Mondays

I have the luxury of having Mondays off from one of my jobs which allows me to start my work week at 4:00 p.m. on Monday verses 9:30 a.m. Let me tell you, that bonus 6.5 hours is a gift like no other.

Mondays off are not set in stone. My boss is very flexible when I need to take a day off or shift a work day so I do my best to work when she needs me. As a rule, we can make Monday off a reality.

I am just easing into my final hour of my weekend and revelling in a Monday I have most thoroughly enjoyed.

My best weekends are when I park my car Friday night and it doesn't move until I go to work on Monday. I can stay home and waste time like nobody's business. Quiet time + a little puttering + cooking a meal (maybe two) + an ample dose of Netflix + unexpected company and/or phone calls = Perfection

Life has felt somewhat hectic this past short while. My son's play instigated a flurry of company, late hours, extra-curricular conversation and activity which has wiped my energy levels dry. My work week is highly interactive and I recharge my batteries by going home and being silent. I have been talking far too much lately.

My boss and I discussed our upcoming work week on my last day of work last week. Our plan was for me to work today. The very idea of going into work this morning brought me to my knees. So last night, I called and asked if I could work Tuesday through Thursday instead. She agreed.

I felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. I revelled in the last of my conscious hours last night and enjoyed sleeping in this morning, with both cats at my side. I had a leisurely morning and then I did the hardest of things. I left the house.

I have accomplished more in the last four hours, than I have all weekend. A few ready-to-eat meals have been prepared, the lawn is mowed (all I had to do was buy gas for the lawnmower and my son took care of the rest), a broken picture frame has been replaced, the tail end of one hand lotion has been emptied into another, my sister's amended tax form is done and ready to be sent off ... none of these tasks were big. But they just seemed to pile up on me and felt hard.

Energy begets energy. Doing one thing spurs on the energy to do the next. And so on and so forth. I know I feel better when I am on top of the chore list within my little world. Today? I feel like I'm back on top of things again.

Mondays off are one of my most favorite things. I think I'm ready for the week now. 

Turning Back Time - Part II

One last post that honors Mother's Day in the best way I can imagine after being reminded of the story of a brave and honorable mother duck. I wrote this two years ago but the memory is deeply engrained and a story I will not forget:

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 7, 2017

In Memory of a Mother Duck

The wonders of nature have been forefront in my mind this year as I have travelled through the months. I've spent a fair number of miles behind the wheel of my car and the landscape around me has evolved from frozen and white to the various stages of spring. My last trip, Mother Nature was really outdoing herself. The trees had come back to life, the grass in the ditches was waving in the wind and the birds were out in full force.

I love watching the birds. It starts with those V-formations in the sky as the Canadian geese head northward, spotting ducks swimming and diving in the sloughs, the hawks as they soar in the wind and even our hardy birds that weather our Canadian winters seem a little more playful as the summer weather starts to return.

I was on the road bright and early this trip and the birds were out for an early morning stroll across the highway.

I was reminiscing about an unfortunate incident from last year when I was driving home on a busy summer Sunday. I was going highway speed when I noticed something long and low to the ground in the distance. It looked like something akin to a big garbage bag wafting across the highway when I first noticed it. By the time I drove up and saw it was a mother duck and her ducklings crossing the highway, it was too late to do anything about it. I had cars coming up behind me and the only thing I could do was take my foot off the gas and not make any sudden moves.

I felt ill as I looked in my rear view mirror to see the mother duck went down behind me. Her young little family was little more than a blur when the next round of cars came upon them as quickly as I had. The feeling and visual of that little duck family is still vivid in my mind a year later.

I was thinking of this little family on my quiet morning highway drive when I noticed something on the highway ahead. Having the highway to myself, I had the luxury of slowing down before I approached whatever it was. Sure enough, it was a pair of ducks. Two adults this time. They were walking along the highway in the lane I wasn't in, so I had the opportunity to appreciate them as I coasted past them. As I got close to them, they simply flew away. They flew.

Yes, of course! Ducks can fly. When these two adult ducks had no one else to consider but themselves, they simply flew away. My mother duck from last year didn't fly away. She didn't abandon her family to save herself. She stayed where she was, at the head of the line of her family and "took the hit". She sacrificed herself for her children.

At no point since my duck accident last year, did I even consider the fact that the mother duck could have flown away the moment she realized her life was in jeopardy. It never even dawned on me. Until these two adult ducks, without a family in tow, simply flew away when I got too close.

I was still in awe of the wonder of "motherhood" in all shapes and forms when I saw something off in the distance. This time, it was a goose family. They are taller and stand out much better than a low lying duck does and this time I (once again) had the luxury of a quiet highway to slow my pace and even brake as I got closer.

A mother goose, four little goslings and a father goose bringing up the rear crossed the highway safely. When they had made it to safety and I drove past, the father lifted his wings and swooped up off the ground in what I feel was a "thank you wave".

I may not have realized what was on the horizon if it had not been for that mother duck and her duckings last year. The mother duck who lost her life for the love of her family last year has made a lasting impact within me.

I think of that mother duck often. I still quietly mourn the loss of her and her family. If only she had known not to cross the highway during peak hours, she may have been saved.

She did not die in vain. A mother will literally take a bullet to save her child. Whether they are human or a bird or many other living creatures.

I was telling my mom this story and we both marvelled at the wonder of motherhood. As our visit progressed, we started talking of mother cats and Mom mentioned that the tom cats will kill the kittens. "Once the mother has kittens, she will have nothing to do with the male so the tom will try to kill the kittens to get her attention again." "Hmmm..." I replied. "I'm even more like a cat than I realized."

I think I'd rather think like a duck.

If I Could Turn Back Time

I have been watching for rabbits, hoping to spot one, ever wishful to cross paths with a baby rabbit. Rabbit watching is one of my favorite things and I am always pleasantly surprised when a rabbit shows itself in my presence.

I was driving home from the final performance of my son's play. I have spotted rabbits on several occasions on the University grounds. I was watching.

As we drove through the winding roads to our destination, there were more Canadian geese than I could count. They respected the rules of the road, as did I, and we just enjoyed a small piece of nature as we made our way.

We got there early so went for a walk around the grounds. We didn't stray far (mostly because I was a little unsure of my ability to find my way back to the drama building). I did a little bird watching, marvelled at the blooms on some trees and I hoped and wished to spot a rabbit.

We enjoyed our evening and were recapping our interpretations of the diversity of the story lines, the talent and abilities of the students who engineered the entire event. It was a perfect night.

Then, out of nowhere in a momentary flash my dream came true. I didn't spot them until it was almost too late. Two baby bunnies sitting on the boulevard. I didn't have time to think, to brake, to stop or do anything to stop and simply take in the momentary flash of a baby rabbit sighting.

I drove past. In that very moment the rabbits fled. I couldn't see where they went until I heard it under my rear tire. I ran over a baby rabbit.

My heart sunk as low as it could go. My wish was granted and I wasn't going slow enough to stop and savor the moment.

As the highlight reel of my life passes through my mind, this will be a moment I will forever regret. This moment and the time I hit a mother duck on the highway. This time was worse, because this time I had time to stop.

If I could only turn back time. I would rewind the tape, stop the car and simply soak up the miracle of spotting a baby bunny. It would have been the perfect end to an otherwise perfect evening.

Just Another Day

It's Mother's Day. So many wistful thoughts are floating through my mind.

Mom, of course I'm thinking of you but that is not unusual. I don't think of you any more or any less because of a date or Hallmark occasion. I think of you because you are, always have been and always will be my mom. You are interwoven within my genes, my heart, my soul, my thoughts, my past, my present and my future. I am grateful.

I think very little of my label as "Mom" on Mother's Day because, as it is with how I feel about Mom, it is how I feel about being a mom. I don't think of the role I play within my children's lives any more or any less because of a certain date on the calendar. I think of my children because they are a part of me, my past, my present and future. They carry a part of me within them and I hope and pray it is "enough".

I like to celebrate the moments as they unfold in life. Unchoreographed, unexpected, spur of the moment little nothings that all add up to something larger than life.

As I have leafed through the decades of cards, letters, small gifts and little nothings I gave to Mom over the years, I am grateful for the reminder that as a daughter I did my best. I think it was enough.

When I sit still with my memories of Mom, of being a mom and thinking of those who are missing their mom I hope others find serenity within their day as wistful thoughts waft through their mind.

I am grateful for all the occasions that feel like Mother's Day despite what the calendar says. I am blessed to have such a collection of such memories.

Any day is Mother's Day in my little world. May you find peace within your day, any day. Let the good stuff sift to the top and lose yourself in the moments as they unfold.

Wafting Back Down to Earth

I am sitting back and wafting back down to earth after a most excellent Sister Sleepover here last night.

The catalyst for this unexpected treat was my Youngest Son's acting debut performance. We attended this grand event and were impressed by the raw talent of a showcase of university students who took care of absolutely every aspect of the four, one-act plays which unfolded before us.

This is the first time I have seen my son perform in many years and my heart soared as I watched the way he portrayed and embodied the soul of his character with (what appeared to be) such ease. He told me he played the protagonist in the story but [typical "mother" statement forthcoming], I saw him as a "good and loyal soldier", who was simply following the orders of some unnamed "Führer" at the end of the Second World War.

Watching the metamorphosis of my son as he pursues his passion with his entire being has been something to behold. I hope this is just a beginning for him ...

We all came home and enjoyed a relaxed visit as we wound down the day with drinks and nachos. Good company, good munching food and a beverage of our choosing made for a most excellent wind down to the day.

I slept sounder than I have slept for a while. It was a purely blissful feeling, sharing a roof with my sisters only a few steps away. I felt as safe and secure as I did as a child, when my older sisters watched over me and guided me through my early childhood.

Then came the awakening. The sun rose and ushered in a new day. I exchanged days off so I could enjoy a leisurely morning with my sisters and it was one of the smartest moves I've made in a while.

We chatted lightly about everything and anything. I was sitting in a kitchen chair that gave me a perfect view of a pencil drawing of my childhood home. The only home I shared with my sisters before they grew up, got married and we moved out of the province.

The only home where all four of "us kids" lived together before everyone moved on and out of that house and into the next phase of "life"

Wisps of feelings, memories and a desire to turn back the clock just to hear their side of those memories was warm and comforting. We spoke of Mom, we guessed at what she would say to various current events going on within our families. We spoke the language of family. Simply sitting back and being a part of the dialogue felt like a bear hug to my soul.

I've been struggling lately. I confessed my reality to my sisters and they listened with their whole heart. I felt like we had turned back the clock to a different time and place when they were there to walk with me through some of the biggest changes in my life.

I've been here before.

I've been feeling Mom's presence so strongly lately. Not in a Twilight Zone kind of way. Just within my heart, my soul and my entire being. Mom would be so relieved to know our sister status remains strong and true. Mom's words keep coming out in the voice of others...

I hear you, Mom. I heard you then and I hear you now. Something's gotta change.

Life As it Is (a story about cat hair)

This is a boring little story about laminate, cats and cat hair. Feel free to stop reading now. I don't feel a life lesson or moral to the story coming on so this may very well be a waste of words.

Anyway ...

I have been diligently waging a daily war on cat hair around here since the dust has settled on our new laminate. It is a thankless task and I weigh the pros and cons of laminate verses wall-to-wall carpeting on a regular basis.

My new routine consists of vacuuming and/or wet mopping the laminate daily. There is no satisfaction of freshly vacuumed lines on a pile carpet or the tinkle of debris finding its way up the vacuum cleaner hose (except for the time I accidentally vacuumed up a cat toy when I intended to push it aside with the vacuum attachment).

My black socks are a cat hair magnet so that is the ruler I use to see how I'm doing in this fight against cat hair. It could be better. It could be worse.

Fast forward to yesterday morning. I decided I would just mop down the floors instead of vacuuming. When I vacuum, I blindly vacuum under my bed and hope for the best. Yesterday before I mopped under my bed I took a peek under first and discovered some cat vomit (I warned you ... you had every chance to stop reading before you got here). I smiled and reassured myself that laminate was definitely the best choice in flooring as I proceeded to clean the cat-mess.

I had to sprawl out and I was lying flat out on the floor. I was fully committed to the task at hand and I was on the floor from elbows to my ankles.

I cleaned up the mess then checked myself out for cat hair. I was prepared to find myself looking like Big Foot's mother. I scanned myself for cat fur and was delighted to find I came out of the full on floor sprawl with minimal hair attached to my being in the aftermath.

Cleaning invisible dirt isn't fun. But in this war against cat hair, I think I scored a point yesterday. The laminate definitely inched ahead in the competition against carpeting.

I complain of all these mundane things but in reality I am over-the-moon grateful for these petty little annoyances. I adore these furry little black cats and all their hair. I am so grateful our carpeting has been replaced by wall-to-wall, fully washable flooring. I love the way I feel when I walk through our home, cat hair and all. I enjoy knowing the house is as clean as it is.

It could be better. It could be worse. I'm simply grateful for life as it is.

What If ...

What if that which you were complaining about the most was gone in an instant? No warning. No time to prep. Simply "poof"! And it was gone ...

Discontentment on the job? What if one arrived to work one morning and you were greeted with your final pay cheque and the statement, "We no longer require your services"? The end.

A child who was causing grief, worry, anxiety and general overall frustration? What if they were in a car accident and didn't survive? Your worries would be replaced by grief (and very likely a good dose of guilt).

A marriage/relationship that you couldn't see your way out of? What if they walked out the door and never came back? No room for discussion. Over.

Never ending maintenance on your home? What if it burned to the ground, taking all your worldly possessions (and maybe a cat or two) with it. No more maintenance required.

Speaking of cats, what about the (seemingly) infinite amount of cat hair you cannot keep on top of? What if the cat(s) died? Sure, you'd have cat hair for a while but wouldn't you feel completely different about knowing it was the last of its kind? No more cat = no more cat hair.

You can't find what you are looking for in a grocery store? What if the suppliers stopped supplying their wares and there was a shortage or rations over what was available to purchase?

The price of gas is soaring? What if that gas wasn't even available?

You wake up with a crick in your neck or back? What if you woke up in the morning and couldn't get out of bed?

A bad hair day? What if your hair started falling out and never grew back?

A disrupted nights sleep because of an excessive amount of noise? What if you couldn't hear?

I sit here and think of all the minor things which have been taking up valuable real estate in my mind and I can talk myself down off of every cliff if I think of of I ask myself the question: "What if this problem was taken away from me without warning?"

I had a very restless sleep last night. I kept waking up. I kept turning on Greys Anatomy to turn off my thoughts and tune into a fictional story line. I kept waking up. I kept turning on Greys.

I didn't have the ability to stay awake more than a minute and a half before I fell back into a light slumber so I kept rewinding and replaying the same episode. It was the episode where the hospital was in danger of being sold for scrap and the entire staff would be laid off. If that deal fell through "There would be no money for payroll ..."

It was like I was hit by a truck right in my own bed. What if I walked into work and was told exactly that fact. What if I was told "Effective immediately, your services are no longer required because [insert any reason here]"?

I woke up and my thoughts immediately went to the list of exterior house maintenance I am having taken care of this year. I have fast forwarded my cash flow situation so I can look at the long term and plan how to afford this endeavor. The ability to plan relies solely on the fact that I earn not only one pay cheque, but two. If my income was slashed in half, I may have half the stress I'm currently contending with but it would be replaced by new worries.

Would I rather adapt to the conditions in which I'm presently living with? Or start from scratch and be faced with an entirely unexpected set of troubles?

It happens every day. People get laid off. Accidents happen. People walk away. Houses burn to the ground. Pets die. Good health deteriorates.

We often take what we have for granted. It is good to remind yourself (and by "yourself", I am referring to "me") that things could change in an instant. What if ...