Curmudgeon

Sometimes I think that I am turning into a cranky old lady. Okay, actually I sometimes am a cranky old(ish) lady.

Like when I come home and find these yellow plastic things on both ends of the street where I live and kids playing in the middle of the street.

Don't get me wrong, I like kids, I have kids, I even have grandkids, and I know that kids need to have room to play and run around. Is the middle of the road really the appropriate place?

I find myself saying things like "back when I was a child my mom would have tanned my backside if I had played on the street". Backyards sit empty; front yards sit empty; and kids are playing on the street for goodness sakes. My husband laughs at me when I get like this.

Perception is reality

Yesterday we woke up to very cold winter weather. There was a lot of snow on the ground and the temperature on our car thermometer registered -11F/-24C. Believe me it was C-O-L-D.

Today we're back at home, and the sun is shining and my daffodils are about to bloom. The temperature outside this afternoon was 45F/8C.

What a difference a day makes!

I was thinking about gardening and enjoying the sunshine as I walked the dogs this afternoon. My daughters back in Calgary may have been sitting by a fire with a book not daring to venture outside in the frigid temperature. Some number of years from now if you asked us about February 27, 2009 we would have very different stories to tell about the day. Though our stories would be vastly different, neither of us would be wrong. Though our story would be about the same day, the way that we experienced the day would tell a uniquely different tale.

I suspect it may be the same way with personal memoirs. As I have been thinking about work on my own memoir, I have been wondering about how to reconcile the differences between my own perception of various events and those of others that may be different.

The conclusion I draw today is that my perception is my reality and my memoir is the story of my own perception. That is the reality of the story of my life.

More baby fun

Not getting any writing done, but having lots of fun with the grandkids and treasuring up memories in my heart.

We're here!

We made it! On Sunday we stopped and I was able to have a brief, but wonderful, visit with my BFF before we carried on. After a night spent in a very snowy town, we continued on with the journey. We drove through lots of snow, but the roads were good. I must say, I really don't miss living somewhere where there is snow.
Yesterday afternoon we finally arrived in Calgary where our children and grandchildren live. We spent the afternoon with Laurinda and Makiya, and and dinner with them when Gord arrived home. Makiya is as bee-au-tiful as ever. Perhaps even moreso than when I saw her last!
Off to another wonderful day snuggling babies.

More power in a memoir

I just started rereading The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing by Sharon Lippincott and last night I was struck by the following phrase. "It takes courage to bare your soul for the examination of future generations, and making the effort to share yourself with them is an act of great love."

Working through my writing class in recent weeks, I have found that it also takes courage to bare your soul for examination of the current generation. One of my assignments in particular took courage, not only to write, but also to share, and yet I found healing in myself by sharing it. In writing some things down, there is something amazing that happens as the situation loses it's grip on you and to frees you to move ahead.

Since I finished with that particular piece, my mind has been filled with other stories that I do want to share with future generations. It's almost like a dam has broken free.

For me, writing out that particular incident was in some ways an act of love in that it has allowed me to move on and make progress on that memoir I'm planning. I don't know if I'll ever share that story with anyone else, but in some ways it's the most important thing I've written to date.

Sleep

It is sometimes elusive, but oh so necessary. I am learning to appreciate the blessing of sleep. I've been missing out on some good strong REM time recently, a by-product of being fifty. Unfortunately, I've discovered many things that happen when a woman of my age doesn't sleep.

First and foremost, it can be dangerous to look in the mirror first thing in the morning. I have scared myself almost to the point of heart palpitations recently. It's really not a pretty sight. Puffy eyes, saggy skin....need I go on?!

I was reminded of a post that read on the YOG last year by Kathryn, who is one of the bravest women I know!. Check it out and you'll see what I mean.

The old fifty year old brain doesn't seem to fire on all cylinders when I'm tired either. In my younger days I could fake it somewhat, but that seems to get harder as the year go by as well. I'm also crabby, melancholy and carb craving. A recipe for disaster, to be sure.

For the past couple of nights I've managed to get some good sleep. This morning, I noticed that the woman in the mirror looks remarkably better, and I'm optimistic that my mood will be improved today as well.

That's it. Decision made. No more late nights for this girl. It's best for everyone if I get my REM time.

It's coming

I can feel it getting closer....

When I came out of the office today the sun was still shining and the sky was blue.

There was a car in the parking lot with it's window rolled partway down.

On the way home I saw someone driving a red convertable with the top down.

In my neighborhood there were kids playing outside wearing shorts and sandals.

I can almost taste spring...!

Carpe diem

It is a day off for me today. Gerry has to work so I have the whole day to myself. What a treat! I have big plans for the day as there are things I want to get done around the house, I have a quilting project, and a writing project, and books calling my name.

I got up at 4:45 this morning as I usually do during the week. I find sleeping in a waste of time. Now, I admit that there are times when I don't want to get up quite so early on a weekend, but usually I want to squeeze as much as I can into those extra hours.


What's your day off philosophy?

Black sock boogie

This morning I thought of yet another reason why I am looking forward to spring and summer, and it's a time saving one as well.

Every morning, I spend way too much time poking around in my black sock drawer looking for a matching pair of trouser socks. I have thick socks, thin socks, short socks, long socks, comfort band socks, and socks that could be used as a tourniquet in a pinch. There's always those odd socks who's partner has left for destinations unknown somewhere between the laundry hamper and the pile to come back upstairs. And who knew that there were so many different shades of black!

I'm ready to finish the black sock boogie for another year. I'm ready to pull out the capri pants and flip flops.

Time stimulus

I need a bit more time. It seems to me that the older I get, the more I find that I want to do, and the less time I can find to do it all. I just need a bit more time.

I don't mean "time" as in the number of days that God has allotted to me; I trust that he has that all worked out. I mean "time" as in the number of hours I have in a day. I just need a few more, please.

I get up shortly after 4:30 in the morning because mornings are my most productive times. The problem with that is that I'm ready for bed by 7:00 at night! (maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but not by much). By the time I get home from work, walk the dogs, and make dinner there aren't a lot of productive hours left in this old girl.

I have quilts I want to make, books I want to read, stories I want to write, closets to clean, recipes to try, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera! And of course I still have those must-do things we all have like bill paying, grocery shopping, hair appointments, doctor appointments and so on.

So, I was thinking, while they're debating about this stimulus package and trying to determine the best place to inject some cash into the economy, how about some discussion about a time stimulus package?

Inject a few more hours in the day. I, for one, would be very grateful.

Signs

I am starting to see subtle signs that winter is on it's way out and we're getting ready to usher in a new season.





Here are a few things I've observed over the past few weeks that have me thinking "Spring"!


1. A flock of geese flying north

2. Robins in the trees at work

3. My daffodils are up

4. The other day when I was in my sewing room I heard the honking of geese

5. They were power washing the garden supply area at Fred Meyer the other day

6. It's still light when I leave work these days

7. I opened the sun roof in my car one sunny day

Are you thinking "Spring"?

Baby time

I have had a week. This morning, I'm attempting to fill my head with wonderful thoughts before I go out to start the day. So, I thought I would share with you a piece that a wrote in the airport when I was returning home from being with my daughter and her husband when Makiya was born.

Last week my daughter gave birth to a beautiful baby girl - my first grandchild. I was fortunate enough to be with her as she labored to bring the baby into the world, and to spend a week with them helping the new family adjust to the changes. This trip provided an unexpected opportunity to step out of my regular stress-filled existence into a simpler, quieter, more peaceful place run strictly on baby-time.

In baby-time there is little attempt to adhere to personal schedules as everything revolves around the needs of the infant. Aside from tending to the baby’s needs, one could (and we did) spend countless hours just looking at the face of a sleeping baby, fascinated by the different contortions she makes while sleeping. In baby time, holding the child to coax a burp is an opportunity to kiss the top of the cloud-soft head, and to inhale deeply the scent of newborn baby that is like none other.

Holding this new baby in my arms over the past week has been one of the most profound experiences of my adult life. As I have held her, rocked her, talked softly to her, and prayed over here my mind was not tempted to wander. Tasks not completed or put on temporary hold back home held no interest for me. I was not tempted to check my work email, and in fact I only used my personal email to distribute new pictures of the precious girl.

Occasionally I found my mind wandering back to the time when my daughter was first born. There, cradling my granddaughter I was struck with the wonder of this circle of life. Soon, softly, gently, and with little effort, I would return to baby time.

Today I journey back home and I find myself walking through the airport with a serene smile on my face, almost wondering if anyone can tell that I am a new grandma. My fervent hope is that I will be able to retain the wisdom and pleasure of baby time for a long while to come.

This young woman - ?

This picture was found amongst the treasures in my grandma's attic after she, and all of her children, had passed away.

I have no idea who she is, and that makes me sad. Someone cared enough about her at one time to have her picture put into this ornate wooden frame but now her identity is lost forever.

I sometimes think about who in my family she resembles. I have one idea, but there is nothing concrete to prove or disprove my theory.

This picture is a reminder to me how important it is to write down our stories for those who will come after us.

Friends award

I received this Friends Award from Linda May over at Blue Ridge Boomer. The award is for blogs that can be described as follows.

"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbon of these prizes are cut, even more
friendships are propagated. Please give attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight more and include the cleverly written text into the body of your awards"

I would like to share this award with the following blog friends of mine.

Angie
Barbara
Kathryn
Pat
Carmen
Terri
Marilyn
Joanne

Each one brings her own unique flavor to blog land. I appreciate them, and often learn from them.

Thank you ladies!

This Little Girl - Wendy

This precious little baby has quite a life ahead of her.

She was born into a single parent family. Her mother had been struggling to raise her son alone for eight years by the time this little girl was born.

Before her first birthday, this baby's mother came to a decision that she would not be able to raise this child on her own, and she was surrendered for adoption.

This little girl was blessed to be adopted into a loving family with two parents, and two older brothers who doted on her. She grew up feeling loved and treasured.

She married young and had three beautiful children of her own. She grew into a strong and gifted young woman with many talents. As a young mother she started her own children's clothing business, working from her basement sewing beautiful outfits on her serger.

Later, when her children were in school, she also returned to school to earn a degree. Following that she moved to Korea and taught English for almost two years.

Today this little girl is being treated for breast cancer and is on her third round of chemotherapy. She astounds me with her strength every time I talk to her.

This little girl is my sister.

My memory

My computer is rocking this morning!

Yesterday I received my new RAM in the mail and upgraded my computer to 4mb of RAM. Sounds pretty impressive when a week ago I didn't know RAM from SPAM, doesn't it?

Well, after a little chat with the Geek Squad and a little internet research, voila! I'm moving at lightning speed.

I felt somewhat like a character on "Mission Impossible" as hubby opened up the back of my laptop, and spoke words of encouragement as I removed the old RAM. I was a little stressed and imagined that I was disarming a bomb and that one false move could blow us both to smithereens. (perhaps I watched too much TV as a youngster).

Anyway, I did it and it's working like a charm. Not bad for a fifty year old granny.