It Was a Very Good Day

I'm back!!!

It started with an innocent "Do you feel like company?" It resulted in invitations to my sisters and my own little family and a delightful afternoon of visiting, barbequing and simply living in the moment. A person could not have planned or hoped for the day to turn out any better.

It was all very impromptu, last moment, low expectations and (as always, it seems) the weather, everyone's plans and all the little details worked themselves out without so much as a wrinkle.

The potato salad had a few kinks in the process. My vacuum cleaner up and quit on me mere minutes before my company arrived. I forgot about the potatoes sitting in the oven that I had prepared. But it all worked out in the end.

Minor details.

All four of us (Mom's family) gathered together the weekend before Mother's Day. This couldn't and wouldn't have happened next weekend. The weekend before Mother's Day was perfect. We were all together. Spouses and a few of our children joined us. It was a prequel to our up and coming family reunion.

It was light and easy in every sense of the word.

I felt Mom in and around and through me in most every moment as this weekend started to unfold.

My brother was coming and as Mom would often say, "I'll just invite a few people in, so he has other men to visit with".

I decided I could and should prepare a potato salad. Mom taught me all her little tips and tricks on making her potato salad and it is one of the very few (if any) things I make without a recipe. She liked her potato salad a certain way and I wondered if mine would measure up to hers (my sister said it tasted like Mom's ... she is very kind that way).

I bought some pre-formed hamburgers and hoped for the best. The "meat and potatoes" part of the meal was always what Mom focused on. I'm not good with meat, but apparently I can buy a pretty good burger. The meat was a success (thanks to my brother-in-law taking over the role of chief cook and barbequer).

I prepared some oven roasted potatoes. I had them sitting and waiting in the oven. All I had to do was remember to turn them on. I forgot. We snacked on them late last night and had them with scrambled eggs and toast this morning. All was not lost, but Mom would have NEVER forgotten to turn on the potatoes!

We indulged in some alcoholic beverages. Just a few. Only before supper. Mom would not have done that but we enjoy having a drink with each other. So we added our own relaxed flavor to our small gathering.

We ended the meal with coffee and dessert. Again, someone told me the coffee was good (people are far too kind to me - I never quite know if they are teasing, faking or if they are telling me the truth, so there is no need to worry about a comment or compliment going to my head).

It seemed everyone had someone to visit with. The male to female ratio and the personalities of those in attendance were pretty close to ideal.

It was relaxed, easy and it all came together without forethought. It just happened.

Our family was reunited one more time. Just because we could. No obligation to be there. The focus was on the present and future.

Life is moving on. This is good. We will continue to unite and reunite as a family without duty or obligation to be there for each other. We simply enjoy each other's company.

We all parted ways, knowing we will be joining together at our family reunion in a few months.

After Mom died, it was "just the four of us" so very much of the time. Conversations, decisions and dealing with all that Mom left behind was a time for family and family alone. It was a special time and we realized as those days were winding to a close, that we would never have "that" again.

It was hard to let that go but it was necessary.

Our family unit is still united but even more importantly, our circle has easily expanded to welcome and include spouses, children and "the future" into the mix.

Not having a spouse or partner may have made me a little more dependent on family than the rest. My siblings were so sensitive to this fact and made so many allowances for me to lean in a little harder and need a little more. At no time did I feel alone. I knew they were all just a phone call or a visit away.

I don't feel as dependent now. This is important and so very necessary.

I don't know how Mom stood so solidly on her own all of those years. I feel so weak standing here in her shadow. But yesterday? I felt the essence of her slip into my every move and decision. I didn't even realize it as it was happening but I recognized it after the fact.

I subconsciously recreated our "last good day" together. It was a day as close to perfect as I could have ever hoped for. We made a potato salad. It was the last thing we did together. Yesterday, I made "her" salad to share with her family.

And it was good. It was very good (if I do say so myself).

I am starting to live in my Field of Dreams once more. "If you invite them, they will come". And they did! I couldn't be more grateful.

2 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours

They say it takes three weeks to form a habit. I was 2 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours into forming a new habit. All it took was a restless night and one (okay, probably at least thirty) potato chips and I broke the habit I was working so hard to maintain.

It sounds simple. I just wanted to stop snacking after supper.

The first few days were the worst. I then discovered falling asleep early helped me past the most challenging hours. I was starting to feel as though I may have this thing licked. I was hours away from completing my challenge of "the first three weeks" into my new non-snacking-after-supper routine.

I often nod off to sleep, only to awaken and feel fully alert for about 93 seconds and fall back into another deep slumber. This cycle of sleep and wakefulness is not new. I have become quite accustomed to it and manage it very well (Netflix accommodates my need to watch something I'm interested in, in order to fall back to sleep).

One night (2 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours into my new no snacking after supper habit), I was going through my regular habit of sleeping, waking, sleeping and waking. Then the phone rang. It was 9:38 p.m., which is also apparently the point of no return when it comes to falling back to sleep.

It was my boss, telling me not to bother coming to work the next morning. They would be having a fire drill in her apartment and the whole process could take a few hours. We would aim for a 1:00 p.m. start time instead ...

After tossing and turning for quite some time after this phone call, I could not shift my attention off the can of Pringles, minding their own business in my closet. The episode of "How I Met Your Mother" did not supercede my interest on those chips.

All I could think of was those chips. Chips. Chips. Chips. Mmmm. Chips. Chips. CHIPS!!!

I gave up. I tried to convince myself that eating in the middle of the night didn't count against my proven track record of 2 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours of not eating after supper.

I showed great restraint. I only ate about a third of the can. Maybe a half. It was dark. I don't know for sure. I simply know I left quite a few in the can.

I woke the next morning and told myself over and over and over again. One time does not a habit break. Just start anew. Carry on from where you left off. You did this for 2 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours. You can do it again. Forgive yourself. Move on. Don't quit!!

Then I worked in the yard for four hours that day. I forgot to eat lunch. I came home from work and I felt like snacking. I knew there was that half a can of opened Pringles. "It's okay. You worked for this. You burned extra calories today. Eat the chips. Go ahead ..."

And I did.

Then came another restless night. We are solving math puzzles at work and I had to leave a job half finished. Again. I woke up and all I could see was spreadsheets, numbers, solutions and problem solving whirling around in my head. Over and over and over. No amount of "How I Met Your Mother" episodes could take my mind off the work I left behind yesterday.

So I did what any rational humanoid who is trying to avoid after supper snacking would do. I opened another can of chips.

I didn't even bother getting out of bed this time. Jet was already cat napping in my favorite TV watching spot on the couch beside me, so I simply plumped my pillows, rolled over my portable end table so it was beside me. And I ate.

And I ate. And I ate. And I ate. I'm pretty sure the Pringles can is no more than a third full this morning. Maybe only a quarter.

Rats!! I thought I had this thing. But I do believe I am back at square one again.

Why do I still have chips in the house you ask? When Mom stopped smoking, she kept a half a pack of cigarettes in the house. She had will power like no one I know. Her thinking may (???) have been "I will never BUY another pack of cigarettes again". She never did. She stopped smoking on January 18, 2003 and never smoked again. We smiled when we came upon her opened package of cigarettes after she died...

Maybe I should leave that opened can of Pringles in my closet. Quietly circle a date on my calendar and bring no attention to it other than an unmarked circle on the calendar.

Perhaps the greatest incentive to not smoke again, was knowing how stale those cigarettes would have been, had Mom decided to light one up after their "best before" date. Mom obviously surpassed the "three week" mark.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Maybe I'll try again. Maybe I won't. But if I can make it past the 2 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours mark, it is my hope that a stale bag of chips will be my salvation.

Except, I did not promise to quit eating chips. I simply wanted to break the habit of eating after supper. Thus, the reason I still sleep with chips in my room. Now maybe THAT is the habit I should work on breaking ... removing temptation from my bedroom closet (my kids honestly thought it was normal to hide store snacks in my room and were amazed when the snacking foods "came out of the closet" and into the open).

The opened can of chips I left on the kitchen counter mysteriously disappeared one day. Maybe SHARING my Pringles is the way to go. If one cannot succeed at complete abstinence, perhaps moderation is worth a shot?

Spring Clean Up (now I'm ready for anything!)

Spring is the time I miss my daycaring role the most. I loved this time of year. The kids were ecstatic to be outside, I would putter in the yard as they played. I would rake a little, fill a garbage bag as I went and bit by bit, a job I somewhat detest was done and I barely even noticed I did it.

Now our yard is an abandoned and desolate space. I openly resent it because it still requires a minimal amount of lawn maintenance and care, even though no one uses it.

I asked my Youngest to start the "spring clean up" by raking up and bagging some leaves. She doesn't believe in doing a job twice, when once will suffice. She suggested we simply wait until the grass needed to be mowed, bag it up then and make one time do both jobs.

That sounded nice in theory. But the fact of the matter is that our windy fall, winter and spring blew leaves from Alberta into our yard (not to mention, those from Manitoba, the U.S. and if there were leaves at the North Pole, I think we may have had those as well).

Surely I jest. But seriously, our yard has never looked worse. I considered hiring someone to do the job for us. We could handle the routine cutting and trimming. But maybe it would be worth it to hire a team to take care of the monumental task of dealing with the aftermath of our melted snow.

But then ... I ended up with an unexpected morning off yesterday.

What happened next, was all because "Jet", our stir crazy little black cat, really REALLY wanted outside. Sure! I could do this. I would take out a cup of coffee and savor the spring day.

I took one step outside and immediately grabbed a rake. I reminisced about the "good old days" while I was daycaring and actually cared about the yard. I would just start the job by raking up the leaves by the garage.

I raked beside the deck and garage. Then I noticed how messy it looked behind the playhouse. Then the sand box. I was hopeful the rest of the yard could be tidied up by running the lawn mower over it. I wheeled the lawnmower into the middle of the yard to allow the sun to warm it up and hopefully help it start up after a long fall, winter and spring of neglect.

While the lawnmower soaked up some rays, I swept up the leaves that had blown into the garage and raked up the mess of leaves beside the driveway. I convinced the lawnmower to start, ran it over the back yard, beside the driveway and cat walk beside us. Then I tried picking up a tree's worth of pine cones in the front yard. The lawnmower was of no help. This was a job for a human with a rake.

I persevered. 

One thing led to another and four hours later, I had amassed six bags of leaves, pinecones, dusty dead grass and pine needles.

After all was said and done, I felt and looked as dirty as the garage floor. A quick shower and I would be on my way to work ...

Then I found a message from my brother. "Would you like company this weekend?", he asked. "Yee haw!" and "Yessiree, Bob!" Not only was the yard ready for company, I would be too. The task of washing my hair would be behind me on a Wednesday and that will carry me through the weekend. Bring on the company!! My laundry day seems to have jumped ahead a day earlier than usual, so laundry is done too. 

I would be raring to go for company Friday night ...

Then I received the terrible news that they will not arrive until Saturday. By supper time. Oh no! There goes all my plans of not having enough time to prepare for company. My definition of "ready" has dwindled to - clean sheets; clean bathroom; clean me; cat hair vacuumed; and a ready supply of coffee & toast. 

Oh dear. A clean yard will not be enough. I have time to buy groceries too...

P.S. Brother, you are MORE than welcome to come out a day early if it works for you! It could save me some work.😏

The Missing Receipt

I forgot to flip the calendar page out of April and into May yesterday morning. As a result, I completely and totally forgot about an appointment I had made for yesterday afternoon until they called me when I didn't arrive. I recognized the number calling me and without realizing what I was doing, I answered the phone with a loud and apologetic "Oh NO!! I am SO sorry!!!!"

I cannot remember the last time I completely forgot I had an appointment. Maybe this was a first? I remember showing up a week early one time ... there are certainly many other examples of my humanness within the recesses of my mind. But I simply cannot remember completely and totally forgetting a commitment of someone else's time. How terribly rude.

This morning, I was taking care of another It's a New Month rituals and proceeded to empty the file folder of cash receipts from the year prior. 

I try to keep track of every cent I spend which results in an accumulation of receipts. Sometimes there is a reason to look back and find something on one of them. The majority of the time there is no need. But this routine of filing receipts and culling them a year later is not new to me. I've done it for years.

I have two months of receipts filed together so when I went to flip through last year's receipts this morning, it resulted in an unintentional walk down memory lane from May and June of last year. I promised myself not to pull out last year's calendar to walk through The Year of Mom again, once we started this new year. I will allow myself to recall and remember. But I will not dig for details. I'm trying to let it go.

So this stroll down memory lane, compliments of old receipts was unexpected and unintentional. 

It is not everyone who can pull up old memories via McDonald's, Dairy Queen and old grocery receipts. I can remember the taste, smell and moment I was in by finding those old receipts.

The McDonald's receipt with a "plain hamburger; no salt" took me back to the time I took Mom's friend out for supper and quite accidentally ended up meeting up with my brother while we were there.

Another McDonald's receipt for fries and coffee reminded me of Mom's insistence to get "REGULAR coffee" and to heck with the decaf.

The early morning breakfasts I picked up enroute to Mom's ...

The receipt for drumsticks, along with the memory of Mom gently telling me the next time I came out, "No more drumsticks. Please."  

Food triggers so many little memories. Food and visiting go hand in hand. Mom always tried to have our favorite foods on hand when we came to call. 

I will most likely never forget the receipt I should have in my possession. Mom asked me to pick up a thoughtfully chosen assortment of fruit to have on hand, when my nephew and his family had planned to drop by and visit. Mom ended up in the hospital the expected day of their arrival. There was rarely anyone in her home after that point. Yet she continued to ask me, right to the end, "Did you pick up that fruit yet??"

It just dawned on me this morning, that I should have picked up that fruit and brought a fruit platter to her while she was in the hospital. It is doubtful she would have eaten much, but she would have had it on hand to offer her visitors. She always had something to offer her guests, even when her appetite failed her. 

I took that last gift away from her. It is one receipt I will never have and wish I had. Sorry, Mom. 

The Price Tag of Happiness

It feels like a whole new world around here lately. The sun is shining, birds are chirping, the outdoors is beckoning and there is a lightness of spirit which must go hand in hand with the thawing of the snow and arrival of spring.

As I prepared to feel depleted after my one day weekend this weekend past, I was surprised to find energy left over at the end of a rather long and somewhat stressful week. Why??

Is it because I am purging and releasing my thoughts as I write my way through the moment? Maybe. I believe that helps me lighten my load and bring focus to "the other side of the story".

Is it because I am facing up to the more challenging times the best way I know how? Yes, I truly believe putting either a voice or acting on what is most worrisome keeps life in perspective.

Is it because my senses are heightened and I am focusing on what is in front of me instead of what is in the past? Definitely. No elaboration required.

Is it because I am worry-free and stress levels are eradicated? In a word? No.

Is it because my financial state of affairs are in order and there is a little leeway in the budget? Delightfully, I believe this does add a little spring to my step. Let me tell you why.

I found myself waiting in the cat aisle at WalMart the other day, as a most helpful WalMart employee volunteered to find out if there was a bag of our cat's "sensitive stomach" cat food somewhere else in the store.

Not only was I duly impressed by this employee who was so willing to please, I had time to peruse the cat-toy section beside the cat food. I spied an assortment of cat toys which contained a few of our cat's favorite things. Some "sparkly balls" and some toys which contained cat nip. The price tag was $3.97 and I was feeling rich. Before I left the cat section of the store, I whimsically tossed this little cat treat into the cart and carried on my way.

I came home to find my youngest in our back yard with our cats. The cats were overjoyed to be outside, the weather was perfect and as soon as I put away my purchases, I couldn't wait to sit down and savor the moments with the family I have left at home.

I tossed the cat toys into the cat toy drawer, where my youngest has fashioned a way for "Jet" (our younger cat who gets bored very easily and seems to thrive on ways to challenge himself) to open the drawer by himself, then help himself to the cat toy of his choice. I thought finding the new toys I bought would be a happy surprise for another day.

After spending an hour outside, one would assume our cats would be satisfied and content to simply come back inside, wash up, have a drink, simply relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. One would be wrong.

Jet walked inside and must have immediately picked up the scent of fresh, new cat toys. He opened the cat drawer, checked out the selection of toys and immediately took off with one of the brand new sparkly balls (his personal favorite).

Ray is more of a "cat nip" kind of guy. His interest was piqued by Jet's ability to open their drawer and he too, did a little shopping and popped out of the drawer with a new cat nip mouse in tow.

We sat back and watched our cats enjoy their new toys. It felt like Christmas. It was a perfect end to a perfect day.

Yesterday morning, I found myself in the Dollarama with a little bit of extra time and money on my hands. Why I gravitated towards the cat aisle, I will never know. But I found myself picking out a new toy I thought our cats would enjoy. Four small yarn pom poms for $1.50. I couldn't wait to see their reaction. They did not disappoint.

Spring is a time when I miss my daycare days. Days of breathing in fresh air, going for walks, spotting robins and revelling in all the long forgotten outside toys and spending hours in our back yard. I miss scouring the toy aisles for new and exciting toys for my little daycare crowd. Just like Jet, they too could sniff out something new in the house and would be immediately attracted to the sparkly new toys.

That is where the difference ends.

Our cats don't argue about the new toys. They each pick their favorite, respect the other guy's choice and find a way to get along.

Or, in Ray's case, he batted one of the new pom poms under the cupboard that Jet can no longer squeeze under. Knowing that toy is tucked away for later use, he can simply lay back and enjoy the morning.

They say money can't buy happiness, but I disagree. For the price tag of $5.47 (plus tax), I bought a whole lot of happy.

I Feel Your Pain, Little One...

Things have been getting a little too serious around here lately. It is time to change the channel on that line of thinking. The time has come to smile and think light thoughts. It is time to switch over to the Cat Channel within life as I know it.

Let me start with a little introduction to when we adopted our youngest cat "Jet". We went to the SPCA to window shop for a dog. Our most special little cat, Andre, had died a few months prior. We were not looking for a replacement. We were craving a new chapter. We considered and wondered if we could become "dog people".

Long story short, we came home with a little black cat who mirrored Andre's size, mannerisms and looks. This little black fur ball literally reached out to us and climbed from one set of arms to the next. Just like when a baby holds out their arms when they want to be held by a person who is not holding them.

Jet's first day with us - look at that smug expression on his face. He has played his humans well.
Life is about to get interesting...

Spoiler alert. Jet just wanted out of that cage. He is a master at recognizing human's weaknesses and preying on them. He took one look at my youngest, reached out from the bars that were containing him and tapped her on the shoulder.

We have never looked back.

We brought our new little black kitty into our home. "Ray" (our senior cat in residence) didn't blink an eye when this Andre impostor walked out of the cat carrier and started to investigate his new surroundings. Jet fit into Andre's cat harness like a glove. Andre was a petite black cat and when Jet fit perfectly into Andre's personal harness, it was like finding the missing piece to a puzzle. Our family was complete.

Ray and Jet meet

Jet fit into our home like he was custom made for us. We saw Andre's spirit within him and it was like living with a youthful, healthy version of our precious Andre.

Jet, in Andre's cat harness (he got into some white paint - just a taste of what was yet to come)

Okay. Now you know the beginning of my tale. When Jet moved in with us, he was a small cat. He weighed somewhere in and around nine to ten pounds. We were told he was an adult. I now believe he was only a teen. Because he grew.

Jet is growing comfortable with us and letting us know his "true self"

The last time we weighed our twin black cats, Jet had caught up to Ray in size and weight. They both weighed in at the exact same weight of 12 (point something, I think) pounds.

Our "Black Twin Towers"

I often call them our "twin towers" as they mirror each other's pose even when they are not looking at each other.

Enjoying the only dry spot they can find, after making a "cat escape" from the house

Bird watching in tandem

I believe the last time we weighed both cats was late fall. Perhaps early winter. It doesn't really matter except to drive home the fact that it was after they had become house bound this past winter. Jet likes to jump our fence and make daring escapes into our neighbor's yard. So it is important to remember that Jet was a lithe, lean athletic machine the last time we were outside.

Fast forward to this spring.

Our snow finally melted and we made our first foray onto our deck and Jet came out to join us last weekend. My Middle Son (who has two lean cat specimens of his own) picked up Jet and immediately asked how much he weighed. He was HUGE in comparison to their cats. We weighed both Ray and Jet shortly thereafter. Ray still weighed in at a stable 12.2 pounds. Jet however, tipped the scale at 15.4 pounds. Astounding.

We didn't really think of it again until Jet decided he needed to catch a bird and was ready to make a break from our yard. He bounded for the fence and missed his target by a mile. His jumping abilities hadn't quite adapted to his 25% weight gain.

A picture from the archives, showing our 6 ft fence that Jet cannot presently scale

I then recalled how Ray is now the only cat who will retrieve a toy from underneath the cabinet in our living room. I saw Jet try a while ago but he backed up when he couldn't get past his shoulders.

Just as I finished writing this, Ray snuck under the cabinet for a little "alone time" from Jet
(can these guys read minds?!?)

We all think this is pretty funny as Jet tries to adapt his inner image of himself to his present day body and weight size. Then I took a good, hard look at myself. I too, have packed on some extra poundage. I'm not squeezing through narrow aisle ways quite the way I once did either. I am not one to laugh.

Jet, I feel your pain. You feel the same on the inside but the image in the mirror isn't quite the same as it used to be. Do we adapt? Or do we diet?

I believe Jet is saying "We adapt. I didn't really want under there anyway."

It's All Going to Be Okay. Again.

Here I go again. Rinse and repeat. It is Friday all over again. Except it is Saturday. I have offered to work at my bookkeeping job today. I have an early Monday morning appointment, followed by a Monday filled with commitments. I have re-created the "one day weekend". Again.

I shake my head in wonder. Why do I keep doing this? Here I go again. Recreating the scarcity of down-time I am accustomed to feeling. Except ...

Except it feels different this time.

I am revelling in the fact that I have the energy to make these offers without feeling the deep, sinking feeling that I am depriving myself of oxygen at the same time. I CAN do this.

Accomplishment, commitment and issuing invitations are breathing life into me again. The very thing that has brought me to my knees all winter long is finally revitalizing me. Again.

Life has come full circle one more time. This keeps happening. The ups, the downs, the highs, the lows, the energy, the depletion, the ability to say "yes" to life and the ache of having to be sociable.

This past winter felt endless. As did my cycle downward. I thought this may be the time I just stayed "down". It felt safe and comfortable and easy down there. I've dabbled in the state of feeling depressed before but I never got this comfortable with it.

It scared me a little bit. Enough, that I have made an appointment to talk to someone about this. I was on a waiting list all winter. And now, just as I am climbing my way out and out of this little funk of mine, my name is at the top of the list.

Part of me wonders if there is any sense in going now that I feel "healed" and over the worst of this. The analytical part of me is saying, "Go anyway! You need a road map to follow for the next time. Because there is always a next time. Always."

I have gone back and reread some of what I have written throughout the years. This cycle is not new. I have always had a life which seemed to go from extreme highs to extreme lows. Then life seemed to even itself out and those "mountains and abysses" I battled in my younger years became "hills and valleys". I recognized the cycles, appreciated the fact that my highs were lower and my lows were higher and assumed this was one more benefit to aging. The emotions of life were just "hilly" and easier to navigate as I became older and wiser.

Then came last winter.

It was a tough one. I can write about it now because I've climbed upward and I'm enjoying the view from the plateau I've hit. I'm simply sitting here appreciating the view and resting. There is more of the mountain to climb but I have little desire to climb higher. The higher one climbs, the further one has to fall.

Besides, my feet are sore. I need to rest and repair my mode of transportation before I ascend any further. Then perhaps, I could even dance again ...

Yes, I have an appointment with a podiatrist on Monday, followed by an appointment with a counsellor on Tuesday. I may have a little more climbing to do.

One step at a time. I am doing just fine exactly where I am. Life has been very good at doling out exactly what I need, when I am ready to accept it. It's all going to be okay. It always is.