Category: Everyday Life

Do you ever have one of those days that just never seems to end?  Yesterday was like that for me.

My day started in the dentist chair at 7:00 AM having my “clown” delivery. (In case you missed my earlier blog when I rescheduled this appointment from last week when I was under the weather (literally), I told the receptionist I needed to reschedule my clown appointment versus crown.)  So, I spent about half and hour there with the ever chipper, Dr. Brooke Flaherty, chatting about kids, diets and snow as she placed my new gold crown on my last remaining “uncoronated”  back molar.  I was already dressed for the gym which was the next stop on my agenda.  Since the appointment took less time than I’d anticipated, I was able to stop by the house to kiss Dave on his way out the door to the dentist and have a cup of coffee before I headed off for my workout.

A combination of illness and bad weather has curtailed my workout sessions with Lorenzo quite a bit these past few weeks so I’m probably not in as prime a shape as I was last month.  Yesterday’s routine of lunges, squats and step-ups with a bar bell across my back followed by ab-work, curls, flies and push-ups really did me in.  (I’m feeling a bit of it this morning.)  Nonetheless, my day was far from over.

For my next trick, I drove off to the church to help clear out a room in the hall that has been used as a repository for miscellaneous items or in other words; a junk room. As I walked into the hall, I noticed yellow crocuses peaking out from the snow.  I took a minute to admire them at snap a photo.  If they could manage to look so cheery in such harsh surroundings, I suppose I could give it a try as well and keep moving.

For the next three hours, four of us worked for a good three hours moving furniture and cleaning.  Our goal was to clean this room out and make it the new office so that the current office could be remodeled into a private quarters for our new priest, giving him a place to stay on the evenings he doesn’t choose to schlep over the mountain back to the rectory.   We made great headway and I was ready to continue when I looked at my watch and realized that if I didn’t get home soon I would miss seeing Dave before he left on an overnight trip.  I headed home again.

I was able to spend a few minutes with my honey before he left and then headed for the Foodlion to get a few things I needed to prepare dinner for neighbors down the street who just had a new baby.  My dinner isn’t expected until this evening, so thankfully, I didn’t have to do any cooking.  Instead, I spent more than a few minutes putting the finishing touches on my guest rooms in preparation for my friend D.J. and her daughter, Bree who were spending the night with me.  Bree had an appointment for a tour of UVA this morning.

About four o’clock D.J. called to say they would be delayed and wouldn’t arrive until later in the evening.  In need of some “me” time, I broke all the rules and had a dinner of popcorn (from the popper, not microwave) and ice cream and ate it watching a “Tonight Show” I’d recorded earlier in the week.  Junk food and Jimmy Fallon; life doesn’t get more decadent than that for me!  After my “meal”, I showered and changed for Mass and then left the neighborhood for the fifth time in one day.

When I got home from church, I had a text from D.J .saying their ETA as 9:30 so I sat and vegged with my feet up.  I’d been up since 5:30; my back ached and I was beat.  About 9:45 I became aware of a buzzing sound near me and not so quickly realized that my phone was vibrating.  I’d forgotten to turn the ringer back on after church.  It was D.J.  She said they’d turned into the snow down the street and the car wouldn’t move.  They were stuck in the mud.  I told her not to worry, I’d be right there.  She was literally only about 100 yards away.  After I hung up, as I was pulling my on my boots, I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do to help her especially since Dave was out-of-town.  I did the only thing I knew to do; I called a friend.

Fortunately Angela was still awake when I called and a few minute later, I was parked in her driveway as she came out her front door armed with cat litter and a flashlight.  We drove down to the end of the street and sure enough, there was D.J.’s Caravan sitting in the middle of the soggy yard on the corner.  With Angela’s light we were able to see just how deeply the front tires were dug into the mud.  With her scoop, Angela piled kitty litter both in front and behind the front tires.  Then we had D.J. alternate between forward and reverse, turning the wheel back and forth but the tires just dug in deeper.

Feeling a need for reinforcements, Angela called her husband, Clark to come see if his brawn could supplement our brains.  A few minutes later, a rather grumpy man arrived on scene and after a quick assessment with the flashlight, determined there was nothing he could do and it would be best to call for roadside assistance.  We were all cold, tired and frustrated so after putting a note on the car, D.J. and Bree grabbed their bags and got into my car to ride back to the house.  Angela rode back with Clark.

Back at the house I called the sheriff’s office to let them know about the car in the yard (since the home owners weren’t home) and D.J. called for a tow in the morning.  Then we relaxed and talked until almost midnight.

I was up early again this morning.  Even though Dave was gone and his alarm didn’t go off, Izzie was still here and ready to eat at sunrise.  Thinking it would be nice to prepare breakfast for my guests, I gave in to one of her early parades across my face and got myself up to make coffee, feed the cat and get breakfast underway.

When I went upstairs to let the ladies know I had warm food waiting, D.J. met me at the top of the stairs with a very dark expression on her face.  Apparently there had been a mix up and the tow truck would not be arriving for another two hours!  I suggested we give another try to getting her car out ourselves.  The ground had become cold and hard overnight and that might work to our advantage.  I threw on my clothes and we drove off to the end of the street.

In daylight, the red Caravan looked rather silly sitting in the middle of the yard at the end of the street.  Anyone driving by would truly be stymied to even imagine what circumstances would cause it to be there.  Perhaps a deer ran in front of the car? Possible.  Ice?  Nope, it was way too warm for that.  Hmmmm?

Regardless of what others may have thought, we were hopeful as we stepped onto the firm frozen ground.  Before we started I suggested we say a little prayer.  D.J. prayed for God’s help and I added we would still love Him even if He decided it was best for us to wait for the tow truck and then she climbed in to the driver’s seat.

Alternating between drive and reverse and turning the wheel slightly from left to right, the front tires eventually caught and crawled out of the frozen muddy hole.   Triumphantly D.J. drove across the remaining bit of lawn to the driveway and then followed me back home where she called to cancel her service call.

We had a nice breakfast and soon she and Bree were off to UVA to begin another adventure.  As for me, after I finish my story, I will begin preparing the meal for the family down the street with the new baby, catch up on my email and God willing, catch a nap sometime this afternoon.  Since my “retirement” from full time employment, these types of days are more and more becoming my norm.  Depending on my list of tasks, they can be draining or exhilarating.  At least for the time being, I’m going to keep my mind’s eye focused on that little yellow flower, sharing its color despite the snow.

 

This morning as I lay partly snuggled in my bed; one leg under the covers, one on top as I rode the wave of a hot flash, I could hear the flapping of one of the shutters outside my window as the wind whipped at it.  Looking back on the day before as we delighted in bright yellow crocuses welcoming us to church and then later ran our errands in light jackets, it seemed nightmarish to even consider that we would again wake up to first sleet and freezing rain and then more of the fluffy white stuff.  And yet, we were.

As if the National Weather Service had actually scheduled the course of events, the freezing rain began last night and promptly turned to snow at 7:00 AM as predicted.  It’s not a pretty snow.  With the wind blowing tiny flakes in all directions and the sky almost the same color as the already blanketed ground, there is nothing inviting about it at all.  Our plans and regular activities are at the mercy of the weather and totally out of our control again.  How annoying!

This has been a very long winter.  I hope we’re experiencing its last gasp today!

 

 

I hate feeling sick. I started sneezing last Thursday hoping I was just reacting to flying dust particles in the air. By Friday it was clear that I was cooking something more acute than occasional nasal irritation.

So, I spent the warmest, sunniest weekend we’ve had in months flat on the couch, sneezing, blowing my nose and feeling down right crappy. My horizontal time on the couch extended into Monday and I’m beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

This morning I got myself up and moving, showered the sick from my body, styled my hair and drove myself the the auto dealer for my car’s first oil change and tire rotation. To the unknowing, I appear reasonably healthy with my tinted CC cream evening my skin tones and the slightest brush of blush adding a hint of color to my cheeks. The dripping in my nose has sub- sided which as it turns out is a very good thing since I neglected to grab a handful of tissues before I left the house and I am now relying on a wad of “borrowed” toilet tissue from the ladies’ room.

A few minutes ago I called the my dentist to cancel my afternoon appointment. I told the receptionist that I didn’t think I could keep my mouth open long enough without coughing or sneezing for the dentist to deliver my “clown”! My head is so fuzzy. Being sick just plain sucks the joy from my day.

Yeah, they’re calling my name, my car is ready. Off to Kroger to fill the cupboards. I hope I feel better tomorrow .

When we moved up here a couple of years ago I was excited at the prospect of enjoying a more pronounced seasonal change; summers would be a bit shorter, fall and spring a bit longer and winter would provide more snow than we were accustomed to in Virginia Beach.  Our first winter here I hastily purchased a snow-blower to move these large quantities of snow from our sixty foot drive.  Sadly, it sat unused the first winter and only once the second.  The rest of the year it sat in the back of the garage taking up floor space and I felt like a dope for having bought the thing in the first place.  For the past few winters, our shovels have been all we’ve needed to clear things up until the sun could do the rest.

This winter has been very different from our first two.  In fact, the children here in Greene County have had so many days off from school due to snowy and icy roads that they won’t even have to make them all up.  If there is one thing I am thankful for this year is that I don’t have one of those little people around my house to keep entertained day after day of confinement.  Sometimes it’s challenging enough just having Dave working from home!  Most of the storms we’ve had haven’t really provided so much precipitation as just plain frigid temperatures, keeping what little ice there is intact on the country roads.  Last night was different.

For the past week we’ve been warned that a big storm was coming with expected accumulations of between ten and sixteen inches of snow.  Yeah right!  As of six last night we had just the smallest flurry of flakes in the air.  Our first hint that something was headed our way was when we sat down to watch the Duke/ UNC game and learned it had been postponed because the roads between Durham and Chapel Hill were impassable.  Hmmm.  When I went to bed, there was maybe an inch of snow on the deck.  Not very impressive, but it was still snowing.

When I woke up this morning, I made a bee line to the window to check things out.  Even in the predawn light, it was evident that a major amount of snow had fallen overnight blanketing everything and hiding all evidence of property lines, driveways and the street.  I could just barely make out the tops of the solar lights lining the front walk, a couple of them were even still glowing from under their snowy cover.

Unlike past snowfalls, I didn’t run for my camera.  I’m really sort of over the whole “isn’t it beautiful?” thing.  Yes it’s pretty but it is also cold, wet and heavy and a great deal of it needed to be removed from my driveway.  At this point I’m just too over it all to wax poetically, reminiscing about snow angels and tobogganing.  I just want it to go away for a long while.

So after finishing my second cup of coffee I geared up and went out to the garage to begin the job of snow removal.  As the door went up I knew my job was going to be tough because there the snow had blown against the door leaving a wall of about fifteen inches of snow.  It took me a few minutes to remind myself how to start the snow blower; first trying to pull the cord and then finally finding the red “start” button.  I gave it a push, held it for five seconds and I was in business.

It was really difficult at first, the snow was deeper than the blower was high but I eventually figured out a way to make it work and began to work my way up and down the driveway, shooting snow off onto the lawn and feeling rather proud of myself for having made such a wise investment.  About half an hour later Dave joined me (he’d been on a business call earlier) and began shoveling.  After a while we traded tools and in less than an hour we had the drive and walk cleared.

I came inside and sitting on the garage steps struggled to get my tall rubber boots off and noticed how wet my jeans and gloves were.  I began pealing off my layers of wet clothing and felt my hair.  Ooooow.  I looked in the mirror and saw what I looked like, the lenses in my glasses were still darkened from the bright light outside and my hair was wet and tangled.  This was the picture I wanted to take.  In an age of “selfies” I wanted to share the real me today; in the winter of my discontent.

 

Last Friday morning I was supposed to take Kayla and Allie on their last ride to the Humane Society.  Having had some time to heal following their spaying, it was time to take them back so they could travel to Northern Virginia for an adoption event.  The day before I’d suffered more than a few weepy moments as I looked forward to saying goodbye to these little characters I’ve nurtured and cared for these past several weeks.  So deep was my sorrow that I experienced a heart wrenching sobbing jag like I haven’t had in years.  It must have been what I needed because by the time I was ready to put them in the car the following morning at 7:30, I was as prepared as I was going to be.  I took a deep breath and backed out of the driveway.

The drive to the Humane Society is truly awesome, not in a “hey dude” sort of way, but in the traditional, spiritual way.  Driving west on US Route 33 with the peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the horizon as far north and south as the eye can see, always makes me feel as though I’m driving toward heaven.  Maybe it’s because it’s the route we take to church on Sunday but nevertheless, it is a good reminder than I am never alone.

There were no other cars in the gravel lot when we arrived at the shelter.  I waited a few moments and then got out of the car to peek in the windows but saw no sign of Penny, the caretaker. I thought she came in each morning at 7:30 to feed the cats but given the lack of activity, I guessed I was mistaken.   I saw on the door that they opened at 10:00 that morning so decided to come back a few hours later rather than sit in the cold any longer.  So, off we went, back to the house to set Kayla and Allie loose for a few more hours in the only home they’ve known.  They leaped from their crate, happy to be out of the car and scampered off to find Izzie and Purrl, batting at toys and jumping up and down the furniture on their way.

Too soon it was time to gather them up again. A little before ten I put my charges back in their crate and we were off.  This trip was a little easier, because I’d already survived it once.  As I carried them through the door, I was met by the little girl who cried so hard when I took them home the first home.  She was Penny’s granddaughter, the original Kayla, who had named the kittens after herself and her sister.  I asked her, “Is your name Kayla?”  Shyly she answered yes.  “Guess who I have in this crate?” I asked and then pausing continued, “Kayla and Allie!”

Her eyes opened wide as she carefully approached the crate to peek in.  “Can I hold them?” she asked.  After asking permission from her Grandma Penny, I opened the door and both Kaylas were reunited.  Both were amazed at how large the kittens had grown from the blue-eyed babies into the sleek mini cats they are today.  When I first picked them up little girl Kayla was able to hold both kittens in her lap at one time.  Now she was barely able to hold kitten Kayla’s feet off the ground when draped in her arms.

Once on the floor, Kayla and Allie were ready to go on an adventure and explore the shelter.  They never even looked back to see if I was there.  I was reassured that the transition to a new home wouldn’t be so bad.  I’d done my job well taking two tiny kittens into our home allowing them to grow into well socialized, loving kitties, open to making new friends.   They were ready to leave, whether I was ready to leave them or not.

Then, just moments before I turned and left, I had Penny look at their tummies to make sure they were healed well enough.  Nope, “They won’t pass.” she said,  “We’ll have to keep here another week unless you want to take them home again.”

She didn’t have to ask me twice.  I scooped my little ones back into their crate and took them home.  I’d been given one more week with my babies and wasn’t going to pass it up!

This coming Friday I will load them back up and drive them back towards the mountains to their new lives.  It will be a bittersweet moment to see my little ones go but it is necessary, just like letting my children leave home.  It is their time to go and mine to let them.

Last week was one of those weeks where practically every activity I’m involved in converges into what I will call a “volunteer vortex”.  A volunteer vortex results when the number of commitments you makes to community activities overtakes the ability to keep up with them as well as the requirements of everyday life resulting in your home and family being pushed to the back burner or possibly even never even removed from the refrigerator and put on the stove at all.  Anyone who has experienced this can assure you that it is not a very pleasant state of being.  Instead of being able to enjoy any one moment fully, you have to stay mindful that you’re on a timeline.  In my case, I am left both energized and drained and most of all frustrated that I haven’t learned to keep my commitment more inline with my priorities.

I know, everybody’s busy and I don’t want to play the martyr, listing the variety of activities that occupied my time last week and I wouldn’t want you to think that it was all bad.  In fact,  most of what I did last week was rewarding and recreational. (Including a great haircut so at least I looked good as I hoofed up and down the highway!)   It’s just that there was so much stuff packed into each day that it left little time for me to just be; to so the necessary mental homework associated with my commitments.  And, on a personal note, even though I can’t seem to avoid offering to help people, there is a part of me that really needs quiet time, to connect with my soul and recharge.

So now I’m at a crossroads.  Do I keep going as I have been, with my vortex of activities in all things that interest me or do I step up into a real leadership role in one of them and let some of the others go?

Perhaps it’s the “oldest child” syndrome that drives me to be a constant helper but beyond that, I do enjoy helping.  I have long thought of myself as a professional facilitator; I like to put people in contact with who and what they need to the best of my ability.  I am an idea person; I have pretty decent brainstorming skills and can think so far outside of the box that I forget there is a box.  I look for potential and possibilities in all situations and the silver lining in every cloud.  I’m not afraid of speaking to people I don’t know and public speaking doesn’t scare me too much.  That being said, I don’t think I’m that good of a leader.

Even though I possess the organizational and people skills a leader should have, I still lack the discipline and focus to complete the follow-up tasks.  I’ve stepped into a few leadership roles recently and have done what I would grade as a poor job due to the time crunch and Letting things fall through the cracks is something I can’t abide; especially when I’m the one allowing the falling.  Maybe I’m too afraid of letting people down to take that step; I don’t know.

I do know that I’m going to try to spend some “me” time this week out of the vortex to recharge and reconnect, clean out the frig and pay closer attention to what I’ve got going on the stove already.  Hopefully with a clear head and clean frig I’ll be able to see which path is best for me.

It’s still looking a lot like Christmas here at my house.  No, there isn’t magic filling the air and the morning paper isn’t bursting with ads, but the mantle is still sporting its spray of artificial greenery and the stockings are still hung with no hope of St. Nick’s imminent arrival.  The tree stands by the front windows, looking as pretty as the day we set it up and we still turn the lights on every evening to enjoy its beauty.

Why could this be?  Are we waiting for the return of a deployed family member, keeping things just so to celebrate later on?  No.  Have we been struck down by the flu as we were years ago and have been physically unable to stand long enough to bring in the boxes and take the holiday stuff down and repack it?  No.  Perhaps we are turning into the kind of people who keep their lights up all year round because we’re just too lazy to get to it.  Nope.  What’s really going on is that we’ve just been so busy since the New Year began that we haven’t had a moment we’ve cared to care about packing it all up!

In fact, the reason we only have a mantle to clear and a tree to dismantle is because I never got as far as putting any decorations anywhere else in the house!  Silly me; I thought by putting out less would make for faster clean-up.  Somehow it hasn’t turned out that way and honestly, I don’t care!

Last Saturday Dave and I managed to clean the whole house, top to bottom, put away all the gifts, vacuumed up piles of cat hair and dusted every possible surface.  The kitchen and all three bathrooms were deep cleaned until they downright sparkled.  The only thing we didn’t get to was the Christmas decorations. Oh well, you can’t have everything.