My word for 2018 was acceptance. It was the perfect word for more reasons than I could have known. Many nights I went to sleep saying the serenity prayer: Please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Ken has been retired almost a full year. People ask him if he has plans, and he responds no. People ask him if he's busy, and he says no. In good weather he goes for rides on his motorcycle. He putters in the garage. He's content.
Acceptance.
At the end of the summer, Ken got hearing aids for the first time. The volume on the television came down. He heard what I said the first time I said it, and we had regular conversations in a normal tone. Then Ken decided he didn't like hearing everything and stopped wearing the hearing aids.
Acceptance.
When I returned to work in September I suspected things were not going to change. I couldn't have known that expectations would be amped up and micro-managing by administration would increase. I accepted the reality, but I realized that I didn't have to live with it. There is a difference between acceptance and surrender. I didn't surrender; I made a change.
After a year with acceptance I have made it a permanent part of my way of thinking. This has already been tested and I passed. I have been sick with viral bronchitis for ten days, the sickest I have ever been with a bronchial illness. I was in bed for three days, then saw a doctor who told me to take over the counter drugs that really did very little. That was a week ago and slowly I have gotten better. I wasn't able to be up for more than a few minutes at a time until Thursday. I guess my body was enforcing the "rest" part of recovery. I missed five days of work without pay because I'm not under contract. I feel up to returning to the classroom tomorrow and will take it slow.
Acceptance.
My word for this year came clear early on this year. I have tested it out over the last two weeks to see if it holds when life isn't cooperating with what I want to do. I had plans for January! I have projects to finish! I have family to see and places to go! The word for this year held. Through being sick and miserable I was able to find joy.
The word came to me after spending November and December with my children and grandchildren on a regular basis. My children are a joy to spend with ~ they are active, involved with family and friends, and have interesting jobs. My grandchildren find joy in dancing, playing, eating pizza and hot dogs, snow, snuggly blankets, bedtime stories, and skyping with Mimi (that's me).
While I was out of commission, I found joy in my children's regular phone calls and texts. Once I felt better, my granddaughter in Boston wanted to video chat with Mimi. Pure joy on my part.
Joy is my word for this year, and I'm planning to make it permanent, too.
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Sunday, January 27, 2019
Monday, January 8, 2018
A New Year
And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.
- Rainer Maria Rilka
The holiday break was wonderful, though woefully short. The weather turned brutally cold the weekend of New Year's and just today started to warm up.
We had a snow day on Thursday, when a storm swept through with a foot of snow and a couple hours of blizzard conditions in the afternoon. Ken got up and went to work before the snow started. Wednesday night I got the call that school would be closed...
and I reveled in the thought of being home alone all day. There was the gray stillness that precedes a storm, and the house was filled with natural daylight through every window. Coffee in hand, I periodically looked outside for snow. There were sewing projects in progress in two rooms, laundry going downstairs, and preparations for a pie underway in the kitchen. I walked on the treadmill, caught up with people online, worked on organizing last year's photos, and tidied surfaces as I moved through the house.
I wrapped myself in the day, an unexpected opportunity to enjoy all my favorite things at home.
It may be the last snow day I have at home alone.
As of today Ken is retired. Officially he is on the rolls until the end of the month, but that's as much a formality with the union as anything. He worked the first week of the new year because of a technicality that will work in his favor. It also gave him a chance to have breakfast and lunch with co-workers to say farewell.
I have known for a year this this day was coming. It wasn't my decision to make but one I have to live with now. I haven't been able to see all that this means for the future, and I had to let go of trying to figure that out. I know I will miss my solitary routines and the days home alone when school is not in session. This is a life-changing event that I have no control over. I haven't written about it and will share few details here about my struggle with this decision over the last year. There have been lots of ins and outs, and there are still some things to put in place. Perhaps as the dust settles I will figure out a way to share how I'm feeling as we go along.
Some months ago I turned to the serenity prayer as I settled into bed for the night. I was reaching for something I could repeat in hopes of soothing my overactive mind so I could get to sleep. I would say all three lines, and then I would repeat the first line again and again, sometimes until I fell asleep ~ God please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. It helps, and a week ago it became obvious to me that my word for 2018 is acceptance. It fits. It showed itself and made itself at home to help me start the year.
Thank you to all of you who have stopped by to check in. It has been good to reconnect. I have missed writing and plan to be more present in the coming weeks.
And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.
- Rainer Maria Rilka
The holiday break was wonderful, though woefully short. The weather turned brutally cold the weekend of New Year's and just today started to warm up.
We had a snow day on Thursday, when a storm swept through with a foot of snow and a couple hours of blizzard conditions in the afternoon. Ken got up and went to work before the snow started. Wednesday night I got the call that school would be closed...
and I reveled in the thought of being home alone all day. There was the gray stillness that precedes a storm, and the house was filled with natural daylight through every window. Coffee in hand, I periodically looked outside for snow. There were sewing projects in progress in two rooms, laundry going downstairs, and preparations for a pie underway in the kitchen. I walked on the treadmill, caught up with people online, worked on organizing last year's photos, and tidied surfaces as I moved through the house.
I wrapped myself in the day, an unexpected opportunity to enjoy all my favorite things at home.
It may be the last snow day I have at home alone.
As of today Ken is retired. Officially he is on the rolls until the end of the month, but that's as much a formality with the union as anything. He worked the first week of the new year because of a technicality that will work in his favor. It also gave him a chance to have breakfast and lunch with co-workers to say farewell.
I have known for a year this this day was coming. It wasn't my decision to make but one I have to live with now. I haven't been able to see all that this means for the future, and I had to let go of trying to figure that out. I know I will miss my solitary routines and the days home alone when school is not in session. This is a life-changing event that I have no control over. I haven't written about it and will share few details here about my struggle with this decision over the last year. There have been lots of ins and outs, and there are still some things to put in place. Perhaps as the dust settles I will figure out a way to share how I'm feeling as we go along.
Some months ago I turned to the serenity prayer as I settled into bed for the night. I was reaching for something I could repeat in hopes of soothing my overactive mind so I could get to sleep. I would say all three lines, and then I would repeat the first line again and again, sometimes until I fell asleep ~ God please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. It helps, and a week ago it became obvious to me that my word for 2018 is acceptance. It fits. It showed itself and made itself at home to help me start the year.
Thank you to all of you who have stopped by to check in. It has been good to reconnect. I have missed writing and plan to be more present in the coming weeks.
And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
It Started With A Line
It's three days in and I can say that the year has gotten off to a good start. Ken and I decided to spend the first few days of 2016 out of town. I made reservations for three nights at an in-town hotel in Portsmouth, NH. Ordinarily the room is not classified as having a good view, but New Year's Eve we had front row seats at a gorgeous fireworks display right out our window over the parking garage. Fortunately I remembered to make fashionably late dinner reservations, and the meal was everything we hoped it would be.
New Year's Day we made a trip to a nearby mall. We had a few specific things to shop for but mostly we wanted a chance to walk and window shop. Our last stop was JCPenney. I had five items to purchase at the first register we approached. Ken remembered one more thing, so we left the line and walked to another department.
That was our first mistake.
We picked up the five dollar item and joined another line at the "line forms here" sign. The woman in front of us had a few items, but the couple in front of her had several hundred dollars worth of merchandise. The woman moved with her few items to a second clerk when it was her turn. The couple with piles of linens was still checking out when the second clerk at the register became open. It was our turn but a gentleman with one item stepped up the counter. We thought it couldn't take long, and our turn would come shortly.
That was our second mistake.
The second clerk asked the man if he had a JCPenney credit card. He couldn't remember, so she offered to check the computer. It took her four tries to correctly enter his phone number. Alas, he no longer had an active account. The clerk offered to open a new account for him, and he thought that was a fine idea. The couple in front of us had a total of 51 items; the store allows a maximum of 50 items on a receipt, so the first clerk had to start a new ticket. About that time a clerk in jewelry announced that she could take people at her register. We thought that sounded like a good idea.
That was our third mistake.
I started toward the jewelry department saying, "Thank you! We have been in line a long time." Just then a man came out of nowhere and raced me to the register. He got there first. Ken said, "Let's go back to the first register."
That was our fourth mistake.
We walked across the store with our six items and got in line again behind two people. There was a woman checking out with over $500 worth of clothes. She talked loudly about her use of reward points, and the clerk announced that the woman had saved over $250. The customer grabbed her bags filled with purchases. We breathed a sigh of relief because the next woman was holding just one item.
That was our fifth mistake.
The woman stepped up to the counter with one shirt. The clerk reached around to a counter behind her and picked up two bags of clothes which she placed on the front counter. "You want to return these?" the clerk asked. The woman responded in the affirmative. There were two separate receipts so each item had to be matched with the correct one. Ken and I were shaking our heads and trying not to laugh. About halfway through the process the customer shared that she forgot her wallet, so she had no identification. A moment later she explained that the items were gifts and she did not have the credit card on which the items were charged. Then the clerk got on the phone to the manager because she was unable to complete the conversion of the return to a gift card. Ken and I were still discreetly laughing when another clerk showed up. Did we dare hope....
Finally we were able to make our purchase. Other than the fact that I had to bring to her attention to an item she missed, we were successfully checked out and went on our way. It took us 45 minutes to purchase six items at JCPenney. At the 40-minute mark I said that I needed to write about this experience because it was so ridiculous. And because no one would believe it. And because Ken and I were able to laugh at an absurd series of events in a situation that will likely never occur again.
This is my first post of 2016, the result of something that happened that I decided to share here. I want to celebrate that. There were few moments like that to write about last year. The birth of my granddaughter was such a moment, as were the quilting retreats.
I want more moments like that this year, moments where I am so present that I see how miraculous they are or how creative or how ridiculous.
Here's to a year of moments ~
New Year's Day we made a trip to a nearby mall. We had a few specific things to shop for but mostly we wanted a chance to walk and window shop. Our last stop was JCPenney. I had five items to purchase at the first register we approached. Ken remembered one more thing, so we left the line and walked to another department.
That was our first mistake.
We picked up the five dollar item and joined another line at the "line forms here" sign. The woman in front of us had a few items, but the couple in front of her had several hundred dollars worth of merchandise. The woman moved with her few items to a second clerk when it was her turn. The couple with piles of linens was still checking out when the second clerk at the register became open. It was our turn but a gentleman with one item stepped up the counter. We thought it couldn't take long, and our turn would come shortly.
That was our second mistake.
The second clerk asked the man if he had a JCPenney credit card. He couldn't remember, so she offered to check the computer. It took her four tries to correctly enter his phone number. Alas, he no longer had an active account. The clerk offered to open a new account for him, and he thought that was a fine idea. The couple in front of us had a total of 51 items; the store allows a maximum of 50 items on a receipt, so the first clerk had to start a new ticket. About that time a clerk in jewelry announced that she could take people at her register. We thought that sounded like a good idea.
That was our third mistake.
I started toward the jewelry department saying, "Thank you! We have been in line a long time." Just then a man came out of nowhere and raced me to the register. He got there first. Ken said, "Let's go back to the first register."
That was our fourth mistake.
We walked across the store with our six items and got in line again behind two people. There was a woman checking out with over $500 worth of clothes. She talked loudly about her use of reward points, and the clerk announced that the woman had saved over $250. The customer grabbed her bags filled with purchases. We breathed a sigh of relief because the next woman was holding just one item.
That was our fifth mistake.
The woman stepped up to the counter with one shirt. The clerk reached around to a counter behind her and picked up two bags of clothes which she placed on the front counter. "You want to return these?" the clerk asked. The woman responded in the affirmative. There were two separate receipts so each item had to be matched with the correct one. Ken and I were shaking our heads and trying not to laugh. About halfway through the process the customer shared that she forgot her wallet, so she had no identification. A moment later she explained that the items were gifts and she did not have the credit card on which the items were charged. Then the clerk got on the phone to the manager because she was unable to complete the conversion of the return to a gift card. Ken and I were still discreetly laughing when another clerk showed up. Did we dare hope....
Finally we were able to make our purchase. Other than the fact that I had to bring to her attention to an item she missed, we were successfully checked out and went on our way. It took us 45 minutes to purchase six items at JCPenney. At the 40-minute mark I said that I needed to write about this experience because it was so ridiculous. And because no one would believe it. And because Ken and I were able to laugh at an absurd series of events in a situation that will likely never occur again.
This is my first post of 2016, the result of something that happened that I decided to share here. I want to celebrate that. There were few moments like that to write about last year. The birth of my granddaughter was such a moment, as were the quilting retreats.
I want more moments like that this year, moments where I am so present that I see how miraculous they are or how creative or how ridiculous.
Here's to a year of moments ~
Saturday, November 14, 2015
No News
There are instances where no news would not be good news, like when you're waiting to hear about a job interview or trying to buy a house. I have been in both of those situations and waited with baited breath for news.
In my current time and space, no news is good news. On Tuesday I was scanned, measured, mashed, and relieved of two vials of blood, and I haven't heard a word. That's good news because if there was a concern, I think I would have heard something by now. The results should be shared with my doctor within a week, and her office will send me a copy. I will put the paperwork in a file and out of my mind until someone suggests it's time to get something or other checked again.
That's the scenario I choose to focus on.
This morning Ken and I were treated to brunch with friends. They invited us to their home, crafted a delicious meal, and then took us for a long walk on wooded trails that surround their neighborhood. It was a crisp fall day and being outside was invigorating. I don't get that same feeling alone on the treadmill. It was engaging to walk and talk about families and books and ideas. A thread that ran through all the topics was how fortunate we are to have good health, independent children, and opportunities to do the things we enjoy.
I had a rough day at work yesterday and there are no indications that things will get easier any time soon. I got caught up in that and ended the day angry and frustrated. Then I got upset with myself for letting the situation get the best of me.
Today with friends turned that thinking around.
Monday I have a paper due for my class. That will keep me busy tomorrow, and while I work I will hold onto the feelings from today.
The journey continues ~
In my current time and space, no news is good news. On Tuesday I was scanned, measured, mashed, and relieved of two vials of blood, and I haven't heard a word. That's good news because if there was a concern, I think I would have heard something by now. The results should be shared with my doctor within a week, and her office will send me a copy. I will put the paperwork in a file and out of my mind until someone suggests it's time to get something or other checked again.
That's the scenario I choose to focus on.
This morning Ken and I were treated to brunch with friends. They invited us to their home, crafted a delicious meal, and then took us for a long walk on wooded trails that surround their neighborhood. It was a crisp fall day and being outside was invigorating. I don't get that same feeling alone on the treadmill. It was engaging to walk and talk about families and books and ideas. A thread that ran through all the topics was how fortunate we are to have good health, independent children, and opportunities to do the things we enjoy.
I had a rough day at work yesterday and there are no indications that things will get easier any time soon. I got caught up in that and ended the day angry and frustrated. Then I got upset with myself for letting the situation get the best of me.
Today with friends turned that thinking around.
Monday I have a paper due for my class. That will keep me busy tomorrow, and while I work I will hold onto the feelings from today.
The journey continues ~
Monday, September 7, 2015
Start From Now
Students started classes last Tuesday, September 1. I am always disappointed when school starts before Labor Day because in my mind that holiday is part and parcel of summer vacation. This year was one of those years when the first Monday in September came too late to wait for school to begin so back we went, with gorgeous summer weather continuing without regard for where we need to be between 8 and 3.
The room I'm in this year is even smaller than I originally thought. It is not half the size but one third the size of a regular classroom. At nine feet wide and twenty-seven feet long there are limited options for room set-up. I do have a small desk in the back between the file cabinets and the bookshelves. At just a glance it is obvious that there is only room for one small table, one teacher, and a couple kids at a time.
The good news is that there is a second door to the room in the back that goes between our room and the computer lab. Past occupants had covered the door with shelving and supplies, so I didn't know it was there. Now I keep the door open most of the time, which helps dramatically with air circulation. I appreciate the natural light I can see through the windows in the computer lab.
The back door makes is easier for me to come and go, which I do often. There will be times when students are in the lab for classes or testing, but once I figure out the schedule I will have what I need on the cart and be able to do what I need to do.
My current perspective took a few days to evolve. When I first saw my space for the year I was crestfallen. I knew I needed to devise a plan to make it work for me, which is when the importance of the second door became apparent. I have perfected slipping out quietly to make copies, get necessary materials and information, and take on additional duties.
The other thing that helped, at least it did when I started the process on Thursday, was to register for a course that starts tomorrow. I am reminding myself of the benefits of learning with other educators as I sit here with a five-page syllabus in front of me trying to remember how to be part of a group discussion online. We do have three classes in real life; the first one isn't for a few weeks and can't come fast enough. My first thought tonight was that I wasn't ready to make this commitment. My second thought was that if I don't do it now I may never decide I'm ready. My third thought was to write a post about it because my fears look less threatening in black and white.
So much has happened this year that has left me feeling vulnerable that I've forgotten how it helps to write, not about the details necessarily, but about the feelings that come with the ups and downs of daily living. I remembered tonight and feel better already.
Last Tuesday, as I headed out for the first day of school, I loaded my stuff into the car and climbed into the driver's seat. There on the steering wheel was an envelope, blank and unsealed [Ken's trademark move in case I want to use the envelope again]. Inside was a card with a sepia toned photo of a woman walking along a railroad track while balanced on a rail. The words above the photo are: Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new beginning.
Isn't that perfect?
The room I'm in this year is even smaller than I originally thought. It is not half the size but one third the size of a regular classroom. At nine feet wide and twenty-seven feet long there are limited options for room set-up. I do have a small desk in the back between the file cabinets and the bookshelves. At just a glance it is obvious that there is only room for one small table, one teacher, and a couple kids at a time.
The good news is that there is a second door to the room in the back that goes between our room and the computer lab. Past occupants had covered the door with shelving and supplies, so I didn't know it was there. Now I keep the door open most of the time, which helps dramatically with air circulation. I appreciate the natural light I can see through the windows in the computer lab.
The back door makes is easier for me to come and go, which I do often. There will be times when students are in the lab for classes or testing, but once I figure out the schedule I will have what I need on the cart and be able to do what I need to do.
My current perspective took a few days to evolve. When I first saw my space for the year I was crestfallen. I knew I needed to devise a plan to make it work for me, which is when the importance of the second door became apparent. I have perfected slipping out quietly to make copies, get necessary materials and information, and take on additional duties.
The other thing that helped, at least it did when I started the process on Thursday, was to register for a course that starts tomorrow. I am reminding myself of the benefits of learning with other educators as I sit here with a five-page syllabus in front of me trying to remember how to be part of a group discussion online. We do have three classes in real life; the first one isn't for a few weeks and can't come fast enough. My first thought tonight was that I wasn't ready to make this commitment. My second thought was that if I don't do it now I may never decide I'm ready. My third thought was to write a post about it because my fears look less threatening in black and white.
So much has happened this year that has left me feeling vulnerable that I've forgotten how it helps to write, not about the details necessarily, but about the feelings that come with the ups and downs of daily living. I remembered tonight and feel better already.
Last Tuesday, as I headed out for the first day of school, I loaded my stuff into the car and climbed into the driver's seat. There on the steering wheel was an envelope, blank and unsealed [Ken's trademark move in case I want to use the envelope again]. Inside was a card with a sepia toned photo of a woman walking along a railroad track while balanced on a rail. The words above the photo are: Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new beginning.
Isn't that perfect?
Saturday, August 22, 2015
August Transition
The first few years I taught I looked forward to and dreaded summer in equal parts. I looked forward to unscheduled days with my kids, warm sunny weather, time to do the things I enjoyed, and the chance to catch up on all the appointments and home maintenance I didn't have time for during the school year. I would hit the ground running the day after school ended and go full tilt until the day school started up again. I wore myself out and never felt like I got everything done.
At some point I figured out that I couldn't save all the fun stuff or all the chores for the time between school years. I was curious to see if I could remember to live that lesson this summer.
It helped that Ken and I left on vacation just two days after school ended in June. The trip was literally a "break" in my routine and took us to places we hadn't been before.
It was a summer for a variety of firsts. Ken and I bought season tickets to the Maine State Music Theater, a slate of four performances at the theater on Bowdoin College Campus. The musicals this summer were The Full Monty, Sister Act, The Music Man, and Young Frankenstein. We enjoyed each one and the fun story lines were especially appreciated.
The two quilting retreats were another first for me. Each experience took me out of my comfort zone and gave me the opportunity to stretch. It was fun to learn new techniques, meet quilters and designers whose work I admire, and work beside women I wouldn't have met otherwise.
The retreats gave me something else too ~ the joy I feel when I create and sew. I had forgotten that just twenty minutes of sewing gives me a chance to change gears and recharge. Even working at twenty-minute intervals projects move forward, and during the time in between I'm thinking about and planning what comes next.
I haven't rushed to finish anything this summer. Like quilting, life is a work in progress.
At some point I figured out that I couldn't save all the fun stuff or all the chores for the time between school years. I was curious to see if I could remember to live that lesson this summer.
It helped that Ken and I left on vacation just two days after school ended in June. The trip was literally a "break" in my routine and took us to places we hadn't been before.
It was a summer for a variety of firsts. Ken and I bought season tickets to the Maine State Music Theater, a slate of four performances at the theater on Bowdoin College Campus. The musicals this summer were The Full Monty, Sister Act, The Music Man, and Young Frankenstein. We enjoyed each one and the fun story lines were especially appreciated.
The two quilting retreats were another first for me. Each experience took me out of my comfort zone and gave me the opportunity to stretch. It was fun to learn new techniques, meet quilters and designers whose work I admire, and work beside women I wouldn't have met otherwise.
The retreats gave me something else too ~ the joy I feel when I create and sew. I had forgotten that just twenty minutes of sewing gives me a chance to change gears and recharge. Even working at twenty-minute intervals projects move forward, and during the time in between I'm thinking about and planning what comes next.
I haven't rushed to finish anything this summer. Like quilting, life is a work in progress.
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| Slow Stitching block for Color Quilt |
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| Block in Completely Cauchy style |
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| "Roberta" block for Color Quilt |
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Imposed Interlude
I'm back online after almost two weeks of internet trouble.
It started with an early morning thunderstorm. The internet went out for several hours. Then it came back intermittently. Over a period of days I made several attempts to troubleshoot with tech support. When I reported there was static on the phone, it was determined that a lineman should be dispatched, which took several more days.
By the time the lineman arrived Wednesday morning the internet was completely gone and the phone was all but unusable. The good news was that everything up to the pole was in good working order. The bad news was that something was definitely wrong in the house. It wasn't his job to diagnose inside problems but he made phone calls to tech support to check numbers to narrow down where the problem might be. He suggested we upgrade the underground wiring from the pole to the house.
I left for a long weekend and returned to find Ken had pulled new wire. The good news was that the connection on the outside of the house produced a perfect signal, confirmed when Ken hooked the modem up outside. The bad news was that there was still no internet in the house and there was still static on the phone.
We started troubleshooting inside, checking connections in phone jacks and locating where the wire comes into the house. With the help of a mirror, we pulled the wiring up and out of the junction box downstairs. One of the wires had broken off. It's a wonder we had internet and phone for as long as we did.
It has been a solid day and a half with internet connectivity and static-free phone service. Do I dare say the problem is solved? It's good to be back.
News from the Slow Stitching Retreat coming soon ~
It started with an early morning thunderstorm. The internet went out for several hours. Then it came back intermittently. Over a period of days I made several attempts to troubleshoot with tech support. When I reported there was static on the phone, it was determined that a lineman should be dispatched, which took several more days.
By the time the lineman arrived Wednesday morning the internet was completely gone and the phone was all but unusable. The good news was that everything up to the pole was in good working order. The bad news was that something was definitely wrong in the house. It wasn't his job to diagnose inside problems but he made phone calls to tech support to check numbers to narrow down where the problem might be. He suggested we upgrade the underground wiring from the pole to the house.
I left for a long weekend and returned to find Ken had pulled new wire. The good news was that the connection on the outside of the house produced a perfect signal, confirmed when Ken hooked the modem up outside. The bad news was that there was still no internet in the house and there was still static on the phone.
We started troubleshooting inside, checking connections in phone jacks and locating where the wire comes into the house. With the help of a mirror, we pulled the wiring up and out of the junction box downstairs. One of the wires had broken off. It's a wonder we had internet and phone for as long as we did.
It has been a solid day and a half with internet connectivity and static-free phone service. Do I dare say the problem is solved? It's good to be back.
News from the Slow Stitching Retreat coming soon ~
Monday, July 6, 2015
Unpacking
It's good to go away, and it's good to come home. Then there's all the laundry, accumulated mail, sorting, and putting away that needs to be tended to. This trip had an excellent element to the unpacking in the Fiesta!ware. Some pieces are for me and some are for my daughter. Look at the colors~
Ken picked out the sauceboat because it turns out he likes the color tangerine. All the poppy pieces are for my daughter, as well as the red tray with handles and the medium sized bowls I now know are labeled "bistro." The small bowls are my choice for berries, snacks, or ice cream. Ken chose the bowls that have square bottoms; the red pitcher was my prize, although the oblong platter that is really a bread plate is fun, too. The three pieces at the top of this second photo were special selections not bought as seconds~
Once the pieces were unpacked, washed, dried, and sorted as to who got what, I needed to make room in my cupboards. Clearing out kitchen cupboards can be tiresome or fun, and in this case it was the latter. I had to question why I am still hanging onto bowls we've had since the beginning but no longer use and how many drink glasses two people really need. The goal has been to add color and usefulness, and our latest purchases accomplish both.
Ken picked out the sauceboat because it turns out he likes the color tangerine. All the poppy pieces are for my daughter, as well as the red tray with handles and the medium sized bowls I now know are labeled "bistro." The small bowls are my choice for berries, snacks, or ice cream. Ken chose the bowls that have square bottoms; the red pitcher was my prize, although the oblong platter that is really a bread plate is fun, too. The three pieces at the top of this second photo were special selections not bought as seconds~
Once the pieces were unpacked, washed, dried, and sorted as to who got what, I needed to make room in my cupboards. Clearing out kitchen cupboards can be tiresome or fun, and in this case it was the latter. I had to question why I am still hanging onto bowls we've had since the beginning but no longer use and how many drink glasses two people really need. The goal has been to add color and usefulness, and our latest purchases accomplish both.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
February Treats
I wrote the last post while I was watching The Oscars, one of the treats of February. I had seen more of the movies up for awards than I realized. I saw Birdman and The Judge by myself and want to see them again with Ken; I particularly enjoyed the performances of Robert Downey Jr. and Robert Duvall in the latter; I thought Birdman was over the top, which might have been why it was so popular, and while it wasn't one of my favorites last year I wouldn't mind seeing it again to see what I might have missed.
Ken and I both liked Wild; I got so absorbed in the movie I forgot Reese Witherspoon was acting, and in a different year I think she could have won the Oscar. Ken and I thought Grand Budapest Hotel was weird, but that kind of movie often does well with voters of The Academy; I don't want to see that one again. We did like The Imitation Game, but instead of seeing it again I want to learn more about the mathematician Alan Turing and how his mind worked. We saw Begin Again on DVD, and that is the sort of movie I will watch again because I like the story and the actors and the music is good. I saw Into the Woods with my daughter and it was good fun; Anna Kendrick has an amazing voice, and Meryl Streep certainly held her own.
While still watching The Oscars I added movies we haven't seen yet to our Netflix queue: Boyhood, Selma, The Theory of Everything, and Big Hero 6. The winning song from Selma gave me goose bumps.
There are some movies from last year that I don't care to see at all. I read the book Still Alice and thought it was well written, but now that I know the story I don't want to see the movie, though I'm sure Julianne Moore did a terrific job and deserves the Oscar. I am just as sure J. K. Simmons earned his Oscar, but I don't want to see Whiplash because I don't enjoy movies about one person intentionally abusing another. American Sniper and Foxcatcher are based on true stories, and I don't want to see them because I know enough about those tragedies already. After last year's Academy Awards we gave in and rented Gravity, which was as bad as I thought it would be; I will not be suckered in this year to watch Interstellar.
That Sunday evening awards show was the perfect way to end February vacation. I was relaxed and well rested.
Then I went back to work. I have been tired every night, so tired that I have climbed into bed early the last two nights. The frustration of the job is tiring, as is the frigid cold weather and the mountains of snow. Sometimes the best thing is to climb into a warm bed with a good book ~ I'm on my third re-read of favorite Elizabeth Berg novels.
Another treat of February is that it is the shortest month, so no matter how cold or snowy it is we know it will be over soon. It's also the last full month of winter. We have no illusions that spring is anywhere close, but it feels good to say "the last month of winter."
We get accustomed to the snow as it piles up. I took photos after the January 27 blizzard and again on February 22 after the storm the day before. Yes, we had a lot of snow in January, and photos show how much more we have now. Ken does a terrific job of keeping us cleared out ~
Results of the Blizzard of January 2015 ~
After the February 21 Snowstorm ~
He gets those nice clean edges and keeps the driveway wide by blowing snow right up against each side. It's a lot of work but it sure makes it easier to come and go.
Ken and I both liked Wild; I got so absorbed in the movie I forgot Reese Witherspoon was acting, and in a different year I think she could have won the Oscar. Ken and I thought Grand Budapest Hotel was weird, but that kind of movie often does well with voters of The Academy; I don't want to see that one again. We did like The Imitation Game, but instead of seeing it again I want to learn more about the mathematician Alan Turing and how his mind worked. We saw Begin Again on DVD, and that is the sort of movie I will watch again because I like the story and the actors and the music is good. I saw Into the Woods with my daughter and it was good fun; Anna Kendrick has an amazing voice, and Meryl Streep certainly held her own.
While still watching The Oscars I added movies we haven't seen yet to our Netflix queue: Boyhood, Selma, The Theory of Everything, and Big Hero 6. The winning song from Selma gave me goose bumps.
There are some movies from last year that I don't care to see at all. I read the book Still Alice and thought it was well written, but now that I know the story I don't want to see the movie, though I'm sure Julianne Moore did a terrific job and deserves the Oscar. I am just as sure J. K. Simmons earned his Oscar, but I don't want to see Whiplash because I don't enjoy movies about one person intentionally abusing another. American Sniper and Foxcatcher are based on true stories, and I don't want to see them because I know enough about those tragedies already. After last year's Academy Awards we gave in and rented Gravity, which was as bad as I thought it would be; I will not be suckered in this year to watch Interstellar.
That Sunday evening awards show was the perfect way to end February vacation. I was relaxed and well rested.
Then I went back to work. I have been tired every night, so tired that I have climbed into bed early the last two nights. The frustration of the job is tiring, as is the frigid cold weather and the mountains of snow. Sometimes the best thing is to climb into a warm bed with a good book ~ I'm on my third re-read of favorite Elizabeth Berg novels.
Another treat of February is that it is the shortest month, so no matter how cold or snowy it is we know it will be over soon. It's also the last full month of winter. We have no illusions that spring is anywhere close, but it feels good to say "the last month of winter."
We get accustomed to the snow as it piles up. I took photos after the January 27 blizzard and again on February 22 after the storm the day before. Yes, we had a lot of snow in January, and photos show how much more we have now. Ken does a terrific job of keeping us cleared out ~
Results of the Blizzard of January 2015 ~
After the February 21 Snowstorm ~
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
By Feet And Inches
As promised it snowed on Groundhog Day - more than a foot. That made for snow day #4 with a late start for schools the next day in hopes that roads could be cleared and people would be able to get out. For the most part it worked and we had a clear day that Wednesday. Snow throughout the day on Thursday delivered another five inches and made for the most treacherous roads so far this winter, but with no time off everyone made the best of it and left plenty of time to travel. We had two days to shovel out before snow arrived again this past Sunday morning and continued right through Monday evening, topping off with another fresh six inches.
For those of you keeping count, in central Maine we have had over five feet of snow since January 1.
Ken cleared away a few inches Sunday evening before he headed out of town for the week. He called yesterday and offered to come home but I said I would be okay. I took a personal day today and had a lot to do, but I decided if I had trouble I would figure something out. As it was I got out of the driveway alright but got stuck trying to make it back up the hill. Somehow I managed to back down [after a lot of back and forth] and went about shoveling my tire tracks and putting down sand. It worked! I made it into the garage. I will make it out in the morning and not worry about the trip back up the hill until I get home.
Aside from the weather, this year got off to a tough start. It really has been a day-to-day slog. There have been few bright spots.
Luckily, the last few days have seen a bit of an upturn. Friday evening Ken prepared a lovely meal and our daughter joined us for a relaxed visit. A friend took me to the movies on Saturday. My mom sent me chocolates and last evening I had a nice chat with her on the phone.
Today I considered going shopping and getting my hair cut short. I did neither. Instead I turned in the paperwork necessary to refinance the house [further cutting our interest rate so that it is now almost half of what it was when we bought the house in 2007] and changed long distance companies [someone from some department at CREDO finally called me about the email and letter I sent to say how thoroughly dissatisfied I was with their customer service; she not once apologized or offered any form of compensation but said over and over how this sort of thing never happens; well it happened to me and not only do I feel better now but I will save over 50% on my long distance bill by changing companies].
Today was productive and uplifting as well. I received the perfect cards from my two oldest friends, both across the country and valued beyond words for their friendship. I received a bonus phone call from my friend in New Mexico, who sees right into my heart and says exactly the right thing. Then my sister surprised me with a phone call from Scotland. The day topped off with phone calls from my son in Boston and Ken in New Hampshire.
Happy Birthday to me. I am going to count today as a fresh start to the year.
For those of you keeping count, in central Maine we have had over five feet of snow since January 1.
Ken cleared away a few inches Sunday evening before he headed out of town for the week. He called yesterday and offered to come home but I said I would be okay. I took a personal day today and had a lot to do, but I decided if I had trouble I would figure something out. As it was I got out of the driveway alright but got stuck trying to make it back up the hill. Somehow I managed to back down [after a lot of back and forth] and went about shoveling my tire tracks and putting down sand. It worked! I made it into the garage. I will make it out in the morning and not worry about the trip back up the hill until I get home.
Aside from the weather, this year got off to a tough start. It really has been a day-to-day slog. There have been few bright spots.
Luckily, the last few days have seen a bit of an upturn. Friday evening Ken prepared a lovely meal and our daughter joined us for a relaxed visit. A friend took me to the movies on Saturday. My mom sent me chocolates and last evening I had a nice chat with her on the phone.
Today I considered going shopping and getting my hair cut short. I did neither. Instead I turned in the paperwork necessary to refinance the house [further cutting our interest rate so that it is now almost half of what it was when we bought the house in 2007] and changed long distance companies [someone from some department at CREDO finally called me about the email and letter I sent to say how thoroughly dissatisfied I was with their customer service; she not once apologized or offered any form of compensation but said over and over how this sort of thing never happens; well it happened to me and not only do I feel better now but I will save over 50% on my long distance bill by changing companies].
Today was productive and uplifting as well. I received the perfect cards from my two oldest friends, both across the country and valued beyond words for their friendship. I received a bonus phone call from my friend in New Mexico, who sees right into my heart and says exactly the right thing. Then my sister surprised me with a phone call from Scotland. The day topped off with phone calls from my son in Boston and Ken in New Hampshire.
Happy Birthday to me. I am going to count today as a fresh start to the year.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
I Was Wrong
It has been four weeks since I last wrote and things have gone downhill in every area.
The cell phone problem was never resolved. Two weeks ago I emailed the co-founders, the CFO, and the VP of Marketing, and I have received no response. I have composed a letter that I will snail mail to each of them. My next step is formal complaints with the FCC and Better Business Bureau. I will never again recommend Working Assets or CREDO to anyone.
At work I am out-talked, talked over, and corrected when I am not wrong. I have asked to split my duties so I am outside for recess duty for 22 minutes and inside for cafeteria duty for 22 minutes, but nothing has changed and there is no sign that anything will. The saving grace is the kids, but I need to get back into my own classroom.
The deck is finished. The railings are finished. They look good. Enough said.
This coming weekend I will see my west coast family. My son, his wife, and my grandson are coming east for a wedding. I am driving to Boston to babysit and for what I thought would be a relaxing weekend to visit with family. It has turned into a whirlwind of here, there, and the other place that makes me faint to even think about. It is hard to be an introvert when extroverts are making the plans. So I will see my grandson for 24 hours and come home.
On Sunday someone said things to me that were disrespectful and inexcusable. That person knows I will not call them out here because I do not want you to think less of them. Later, when I tried to talk to them, I was told to leave them alone. They never said another word. Okay. Done. My life moves on.
I am sad.
Two nights ago I had a dream about a friend who died nine years ago this month. It was the night before the anniversary of her funeral, and it was so real that I could hear her laugh. I miss her as much as I ever did and need her as much as I ever have.
I didn't expect to be gone from here for four weeks. I thought that things would have to get better....
The cell phone problem was never resolved. Two weeks ago I emailed the co-founders, the CFO, and the VP of Marketing, and I have received no response. I have composed a letter that I will snail mail to each of them. My next step is formal complaints with the FCC and Better Business Bureau. I will never again recommend Working Assets or CREDO to anyone.
At work I am out-talked, talked over, and corrected when I am not wrong. I have asked to split my duties so I am outside for recess duty for 22 minutes and inside for cafeteria duty for 22 minutes, but nothing has changed and there is no sign that anything will. The saving grace is the kids, but I need to get back into my own classroom.
The deck is finished. The railings are finished. They look good. Enough said.
This coming weekend I will see my west coast family. My son, his wife, and my grandson are coming east for a wedding. I am driving to Boston to babysit and for what I thought would be a relaxing weekend to visit with family. It has turned into a whirlwind of here, there, and the other place that makes me faint to even think about. It is hard to be an introvert when extroverts are making the plans. So I will see my grandson for 24 hours and come home.
On Sunday someone said things to me that were disrespectful and inexcusable. That person knows I will not call them out here because I do not want you to think less of them. Later, when I tried to talk to them, I was told to leave them alone. They never said another word. Okay. Done. My life moves on.
I am sad.
Two nights ago I had a dream about a friend who died nine years ago this month. It was the night before the anniversary of her funeral, and it was so real that I could hear her laugh. I miss her as much as I ever did and need her as much as I ever have.
I didn't expect to be gone from here for four weeks. I thought that things would have to get better....
Monday, August 4, 2014
Decked
We have known for years that we needed to rebuild the deck on this house. The first couple summers Ken dutifully power-washed and stained the boards but sun, heat, and snow take a toll on low-grade wood no matter what you do. We offered the boards to a friend who needs a temporary deck solution and he politely refused; he said our boards are in worse shape than the ones he removed from his own deck. We didn't take offense but felt vindicated in what we've known all along.
Two years ago we started the research needed to learn all we could about the variety of decking materials now available. I am glad we waited because in that short time new composite materials have been developed and we are pleased with our selection.
It's a big job. All the old boards have to be removed~
TimberTech Earthwood Evolutions Terrain has boards the exact length we need~
Fascia boards along the edge will also need to be replaced due to water damage~
It took several hours to interpret detailed installation instructions~
After the first few courses the work moved along more smoothly~
After four weekends there is a lot to show for all Ken's hard work~
Boards in the porch area need to come up so work can begin there~
It felt good last night to survey the progress so far~
Pollen, leaves, and acorns are all welcome~
Two years ago we started the research needed to learn all we could about the variety of decking materials now available. I am glad we waited because in that short time new composite materials have been developed and we are pleased with our selection.
It's a big job. All the old boards have to be removed~
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| The first section measures 36 feet long by 10 feet wide |
 | |
| Boards in 16 and 20 foot lengths will fill the space |
 | |
| Upper boards were not properly painted before installation |
 |
| At the start Ken strategically positioned planks to work from |
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| Ken's using a hidden fastening system |
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| Looking toward the backyard |
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| This space is 20 feet by 8 feet |
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| The railings need to be replaced, which is another story |
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| The raised grain feels good on my feet |
Monday, June 2, 2014
Last Times
For some life events, it's hard to know before it happens when the last time will be. I didn't understand this when my children were little. I had three so it seemed that there would always be diapers to wash, sippy cups to hand off, one last time to nurse. Then one by one things happened for the last time... except I didn't know it was the last time until it was. One day the diaper pail stood empty and those lint-free cloths turn into window-washing rags. The third baby stopped asking to nurse, so I honored his decision and stopped offering. The sippy-cup lids sat in the dish drainer for days because the toddle now wanted his cup to look just like the big kids' drinking glasses.
We then moved to a time of predictable last times in our family. Moving through the school system, learning to drive, and graduating from college fell nicely on life's timeline. We could predict ahead of the event that it would be the last. I enjoyed those "lasts" because I had time to prepare for them. I liked the chance to anticipate what would happen, how, and when. Plans were made in advance, and though we stayed flexible and details might change, the central event was a celebration from anticipation to completion. I was a happy mom.
Yesterday Ken and I traveled to Boston to help our youngest son move. We anticipated that it could be the last time we helped one of our children physically move from one place to another. Each of our three offspring is grown up and gainfully employed, and they have all the possessions that come with a professional life. Ken and I are in good shape, but we are realistic about how many more times we can heft futons and solid wood bureaus down three flights of stairs, into a truck, and up three more flights of stairs. We moved our commitments around and our son changed his schedule so Ken and I could both be there yesterday to be a part of this "last time."
We arrived in Boston and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with our son. Then he delivered his surprise: for the most part he was already moved. There were a few boxes we could easily walk from the old apartment to his new abode, and after that he had tickets for us to attend a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. It was a wonderful surprise.
It caught me off guard because I was prepared for another "last." I continued to find reasons for us to walk between the two apartments because I wasn't ready for the experience to be over. Then it was time for us to get on the subway to get to the game, and since we had so much free time we made plans to meet our son for dinner before we got on the bus to head home.
It was a delightful day. Ken and I talked on the way home about how proud we are of our children and how lucky we are.
It will have to be okay that we can't always predict the "last time."
We then moved to a time of predictable last times in our family. Moving through the school system, learning to drive, and graduating from college fell nicely on life's timeline. We could predict ahead of the event that it would be the last. I enjoyed those "lasts" because I had time to prepare for them. I liked the chance to anticipate what would happen, how, and when. Plans were made in advance, and though we stayed flexible and details might change, the central event was a celebration from anticipation to completion. I was a happy mom.
Yesterday Ken and I traveled to Boston to help our youngest son move. We anticipated that it could be the last time we helped one of our children physically move from one place to another. Each of our three offspring is grown up and gainfully employed, and they have all the possessions that come with a professional life. Ken and I are in good shape, but we are realistic about how many more times we can heft futons and solid wood bureaus down three flights of stairs, into a truck, and up three more flights of stairs. We moved our commitments around and our son changed his schedule so Ken and I could both be there yesterday to be a part of this "last time."
We arrived in Boston and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with our son. Then he delivered his surprise: for the most part he was already moved. There were a few boxes we could easily walk from the old apartment to his new abode, and after that he had tickets for us to attend a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. It was a wonderful surprise.
It caught me off guard because I was prepared for another "last." I continued to find reasons for us to walk between the two apartments because I wasn't ready for the experience to be over. Then it was time for us to get on the subway to get to the game, and since we had so much free time we made plans to meet our son for dinner before we got on the bus to head home.
It was a delightful day. Ken and I talked on the way home about how proud we are of our children and how lucky we are.
It will have to be okay that we can't always predict the "last time."
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
A Year By The Sea
In March, in the used bookstore in California, the first book I picked up was A Year by the Sea by Joan Anderson. This was not the first time I had considered buying this book. I almost bought it new several times when it was published in 1999. The last time I saw it for sale in our local used bookstore I left it sitting on the shelf.
I was reticent to read the story of a woman I had watched travel the talk-show circuit. I didn't trust the sincerity of a woman who could afford to escape for a year to her cottage on Cape Cod. I figured if she owned a home on Cape Cod she was in pretty good shape and there wouldn't be much I could relate to in what she had to say.
The used paperback was only a dollar, so I figured why not buy it. When a book repeatedly presents itself to me I eventually give in. Most times I am glad I did.
This time was no exception. It was the first book I started reading during my trip. I intended just to read the first bit and set it aside for later. The first paragraph grabbed my interest: "The decision to separate seemed to happen overnight. My husband came home from work one day and announced that he was taking a job hundreds of miles away. As he yammered on about the details, I sat blank-faced, hard-pressed for an excuse not to accompany him. After all, our two sons were grown, the big old family house in which we had resided for seventeen years had long since outlived its usefulness, and my job was portable. So where was my resistance coming from? Why was I frozen, frightened, and full of anger?" (p. 2)
It dawned on me why this book did not appeal to me fifteen years ago. At that time I shared no point of reference with this woman. I couldn't imagine a time when the house where I started my family would no longer suit me. Fifteen years ago my children were growing up, but I couldn't envision a time when they would be completely grown and no longer need my presence on a regular basis. I didn't think my husband would ever take a job hundreds of miles away without talking to me first, but if that was his choice would I refuse to go if I couldn't identify a solid reason?
However, fifteen years after she wrote the words, I could identify with what Joan Anderson was feeling. I have moved from the house where I started my family and watched my children grow, children who now live lives totally separate from mine. My husband has not taken another job, and he still travels often for work; what has changed is that I am now quite content with my time alone.
Once I started reading, I was hooked. The cottage Joan escaped to was a run-down summer place that wasn't prepared for the stress of year-round occupancy. She took full responsibility for her own expenses, which meant she soon needed to find work in a fishing village. Joan opens herself to new experiences and new people. She strikes up a conversation with a fascinating woman who becomes a mentor and confidante. The wisdom her new friend imparts in itself makes the book worth reading. I will not divulge her name here because that discovery is part of the fun....
This book is about one woman's journey of self-discovery. I finished the book in California and have since read most of it again. I recommend it if you are someone searching for what you cannot name, or if you are interested in reading about a woman who was willing to start the journey and share what she learned along the way.
I was reticent to read the story of a woman I had watched travel the talk-show circuit. I didn't trust the sincerity of a woman who could afford to escape for a year to her cottage on Cape Cod. I figured if she owned a home on Cape Cod she was in pretty good shape and there wouldn't be much I could relate to in what she had to say.
The used paperback was only a dollar, so I figured why not buy it. When a book repeatedly presents itself to me I eventually give in. Most times I am glad I did.
This time was no exception. It was the first book I started reading during my trip. I intended just to read the first bit and set it aside for later. The first paragraph grabbed my interest: "The decision to separate seemed to happen overnight. My husband came home from work one day and announced that he was taking a job hundreds of miles away. As he yammered on about the details, I sat blank-faced, hard-pressed for an excuse not to accompany him. After all, our two sons were grown, the big old family house in which we had resided for seventeen years had long since outlived its usefulness, and my job was portable. So where was my resistance coming from? Why was I frozen, frightened, and full of anger?" (p. 2)
It dawned on me why this book did not appeal to me fifteen years ago. At that time I shared no point of reference with this woman. I couldn't imagine a time when the house where I started my family would no longer suit me. Fifteen years ago my children were growing up, but I couldn't envision a time when they would be completely grown and no longer need my presence on a regular basis. I didn't think my husband would ever take a job hundreds of miles away without talking to me first, but if that was his choice would I refuse to go if I couldn't identify a solid reason?
However, fifteen years after she wrote the words, I could identify with what Joan Anderson was feeling. I have moved from the house where I started my family and watched my children grow, children who now live lives totally separate from mine. My husband has not taken another job, and he still travels often for work; what has changed is that I am now quite content with my time alone.
Once I started reading, I was hooked. The cottage Joan escaped to was a run-down summer place that wasn't prepared for the stress of year-round occupancy. She took full responsibility for her own expenses, which meant she soon needed to find work in a fishing village. Joan opens herself to new experiences and new people. She strikes up a conversation with a fascinating woman who becomes a mentor and confidante. The wisdom her new friend imparts in itself makes the book worth reading. I will not divulge her name here because that discovery is part of the fun....
This book is about one woman's journey of self-discovery. I finished the book in California and have since read most of it again. I recommend it if you are someone searching for what you cannot name, or if you are interested in reading about a woman who was willing to start the journey and share what she learned along the way.
Friday, April 25, 2014
Make That A Table For Four
With March Madness over, our attention has turned to the National Hockey League play-offs. The first round for the Boston Bruins looked to be a tough one with the Detroit Red Wings, who won three of the four games they played Boston during the regular season.
Ken and I are not obsessed with hockey. Once in a while we catch a game during the regular season. However, we do enjoy the post season, when the best hockey is played.
Last night was Game 4 and we'd made plans for a late dinner at our favorite pub to watch the game. The Bruins have brought their A-game in each of the three previous meetings and were up two games to one.
We were seated at the best table in the house, near a window on the Androscoggin River~
Which is just below the biggest television screen in the place~
There was a lot on the line for both teams. Detroit won the first game played in the Boston, but then lost in Boston and Detroit. Game 5 moves back to Boston, and Detroit would do well to head back to Bean Town even with the Bruins. The first period ended with Detroit up 1-0. By the start of the second period Ken and I had finished dinner and were enjoying our first cups of coffee...
when we were joined by another couple about our age. There were plenty of empty tables and room at the bar, but when they approached our table and asked if they could watch the game we said sure. After all, we did have the best table in front of the biggest screen.
They introduced themselves and it didn't take long for us to enjoy snippets of conversation during the commercials. Their home base is in Cleveland and they have grown children scattered throughout the Northeast in places we know well. We learned we have similar interests in music and theater. My ears picked up when the mentioned they play pinochle, which Ken and I also enjoy; not only do they play but she organized a "club" where four couples get together four times a year for a potluck supper and mixed couples' pinochle. I love that idea.
We enjoyed watching hockey and chatting and all cheered when the Bruins won in overtime. I said maybe we'd run into them again if they were in the area, and he gave us his card with a phone number and email address.
Ken and I couldn't get over all the things we had in common and how easy it was to talk with people we'd just met. I miss doing things with other couples. I don't know why it's so hard to make plans, but people's lives are busy with work and other commitments. Many of our friends have grown children, with their own children, who live in the area and they understandably want to spend time together. Last night reminded me how good it feels to spend time with a couple that shares similar interests.
I have been wondering what Ken and I can do to make new friends.
The universe sent us a couple from Cleveland who like hockey and play pinochle.
Well, I have their email address. When they visit Maine they stay in Freeport, where LLBean sponsors free Saturday night concerts all summer. Once the schedule comes out, I think I will send an email and offer to save them a seat. It seems like that's the least I can do ~
Ken and I are not obsessed with hockey. Once in a while we catch a game during the regular season. However, we do enjoy the post season, when the best hockey is played.
Last night was Game 4 and we'd made plans for a late dinner at our favorite pub to watch the game. The Bruins have brought their A-game in each of the three previous meetings and were up two games to one.
We were seated at the best table in the house, near a window on the Androscoggin River~
Which is just below the biggest television screen in the place~
There was a lot on the line for both teams. Detroit won the first game played in the Boston, but then lost in Boston and Detroit. Game 5 moves back to Boston, and Detroit would do well to head back to Bean Town even with the Bruins. The first period ended with Detroit up 1-0. By the start of the second period Ken and I had finished dinner and were enjoying our first cups of coffee...
when we were joined by another couple about our age. There were plenty of empty tables and room at the bar, but when they approached our table and asked if they could watch the game we said sure. After all, we did have the best table in front of the biggest screen.
They introduced themselves and it didn't take long for us to enjoy snippets of conversation during the commercials. Their home base is in Cleveland and they have grown children scattered throughout the Northeast in places we know well. We learned we have similar interests in music and theater. My ears picked up when the mentioned they play pinochle, which Ken and I also enjoy; not only do they play but she organized a "club" where four couples get together four times a year for a potluck supper and mixed couples' pinochle. I love that idea.
We enjoyed watching hockey and chatting and all cheered when the Bruins won in overtime. I said maybe we'd run into them again if they were in the area, and he gave us his card with a phone number and email address.
Ken and I couldn't get over all the things we had in common and how easy it was to talk with people we'd just met. I miss doing things with other couples. I don't know why it's so hard to make plans, but people's lives are busy with work and other commitments. Many of our friends have grown children, with their own children, who live in the area and they understandably want to spend time together. Last night reminded me how good it feels to spend time with a couple that shares similar interests.
I have been wondering what Ken and I can do to make new friends.
The universe sent us a couple from Cleveland who like hockey and play pinochle.
Well, I have their email address. When they visit Maine they stay in Freeport, where LLBean sponsors free Saturday night concerts all summer. Once the schedule comes out, I think I will send an email and offer to save them a seat. It seems like that's the least I can do ~
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Rural Mail Delivery
Snow started fast and furious last evening and fell well into the night. Ken was working late in New Hampshire and wisely decided to stay there instead of traveling the three hours home. We have five new inches, which is a manageable amount....
Until I need to shovel out the mailbox. That five inches turns into fifteen once the plow has cleared the road, and all that snow blocks the path to the mailbox ~
The mail carrier needs to access by car that buried mailbox ~
Which requires clearing the path on the way in ~
As well as the path on the way out ~
This is rural living. We do have a snow blower, which I find unwieldy and difficult to control. Ken likes me to leave the snow alone because I don't get the clean edges he does when he blows. That plan works until he's not here and I want the mail to be delivered.
I have always been willing and able to shovel now. At our old house I went to great effort and expense to have our cracked, bulging driveway excavated and paved. It took two contractors, two years, and several thousand dollars, but that driveway was a beauty to behold that I could shovel in about the time it takes me now to clean out the path to the mailbox. Ahhhh, rural living....
Until I need to shovel out the mailbox. That five inches turns into fifteen once the plow has cleared the road, and all that snow blocks the path to the mailbox ~
The mail carrier needs to access by car that buried mailbox ~
Which requires clearing the path on the way in ~
As well as the path on the way out ~
This is rural living. We do have a snow blower, which I find unwieldy and difficult to control. Ken likes me to leave the snow alone because I don't get the clean edges he does when he blows. That plan works until he's not here and I want the mail to be delivered.
I have always been willing and able to shovel now. At our old house I went to great effort and expense to have our cracked, bulging driveway excavated and paved. It took two contractors, two years, and several thousand dollars, but that driveway was a beauty to behold that I could shovel in about the time it takes me now to clean out the path to the mailbox. Ahhhh, rural living....
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Get Lost
Last week Ken started a job in a hotel at the base of Mount Washington. He invited me to come over to New Hampshire to stay a couple nights. It took no persuasion for me to say yes.
I like to travel. I consider myself an adequate traveler. I envision a day where I will pack a bag and be ready to go in under an hour.
Today was not that day. I finished loading and ran the dishwasher; I cleaned out the coffeemaker; I gathered all the clean, dry laundry to fold and put away; I cleared the kitchen counters and organized the desk; I checked blogs, sent emails, and found directions before I turned off the desktop computer; I unplugged everything I could and set the thermostats at 60 degrees; I finished packing, loaded the car, went back into the house for Luna bars, and was finally ready to leave.
Three and a half hours. Not my personal best but not my worst time either. I am beyond needing every surface to be dust-free before I leave on a trip.
I had detailed directions, a mishmash of secondary roads strung together to head west across the state of Maine and into the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I have traveled most of the route before but not often enough to remember all the twists and turns.
My first stop for verification that I was on the right track was in Bryant Pond, which wasn't specifically named on my list of towns and route numbers. Turns out I was where I needed to be.
I made it all the way to Bethel, almost to the New Hampshire line, when I took a wrong turn. At first I thought I could pull out a save by catching the road west further down the line but a look at the map showed I was on my way to southern Maine.
Backtrack, stop to ask for directions, make course correction, and proceed to destination.
Oh well. It goes without saying that "get lost" is on the to-do list for any trip I take.
With that out of the way, tomorrow I will see what the town of Littleton has to offer ~
I like to travel. I consider myself an adequate traveler. I envision a day where I will pack a bag and be ready to go in under an hour.
Today was not that day. I finished loading and ran the dishwasher; I cleaned out the coffeemaker; I gathered all the clean, dry laundry to fold and put away; I cleared the kitchen counters and organized the desk; I checked blogs, sent emails, and found directions before I turned off the desktop computer; I unplugged everything I could and set the thermostats at 60 degrees; I finished packing, loaded the car, went back into the house for Luna bars, and was finally ready to leave.
Three and a half hours. Not my personal best but not my worst time either. I am beyond needing every surface to be dust-free before I leave on a trip.
I had detailed directions, a mishmash of secondary roads strung together to head west across the state of Maine and into the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I have traveled most of the route before but not often enough to remember all the twists and turns.
My first stop for verification that I was on the right track was in Bryant Pond, which wasn't specifically named on my list of towns and route numbers. Turns out I was where I needed to be.
I made it all the way to Bethel, almost to the New Hampshire line, when I took a wrong turn. At first I thought I could pull out a save by catching the road west further down the line but a look at the map showed I was on my way to southern Maine.
Backtrack, stop to ask for directions, make course correction, and proceed to destination.
Oh well. It goes without saying that "get lost" is on the to-do list for any trip I take.
With that out of the way, tomorrow I will see what the town of Littleton has to offer ~
Monday, November 4, 2013
On The Radio
Ken asked me this weekend if I want to renew the subscription to satellite radio in my car. Without a moment's hesitation I said yes.
I first experienced satellite radio two years ago in a rented car. What a great invention! I couldn't get over the number of stations and the variety available. My go-to favorite station for those few days was Acoustic Coffeehouse.
So I was delighted to find that a three-month trial subscription for Sirius XM came with the Subaru we bought in 2012. Coffeehouse music all the time was my plan. Then Ken got hold of the menu of stations and plugged in the three available NPR stations for me, for which I still thank him. Then I found Oprah Radio and MSNBC. When it was time to pay for a year-long subscription I was hooked, so Ken "gave" me satellite radio for Christmas. I foresee that becoming a tradition..
Sometimes I plan my time in the car around what I can listen to on the radio.
Today I was running errands, in and out of the car, listening to a variety of news shows and interviews. I often change channels and follow three or four story lines at a time.
Sometimes something grabs my attention. Today that happened with an Oprah interview where the topic of forgiveness came up, which is a familiar theme in her interviews if you listen often enough. She shared a definition that catches my attention every time I hear it:
Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different.
Before, when I've heard Oprah say it, I thought about forgiveness in relation to forgiving other people. I like the phrasing. I like the positive implications of moving past what's over and done with. The message is to let go of what might have been.
Today I remembered that I can forgive myself, too.
I first experienced satellite radio two years ago in a rented car. What a great invention! I couldn't get over the number of stations and the variety available. My go-to favorite station for those few days was Acoustic Coffeehouse.
So I was delighted to find that a three-month trial subscription for Sirius XM came with the Subaru we bought in 2012. Coffeehouse music all the time was my plan. Then Ken got hold of the menu of stations and plugged in the three available NPR stations for me, for which I still thank him. Then I found Oprah Radio and MSNBC. When it was time to pay for a year-long subscription I was hooked, so Ken "gave" me satellite radio for Christmas. I foresee that becoming a tradition..
Sometimes I plan my time in the car around what I can listen to on the radio.
Today I was running errands, in and out of the car, listening to a variety of news shows and interviews. I often change channels and follow three or four story lines at a time.
Sometimes something grabs my attention. Today that happened with an Oprah interview where the topic of forgiveness came up, which is a familiar theme in her interviews if you listen often enough. She shared a definition that catches my attention every time I hear it:
Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different.
Before, when I've heard Oprah say it, I thought about forgiveness in relation to forgiving other people. I like the phrasing. I like the positive implications of moving past what's over and done with. The message is to let go of what might have been.
Today I remembered that I can forgive myself, too.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Timber Frame: Wood Siding And Metal Roof
This past weekend Ken finished the metal roof on the timber frame. I asked him if he was going to take down the scaffolding so I could take pictures. He said yes. Sunday night the scaffolding was still in place. I asked why, and he said he didn't know I meant I wanted it down right away. He went out in the dark and took it down. It's a good thing good communication isn't always a prerequisite for a good marriage. Here's the progress to date on the timber frame ~
The next job is to build doors, and Ken has plans for those. Then we will build a garden bench and start moving in gardening supplies and outdoor tools. Work is on schedule to be finished before winter arrives, which means there will be room for me to park my car in the garage before the snow flies, and that's a good thing.
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| Ken built extensions to the rafters so there could be eaves |
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| He attached planks with clamps so he could safely climb the roof |
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| Here Ken is almost finished with lumber on the roof |
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| The tarp tied over the roof made it hard to get photos for awhile |
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| Windows went in after the siding went on |
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| There's even a window in the back |
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| The metal roof was finished October 19 |
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| Four windows provide plenty of natural light |
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Empty Your Pockets
There are a dozen or so photos of my trip to Martha's Vineyard in my last post http://owlinmaine.blogspot.com/2013/09/marthas-vineyard.html. It gives a glimpse of the towns we visited, Oak Bluffs and Edgartown and Menemsha, in addition to the town of Vineyard Haven where we stayed. My new profile picture was taken by my daughter on the beach in Oak Bluffs.
The weekend before I left on vacation my front loading washing machine started making a horrible noise so loud that I heard it upstairs, like shrapnel shooting off somewhere in the drum. I stopped the machine but couldn't see anything inside. It was then okay to spin and drain, and it was quiet for the next load. The third load of laundry set it off again, a noise that sounded like metallic fireworks going off. We unplugged the machine, turned off the water, and I called a repairman.
The guy just left. I have called the service department to commend Jeff for his work; he found a problem that someone else might have missed. When he didn't hear faulty bearings and couldn't see anything amiss within the back of the machine, Jeff removed the front bottom panel to check the water pump. He figured out how to remove the trap and this is what he found:
two dozen coins, a battery, nails, a fuse, a razor blade, a pencil, and various other bits of metal. I can tell from the gunk present and the accumulated corrosion, things have been collecting for a long time. I will take credit for the piece of fabric [note to self: hand wash any tiny pieces of material] but the credit for the rest of the mess belongs to Ken. He has been washing his own work clothes for almost thirty years. I stress to him how important it is to empty his pockets. Obviously it's time for another lesson. We lucked out. The washing machine still works and it cost a fraction of what a new machine would cost to find the problem.
I looked closely to see how these things worked their way through the system. There is a slit in the metal under the rubber gasket, which I do clean periodically, where things must go when they work themselves free. Who knew? Now we know it's really important to empty your pockets!
The weekend before I left on vacation my front loading washing machine started making a horrible noise so loud that I heard it upstairs, like shrapnel shooting off somewhere in the drum. I stopped the machine but couldn't see anything inside. It was then okay to spin and drain, and it was quiet for the next load. The third load of laundry set it off again, a noise that sounded like metallic fireworks going off. We unplugged the machine, turned off the water, and I called a repairman.
The guy just left. I have called the service department to commend Jeff for his work; he found a problem that someone else might have missed. When he didn't hear faulty bearings and couldn't see anything amiss within the back of the machine, Jeff removed the front bottom panel to check the water pump. He figured out how to remove the trap and this is what he found:
I looked closely to see how these things worked their way through the system. There is a slit in the metal under the rubber gasket, which I do clean periodically, where things must go when they work themselves free. Who knew? Now we know it's really important to empty your pockets!
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