Recharged & Restocked & Back-Up Plans

One never knows where a day may go when it starts with a dead car battery, when one has places to be and people to see. It turns out it led to a mud puddle. I'll get to that later.

Thankful I was fully aware of my battery charging issues, the best part of the day was knowing I just needed a boost to get me to where I needed to be and I could take care of the rest.

My trusted mechanic was available to squeeze the car in but made no promises. "If it's anything more than the battery, I'm afraid I can't take care of anything else until next week."

Hoping for the best, planning for the worst, I had a game plan no matter where the car battery issue led. 

It turns out, it led me to a puddle which was definitely the worst part of the day. No, not slipping and falling into it mere steps away from the mechanic's front door. No, not the mud packed jeans, from the knees (yes, knees) down. No, it wasn't the bloody, mud-packed wound on my knee. It was the hole in the only pair of jeans I own that fit me.

I rolled with everything like a trooper. But gazing down to the holey knee in my jeans was a resounding, "OH!! NOOOOO!!!!"

Not to be deterred, I had a plan. I had bought a pair of pants that didn't fit and was hopeful Value Village would allow me to exchange them for my next new-to-me pair of jeans.

Yes!!! They extended their two week return policy to the month it took for me to get back to the city. I found two potential options. Bought only one. Brought them home and despite the sinking feeling I had that they weren't the ones, I was still disappointed when they didn't fit properly. The good news, is my ability to exchange them today. 

The better news is Plan B. Today's mission is a denim patch for my holey jeans and fabric glue.

I have gone through more black socks since I started back to work than ever before in the history of ever. I have found my most favorite (priced) black socks at Dollarama. Three pairs for $2.50 - a price that can't be beat. I have tried more expensive socks. No difference in their endurance. I choose cheap and buy in bulk. Whenever I go to Dollarama, I wander down the sock aisle to replenish my back-up supply. I have been looking for months. Nothing. I was down to a back-up supply of only one pair. So ... when I found my favorite socks yesterday, I bought all I could find in the store. Twenty one pairs of socks for $19.43 INCLUDING taxes.

Anyway, back to my story going nowhere but everywhere ...

I haven't had the heart to throw out all of these socks. Maybe I could sew up the toes when I get my sewing machine set up. If ever they stopped replenishing the socks in the store, I have a back-up plan. Back-up plans. It's all about back-up plans.

Add this to the fact that my most favorite black pajama pants have not been restocked since 2018 (yes, I know these things). I should have bought more at the time. Seven years later, after constant use, the knees on my pajama pants are wearing thin. I need to find new ones or find a way to patch them. Hence, the stock pile of black socks just may come in handy. If only I could think of a way to adhere them to my pj's.

Enter a humorous story told by my brother-in-law last weekend. He told of a time when his youngest sister thought she was putting Brylcreem (a hair styling product for men) on her hair, when it was actually fabric glue. The end result was a buzz-cut before buzz-cuts were in vogue. 

Funny but tragic story ... but the wheels in my head immediately started to turn. I just need to buy fabric glue to glue patches (cut to size) from my holey sock supply to my holey pajama pants.

Today's mission: replacement jeans; denim patches; fabric glue.

Life has come full circle. It's no wonder some people have a hard time parting with old belongings. If you hang onto something long enough, one can find a use for most anything.

P.S. My battery issue remains a mystery. Despite testing the battery and alternator, and cleaning/lubricating up a corroded negative battery connection, he has no explanation as to why this is happening. All I can say, is I'm grateful for the one-click-warning I get. One click upon trying to start the car. Then it starts. For an untold number of times after the warning. Until it doesn't.

Write at Night

Write at Night - this was yesterday morning's epiphany. This would become my new habit. Write at night in order to extend my existence past 6:30 pm. Long story short? I didn't work.

It still feels like night, as I write this. Sunrise is 40 minutes away, so "I still have time" (I hear Mr. Incredible's voice in my head as I write this).

I've restarted the habit of writing three, hand written 8-1/2" X 11" pages every morning from my room with a view within my home. I'll write more about that another day. That little room is becoming a dream come true for me. Truly an oasis within this little home of mine ...

The habit of writing my unedited thoughts and just going with the flow of wherever the pen takes me has been tedious at times but for the most part, it has been clearing out the clutter of my thoughts. Does everyone spend their day with their Inner Critic nattering endlessly in the background as life-as-you-live it? Or is it just me?

I have named my Inner Critic "Gertrude". And man!? Gertrude is quite the piece of work a lot of days. She has a snide tone to her voice. Nasal to be exact. With attitude. Nag. Nag. Nag. I write her out of my thoughts as I write my Morning Pages. It helps.

The vast majority of my morning thoughts are to-do-tasks, counting down to the weekend, naming the day and my feelings about it. Blah, blah, blah.

This morning, as I (once again) counted down the days until the weekend, I thought of how this weekend countdown ritual reminded me of my youth and how I may never outgrow it. It put a different spin on my tired old tale of working for the weekend.

I listed off a long list of little things that remind me of my youth and how I nurture my inner child. Thankfully I have written this list in longhand, so I won't bother repeating myself here. But I ended my list with my home-of-choice these days.

I moved back to my Home Province thirty seven years ago. I moved back to my Town of Birth eight months ago. This morning, I tried to envision moving back to my home of thirty six years and I couldn't see it.

I moved off the farm as a child fifty five years ago. Every step I've taken since that time has led me to this exact moment in time. I've said it before and I hope to keep saying it - I am exactly where I am meant to be.

I'm content. Life feels very different than it felt a year ago. There have been a few growing pains but for the most part it has been growth in a very positive way. I don't embrace change so I've made it harder on myself than it had to be. One forward step at a time, I've made my way to where I am at this very moment.

I'm home.

Now What?

I stumbled upon Brooke Shield's podcast "Now What?" a few days ago. Everything about it speaks to me. Starting with the title. "Now what?"

That is exactly where I am right now. Purgatory. One foot in two different worlds. Each foot feeling solidly placed but the space in between (where my head and thoughts reside) is feeling torn and angsty.

Thus, Brooke's podcast had me from the moment GO. All of her guests share a story of  "Now what?" moments. That spot where you must move on from where you are. A place when life forces your hand and you must move onward and out of an existing situation.

I have a good history of knowing what to do next when life forces my hand. It is entirely different when I'm the one who is navigating the course. Indecision, uncertainty and rerunning the same words and scenarios over and over in my head and conversations has become old. 

I'm tired of the loop I'm in. I cannot imagine those who are listening to my repetitive conversations. "Make a move. Make a change. Make a decision. And act accordingly, Girl!!"

The forward steps I have taken into my "Now what" decision feel right. I have a deep sense of feeling I'm headed in the right direction. Until I come back home. 

It is hard to move onto from someplace so comforting, familiar and full of good memories. It's hard to let go of something good and reach toward something new. Am I just running away from life-as-I-know it? Or walking towards a future I believe in? A little bit of both.

It is the running-away-from element that haunts me. I know I need to let go before I move on. Letting go is hard.

Now what?

It's a New Year!

July 1st feels like a brand new year this year.

All accounting jobs and expectations for the previous year end have been wrapped up.

On one hand, one of my jobs will be ending any day now.

On the other hand, I have given a one year's notice of resignation to my accounting job. My goal is to organize my little office and wrap up the year 2023. Leave my work organized enough so my heir-apparent can step into the role I will leave behind.

I will then move to my little oasis on the prairie. My hope is to take the summer off and then step into a job with hours conducive to living a life beyond work, make friends and connections and let my next "happily ever after" begin.

I have learned there are no happily ever afters in life. Simply new beginnings, renewed hope and more change. Always change.

The only thing certain in life are death and taxes and change.

I have drawn a line in the cement and I'm making way for a renewed life. One year from today ...

Happy New Year! 

The Domino Effect

One decision. One action. One move in a forward direction has the power to change so much.

I write this sentence and my life flashes before my eyes. All the times one move in a forward direction after making a hard choice has changed my world forever.

Today's story is just one example of the power of choice. It all started with the words, "Random idea for you to think about ..." 

It was as if I walked into a chess game with all the game pieces already in play and all I had to do was make ONE move and the game played out as well as we could have ever hoped for (as far as we know so far).

So many variables came into play. Each and every game player was in a time and space to make a move. Each of us made calculated decisions based on exactly where we were at that place and time. In no time flat, an offer was on the table for a small house in small town Saskatchewan. The rest is history-in-the-making.

The seller of the property was in a place where they accepted our offer. That is a story I will most likely never know. I just hope their decision to sell at this particular time has been a choice that has had a positive effect in their life.

In the short term, this investment has opened up a whole realm of possibilities for my co-owner. This move changed their possible range of trajectories in a direction which feels nothing short of amazing.

In the long term, this could become my future home in retirement. I am asked on a regular basis to question the wisdom of this decision. I fully believe and my constant answer is "There are about a billion little things that must fall into place between 'now' and 'then', but I have faith that all will work out exactly how it is meant to be."

My date of retirement is contingent on how long my present job lasts. It could be long term. It could be a short time span. I honestly don't know. 

I am completely content not knowing. IF I knew what was coming I would be consumed with all that must take place and worry about my financial state of affairs far too much. The state of not knowing has given me a grace period to simply take one step at a time and do the next-right-thing.

My youngest must become fully independent and step into their own life before I can sell our present day home. Again, there are many variables at play which make estimating their date of departure from our safe little haven we call home. I trust all will work out in its own way. I have no need nor desire to know exactly how or when this will occur.

The house itself has a laundry list of repairs and maintenance which at some point may make us question the wisdom of our decision. But in this moment, today, for the exact purpose we made an offer on and purchased this home, it is in move-in-condition and it has felt like home from the moment we adopted it as our own.

In the short term, there are things I can do with materials I already have on hand. It is costing nothing more than my time and effort. My thoughts are healthier when I am consumed with a project and the rewards are priceless. 

I have not felt this content and focused on a future "aspiration" since I completed my dad's family's book of memories in the fall of 2014. This alone is worth its weight in gold. 

One decision. So many potential outcomes. The domino effect of living life is ongoing. This can go many ways. I am beyond grateful our dominos seem to be heading us in a positive direction.

Next project - free of charge - scrape and paint the exterior door casings

Rebirth

Today is my youngest son's twenty second birthday. It is no wonder when I sat down with an empty page, pen in one hand and coffee in the other this morning, that my pen started to ramble on birth and rebirth. My thoughts took me down memory lane as I thought of the birth of each of my sons and how I was reborn each time.

My firstborn son was born in August. By January, I was separated from my husband and the need to become a self-supporting parent of one was my guiding light. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Thankfully we had my parent's home and support to weather the storm. I not only found one job, but two. In short order, due to a subsidized mortgage offering, I was able to qualify to purchase a townhouse for us to move into.

1978 My First Time Reborn - Baby. Divorce. Start a job. Buy a house.

My second son was born in September. By December, I left my on-again-off-again marriage for the third and final time. Dad died three days later. His funeral was back "home"- where our family originated and my first home. One off hand comment to the effect of "You should move back 'home'..." was all I needed to set the wheels in motion. That is exactly what we did.

1987 My Second Rebirth - Baby. Divorce. Find a new job. Move to a new province. Create new life.

My third and final child was born in June. By December, I had applied for a year's leave of absence from my employer to test the waters to see if I could open a daycare from my home. I did exactly that and I've never looked back.

1998 My Third Time Reborn - Baby. Leave job. Strike out on my own. Work from home. Become a full-time parent for the third and final time.

The birth of each of my children changed my life, changed me and redirected me towards a better path. My children were an average of ten years apart in age so perhaps my life was in need of a major change at each of these pivotal decades.

It often feels easiest to just keep doing what we are doing and not shake up our world too much, too often. Once every ten years or so worked for me. In fact, as I wrote those words I quietly wondered if I reinvented myself ten years after my youngest child was born. And I did.

My youngest son's father and I broke up late spring. The life I had imagined myself living evaporated into thin air. I was lost. I spent the summer painting and maintaining our home. When winter set in, I started down the road to collecting family memories and binding them together in the form of a book. The following spring, the first book of a series of two was almost complete.

2008 An Unexpected Rebirth - Separation. Ambition. Motivation. Finding myself and my place within our extended family. The birth of two books of Family Memories.

The last decade's transition was less about birth and more focused on loss. Mom's last year was life changing. In September, the wheels were set in motion to create a life where I could be exactly where I wanted to be. Mom's health situation was diagnosed in February. She focused on her continued independence and did not want us to worry. To be able to go out to Mom's on a whim, in good times and in bad was exactly where I wanted and needed to be. She died in September. It was my final year of being a daughter. It is a year I will never regret.

2017 Focus on Being a Daughter - A diagnosis. Moving through. Being there. Loss. Moving on.

I'm in between major decade transitions at the moment. I sense another transition is in the air. I am reminding myself to focus on the moment. Moving through the challenges. Being there. In the midst of the seriousness, our home is going through its own transitions and re-inventing its purpose which is a delightful diversion to all that is going on in the world around us.

Focus on the moment. Be grateful for what "is". Be there. Be motivated. Keep reinventing yourself as the world moves on. One forward step in front of another.

It is truly no wonder they call the birthing process "labor". It is a labor of love but well worth the effort.

Unrest

I am loosely paraphrasing something I read recently about dreams.

Dreams written down become goals. Formulating the steps required to attain those goals becomes a plan. Following through on those steps becomes action. Taking action on a dream which was once only a wisp of a dream turns into achieving your dreams.

I used to dream.

I used to visualize where I wanted to be. I often wrote those dreams down. I sometimes added visuals to the dream. Then came the process. Step by step. One small step at a time. Dreams became reality.

I can scour the archives of this blog and my journals to witness the process I unknowingly created time and time and time again.

Unrest instigated the need for change.

Change is a process that required a set of goals.

Goals necessitated action and effort.

Effort was the catalyst of all that followed.

Achieving goals was the reward for all of the above.

The goals were achieved one step at a time. Yes, it was nice to reach the top of that mountain and enjoy the view. In retrospect, I realize I wouldn't have enjoyed the view a fraction of the amount if I hadn't personally overcome all it took to reach the summit.

Unrest. Change. Goals. Effort. Achievement.

Embrace the unrest. It is the catalyst which has the power to take you where you need to go.

Bed Hog and Cat Litter

You know all is well enough in the world when the biggest worry you have is finding a new brand of cat litter.

Yes, I woke up with cats on my mind this morning. Is it any wonder, when I roll over to discover Jet has taken ownership of one quarter of the real estate in my bed?

Back in the day when Jet didn't monopolize the bed, Ray found room for himself on the opposite corner of the bed. Look at the tiny little corner he squeezes into:

It has become the norm to make my bed around Jet and carry on with the day. So far, Jet hasn't taken ownership of the task of making up his side of the bed.

Yes, life is tough when one's biggest dilemma is trying to find a replacement for something that always worked well in the past. I hate change. But the world continues to insist I learn to adapt to the harsh realities of life. 

Until there are no more cats who reside under our roof, there will be cat litter. Life goes on. Of all the worries in the world there are to wake up to, this is a pretty good one. 

I am grateful for the bed-hogging, hair-shedding, cat-litter users who reside in our home. Life wouldn't be the same without them.

Something is in the Air (it may be change)

Something is about to change. I can feel it in my bones ...

I may have mislabeled the feeling as anxiety. I put words to it as I spoke aloud yesterday morning. "I feel like my fight or flight mode has been activated."

My vivid dream about Mom wandering around and ready to go home a few nights ago, coupled with two of Mom's favorite people in the world coming into focus lately has ignited a fire within me.

Just be there. Show up.

I am looking at our home and focusing on making it feel like a safe haven. A soft place to land. A place of comfort and peace.

After I closed my daycare, I was driven with a force of energy I haven't been able to summon since. I had a very strong feeling I was making room for change. I emptied rooms, cupboards and storage areas. Our home was open to whatever came next.

Then Mom died. Little did I know I had made room for some of Mom's belongings. They had a home here long before a home was required. This was not what I expected but it calmed me to know I had already made room for what was to come.

Our home has been undergoing a bit of an identity crisis ever since. "I have three spare bedrooms," I would tell those who were facing a fork in a road where relocation may be an option. I have room. No one came.

My bedroom availability has shifted and changed since that time. I still have the ability to house a lot of guests for a short or long time period, offering privacy, space, quiet and (unfortunately) a fair bit of cat hair to go along with it.

I have made the offer again. This time the answer was yes.

The tides are shifting. They may ebb and flow and it is quite possible life will go back to a slightly revised new normal for those who touch my world.

I am simply grateful to have something to offer.

Mom would be pleased...

Juggling Time

My world has shifted on its axis just a little bit in the form of a revised sleep schedule which has left me scrambling for time when I savor it the most.

My son will be performing in a play which has comes with a great time commitment. Since parking in and around his place of education comes at a hefty price, I have been on "pick-up" detail. This has been ongoing since his first day back to school. Four weeks of rehearsals plus one week during the performance. Rehearsals are a four to five hour commitment, Monday through Saturday throughout the duration.

This has required me to shift my preferred sleeping hours by about two hours. My early morning wake up time which gave me most of the morning time I crave is lacking. Yes, I have gained that time in the evening but I come home at the end of my days thoroughly depleted. Two extra waking hours in the evening are lost on me.

I am not making the most of the hours I have at my disposal. This is not new. It is simply an adjustment of what I had made work for me in the past.

I have not carved out time to write "just for me". I tried adjusting writing three, 8-1/2" X 11" long hand morning pages routine into a half hour commitment. Or three small pages. Or listening to inspirational podcasts or videos. I can't do it all. I have a hard time honing in on one of the above.

This week, I thought I would try to write during the time it takes my son to shower. Approximately fifteen minutes. This morning I have squandered my time explaining one of the many varied excuses I have for not showing up.

Life is fluid. The need to change, shift and adapt is a requirement. The ability to be flexible has been challenging me for a very long time.

Perhaps it was time to try out a new morning schedule. The need to have an after work hours life would most likely be beneficial. We'll see how this goes. Two and a half more weeks to go. Then the schedule will morph into something new.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I hate change. I know change is good for me, a requirement for living and being adaptable is a positive thing. I'll focus on the positives.

Tomorrow, nothing but positive energy will flow out of these fingers of mine.

The World is Whispering to Me (aka: I Hate Change!)

I feel like the world is trying to reroute my comfortable little morning routine.

I used to love reading the almost-daily posts from my favorite bloggers. I would fill myself up with humor, perspective and little nuggets of inspiration before I sat still and wrote my own thoughts of the day. I would have a cup of coffee or two while I wrote then tend to all that needed tending before my daycare days began. Then during our afternoon quiet time, I would sit down with various word and number puzzles to satisfy my need to challenge my mind as my daycare family slept.

Life has evolved and morphed into my revised routines since then.

My favorite bloggers have either turned to other social media outlets or write only sporadically or not at all. I've tried to find new favorite authors and have had mild success. My interests have evolved, the world isn't the same and I haven't found a comfortable niche of regular bloggers to follow. I closed my daycare, work outside of my home and no longer have "quiet time" in the middle of my day. So I have skipped straight to my word and number puzzles to kick start my days.

My puzzle providers have changed a few times over the course of time. I would seek out and find my favorite puzzles in new places. I added to my selection of puzzles and my time commitment to puzzling has increased.

A few weeks ago, I thought it was happening again. Most of my puzzles were unavailable when I went to the site. I thought, "Here we go again. They are closing down shop and I will have to find new puzzles elsewhere." But there was a ray of hope. Instead of a dead end, it simply looked like the puzzle was slow in loading. I came back and tried, tried and tried again. Eventually, through the course of the next few hours, I could load each of my favorite puzzles and still have the satisfaction of completing that little morning task before carrying on with the day.

Enter one more glitch. My son just started some morning classes three days a week which means I have to leave the house an hour earlier than usual. Instead of bemoaning the fact that I will either lose an hour of my quiet morning time OR I will have to get up an hour earlier, I became consumed with the fact that I won't have time to wait for my morning puzzles to become available before I start the day.

I took a long, deep breath and told myself there was a work-around. I would get up an hour earlier. I would write first. I would load this morning's puzzles and leave them open so I can work on them tomorrow morning. I would find a way to overcome this obstacle.

Never mind the fact that I could and should be taking this bonus hour and going for a brisk morning walk. Or perhaps try to restart the "exercise" habit. Maybe even vacuum? No, no, no. I continue to try to load each of my puzzles as I write this post and feel a small bit exasperated that I must put this habit of challenging my mind on hold.

Do you ever feel like the world is trying to tell you something? Then when you don't listen, that "whisper" becomes an inconvenience. Then the inconvenience becomes a shouting match?

Yes, World. I hear you. But I'm not listening to your call. I just want my little piece of normalcy. Inspirational reading material and puzzles to challenge my mind. Is that really too much to ask?

Apparently.

New Day, Different View

I write here within my sheltered and quiet little world then drive off into my day and think about what I have written.

My morning thoughts are the most unfiltered words of my day. This can be good or it can be bad. Quite often, the words are simply the seeds of ideas which I wake up with and they grow throughout the day.

Yesterday, I wrote about the adjustment period I'm going through after I switched bedrooms a few days prior. I wrote of the minor inconvenience of having to change my routine and find my new normal.

Then I drove into my day where I hang out with friends who could be my mother.

I spend my days in and around seniors who have moved into retirement residences. They are living independently but they have packed up their lifetime and moved it into smaller quarters, into a city which has not been their home and they have readjusted their lives to fit into their new surroundings.

They have done this willingly and on their own. There are support systems in place and they aren't alone in trying to make this change. But the change is huge.

Everyone's situation is different and each person adapts in their own way. A person who has spent a good portion of their life moving to different locations may adjust easier than one who settles in and makes one house their forever home.

I can't help but think of Mom and our wish that she would have decided to move back close to her family home so she could be nestled in and among family and old friends. She often said "If only I could pick up this house and move it ..." she may have considered the notion.

Moving locations is one thing. Uprooting your life and moving an entire lifetime of belongings into a smaller space is another.

The thing "all of the above" has in common is the ability to choose. Feeling in control of your life, where you are and how you live is one of our greatest gifts. I cannot help but think of those who are unable to make those very same choices. When a health situation changes circumstances and others have to make that choice for you.

This brings me to Dad. He suffered a severe brain injury after a massive heart attack and he was at the mercy of those who made necessary choices for him. As dire as this situation sounds, he was still one of the fortunate ones. Mom made decisions in Dad's best interest. A multitude of thoughts waft through my mind as I write these words but most importantly, even though he never came home again he was not alone.

I think of those who are not so fortunate. Those who find themselves in a situation where changes must be made but they don't have a support system in place to advocate for them, walk with them and most importantly sit beside them as they adapt to a life that was not of their choosing.

I think of the variety of ways we lose our ability to be in control of our own destiny. To maintain one's health is a blessing. To hold onto our memories, our ability to communicate and live within a body that allows us to live independently is a gift beyond words.

As I navigate through the minor changes I voluntarily make within this sheltered little life I lead, I must remind myself how fortunate I am. I walked through this morning with an entirely different perspective. I feel like I am living in a whole new home and all I had to do to accomplish this was move a few belongings upstairs.

I have an entirely new view of my world and I didn't even have to leave home to find it. Sometimes a new perspective is the best thing one can find.

Adjustments

I'm not a big fan of change. Judging by the way our cat family have taken to the change of our bedroom, I would say changing where one sleeps says a lot about a person (or cat).

Night #1 - I felt like I didn't sleep at all. I tossed. I turned. I kept waking up. I felt unsettled. I missed the presence of our Senior Cat of the house (Ray). He didn't find his spot to sleep in my room at all that night. In fact, when I woke up one time I searched the house to find our missing cats. By morning,our Second Cat in Command (Jet) was resting comfortably at the foot of my bed.

Night #2 - I slept better than the first night. Jet resumed his previous morning's resting spot quite early in the evening. Ray hopped up near my head and tapped me for a few middle-of-the-night head scratches. But for the most part, he was missing in action.

Night #3 - Ray was still pretty skittish about this new sleeping arrangement. He had grown quite accustomed to his spot in the far off corner of our king sized bed in our downstairs bedroom. This queen sized bed is quite an adjustment. Where is someone to sleep if they don't like to be touched, disturbed and can comfortably keep their eye on things from afar? 

Morning #4 - I awoke to find Ray resting uncomfortably in a trial sleeping spot on the opposite corner of where Jet was snoozing. 

I found myself sleeping diagonally across the bed to create a comfortable boundary for the two cats slumbering at my side. 

A combination of the diagonal sleeping position plus a layering of pillows and not having the TV on throughout the night seems to be working for me. 

Sleeping crosswise on the bed creates a safe space for all three of us. I am quite comfortable to find myself smack dab in the middle of our un-snugly cats. I have room to move without disturbing either one of them.

I stumbled across a magical combination of a memory foam pillow plus a down pillow which seems to be cradling my neck while supporting my head. I haven't woken up with a sore neck for two mornings now. This is heavenly.

The TV/DVD combo, minus a Netflix connection didn't work for me. Instead, I have been utilizing the Netflix channel on my phone which turns itself off completely when a show ends. No white light. No subliminal "hum" of an operational appliance left on. Silence plus the natural light of the rising sun, with a cat on each side of me is starting to feel good.

This adjustment has not been without its trials. But we are figuring things out.

Jet - is who I want to be. He assesses the situation, finds a new normal, is comfortable with that change and adapts quickly.

Ray - is me to the extreme. He likes security, routine and does not like his comfort zone being violated. He assesses the situation and walks away. When he realizes this may be the new normal he checks things out and still walks away. When he is feeling a little antsy about the fact that he misses his old reality, he gently taps me on the head in the middle of the night for reassurance (or was that the night the cat food ran low - I can't remember for sure). When all else fails, he tries to adjust. It isn't easy. It isn't comfortable. He prefers the old way. But he tries.

Me - I reason myself through this adjustment and convince myself "change is good". I have an internal dialogue which is continually going back on forth on the pros and cons of the move. The biggest part of me is following the calling of the sun. I believe my moods are highly influenced by the moon. The whimsical part of me just follows the stars ...

I think I should follow Jet's lead. He doesn't think. He simply does what feels good. Ray does a little bit of that too. The reason I know this to be true is because within minutes of me opening the bedroom door and availing the space to our cats, this is what I found:

Jet - under the covers
Ray - as close as he ever gets to snuggling (atop the covers and right beside Jet)

It's a good move. Who ever said good is always easy. It is simply an adjustment to our norm. Ray and I have a bit more trouble with realigning ourselves with our new reality.

Adjustment periods are hard.

Movin' on Up

Well. I did it. I moved my bedroom back upstairs yesterday. Just in case I had any second thoughts, I moved every little thing. No trial run. I have moved back up.

Nothing feels quite right yet but I'm not giving up too quickly. It is time to peek my head upstairs and enjoy waking up to the sun.

I didn't wind down as easily. I didn't sleep well. But I did wake up and get up at an earlier than usual weekend waking time.

I vacuumed every nook and cranny of my old bedroom. I vacuumed and flipped the mattress then washed all the bedding. Other than a few items on the desk and a box of Kleenex, the room is completely vacated.

As I vacuumed the weekend away (the cat hair sagas continue), I was hopeful "if I cleaned it, they would come". And they did. Then they stayed for supper too.

As I emptied our (now) spare bedroom "suite", I remembered how I felt when I cleaned out the house as my daycare days wound down to a close. I felt like I was making room for change ...

I just searched the archives of my blog and found what I wrote back in October, 2016:

When the clutter and excess are gone, the dressers and closets emptied of everything that is not essential what will be left? How much can I simplify this life of ours over the course of the next three months? How far can I go? And what am I making room for?

There is not one thing whispering in my ear telling me the answers I am seeking. I just keep looking within these walls of ours and hear "Purge and release"and "Make room for change". If I empty it, they will come ...

I'm living in "The Field House of Dreams". I don't know where I'm going but I know what I must do next. That is enough for now.

True to the cycles of my life, I have been here before. I have felt this way before. The story of my life keeps repeating itself.

"What am I making room for?", I wonder quietly to myself as I vacated my most heavenly oasis of a bedroom. Perhaps? I'm making room for "me". Room to expand my horizons so I live a life that exists after I come home at the end of my work day.

I am so used to falling asleep at the drop of a pin, I thought it was odd that I didn't drop off so easily last night. Maybe, just maybe I am finding my way back to a new and improved normal. Maybe ...

Life Cycles

The longer I live, the more I find myself recreating a life I thought I had left behind. I see this on so many levels.

I went to my "Positive Thinking Articles" to find an article to articulate my thoughts and found myself wading through notes I could have written yesterday and positive words I have saved which speak to me today.

I've been here. I've done this. I've pulled myself up and out of the mire time and time again.

Why do I keep finding myself "here"? At a place where I'm wondering what is next and how to handle the present.

I could have sworn that I had learned this lesson the last time. Every time life gets hard, I find myself quitting. I've quit relationships, I've quit jobs, I've walked away and abandoned the life I created so I could start all over again. Time and time again.

The lesson I most likely need to learn is that quitting is not the answer. The answer lies in staying true to the course, overcoming obstacles and gaining a new perspective from the next level one hits at that point.

It's always darkest before the dawn. That's what they say. Dawn is arriving far too soon all of a sudden. I prefer the darkness ...

Time Management

The longer I live, the poorer I get at managing my time.

I just puttered away two hours this morning. Granted, I sent off an email, balanced my budget, made some short range plans and stimulated my brain with my morning puzzles. BUT I lost two hours in (what felt like) the blink of an eye.

If it was just "me" and my home life, this would be okay. But this mismanagement of time is infiltrating my long range goals, my state of productivity and my work.

I am a stickler for routine. On the job and off. I like to clear the deck of all small tasks before I tackle something big. I do this at home. I do this when I tackle any project or job. I did this when I studied, while I assembled our family's memories and when I have taken on organizing family events. 

I do this all the time. I clear the clutter of "life" away and then I sit down and lose myself in the bigger projects at hand.

This does prove to be a very good excuse to procrastinate. I was not alone when I said my house was never cleaner, than when I was taking a correspondence course. I truly believe that "white space" creates fewer distractions and one can focus better on the job at hand. 

I have succeeded in what I have set out to do in the past. I have completed courses. I have created or been a co-creator in three family history books. I have arranged a reunion and kept a fully balanced accounting of all funds received for said reunion. I managed Mom's estate and all accounting related to it. 

I accounted for balanced every penny of Mom's funds, family reunion and book funds. I do income tax for others. I did my own taxes before I took them to the accountant and caught an error she made. I balance my own books to the penny. I balance books as unconsciously as I breathe. 

I obsess about balancing to the penny and check my work backwords, forwards and sideways before I put it to rest. I meticulously organize the end result of my work at hand, so if I was ever questioned on any part of the accounting, I would be able to retrace my steps and account for my thought process.

This should make me very good at my work BUT the time it takes to do things the way I like to do them is tripping me up. 

This is waking me up at night. Every night I have to work in the morning. It has been a long while since I felt I put in a productive day at work. The habits that work for me at home are not working for me in the work place.

"Listen to the whispers" is a chapter I just read in Oprah's new book. I've been able to hear the whispers in the past. It was harder when those whispers were guiding me away from my days of daycaring. I silenced the whispers but an ocular migraine scared the socks off me (I thought it may be a brain tumor as I was experiencing it) during my last day of work before a long awaited holiday. I offered to move out to Mom's that summer but settled for quitting my daycare instead. 

Another time, a hernia stopped me in my tracks which resulted in going back to school and rerouting my career after I listened to the quiet.

My sitting in a sunbeam moment after my Youngest Child was born was another moment of clarity when my life was quiet enough to listen to the beat of my own heart. I took a leave of absence from my work and opened my daycare. I have never looked back.

Prior to that, were the screams of desperation I felt within me when I knew I had to make a physical move away from my marriage and previous life. That was the smartest move of my life.

I hear the whispers. I don't want the whispers to turn into screams. When you don't make a change voluntarily, life will deal you a hand that is out of your control. I would rather control the change I want to see in my life. 

I want to listen to those whispers. Maybe I have to turn off the TV at night so I am forced to wake up and confront them.

I feel as though I am mismanaging my time but am I? Or is "life" trying to talk to me and I am numbing my thoughts with sleep, Netflix and food? My chip addiction at night has become all consuming and the highlight of my day.

I don't want to make any rash changes. I simply want to find a way to make this existing situation work. I need to either have suggestions or be open to them. I must be willing change what is within my control or accept things as they are. 

The Serenity Prayer instantly comes to mind: 

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

I feel as though I am mismanaging my time but am I? Or is "life" trying to talk to me and I am numbing my thoughts with sleep, Netflix and chips?

As I was ready to walk away from the computer, this post came to my attention:

Self-care is not selfish. It’s the most pro-active thing you can do. Why? We cannot nurture others from a dry well. If we practice preventative wellness and replenish our emotional reservoirs BEFORE they hit the empty line, then we can give even more to others from our surplus, from our natural state of strength and abundance. Shine brightly💡 ~ Project Happiness

I wrote this at 8:00 a.m.; I have returned to my morning thoughts twelve hours later. I will post this after it has plenty of time to marinate. Good night.

A Day of Rest

I worked hard yesterday. It was a day where one thing led to the next, the next and the next. All. Day. Long.

I found two of the things I thought were gone forever. I KNEW I wouldn't throw these items away but I was afraid they may have ended up in a giveaway box during my time of great culling. It felt like Christmas!! I was so delighted to find these lost-to-me items.

I must admit I am slightly concerned about reshuffling the contents of our entire main floor. How will I ever find anything again unless I am strategic and methodical? Thus, I put all office supplies into one multi-drawer storage container. Like things were all amassed together so they are all in one spot.

I hope I have en-grained these new spots in my head. Now that all like things are together, if I've lost one, I've lost them all.

I have a give away pile, a pile to go to the dump and one pile to donate. These piles are not as big as they should be. I didn't get into a sorting and culling mindset. I didn't have the mental energy to touch each item and decide whether said item brought me joy or not. I'll do that as these belongings make their way back upstairs again.

The state our home is in at the moment reminds me of when we cleaned out Mom's home. After our first weekend, everything looked the same. But the cupboards, closets, drawers and all storage areas were cleaned out. It still felt like Mom's home. This still feels like our home.

Life hasn't changed. Yet.

It's coming ... the unbecoming is a time and energy consuming task. The becoming will be the fun part. Too bad the "becoming" is so costly. I suppose this is good. It means there will be an end date. End dates are a good thing.

I Love My Life!

As I was making my bed around our cats this morning, I heard myself say aloud, "I love my life!"

What an incredible way to feel as the day began. I was simply appreciating our cats' personalities as they lazed on my bed as I straightened the covers around them. I think they appreciate our quiet little life here as well.

I have seen, felt and lived this week just a little differently. Being on the outside, looking in, one interprets life in a renewed light.

I have appreciated the decisions that have been easy to make. As we take one tentative step into our main floor renovation, it is the simplest of things that are pleasing me the most.

My "kitchen guy" is revamping our sturdy, older cupboards. I should be able to renovate the entire kitchen for a cost far less than replacing them.

He is going to replace the latches that don't work so we won't need to have childproof door locks to keep the cats out of our cupboards!

He is going to put a bottom shelf in the cupboard above the fridge! A previous owner cut out the shelf in order to make room for a fridge. Our cats have discovered this new and improved way of getting into the top shelves and Jet (our Bored Kitty) takes great pleasure in resting in the aforementioned shelf, so when you open the cupboard after he has spent some time there, the contents of the shelf fall out.

He is replacing the plug ins and light switches!

He is replacing our dim kitchen lights to ones so bright we will need a dimmer switch!

He does all the shopping and brings his "top two" to our home and asks me to choose a favorite!

He has an eye for what will look best and I trust his decisions implicitly.

He has spent ONE day in our kitchen. We came home last night and I was elated. Not one second thought. It was time. It was long overdue.

Oh, how I wish I could share this with Mom. She would share my joy. I just know she would!!

I have a good life here in my little corner of the world. I can feel myself changing along with the tides of this renovation project. The time is right. The time is now.

I love my life!

The Perfect Fit

The moment I walked into the kitchen this morning, I was greeted by the NEW sound of our new-to-us fridge. It doesn't "tick". It doesn't ooze "green stuff". Packing tape is not holding pieces together. It isn't scratched up (though it does have a small dent on the door). We have upgraded from "almond" to a new and improved "white" fridge. And it fits into the spot like Cinderella's shoe.

One of my catch phrases is "I hate change!!", so you can only imagine how excited I am to feel good about this change for the better within our home.

I am dreaming of the changes I hope to see happen within our home. Last year, I was lost and feeling a little restless. I loved the feeling of flying high over the landscape and was slightly intoxicated by the feeling of being in between destinations.

Last year, I was quite literally in between "then" and "now".

I wasn't ready to leap into my new world. It was there, ready, waiting and needing me. I did what I had to do to push myself through that year.

This year I feel ready.

I am ready to forge into the world that has been waiting for me all along. I have felt paralyzed. Not wanting to spend "Mom's money". No ambition to wade through all of Mom's papers, memories and history I thought was so important to save. Not ready to create a permanent home for Mom's books.

I didn't feel ready for anything beyond getting through the day. When that passed, I felt ready to "escape". Flying off into the sunset felt wonderful. The people, the destinations, the journey were exactly what I wanted and needed.

But this year? I'm loving the sound of the hum of our new fridge. I am eager to take the next step forward into recreating a renewed feeling of "home" within these walls which became synonymous with definition of "daycare". It is time to turn this house back into a home instead of a place of business.

It all started with a fridge which is the perfect fit. Today? A fridge. Tomorrow?? The world!!! (or at least maybe a new-to-me white stove to co-ordinate with our white fridge)

*Note how it fits snugly between the cupboard which had been previously cut out by a previous owner. The fridge fits but the decor must change (much too much "beige"). ONE thing at a time. Patience, young grasshopper. Patience!

A Fresh New Page

As much as I think the New Year is a non-event for me, I must admit it felt rather cathartic to file away 2018 and flip the brand new calendar into the year 2019.

I struggled through some of 2018. I went on a few "fly away" vacations. I stepped out of my solitude, I worked, I played and had some fun. 

I have stepped into My Next Chapter Without a Map. I have few guidelines to follow other than a loosely thrown together list of intentions for the months as they unfold:

#1 - Next year, I am going to book two weeks of holidays over Christmas. I am not quite ready to return to life as I know it. I am JUST starting to feel a renewal of energy and wish I had more days at my disposal to start acting upon that which is starting to stir within.

#2 - START the process of decluttering with my own belongings. Mom's room, Mom's memorabilia and all the sentimental stuff has been stopping me in my tracks. I can still begin. I will just start where it is easiest. With MY stuff.

#3 - Slow and steady wins the race. As I sit here after ten full days of simply breathing, eating and following the easiest path, I feel "a list" formulating in my mind. The list of "I should's" are daunting. There is so much to do that I don't have the energy to do a thing. One. Small. Step. At. A. Time. Add ONE new habit. Live it. Breathe it. Incorporate it into my day. Once it becomes second nature, add a second life affirming action into my day.

#4 - Buy better groceries. Having good-for-us and easy to assemble food in the kitchen is one habit I want to add into our life. This is easier said while not living my regularly scheduled life. I will do my best. I will try.

#5 - Write. Just write. Whether I write in a journal, send off a note or an email or blog. I want to return to a world where my heart to fingertip connection is reignited.

I write this list of things-to-do and already I feel like I am biting off more than I can chew. ONE small step at a time. 

I feel the angst of having to step back into my daily work world. This holiday has been just what I needed. A lot of quiet. No pressure. A life where I wake up, open the curtains and greet the day before me with a little bit of joy.

How can I do this while working? 

Perhaps I need to add ...

#6 - When I wake up in the morning, GET up. No turning on the TV. No lulling myself back to sleep with my Netflix addiction of the moment. WAKE up. GET up. CREATE the time I need by being wakeful during the early morning hours. Be PRESENT. Do not sleep through my down time. 

2019 will be a year where I strive to live each day with INTENTION. I may intend to have a relaxing day. I may intend to have a day focused on living outside this cozy little oasis. I may intend to accomplish ONE hard thing. I simply need to set my intentions before I put my feet on the ground. 

ONE hard thing at a time. ONE hour at a time. Perhaps that ONE hour could be devoted to my word puzzle addiction. Do some of the hard things. Add joy. Fulfill my own needs. Find a balance. Expect that balance to change. 

I feel like I walked through 2018 in my sleep. It was not an INTENTIONAL year. It simply unfolded. That is okay. It is what I needed.

But it is time for a change. ONE small step at a time.