose time searching for things. I do NOT have a filing box. I simply put things where they belong so I don't have to waste time looking. It takes less than a minute to file a paper in its proper spot. Those are seconds well spent.

Jobs in progress have been laid out on my working table. Even though it looks like a bit of a disaster zone, there is a place for everything and everything in its place. When I needed to find the answers to questions, it took but a moment to find what I was looking for. I may (or may not) have dazzled my boss by putting my finger on the answers so effectively.  

I procrastinated all weekend. I admonished myself for not working on "the big job" that has been haunting me for longer than I care to admit. I lost a night of sleep over this job but I refused to get up at 2 a.m. and work on it because there is a time and a place for working. The middle of the night is NOT that time. 

The following day was Friday. Due to the fact that work had me tossing and turning all night, I did NOT have any desire to work the next morning. I went into the office. I started. I was easily distracted. When unexpected guests arrived, I welcomed them and the excuse to put off working. "I'll work tomorrow instead," I told myself. I lied.

I didn't work Saturday. I opened the office door Sunday in an attempt to entice myself into the work zone on my day off. But I didn't enter. What I DID do, was subconsciously map out my plan of attack. I knew what had to be done and how I was going to tackle it. Monday morning, I was armed and dangerous.

I've been ticking off boxes of things-that-need-to-get-done quickly and efficiently this week. I even tackled an off-site job yesterday and it went so much better than anticipated. 

My motivation to "clear the deck" of all the hard things this week has served me well. I still have several 95% complete jobs sitting out in my work space, with only two days left to tie up the loose ends.

There is no end to the work which is piling up behind this current state of completed-ness. It was starting to pile up before this week of productivity. My clear work space will be filled with more work and challenges ahead. 

I have spent a lot of time belittling myself for not working as efficiently as I expect of myself. I have not given myself credit for time spent doing the work that doesn't show in preparation for the big jobs that overwhelm me. 

As I write this, looking back in my rear view mirror, I am seeing a parallel between my bookkeeping work and a home renovation. Renovations begin with an idea. A spark. A plan. This could take years to formulate, depending upon the scale of work. Once the plan is set in action, there is SO much work to be done before any new work begins. Demolition, removing "what is", preparing the work area for "what is to come", the dirty unappreciated work that is beneath the surface. Preparation feels like 90% of the job. Then comes the renovation itself. Every step along the way is laid out in preparation for the steps to follow (and there are many). Renovations feel endless. 

A successful renovation begins with preparation. Time invested in planning, mapping out a strategic course of action and getting the hard, dirty work behind you is time well spent. By the time you reach the 95% mark, there is still work to be done. 

I'm at the 95% mark now. I'm in the home stretch. I feel like a marathon runner who is getting that last surge of energy to make it to the finish line. I'm almost there ...

The hardest part was beginning. Starting is often the hardest part. But don't forget to give yourself credit for time spent in the preparation phases. The pauses in life are sometimes exactly what we need. 

Armed and Ready to Go

I am fueled with a most excellent weekend in the books and motivated by upcoming days off to make the most of the next five working days. This feels like a recipe for success.

I didn't do anything important this past weekend. The pile of paperwork I have been working on was ignored. Entirely and completely. I did vacuum the cat hair off the lids of said containers. But that is all.

My sisters showed up for a socially distant deck-visit yesterday. I don't even know what we talked about. A little bit of everything. The gift was in their presence. They were here. We were all together. And it was good.

I did not accomplish ONE extra task this past weekend. I did not even succeed at cooking ONE meal. And it's okay. The work will be done. Sooner or later.

But in the meantime, I have a busy agenda. The plan is to make the most of the next five days ahead so I can make the most of the free time which is to follow.

Motivation is something I am working on. I am disappointed in myself. I am setting a very poor example for my youngest son still living at home.

As I marvelled at my middle son's ambition, motivation and accomplishments I sighed, "I used to be more like you ..." His response was, "Where do you think I got this from? I remember ..."

I did this once. I can do it again. One hard thing at a time. Just get 'er done! 

"Six impossible things before lunch" - this is a quote that goes back to the beginning of my blog. Getting the "hard things" done and out of the way before lunch is key.

Everything I need to know, I have already written. From this point onward, perhaps I should stop writing and just start reading.

Here is a little piece of "wisdom" I wrote back when I was younger, wiser and much more motivated: 

TUESDAY, JANUARY 22, 2008

Six Impossible Things Before Lunch

I once went to a very inspirational hair dresser who was full of thought provoking ideas. She told me of a client that she had, who had the motto to do ''Six Impossible Things Before Lunch". Depending on your day, some of those things may be as small as getting out of bed, having a shower and having breakfast. But the important thing was to do ''Six Impossible Things" in the morning.

Well, as I looked at the phone calls I had to make today as well as a "sick" computer (I'm still ending up causing havoc in people's inboxes with my emails). I felt overwhelmed at the tasks before me.

I made one phone call. I told myself that it is so much easier to call in the morning. By the end of the day I'm running out of gusto and the thought of picking up the phone and dialing it feels overwhelming a lot of the time.

One phone call led to the next and the next and the next. I have set up a time and place to meet up with a few more of my aunts (and invited a cousin along for the ride as well) for my next fact-finding mission for this history book.

I felt like I could conquer the world after I did "Four Impossible Things" (four phone calls). Wow!! Getting the tough part of your day over with first thing in the morning is definitely a way to jump start your day!!! (I should really start exercising again. One more impossible thing).

After that, I was actually eager to tackle the computer problems. I contacted my the tech-support department of the antivirus program I have and ran scans in the 'safe mode' as they suggested. We'll see if that works.

I wonder what six impossible things I shall tackle tomorrow???

Sunday Morning Rabbit Watching

Bliss

I replenished our rabbit food supply and waited.

It didn't take long. I put the rabbit food out Friday night. As soon as I woke up Saturday morning, I checked. I was not disappointed. One lone rabbit was nibbling at the fresh supply of rabbit food under our fir tree.

No such luck Sunday morning but we have time.

My two favorite rabbit-spotters are on patrol. We shall watch and wait. I'm certain we will not be disappointed.

Family Ties

It is really quite amazing what a little dose of companionship can provide. Yesterday was seasoned with a little dose of family on a day I was feeling a little off.  

There was really nothing terribly wrong but when my son drove up and showed up on the doorstep I think my heart did a little happy dance.

I had an excessive amount of word-build-up accumulating within and putting a voice to what I was feeling was the release valve I needed. I hope the feeling was reciprocated ...

Then I heard from a few of my cousins.

Family. A family I would have never got to know if I had not lived life exactly the way I lived it. 

Accumulating family memories connected me with my extended family in a way I could have never imagined. I have come to know some of my uncles and aunts in an up close and personal way. Every connection is a gift. Re-unioning and reconnecting has left the door ajar for little impromptu check-ins. 

So many little things have led me to exactly where I am. I fully believe with all my heart I am exactly where I am meant to be. Right in the heart of family, my roots and "home" in every sense of the word.

The Day the Well Ran Dry

The well didn't exactly run dry but it felt as if we ran out of almost anything I touched.

The end of a toilet paper roll, the last of the frozen orange juice, the last cup of coffee, the end of cat litter deodorizer ... and the day had just begun.

Of all the things I emptied, I had a back up supply to replenish the stock. 

I had been watching my pennies very carefully and knew "today" was the day I could resume spending. I had reached the limit I could repay in full on my credit card so I just needed to get to today until I could start spending again.

The last time I ran our grocery supply so close to the wire was COVID-Friday. 

It was the day COVID became real in our world and I had let our supplies run low because I was playing the game of "no spending allowed until the credit card cut off date". By the time I made it to the store that fateful day in 2020, the stock on the shelves was depleted to a scary all time low.

As I lived that moment of déjà vu, I felt a small amount of angst but forged on with the morning.

I ordered our groceries online and picked them up without the world as I know it ending. Other than the cat litter deodorizer being out of stock for the second time in a row, all of our reserves were brought back to their usual levels and life will go on.

"This" is the very reason I like to have one extra of everything we use regularly on hand at all times. One never knows when the well may run dry and refilling those reserves may not be as easy as it always has been.

I guess this is why they suggest we should have between three to six months of worth of basic living expenses available in case of emergency. If I have so much trouble making it to my next credit card statement cut off date, you can imagine how my emergency savings fund must look.

One never knows when life-as-we-know-it could change on a dime. We have very little control over the vast majority of all that could happen. Perhaps this is why I have always had a budget. I need to feel in control of something within this out of control world. 

Morning, Noon and Night

In the beginning of re-imagining our home's main floor plan, 

I had a distinct vision of a den, an office and a bedroom 

instead of the original three bedroom layout. 

Many assumed I meant a den/office sharing one space. 

At NO time did I entertain that thought. 

The den and the office serve two completely different purposes. 

My entire demeanor changes when I exit my home office as compared to when I enter the den.

Welcome to my day:

This is my morning view. 

A cup of coffee at my computer as I gaze at my absolutely awesome library. 

My morning perspective is one of ease and curiosity 

to trigger my imagination and intention for the day. 

This is my work-day.

My office is completely self contained and serves its purpose well.

I love that I can close my door on this room and know that only steps away, 

I can refuel and refresh myself to make the most of my day of work at home.

This is my evening. 

The moment all my daily work commitments have been met, 

I climb into my pajamas and turn on the TV to tune out my thoughts.

My days wind down in the same room they start out in.

Mom's white love seat serves two very important purposes:

1. It is very uncomfortable so I rarely, if ever fall asleep while watching TV

2. It is white so the black cat hair shows up very well. As an added bonus, the fabric does not trap the hair so it is quick and easy to vacuum so the cat hair is tended to very regularly.

The downfall of Mom's love seat is that it does instill the desire to settle in with a good book. 

Thank goodness our living room is more than welcoming

(it is also one of the best spots in our home to visit in).

Our third upstairs bedroom is that, and that alone. 
It is a room of rest, relaxation and sleep.

Of all the rooms in our home, this is quite likely the one I spend most of my time in.

The kitchen gets the least of my time. 

It is a convenient place to make coffee, smoothies and heat up frozen entrées.

It's easier to keep clean that way.

Welcome to my day.

Did I mention just how much I adore our home ...

AND my ability to work out of this slice of heaven?

Dream of the world you want to live in.

Draw it.

Save pictures of how you want to imagine it.

Let your thoughts sink in and settle.

Wait.

Wait some more.

When the time comes, you will know.

Our home is everything I imagined it would be.

And more.

I have a few more spaces to imagine,

so my dreams have not died.

I'm enjoying where I am and will figure out what's next as time goes on.

Some dreams are free.

Others aren't.

For those that come at a cost, 

time spent waiting, wondering, hoping and imagining

is time well spent.

I love living in our home.

Morning, noon and night.

Throwback Thursday

My only thoughts this morning are "there goes another month".

I wistfully wondered where we will be standing a year from now. Who would have predicted our current state of being?

I have since been scrolling through my blog posts from Septembers in the past. This is the one that spoke to me the loudest. 

A little throwback Thursday post from one year ago with no glimmer of what the next year had in store:

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2019

Look How Far You've Come

While scrolling through the internet this morning, I found a few words that spoke to me:

Credit to: Goalcast

I thought I would reflect on the year and went to check my blog history. September, 2018? Nothing. Not a post.

I then went to look up my 2018 calendar to fill in the blanks. I couldn't find it. I searched through my income tax papers where I always keep my calendar. Not a thing.

Okay, memory. Kick in. What were you doing a year ago?

I remembered September started by a trip with my brother to see my uncle in Guelph. I remember going to my sister's the weekend after that.

I remember feeling a lightness of heart starting to take hold but without the crutches of my blog or a calendar to look back on my memories faded to black. It was a scary feeling.

I scrambled to scroll back on some old texts to find a frame of reference. I found a text where I was headed out to Lloydminster with my son. After reading a few of the messages before and after this trip I was grounded with the knowledge that I remembered what was written in between the texts.

Once my feet were back on the ground and I was thinking clearly, I found my old calendar. Right where I expected it to be.

I flipped back to September, 2018. One year plus six days ago, I received the Final Clearance Letter for Mom's estate. A sibling trip was planned and we officially wound up everything pertaining to Mom's estate shortly thereafter.

We are planning another sibling trip this upcoming weekend. I will be headed off to see my uncle soon. Other events are mirroring those of one year ago.

Two years ago, the loss of Mom was fresh and I felt broken. A year ago, I was picking up the pieces and healing. This year seems to be a renewed version of the year past.

Life has moved on. There is a lot of the same old, same old. Just the way I like it. It feels like the good old days seasoned with the present.

How far have I come? I have a home renovation to celebrate. I am fortunate enough to still be employed. We are all in good spirits and our family relationships are healthy. I'm standing in a very similar place to where I was a year ago but the landscape has changed a little. I am grateful. So very grateful to be back where I have been but feeling better about it.

How about you? What has the last year brought into your life? I hope there have been rainbows after the rain, strength when you need it, courage to keep putting one foot in front of another and the company of those you enjoy to walk through your days.

Back to the present again ...

P.S. I am missing our annual sibling trip terribly. COVID-19, you can leave any time. We have learned quite enough from your presence

The Wonderful World of Libraries

It is ironic, since I have Mom's library of books showcased and begging to be read, that this year I have rediscovered the wonderful world within our local library.

I have a very hard time holding onto a thought long enough to read and stay awake at the same time. So I have indulged myself in reading whatever has grabbed my attention in order to try to re-instill the habit of reading. 

Even amid the COVID world, I was able to place holds on books that caught my attention, reserve a time to pick them up, then check them out without breaking the 6 foot social distancing barrier. 

The library offers a vast variety of books, old and new. The ability to read for pleasure, to pursue an interest or to educate yourself on whatever piques your interest is available to all. Absolutely free of charge.

Whenever I check out a book, my library receipt tells me how much I've saved by utilizing the library. I find positive reinforcement at every turn.

I have been watching my pennies very carefully this month. Yet I was still able to treat myself to reading Alex Trebek's new book "The Answer Is", thanks to my friendly neighborhood library.

The library is only one of many offerings that is out there available at no cost. 

• Sitting on your doorstep and breathing in fresh air, sunshine and nature
• A walk to anywhere
• Catching up with a friend
• Writing (I would add letter writing but there is the small cost of a stamp which is still the best value for your dollar in my opinion)
• Sitting still with yourself and allowing yourself to dream
• Going through photo albums, cards, letters or memorabilia you have collected
• Housecleaning (hey, it's free and actually quite satisfying once you get past the hard part of starting)

Look around you. See what you can come up with. Some of the best things in life are free.

Sunday Hangover

I just lived a Sunday of ease. Relaxation, low energy, mindless activities ruled the day. I watched TV, played Word Wipe on the computer and read a book. 

The trouble with reading, is I kept falling asleep. This, I might add, was after going to bed at 7:45 p.m. on Saturday and getting out of bed around 7:30 Sunday morning. Yet every time I sat still with my book, I started nodding off. So I ate to stay awake.

I want to say I ate my weight in food yesterday but that would be an exaggeration. I ate a toasted tuna sandwich; a bag of popcorn; a few mini chocolate bars; I'm certain I nibbled on something else; then made a four course meal for supper (with one more mini Kit Kat bar for dessert). 

I still feel full this morning. Eating without moving will do that to a person.

I considered going outside. But I didn't.

I tried to entertain the idea of accepting an invitation. But I couldn't.

I wanted to push myself to do "one hard thing". So I cooked supper. 

I read a book. And it was good enough. In fact it was more than good. I closed the book and my heart felt full.

Another week is on the horizon. Last week felt hard. I am heading into the new week well rested, well nourished and ready to take the next forward step.

Maybe my "Sunday hangover" is a good thing.

Happy Monday to you. I hope your weekend provided you with what you most needed to take your next step forward.

The Answer Is

I read Alex Trebek's book "The Answer Is". It's an easy read. It touches on so many aspects of his life-so-far. I put it down and told my son, "He's a real stand up guy." 

I related his struggles with those Mom never vocalized and wondered what Mom would have said of his book, his story and where he is today. Somehow, I sense my sentiments are an echo of Mom's voice. She appreciated people of good character. 

I love how Alex wrote of his upbringing, his parents, the in-between years of graduation and the steps along the way to lead him to where he is today. I admire his honesty, his humbleness, his humanitarian spirit and his humanness. I appreciate the stories of contestants he brought into focus and how he models the appreciation he has for the work he does. 

If you are interested and have the opportunity, I highly recommend reading his book. He is donating all profits from his book to charity.

"The Answer Is" the answer to the question "What book I would most like to listen to the audio version?" Not only is Alex Trebek a real stand up guy, he has a voice I could listen to all day.

Social Media Timeout

One week ago, I watched The Social Dilemma on Netflix. I hit my saturation point at the 76 minute mark of the 94 minute documentary. It was too much information and hit far too close to home.

I recognized myself and the mindless hours I fritter away on Facebook. Checking in on the activity of "friends", stopping to watch videos of cats, wildlife, heroic rescues, home organizing tips and the list not only goes on and on, it seems to be growing by the day. 

What I have been watching seems to show up more frequently. What I didn't realize is that different news appears on different people's feeds, depending upon what they "like", comment on, click on or even stop and watch without clicking on anything.

The adage that is quoted at the beginning of The Social Dilemma is that if you are not paying for the product, you ARE the product. If we are getting something for free, beware. What we watch is adapted to what we spend our time viewing. "News" we read is slanted towards our bias. It wasn't a surprise that the ads I see are based on what I am searching on my computer but a lot of the other information was bothersome.

There is an addictive quality to social media. Again, I recognized my own curiosity on who may like or comment on something I may post or comment on. I knew I was scrolling social websites out of habit but I really didn't care. Until I watched this documentary.

I have checked Facebook once this past week. I felt empty and used as I scrolled through the page reading the updates since I last checked in. I have had no desire to check in again. Yet.

I was aware of the drawbacks of social media but I countered the fact with the number of old friends I was able to re-connect with, thanks to Facebook. There was definitely a dopamine surge each and every time I connected with and started corresponding with a friend from long ago. The connections I made were definitely a huge draw but the hours I have spent mindlessly scrolling are completely lost to me. 

I often wonder how I used to accomplish more, feel more creative and inspired. Inviting the internet into our home has gradually eaten up more and more and more of my time. Social media has just been the icing on the cake.

Pre-COVID, I instilled "Technology Free Sundays" into my life. It felt good not to be beholden to an internet or cell phone connection. I was starting to feel liberated. Then came COVID. I lost my desire to disconnect because I craved connection at any cost.

Here it is, Sunday morning. Here I am, spending more time on the computer. 

There went another morning down the rabbit hole of internet searches ... I am aware but I do not seem to be learning. There should be a 10 step program for this. 

"Hello. My name is Colleen. And I am an internet-aholic."

On Being Senior

They don't even ask any more ...

"Only her hairdresser knows for sure"

I should not be surprised. 

I Keep Waiting For This Announcement:

Ever since the reality of a global pandemic infiltrated my safe little world, there has been a surreal sensation of "this feels like an experiment of human nature".

• How do humans react when faced with scarcity?
• How do humans respond to isolation? fear? the unknown?
• How does a global condition unite and divide humankind?
• How does an unknown timeline affect this condition?
• How will world leaders react?
• With global uncertainty at the core of all news, how will people manage the layers of other world events on top of this uncertainty?
• When all of the above becomes "the norm", how will humans manage on a day-to-day basis?
• Will the human condition change after the crisis is over?

As I tentatively move from one day to the next and seven months later, we are still navigating the unknown on a day to day basis, I keep waiting for this announcement:

Emergency Broadcast System Test (1983)

"This concludes the test of the Emergency Broadcast System" 

Wouldn't it be nice?

On Feeling Deeply

This week has been a week of "feeling deeply".

I woke up one morning feeling personally responsible for pretty much anything and everything. I wanted to walk around with a sign around my neck saying "I'm sorry". It was just that kind of day. 

I have those days now and again. I attribute it to the moon. Phases. Cycles. Patterns. Days of feeling deeply are part of my make up. I recognize this and do my best to wade through the middle of those particular times and utilize the feelings to take action when circumstances allow.

As a rule, I can categorize and sort my feelings, put them in a room, shut the door and not feel the feelings so deeply until I open the door again. This week feels like the doors are all open and I'm walking through the hallway, feeling a low grade kind of angst. 

This too shall pass. I know this is true. I've walked this walk enough times to recognize the pattern.

These are trying times for most of us. Try to recognize what is familiar within your own personal cycles of life. If you can, try to recall what worked in pulling you up and out of where you have been to get to a better place. 

If all else fails, take heed of the lessons I learned in my Grade 3 Health class:

I especially like #4 - "Play out of doors every day". I know that has been lacking in my life. 

What one thing can you do to pull yourself out of your deep thoughts and back into the present?

Fall

As of 7:30 this morning, fall has made its official arrival. 

Our hours of daylight are fewer than our night time hours. 

The up side of this, is the colors of the season. 

If ever I was in charge of designing a city, 

I would choose the trees based on the colors they turn in the fall. 

This tree in our neighborhood would definitely make the cut:

The past two falls, I have made trips "out east" and marveled at the beauty of their fall landscape. 

Their weather isn't as harsh as ours so their trees hold onto their fall colors longer. 

The view takes your breath away.

I am longing to head out east this fall. 

So many reasons. 

The colors of the season being one of them.

There is beauty within all of our seasons. 

Don't let the shortening days supersede the colors while they last.

Happy fall to you! 

Paper

I hit a wall this weekend. My cull, sort and destroy project was temporarily side tracked as I took time off to enjoy a Grey's Anatomy Marathon Weekend.

I was halfway into my second day of losing myself to television drama when I told myself I had to do at least ONE thing. So I did.

What started out as digging out the second cool file folder storage box resulted in vacuuming the basement and deciding what documents I could shred.

The end result was this:

Two empty (plus a third one full of documents to shred) file folder sized boxes

and numerous emptied document organizers/folders ...

... plus one gigantic box of shredding (and more where that came from).

I have a paper shredder which is perfect for my personal needs but if I overwork it, I'll be in need of a new shredder. So I may be shredding documents for the duration of the year. 

I have not yet hit the bottom of this bottomless pit of paper collection. I have dabbled in photographs, memorabilia, cards and all kinds of paraphernalia. And I am no where near complete. 

This is the state of our living room at the moment:

One would think this would get easier as I go along. But I keep finding excuses to hold on to some of what I have.

I wondered how much I earned at my very first job. I knew Dad would have deducted it off what he could claim for me as a dependent that year, so I went to Dad's tax papers and found my answer. I earned $1875 my first year of employment back in 1977. I know I could find many more answers I may wonder over the years in Mom's calendars.

Do I really need to know I can get my hands on this information? There is comfort in knowing I have a piece of history only Mom and Dad would have the answers for. This feels like a warm hug on a cold day.

I suspect as I work my way through the excess, I may become less attached to the paper. I spent one entire weekend shredding Mom's papers after she died. I did it once. I can do it again.

I cannot believe it has come to this. This mountain of paper, photographs and memories is overwhelming. 

One step at a time, one weekend at a time for as long as it takes to rid our living room of Rubbermaid storage containers. Where there is a will, there is a way. The "way" may include hiring a company to do my personal shredding. 

I'm a collector of family history, stories and memories. This is so very hard because there is a small piece of history hidden within all that has accumulated. I must believe I've mined for the gold and be willing to let the rest go.

It is no wonder I have put this off for so long. 

Sunday Morning

Watching "Furrever Friends" on TV with my very own furrever friend at my side.

Sunday morning bliss.

 

Use What Life Hands You

When life hands you a box, hop in and try it out for size.

It may be a little small, it may not feel quite right but don't be afraid to check it out.

Some of the best things in life are sitting right in front of us. 

Use whatever life hands you.

You never know - what you are looking for may be closer than you think.

Pushing Boundaries

Ray, our senior cat in residence has an innate respect for Jet, his co-cat of the house.

Jet has some spots he seems to have claimed as his own and Ray respects those boundaries and doesn't cross the line.

Ray has been acting a little more "forward" than usual lately. He has been very affectionate in a very in-your-face kind of way. As a rule, he is pretty laid back and follows the laws of the land.

Then he decided to hop up on Jet's spot and try it out:

He didn't appear completely at ease in his cat-partner-in-crime's spot, but he tried.

What have you been missing out in life because you are afraid to try? 

Start small. Sit in someone else's chair. Look at things from a slightly different point of view. 

You may opt not to claim the spot as your own but you now have a slightly different perspective. Simply by putting yourself in another's shoes (or chair), 

you may see something you hadn't noticed before.

Or if you are like me, you may simply find yourself more grateful for your own special spots in the sun.

Push the boundaries just a little bit and check out the fit. You may be surprised.

 

Small Wonders

I have not had my fill of rabbit-spotting the past several months. I had almost given up hope and wondered if they had moved out of our neighborhood or succumbed to a tragic demise due to some carnivorous animal's appetite. 

I have since had a few brief spottings and my faith has been restored. The rabbits are still in the area but without a snow covered yard, the evidence of their presence is very discreet.

I haven't seen too many rabbits at my aunt's lately either. Her location is a rabbit's haven (lots of bush, grass, flowers, along with quiet, slow moving people). 

I was craving a little bit of rabbit wonder in my day when I had two spottings. One brief sighting of a rabbit hopping down our street first thing in the morning, followed by a pair of rabbits at my aunt's who settled in for an extended after supper snack of grass and basking in the moment: 

Though they were well aware of my presence, they didn't move from their spots when I headed to my car and they gave me the gift of this photo.

I opened the blinds this morning to spot two rabbits hopping down our street. 

A very good way to start the day.

Rabbit sightings fill the void I sometimes feel within. 

Nature does that for me every time. 

I think it is time to add "rabbit food" to my list. 

I could use a little daily dose of wonder.

What brings wonder to your days? 

How can you attract that which brings you joy?

There is no one size fits all prescription but keep looking for the small wonders of the world. 

They may be closer than you think.

Throwback Thursday

Going through old cards and memories, I found these treasures:

Anyone who knew me, knew how much I loved ballroom dancing.

I miss the good ol' days when every thought in my head vanished 

the moment I walked onto the dance floor.

I was fortunate enough to find a passion where I could lose myself. 

Have you ever had such a passion? 

If so, do you still hold onto it? 

Question of the hour: 

Where does that passion go? 

How can we rekindle it? 

Personally, I may dig a little deeper into my photographs, memories and videos to rekindle the joy.

Oh, to feel joyful, hopeful and passionate again.

Digging Deep

The timing was impeccable. As I sorted through memory boxes and that which I have collected over the years, it was already on my radar. I was missing a box. 

Who would have guessed my son would ask me questions that would lead me to search for that specific box one day later? "I need to interview you for my class - I will need to know details about my birth, learning to walk ..." and my hearing faded to black as I realized how few details I can recall. Everything I need to know is in this house somewhere.

Me: [walking to my bedroom closet and looking at a shelf where the missing box used to reside, as if this would give me a clue as to its current location] This is where it used to be...

Son: We don't need to do this tonight

Me: I know I wouldn't throw it away. I know it. 

Son: Let's not worry about this now

Me: What did I do with it?!?

I wandered downstairs and dug through collection of tax papers - mine, Mom's & Dad's. Each box was clearly defined as "tax stuff". I pulled out one box after another and was just starting to lose hope when I spotted something that didn't look like income tax [I love those see through storage containers]. There it was!

As excited as I was to find the missing box, I was even more elated to discover "this" was the box I would like to use, to organize my cards. Ooooo!! I can't wait to get back, dig into this, dig deeper into this whole decluttering project and find efficient "forever homes" for that which I have kept.

My heart sank at the knowledge that I must deal with three lifetimes worth of paperwork as well. But on the flip side, shredding these documents will give me a whole heap of storage containers which will serve a much better purpose than holding onto that which was obsolete decades ago.

I unearthed the "Baby's First Year" calendar I knew would hold the answers my son will be asking when we make the time for this interview. The questions go deeper than my memory so I need a little help. This also reaffirms my defense that there IS a reason we hold onto this stuff.

What else will I discover as I continue to mine for gold within this house of ours? Time will tell.

P.S. I found an unexpected bonus while digging through the boxes - four long lost cat toys!! There was something in this for everyone.

Echos of Conversations from Yesteryear

Whenever Mom came for a visit, we always lingered over our morning toast and coffee. It was a ritual that was as predictable as the sun coming up in the morning.

On more than one occasion, after I had left the kitchen and returned again, Mom asked, "Guess what I did while you were gone?" She had an expression that dared me to guess correctly so I played the game.

I wasn't able to come up with the answer so she would give me a clue: "You can't see it". As I said, I'm pretty certain we had this conversation before. Even at that, I didn't come up with the correct answer.

She would straighten up in her chair (even more, because her back was always straight and her posture was excellent) and wore the expression of a cat who just ate a canary and reply, "I emptied the crumb tray in your toaster". That tray was always full because Mom may have been the only person who emptied it.

Now? Whenever I empty the toaster's crumb tray, I hear Mom's voice: "Guess what I did while you were gone?"

And in a moment, Mom is right beside me, smiling over my shoulder again.

I love those little memories. They find me when I least expect them.

Hidden Treasures

This is a card I received almost 23 years ago, 

long before my current love-of-spotting-rabbits phase of life:

My Secret Friend at work surprised me with this one day before a weekend, 

my love of "special treats" has not changed.

Somebunny cares!

 

Taming the Beast

After a weekend of sorting, culling and organizing papers, cards, family history and memorabilia, this is the not-as-messy-middle ground I must live with until next time:

I found things I didn't even know I had: 

• souveniers from P.E.I., that could have only come from Mom after her trip out there in 1984
• a scribbler Mom had saved from my "playing school" days, where I made up a day plan, wrote out assignments for my imaginary class, did the assignment myself, then marked it myself, back in the teacher role
• Christmas, birthday and "just because" cards from Mom with little more than her name signed, but the knowledge she had spent time to find just the right card - I have sorted them according to category and plan to pull out a random card to fit the occasion and feel Mom's presence when I miss her
• a forwarded email from my brother, to my sister (who had asked him for their punch recipe):

1. Curl fingers toward fist
2. Be careful not to tuck thumb inside fist. Broken thumbs may occur
3. Now raise fist up
4. Look directly at target
5. For increased power and velocity, twist hip and shoulder toward target as you deliver punch
6. For added joy and effectiveness, follow this punch with another from the opposite hand
7. This is known as the old one-two

Hope this has been helpful.

And I found more. So much more. Buried treasure was found within the massive heap of years worth of collecting that which felt special at the time. 

A new week is upon me and I had to sort myself out of the messy middle and tame the beast until next time. Funny thing is, I am actually looking forward to the next time.

Taking one hard step in a direction you want to go isn't easy, but it is almost always worth the effort. 

Whoops! I Did it Again!

Another day, another Rubbermaid container to sort through.

Four down, I have no idea how many more to go.

There IS a reason I procrastinated three years. This task is not for the weak of heart.

Snazzy Sunday (aka: it is time to do laundry)

I am still savoring the chilly fall mornings and happily reach for my socks each morning.

Is it just me, or does everyone like their socks to match their pj's?

It hurt me to look at this combination this morning but all my other socks are dirty.

I wore this outfit ALL day. I love quiet Sundays at home without a dress code.

The Messy Middle

Sorting, organizing, culling and reminiscing.

This is "Saturday" in a nutshell.

 

Fall - A Time to Shed

 The isolation I long for is the very same isolation that many are battling.

"Be careful what you wish for"

It is my goal to create a home that embraces me with warmth, comfort and joy

so when the day comes that I am the one who is battling the discomfort of being alone, 

I will not feel isolated.

As our daylight hours are shrinking and our mornings and evenings are cooler,

I am comforted in the warmth of fuzzy socks, long pants, favorite sweaters

and the pending season of cocooning myself within our home is a welcome thought.

The idea of winter does not scare me.

But all I have to do is look around

and I feel a darkness among those who are feeling the effects of a spring and summer of isolation.

I fear what winter will bring into their world.

I don't know how to make it better for others.

I feel helpless as I endeavor to alleviate the hopelessness that is growing by the day.

I think of the world I am trying to create within my own home and wonder if that is the key.

To surround yourself with that which brings you joy, 

instead of feeling weighed down by meaningless belongings could provide relief.

A fall project of reorganizing that which we already have,

dusting off evidence of happy memories hidden away in storage

and bringing "joy" into focus instead of clutter. 

Perhaps the changing seasons are a clue as to what we need the most.

The leaves shed their leaves in the fall in order to endure the winter season.

Fall ... 

a time to shed the excess to create space for joy to get us through the winter ahead.

Why?

 As I take the first tentative steps into dealing with photographs, memories, keepsakes and other paraphernalia around our home there is one word that comes to mind. "Why?"

What do I have and hold onto that has any value to anyone but me? Is this really worth the effort? Or should I simply dump and shred the vast majority of that-which-has-accumulated throughout the years?

Then I heard Mom's voice quietly penetrate my subconscious thoughts. I believe I was wishing for a quieter, less committed life. "Be careful what you wish for" whispered through my mind. I think it was Mom's voice.

Mom lived without Dad for thirty seven and a half years. My brother was in grade 12 at the time Dad was hospitalized and continued to live with Mom another five to six years (I could tell you exactly, because I kept the first letter he wrote me from his new apartment and I know exactly where to find it). There were various "borders" who came and went throughout the years, but for the most part, Mom was on her own the vast majority of the time.

I think Mom and I are wired similarly. We navigate life solo well. Home is important to us. Family grounds us. We do best when we have a game plan for the day ahead.

I remember one of my very first thoughts when my first son was born. I was 17 years old at the time. Please forgive me. I think my thoughts were a little bit like this: "A boy ..." "Eighteen more years 'til he grows up" (not necessarily in that order).

Then, I kept on having a baby about every ten years. Now, at age (almost) 60, I am still parenting my youngest son who is attending University. I may be 65 before I'm on my own within this house of mine. I have never lived a day of my adult life without a dependent under my roof. But the day will come. Then what will I have?

I imagine myself wandering through my home, appreciating that which I held onto. My brother's first letter of independence. Photographs and albums that encompass Mom and Dad's family history, up until I stopped developing pictures that are stored on my computer or a USB drive. I can picture myself sitting still with Mom's library and going through her books one by one by one. I hope my curiosity for life starts to mirror hers as the demands of life start to diminish.

I see myself combing through the memories I have collected along the way and knowing when to let go and what is worthy of holding onto. I have three sons who are NOT collectors of memorabilia. What I have, will need to find homes elsewhere. It may become a project to re-home some of what matters to me before the day my children have to decide.

I foresee a long life ahead. I will need to re-invent myself and become someone who has something to talk about when in the company of others. I need to keep the air around me fresh, new and alive.

Who will I become when I reach the stage when I am living on my own? I know one cannot hold onto the past but I also know the value of feeling the roots of belonging. 

The need to cull and purge is ongoing. Some of what held value to me at the onset of my day, I was ready to purge by the day's end. Why would I hold onto this? What value does it hold? To me? To anyone else?

As I empty one set of shelves, to fill it with the photographs and memories I have deemed worthy of keeping, I must continue to ask myself "Why? Why is this important? Is it worthy of the space it takes to hold this? If I was not here, would this be of value to anyone else?"

I should "Marie Kondo" this scenario, pull out all my memorabilia and stack it all in one room to recognize the vastness of the task at hand. 

Two Rubbermaid containers at a time is enough for today. I need another extended long weekend before I take on the world. When I accept the challenge, I must ask myself two questions: 

• Does this bring me joy?
• Why am I holding onto this?

Holding onto the memories of the past without letting it weigh you down is a continual process. While there is a time to hold onto and cherish the past, part of the process is knowing when to let it go. 

I have held onto things that held value to Mom. Because they were important to her, it wasn't easy to discard her personal mementos. The question is now: "Does this matter to me?" 

The process continues...

Before and After

I spent the entirety of yesterday sorting through pictures, removing photos from frames and filing them where they belong and organizing albums. I kid you not, when I say "all day".

Here is the "before":

This is the "after":

Obviously, I have not yet completed the task. I have one more Rubbermaid container the exact same size downstairs which holds all our existing photo albums. The last part of this job entails intersorting the small stack of pictures left over into the appropriate album, label the albums, then find a "forever home" for all.

How I wish I had another four-day weekend at my disposal to complete the job. Just wait a minute! If I hadn't worked two out of the four days, a two-day weekend should have been sufficient.

My weeks exhaust me. It is time to work on a way to make my life work more efficiently. 

I am eyeing up a few more extended long weekends on the horizon. That could do the trick ...