After the Clock Strikes Twelve

After a Cinderella kind of day and an ideal weekend at "The Oasis" at my little home away from home, I hear the clock striking twelve. The spell is running out of magic. Soon I will have to race back home to resume life as I know it.

Friday was the culmination of two weeks of intentional living. Prior to those two weeks, I wrote down a list of what I missed about my daycaring days. Routine, being outdoors, a state of perpetual motion, a menu of relatively balanced meals, quiet time and looking at the world through the eyes of a child are just a few that pop to mind. Then there are the "heaven on earth" moments as I watched children contentedly playing amongst themselves with no awareness of my presence.

Taking in the wonders of the world around me still brings back a sense of awe within my regularly scheduled life. My newly developed habit of going for a morning walk has reawakened a part of myself I have missed. 

After walking with the rabbits first thing in the morning, coming upon an industrious little ant on my way out the door, spotting a family of geese on my way to my boss' home (they were still in the same spot when I drove home) and some yellow-headed blackbirds perched atop the cattails in the slough beside the geese I felt intoxicated with wonder and let myself feel the ahh-someness of each and every moment.

I arrived at my little oasis on the prairie which is surrounded by trees and birds that night. I was still in a Disney Princess mode when I woke up the next morning. I puttered through the morning under the spell that had been cast upon me when I noticed one of Mother Nature's creatures perched atop my car outside, peeking in the window watching ME:

 

There are a lot of mourning doves in the area and I wistfully hoped it was a mourning dove peeking in on me because it seemed there could be an other worldly significance to that idea. My son brought me down to earth with a crash when he asked if it may have been a prairie chicken which according to Google images is more likely.

What kind of bird it was doesn't really matter. The idea of Mother Nature's creatures watching me watch them held more significance. The rabbits I followed were well aware of my presence as they watched my every move. The Canada geese on the side of the rode froze in their tracks the moment I stopped the car to take a picture. 

I love waking up in this forested little oasis on the prairie. Robins are my alarm clock; Canada geese have joined in with the robins on occasion; mourning doves are the snooze button; followed up by the sounds of grackles if I stay in bed too long.

Yes, I feel like a Disney Princess. I feel like I'm living a scene right out of Cinderella.

The clock is striking twelve as I type and I feel these heaven-on-earth moments slipping through my fingertips as I type. Back to the real word of work and deadlines is looming. 

By holding onto the wonder filled moments as I walk back into life as I know it, maybe I can remain grounded as I face the workload of the days ahead. I'll hold onto the one remaining glass slipper to remind me the sense of "ahhh" is still within me. I just have to keep living with intention and remind myself to stop, look and listen to the world outside my doors. 

Welcome to Monday. The day when many of us must step back into our regular work schedule after a period of rejuvenation. May you seek for and find small moments of ahhh-someness within your day.

The Future is Looking Good

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is it another sign?

I'm On My Way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're Almost There ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're almost there ...

The Writing on the Wall

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Welcome Home

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

The letter holder was Mom's. 

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

The writing was my son's,

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

Two words were enough.

I always feel such awe when

a small thing makes such a big difference.

It Was a Dream (it was only a dream)

Dreams are weird and wonderful and a little wacky. I was smack dab in the middle of a place I didn't want to be and I had no idea all I had to do was open my eyes.

My dream took me everywhere:

• I was running my daycare
• I was trying to leave work but my shoes were gone
• Someone found me a very small pair of slip on sandals I could use (they commented "Thank you, Mrs ?" as they handed the petite sandals over to me, leading me to believe they had once belonged to a beloved senior they once knew)
• I used the borrowed sandals despite the ill fit
• I quit my job
• I went to find my car and was afraid someone took my car so I popped the hood of the trunk to find it was still there
• I backed out of my spot and got stuck on ice
• I revved the car backwards to pick up speed to go forwards on the ice and forgot to look to see if it was safe to do so
• I didn't hit anything or anyone
• I sped past the point where I was stuck before and was in the clear
• Next thing I know, I'm riding a bike uphill towards downtown
• Two skateboarders were coming from opposite directions
• I didn't hit the skateboarders and they hugged when they met up
• I was stuck at an intersection on my bike
• Somewhere in the middle of the chaos I stop to read all the hand written messages written in crayon, bidding me farewell from my job
• One of the messages said, "I hear you quit because you don't like writing up invoices for snow. That's okay ..."
• War planes were flying overhead
• Young children were excited to see the planes
• I was terrified
• A plane hovered over us and a soldier calmly said if they had orders to shoot, they would do so
• I had to turn one way to pick up my child
• Home was in the opposite direction
• The world was ending and I was stuck in an intersection ...

Then I opened my eyes.

Never have I ever been so relieved to wake up, at home, safe and protected. 

Then I realized I woke up to a day off. It is July 1st!!! Happy Canada Day everyone!!!

Stay safe. Wear your shoes. Watch out when you are backing up. And remember hard days don't last forever. A good night's sleep is the best medicine.

Hope Springs Eternal

I'm a bit of a dreamer. 

I like to think I'm an optimistic thinker. 

Gratitude is my daily prayer. 

Faith is simply my belief that (one way or another), things will work out. 

Some how. 

Some way. 

The sun always rises. 

We get a new chance every day. 

Even when we don't want it. 

The sun keeps shining through the closed blinds 

as if to beckon us out of whatever moment we are in 

and invite us to open the blinds to behold the wonder of life.

I had a very quiet weekend.

I love quietness.

I took one day to do all the hard things.

I washed my hair.

I vacuumed.

I washed a load of "whites".

I washed the shower curtain.

I wrote a blog.

I replied to an email.

Then I rested.

I woke up yesterday to a fresh new day.

All the hard things had been done.

A clean slate.

I knew exactly what I wanted to write on that slate.

I wanted to work.

And I did.

I put in a productive day.

I did hard things.

Then I rested.

I slept in this morning.

I missed the early morning dawn when I normally spot our neighborhood rabbits.

I know for a fact we have three rabbits.

I suspect we have four.

One morning, I saw one rabbit. 

I dubbed this rabbit "Loner",

because there always seems to be one rabbit who is set apart from the rest.

Loner hopped out of sight.

I waited.

I wondered if "The Twins" would appear.

We have a set of rabbits who seem to travel together.

When you see one, the other is usually in sight.

Then there is "A Third" who sometimes joins them.

Sometimes not.

I waited only a few moments.

I was rewarded with the appearance of "The Twins", 

soon followed by "The Third".

Yes,

"I think we have four rabbits",
I told my son who is tiring of my rabbit tales.

I thought I had no hope of spotting a rabbit at this morning's late hour.

I opened the blinds.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear ...

but FOUR rabbits!

Now, my question is:

"Do we have four rabbits?

(the Loner, Twins & a Third) ...

or do we have eight rabbits??

The only other time I spotted four rabbits at the same time

is when they hopped in from the south 

and joined the Twins & a Third (Loner had already taken off to the west).

Four rabbits at one sighting.

In the daylight.

So I could document the moment.

I felt like this morning's rabbit sighting was a reward.

A pat on the back for doing the hard things this weekend past.

A nod of approval that sleeping in is okay.

A sign that just because we don't see something doesn't mean it isn't there.

And a definite sign of spring!

The rabbits are shedding their winter coats,

the snow is melting,

daylight is exceeding moonlight,

and it is (finally) warming up.

The sun rises every morning.

Spring is guaranteed to follow winter.

Eventually.

It sometimes feels there is little we know to be true these days.

We don't know how long before we can reignite our social lives and our economy

as this COVID-19 pandemic rules the world.

We don't know the lasting impact this will have.

We don't know who will be infected.

We have no idea how this virus could infiltrate our lives.

Just keep waking up.

Open the blinds and gaze outside.

Do one of the hard things you didn't do yesterday. 

Or not.

You can do hard things tomorrow too.

Rest.

Always rest.

Be grateful for the smallest of things.

Prepare to be amazed.

Marvel at the world around you and dare to wonder ...

This morning

I am wondering

do we just have four rabbits in our midst,

or eight?

Either way,

With spring, comes baby rabbits.

Hope springs eternal.

Is it a Sign??

I am not a big fan of cooking but I've been doing my best. This past weekend I boiled potatoes and eggs to make a potato salad. Later in the day I baked some potatoes in the oven. Then this happened:

My friendly neighborhood reno guy was already planning to drop by so I sent this picture to him and joked that all my cooking must have been a shock to my kitchen and this bubble on our new counter top developed. Upon investigation he discovered that our stove gets dangerously hot when the oven is turned on, thus the development of the bubble under the laminate.

Meanwhile, in between the discovery of the bubbled counter top and my renovation expert's house call, I decided to barbeque some hamburgers and hot dogs for supper. Two barbequed meals in one weekend was truly going above and beyond. But I was feeling domestic so I braved the cooking process and tried, tried again.

I wasn't terribly busy so I had time to sit outside and watch over the grilling process. As I sat watching the closed barbeque, I noticed the label on the front panel of the barbeque starting to bubble and become very hot to the touch. This can't be good, I thought to myself and was quite relieved to turn off the barbeque and file it away until another day.

I recently replaced the burner on the barbeque and the fit wasn't as tight as the original. My son tightened everything up and there were no flames outside the barbeque so we assumed it was good to go. But I am questioning the safety of this cooking apparatus now as well.

Honestly. I am trying. I am trying hard. But it is clear to me. I can read the signs. I am not destined to cook.

(The first "sign" was this one)

The mere thought of our newly renovated house going up in flames due to my attempt to cook is yet another ironic twist to this tale of mine.

I don't have the time nor creative genius to turn this into a song lyric at the moment but as Alanis Morissette would sing:

"And isn't it ironic...don't you think

A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think..."

Too Good to be True?

I was living through some particularly challenging moments yesterday when the constant "ding" "ding" "ding" coming from my cell phone let me know there were people outside of the moment I was in, reaching out in some capacity to tell me things.

When I had time, I peeked in at these messages to find:

• my uncle was home from the hospital and his support systems were rallying and grateful to hear this good news
• my middle son asked if he could spend the night as he was going to be in the neighborhood and it made good sense to save himself some travelling time
• I received an email telling me this same son sent me tickets to see "Oprah Winfrey Presents: Your Path Made Clear" ...
• messages from both of my sisters confirming details about coming to see my youngest son's debut acting performance this week
• an invitation to join my sister to see Cher

Are you kidding me?! An invitation to see Cher AND Oprah?! AND another Sister Sleepover so close on the heels of our last sibling gathering? AND my uncle has rallied after several recent hospital stays and is back home! AND my son was coming to spend the night as the icing on the cake. As if the cake wasn't already sweet enough on its own AND didn't already have enough icing to begin with?

It was a day I feel like I dreamed up as I went along. 

Finally, as I was walking across the parking lot leaving one job, to cross the street to go to my second job when not one, but TWO rabbits hopped across my path then stopped in the middle of the road for me to have time to admire them before they headed for safer ground.

Mom isn't in my thoughts and head in an all consuming kind of the way these days. I still think of her often, feel her within me, speak of her whenever it is fitting. But I don't feel, see and yearn for "signs" of her presence. It felt like those two rabbits were meant to draw my attention, think of Mom, feel her presence and think of what she would be telling me if I was talking to her right now.

Then I went to visit my aunt ... and I could hear Mom's voice within my aunt's words. I just laughed and told her "That is exactly what Mom would say..."

Do we find whatever we are looking for in life? Do we make things up along the way to corroborate the story we are creating in our mind? Do we get back what we put out into the world and simply feel surprised when good things happen?

I am a big believer of karma and the energy of what you give comes back to you, whether it be a good or a bad thing. I haven't been feeling incredibly positive lately, I'm not at my best and I don't feel like I've been as generous as I should be with what I'm giving to the world. The only positive thing I can say is that I'm doing my best. 

Maybe my best is enough. I am being encouraged as my make my way along. I'm even being drawn to cross the street into Part II of my day, with two rabbits leading the way. 

Yesterday felt like it had the potential to bring me to my knees and it ended up being a day that was filled with so many small gifts, blessings and signs it simply felt like it was too good to be true. Am I making this life up as I go along?! Honestly! Invitations to see Cher AND Oprah?! Are you kidding me? This IS too good to be true!

The Planets Have Aligned

I have set the wheels in motion. I am starting a new project. I'm calling it Home and Life Renovation - Phase I

I have ordered flooring for the entire main floor of our home. My Wise Son advised me that while the rooms were already empty, this would be a perfect time to paint. And change the baseboards. And door mouldings. And ... I cannot even begin to fathom where this story will end.

What I DO see, is a vision of turning what was once a daycare home into a warm and inviting family home again. It is still a home with cats so furnishings will remain until said felines no longer shed hair on this earth.

I can VISUALIZE a space where I can sit, be still and feel the contentment that comes from having our home reflect the life I am presently living.

I foresee a time where I start inviting life back into our home. My fortress of solitude will become a space I WANT to share.

I can FEEL the energy starting to resurface. I have a plan. I will move forward from here. I must move forward from this point. I am committed to this plan.

I know this will feel overwhelming. I know I will be frustrated with time and energy limitations. I know this is the biggest renovation project I have undertaken to date.

I also know ... I am not alone. My son has offered his assistance. He not only has a full time job and is taking on two on-line courses but he lives an hour away and has his own home, relationship and herd of cats to tend.

I am beyond fortunate to not only have his offer of assistance but his gentle nudge, opinion and nod of approval as needed. I will not abuse this gift.

The planets are literally aligning and saying "This is a magical chapter so use this cosmic flow ..."

Photo/quote credit to: Alex Myles

"Dream big & know - the Universe is supporting you." Who am I to argue with that logic?

If I build it ... (I'm living in my Field of Dreams again)

Signs

Signs are all around us. Some of them appear to be obvious. Others are hidden and full of meaning.

Since Mom died, I have searched the world looking for a "sign". The harder I look, the less I see. When I sit quietly, simply watch and feel the world around me, signs are everywhere.

A phrase within a song that is rich in meaning at precisely the exact moment I needed to hear the words.

A rabbit hopping through a mall parking lot, completely out of context within the situation and in plain sight so I wouldn't miss it.

The feeling within my heart as I sit still, try to understand and feel what Mom may have feeling as she spent so very many hours alone.

The day I prepared for an impromptu barbeque with my siblings, I felt Mom woven deeply within the day as I unintentionally recreated some of the best moments of the last "good day" I spent with Mom.

I hear her whispering in my ear, saying all the things she used to say in a particular situation. I want to silence her voice when I don't agree with what she said. But I don't, for fear that I will miss out on the good stuff if I snuff out the negative.

I feel her within our cat's eyes when he hid among the lilac bushes and recreated a scene from our ailing cat's, final days. Andre's eyes spoke volumes without saying a word. Mom once told me, "If I ever get sick, I want to be sick like Andre". His steroid medication masked the symptoms of his respiratory illness and to the unknowing eye, one would have never believed he was dying. "If I ever get sick, I want to be sick like Andre" ...

Mom failed to find the humor and perspective of being compared to a cat as her days wound down. But our little Andre taught me everything I needed to know to walk through The Year of Mom.

The conversations one hears by looking into a person's eyes; the weariness of spirit even though the body mightily carries on; the need for rest; the way they rallied as loved ones came to call and learning that letting go is the deepest act of love when you realize they have given all they have to give to the world.

Signs.

I am open to receive and accept any sign I can find. Maybe I'm holding onto false hope. Maybe I'm fooling myself. Maybe I'm seeing what I need to see. But when I feel the essence of Mom within a moment, I know that she is with me in some form.

My cousin posted a video of a hummingbird at the feeder her mom hung many years ago and faithfully kept it full. Throughout the years a hummingbird was never spotted but the feeder was replenished and full of hope.

My uncle said he had never seen a hummingbird at the feeder until this spring. Yesterday was the ten year anniversary of my aunt's passing. My cousin was visiting her dad when she heard an unknown humming sound from above. She looked up and spotted a hummingbird ...

A hummingbird came to visit at a moment when all my cousin had to do was "look up". As my cousin walked through that particular day, her thoughts were quite possibly full of thoughts of her mom. Her mom, who hung a hummingbird feeder years ago, faithfully believing if she kept it full the hummingbirds would come.

A hummingbird feeder was filled with hope. And the hummingbird came. A special gift especially for my cousin and her family, from her mom at a moment when a tiny little bird could say more than words could encompass.

Signs. They are all around us. Sit quietly and look up. You never know what you will see ...