History

I have started to read the book "The Postmistress" by Sarah Blake. I'm slowly wading through the pages but the words at the end of Chapter 4 stopped me in my tracks:

"... But here - she sighed - out there and upstairs, there was nothing of hers. She felt for the first time in her life the danger of other people's things - how they might erase her if she weren't careful ..."

I closed the book and wandered through our home. A home filled with permanence, history and a story unto itself.

I don't crave material 'stuff'. Sure, I like to have things that are serviceable for my needs. I buy what we need (and want). I replace that which is broken (and can't be fixed). Our home doesn't look neglected. But when I wander through our home, I can find a little piece of history in every room.

Our kitchen is furnished with a table and chair set that my parents bought before I was born. The table has been refurbished and the chairs have been reupholstered several times. But the original table and chairs are still standing and completely serviceable to this day. Our kitchen also houses a bench that my dad made.

Mom sent many of her belongings along with us as we tried to 'fill a moving van' with enough to start a new life when we moved out here 22 1/2 years ago. She started us off on our new beginning with not only the table and chairs, but a myriad of many other furnishings which are not only serviceable, but hold a memory or a story.

Many of the belongings in our home are old and refurbished. Mom sanded down and refinished a wooden mirror frame; a dresser and a book shelf that we had, before we moved into the house we live in right now. I painted a dresser that my aunt and uncle donated to us when our belongings were scarce.

Pictures of my family and a picture of our farm adorn the china cabinet.

It is the memories, the people and the history of our family that I cherish. Crystal and bone china hold little significance to me. That which is useful, serviceable and holds a piece of history are much finer gifts to hold onto.

As I read the last lines of Chapter 4 of "The Postmistress", something inside of me awoke to the knowledge that I am rich beyond words. I am surrounded by history. Not only in the belongings that a find strewn throughout our home ... but in the memories ... and in the family that I find myself drawn to, more and more each day.

It is my goal to encapsulate a piece of our family's history between the covers of a book. It has been a gift to wander through the country side and collect these most special trinkets of information which each family member holds within.

It is time to organize these memories and put them together so that I can share that gift with the rest of the family.

Shared history and finding a little piece of myself within a family member that I didn't even know brings me such a sense of 'belonging'. I have never felt more grounded than I do right now.

The material belongings that surround me can be taken away. The memories? This feeling inside of me? They are here to stay.

I am building a life on the person that I have become. So much of who I am, is based on 'history'. I am beyond grateful that my history has given me wings to fly. I know that I am blessed.

It Was Only a Dream

I came home to find a handful of children in my backyard. Whoops ... had I forgotten that I had to be home for my after school children? And there was a young girl that I didn't recognize. Who was she? I asked her. I didn't know her. I had to track down her mom and tell her where she was ...

And then I woke up.

As my conscious mind caught up to the unreality of my dream I remembered: I don't babysit anymore! I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't forget!

A weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I don't babysit anymore!

The 'Holiday-to-Work-Transition'

This holiday has been one of the most unplanned and uninspired holidays that I can remember. It's also been one of the best holidays that I can remember.

The holiday budget was nil this year. Even though I've had a few windfalls that eased the financial worries, my new reality is that I have worked my way back to the "working poor" status. I've been here before. It's not unfamiliar. But it's a world where I must respect my financial limitations.

My Youngest and I went on what most people consider a 'real vacation' last year. We travelled new roads, we saw new sights, we played tourist and spent a grand total of four whole nights in a hotel. We wound that up with an additional three nights at my mom's. My Youngest was so glad to get home, that the idea of going on a holiday isn't high on his priority list. Not this year, anyway.

My entire holiday itinerary consisted of a few gatherings at my house and to go out to Mom's. End of plan. It was a perfect way to go. Think small, do small and be happy with whatever happens.

Week #1 of my holidays was basically to consist of:

• No school
• No bookkeeping
• No housework
• No dancing (!?!)
• No babysitting

I attained 100% success with the goals set out before me.

Week #2 was to ease back into reality. There are certain beginning-of-the-month tasks that must be done in my bookkeeping job. I asked if it was okay if I was available to work on the work that must be done for this week, and I would immerse myself into this new full-time role of bookkeeper next week.

So I have worked approximately 'half time' this week. Long enough to accomplish what must be done. Long enough to help my pay cheque at the end of the month. Long enough to appreciate the end of my short work day. Long enough ...

I went to my dance lesson last night. I was ill prepared and unpracticed (nothing new there), but my goal is to devote more time to practicing before my lesson. My instructor works with what he has, but we would accomplish so much more, if I worked at honing a few of the skills on my own. Last night was fun and easy. It was good enough ...

I have been cooking. Holidays equals 'no cooking' in my world. But this second week of half-holiday/half-work, plus the fact that I must be careful with my spending has equated into home-cooked-meals. It hasn't been awful. It's been pretty good, as a matter of fact ...

I have been mapping out the weeks ahead of me. Tentative plans have been made with several people. Something to anticipate. I find that I work harder and accomplish more, when I have to work around other commitments in my life. My heart is already pumping with anticipation as I see what is unfolding in my life next week. How will I accomplish all that I need to do and still have time for the fun stuff? Oh! Where there is a will, there is a way.

My new life is to be one of flexibility. I have a job, expectations and hours that I must log. But I can work my job around my life, instead of working my life around my job.

There is much to be done in my new full-time job. I believe that there is more work, than there is time in the day (at least for now, and probably for the next year or so). I anticipate that I will work harder than I've worked in a very long time. But the reward, is the fact that I am in control of the hours that I work. I can put in my hours however and whenever I want ... as long as the work gets done. This is exactly what I asked for.

I'm easing back into the real world and into my new reality. This second week of 'holiday-to-work-transition' has been a good one. I hope I'm ready for what's ahead

Music and Lyrics

"A melody is like seeing someone for the first time. The physical attraction. Sex. ... But then, as you get to know the person, that's the lyrics. Their story. Who they are underneath. It's the combination of the two that makes it magical." ~ "Music and Lyrics"

It's always a catchy melody that grabs my attention. Music that strikes a chord in my heart and in my soul. Fun and peppy ... deep and resonating in my heart ... something that makes you want to dance ... something that makes you feel. Yes, it's the 'physical attraction'.

Then come the lyrics. I love when the words tell a story that touches my world.

I have recently stumbled onto Internet radio. Our local FM radio stations were a thorn in my side. Too many advertisements, too much talking and finally when the music would start to play, it was an annoying cacophony of notes and words that assaulted my senses. I preferred the quietness of my thoughts over the brash 'music' that eventually hit the radio waves.

I turned off the radio in the car several years ago. My Son gave me a CD player for Christmas shortly thereafter. I burned a few CD's with some of my musical favorites and played them over and over again in the car. Once again, silence was sometimes the music of choice after hearing the same songs for the bazillionth time.

My discovery of an Internet radio station that plays 'my kind of music' all day long, with precious few moments that aren't musically inclined has broadened my horizons. I love that music is once again touching my world in new and improved ways. My own music collection is benefiting from a new selection of songs.

Then I watched the movie "Music and Lyrics". I love the quote about the magical quality of the combination of the music and lyrics. It's exactly how I feel. I just hadn't put the thought to words.

I love when a movie can do that for me.

A Summary

My thoughts won't stop on one topic long enough for me to write a little blog about it. I don't seem to have one underlying theme to stop and focus on. So I'll just ramble this morning. It feels like that kind of day.

Where do I begin?

June 25th. That was the last day that my school was open (it closes for a two week summer vacation). Even though I'm approximately one day away from completing the last course that I need to earn my diploma, I couldn't do it on June 25th. I had logged my school hours for the week (and then some), so I had the choice to focus on other things that day. For sanity's sake, I fully believe that I made the best choice - not to focus on school that day.

June 25th. The last day of school for the kids. The last of the school supplies and excessive paperwork came home. The report card came home. I read it. Once. It is clipped to the side of the fridge so that I can look at it again. Someday.

June 25th. My last day of babysitting. Perhaps ... for forever. I did a little checking yesterday and I will be losing money, if I babysit the one child that needs me for one hour before school next fall. I'm seriously considering abandoning ship. More research is required. But June 25th? My last day of babysitting? Completely uncelebrated and unacknowledged. The end of my daycare career went out with as little fan fare as it received when I started.

June 25th. The first night of 'Dance Camp'. Three hours of dance lessons (thankfully with a short break after each hour). We focused on the Waltz, the Tango and the Foxtrot. Oh ... my aching feet. My favorite part of the whole evening? Getting to visit with all of the people that don't normally come out to the group dance classes. I felt like a kid. "My favorite part was recess!" My brain stops working when my feet start hurting. So I absorbed approximately 45 minutes of knowledge out of a total of 180 available minutes of dance education.

Then came the next day:

June 26th. The second day of 'Dance Camp'. This time, it was three hours of dance lessons (Cha Cha, Rumba and Swing), followed by a pot luck supper ... at my house. I cleaned nooks and crannies that haven't been cleaned since our cat had fleas, in preparation for my company. I got obsessive about things I wanted to do and organize before my guests arrived (thus, I didn't go to school on the 25th). And it was worth the effort.

I loved having people gather in my home. Loved it! It took a while before I sat back and just relaxed ... but once I did, I savored every moment. It is great to have the opportunity to get to know my dance acquaintances outside of the dance studio. It was symbolic to open my home and life to these new friendships. My world feels bright and shiny and new, as I take steps to know people and let them know a piece of me.

June 27th and 28th. Time to rest, appreciate and absorb the events of the weekend past. It was wonderful. I did question my ability to function as a human being as I lost my train of thought in mid sentence, jumbled up words when I spoke, lost the car (and My Youngest) in a parking lot and other miscellaneous things. But it felt very good to stop for a few days and catch my breath. Because ...

June 29th, I had my cousins over for supper/the evening. It was a quiet and laid back visit. Initially, I had sent out an invitation asking who may be interested in getting together to collect memories for the family history book that I'm compiling. There wasn't much feedback on that idea, so we just visited and caught up with each other's current lives instead. Very enjoyable.

June 30th - we headed off to visit my mom. No predetermined plans once we got there. It was a play it by the moment kind of holiday. Normally when I go to Mom's, we do a fair bit of gallivanting. Between trying to visit old friends and taking My Youngest a few places to entertain him, we bounce in and out of Mom's doors a lot. Not this time. My Youngest packed his X-Box and was content to stay put. I went out one evening with a friend. But the rest of the time? Mom and I visited. We reminisced about family history ... we talked about many things (in a light and easy way). We didn't dwell on anything negative, worrisome or serious for any length of time. The visit was to be of the 'feel-good' variety. And it was.

July 4th. We returned home. We walked in the door at 5:30 and I was back out the door by 6:00. I had supper with My Oldest and then we came home and had a long overdue one-on-one chat. It was perfect. My cousin's wife dropped by after My Oldest left. It was 10:00 before I locked the door and I was alone.

July 5th. I went out for an all-morning coffee with my Second Son. I came home and called my sister. I wasn't ready to return to my regularly scheduled life quite yet. So I lingered somewhere in limbo between holidays and reality that day. It was a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.

July 6th - yesterday. Back to the real world. I had statements to work on for my bookkeeping job. I put in a 6 1/2 hour work day. I made supper. I sent off a handful of emails to people I wanted to 'talk' to. I talked to a friend on the phone. I ended the day by falling asleep in front of the TV set. Ahhh ... reality.

I love my reality. The past weeks have been fun, but if I didn't have this routine life to return back to I would be lost.

My routine life is undergoing some change. It will be interesting to see what the next months have in store, as I focus on one job. I wonder what energy I will have in me at the end of the day and the end of the week. Where will I divert the excess time?

Almost every email that I sent out yesterday was initiating a gathering of friends or a one-on-one visit with someone. Somehow, I have a feeling that my time will be filled with people and activities that fuel me.

I am excited about what life has in store. I feel like I'm on the cusp of a new beginning. I have time in my life to allow new life into it. I have a little piece of happy within me. And as I told my mom, "I just feel a little bit happier every day!"

Life just doesn't get any better than this ... or does it? Stay tuned!

Quiet

I live a quiet existence. I wake up in the mornings and I'm alone with my thoughts. And I have a lot of thoughts. So I write ...

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I've been on the go. I've been around people. I've had people gather in my home. I've been on a short holiday. I've been so busy living my life, that I haven't had those peaceful, quiet moments to sit and write.

I drove for five hours and thoughts of the weeks that preceded that very moment came wafting back to me. Happy little thoughts. Words, people, special moments, thought provoking conversations, the laughter, the tears, the friendship and family.

I didn't turn on any music as I drove. I just listened to the memories as they came to mind.

It was the best conversation that I didn't have.

Making Room For the New

My Middle Son did me the huge favor of cleaning out the garage. I gave him free reign.

I have a very hard time letting go of things that I think that I just may need again one day. More often than not, when I go through the house, what I do is shuffle my belongings.

I tidy things up, bring forward the items that I use all of the time and store the less used items in another spot.

I throw away a little, I donate a little and I sell a little. But I keep a lot.

My Son is not the same as me. When he cleans ... he cleans out. I knew the garage needed that. I closed my eyes and let him go. He tried to explain what he was doing and why, but I had to just let it go. Trust him. Trust that he knew what had to stay.

He did a wonderful job. The garage is completely decluttered and it feels amazing.

He also cleaned out the playhouse and sorted through the masses of toys that I have out there from my daycare 'career'. I look at the shelves of toys in that playhouse. I look at the spare bedroom that is filled to capacity with toys. There are high chairs and playpens lined up in the basement. There are toys in the shelving unit in the living room.

Then there is my bedroom closet. Yet another Pandora's Box that I dare not open until I'm fully rested. It is full of things that I just don't seem to want to let go of.

I thought of what I had read about needing to clean out the old, to make room for the new. Not new possessions ... but a new life.

My daycare career is history. I'm moving on. My past is my past. I'm moving on.

It's time to clean house. And make room for a new life.