The Future is Looking Good

My thoughts are scattered lately. I have been thinking of everything, nothing, trivial and important. Not one of the aforementioned categories have dominated my head space. I have let my thoughts waft in and out and through me.

Am I concerned about some things? Yes. Are they trivial matters or important ones. Both. Do I have control over any of the outcomes? Hmmm. Therein lies the crux of the matter for me.

Whenever I find my thoughts dominated by a predominant matter, I usually formulate an outline of what is within verses what is beyond my control. This reinstates a sense of calmness within.

I strongly feel that things will work out exactly as they are meant to be.

Work verses retirement? My steadfast answer is "I will work as long as my work lasts. I do not want to look for a new job and am willing to trust that all will work out as it is meant to be". I need the income and my employer(s) need what I have to offer. It is a mutually beneficial situation.

Enter my potential retirement home. I find myself longing for the day this will be my full time residence. I feel a sense of anticipation about the future which is new and exciting. 

I have wandered through the phases and stages of my life without much of a plan. Life always necessitated a move. Getting married. Having a child. Leaving a marriage. Moving to a new province. Changing jobs. Relationships. Parenting. Loss... 

Moving on and moving through each major life event has created a life I am very comfortable living. I am exactly where I am meant to be. 

Yet I'm longing for something. There is a feeling of unrest within. 

I want to fast forward through the next few years. I am finding myself eager to get through the messy middle of the present phase I'm living. I have one foot where I want to go and one foot securely placed in where I am.

There is so much out of my control. Yet I could take the reins and navigate the terrain to place me where I see myself wanting to be.

Life is complicated. There are so many valid reasons I must stay the course. I feel it in my bones. I am exactly where I am meant to be. The groundwork has been laid for a promising future.

I like where I am and the future looks good. I can't remember feeling quite this way before. There is a ominous feeling churning within me as I anticipate the unknown. 

Is it another sign?

I'm On My Way

From my limited personal perspective, a lot of good things came out of how I navigated throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. I have several examples but one of my all time personal favorites (though it may come after working from home) is online grocery shopping.

I take our grocery list and casually add items to our cart while I'm enjoying my morning coffee. I love the handy dandy Easy Reorder feature. I like the friendly reminders of personal favorites and regularly ordered items. I feel less alone in the fact that my grocery shopping cart is very similar from week to week and there is no judgement that comes with those reminders. Yes, it is a well documented fact that convenience foods and chips are staples in our household. 

I enjoy the convenience of being able to come back to my unsubmitted order and modify my choices. It gives me every opportunity to always remember to buy everything we need (even though I am usually starting my next shopping list moments after hitting the "Place Order" button).

The time I save by being able to order from home is by far the best byproduct of online shopping. I am less stressed. I don't have to navigate the aisles/people/line-ups. Someone does the shopping for me, rings it in and loads it all in my trunk. Shopping doesn't get much better than this!

The joy I feel when I press the "I'm on my way" on the shopping app is like no other.

One quick stop on my way from home from work and voila! I let them know what parking stall I am in and the color of my car. All I have to do is pop the trunk when I hear them coming.

I am not a fan of shopping at the best of times. I am so grateful the pandemic has introduced me to a method of shopping that suits me to a "T".

"I'm on my way" - one more little sign that simply makes me happy.

You're Almost There ...

It has been an interesting week. My goal of getting up an hour earlier than usual has been met with unforeseen obstacles which have hindered my ability to start my mornings with leisurely writing. Here is one more tale of my saga.

I start my mornings by signing into my work computer, checking emails, banking and taking care of any immediate work requirements. I proceed to make my morning smoothie and head into our den to do my online puzzles, check into the blogs I follow, do my own personal banking and utilize any leftover time to stop here to write.

As you can see, my morning routines are pretty wrapped up in the ability to access our internet. This was the message that started yesterday morning:

I panicked. I thought the problem was related to my work computer alone. Then I decided to check my personal computer. Then my WiFi access on my phone. No internet.

Our internet provider also provides our telephone and cable services. I checked the phone. No dial tone. I turned on the TV. Our cable connection was still alive and well.

I called for technical assistance. They weren't open yet. So I did what any logical person would do. I made a cup of coffee and sat down to watch TV. It was the only convenience available to me, wasn't it?

No.

As I sat and savored my coffee, I started counting my blessings. We had power. I had a cell phone to use while our house phone was out of service. There was nothing stopping me from writing but simple lack of motivation. 

A day without internet and a telephone started to take on a whole new look. I could clean up and organize my office files. I could shred my personal documents. I could vacuum the house; wash windows; tend to the weeds that are overtaking the catwalk beside our fence. 

Oh, the things I could do without the outside interference of a telephone and internet connection. I started to feel joyful at the prospects for the day.

But I had to persevere. Telephone and internet access are a big part of my work-from-home requirements. So I continued to call our cable provider every hour on the hour until there was an answer at 7:00 a.m.

I have only applause and praise for the person who answered my call and walked me through the hour that followed. 

Apparently my problem was my problem alone. It wasn't something affecting our area of the city. It was specific to my account. I was promised I would not be abandoned. "Please be patient with me and I will not end this call until your services are restored".

As promised, our call did not end until I had a work-around for every issue (and the issues seemed to compound as our call went on) and I was able to function within my home office as required.

Again as promised, I received a follow up call when all emails were restored, to ensure all my problems were resolved. 

I was in awe of a second incident of Excellent Customer Service within the first half of my work week. I thanked this customer service person profusely and ensured they knew how appreciative I was of everything they did to assist me.

The unfortunate part of my story is the original "You're almost there ..." message continues to be displayed every time I try to access my webmail on a Chrome browser. I've found a workaround solution to the problem but am haunted by the words. 

I have been re-watching the Gilmore Girls for the umpteenth time. I recently watched the episode The Road Trip to Harvard: 

"We're almost there and nowhere near it. All that matters is we're going." ~ Gilmore Girls

Hmmm ... is this yet another sign within the many signs that have been appearing within my life? 

You're almost there ...

Shattered

Monday mornings are a jolt of reality infused into our lives whether we want it or not. Monday can feel hard. Harder yet, when your mode of transportation has been vandalized.

A broken car window was the catalyst of this week. This is what I swept off the ground and out of the car and all that remained of a rear passenger window:

I uttered orders like a drill sergeant. "Call work. Tell them what happened and that you will be late. File a police report. I'll clean this up."

Bam! Bam! Bam! We shot into action and went forward from there. 

The car, minus a window, was drivable. I stayed home and proceeded to make phone calls to track down replacement glass for a 26 year old obsolete vehicle. 

After calling and investigating every source I could think of, I thought the only answer was to replace the car. I have been seriously considering upgrading my own 19 year old car anyway. It just wasn't in the budget quite so soon. But perhaps it was solution to the problem.

One nudge from my son, telling me he had found a place that could order in and replace the window was all it took. Unfortunately I had misinformed him about which window was broken so the story did not end there. 

I took a lunch break and resumed my search. First phone call after my break, with a little more information to go on, and voila! The window replacement was found, ordered, delivered and installed 48.5 hours later. At a cost that was almost $80.00 cheaper than my son's original quote.

The service from Unique Collision and Glass was second to none. Every promise was delivered as expected. Plus they provided not only shuttle service to work but also delivered the car to my daughter's place of employment when the work was complete.

An act of vandalism (the window was merely smashed - the doors were not even unlocked, nor was the car ransacked in any way to indicate theft was the motivation) had the power to shatter the hope of a new week dawning. But it didn't break us.

Back to 1978

I couldn't shred history without taking a sneak peek at a few statistics that interest me. 

The year I was about to shred was 1978 - the year I married and had my first child. So I stopped and pulled out a few documents:

Dad's rate of pay - $6.30 per hour

Christmas bonus - $50.00

Interest rate on a 2 year Guaranteed Investment Certificate - 10.25%

Electricity, water, telephone bill - $39.08

Heating bill - $26.13

Long distance rate - $0.46 per minute (after 6 p.m.)

Hmmm ... let's compare that to 2021 statistics I have on hand:

Minimum wage - $11.45/hr (note: a full time wage of $21.16 = annual salary of $44,012.80, which is considered the lowest end of the middle class tax bracket in Canada)

Christmas bonus - a $50 bonus beats $0.00 every time

2 year GIC (at the same institution) - 0.50%

2021 - monthly bills based on my equalized payment amounts:

Electricity - $114.00

Water - $90.00

Heat - $80.00

Telephone - $25.00

Long distance rate - $0.05 per minute any time of day

 

Dad's net pay biweekly cheque was $480.00 ($1,040 monthly)

Monthly bills totaled $75.00 (7% of his monthly wage)

His Christmas bonus was almost 5% of his monthly wage

A $1,500 investment earned $153.75 (at today's rate of interest you would earn $7.50)

Interesting math, no matter what way you spin it. How do your finances stand up to this 1978 comparison? 

Life was simpler back in 1978, or so it would seem by today's standards. We can't go back in time but it's interesting to take a peek every now and again.

Hidden Benefits

I have accidentally locked one of our cats in our den on more than one occasion. One would think one would learn their lesson after doing so. Twice. One would be wrong.

The scene of the crime:

The aforementioned cat was sitting on a chair in the den prior to my closing the door. When the mere act of vacuuming the room in close proximity to the cat didn't make him budge, I proceeded to vacuum the chair he was resting on. 

The cat moved, I vacuumed the chairs, then proceeded to close the door behind me. The cat guilty of hiding out under the couch while I did a visual check before closing the door was safely outside the room.

Then I left the house. For the weekend.

Did I mention we have two cats? We do. It was the second cat who somehow got locked in the den. For two days.

There were some minor demeanors of a cat in need of a litter box, but all in all the cat escaped relatively unscathed from the event.

The only victim was a huge box full of papers to be shredded. The box top was folded shut so the "liquid" did not infiltrate the entire box but it did necessitate cutting off the box flaps and initiated the process of shredding the first layer of papers-to-be-shredded.

One day at a time, one layer at a time, the cat-locked-in-the-den-incident has nudged me into action. This box of shredding WILL be dealt with. After months of procrastination, one ill fated weekend with a cat has forced me into action.

Our cat may require therapy to get over the emotional scars (in reality, he seems to be rolling with the aftermath rather well and had in fact dominated the couch in "his" den after the ordeal), but I am grateful for the much needed push to do what should have been done long ago.

The Writing on the Wall

There is something mystical about the way I feel each and every time I walk into my little home-away-from-home.

The house has been furnished with the excess from my home. It seems each piece of furniture comes with a story and a bit of history. The kitchen table was Mom's; Dad made the bench we use at the table; Dad reinforced one kitchen stool, while the second stool was Mom's; a bed that was once my brother's; the rocking chair Mom gave me prior to the birth of my youngest child; a dresser my sister refinished and donated when we moved to our new city with little besides the clothes on our back; a kitchen that is largely comprised of what was divvied up among us after Mom died; the stories go on and on. There is a large piece of history woven into the essence of the house. 

My son has sold his home and is storing some of his belongings within our joint investment which has added another dimension to our shared space. 

The only thing that has been out-sourced in the picture below are the kitchen chairs which fit into our home full of misfit furniture which has somehow come together in a wonderfully cohesive home.

Then there is the house itself, which seemed to call out and touch us in a up close and personal way  ...

 ... could it be as literal as the writing on the wall?

P.S. The flash on my camera wouldn't work when I snapped this picture, adding a dimness which enhances the writing on the wall, while still capturing the essence of the house which has been furnished with history. I kept the picture because it said what I wanted it to say. 

Welcome Home

This is the sign that greeted me as I walked into the weekend past:

The letter holder was Mom's. 

It has found its way back into a house that feels like home.

The writing was my son's,

so I looked for more of a message underneath the welcoming words.

Two words were enough.

I always feel such awe when

a small thing makes such a big difference.

So Many Words (so little time)

I feel the words bubbling up inside of me again and life-as-I-am-living-it feels too busy to take the time to write.

The moment I started writing that paragraph, my answer was obvious. Get up earlier!

I am a morning person. I love spending time at my little home-away-from-home. I wake up in the wee hours of the morning to open windows and blinds to let in all the cool morning air possible before the day heats up. Once up, I stay up. 

Staying up is the answer. I went back to bed the last morning I spent at my little oasis-away-from-home. When I finally deemed it time to get up, I felt awful. If I didn't know better, I would think perhaps I was sick. But I know better.

I know I felt just fine when I first awoke and opened up the blinds to harness the cool morning air. If I had went about my early morning rituals, I feel I would have avoided a day of feeling hungover (minus the alcohol).

Early morning is where it is at for me. 

I love the time before the rest of the world wakes up and starts demanding things from me. To talk. To think. To plan. 

The wee hours of the morning is the time when I let my thoughts wander wherever they want to go. Thoughts that are starting to beg to be written. Thoughts that propel me forward throughout the day. Thoughts that spark gratitude when I let myself sit still with seeds that have been planted the day(s) prior.

I have had so many blog posts in my mind that got lost along the way as life demanded more of me than time allowed. 

So many thoughts. It is time to make the time to be still with them. I like spending time with my thoughts. I enjoy my own company. For this, I am eternally grateful.

Penned In

Despite the vaguely worded construction notice our neighborhood received "Please remove all vehicles from the roadway and adjacent driveways", I was surprised to discover our entire driveway and garage would be completely inaccessible during "Phase 2" of a four phase plan:

I was relieved I noticed this scene unfolding prior to being completely blocked in but was a slight bit miffed at the inconvenience.

I woke up the next morning and gave myself a good talking to. Yes, this is a slight inconvenience. But it is for the greater good. The City is taking care of a water main replacement that wreaked havoc with our ability to access running water last winter. It was not just us. As the City remedied one problem, it created a new one. A domino effect of water main woes in the middle of a Saskatchewan winter was not fun for anyone.

I am so very grateful to live in a city where they take over and fix the problems. It is one of the benefits of paying property taxes. 

As I moaned and groaned about being "this close" to not being affected by the road closure, I was reminded that this repair was for the entirety of our street. If we weren't affected now, we would be next in line. 

The City has supplied us with running water, at no extra cost or inconvenience, while the water main is under repair. All in all, we must be grateful that such a major undertaking is affecting us as little as it is.

This has been a particularly busy week with out-of-home errands, appointments and commitments. As I saw that red fence going up I longed for the COVID stay-at-home recommendations. What if we had to stay home as long as it took for the repair to be completed? How would that feel?

As I found a temporary parking spot directly behind us and talked to my neighbor across the alley to explain the need to park in front of their home (immediately reminded of Mom's irritation when people she didn't know parked in front of her house), I felt myself feel relieved that we haven't been entirely confined to our home.

We have the freedom to come and go, while major repairs are underway. We have running water. We have everything we need while the City takes care of all of the heavy lifting.

I can't believe I'm writing this. I am relieved we are not as penned in as it appears. 

What I Try to Do

I have been trying. The habit of morning writing seems to ebb and flow but I keep thinking "Just write. Write anything". I want to resume the habit of writing and find that unconscious brain to fingertip writing that comes when I least expect it.

I found a piece of that puzzle within my quiet little home-away-from-home. Bigger thoughts and deeper writing found their way onto the page while I savored the early mornings. All over the page kinds of thoughts. Interconnected but varying hues of the same but different story.

As I pondered whether I will continue to go to this little oasis when it gets cold and snowy, the idea of utilizing this as a quiet space to  write and let my creative juices flow has trumped my reluctance to drive in the winter. 

In the meantime, I seem to be struggling to maintain the demands of work-and-life-at-home with my promise to "just write".

My life feels like this half stained fence. I ran out of stain before I ran out of fence. Valiant effort. But incomplete:

I could list all the things I have started and left hanging in the middle. Undone. Incomplete. Out of stain. Out of time. Out of motivation. But I won't.

I will just do as Maya Angelou says:

"What I try to do is write. I may write for two weeks “the cat sat on the mat, that is that, not a rat.” And it might be just the most boring and awful stuff. But I try. When I’m writing, I write. And then it’s as if the muse is convinced that I’m serious and says, 'Okay. Okay. I’ll come.' " 

~ Maya Angelou

Then I will hone in on completing the job.