I went out for supper last night with My Friend. The Friend that will be going to Alaska with me.
The evening started with her noticing that we have (almost) the exact same purses. She bought hers a few months ago in preparation for our trip. My purse is 'three purses old'. The zipper fob had broke and I found it stashed in the recesses of my closet this past fall. It felt like Christmas when I found this (almost) usable purse within the confines of my own home. And My Friend recently purchased one just like it. It is an omen.
This feeling of connection began almost five years ago when we sat down at a table and picked up our friendship where we had last left off. There was a little bit of the 'tell me about the last 28 years of your life', but there was a lot of those meaningful 'I get what you are not saying' moments. It was easy.
It took us several years to set a time and place to get together for coffee. As soon as we sat down, we were off and running. Three hours and two cups of coffee later, we were not only fortified with a dose of caffeine, but we knew that our long time friendship was going to be part of our future.
My friend's aunt knows my dad's family well, so we went on a few 'field trips' to collect memories for my dad's family's story. It is an hour and a half drive each way. Three more hours to reconnect and find that we were able to complete each other's thoughts. We were on the same wavelength and each of us appreciated and acknowledged that this is a connection of a true friend.
The next time we met, I had already purchased my Alaskan Cruise holiday. As she asked many questions about my upcoming holiday, I had no idea what was going on in her mind until she told me. She wanted to check with her husband first, but if he was okay with the idea she would like to join me. The rest is history.
We sat down for our fifth visit in five years last night. We sat back and marvelled at the parallel lives that we have led in our adult years.
Our first born children were born within the same month of the same year. She became a grandma within six months of my last child being born. We laughed about that as I mentioned my surprise to find out that I was going to be a Mom one more time, at such an advanced age. But I quietly laughed to myself and thought, "Well ... I could just as easily be becoming a Grandma ... and I liked the idea of 'Mom' better". She quickly replied, "I chose Grandma!"
There is a language that we speak that goes beyond the surface. I hear her words and some of the adages she lives by and I have a sense of feeling that I have walked a parallel path.
There are many, many ways that our lives are polar opposite. But it is in the roots of the hills in which our parents were born and raised, and those same hills where we grew up that has forged a connection. A connection that goes far beyond the fact that we became friends because we lived one short country road away from each other.
Our parents knew each other as children. Their families have many co joined memories. We know all of the same people. There is a depth of shared history that has enhanced our renewed friendship.
Once again, I can't help but think of my dad. My Dad who was a friend to my friend's parents. Her parents and my dad are no longer with us. It is at times like these that I feel a sense of wondering if Dad and her parents are together and smiling down on our friendship and are grateful that our paths have crossed once again and our childhood friendship has been rekindled.
As I gazed at My Friend's purse and reviewed the many small connections that we have, I know without a doubt that this amazing Holiday Adventure will only be enhanced with my First Friend at my side.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Getting Dirty
My job is turning out to be nothing as I expected.
What started as a "more than full-time, if you want it", work-from-home job has turned out to be a "not even close to full-time", work-outside-of-home job.
I've adjusted. If working outside of my home meant full-time hours, it was a small price to pay. I have looked and found the positives, in a situation I didn't want.
The ability to separate work from home is wonderful. I have absolutely nothing work-related in our home any more. I look around the house and I see no more reminders of my day care days, nor my bookkeeping-out-of-my-home days. I come home from work at the end of my day ... and I relax.
Evenings and weekends are mine. No longer am I plagued with the idea that I must make up for lost time, by working outside of the 9 - 5 day. I see a weekend as time-off ... not a time to play catch-up at work. I like this concept.
For the past month, I have had a project at work which kept me busy, challenged, focused and happy. I was working on balancing bank statements. A challenge that I enjoy. A game! I utilized my brain and it felt good to pull out that little used muscle and give it a work out. It felt wonderful to use my power of reasoning to figure out the puzzles of the numbers before me. I liked my job!
Then ... I completed that mission.
This week? Has not been one of my favorites. I have been working in the shop - labelling shelves; putting stickers on boxes (so someone else can label them?); matching tags with part numbers to the parts hanging on the walls; checking off said parts to a sheet.
I have been sitting in the grime and dirt, getting my hands dirty and frustrated because this job could have been completed in one, simple step if I had known what the game plan was at the beginning.
There is no time for anyone to sit down and tell me what to do. From beginning to end. I suppose if some one would have done that, I would have been overwhelmed and frustrated from the onset. Instead, I find the frustration in waiting for being told what to do next.
To add insult to injury, I am working in the public eye right now. I go to work dressed in my most ugly, ill fitting clothes because I don't want to ruin any clothes I actually like. I don't bother washing my hair at the onset of the day, because I come home reeking of diesel. I want to blend into those walls like the rest of the diesel parts.
I have worked with the public my entire working career. I want to shrivel up and disappear when I see customers that I cannot help. Picking up a ringing telephone scares the socks off me. The absolutely only thing I could say that could be of any help would be, "Can you hold?"
I suppose it is a hidden blessing that there is not an 8 hour day available to me this week. I am so ready to run out that door as soon as I have permission to do so, that the last thing I'm worrying about is the lack of hours that I'm working. I am only available to work 13 days this month (because of my upcoming Great Alaskan Cruise Adventure). I needed to make the most of those days.
Today is another day. When I left work yesterday, I was told that today would be 'more of the same'. And when I was done that, I would get to start entering this information in the system. Oh! How I hope I get to do that in my upstairs 'office' (working upstairs with spare diesel parts and the furnace has never sounded better).
I had become accustomed to the fact that I smelled like diesel at the end of my day. Dirt under my fingernails and grease embedded in my dried up fingers was not the accessory I was looking to go with that fragrance.
What started as a "more than full-time, if you want it", work-from-home job has turned out to be a "not even close to full-time", work-outside-of-home job.
I've adjusted. If working outside of my home meant full-time hours, it was a small price to pay. I have looked and found the positives, in a situation I didn't want.
The ability to separate work from home is wonderful. I have absolutely nothing work-related in our home any more. I look around the house and I see no more reminders of my day care days, nor my bookkeeping-out-of-my-home days. I come home from work at the end of my day ... and I relax.
Evenings and weekends are mine. No longer am I plagued with the idea that I must make up for lost time, by working outside of the 9 - 5 day. I see a weekend as time-off ... not a time to play catch-up at work. I like this concept.
For the past month, I have had a project at work which kept me busy, challenged, focused and happy. I was working on balancing bank statements. A challenge that I enjoy. A game! I utilized my brain and it felt good to pull out that little used muscle and give it a work out. It felt wonderful to use my power of reasoning to figure out the puzzles of the numbers before me. I liked my job!
Then ... I completed that mission.
This week? Has not been one of my favorites. I have been working in the shop - labelling shelves; putting stickers on boxes (so someone else can label them?); matching tags with part numbers to the parts hanging on the walls; checking off said parts to a sheet.
I have been sitting in the grime and dirt, getting my hands dirty and frustrated because this job could have been completed in one, simple step if I had known what the game plan was at the beginning.
There is no time for anyone to sit down and tell me what to do. From beginning to end. I suppose if some one would have done that, I would have been overwhelmed and frustrated from the onset. Instead, I find the frustration in waiting for being told what to do next.
To add insult to injury, I am working in the public eye right now. I go to work dressed in my most ugly, ill fitting clothes because I don't want to ruin any clothes I actually like. I don't bother washing my hair at the onset of the day, because I come home reeking of diesel. I want to blend into those walls like the rest of the diesel parts.
I have worked with the public my entire working career. I want to shrivel up and disappear when I see customers that I cannot help. Picking up a ringing telephone scares the socks off me. The absolutely only thing I could say that could be of any help would be, "Can you hold?"
I suppose it is a hidden blessing that there is not an 8 hour day available to me this week. I am so ready to run out that door as soon as I have permission to do so, that the last thing I'm worrying about is the lack of hours that I'm working. I am only available to work 13 days this month (because of my upcoming Great Alaskan Cruise Adventure). I needed to make the most of those days.
Today is another day. When I left work yesterday, I was told that today would be 'more of the same'. And when I was done that, I would get to start entering this information in the system. Oh! How I hope I get to do that in my upstairs 'office' (working upstairs with spare diesel parts and the furnace has never sounded better).
I had become accustomed to the fact that I smelled like diesel at the end of my day. Dirt under my fingernails and grease embedded in my dried up fingers was not the accessory I was looking to go with that fragrance.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Dependency
For the better part of my adult life, I have been independent.
My marriage taught me all I needed to know for the future chapters of my life. I had to be financially independent. I had to have the ability to know that I could take care of myself, because my marriage was one in which the possibility of leaving in the middle of the night was a reality.
Before, during and after our various reconciliations, I took care of our family home and yard. I paid the bills. I arranged for our children's needs. I did what it took to keep a household running. I needed no man to take care of me. I did it on my own and I was proud of the fact.
Enter Important Relationship Number Two. I think that this man was attracted to my lack of neediness, because that was encouraged throughout our relationship. I asked nothing of him and if I received more than that, I was over the moon.
Unfortunately, that independence led to two separate lives. Each of us found happiness outside of our relationship ... and I'm not talking in any illicit-affair-sort-of-way. He found a friend who was ready, willing and able to try new things while I continued my independent status of primary caregiver of our child. I started attending events that had little interest to him and found my way back to my family and the joy that comes with finding a piece of yourself that you had lost.
Throughout this independent life of mine, I knew that I had no one to rely on but myself. I did anything and everything I needed to do around the house and yard. I asked very little of my growing children because I had high standards and I didn't want to find myself 'redoing' something that my child had already done. Yes, I did it to myself. But I did it.
Then my oldest children grew up into two independent souls. Recently, I have found myself leaning on my children and accepting their help when offered.
Their services come in many forms. From driving ... to treating me to a meal ... to running an errand ... to accepting a gift ... muscle power ... and brain power. Between the three of us, there is little that I feel we cannot do.
I asked my Second Son to move back home last year. I had selfish motives, but I knew he would also receive mutual benefits from sharing some of the household expenses. We decided that we could make this work. And it has. Because my Second Son lives at home, I seem to be on the receiving end of his generosity a lot.
When Mom's health was in question and I needed to go out to her, it was without question that my Second Son told me, "Don't worry about a thing. I've got it covered." From taking care of My Youngest Son, to taking care of all that running a household entails. I left and knew that 'life' at home was being well tended in my absence.
He has taken over the maintenance of our yard. I can count the number of times that I shovelled snow last winter on one hand. I haven't touched the lawn mower in almost a year. The dreaded task of tuning up the lawn mower? He did it for me this year. I didn't have to ask. He just did it. This is marvelous!
He's a handy guy to have around. If something is broken, he either fixes it or runs out and takes care of what needs to be done to get it fixed.
If I need muscle power, he's there. If I ask for things to 'disappear' (excess junk to the dump or to give away), he makes it happen. If I give him free reign to do a job, he does it.
I sit back and marvel at his capacity to do so much more than I could ever do, in the same amount of time. I can and have done all that he does ... but it easily takes double the effort and time.
But all of this has made me lazy.
Sunday night, my Second Son quickly rearranged the living room while I tended to other matters. I came into the room and Poof! it was done. We put our heads together to fine tune the look. I vacuumed the nooks and crannies (and tried to convince the pile of the carpet to lose its memory). I rearranged the contents of the TV wall unit. But in reality, he did it. I just did what I do best. I puttered with the minor details.
Monday morning, my Second Son granted me a second wish. He decluttered the (old) playroom in the basement. Poof! It was emptied.
Not only that ... but a new queen size mattress awaited me upon my return from work. I had a new bed. All I had to do was build it.
I looked at the work to be done and felt overwhelmed. I would have to empty my room to make room for the bed. Which meant my old bed had to go into a room which was already fully furnished. So that room would have to be emptied as well. Then I would have to reassemble my old bed. Not to mention all of the vacuuming and dusting that would entail as I went along.
My Son would be right, when he said it felt like I expected him to do that for me. I didn't want to expect it ... but yes, I certainly did hope that he would say (once again), "Let's do it!" But he didn't.
Monday night, I took on the job at hand. At least the first phase. I disassembled my old bed and vacuumed the dust bunnies that have been in hiding (and others that were boldly staring me in the face). I dragged up the various boxes which contained the parts and pieces required to build my new bed frame. And I built it.
That behind me, my super-strength returned as I eagerly set out to drag my new mattress to its new home. I was almost to the finish line. All that was left to do, was to complete the look with the new bedding that I had purchased along with the bed frame almost seven months ago. Voila! (not Poof!) ... my mission was (eventually) accomplished.
Except ... I still had a spare bedroom with an unassembled bed and an assembled futon. I walked by that room for the next day and a half and pretended it didn't exist. I went to work and came back home ... and no more Poof!, it was done. It awaited my return.
I took Tuesday night off. But last night, I tackled the job set out before me. I vacuumed the nooks and crannies of the rooms involved to warm up my moving muscles. And I was off.
A few hours after I began, my mission was complete. The futon has been moved and is settling in nicely into our new Game and Exercise Room downstairs. My old bed has been reassembled, remade with freshly washed 'everything' and is awaiting its first guest (which should arrive in about a week).
The nooks and crannies of four rooms of our home have been vacuumed. Half of our home looks fresh and new with the minor transformations. Not one penny has been spent in this 'renovation'.
I am thrilled and excited about this mini-makeover. But do you know what feels best of all? That I completed the last half of the transformation by myself.
I don't like to feel needy or dependent. When I have people willing to do a job for me, it is very simple to allow it to happen. It starts small. Some extra manpower when one person can't do the job. But when it becomes all consuming and one (that would be me) starts to expect others to do things for them ... it is time to roll up one's sleeves and rediscover the power that independence brings.
Don't take this the wrong way. I will still gladly accept help when it is offered. But I will not let myself become weak with learning to depend on others when I can do the job myself.
Team work is a most excellent goal. But knowing you can do it by yourself is empowering.
My marriage taught me all I needed to know for the future chapters of my life. I had to be financially independent. I had to have the ability to know that I could take care of myself, because my marriage was one in which the possibility of leaving in the middle of the night was a reality.
Before, during and after our various reconciliations, I took care of our family home and yard. I paid the bills. I arranged for our children's needs. I did what it took to keep a household running. I needed no man to take care of me. I did it on my own and I was proud of the fact.
Enter Important Relationship Number Two. I think that this man was attracted to my lack of neediness, because that was encouraged throughout our relationship. I asked nothing of him and if I received more than that, I was over the moon.
Unfortunately, that independence led to two separate lives. Each of us found happiness outside of our relationship ... and I'm not talking in any illicit-affair-sort-of-way. He found a friend who was ready, willing and able to try new things while I continued my independent status of primary caregiver of our child. I started attending events that had little interest to him and found my way back to my family and the joy that comes with finding a piece of yourself that you had lost.
Throughout this independent life of mine, I knew that I had no one to rely on but myself. I did anything and everything I needed to do around the house and yard. I asked very little of my growing children because I had high standards and I didn't want to find myself 'redoing' something that my child had already done. Yes, I did it to myself. But I did it.
Then my oldest children grew up into two independent souls. Recently, I have found myself leaning on my children and accepting their help when offered.
Their services come in many forms. From driving ... to treating me to a meal ... to running an errand ... to accepting a gift ... muscle power ... and brain power. Between the three of us, there is little that I feel we cannot do.
I asked my Second Son to move back home last year. I had selfish motives, but I knew he would also receive mutual benefits from sharing some of the household expenses. We decided that we could make this work. And it has. Because my Second Son lives at home, I seem to be on the receiving end of his generosity a lot.
When Mom's health was in question and I needed to go out to her, it was without question that my Second Son told me, "Don't worry about a thing. I've got it covered." From taking care of My Youngest Son, to taking care of all that running a household entails. I left and knew that 'life' at home was being well tended in my absence.
He has taken over the maintenance of our yard. I can count the number of times that I shovelled snow last winter on one hand. I haven't touched the lawn mower in almost a year. The dreaded task of tuning up the lawn mower? He did it for me this year. I didn't have to ask. He just did it. This is marvelous!
He's a handy guy to have around. If something is broken, he either fixes it or runs out and takes care of what needs to be done to get it fixed.
If I need muscle power, he's there. If I ask for things to 'disappear' (excess junk to the dump or to give away), he makes it happen. If I give him free reign to do a job, he does it.
I sit back and marvel at his capacity to do so much more than I could ever do, in the same amount of time. I can and have done all that he does ... but it easily takes double the effort and time.
But all of this has made me lazy.
Sunday night, my Second Son quickly rearranged the living room while I tended to other matters. I came into the room and Poof! it was done. We put our heads together to fine tune the look. I vacuumed the nooks and crannies (and tried to convince the pile of the carpet to lose its memory). I rearranged the contents of the TV wall unit. But in reality, he did it. I just did what I do best. I puttered with the minor details.
Monday morning, my Second Son granted me a second wish. He decluttered the (old) playroom in the basement. Poof! It was emptied.
Not only that ... but a new queen size mattress awaited me upon my return from work. I had a new bed. All I had to do was build it.
I looked at the work to be done and felt overwhelmed. I would have to empty my room to make room for the bed. Which meant my old bed had to go into a room which was already fully furnished. So that room would have to be emptied as well. Then I would have to reassemble my old bed. Not to mention all of the vacuuming and dusting that would entail as I went along.
My Son would be right, when he said it felt like I expected him to do that for me. I didn't want to expect it ... but yes, I certainly did hope that he would say (once again), "Let's do it!" But he didn't.
Monday night, I took on the job at hand. At least the first phase. I disassembled my old bed and vacuumed the dust bunnies that have been in hiding (and others that were boldly staring me in the face). I dragged up the various boxes which contained the parts and pieces required to build my new bed frame. And I built it.
That behind me, my super-strength returned as I eagerly set out to drag my new mattress to its new home. I was almost to the finish line. All that was left to do, was to complete the look with the new bedding that I had purchased along with the bed frame almost seven months ago. Voila! (not Poof!) ... my mission was (eventually) accomplished.
Except ... I still had a spare bedroom with an unassembled bed and an assembled futon. I walked by that room for the next day and a half and pretended it didn't exist. I went to work and came back home ... and no more Poof!, it was done. It awaited my return.
I took Tuesday night off. But last night, I tackled the job set out before me. I vacuumed the nooks and crannies of the rooms involved to warm up my moving muscles. And I was off.
A few hours after I began, my mission was complete. The futon has been moved and is settling in nicely into our new Game and Exercise Room downstairs. My old bed has been reassembled, remade with freshly washed 'everything' and is awaiting its first guest (which should arrive in about a week).
The nooks and crannies of four rooms of our home have been vacuumed. Half of our home looks fresh and new with the minor transformations. Not one penny has been spent in this 'renovation'.
I am thrilled and excited about this mini-makeover. But do you know what feels best of all? That I completed the last half of the transformation by myself.
I don't like to feel needy or dependent. When I have people willing to do a job for me, it is very simple to allow it to happen. It starts small. Some extra manpower when one person can't do the job. But when it becomes all consuming and one (that would be me) starts to expect others to do things for them ... it is time to roll up one's sleeves and rediscover the power that independence brings.
Don't take this the wrong way. I will still gladly accept help when it is offered. But I will not let myself become weak with learning to depend on others when I can do the job myself.
Team work is a most excellent goal. But knowing you can do it by yourself is empowering.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
A Night Off
Finally! I sat still in our 'new' living room and watched TV last night.
Then, I fell asleep. Sitting up.
The only thing that could keep me awake was movement or eating. When I stopped both ... I slept.
By 8:00, I could no longer even try to keep my eyes open. So I started the 'mission' of going to bed.
Darn! I had a dish from supper soaking in the kitchen sink. I like waking up and finding an empty sink. So I washed that and put it away.
Drats! That load of laundry was still in the dryer. If I put that away, I would have extra time to return a few emails in the morning. I began the (seemingly) endless task of folding the clothes and putting them away.
Cat litter! Just do it. If it is cleaned at night, it is one less thing to do in the morning.
Garbage! It wasn't overflowing, but as with everything else ... I like knowing it won't be one of those jobs I'm racing to do as I'm running out the door in the morning.
Then I 'just' had to get my head ready for bed. Wash my face. Brush my teeth. I was almost there. The finish line was so close.
I crawled into my pj's and sprawled out on my new bed. Ahhh!! What a wonderful reward at the end of a long and tedious day (I have had two endless days of mindless work at my job this week).
I woke up this morning and thought of that TV in the living room. It could be the beginning of the end for me, if I allow it to take over my evenings.
As much as I fought the idea of utilizing the after-supper hours the previous five days, I felt much better in the morning when I did something besides crash in front of the TV set at night.
Yes ... everything I do in the evening affects the morning after.
Now, it is time to make the most of the day ahead of me.
Then, I fell asleep. Sitting up.
The only thing that could keep me awake was movement or eating. When I stopped both ... I slept.
By 8:00, I could no longer even try to keep my eyes open. So I started the 'mission' of going to bed.
Darn! I had a dish from supper soaking in the kitchen sink. I like waking up and finding an empty sink. So I washed that and put it away.
Drats! That load of laundry was still in the dryer. If I put that away, I would have extra time to return a few emails in the morning. I began the (seemingly) endless task of folding the clothes and putting them away.
Cat litter! Just do it. If it is cleaned at night, it is one less thing to do in the morning.
Garbage! It wasn't overflowing, but as with everything else ... I like knowing it won't be one of those jobs I'm racing to do as I'm running out the door in the morning.
Then I 'just' had to get my head ready for bed. Wash my face. Brush my teeth. I was almost there. The finish line was so close.
I crawled into my pj's and sprawled out on my new bed. Ahhh!! What a wonderful reward at the end of a long and tedious day (I have had two endless days of mindless work at my job this week).
I woke up this morning and thought of that TV in the living room. It could be the beginning of the end for me, if I allow it to take over my evenings.
As much as I fought the idea of utilizing the after-supper hours the previous five days, I felt much better in the morning when I did something besides crash in front of the TV set at night.
Yes ... everything I do in the evening affects the morning after.
Now, it is time to make the most of the day ahead of me.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
It All Started With a Spare TV
My Oldest had a spare TV set that he didn't want or need, so he generously offered to give it to me. Since our TV to human ratio in our home is already at 1.25 TV's : 1 person, I didn't think it was necessary. But since two of those television sets are smaller than a lot of computer monitors, I thought why not?
After our eventual arrival back home around 9:00 p.m. on Sunday night, my Second Son asked "What do you want to do with that TV set?" My response (while simultaneously thinking "Not a thing, right now") was "I was considering putting it in the living room". His response? "Let's do it!" And he did.
This is what our living room now looks like:
The shuffling of furniture and fine tuning the new look led our conversation to things like "What about turning the spare room into an office like you are always talking about ..."
I am not a great fan of changing the entire function of a room. It means a massive amount of furniture reshuffling and the inevitable cleaning that ensues (because the above mentioned furniture has not been moved in at least five years).
I visibly shuddered at the idea and suggested we just leave things as they are and go to sleep (we didn't sit down in our newly arranged living room until the late, late hours of Sunday night).
I woke up yesterday morning thinking maybe My Son was right. We needed to shake things up a little around here. I left him a note telling him it was purely voluntary ... but if we are going to start shuffling rooms around, the place to start is the basement. If he felt like it, he had full reign to do as he pleased to clear it out.
By the time I came home from work yesterday afternoon, the only thing left in the room were the boxes containing the brand new bed frame that goes with the bedroom suite I purchased last fall.
He helped arrange a steal-of-a-deal for a queen sized mattress for me and it was waiting for me upon my arrival home as well.
He suggested that I start emptying out my room so that I could sleep in my new bed.
The last thing in the world I felt like doing was clearing out my room, vacuuming, dusting, setting up a new bed frame and struggling with a queen sized mattress.
But ... since My Son was busy building this ...
I really had no choice but to follow through on his suggestion.
Much to my chagrin, instead of plunking myself down in our new living room and watching 'Dancing With the Stars' ... I was utilizing my new found packing, lifting and moving muscles once again.
It went fairly well (other than the part where I was supposed to have 12 screws and only had 10; 2 of those, which were stripped; 2 more of which, I could not line up where they were supposed to be).
And last night ... I ended up sleeping in this:
I slept in the lap of luxury last night - complete with 'Egyptian Cotton' sheets. Ohmigosh ... it was heavenly!!!
Our Cat found his way into my bed soon after I did last night. I tossed and turned (as I always do) and found that there was ample room for both of us. I think he appreciated the extra room as much as I did.
Yes ... it is a bed fit for queen (and her cat).
And it all started with a spare TV set (and this saga has not ended yet) ...
After our eventual arrival back home around 9:00 p.m. on Sunday night, my Second Son asked "What do you want to do with that TV set?" My response (while simultaneously thinking "Not a thing, right now") was "I was considering putting it in the living room". His response? "Let's do it!" And he did.
The shuffling of furniture and fine tuning the new look led our conversation to things like "What about turning the spare room into an office like you are always talking about ..."
I am not a great fan of changing the entire function of a room. It means a massive amount of furniture reshuffling and the inevitable cleaning that ensues (because the above mentioned furniture has not been moved in at least five years).
I visibly shuddered at the idea and suggested we just leave things as they are and go to sleep (we didn't sit down in our newly arranged living room until the late, late hours of Sunday night).
I woke up yesterday morning thinking maybe My Son was right. We needed to shake things up a little around here. I left him a note telling him it was purely voluntary ... but if we are going to start shuffling rooms around, the place to start is the basement. If he felt like it, he had full reign to do as he pleased to clear it out.
He helped arrange a steal-of-a-deal for a queen sized mattress for me and it was waiting for me upon my arrival home as well.
He suggested that I start emptying out my room so that I could sleep in my new bed.
The last thing in the world I felt like doing was clearing out my room, vacuuming, dusting, setting up a new bed frame and struggling with a queen sized mattress.
But ... since My Son was busy building this ...
I really had no choice but to follow through on his suggestion.
Much to my chagrin, instead of plunking myself down in our new living room and watching 'Dancing With the Stars' ... I was utilizing my new found packing, lifting and moving muscles once again.
It went fairly well (other than the part where I was supposed to have 12 screws and only had 10; 2 of those, which were stripped; 2 more of which, I could not line up where they were supposed to be).
And last night ... I ended up sleeping in this:
I slept in the lap of luxury last night - complete with 'Egyptian Cotton' sheets. Ohmigosh ... it was heavenly!!!Our Cat found his way into my bed soon after I did last night. I tossed and turned (as I always do) and found that there was ample room for both of us. I think he appreciated the extra room as much as I did.
Yes ... it is a bed fit for queen (and her cat).
And it all started with a spare TV set (and this saga has not ended yet) ...
Monday, May 2, 2011
The Best Mother's Day Ever!
Hey Hallmark, we beat you at your own game. We created a celebration which didn't involve gifts, cards, expectations and hype. We accidentally celebrated Mother's Day a week early. And it was the best Mother's Day I've ever had.
It happened without design or purpose. Every little piece of the day fit together like that of a puzzle. It was picture perfect.
My Second Son caught me just before I ran out the door to buy groceries yesterday morning. He told me that he was cooking breakfast and suggested that the bacon he bought the previous week was 'the best'. So I added that to my list and was off.
I came home to a freshly brewed cup of coffee. It is unfortunate that perishable groceries require immediate attention (and by the time those get put away, why not complete the job??), so I tended to that task ... and folded a load of laundry, talked to my sister and Oldest Son (Middle Son texted his brother to invite him to join us for breakfast while I was out). So my coffee was a little chilled by the time I got to it. But it was there.
My morning plan was to pick up the groceries required to have a BBQ for our Family Supper at the day's end. I had assumed that I would spend the afternoon at My Oldest's new home, helping him clean and unpack. I thought I'd suggest that we christen his new deck and home with our Sunday Supper.
The idea was readily accepted by all. We were talking of this during our family breakfast and as our plan for the day was unfolding to be a family oriented day, I declared "And it's not even Mother's Day!"
I had more errands to run, My Oldest had to tend to some things before he was ready for my Second Son to come over and help him. While my Second Son was in limbo, he called out to his Younger Brother to ask if he'd like to go for a bike ride. All of my boys were busy and I was off to get more groceries.
Before I realized that this was going to be a moving weekend for My Oldest, I committed myself to a few Zumba Parties. I was pleased when the move fell in between the two Zumba classes that I had signed up for, so our plan was to meet over at My Oldest's new home after my Zumba class.
I came home with just enough time to unload groceries and head out to Zumba, as my Two Younger Sons were heading off to their Older Brother's to finish up with the last load to be moved. They would all hang out together at My Oldest's new home until I arrived after my class.
I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face, as I drove to my Zumba Party. My three sons were spending the afternoon together. And I had absolutely nothing to do with it! The afternoon unfolded as easily and naturally as if they had been doing this their whole life.
I knew My Oldest Son's move was the beginning of a new era. But never in a million years did I expect our family to come together as one cohesive unit, as he moved into his new home.
His home has been christened with memories of family leading the way. His Younger brother was ready, willing and able to assist with the move. My Youngest was eager to join us yesterday afternoon even though there was no TV or outside entertainment at his Oldest Brother's new home yet. My involvement started months ago when I started packing up his less-used-items.
Last night, we sat down together and enjoyed the Best Sunday Supper yet. Conversation flowed, laughter came easily and I believe each and every one of us was looking toward our own individual 'future', as well as that of our family.
Now, if that isn't Mother's Day ... I don't know what is!
Thank you, Boys!! Yesterday, you gave me the best gift I could ever receive.
It happened without design or purpose. Every little piece of the day fit together like that of a puzzle. It was picture perfect.
My Second Son caught me just before I ran out the door to buy groceries yesterday morning. He told me that he was cooking breakfast and suggested that the bacon he bought the previous week was 'the best'. So I added that to my list and was off.
I came home to a freshly brewed cup of coffee. It is unfortunate that perishable groceries require immediate attention (and by the time those get put away, why not complete the job??), so I tended to that task ... and folded a load of laundry, talked to my sister and Oldest Son (Middle Son texted his brother to invite him to join us for breakfast while I was out). So my coffee was a little chilled by the time I got to it. But it was there.
My morning plan was to pick up the groceries required to have a BBQ for our Family Supper at the day's end. I had assumed that I would spend the afternoon at My Oldest's new home, helping him clean and unpack. I thought I'd suggest that we christen his new deck and home with our Sunday Supper.
The idea was readily accepted by all. We were talking of this during our family breakfast and as our plan for the day was unfolding to be a family oriented day, I declared "And it's not even Mother's Day!"
I had more errands to run, My Oldest had to tend to some things before he was ready for my Second Son to come over and help him. While my Second Son was in limbo, he called out to his Younger Brother to ask if he'd like to go for a bike ride. All of my boys were busy and I was off to get more groceries.
Before I realized that this was going to be a moving weekend for My Oldest, I committed myself to a few Zumba Parties. I was pleased when the move fell in between the two Zumba classes that I had signed up for, so our plan was to meet over at My Oldest's new home after my Zumba class.
I came home with just enough time to unload groceries and head out to Zumba, as my Two Younger Sons were heading off to their Older Brother's to finish up with the last load to be moved. They would all hang out together at My Oldest's new home until I arrived after my class.
I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face, as I drove to my Zumba Party. My three sons were spending the afternoon together. And I had absolutely nothing to do with it! The afternoon unfolded as easily and naturally as if they had been doing this their whole life.
I knew My Oldest Son's move was the beginning of a new era. But never in a million years did I expect our family to come together as one cohesive unit, as he moved into his new home.
His home has been christened with memories of family leading the way. His Younger brother was ready, willing and able to assist with the move. My Youngest was eager to join us yesterday afternoon even though there was no TV or outside entertainment at his Oldest Brother's new home yet. My involvement started months ago when I started packing up his less-used-items.
Last night, we sat down together and enjoyed the Best Sunday Supper yet. Conversation flowed, laughter came easily and I believe each and every one of us was looking toward our own individual 'future', as well as that of our family.
Now, if that isn't Mother's Day ... I don't know what is!
Thank you, Boys!! Yesterday, you gave me the best gift I could ever receive.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The Best Work Out of All
I have exercised at home to DVD's, worked with my Wii Trainer, joined Bellyfit and Zumba classes and I've even headed myself in the direction of becoming a Group Fitness Instructor.
In all of the years of consciously exercising, walking and keeping active I have built myself up to a place where I normally don't ache after a good work-out. Until yesterday.
Yesterday was a day of lifting, moving and cleaning. Bending, stretching, reaching and lifting worked muscles that haven't been worked in a while.
I think that I should give up the Group Fitness goal and look into a career in the moving and cleaning business.
My body was the best kind of tired last night. This morning, I had no desire to move. But I did.
I feel better than ever!
In all of the years of consciously exercising, walking and keeping active I have built myself up to a place where I normally don't ache after a good work-out. Until yesterday.
Yesterday was a day of lifting, moving and cleaning. Bending, stretching, reaching and lifting worked muscles that haven't been worked in a while.
I think that I should give up the Group Fitness goal and look into a career in the moving and cleaning business.
My body was the best kind of tired last night. This morning, I had no desire to move. But I did.
I feel better than ever!
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