The Bald Eagle

I am settling back into life-as-I-know-it after a short weekend excursion. I drove so far out of my comfort zone I felt like I was in a different country. 

I do not enjoy roads less travelled. I like my well worn, divided highway with familiar cities and towns along the way. I like arriving into a city where I know my way around. I favor staying at AirBnB's over most every option out there (including free accommodations at a family or friend's home). 

I like what I like and most of what I like is familiarity.

This past weekend was anything but familiar. I got into an argument with Google Maps because she kept trying to change the route I had specifically chosen while I was not driving. I think she heard me because when I attempted to reroute my destination to a gas station where I could cash in my airmiles, she circled me back to my son's house and he wasn't home.

Exasperated, I gave up and asked my son if we could take my car for supper so I could fill it up and wash the bugs off before they baked onto the windshield in the heat.

I went from arguing with Google Maps to high anxiety with someone else behind the wheel of my car. I was not off to a good start.

Then came the new Techno Toilet my son purchased after the isolation valve on his original toilet failed, causing a flood in his downstairs basement suite. Repairs and restoration from the flood were a test of endurance but he didn't tell me about his newest acquisition. A toilet that does pretty much everything but brush your teeth.

I cannot express my angst over using a toilet that beeps and chirps and has a mind of its own. It came with a remote control. Enough said.

We visited until the wee hours of the morning and the next day included a leisurely trip to the mountains, a few easy hikes and meeting up with my sister-in-law for supper. Okay! This is right up my alley.

Long story, short? The next day was nothing like I envisioned. 

I was a very nervous and agitated passenger on our trek into the mountains. Mountains are not a favored destination of mine but I can endure them. The twisty, curvy mountain roads to some of our destinations were exceeding my comfort and car sickness zone. My son's definition of an easy hike is quite different than mine. I could not savor the hiking experience due to my apprehension over losing my footing resulting in a trip and fall, wrecking the only pair of pants that fit me comfortably, let alone the thought of twisting an ankle and having to walk back as far as we had trekked in.

I'm quite sure I was wearing "all of the above" on the expression on my face. All we had to do was get back to where we began. That was the goal. 

My son offered many "rest stops" along the way. I really didn't need or want to rest. I simply wanted to get back home. I was not savoring the views along the way. I was watching where my feet were stepping to avoid any trip and falls (saving the knees of my pants was my priority).

Oh, the self talk I had going on in my head. I should be embarrassed. Instead, I was just getting on a roll and it got worse before it got better. 

It was at one of these stopping points when a bald eagle flew right up to us and over our heads in a blatant "Look up and see me!!" kind of way. Even my son, who is no stranger to mountains and all he finds awe inspiring about them, was in awe. 

It was a moment to behold. 

We were on our mother-son-trek on the 8th anniversary of Mom's last day here on earth. This is not a day Mom would want to focus on but it just so happened our weekend together landed on this date in history.

The song "An Eagle When She Flies" had special meaning to Mom. We played it at her graveside. The song described the person Mom was. We have placed a connection between Mom and eagles. We spread some of Mom's ashes at Mom & Dad's old farm. The family who were last to leave, spotted two eagles soaring above the farm as a memory filled day wound to a close. 

I have never seen an eagle. Even when I went on an Alaskan cruise and bald eagles were pointed out to us in the trees. "They look like little golf balls..." I couldn't find them hidden in the scene.

But this bald eagle was blatant and obvious. It flew up and over us in a manner that said, "Look at me! I am here!"

Mom? If she had any way to say "Look up and out of your thoughts" to me, she would have.

My son was giving me a gift of a lifetime. Taking me, showing me, experiencing the wonders of  his world. And I couldn't see beyond the negative thought spiral I was in.

I have been home two days now and I can finally appreciate the weekend. I can hear Mom's voice in my head admonishing me for not seeing the experience for what it was while I was living it. 

I hear you, Mom. 

I also hear her say she is in full agreement about the driving though ...

Summer Solstice Hiatus

I'm not certain what happened but I fell out of the habit of my early morning blogging habit over the weekend. I'll blame the longest day.

The day was so long, when I woke up and saw the time 9:35 and full-on daylight outside, I was rattled. I not only slept through the night but I slept through the morning too!! What the heck?

P.S. the dusty night table and dirty clock have been tended.

It took a few minutes to realize it was 9:35 p.m. I had fallen into a deep REM sleep and awoke to utter confusion. The longest day snuck up on me.

When morning finally did arrive, it was a dreary, cloudy, rain warnings galore kind of day. Ahhh. A perfect snuggle up on the couch and waste the day away kind of day. I had few deep thoughts utter than deep appreciation for my new windows:

 

They work! They really work!! I gazed out my new, rain-proof windows and appreciated the secure, dry feeling while the lawn got a good watering. Ahhh. A dreary day is the perfect excuse to let the day slip through my fingers.

I finally awoke to this morning. The birds and furry critters of the neighborhood popped into my back yard to play.

This little squirrel frolicked by the trees, climbed the tree, played in the branches for a while, came back down to the ground and up again before he scampered off behind the garage.

He was joined by grackles (of course), a mourning dove or two and my friendly neighborhood robins. Ahhh. I love when Mother Nature's little wonders grab my attention. I lost yet another morning.

After some relatively productive days off, I lost a weekend. I made the mistake of tuning into the news yesterday afternoon and this morning. World events are sobering and I find it hard to make light of my safe, insulated little life this morning.

I am grateful for this specific moment in time. I dearly hope I can remain focused on my Disney Wonderland of furry and feathered critters outside my patio doors. The best television on earth. Just watching Mother Nature at play.

Mental Gymnastics

Yesterday, my wondering mind led me down a digital rabbit hole within this blog to find an answer. Today's unanswered question provided some exercise for my brain.

My thoughts began with considering this digital age we live in. We can replay the history of a conversation by scrolling through old text messages. Much more efficient than trying to find an old letter, card or paper document. Emails provide the same back-up. Easily stored, filed and the search function makes retrieval relatively simple.

I have a Rubbermaid container and two baskets within my Daybed Room I need to sort through, decide what is worth keeping and find logical spots to store what I decide to keep. So much paper. Yet there is history within that I don't want to lose.

My daughter suggested scanning and saving digital copies of what I want to keep. Sounds like a very good idea. It also sounds like a lot of work.

Then I started wondering about things like "When did I get a cell phone?", which prompted the memory of when my oldest sister and husband got their cell phone. If I remember correctly, they were the first ones within our immediate family to get one. I must have thought cells were for young people and probably a passing fad. I was somewhat amused that my sister and husband were the first to join this passing phase.

"What year was that?" 

Well, there was a family reunion. A family reunion when we had a new-to-us-dog, who got involved in a water fight (the dog was not the hero - as he bit my brother-in-law, while trying to protect my nephew's wife from the water war), where I think said cell phone ended up falling into some water.

I backtracked all memories related to this reunion, trying to pin down the year. Snippets of memories, who was a baby, timelines, where everyone camped/stayed ... as many details as I could muster and I was still coming up blank.

Eventually, I came up with the year 2001. I might be right. I might be wrong. I welcome corrections and clarifications from my siblings. If I was desperate to know the answer, I could rifle through my old letters to Mom and find the answer. 

The moral to my story is I came up with a satisfactory answer to my question, simply by rewinding the memories I hold within my head. I think of Mom every time I challenge myself to remember without falling back on the Internet or a digital form of the memory. Mental gymnastics may not be the answer to brain health, but it can't hurt.

Barettes in the Candy Aisle

As I waited my turn at the grocery check out yesterday, I scanned the chocolate bars and candy at the till. Back in the day, there were bins that had sale prices of 2 for $1.00 (or am I imagining that??). 

Prices have skyrocketed so I am no longer tempted by current day sale prices. I am almost immune to even looking. But I check it out regardless.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear??

Barettes!! 

I don't have a barette in the house and my hair is driving me crazy when I'm working outside or cooking. In the house, at least my hands are clean and I have access to elastic bands to concoct some way of keeping hair out of my eyes and food. When I'm outside, the wind takes hold and whips my hair into my face, my hands are usually filthy so I turn my head into the wind, like a dog sticking its head out of the window of a moving car to clear my vision.

Every time this happens, I think to myself, "Get some barettes!". This involves getting cleaned up and stepping out of the house again. Once I'm in the house, I'm IN for good. If it's hot outside, the last thing I am going to do is walk to the store in the heat and work up a fresh coat of sweat in order to buy some barettes. The next day, all is forgotten. Until the next time I'm outside and I think to myself,  "Get some barettes!!"

I ran to the grocery store after work last night and the last thing on my mind was picking up barettes. I was out of milk, strawberries were on sale and I was craving Fresca. Priorities!! My hair would be blowing in my face on my walk home but that was the last thing on my mind.

I was perusing the chocolate bar and candy selection at the till, when I spotted the barettes. Bonanza!! I didn't know the price and didn't care. They were exactly what I would have chosen, if I was in an aisle containing a barette selection.

You know the world is looking out for you when you find barettes in the candy aisle. If, of course, you have been in the market for barettes for a while...

Nature Calls

When a day begins with a mourning dove resting atop the roof outside one's bedroom window,

it feels like it is the beginning of a pretty good day.

Then when one takes a few steps outside their room and spots a deer in the yard,

one's hopes get a little higher.

 

I sat down to write my morning pages and spotted the robin I had hoped to capture yesterday morning:

I simply sat still and listened to the birds...

it sounded like a robin was in a tree right outside the window:

When I packed up my book of morning pages and turned to leave the room,

a robin was sitting on the rooftop right beside the window.

I greeted the day with a mourning dove outside my bedroom window,

my day officially began when I left my writing spot and a robin was outside that window.

With a side order of a deer in the yard and birds singing their songs.

Nature is calling this morning.

I am listening.

Rain

I fell asleep to the sound of (what I believe was) a nest of baby grackles in the tree outside my bedroom window. I woke up to the sound of rain. 

Rain. Music to my ears. I quietly wished for and envisioned a long, soaking rain on the wildfires. Please let the wind blow these rain clouds where they are needed the most.

I wrote my morning pages while looking out the window and listening to the rain. Next to the sound of a purring cat, there is nothing quite like listening to rain to lower one's feelings of angst. 

The rain slowed, then eventually stopped. Two birds hopped on the fence within my view. They simply sat there and enjoyed the view. They had the body language of mourning doves. 

In my limited experience, grackles swoop, dive and don't light in one spot for long. 

Robins walk around a lot. I love watching robins running around. They are always on the move. The robins who hang around here seem to spend a lot of time walking and their flights seem short. 

Mourning doves seem to spend a lot of time in one spot, watchful of what's around them but rather sedative in their movements compared to their counterparts who frequent my yard. 

One morning I was taking out the compost and the presence of two mourning doves just on the other side of the fence, a few feet from where I stood, captured my interest. Opening and shutting the lid of the compost didn't deter them. They stayed on their side of the fence, I stayed on mine. I'm sure they were aware of my presence but they lingered, even when I moved around a bit. I would have loved to have found a spiritual story to explain their presence but I decided it was more likely I was close to a nest and they were on guard for any danger.

This morning, a mourning dove caught my attention as it hung out near a puddle left by the rain. 

I watched it for a while (mourning doves can be pretty boring as they really don't do much) and eventually it flew onto the fence. I followed the movement and found a flurry of activity going on:

I don't profess to know a lot about birds, but it is my guess there could be another nest of mourning dove babies in the near future.

Just some quiet, morning thoughts to start the day. May you find a piece of serenity within your day today.

Dad

The gift of living near and visiting a sibling regularly is sharing the same core memories. It is common for us to find a thread of Mom woven throughout our conversations. We have a lot of "Mom" in us, she lived for 89 years and though it has been close to eight years since she died, thoughts and memories still feel fresh.

Dad, on the other hand, was young when we last had the dad we knew. His massive heart attack, days before his 58th birthday, was the end of Dad living his life. We had fewer years to collect Dad memories and it has been 42 years since that fateful day. 

So when a "Dad memory" arises, it touches a part of me that hasn't been touched for a while. It feels rather special.

When my son built a shed for me and I commented I couldn't wait to roll my tires into their seasonal storage spot and not have to stack them, it stopped him in his tracks for a minute. He quickly commented he'd build something for tire storage, since the walls of the aluminum shed wouldn't withstand the weight. He came up with this:

It was made completely out of leftover wood that was lying around. It cost nothing but his time. It was a very "Dad" thing of him to do. When I showed this shelving unit to my sister, she immediately commented, "This is Dad. This is something Dad would make." Yes. Yes, it was.

Cool little memory to store inside the shed along with the tires and other miscellanea.

Yesterday, I was commenting on my ability to hang a picture. Except when I looked at the back of the picture I wanted to hang, it was missing the picture wire. Two loops to string it into, but no wire. When I mentioned this to my sister, she perked up and said she had some.

She ran downstairs and came up with her picture wire storage container:

"Dad!" I exclaimed. That is Dad's, right? Yes. Yes it was. 

Dad used tobacco tins to store nuts, bolts, screws and many numbers of things in the garage. Seeing that tobacco tin was an immediate callback to my memory of Dad. No, rolling cigarettes is quite possibly the last thing he may want to be remembered by, but the tins. The resourcefulness of not letting anything go to waste. "That" was Dad.

I wistfully asked my sister if she minded leaving that tin to me in her will. Just a little thing. I loved the way I felt when suddenly I felt the memory of Dad wash through me. She said she could do one better. She ran downstairs and found its twin. Now we each have a little memory of Dad in our storage collections.

Dad. I love being reminded of you. Your essence. Your work ethic. Who you were. I love when a brand new, never-been-recently-recalled memory flashes through my mind. Most of all, I cherish having a sibling who shares that exact same memory of who you were and the ways which we still see you in your children and grandchildren.

It Takes Two Hands to Clap

I remember Mom commenting on the excellent experience she had while in an emergency room during a brief hospital stay. It was a time when many were commenting on the negative experiences at hospitals so Mom was very appreciative of the care she received. She expressed her gratitude to one of her nurses and the nurse simply responded, "It takes two hands to clap". 

A memorable moment, a memorable quote. Mom recalled the moment and I have thought of this quote numerous times since hearing Mom's experience. 

It is a quote which reciprocates the compliment. While Mom had a very good experience on her end and expressed appreciation, the nurse was also a benefactor of Mom being Mom and simply being a patient who made the nurse's experience positive as well.

I was fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of the simple comment, "Thank you for being so nice" while I was simply doing my job at work yesterday. I sat up a little taller, smiled and quoted Mom's quote (and cited Mom and Mom's nurse as the source of such wise words). "It takes two hands to clap."

Thank you for being so nice to me as well. 👏👏

Nature's Alarm Clock (and snooze buttons)

Ever since I moved back into my bedroom, with its new window (and screen!), I have been sleeping with my window open. Oh, how I have missed the fresh air and sounds of nature.

Deep in the middle of one night, I thought I heard the sound of something wild howling off in the distance. It didn't sound like a domesticated dog. It sounded wild. It didn't last for long and it was in the middle of the night so I may have dreamed it. But we do have coyotes in our neck of the woods. It may have been coyotes.

As the morning progressed, the robins were out in full force. Man! They are vocal. If they were dogs, the neighbors would be complaining. But they are robins and they are simply singing their songs and the lines of communication are open. I love waking up to the robin's songs.

Next, came the mourning doves. Off in the distance, their mournful cries are beautiful yet sad when one compares them to the joyful robins. 

I stayed in bed a little longer and in chimed the grackles. Their name describes their voices. A rather grating sound. It signifies a very good time to get out of bed and start the day.

Nature's alarm clock: 

Robins sing, "Rise and shine!! The day awaits!!" 

The mourning doves coo, "I know it's hard. But do get up and face the day." 

Then the grackles come and say, "Get up and get out of bed. I'll keep grackling at you until you do!"

Rise and shine! The day awaits!!

A Little of Everything

The past weekend was my idea of perfection. A little dash of this, that and everything created the exact combination of what I needed/wanted to accomplish, seasoned with a touch of family which was the finishing touch.

One-on-one visits with my adult children is one of my most favorite things. "This" is the reward of having parented one's children to independence. The enjoyment of their company on a new plateau.

I listen to those who dread the idea of becoming an empty nester. I worked hard to gain this title. I plan to savor the rewards of enjoying the company of my self-sufficient in-dependents.

One of the things I appreciated the most, is two out of three filed their own tax returns!! 

I must admit, if I hadn't helped my third file their taxes, I wouldn't have had the excuse to talk with them. We just need to enhance those visits by eliminating the tax-factor.

It isn't the way most families celebrate the Easter weekend, but I'll take it.

When People Know Your Name

It's like going to "Cheers", the bar where everyone knows your name. Well, not quite. It's not a bar - it's work. It's not everyone - it's a few. But still, it feels warm and comfortable. A little of the feeling of coming home again.

The conversation started simple, "Where are you from?" Instead of going into the details of moving from the farm to the big city and moving a few more times to get here, I simply responded, "Well? My story began close to [hometown]". That hometown is a 15 minute drive from here so that is a good enough response.

I didn't realize I was talking to someone who was on my old school bus route. "What's your name?" I gave them my surname. "Which one?" Dad had six brothers so the surname provided enough, but not all of the information. I told them Dad's name, they looked at me and said, "You must be Colleen".

 Wow. Blow me over with a feather. 

I'm one of the youngest in our family of four. We moved from the farm to a new province when I was nine years old. My older siblings grew up, went to school, married local and remain connected with the community. People know who they are. I'm one of the forgotten ones. Not yesterday.

That feeling of "coming home again" is renewed on a pretty regular basis here. Coming home again has never felt so good.

Grounded

I have spent the weekend at my home of 36 years. And it has been good. The weekend has been full of everything I didn't know I needed. And more. So much more.

It pays to know yourself well enough to ask for what you need. When I moved to my little oasis home-away-from-home and kept my original home to rent to my daughter and her spouse, part of the deal was for me to have "a room of my own" here. A room that was not a spare room for company. A room that was just mine. 

I assumed I may be on call to house and cat sit when they went away and I was not wrong. Thanks to the ailments of our Senior Cats, they are on a schedule to maintain medication and feeding times. I am actually needed here, in a way I am not necessary in my new home. It isn't foreign to me. Cats - aloof, but appreciative of their human counterparts. We get along well that way.

My bedroom suite here is everything I need and want. Not only a bed, with a closet to hold enough of my items for me to stay a night if weather or car conditions warranted it, but also a couch, desk, small table and chairs, plus a TV. A bathroom right outside my door. A fridge in the laundry room just a few more steps. A mini-suite to call my own. Home away from home.

I have been bouncing in and out and around the house all weekend. I had a list of errands longer than I may have wished for, but they were necessary. I'm grateful I didn't have to squeeze everything into a quick day trip into the city. Everything has been crossed off the list, except for that which I added as an afterthought.

I have had the time, energy and desire to see people while I've been here. People I haven't seen for the better part of a year or more. People who, at one time, were an integral part of my life and were part of the fabric of my life here. People I worked for and worked with.

The income tax burden has been weighing heavy on my shoulders. Taxes and obligations for people I know through my former employer. 

My previous employer passed away only a few months after I quit my bookkeeping job. I have been carrying a small amount of guilt and angst over the fact that I jumped ship on them. I didn't leave them high and dry. Everything was left the way I would appreciate if I was the person who would step into the role. I gave a year's notice. Nothing was sudden or unexpected. I did all I could do. But we didn't have a formal "good-bye" at the end and I didn't quite know what to do with that.

When one doesn't know all the facts, one makes up stories in their mind. Even in my most gracious stories, I was the villain. I abandoned them. Then she died.

I reached out in small ways. I did and said everything I knew to be right and comforting. I did all I could do. I had to let it go.

When a very good friend of my previous employer asked if I would do her taxes, I had to stop and think long and hard about it. In the end, due to the loyalty, friendship and past with my previous employer, I said yes. It was the right thing to do. It was hard to say yes. But it was right. Then the weight on my shoulders got a little heavier.

The moment I met up with this person, I knew I had said yes for all the right reasons. I told her, "I don't miss the job but I miss the people. I worked with very good people." And our visit was off and running.

We had a most excellent visit and I felt my previous employer nod with approval. "You did good, girl. You did good."

I then contacted my employer's son. In my bookkeeping role, I worked very closely with him, as it was his business' books I was tending. As his mom's health deteriorated, we had so very many conversations that were not about business. We became very good friends.

Long story short, none of the stories I made up in my head were true. All was well. He simply didn't want to call to ask me for help (pertaining to the bookkeeping end of things). He didn't call, out of respect for my decision to move on.

The night prior to this, I awoke in the middle of the night, with visions of T2's, T1's and GST returns dancing through my head. The person I still do books for, is someone I met through my former employer. As I struggled with the job of winding up the year and preparing for the tax season, I quietly whispered my employer's name and said I needed her help.

I walked away from it all after this desperate plea. When I walked back, it was better. Not a lot. But a little. Bit by bit, I started finding solutions to my problems. I balanced this to that and to the other thing. All the numbers made sense. I had one final question and had an idea. I slept on it, called the taxation department at 5:50 a.m. (7:50 a.m., where their offices are located) and a recorded message told me I could expect a 1-1/2 hour wait. "I have time", I thought to myself and proceeded to count down the next 90 minutes of my life ...

Then, I knew. I was right about this. I didn't need to confirm it. I could move on. And I did.

I wound up everything taxation-related with this business the night before I arrived at my little weekend oasis. I had planned to meet up with the business owner and present her with my final numbers, to get her okay before proceeding. Then I woke up in the middle of that night and thought, since I had all returns complete and final numbers ready to present, just print them all up to PDF files and email them. This was better than presenting her with a bunch of paperwork. She could print off the files, review them in her own time and once okay'd by her, all would be ready to go. 

I told my previous employer's friend this little story the next morning. I NEVER, ever wake up in the middle of the night and work at the books. Never. But my previous employer did this regularly. I wonder ... did I wake up and finish up this job by myself? Or was the energy of my previous employer spurring me into action? I said, "I think I had a visit from E last night..." Her friend nodded knowingly and completely agreed with me.

I was one day into my three day weekend and I had visited everyone from my previous work life that mattered. And it was good. It only got better once I started calling my cousins.

I have stepped back into my comfort zone here in my previous home. I'm glad my previous self knew what to ask for, to make life better for my future self. A grounding spot here within the home of my daughter and her spouse. 

I am home. I am grounded. I am healing a part of my past self that had been hurting a little. And it is good.

Maybe I don't need that grounding sheet, after all ...

Tracking

I'm finding my reason behind the tendency to have an online shopping addiction - the ability to track your parcel online. I find this as interesting as watching the plane-tracker apps when someone you know is flying home. I love knowing where things are at. In all senses of the word.

I appreciate being told what number I am in a queue when on hold for an extended period of time.

I would love a "progress bar" showing the % complete in all aspects of life - not just when downloading a computer program. 

It gives one the illusion of having some control in an unpredicable world. 

I found a few different places online to order my favorite-top-in-my-world. I went crazy on the weekend and ordered six different colors from two different sellers. They are on their way:

My perfect world would consist of a closet full of identical clothes, with a hair style I like being frozen in time, like that of a cartoon character, with a progress bar showing where I am in the timeline of my life.

I like knowing where things are at, I like the feeling of wearing comfortable, crisp new clothes, I love responding "Same, same and same" when someone is updating my customer information. 

Little things. I like when life-as-I-know-it feels like a well worn rut that is comfortable and known. Even better? I love knowing my favorite tops will arrive by April 1st!! I have places to be and people to see on April 4th. You can bet your last dollar I will be showing up in my cartoon character's attire. Same, same, same.

Now ... if only I could find that cartoon character's hair stylist.

One Small Positive Thought

It all started with my wish for a small shelf by the back door, so if I had two cups of coffee in my hands, I didn't have to put one cup on the floor in order to open the door.

My wish came true. Then cool weather moved in and the purpose for this handy little shelf evolved into a place to set my keys. Unfortunately, the keys left black marks on the paint which were next to impossible to scrub off. I finally found a purpose for a cup of Mom's I had claimed and put aside for reasons unknown. 

I found the reason:

I really liked this splash of color in my grey-dominant home. This cup catipulted me into many hours of interweb searches for decorating touches and pictures with a splash of yellow. 

Yellow is a color that sparks joy within me. Simply searching for a splash of yellow calmed my soul and shifted my focus to "yellow" thoughts.

My wish list ebbed and flowed. I decorated my "Daybed Room" during this time. My daybed room was inspired by something completely different. More on that another day ...

I couldn't take the plunge and purchase a large picture off the internet but I did find this one. Terribly overpriced but it sparked joy and I couldn't let it go when suddenly the words "Short Supply" flashed before my eyes.

I took the plunge and invested on another splash of yellow:

I love this small picture. I love the message. That's it. That's all I have today.

May your day have a splash of yellow woven into the fabric of life-as-you-know-it.

May one small positive thought change your perception of your day.

Feeling the Joy

I have felt a spark of joy within me on a regular basis lately. I felt the sensation so deep this morning, I knew I had to put it down in words so I could re-read them some day in the future.

I am eight days away from the end-date of my work-from-home-bookkeeping position I have held for four years and three months. Taking on the full time role of working from home was a little heavier than expected. I can feel my clothes becoming a little looser as the extra weight of responsibility is being lifted from my shoulders.

Oh! What a feeling!!

I have a heavy list of things-to-do-before-I'm-done but I'm energized by this. I work best under pressure. And the pressure is on. It is so close, I can taste it!

Things in my new life have been falling into place ever-so-nicely. It has a feeling like it was truly meant to be. I haven't been fighting the current as I made progress along the way. I feel like I am walking with the current of a gently flowing creek.

It hasn't always felt this way but now that I can see the end, it is good. It is right. I am so grateful I didn't give up on my dream, even though giving up was most certainly where I was at six months ago.

Little things that bring me joy are so close to the surface.

Last week, I walked into my favorite bargain store and bought absolutely nothing but chocolate bars. These chocolate bars are the only thing I am aware of, that hasn't gone up with the cost of inflation in a time where prices of some of my favorite things (Pringles, for example) have doubled. 

Budgeting used to be the best diet I could go on. Inflation has replaced budgeting in food control. I simply will not pay the new prices on some of my prior delights. 

But these chocolate bars? I was not constrained by embarrassment, humility or caring for a moment what anyone thought about what was in my shopping basket.

The clerk ran them through and I just smiled from the depths of my soul and said, "These chocolate bars simply bring me so much joy!" He smiled from a place deeper than the cashier's obligatory "have a nice day" platitude. I think my confession brought a speck of joy into that moment.

I came home and could barely contain myself. Guess what this little basket full of joy cost! $7.77 (INCLUDING taxes):

I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt I was banned from buying so many chocolate bars from this store. I'd better find different stores to shop at - I don't want anything to take away the cheapest form of joy one can buy any time soon.

May you find a small piece of joy within your day. If you can, declare this joyful find out loud and share it. I do believe joy is contagious. Spread it around.

Hidden Blessings

Life threw us a few curve balls this past week ...

Our Senior Cat in Residence took a sharp turn for the worse one day. The vet cured his sneezing and excessive mucous condition, but almost immediately after he completed his dose of antibiotics things started to change.

I thought it was an side effect of the medication. I assumed once the antibiotics were out of his system he would be back to his regular self. I was wrong.

Litter conditions changed, there was another somewhat steep decline in food consumption. In the past, when one cat lost some weight, the second cat gained it. Total cat weight stayed the same. Food consumption remained static. This was not the case.

When the cat food started to last much longer than usual several months ago, my thoughts immediately went to the cost savings. Instead of going through one bag every four weeks, it was lasting five weeks. When my daughter commented on the recent decline in cat food consumed, along with our Senior Cat losing more weight, it raised alarm bells.

Then one day (it seemed suddenly, but in actuality it had been happening gradually for quite some time), Senior was laying down in odd spots throughout the day. The bathroom tiled floor, the bathtub and en route to wherever he was going. By nightfall, I noticed his walking was severely compromised. He was wobbling and could barely stand, let alone walk. My daughter had observed the same and we convened in the hallway where he stalled. 

This was serious. It felt like it happened overnight (it didn't). I honestly wondered if he would make it through the night. My daughter slept with one eye and two ears open all night (she didn't sleep). He made it.

In unrelated events (but I promise to tie the two subjects together) ...

The next morning, our internet went out. Just as I was thinking how fortunate we were that the city was grading our back alley, POOF! Our services were cut (literally - the grader dug up our internet cable which had not been buried). After a phone call to our service provider and some troubleshooting, we were put on a two day wait list for a service call.

The perfect storm ended up being a blessing in disguise.

No internet = more family time + a sick cat = lots of desire to talk it through.

Long story short, we took our cat to the vet and her suspicion is our cat's kidneys aren't functioning properly. Blood tests will confirm or deny, but the cure's starting cost is medication at the cost of approximately $130 per month PLUS a new diet of special renal cat food. She did give our cat one pill which stimulated his appetite and the increase of nutrients definitely smoothed things out the past few days. But it isn't a cure. We firmly believe our cat is in his end days.

Our missing internet connection provided the best conditions we could wish for, as my ability to work was hampered and my daughter's desire to be on the computer was thwarted.

We talked, we reminisced, we simply sat with each other's company while enjoying moments with our ailing kitty.

It was the worst of times, but we managed to turn them into the best moments one could hope for under the circumstances. There can be small blessings buried deeply within some of the hardest of times. 

Ray's favorite resting spot has been on the register of the bathroom for quite a spell now.
I added the comfort of the softest hand towel we have and he seems to appreciate my effort.

**Update - a recent check-in brought encouraging news. Ray seems to be doing well and appears to be walking normally. His blood tests are still pending. My hope is perhaps a change of "gold-nugget" cat food (Ray has been on an expensive special gastro-intestinal diet since shortly after we adopted him) may ease us through this next phase. Who knows? We can hope for the best...**

After the Storm - 2 Weeks later

Written a week ago (and abandoned) ...

A week after the storm has passed, it is looking a lot like Christmas around here. Christmas - with longer daylight hours, a warmer sun and spring not too far away.

We were fortunate my son dug us out with his skid steer. He made short work of what would have been more hours and muscle power than I can imagine. It was much of an issue as to where to put the snow, but the man-hours required to take on the job would have been monumental.

The resulting snow pile in the front yard brought back warm memories of my daycaring days, when one of my dads (whose winter work included snow clearing and removal) dumped a load of snow for the kid's entertainment. Making the most out of winter includes snow forts, snow hills, snow-people, frolicking in snow piles and simply enjoying the gifts of nature.

Rabbit tracks in the snow bring a smile to my heart every time ...

Two weeks later ...

I abandoned this post in lieu of living life quietly and letting Mother Nature deal with the excess snow.

I smiled when I spotted rabbit tracks on the mountain of snow in our front yard and was absolutely delighted when this happened:

 

Did you spot it? The rabbit hiding in plain sight??

Ahh ... the joys of rabbit-spotting. There is really nothing quite like it.

This winter station break was so much more enjoyable knowing it will all soon be gone.

But I'm glad for the moments it brought to us, right in our own front yard.

A Little Moment of Awesome

I woke up before 4:30 this morning and stayed awake. These bonus hours are a gift to myself today.

It snowed yesterday. The first substantial snowfall of the year. And it was good.

I put in a solid day of bookkeeping work and though my brain was done thinking at the day's end, it was truly refreshing to go outside and shovel. It was the right amount of cold. Not too cold, not too warm ... it was the "Goldilocks Zone" of being just right.

Last year I didn't bother bringing out anything pertaining to Christmas. I wasn't all bah-humbug about it. I simply didn't see the point. No company was expected, nor did the idea of changing the scenery to reflect the season bring me joy. So I didn't decorate. The end.

This year, I invited friends over at a pre-seasonally-appropriate time. It wasn't too early to decorate and I had the incentive required for me to take on the task. 

I felt joyful and light as I brought out my box of memories. I was delighted while adorning my corner shelf with stories of Christmases past and pleased with the result.

It is January 6th and I am still enjoying the white light, memories and peaceful easy feeling my little Christmas corner brings to me. The decorations consist mainly of angels, snowmen, pine accents, sleighs and pinecones. I am now officially dubbing it my "Winter Wonderland" corner.

I feel serenity within me this morning. I'm just going to coast a little while on this feeling. 

Life is fleeting. 

Please savor those little moments when you find them.

P.S. There were rabbit tracks in the snow. Oh, how I have missed my rabbit friends. They can come out of hiding now, as their winter white coats will finally blend into the scenery so they can hide in plain sight again.

Little things...

Hi Mom

I had the privilege of a good night's sleep and with it came a bounty of dreams.

You know how convoluted those dream story lines go. I was all over the map. Literally. 

Driving just outside of the city with a friend who died last year. She just needed a friend and all we did was drive. We then ran into the road that has been closed all year and a battalion of army vehicles drove down the road. We detoured and ventured further out of the city.

The next thing I remember we were driving down country roads that petered out into nothing but a walkable path but we saw cars driving off in the distance so we kept driving/walking (??). 

Eventually we ended up in the south/westernmost part of the city. By this time we were walking but I was also walking a bike. When some scary characters crossed our path, I told them to just take the bike to barter for our safety.

We came upon another sketchy group of characters and by this time I was walking with a friend I haven't seen in five years. Details are fuzzy here but I was aware we had a very long way to walk and in a very lucid moment, I said "We know this is a dream. Let's just dream up a car." And we did.

Just as simple as that, a white Mercury Mystique drove up and we quickly hopped in. Who was in their prime and driving the car? Mom. She looked at me and asked if I would drive (Mom wasn't a big fan of driving and was very often a passenger in her own car). I hopped out of the car ...

... and POOF! I was awake. And ready to drive for Mom. She looked so good! We didn't even get a chance to talk. 

It was still good to see her.

It is also a small comfort to see her car parked safely on our driveway.

Thanks, Mom!

The Power of Puttering

I have had the happy pleasure of preparing for guests two weekends in a row. While this sets off a domino effect of panic transformed into productivity, the results are worth it in the end.

Cleaning is always top-of-mind and living with cats makes cleaning an endless and futile job. Vacuuming is the second last thing that gets done, followed by a shower and taming my hair. Once I get my hair washed, my company is usually due within the next hour or two.

But I digress. The reason for this post is due to a morning when I started to putter before I poured my second cup of coffee.

I thought I would bring out my Christmas decorations and bring a little light and joy into the room. I turned on some music and the rest is history ...

Dusting off the unused and neglected decorations brought old memories back to life in a magical way. Everything I touched had been gifted to me over the years. Old friendships, my daycaring days, my family, my dancing years, a handmade decoration from an old family friend which was given to Mom, a gift from my Secret Santa one year ... I thought of each person and the circumstances around receiving each gift as I placed them on my cat-proof "Christmas shelf":

The corner shelf, itself was Mom's. Mom was with me all day as I adorned her shelf the way most people decorate a tree. I served supper on her plates; we drank apple cider out of her crystal wine glasses; we had tea from her china tea cups; we sat in "her room" with our tea, after supper. 

At every turn throughout the day, I heard Mom's voice, felt her spirit and honored my memories of her as they washed through me.

Memories. We are so very fortunate when reminiscing brings about a feeling of peace. The ability to recall and remember is sometimes a privilege we don't have the ability to hold onto forever.

So why? Tell me why?? Why am I tamping down the good stuff? Why am I filling every void within my days and nights with streaming TV shows, podcasts and other people's words? 

It felt SO good to putter around the house with music playing in the background. Light and easy music which left lots of room in my head to think my own thoughts and remember as I touched my life up close and in a personal way.

I have cleaned enough to see beyond the surface dirt and cat hair to discover there is SO much more to be cleaned! I have emptied off enough surfaces to realize I am holding onto things that really don't matter. 

I have come a small way but there is so much further to go.

So why? Tell me why?? Did I wake up the next day and turn on the TV and lose yet another day after tending to only a few small tasks I had left over from the previous day? Why was it so tempting to turn on a podcast and play a mind-numbing word wipe game in the background instead of stopping here to spill some of my thoughts into the written word?

I must remember the Power of Puttering. The magic of music. 

May you find a little piece of yourself today. Tuning into music, turning off social media and scrolling, tend to one small pile that has been accumulating and allow yourself the freedom to putter. Listen to your thoughts, move your body, search for the little piece of serenity within that has been evading you lately.

That sounds bossy. You do "you". We all must do what we need to, to take the next forward step. But when you DO find a little piece of yourself somewhere along the way, stop and nurture the moment and if you can prolong it, try. Just try.