Summer Wrap-Up

Last week we had our first days of fall-like weather. Tuesday started off with clear skies and cool temperatures, and by noon it was pleasantly warm. Then clouds moved in with showers by late afternoon. This summer was one of the wettest summers anyone can remember. Two-thirds of the days in June brought rain and better than a dozen days in each of July and August. 

Luckily it did not rain the last weekend in August. That was the time my family decided in May that we would get together to celebrate my mom, their Grandma Ellie. I had some ideas about how the weekend would go but knew I needed to stay flexible. With my sons and their families and my daughter with her daughter, we had four kids ages two to nine and seven adults to consider. We were all in and out on Saturday and together for dinner, where I proposed a toast to my mom and remembered how fond she was of my kids and their families. 

The weather cooperated both days. Sunday we had tickets to a Portland Sea Dogs game, the minor league farm team for the Red Sox, and an event that my mom would have enjoyed as much as we did. The seats were perfect, and there was enough action and food to keep the kids happy. We didn't realize it was a double header until the end of the first game, so we had twice the fun. The day closed out with dinner at Applebee's, where I commented that my mom would have enjoyed the day and I thought there was a good chance she had a hand in how well everything worked out. 

It was the perfect way to wrap up the summer. 

June had been a time to work through so many thoughts and feelings I'd had over the past year, putting words to my grief and frustration so I could see it all in one place. For me, writing is a way to make sense of what I don't understand or connect what appears to be unrelated.

In July I was ready to create an album of the photos my mom had collected since she was a girl. I made new pages for an album she had and cross-referenced photos so each one was labeled and dated. The process of finally getting the photos mounted had been months in the making and felt like such an accomplishment. It was a way to bring together the people and events in her life that made her happy, that she wanted to remember. 

In the process of putting all the pieces together I had time to think about how my relationship with my mom had changed over the years. Neither one of us gave up on trying to understand the other. It wasn't always easy and there were times that we knew the other was frustrated and unable to see a different perspective. I realized that we had come to forgive each other for the hurt we felt, the misunderstandings and disagreements. We didn't ignore the past, but we were able to see that it was the past and we couldn't change it. 

In my Mothers Day card to my mom just days before she fell and was hospitalized, I wrote:

We stand where we are/ Because our steps brought us here/ Thank you for walking the way with me. 

I have that card now and am grateful that I had the chance to share what I felt. In recognizing the growth in the relationship with my mom, I have had time to think about the things in my own life that I wish had been different, decisions and choices that I would make differently now. Then I applied the meaning of forgiveness to my own life, giving up the hope that the past could have been any different.

With that, in July of this summer, I forgave myself. And like I've heard so many times, when the student is ready the teacher appears. For me, in so many ways....   

On July 31 I read a quote by Alden Howlan that someone posted on Instagram:

"The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise."

The journey continues....

Two Two Twenty-Two

I like numbers, the way they line up and go together. So I couldn't let 2-2-22 go by without making mention of it. Here we are in February 2022, nearly two years since life changed. Today is Day 695. 

With all the time at home I started knitting again. In February 2021 I finished my first blanket~

It's made with garter stitch, two strands of DK weight wool on a size 7 circular needle. My daughter had more than two dozen colors left over from a project and passed them on to me. Just for fun in November 2019 I played around with how they might go together if I ever got inspired~

I was glad I had taken a photo to reference when I was ready for a project. More than a year later I started Kaffe Fassett's Garter Stripe Shawl and was glad to to have a pick-up put-down project to work on that also kept my lap warm. I like the end result and thought I'd keep my eyes open for another  pattern.

******************

In December 2021 I read a post on the Modern Daily Knitting blog about knitting a "temperature blanket." The writer shared her color chart with coordinating temperatures and explained that it is up to the creator to decide the temperature increments and what colors to use. If you are on Instagram check out #temperatureblanket to see a variety of crocheted and knitted blankets. Anything goes really, and it's fun to see the different ways people have interpreted the concept.

I liked this idea for the next project to practice my knitting. I went to my wicker basket of yarn and picked out all the various skeins of worsted weight yarn to see what I could pull together. I started with 19 colors and assigned temperatures between zero and a hundred. I was about ten days in when I added dark blue for temps below zero. I decided to add two ridges of green at the start of each month [two rows of garter stitch make one ridge]. I'm using a size 5 circular needle.

Here's what January looks like~

Gray is for single digits. Three shades of purple for teens and low 20's. Little bit of light blue for upper 20's. I'm hoping for more blue this month.

Knit on~

Autumn Arrives

Today is number 199 of my pandemic experience. I was laying in bed a couple weeks back, unable to fall asleep, and started adding to when I last counted days I've been mostly at home. I landed on 178 and pondered that number for a bit ~ that's half the number of days in a leap year. It had been half a year since this whole mess started for me. And tomorrow it will be 200 days....

It seems that autumn has decided to give us a break this week. Last week the nights started getting colder and early this week we had scattered frost on the fields in the morning. When the seasons changed yesterday the temperatures warmed and a lovely warm breeze blew that demanded open windows. The rest of this week promises to be as beautiful. I have no excuse not to paint the exterior door jamb that Ken has repaired, and it actually looks pretty good with just the first coat.

I decided that this is the week to make all the phone calls and appointments that I have been putting off. I have a dentist visit tomorrow that was rescheduled months ago, and there is a list of protocols to follow to insure safety. Next door to that office is my optician, so I called today to see if they will take my glasses in for repair; I will call from the parking lot and they will retrieve my glasses from my car and give me an estimate on how long it will take. 

I called my doctor's office to see what I can work out to get flu shots and TDAP boosters for me and my husband. It took two days and four phone calls but it turns out we can schedule "drive in" vaccinations where a nurse meets us at our car for our shots. The scheduling will require another phone call but it's worth it.

We need the TDAP booster because we are expecting grandchild number four in early December. My younger son and his wife are having their first child, and we are all very excited. I am already plotting how I can quarantine for two weeks here before I go to Massachusetts to help out, probably around the first of next year. They have taken the "stay safely at home" as seriously as we have so they have been part of our "bubble," and they were back to visit over Labor Day weekend. Those days were relaxed and easy and made life seem normal, if only for a few days.

But really, there is very little that is normal about this time of a pandemic, continual racial injustice and violence against people of color, and corruption of the party in power like we have never seen in our country ~ all amidst wildfires and weather events ripping through parts of the country with increasing severity. When it seemed like it couldn't possibly get worse, last Friday we learned that Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died. I woke up Saturday in tears. I have moments of complete despair. Tonight I asked myself what might help, even a little bit, something I could do right now.

Writing would help. Reaching out. Connecting. Even my introverted self reaches a point where I can't do it all by myself any more. So here I am. 

I hope you are well. I will return....

Day 141

Twenty weeks...the number of weeks we have been mostly at home. The news for my town and county is excellent; according to the Maine CDC website there are currently 1-5 cases of COVID-19 in my town. My county has had a total of 43 cases, no deaths. Maine's positive rate for testing is currently under 1%.

We wear masks and social distance everywhere we go, even at the beach.

We are in a good place. Yet for some reason my anxiety has risen in the last ten days, probably over concern for family in the Boston area, schools everywhere making plans to reopen in some fashion, and my daughter's medical students return to campus in southern Maine. I will have grandchildren in school and a daughter-in-law who works in a public school. I have had trouble sleeping, also a result of hot, sticky weather in the last week. I wake early with thoughts gone wild if I don't consciously reign them in, breathe deeply, and talk my body into relaxing so I can at least rest if I can't get back to sleep.

Tonight the anxiety broke and I am grateful beyond words. It started with a video chat with my daughter about how things went today with my granddaughter. Then we started talking about how the situation with the virus looks statewide and by county. She follows the data closely, monitors updates from the Maine CDC, and tracks the latest medical findings about the virus. Her days are busy and we don't often have a chance for a long in-depth conversation about the current situation. She answers questions any family member has, though we don't take her time or position for granted. Maybe she got a sense of my anxiety. Whatever the reason we had a chance to talk, it has made all the difference in my perspective. I feel hopeful.

I appreciate people who read what I write, and every comment keeps me coming back though it has been weeks since I've posted here. I have all the time in the world and don't feel I am doing all that I want to or could do. That feeling has kept my thoughts spinning, second guessing ideas and plans.

I aim to jump that hurdle and move forward in the days to come. Perspective is everything. 

June Update

The start of summer marks the end of 15 weeks of "staying safe at home," the prosaic name the governor has given this period of time. One hundred five days. The 100th day of school is celebrated with games, math puzzles, stories, and special snacks. The particular 100-day mark that passed in this house last week was acknowledged for the fact that we are still healthy and have routines in place to get through the next hundred days and the hundred after that if need be.

Maine has not "opened" as quickly as some people would like, but the number of COVID-19 cases are holding steady; that's proof enough that we are doing things the right way. My osteopath's office has opened, but there are so many safety procedures in place that I have put off making an appointment. Ken has a dental appointment scheduled next month, so we'll see what that involves. My hair is the longest it has been in more than three decades, which isn't a choice so much as a product of the time. It's gotten to the point where it's manageable if I keep my bangs trimmed.

June has had the perfect weather. The first two weeks the days were in the 60's and nights in the 40's, with just enough rain to keep things watered and growing. The last week has been dry, though we do need rain at this point, and summer weather arrived at just the right time. Last weekend we made our first trip to the ocean and enjoyed the beach while social distancing. This weekend we enjoyed a socially distanced picnic dinner on my daughter's patio; our first take-out pizza in three months was delicious. Today I bought tickets online for a no-contact drive-in movie Friday night, a showing of "Back to the Future." It's an oldie but a goodie, and I will just enjoy looking up at the big screen.

This month our household jumped into the 21st century with a major technological advancement: we now have internet via fiber optic cable. The engineer, linemen, and technicians made all their visits and accomplished all their work while practicing social distancing. It was impressive. Fortunately, Ken knew how to do all the work that fell to the homeowners so we were able to get everything done in good time. And it works great! The first few days I was cautiously optimistic. Now that we've run multiple devices over a period of days at a variety of times in the house and on the deck, I am confident that we are all set. Tomorrow I will cancel the DSL service. If wifi calling works as we hope it will with our cell phones, I will cancel the land line next month. This development is a huge boon for our household for which I am grateful.

In the last few days I have decided that I am not ready to let go of teaching. I hadn't decided to "get done" and I don't like the idea of letting circumstances dictate that for me. I am not actively looking for a job as no one knows what school will look like in the fall; I have decided to maintain my certification which is up for renewal next year. My daughter-in-law shared info about quality online university courses she has taken, so I'm looking forward to taking two in the next several months. I love an excuse to go back to school.

The journey continues....

A Different Kind of July

This time of year is usually prime motorcycle-riding time for Ken. May was cold and rainy, and it wasn't until summer actually started that June turned warm and sunny. July is guaranteed to be good riding weather. Ken rides back roads, up and down the coast of Maine with an occasional foray inland. It's his time to be out and about and to stop for a slice of pie at some town's diner.

Ken's outings came to abrupt stop on June 28. He had stopped for a few groceries and was on his way home when a woman rolled through a stop sign and hit Ken's motorcycle. He was okay, though the bike went down. The back fender was dented, the tail light was cracked, and the roll bar was slightly bent. A police report was filed and he rode home. We knew the bike would be out of commission while it was repaired. We were not prepared to hear that the bike was totaled. Because of its age at 21 years and because of the way Harley Davidsons are constructed, it would cost more to repair the bike than the bike is worth on paper. Aside from the costs, some parts are no longer available. The settlement is not enough to replace "Hiatt" but will be put aside in a motorcycle fund and added to until the amount meets the purchase price of a "new" used bike.

This year the usual push and pull between riding the open road and working outside is not an issue, so this July became the month to address long-neglected landscaping. Ken dug and dug, and I helped where I could when it came time to fill and fill. I haven't yet bought any new plants but have put back what was there and transplanted from the next bed that needs to be dug out. Ken has gone so far as to rebuild support for the driveway and put in railroad ties for a new raised bed for blackberry bushes. For the first time since we've lived here I feel like it's possible to have a real shade garden. Ken plans to replace the rubber squares on the steps with stone pavers this fall.

Here's what it looks like so far~
Before:

 During:

 After:

The plaque on the stone is from Quebec and says Le Jardin. The flamingos are solar lights. All the border rocks are from our property. There's more to do but this feels like a good start.

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. 

Forty Days

That's how many student days are left in this school year. Any teacher in the building can tell you. It has been a long year. We are all worn down. It didn't matter what we did over April vacation last week - it just felt so good to have a break.

Teachers have zero control over snow days. The superintendent consults the director of public works about the roads, and he talks to other area school districts to see what they plan to do. Then by 5:00 a.m. he makes a decision to call a snow day or a late start if it looks like the roads will be passable in an additional two hours time.

Funny aside: Early one morning in mid-December Ken and I were just about to get up. We heard some lovely orchestral music coming from somewhere. Ken got up and checked the kitchen and living room. There was obviously music coming from somewhere but neither of us could identify from where. I got up and saw my phone blinking. No one calls that phone. I checked the number and then the message; it was a robocall from the superintendent's office that December 12 would be a snow day, our first one. I still don't remember giving them my cell phone number. From then on if it looked like weather would be an issue I went to sleep with my phone on the bedside table. It rang several more times throughout the winter.

The seven snow days were wonderful in real time. I didn't have to drive in bad weather, and each was a gift of a day where I could go back to bed and then spend the day doing whatever I wanted.

Now we pay the piper. The last day for teachers is June 22. That is the second day of summer.

I need to plan something really spectacular for June 23.

Loose Ends And Frayed Edges

A few days after my last post, where I shared that my word for the year is breathe, I moved a bookcase and found behind it a vision board I made six years ago. I had forgotten I stashed it there once it was obvious there was nothing on it relevant to the way my life was working out. However, something caught my eye before I moved the board to the garage, a small piece of paper in the corner. It is a poem titled Climbing The Ridge by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer:

        one step / one step / i stop / i take

one breath / one breath / warm sun

above / white snow / below

i breathe / i take / one step / one step

It turns out that there was something relevant to my life on that vision board, and it now sits in a place of prominence on my desk.

I was moving furniture that day to make room for a new couch I was finally ready to order. I have been looking for the perfect sectional for two years. The search has been fun, a reason to explore furniture stores and talk to salespeople. Early February I invited an interior designer to take a look at the living room to see what she thought of the fabric and sectional I had decided on. She agreed the colors and size would work. Then she called in early March to say there was a sale on, and I told her I would be in before the end of the month.

Well, you know what they say about best laid plans. 

There was a heavy snowstorm March 14, and our seventh snow day was the result. The next day schools started two hours late to allow time for roads to be cleared. It was a sunny day. My morning was relaxed. I headed into work. Less than two miles from my house I saw a neighbor plowing out his driveway. I hit the brakes and the horn, and I would have had time and room to stop if I hadn't hit ice. I went as far to the other side of the road as I could, but he backed into my front end at full speed. The airbag deployed. I was okay but stunned. The driver took full responsibility but that didn't help my car, which was in excellent condition with many years of traveling left in her. He was driving an uninsured, unregistered heavy duty tow truck that hadn't been inspected for decades.

Nine days later I learned that the collision center, which was originally going to do the repairs, determined that the damage was too extensive. My car was declared a total loss. There were many phone calls to follow up, and three and a half weeks after that the claim was finally settled. 

I have a new car instead of a new couch. I named her Bluebelle. I need to go back to the dealer to meet with one of their tech gurus to learn how to use all the bells and whistles. 

Two weeks ago I saw my osteopath. I described the accident and how I felt frayed, on edge and jumpy. It took some time for me to realize the full extent of how the accident affected me. I would burst into tears at the oddest times and was having weird dreams. She treated me, which helped, and prescribed rest during April vacation, which was last week. 

I did get some rest. I was also able to tie up some other loose ends. More on that next time. 

In the meantime, remember to breathe.

March Happens

March is a long month.  This year it is particularly long, or seems so, because there are eight long weeks between February break and April vacation.  At this point students are halfway through four weeks of standardized testing.  The weather has been all over the map, literally, and brought two snow days last week, Monday for snow and Friday for ice.

I decided weeks ago to attend a conference on the 31st.  It was a good call.  I always go into a day like today with the thought that I will learn something new and the hope that I will meet someone interesting.  Both things happened today.  I learned the details of a unique initiative to bring state-of-the-art technology to four counties in our state.  I find it encouraging that such a project has been successful.  The interesting person was a woman I met on the walk into the conference from the parking lot.  We laughed about not knowing where we were going and crossed paths later as we enjoyed pastries after registration.  I was pleased when we caught up with each other at lunch and had a chance to talk about common interests.  I know where she works and might get a chance to catch up with her again.

March leaves things unfinished.  In 1978 Ken and I traveled to Maine in March to explore the possibility of living in the state, and two months later we moved here.  In March many years later we moved to where we live now, and that story is still being written.

Eight years ago in March I started this blog.  There were a number of us who started blogging about the same time and somehow found each other in cyber space.  We were in various states of transition ~ children growing up, careers changing ~ and it was wonderful to have a chance to share our stories.

Many of those women have stopped blogging, and I miss their voices.  I am grateful for the women who continue to share their stories and take time to comment here.  I feel like so much is still up in the air for me all these years later, while others have made progress toward their dreams and moved on.

Another March has passed.  Time will tell how the journey continues....   

Mid Winter

Winter is half over, and schools in Maine just had their first snow day on Friday. More snow is predicted in the next couple days. Although we haven't had a lot of snow, the deer are hungry. For the first time ever they have eaten the leaves on the rhododendron~

There is not a leaf left on any of the three bushes. Though they have never bloomed, the plants provided a welcome splash of green at the edge of the woods.

Friday's snow was the type that clings to every surface. The white backdrop was perfect for the lights on the railing~

We've never had outside holiday lights before. I didn't expect to enjoy the evening's nightlight as much as I do. The string of color may stay until spring~

Not

I did not win Powerball. I can honestly say I was disappointed. There were winners, regular people like me who bought tickets because at some point someone, or more than one someone, was going to win the jackpot. I thought, "Why not me?" Well, not this time but I will try again.

I did not get the job I interviewed for ten days ago. I was grateful to get the call because it meant that someone looked at my application and thought it was worth giving me a look-see. The interview was thorough; they were as interested in what I am currently doing in certain situations as they were in what I would do in the position they need to fill. I felt good about my answers but obviously I was not the best candidate. I will keep applying.

We have not had a snow day yet this winter. Snow has arrived overnight with time to clear the roads or the storms have waited for the weekend. I like snow days. They are gifts of time that are unexpected and much appreciated. I hope we don't go the whole winter without a snow day.

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?

I Am Not Invisible

Dear Hair Stylist,

I appreciate the phone message you left at 4:24 on Tuesday to apologize for running late.  I do not plan to reschedule.

It had already been a bad day.  I stood outside in the cold rain for 50 minutes on recess duty and wasn't able to get warm the rest of the afternoon.  As I left the building for my 4:00 hair appointment I passed the library where staff had gathered to interview for the two positions for which I applied but was not invited to interview.

When I arrived at the shop there were others waiting.  By 4:10 everyone else had been attended to, so I confirmed at the desk that I had a 4:00 appointment.  Yes, they said, and you were running late.  I watched you chatting and laughing with the woman in your chair.  I calculated the minimum I could ask you to do so I could meet my later commitment.  At 4:18 you and she walked past me into another room without acknowledging my presence.  If I was in the chair by 4:20 I'd be okay; I had 30-40 minutes for a haircut but not 50-60.  But you didn't return.  I asked myself what I needed to do to feel okay.  At 4:20 I told the woman at the desk I had to leave.

I do like the way you cut my hair.  I do not like the way I feel in the shop where you work.

Sincerely,
Sharon

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.

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.

Under The Weather

Seven days.  Three snowstorms.  Thirty-six inches of snow.  Three snow days.

That describes the last week of January.

It was the snow days that made it possible for me to make it through the week.  I was able to muster the energy to work Monday and Thursday, but I don't know how many other days I would have made it to school.  I have been sick with sinus pressure, headache, stuffy head, sore throat, swollen glands, cough, and runny nose.  The symptoms keep cycling through so that just as I think I'm getting better something else pops up.  Other than some wooziness this morning, I felt better today.  Maybe whatever this was meant for me to ease out of January. 

I took it slow but still managed to keep up with laundry, make a dozen new cloth napkins, reserve places for my daughter and me at a quilting retreat in August, order new artwork for the bedroom, move furniture in the living room, and enjoy full hours at a time reading a new book.

There have been missteps, too.  My brain took a holiday yesterday - when I wasn't feeling any better I neglected to cancel plans with a friend and forgot to let my daughter know I wouldn't be coming by.  That's not like me.  I'm usually on top of schedules and make it a priority to keep commitments.  Those lapses are the downside of not feeling well and giving into that feeling.

An upside has been that I haven't been hungry.  Since the first of the year I have favored cookies, chips, and wine.  Being sick has broken that cycle, and I've been drinking less coffee, also a good thing.  It's a good time to start some new habits.

Fresh start today, the 1st of February.  It was sunny and the temperature got into the teens.  The Patriots won the Super Bowl.  A day like today could give a person hope...

Except that there are several inches of snow predicted for tomorrow. 

January Reprieve

It happened Monday ~ sunshine streamed through the windows and the temperature climbed into the thirties.  I was home for the day and had the opportunity to relish the light and warmth. 

The day was a glorious reprieve from the previous two weeks of frigid cold.  Two days the temperatures were so low that we had inside recess, and the other days registered in the high teens and low twenties with the wind chill, which makes for a cold forty-five minutes outside.

This week is warmer.  We haven't had a repeat of Monday's temps but it has made it into the twenties with no wind and the sun shining each day.  It also helps that I have a new coat.  I found the perfect knee-length parka at LLBean in December, but I refused to pay full price.  I figured if the coat was meant to be mine I would find it on sale after the holidays.  Last Friday, with the mercury down around zero, I found one coat in my size on deep clearance at the LLBean Outlet in Freeport.  With my new fleece-lined wool mittens and my boots with wool liners I am now toasty warm every day. 

Life is challenging enough without being cold.

I will admit that my feelings have been somewhat frozen since the first of the year, stalled in time.  Bit by bit there has been a thaw, and like frozen fingers that slowly warm there have been fresh pangs of pain, new twinges of realization.

It is in this context of weather and emotion that I have considered the choice of a word for 2015.  This is not a process I force and two years ago no word made itself clear. 

For 2011 the word "unafraid" was front and center.

In 2012 the word "possibility" presented itself and was the theme for the year.

Last year the word "release" was my guide.

Since the holidays, a few words have come to mind, words too passive for all that has already been said and done this year.  I need a strong word, a positive message for my heart and mind.  I want a word that signifies openness, light, and warmth.  I want a word that encompasses a healing heart, feelings other than sadness and anxiety, and new ways of thinking.

My word for 2015 is "freedom."  I knew I had made the right choice when I heard Janis Joplin on the car radio singing, "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose."

It is also a word for all I have to gain.

Change Takes And Gives Time

Don't rush April.  Unfamiliar words but ones I uttered more than once this year.  I thought the month was almost over only to realize we were barely halfway through.   

Part of it was the weather, slow to warm and unable to encourage all the usual suspects to bloom before May arrived.  Maybe I thought rushing the month would also rush warmer temperatures, but that didn't work.

Part of it was the way I have been paying attention to what I am doing and how I am feeling and asking why.  This is hard to describe without sounding like I've been totally self-absorbed.  I have not turned into a complete hermit, and it's not like the people around me are aware of what I'm doing.  When my chest feels tight, I think about where I am, who I am with, and what I am doing.  When I am feeling relaxed I ask the same questions.  I focus on my breathing and take stock of what the rest of my body is doing and feeling.  This process makes me hyper aware of the passage of time, and the result has been a lengthening of my days.

And part of the reason for the longer-than-usual month of April is that I am changing patterns and routines.  Before I do something physical I ask if there is a way to do it I haven't tried before.  I have rearranged furniture in the three rooms where I spend most of my time.  I have stopped trying to manage my emotions ~ the tears come and I allow them to flow; I laugh more easily; I have said what I felt instead of squashing my words, and yes, I have felt the need to apologize.

During my massage on Friday I said that the tightness in my chest now feels like more of a vibration than an ache.  The feeling has become a signal to pay attention.  My massage therapist picks up on those small changes and notices the correlating changes she feels in my body.

She and I are both movie buffs, and we like to compare notes during my massage.  She was working on my right shoulder when I started describing the premise of one of my favorite baseball movies,  Moneyball.  It is the true story of how Billy Beane used statistics to draft and trade players based on their on-base percentages in order to build a winning team on a limited budget.  I had watched the movie the afternoon before.  As general manager Beane didn't care what position the player used to play; he could teach a catcher to play first base.  All that mattered was the player's ability to get on base. I described in great detail how Beane convinced players to stop doing what they thought they did best: Steal bases?  Not anymore - get on base and stay there.  Bunt?  Nope - hit the ball and get on base.  Billy Beane convinced players to change their habits and the team had a twenty-game winning streak, the first ever in American League baseball.

My shoulder released and I had an "aha" moment: It's not easy to change habits but there may be unexpected and extraordinary rewards when I do.  It's worth the effort to keep trying.

After the massage Ruth handed me a tiny orange origami crane she'd made that morning.  She reminded me that orange is the color of the second chakra, the place of personal power with ourselves and others.  Since February I have written daily in a small orange journal my daughter gave me.  I write one sentence about my day.  That simple act has encouraged me to start journaling again.

The journey continues....

*Follow-up note about the cat that showed up at our door one Friday night.  A woman who lives a quarter mile down the road, and deeper in the woods than we do, learned on Facebook from another neighbor that we had rescued a cat.  She called me Tuesday morning and I told her the cat was at the shelter.  The next day the shelter posted a photo of the reunion on FB.  Full circle.  

Change Of Place

Today I took my friend Ruby to our traditional "spring is here" lunch at Fat Boy's, a local institution where the special is a BLT made with Canadian bacon.  The sun appeared this morning, after 36 hours of snow, sleet, freezing rain, and rain.  I didn't want to tempt fate, but I thought we needed to do our part to encourage the onset of spring.

My timing was good.  Ruby said she'd love to go to lunch.

The phone rang after I called to issue the invitation.  It was Ruby calling me back.  She needs help to finish getting settled into her new place.

In late January Ruby found another place to live.  She started looking last fall when her daughter broke the news that she was listing for sale the property they shared.  Three weeks into the new year a friend in town offered to rent Ruby the in-law apartment on the back of her house, which is just a quarter of a mile down the road from Ruby's cottage.  It was the best case scenario because Ruby was going to have to move eventually.  The new place has privacy, plenty of room for Ruby and her dog, and lots of outdoor space with fields and woods.

Ruby barely had time to digest the reality of her move when she learned that her daughter had received an offer to buy the property, including the house and cottage, where Ruby has lived for the last fifty years.  Initially the new owners-to-be said that Ruby did not need to rush to move. 

Mid-February things changed.  Ruby got a call that she needed to be out of the cottage by March 16.  I visited with her before I left for California and offered to help her start packing.  Ruby had been paring down her possessions since last fall, but she was not yet ready to put her things in boxes. 

By the time I returned home Ruby was moved into her new place.  She says she is lucky to be where she is, but the transition has been chaotic.  It's hard enough to move when it's your own idea and you do things on your own schedule.  When you are 81 years old and forced to leave your chosen home, where you planned to live forever, it is emotionally and physically taxing.  Ruby is exhausted.

Her family and friends have been helpful with the move.  Every time I have been to visit I have asked what I can do to help, and she asks me to take the dog out or she wants to sit and visit.  When she called me back this morning I was ready to do whatever I could to help allay some of the chaos Ruby is feeling.

I arrived at her place ready to organize and put things in order.

Despite her phone call, Ruby didn't want my help with the apartment.  She asked me to take the dog out, and then she laid out plans for what we could do on our outing.  On our way to lunch we stopped to see her daughter's apartment, and after lunch we stopped to buy dog food.  Back at her place we took the dog for a walk and sat at the picnic table soaking in the sunshine.

Ruby thoroughly enjoyed lunch.  She repeatedly commented on the beautiful day and the warmth of the sun.  She said that things will eventually get settled at the apartment, that today she was too tired to do any more.  I needed to honor that, as much as I wanted to do more.  So much has been out of her control that it's important for me to help in ways that she feels will help her the most.

The most I can do is be her friend.