Havent written in a while. Dont know where to begin, or what to say so I'll just ramble off the top of my head, and if things end midstream, you'll understand that I am out of practice....
Not into any huge or monumental changes in terms of New Year's resolutions, mainly because I know from experience, and my own nature that trying to turn a leaf from one day to another simply doesnt work. The intent is there but the set-up for failure, when drastic measures are attempted, is huge. I do not want to do that anymore.
And I dont want to stalk the infertility blogs anymore either. I'm done with it. No kids. Okay, that's Life. Have cried most of the tears I think I can cry, have settled into my Life 'as it is', and I have a FABULOUS man, and many things to be so very grateful for, which I am. Moreover, actually, I realize, that I find children sometimes quite annoying. I'm getting too old, obviously, to think of parenthood now. So here I am, and I accept now what is.
Everyone wish me Mazeltov please. This is very large.
So it is about baby-steps, right? (No pun intended) Being present and mindful in the moment. Being aware and gentle with myself, as I am always reminding myself that change and healing never happened in an atmosphere of judgment. Not ever, not once. And I am so good at self- judgment....
Work is good. I am claiming a space for myself and just taking charge where I can and that seems to be going over well. Mostly I just love the hubbub and constant stream of people coming and going. I get to be as goofy and silly as I want. In short, back on the main floor, I can be myself. My job is to take their money and make them smile. A laugh is even better. I like what I do. I am good at what I do and mostly I know what I am talking about. It isn't getting me out of the poor house, but I have a few ideas brewing....
B is away during the week, off island on a big project but comes home weekends. This is a bit stressful, as one might imagine, with 4 dogs, 4 cats and a household to run while holding down a full time job. Who am I to complain? I have a job after all. And I have the beasties and B. But I am tired now, have been for ages, since B's back went out this summer.
I didn't tell you about that, did I? No, of course not because I haven't written in donkey's ages. B ruptured two discs and nearly had to have surgery this past summer, but we were relieved to learn from the neuro-surgeon that his progress was coming along, and that spelled well for his prognosis. He's almost back to normal now, although still has a bit of sluggishness in one leg, but little pain. Which is the main thing. His pain was terrible.
You should know that he didn't sleep for three weeks. Not more that 2 hours a night. I would have been stark raving mad, and would have been committed ( or much more likely would have first committed a very bad act, like homicide, for example) had I been in his shoes, but not him. No. Still, it took a toll on us and we are both recovering from it, emotionally and financially. I lost it a few times, just seeing him go thorough it, and I wasn't the one in excruciating agony.
Meanwhile, I've been laying low. Feeling insular and not wanting to blog. Just wanting to be here and now and quiet. Dealing with things in general. And trying to maintain a semblance of constancy and normalcy. A challenge at the best of times, being the unruly and undisciplined type I am and who the hell is 'normal' anyway?! No one I'd want for a friend, that's probably for sure. I like the eccentric. As I often say, 'I have an elliptical orbit' and I like others who do too!
And, speaking of not-normal, Mum was here for Christmas as usual and, all graces and mercies to be thanked, stayed with my brother for a change (its his bloody turn after 4 years of twice yearly visits, summers lasting four or more weeks at a time, thank you very fucking much) , so things weren't so difficult. Not for me anyway. My brother finally 'gets it'. Huh. Will wonders never cease?
My best friend's girl, my 'Goddess daughter', is expecting her first child. ( Yegads. ) She's going to be a wonderful mother! :) Cultural biases and societal norms aside, I really think that we have a biological mandate to mate and create off-spring early in life. We are physically designed that way. Looking at it from that perspective, I think 19 is actually a very excellent age to have one's first Babby..... :) In the next couple of days her latest ultrasound will tell us the gender of the baby. Once I know I'll begin working on a quilt. 16 years ago I made one for my Goddess daughter's third birthday, with the phases of the moon and horses running round the borders, flowers appliqued all over it, and stars stitched all throughout.. It is gorgeous. I brought it from Canada to England and it is still one of her most beloved possessions. Fitting that her child should have a quilt too now.....I hope it will last, as the first one did, from one generation to the next. Wow. That makes me think....What kind of a monumental, statement is that? I never thought I would have an impact on the connectedness or continuum from one generation to another, but it seems I am doing just that. That's utterly lovely, don't you think?
I have a new computer, which I got for Christmas. It has bells and whistles which wont ring or...well, whistle. ..and it wont speak to my email server neither. It wont recognize it's OWN serial number or Goddamned password, nor let me open applications I need, so other that my hotmail address, I cant receive my regular mail. How annoying is that ? Maddening even (might I say that is the understatement of the decade?! I have been tearing my hair out! However, one of the mac geniuses on the Island has agreed to help me. Really, I thought Macs didn't do this kind of thing.... probably I messed things up in the initial set-up. Technologically challenged person that I am. My old imac has just given up the ghost with alarming timing. As though it knew it was to be put out to pasture just as I tried to set up the new one beside it. I tried to boot the old one up to get at my mail, which was never a problem before, and it went all weird, the colours being strange too, the image trembling and wavery, and I thought, 'Oh my Gawd, it's gonna blow! " Unplugged it right quick!)
All things being equal, I may not have my health entirely, struggling with the usual winter bug, but things is more or less business as 'unusual' I.e: Plus ca change, plus c'est le meme chose. Get use to it Christie. Roll with the punches. Count the numerous blessings: Kittens are wonderful. Cats are fab. Dogs are a joy and hale and hearty. B's well, and I am ultimately just fine.
I hope everyone is well, business as unusual being what it is especially at this time of year, and I wish you all Light, happiness and many Blessings in the coming year.
Love, Bird.
Showing posts with label life in general. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life in general. Show all posts
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Opportunity Knocks....
... I think. I think so.
I had my assessment at work today. Long overdue. Got a small raise (thank you). And was offered a different position in the company, which months ago I had coveted, but was not allowed as I hadnt the computer skills and there wasnt a place for me. At that time I had covered another employee who was ion holiday for two weeks and I loved it so much upstairs that I had asked to be transferred. But it didnt happen...Turns out things are shifting now, months later, as a result of my hard work learning how to use the computer (I hate PC's) and the departure of the former furniture buyer/manager.
I was praised today for my creativity and for how far I've come since I started. That was nice.
Did I mention that a few weeks ago I told management I needed to cut my hours, at least for the summer? Well I did.
Today I told the company that I would think about it (quickly) and let them know. I told them that I, quite frankly, couldnt afford to work there full time or even four days a week, but I really LOVE my job there, and I love the company. Which I do. So I thought about it...for about a nanosecond. Though I wanted to give myself some space and to talk to B about it (He's all for it) and to let them, well, really WANT me. I know already. I'll take it. My raise isnt contingent on me taking this new position, but moving UP is, and I know that. This is an offer to at the least have a chance of moving forward there.
Down the road I will hopefully have the possibility (assuming all goes well) to become a buyer - as had been promised me when I started- however, that plan fell through when the combination of characters involved didnt 'gel'... as in I found myself in a nest of viperous bitches, none of whom wanted to relinquish their petty control and train me, so that I was left rudderless and swinging in the wind, utterly insecure.... but most of whom I liked well enough, it has to be said, each on their own. The combination of people, and their brand of clique-ism, and negativity was deadly for me. I had to get out.
So I've been cultivating my skills meanwhile, and charming our clients, and generally making everyone happy.
I have a good feeling about this. I will be surrounded by beautiful things. The job will involve sales, some interior design elements and the usual...Freight. But that's ok. And I like the main person I'll be working with. She's 'animal people'.
So, we have options. And life moves forward. Tune in next time. Same Bat time, same Bat channel.
(Did I tell you that New Life in the house would bring new energies and new options? That Life/The Universe would respond and so would I? Huh. When I'm right I'm right!)
I had my assessment at work today. Long overdue. Got a small raise (thank you). And was offered a different position in the company, which months ago I had coveted, but was not allowed as I hadnt the computer skills and there wasnt a place for me. At that time I had covered another employee who was ion holiday for two weeks and I loved it so much upstairs that I had asked to be transferred. But it didnt happen...Turns out things are shifting now, months later, as a result of my hard work learning how to use the computer (I hate PC's) and the departure of the former furniture buyer/manager.
I was praised today for my creativity and for how far I've come since I started. That was nice.
Did I mention that a few weeks ago I told management I needed to cut my hours, at least for the summer? Well I did.
Today I told the company that I would think about it (quickly) and let them know. I told them that I, quite frankly, couldnt afford to work there full time or even four days a week, but I really LOVE my job there, and I love the company. Which I do. So I thought about it...for about a nanosecond. Though I wanted to give myself some space and to talk to B about it (He's all for it) and to let them, well, really WANT me. I know already. I'll take it. My raise isnt contingent on me taking this new position, but moving UP is, and I know that. This is an offer to at the least have a chance of moving forward there.
Down the road I will hopefully have the possibility (assuming all goes well) to become a buyer - as had been promised me when I started- however, that plan fell through when the combination of characters involved didnt 'gel'... as in I found myself in a nest of viperous bitches, none of whom wanted to relinquish their petty control and train me, so that I was left rudderless and swinging in the wind, utterly insecure.... but most of whom I liked well enough, it has to be said, each on their own. The combination of people, and their brand of clique-ism, and negativity was deadly for me. I had to get out.
So I've been cultivating my skills meanwhile, and charming our clients, and generally making everyone happy.
I have a good feeling about this. I will be surrounded by beautiful things. The job will involve sales, some interior design elements and the usual...Freight. But that's ok. And I like the main person I'll be working with. She's 'animal people'.
So, we have options. And life moves forward. Tune in next time. Same Bat time, same Bat channel.
(Did I tell you that New Life in the house would bring new energies and new options? That Life/The Universe would respond and so would I? Huh. When I'm right I'm right!)
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Sunny day...
For a change. :)
People get giddy this time of year when the sun comes out. Understandable when we've had nearly non-stop rain since November. Everyone was cheerful at work and I tried valiantly to meet cheerful with happy, and although I'm not unhappy, as such, I am trying to hold The Lurgy at bay. So far moderately successfully, downing massive amounts of vitamins, but I can feel it creeping in. Ugh. I DONT want to get sick!
I should be taking advantage of the longer days and today's sunshine to take the dogs to the ravine this evening, but after a long day at work, and feeling kind of crappy and dizzy, I hardly have the energy. I spent the last three days on the couch, except for running the dogs yesterday ( when they had a great run and had squillions of fun, snarfing around, bareling full till up hill and down dale, jumping over logs and swimming in the creek, digging great wholloping holes in the path for which I had to reprimand them, and generally carrying on like happy wolves in dogs clothing, which of course they are, at heart), so I expect they will forgive me. They are playing outside in the yard now. Enjoying the late afternoon sun.
I dont know if it is the bug I am fighting or the change in climate/daylight but I've been lethargic lately. Physically and emotionally. And I cannot say either that I've been depressed, but the 'internal dialogue' which we all have in our heads has been particularly loud of late, and that wears me down. Sometimes the noise is such a cacophany that I become overwhelmed. Hearing voices? Maybe I'm crazy.....
I rationalise this by telling myself that I have many aspects to my Self, and right now they are all trying to be heard all at once, so I cant hear a damned thing, let alone hear myself think. Sometimes I shout at them, "Who are you?! What do you want from me?! What do you want me to do?!" Sometimes I talk to them softly, and say, "Just give me some space, please, so I can get this and that done, and then you can have the last word".
I've often wondered what it would be like to have multiple personalities. I think we all have a touch of this. Some of us are more border-line than others. It would make my life so much easier if I could identify the conversations, the running commentary and be able to label them, put them in a safe box and hear them out, one by one. Name them. Understand the bits of myself that need to be heard, that need to be understood or that need to come out of the shadows into the light. It would help to be able to confidently say: This opinion comes from the 'observer', this one comes from the 'judgmental bitch' that one comes from the one who worries all the time; this one is a frightened person, young, and she's lonely, while that one over there, very quiet today, says that things always work out, there IS a Plan at work, and we are moving forward in our evolution as a species, and there is beauty and HOPE everywhere, if we look for it. Probably HER name is Pollyanna...
Mental health is so fragile. We can be on top of the world one minute and slip off the edge in another, hardly knowing how it happened. I'm not falling off the edge, but feel rather like I'm sitting right on it, at the moment, with the sharp edge staring me in the face. And I dont know why. Is it because things are okay? Too okay? Is that it? Am I so used to drama, trauma, and struggle that coasting for a while, and the euphoria I feel, the well-being I experience with a daily rhythm which makes sense and works well doesnt give my brain the "I'm terrified' chemicals it is used to, so I somehow manufacture anxiety to feed that addiction?
Comfort, constancy and normalcy, the sense that all is unfolding gently as it should is a foreign experience to me. I fear complacency. Because usually, in my experience, just when you get settled, all hell breaks loose and the excrement hits the rotating blades. I mistrust happiness. How warped is that?! And yet I am reminded of what my step father used to say, bless him, he said, "Let the shit hit the fan... it makes good fertilizer". yeah, thanks dad! :)
I have been having heart palpitations and shortness of breath. It isnt my heart, I'm pretty sure of that. Could be I've been smoking less (a lot less as I am not 100% well), and my body is going, "Hey, where's my fix?" and offering symptoms to indicate its temper tantrum. It feels like the onset of an anxiety attack, but never goes there. Which might help, even, since after the horrible and frightening experience of freaking out (and inevitably there is the point where one feels for absolute certain that one is going to die - you will know this is true if you've ever experinced it, and if you havent, let me tell you, it ain't fun) . Usually I crash afterward, and dont worry about anything anymore. I'm too tired to. The calm after the storm. I havent had a full blown anxiety attack in years, but this feeling, this sense of anxiousness, these days this can last hours at a time.
I'm still taking my happy pills, but havent taken any anti-anxiety pills in over a month, and nor have I taken sleeping pills in 6 months (which I only ever took as a last ditch desperate resort anyway, prefering Nyquill,or gravol, limiting myself to two or at most three, of any of the above, nights a month). Time for a chat with Dr. wonderful, perhaps?
I'm not sleeping well. I've mentioned that already, I know. I'm repeating myself, sorry. Sleep deprivation is something I dont deal with in a good way. It just makes me totally crazy. Quite literally. Emotional, wobbly and irritable. Paranoid even. So maybe I'm just run down and sleep deprived. Maybe the noise in my head is about some stuff, inner garbage, old baggage that is rearing its ugly head so it can be released. It has to come out somehowm, Goddammit. I know that right now I'm relatively stable ( reality being relative) so its an opportunity for the crap to come out. Maybe its an old anniversary I've forgotten.... I was sent to an Aunt in Newfoundland for temporary fostering probably close to this time of year when I was about 4 and 1/2 or 5, or maybe its a miscarriage. One of the three. I cant remember when they happened... Blocked them out... but last night I dreamt I had a miscarriage. I just know something's going on and I cant connect to it, give it a NAME, reason through it, or rationalise it away. It is happening and I just have to trust the process and ride the wave. There is something percolating, bubbles rising, and when they burst at the surface, I expect a word, or a picture/memory or a REASON to be born into the air, to be expressed into consciousness... something, tangible, on the lips of the mouth that whispers in my ear, "Something is going on...". But no....
Meanwhile. Spring is making herself known day by day and warming the earth. Softly softly. The baby little plants are beginning to stick their fragile tiny fronds gently out of the ground, so tentatively, and buds are forming on trees, unfurling just ever so slightly to make that inimitable Springtime green peach-fuzz haze... almost there, but not quite yet. My forsythia is blooming and the crocuses are up; daffodils are putting up their long, spiky leaves, but not ready to bloom. Like me maybe? The clematis didnt die after all but is putting out a huge cluster of shoots, as is the honeysuckle, prolific and mad with winding up the wire fence surrounding the veggie garden; although it seems the trumpet vine went the way of Vaudeville..... sadly. The deer didnt help with their brutal 'pruning' last summer.
The idea though, the dream of green, is at hand, and we all know by now that ideas make our reality. Our thoughts can and do shape our reality. We know this. That which we hold in our thoughts and dreams, is that which we manifest....
Are the trees thinking of Spring? Are my poppies thinking, "Right, days are longer so its time to send up those leaves"...? Are the wild roses, still asleep, dreaming of sunny days as the nutrients slowly are drawn through their roots, into their sap, bringing the message that its time to wake up and make flower buds? Do we all grow instinctively, like this? Maybe that is what sets us apart from plants and animals, ultimately.... the need to understand the process and to know why. The need to measure it, to mark it. To know, be aware of HOW to do it. To choose how to do it.
Frankly, I dont know how.
In shaping my own reality I know my attention to things, and my perspective is everything. I can chose what colour my lenses are. I can chose rose coloured glasses, or not. I can choose green or grey or black. I am noticing more and more that when I do that, when I look at things a certain way and set/choose my 'intent' my life opens up. 'Coincidental' events seem to bring opportunities to make me happy. 'Coincidence' seems to conspire with sweet Serendipity and I make connections, with people, with events, with my conversation with Life. 'When I change the way I look at things, the things I look at change....' I know all these things in my head and am working with them consciously, and with a lot of attention and effort. Why then do I feel like a bag is over my head and I am walking blind?
I went into the studio the other day, and left soon after, noticing the mess, and feeling resentful about it. Not all of it is my mess. Some of it belongs to the renovation and its materials being stored there. Not using the space for that reason is a pitiful excuse. Maybe that is what this flatline feeling is about. Guilt. Every day I don't do something in the studio, I feel guilty. (AHA! THAT'S the internal judge, jury and executioner, right there! That's good. I named that one.)
At the end of the day, I suppose, the best thing to do is accept that there is a process at work here, an internal process that has no words to offer me, and one that I cannot name. No explanation. I have to trust that the Process itself knows, like a tree waking up, what it is doing, and it is going about its business as it is meant to.
I feel strongly that I need to have a conversation with Life. A dialogue. A living, breathing give-and-take. I need to know why. And likewise, I need to have words so I can box up an experience and tell myself, "This is what this thing is" and make it safe for myself. Or at least understood. Contain it.
I am not getting the feedback I need here, and I'm feeling lost and afraid. I have no words to rationalise this. Maybe that's why my head is so full of them, clamouring, tumbling over each other, like a river of words, tumbling over stones, rushing over me. Its not that I am not listening, is it? Are all of the scattered bits of me, floating out on the ethers, buffeted by the winds, lost in some vortex of Gods know what, crying to be called back to me, to come back Home? I miss them, need them as I know they need me, to be whole. I'm trying, I am, but I dont know how to contain them, how to hold them, protect them, hear them all.
But just maybe, perhaps, the words jangling around inside my head ARE the conversation this process is trying to have with me, to tell me that the lost pieces of my Self are finding their way back to me, back Home, bit by bit, little by little; and they all have something to say about it, but I cant decipher their feelings and thoughts. I cant understand what they are saying...... not....
Yet.
Soon. Maybe.
I hope.....
People get giddy this time of year when the sun comes out. Understandable when we've had nearly non-stop rain since November. Everyone was cheerful at work and I tried valiantly to meet cheerful with happy, and although I'm not unhappy, as such, I am trying to hold The Lurgy at bay. So far moderately successfully, downing massive amounts of vitamins, but I can feel it creeping in. Ugh. I DONT want to get sick!
I should be taking advantage of the longer days and today's sunshine to take the dogs to the ravine this evening, but after a long day at work, and feeling kind of crappy and dizzy, I hardly have the energy. I spent the last three days on the couch, except for running the dogs yesterday ( when they had a great run and had squillions of fun, snarfing around, bareling full till up hill and down dale, jumping over logs and swimming in the creek, digging great wholloping holes in the path for which I had to reprimand them, and generally carrying on like happy wolves in dogs clothing, which of course they are, at heart), so I expect they will forgive me. They are playing outside in the yard now. Enjoying the late afternoon sun.
I dont know if it is the bug I am fighting or the change in climate/daylight but I've been lethargic lately. Physically and emotionally. And I cannot say either that I've been depressed, but the 'internal dialogue' which we all have in our heads has been particularly loud of late, and that wears me down. Sometimes the noise is such a cacophany that I become overwhelmed. Hearing voices? Maybe I'm crazy.....
I rationalise this by telling myself that I have many aspects to my Self, and right now they are all trying to be heard all at once, so I cant hear a damned thing, let alone hear myself think. Sometimes I shout at them, "Who are you?! What do you want from me?! What do you want me to do?!" Sometimes I talk to them softly, and say, "Just give me some space, please, so I can get this and that done, and then you can have the last word".
I've often wondered what it would be like to have multiple personalities. I think we all have a touch of this. Some of us are more border-line than others. It would make my life so much easier if I could identify the conversations, the running commentary and be able to label them, put them in a safe box and hear them out, one by one. Name them. Understand the bits of myself that need to be heard, that need to be understood or that need to come out of the shadows into the light. It would help to be able to confidently say: This opinion comes from the 'observer', this one comes from the 'judgmental bitch' that one comes from the one who worries all the time; this one is a frightened person, young, and she's lonely, while that one over there, very quiet today, says that things always work out, there IS a Plan at work, and we are moving forward in our evolution as a species, and there is beauty and HOPE everywhere, if we look for it. Probably HER name is Pollyanna...
Mental health is so fragile. We can be on top of the world one minute and slip off the edge in another, hardly knowing how it happened. I'm not falling off the edge, but feel rather like I'm sitting right on it, at the moment, with the sharp edge staring me in the face. And I dont know why. Is it because things are okay? Too okay? Is that it? Am I so used to drama, trauma, and struggle that coasting for a while, and the euphoria I feel, the well-being I experience with a daily rhythm which makes sense and works well doesnt give my brain the "I'm terrified' chemicals it is used to, so I somehow manufacture anxiety to feed that addiction?
Comfort, constancy and normalcy, the sense that all is unfolding gently as it should is a foreign experience to me. I fear complacency. Because usually, in my experience, just when you get settled, all hell breaks loose and the excrement hits the rotating blades. I mistrust happiness. How warped is that?! And yet I am reminded of what my step father used to say, bless him, he said, "Let the shit hit the fan... it makes good fertilizer". yeah, thanks dad! :)
I have been having heart palpitations and shortness of breath. It isnt my heart, I'm pretty sure of that. Could be I've been smoking less (a lot less as I am not 100% well), and my body is going, "Hey, where's my fix?" and offering symptoms to indicate its temper tantrum. It feels like the onset of an anxiety attack, but never goes there. Which might help, even, since after the horrible and frightening experience of freaking out (and inevitably there is the point where one feels for absolute certain that one is going to die - you will know this is true if you've ever experinced it, and if you havent, let me tell you, it ain't fun) . Usually I crash afterward, and dont worry about anything anymore. I'm too tired to. The calm after the storm. I havent had a full blown anxiety attack in years, but this feeling, this sense of anxiousness, these days this can last hours at a time.
I'm still taking my happy pills, but havent taken any anti-anxiety pills in over a month, and nor have I taken sleeping pills in 6 months (which I only ever took as a last ditch desperate resort anyway, prefering Nyquill,or gravol, limiting myself to two or at most three, of any of the above, nights a month). Time for a chat with Dr. wonderful, perhaps?
I'm not sleeping well. I've mentioned that already, I know. I'm repeating myself, sorry. Sleep deprivation is something I dont deal with in a good way. It just makes me totally crazy. Quite literally. Emotional, wobbly and irritable. Paranoid even. So maybe I'm just run down and sleep deprived. Maybe the noise in my head is about some stuff, inner garbage, old baggage that is rearing its ugly head so it can be released. It has to come out somehowm, Goddammit. I know that right now I'm relatively stable ( reality being relative) so its an opportunity for the crap to come out. Maybe its an old anniversary I've forgotten.... I was sent to an Aunt in Newfoundland for temporary fostering probably close to this time of year when I was about 4 and 1/2 or 5, or maybe its a miscarriage. One of the three. I cant remember when they happened... Blocked them out... but last night I dreamt I had a miscarriage. I just know something's going on and I cant connect to it, give it a NAME, reason through it, or rationalise it away. It is happening and I just have to trust the process and ride the wave. There is something percolating, bubbles rising, and when they burst at the surface, I expect a word, or a picture/memory or a REASON to be born into the air, to be expressed into consciousness... something, tangible, on the lips of the mouth that whispers in my ear, "Something is going on...". But no....
Meanwhile. Spring is making herself known day by day and warming the earth. Softly softly. The baby little plants are beginning to stick their fragile tiny fronds gently out of the ground, so tentatively, and buds are forming on trees, unfurling just ever so slightly to make that inimitable Springtime green peach-fuzz haze... almost there, but not quite yet. My forsythia is blooming and the crocuses are up; daffodils are putting up their long, spiky leaves, but not ready to bloom. Like me maybe? The clematis didnt die after all but is putting out a huge cluster of shoots, as is the honeysuckle, prolific and mad with winding up the wire fence surrounding the veggie garden; although it seems the trumpet vine went the way of Vaudeville..... sadly. The deer didnt help with their brutal 'pruning' last summer.
The idea though, the dream of green, is at hand, and we all know by now that ideas make our reality. Our thoughts can and do shape our reality. We know this. That which we hold in our thoughts and dreams, is that which we manifest....
Are the trees thinking of Spring? Are my poppies thinking, "Right, days are longer so its time to send up those leaves"...? Are the wild roses, still asleep, dreaming of sunny days as the nutrients slowly are drawn through their roots, into their sap, bringing the message that its time to wake up and make flower buds? Do we all grow instinctively, like this? Maybe that is what sets us apart from plants and animals, ultimately.... the need to understand the process and to know why. The need to measure it, to mark it. To know, be aware of HOW to do it. To choose how to do it.
Frankly, I dont know how.
In shaping my own reality I know my attention to things, and my perspective is everything. I can chose what colour my lenses are. I can chose rose coloured glasses, or not. I can choose green or grey or black. I am noticing more and more that when I do that, when I look at things a certain way and set/choose my 'intent' my life opens up. 'Coincidental' events seem to bring opportunities to make me happy. 'Coincidence' seems to conspire with sweet Serendipity and I make connections, with people, with events, with my conversation with Life. 'When I change the way I look at things, the things I look at change....' I know all these things in my head and am working with them consciously, and with a lot of attention and effort. Why then do I feel like a bag is over my head and I am walking blind?
I went into the studio the other day, and left soon after, noticing the mess, and feeling resentful about it. Not all of it is my mess. Some of it belongs to the renovation and its materials being stored there. Not using the space for that reason is a pitiful excuse. Maybe that is what this flatline feeling is about. Guilt. Every day I don't do something in the studio, I feel guilty. (AHA! THAT'S the internal judge, jury and executioner, right there! That's good. I named that one.)
At the end of the day, I suppose, the best thing to do is accept that there is a process at work here, an internal process that has no words to offer me, and one that I cannot name. No explanation. I have to trust that the Process itself knows, like a tree waking up, what it is doing, and it is going about its business as it is meant to.
I feel strongly that I need to have a conversation with Life. A dialogue. A living, breathing give-and-take. I need to know why. And likewise, I need to have words so I can box up an experience and tell myself, "This is what this thing is" and make it safe for myself. Or at least understood. Contain it.
I am not getting the feedback I need here, and I'm feeling lost and afraid. I have no words to rationalise this. Maybe that's why my head is so full of them, clamouring, tumbling over each other, like a river of words, tumbling over stones, rushing over me. Its not that I am not listening, is it? Are all of the scattered bits of me, floating out on the ethers, buffeted by the winds, lost in some vortex of Gods know what, crying to be called back to me, to come back Home? I miss them, need them as I know they need me, to be whole. I'm trying, I am, but I dont know how to contain them, how to hold them, protect them, hear them all.
But just maybe, perhaps, the words jangling around inside my head ARE the conversation this process is trying to have with me, to tell me that the lost pieces of my Self are finding their way back to me, back Home, bit by bit, little by little; and they all have something to say about it, but I cant decipher their feelings and thoughts. I cant understand what they are saying...... not....
Yet.
Soon. Maybe.
I hope.....
Monday, March 5, 2007
Flipping flea
Long time no Post.
I found a flea IN MY SOCK today. Yegads. Mild winters are not always all they are cracked up to be. Time to get flea drops again. Like ASAP. And you know where the goddam flea population is coming from? I'll tell you. From the rats.
Apparently the rat population (mild winters, what did I say? Definite down side...) has quadrupled in the last two years. Lovely.
Other than that, I've been working 6 days a week. Loving the faux finishing, but feeling tired.I'm treating us to a pot roast tonight, and the house, if not sparkling and shiny, is at least relatively devoid of chaos. A Very Good Thing, said Pooh.
Last week I had a day from hell during which I was insulted, annoyed, breast groped and dismissed. On 4 separate occasions.
Nut shell version. Some guy flipped the edge of my vest to, ostensibly, better view my name tag, but pressing against my breast was what he did. I dont know him. Told the manager, and (the dismissal) "Oh he's just like that, he's actually really nice, just tactile and huggy'. Right. Later she said if it happens again I should let her know and I said, with a smile, "NO, I dont think I'll bother, because if he tries that again I'll take his nice hand off at the wrist". Thank you. Thank you very much.
And then I was irked at the till by the general handy man for the place who proceeded to use my phone (to conduct his own sideline business), which doesnt allow me to serve the customers I am hired to serve. ARGH!
So feeling already like a piece of groped meat, and having been told, as I was told as a child I'm WRONG to think I was touched inappropriately, and had my space invaded by jerkola, a guy comes in whom I've painted for in the past, and says, "So, you're selling paint now? haha. You like selling paint do you? The paint seller...haha" Laughing at me and acting as though the mighty had fallen SO far and he wasnt going to let me forget it. Bastard coke-head.
I can laugh about it now, but it really upset me at the time. The other thing that really turns my stomach and isnt funny at all is this:
A woman at work is leaving the island (her good luck/ going away gathering was held this evening) to move across the continent to Michigan to live with her on-line lover. Okay folks, seriously! She has a son. She's never met the on-line guy except on net-camera, and she's taking her boy with her, without a working Visa ("I dont need one, we're planning a family right away, so I wont be working") and no health care insurance. Jesus God wept. She's just lost her mother to cancer, and now she's running into the arms of a man who was turned away at the Canadian border.... she's getting on a bus, her little boy in tow, on Wednesday. I dont especially like her, nor do I dislike her. But I would not want to see ANYONE make such a scary choice. Such a final and detrimental, potentially dangerous move.I have a bad feeling about this.
Meanwhile, the good news is that B and I are busy with working on the principles of abundance and positive thinking. Everything from Wayne Dyer to 'The Secret' (law of attraction) and 'what the bleep, down the rabbit hole'. Haven't progressed to Depak Chopra yet, but I was watching a programme on John of God in Brazil and B said it put in him a state of such positive head space and openness that the day seemed to just flow and everything fell into place.
Things are shifting. For the first time in my life I seem to have a partner who suddenly ( well more and more over the last year) is on the same page as I am. We are making changes on a fundamental emotional and spiritual level, and things are coming out of that which are all good. We are in a really good place with one another.
Gods, I love him! :)
Pot roast is in the oven. Smells heavenly. I'm about to chop some kindling and will make a nice cozy fire. Swinin' standards are playing on satellite, and it looks like a good evening in the making.
Hope everyone out there in the big world is well...
I found a flea IN MY SOCK today. Yegads. Mild winters are not always all they are cracked up to be. Time to get flea drops again. Like ASAP. And you know where the goddam flea population is coming from? I'll tell you. From the rats.
Apparently the rat population (mild winters, what did I say? Definite down side...) has quadrupled in the last two years. Lovely.
Other than that, I've been working 6 days a week. Loving the faux finishing, but feeling tired.I'm treating us to a pot roast tonight, and the house, if not sparkling and shiny, is at least relatively devoid of chaos. A Very Good Thing, said Pooh.
Last week I had a day from hell during which I was insulted, annoyed, breast groped and dismissed. On 4 separate occasions.
Nut shell version. Some guy flipped the edge of my vest to, ostensibly, better view my name tag, but pressing against my breast was what he did. I dont know him. Told the manager, and (the dismissal) "Oh he's just like that, he's actually really nice, just tactile and huggy'. Right. Later she said if it happens again I should let her know and I said, with a smile, "NO, I dont think I'll bother, because if he tries that again I'll take his nice hand off at the wrist". Thank you. Thank you very much.
And then I was irked at the till by the general handy man for the place who proceeded to use my phone (to conduct his own sideline business), which doesnt allow me to serve the customers I am hired to serve. ARGH!
So feeling already like a piece of groped meat, and having been told, as I was told as a child I'm WRONG to think I was touched inappropriately, and had my space invaded by jerkola, a guy comes in whom I've painted for in the past, and says, "So, you're selling paint now? haha. You like selling paint do you? The paint seller...haha" Laughing at me and acting as though the mighty had fallen SO far and he wasnt going to let me forget it. Bastard coke-head.
I can laugh about it now, but it really upset me at the time. The other thing that really turns my stomach and isnt funny at all is this:
A woman at work is leaving the island (her good luck/ going away gathering was held this evening) to move across the continent to Michigan to live with her on-line lover. Okay folks, seriously! She has a son. She's never met the on-line guy except on net-camera, and she's taking her boy with her, without a working Visa ("I dont need one, we're planning a family right away, so I wont be working") and no health care insurance. Jesus God wept. She's just lost her mother to cancer, and now she's running into the arms of a man who was turned away at the Canadian border.... she's getting on a bus, her little boy in tow, on Wednesday. I dont especially like her, nor do I dislike her. But I would not want to see ANYONE make such a scary choice. Such a final and detrimental, potentially dangerous move.I have a bad feeling about this.
Meanwhile, the good news is that B and I are busy with working on the principles of abundance and positive thinking. Everything from Wayne Dyer to 'The Secret' (law of attraction) and 'what the bleep, down the rabbit hole'. Haven't progressed to Depak Chopra yet, but I was watching a programme on John of God in Brazil and B said it put in him a state of such positive head space and openness that the day seemed to just flow and everything fell into place.
Things are shifting. For the first time in my life I seem to have a partner who suddenly ( well more and more over the last year) is on the same page as I am. We are making changes on a fundamental emotional and spiritual level, and things are coming out of that which are all good. We are in a really good place with one another.
Gods, I love him! :)
Pot roast is in the oven. Smells heavenly. I'm about to chop some kindling and will make a nice cozy fire. Swinin' standards are playing on satellite, and it looks like a good evening in the making.
Hope everyone out there in the big world is well...
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Does it Get Better than This?!
I am doing one of those jobs right now that dont come along every day. Faux finishing is one of my great loves. I'm good at it. I've been doing it for about 15 years now. It is labour intensive, most of the time, and pays well. Coming from a client who, according to the site manager, is never completely happy with anything, I nearly jumped with euphoria when I heard the words today, "It's amazing. Better than I had envisioned. Its perfect! I love it!" High praise indeed. For doing something I absolutely love. I'm all charged up and full of creative inspiration. Its like a window opened inside me and let the sun in. Gods, I wish I could do this every day of my life!
I went to the Doctor's today to renew my 'script, and he was frankly amazed that I am working 6 days a week at the moment, and loving both jobs.... He asked me, having known that I was struggling at my other job, and I told him quite candidly that I cahnged my mind. I change 'the way I looked at things, and the things I looked at changed..." I said that I used to be an expert in my field. I used to teach. I used to run a business, and I had felt like a failure, as a 'lowly till jockey'.... but then I changed my attitude. It isnt about the money, obviously, because I can barely afford to work at the General Store, the pay is so shite. It isnt about the work either. No. Its about the people. Its about contributing and being valued. Its about making people happy. Making them smile. That's my job. The staff, the customers, the feeling I have of being connected to the community now is what makes it great. And that's why I love it.
He said that he was amazed. That 3 months ago my life was such a different picture and he was really impressed with my incredibly rational and determined choice to see things in a way that was healthy to me.
I got some high praise today from two people I respect a lot, and that feels really good. :)
Meanwhile, its one of those gentle evenings with a mild rain. The feel of it makes me think it heralds Spring, but maybe its a tease. But I dont know. Mother Nature knows best...The buds on my Forsythia are sprouting and they seem to think Spring is on her way. I need to stop and notice these things. I need to stop and be aware that my poppies are sending out leaves, and that the soil smells fecund and fertile. I must be conscious of the world turning, shifting and making ready for another season. This year is going to be very different. Why? Because I am. That's why.
I was in a state of somnolent, dragging despondance. But I pushed through it somehow (damn good happy pills I tell you). I've been going full tilt.
An this evening I'm making a soup from the stock I made on Sunday (my only day off these days, which involved the usual domestic bliss of laundry - motherloads of it - and cleaning, shopping, running the dogs, and then flopping in exhaustuion on the couch where I stayed for hours until I had regained enough strength to eat dinner which B made, and crawl to bed). This soup, my darlings, she will be delicious! An Italian recipe I got out of Boulevard Magazine. A bean and veggie soup which I will spice up with Churizo sausage, as I dont have the jalapenos the recipe calls for. Glad I made the stock for the puppies too, with lamb and beef bones, to make their 'haggis'.
Tomorrow I am back at work at the General Store, and although I wish I could do the artsy thing every day, I sense that it will grow, and I'll get more of that work in time. I am holding that 'Intent'. Its coming....All in good time....
Today was a very good day.
And now I'm off to have a nice bath, and a glass of wine. I'll read a best seller pulp novel - one of those semi-esoterical, historical thrillers in the style of the Davinci Code...which has sparked a whole new Genre, it seems. (But let me tell you that Catherine Neville had that genre craked in the eighties, okay? She did it first and better if you ask me. Read her. She's great!) I will stop reading and breathe deeply, now and then, and think, 'what this smells like is... Home...' The soup will bubble slowly and gently, scents filling the house, as it comes, in its own time, as all things come in their own time, to the ready. And then we'll eat. And it will be utterly Yum!
I went to the Doctor's today to renew my 'script, and he was frankly amazed that I am working 6 days a week at the moment, and loving both jobs.... He asked me, having known that I was struggling at my other job, and I told him quite candidly that I cahnged my mind. I change 'the way I looked at things, and the things I looked at changed..." I said that I used to be an expert in my field. I used to teach. I used to run a business, and I had felt like a failure, as a 'lowly till jockey'.... but then I changed my attitude. It isnt about the money, obviously, because I can barely afford to work at the General Store, the pay is so shite. It isnt about the work either. No. Its about the people. Its about contributing and being valued. Its about making people happy. Making them smile. That's my job. The staff, the customers, the feeling I have of being connected to the community now is what makes it great. And that's why I love it.
He said that he was amazed. That 3 months ago my life was such a different picture and he was really impressed with my incredibly rational and determined choice to see things in a way that was healthy to me.
I got some high praise today from two people I respect a lot, and that feels really good. :)
Meanwhile, its one of those gentle evenings with a mild rain. The feel of it makes me think it heralds Spring, but maybe its a tease. But I dont know. Mother Nature knows best...The buds on my Forsythia are sprouting and they seem to think Spring is on her way. I need to stop and notice these things. I need to stop and be aware that my poppies are sending out leaves, and that the soil smells fecund and fertile. I must be conscious of the world turning, shifting and making ready for another season. This year is going to be very different. Why? Because I am. That's why.
I was in a state of somnolent, dragging despondance. But I pushed through it somehow (damn good happy pills I tell you). I've been going full tilt.
An this evening I'm making a soup from the stock I made on Sunday (my only day off these days, which involved the usual domestic bliss of laundry - motherloads of it - and cleaning, shopping, running the dogs, and then flopping in exhaustuion on the couch where I stayed for hours until I had regained enough strength to eat dinner which B made, and crawl to bed). This soup, my darlings, she will be delicious! An Italian recipe I got out of Boulevard Magazine. A bean and veggie soup which I will spice up with Churizo sausage, as I dont have the jalapenos the recipe calls for. Glad I made the stock for the puppies too, with lamb and beef bones, to make their 'haggis'.
Tomorrow I am back at work at the General Store, and although I wish I could do the artsy thing every day, I sense that it will grow, and I'll get more of that work in time. I am holding that 'Intent'. Its coming....All in good time....
Today was a very good day.
And now I'm off to have a nice bath, and a glass of wine. I'll read a best seller pulp novel - one of those semi-esoterical, historical thrillers in the style of the Davinci Code...which has sparked a whole new Genre, it seems. (But let me tell you that Catherine Neville had that genre craked in the eighties, okay? She did it first and better if you ask me. Read her. She's great!) I will stop reading and breathe deeply, now and then, and think, 'what this smells like is... Home...' The soup will bubble slowly and gently, scents filling the house, as it comes, in its own time, as all things come in their own time, to the ready. And then we'll eat. And it will be utterly Yum!
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Ennuie..... But Ultimately, its all Good...
The earthquake came and went, apparently, with hardly a blip on the radar screen. A 2point something. I didn't notice and I probably slept though it. Only one earthquake I've ever felt in my life, and that was in Ontario, which is rather rare, but it was very interesting at the time. Small. Not scary.
Work was boring. I didn't even bother trying to spice things up with flashing the security cameras, wearing weird accessories or making silly displays. I didn't sing to the satellite radio (oldies) as I often do when inspired to make things more cheerful. I didn't get upset about it either...though I did wonder if the day would ever bloody end; today was a blanc mange.I stalked the ailes and even the manager apologised to me for things being so slow. "You mustbe so bored...it isnt always like this." "I know, Its okay" . Tomorrow we have a HUGE shipment arriving, and I anticipate it with baited breathe, being run ragged and off my feet with stuff to do looks like a good thing compared to the dreaded pacing of ailes with a duster in my hands. Give me strength.
Huh.
It was so boring I couldn't bring myself to be the quirky and weird freak that I am...I was boring myself. And tired. Exhausted. I was too tired and sore. Painting hurts my body. The last two days did me in, working for my brother on a high-end home/estate. These people have more money than God, and actually pretty good taste. I love the faux finishing, don't get me wrong, and that part was great, but mostly, for the time being, I did regular house painting (trim work, Canukifornia, I'm with you and know you feel my pain). Next week will be the fun part after my brother's crew have prepped everything for me and done the hard part....but man, am I sore. Carpal tunnel. Shoulder impingement injury saying, "Oh SHIT! Not THIS again...!" But there may be a stained glass window commission in this for me so I pretend to be a trouper and work doggedly on. So far trhe owner seems pleased with where I am going with the painting.
Its good money and I cant turn that down. My benefits package came today and next week I should get my card which means full dental, for me and 90% for B, full prescriptions, naturopathic - partially covered, and physio therapy partially covered...good stuff. (In my most wistful moments I wonder if I can push the envelope and get some coverage on fertility treatments but that will take time to investigate, and I am pretty much out out of time here... or very nearly). I'll make enough money to cover the physio, and maybe get my arms and hands in better shape. Meanwhile, with the damp and cold, arthritis is really adding insult to injury.
Whine, Whinge, Whine. Whatever. Its my prerogative.
Xena's foot is healing nicely and she is not longer limping or upset. That's a good thing. We count our blessings. Every day. Ultimately, reality being relative, it all okay. Hope its all okay with all you out there...
Meanwhile, I'm going to have a bath, with bubbles, and a glass of wine, and read a silly fluff book whilst B makes a dinner of rack of lamb, salad and broccoli. B has put on some country music which plays happily in the background. He's a convert now, after balking with large attitude in the early days, guy-like. I know that music is innane sometimes, but it is cheerful, frankly, and having songs mostly about love and life, and sex, and family filling our house rather than angst and oh woe is me, is a relief. I'm not so proud, at my age, to be reluctant to say I'm mellowing....
B and I, after almost 4 years together, have settled, finally, into a gentle rhythm of loving existance and gentle appreciation. We applaud one another our truimphs and support one another through our stresses. We dont pick at one another but rather always focus on the positive, and respect the gains we make, individually and as a couple. Conflict comes rarely and when it builds up, resentment over undiscussed or unresolved stuff,it can be explosive, but is soon resolved with the greatest desire being a need to be kind, and a way to make the other understand, and feel better...We've become best friends, after having bonded through that incredible initial attraction and passion that so often goes no where, or to a bad place. We've always said we are lucky to have found one another, and its true. I thank my lucky stars every single day. Counting blessings makes me able to deal with the every day shite.
Life is just fine, thank you. Thank you very much. :)
Work was boring. I didn't even bother trying to spice things up with flashing the security cameras, wearing weird accessories or making silly displays. I didn't sing to the satellite radio (oldies) as I often do when inspired to make things more cheerful. I didn't get upset about it either...though I did wonder if the day would ever bloody end; today was a blanc mange.I stalked the ailes and even the manager apologised to me for things being so slow. "You mustbe so bored...it isnt always like this." "I know, Its okay" . Tomorrow we have a HUGE shipment arriving, and I anticipate it with baited breathe, being run ragged and off my feet with stuff to do looks like a good thing compared to the dreaded pacing of ailes with a duster in my hands. Give me strength.
Huh.
It was so boring I couldn't bring myself to be the quirky and weird freak that I am...I was boring myself. And tired. Exhausted. I was too tired and sore. Painting hurts my body. The last two days did me in, working for my brother on a high-end home/estate. These people have more money than God, and actually pretty good taste. I love the faux finishing, don't get me wrong, and that part was great, but mostly, for the time being, I did regular house painting (trim work, Canukifornia, I'm with you and know you feel my pain). Next week will be the fun part after my brother's crew have prepped everything for me and done the hard part....but man, am I sore. Carpal tunnel. Shoulder impingement injury saying, "Oh SHIT! Not THIS again...!" But there may be a stained glass window commission in this for me so I pretend to be a trouper and work doggedly on. So far trhe owner seems pleased with where I am going with the painting.
Its good money and I cant turn that down. My benefits package came today and next week I should get my card which means full dental, for me and 90% for B, full prescriptions, naturopathic - partially covered, and physio therapy partially covered...good stuff. (In my most wistful moments I wonder if I can push the envelope and get some coverage on fertility treatments but that will take time to investigate, and I am pretty much out out of time here... or very nearly). I'll make enough money to cover the physio, and maybe get my arms and hands in better shape. Meanwhile, with the damp and cold, arthritis is really adding insult to injury.
Whine, Whinge, Whine. Whatever. Its my prerogative.
Xena's foot is healing nicely and she is not longer limping or upset. That's a good thing. We count our blessings. Every day. Ultimately, reality being relative, it all okay. Hope its all okay with all you out there...
Meanwhile, I'm going to have a bath, with bubbles, and a glass of wine, and read a silly fluff book whilst B makes a dinner of rack of lamb, salad and broccoli. B has put on some country music which plays happily in the background. He's a convert now, after balking with large attitude in the early days, guy-like. I know that music is innane sometimes, but it is cheerful, frankly, and having songs mostly about love and life, and sex, and family filling our house rather than angst and oh woe is me, is a relief. I'm not so proud, at my age, to be reluctant to say I'm mellowing....
B and I, after almost 4 years together, have settled, finally, into a gentle rhythm of loving existance and gentle appreciation. We applaud one another our truimphs and support one another through our stresses. We dont pick at one another but rather always focus on the positive, and respect the gains we make, individually and as a couple. Conflict comes rarely and when it builds up, resentment over undiscussed or unresolved stuff,it can be explosive, but is soon resolved with the greatest desire being a need to be kind, and a way to make the other understand, and feel better...We've become best friends, after having bonded through that incredible initial attraction and passion that so often goes no where, or to a bad place. We've always said we are lucky to have found one another, and its true. I thank my lucky stars every single day. Counting blessings makes me able to deal with the every day shite.
Life is just fine, thank you. Thank you very much. :)
Monday, February 5, 2007
The Fat on the Skinny....
Here's the deal.....Sorry to everyone for locking you out of my site. We have family who are travelling right now and I set up another blog specifically to post comments to them and keep in touch as they relate their adventures (I could do with a little bit of Mexico myself right now, who couldnt, but bless them, they deserve it and more power to them. So what if I'm green with envy).
Blogland being what it is combined with my lack of computer nerdness meant that I accidentally posted from THIS site, which as you all know is quite personal. I panicked. I changed the settings and now I've come to the conclusion that after asking them to delete the link to H-bird, either they will respect that and do so or they wont, and I refuse to censure myself. This is my space and you are my friends, and welcome. And if they read this, so be it.
I've begun making a dinner which I hope will make it to the all-star team. Breasts of duck, flash-braised in the pan to crisp the skin, then added red wine and orange juice, churizo, tomato slices and garlic; now baking in the oven. Accompanying the duck will be asparagus, which was on sale, and slices of baked squash drizzled with walnut oil, walnuts and a bit of maple syrup, with a plain salad on the side.
I have a fire going in the wood stove, swing/jazz classics on in the background (sing it Ella!!!), which I love. I feel like I am in a black and white movie from the fourties.... Silly sentimental music with lots of saxophone. Its okay, expected even, to smoke and have a cocktail or two before dinner, changing out of painters garb and into a long slinky gown, cut on the bias, which will not show the spare tires I have round my middle. Not in THIS movie! I wait for my man to arrive, and the stage is set. (Yegads!) Anyway, to set the scene, you should know that its foggy outside. Very mild and everything is shrouded with that grey diaphenous membrane, shifting here and there. Now you see it now you dont. A very romantic site. A lantern is lit and I feel safe to light it now that the earthquake scare is officially over. Despite not having heard the fat lady sing, I am doing ostrich head in the sand right now and will not think of natural disasters. There are enough disasters going on as it is. I am in a movie of my own making, and it looks cool, baby, real cool. We'll play cards later. Dance the cha-cha...(oh, no, that was the 60's wanst it? )We'll talk about the fact that in the US the State of the Union address was retracted by the White House...is that like saying the President is a big fat Liar?
Huh.
I painted for my brother today, only a 1/2 day and it was good. I feel sore but sense that that is more about being out of shape, and less about being arthritic and having inflamed joints.
B is coming home soon after doing his thing networking and touching base with his guys at the pub. He doesnt know I'm making this dinner. Its a surprise and I hope it turns out. Its a thing I kind of made up as I was ambling through the ailes of the grocery store this afternoon...wish me luck.
It was a good day, y'all. I'm really sorry about the panic privacy thing. I miss your comments and hope to see all of you back tomorrow! I espcially miss Lisa. Hope you're okay Cookie....
And that's me, chewing the fat and giving you the skinny. Ninight, and sleep well.
Blogland being what it is combined with my lack of computer nerdness meant that I accidentally posted from THIS site, which as you all know is quite personal. I panicked. I changed the settings and now I've come to the conclusion that after asking them to delete the link to H-bird, either they will respect that and do so or they wont, and I refuse to censure myself. This is my space and you are my friends, and welcome. And if they read this, so be it.
I've begun making a dinner which I hope will make it to the all-star team. Breasts of duck, flash-braised in the pan to crisp the skin, then added red wine and orange juice, churizo, tomato slices and garlic; now baking in the oven. Accompanying the duck will be asparagus, which was on sale, and slices of baked squash drizzled with walnut oil, walnuts and a bit of maple syrup, with a plain salad on the side.
I have a fire going in the wood stove, swing/jazz classics on in the background (sing it Ella!!!), which I love. I feel like I am in a black and white movie from the fourties.... Silly sentimental music with lots of saxophone. Its okay, expected even, to smoke and have a cocktail or two before dinner, changing out of painters garb and into a long slinky gown, cut on the bias, which will not show the spare tires I have round my middle. Not in THIS movie! I wait for my man to arrive, and the stage is set. (Yegads!) Anyway, to set the scene, you should know that its foggy outside. Very mild and everything is shrouded with that grey diaphenous membrane, shifting here and there. Now you see it now you dont. A very romantic site. A lantern is lit and I feel safe to light it now that the earthquake scare is officially over. Despite not having heard the fat lady sing, I am doing ostrich head in the sand right now and will not think of natural disasters. There are enough disasters going on as it is. I am in a movie of my own making, and it looks cool, baby, real cool. We'll play cards later. Dance the cha-cha...(oh, no, that was the 60's wanst it? )We'll talk about the fact that in the US the State of the Union address was retracted by the White House...is that like saying the President is a big fat Liar?
Huh.
I painted for my brother today, only a 1/2 day and it was good. I feel sore but sense that that is more about being out of shape, and less about being arthritic and having inflamed joints.
B is coming home soon after doing his thing networking and touching base with his guys at the pub. He doesnt know I'm making this dinner. Its a surprise and I hope it turns out. Its a thing I kind of made up as I was ambling through the ailes of the grocery store this afternoon...wish me luck.
It was a good day, y'all. I'm really sorry about the panic privacy thing. I miss your comments and hope to see all of you back tomorrow! I espcially miss Lisa. Hope you're okay Cookie....
And that's me, chewing the fat and giving you the skinny. Ninight, and sleep well.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Being Broke Sucks...
Anyone who is freelance knows what I'm saying. Yes I have a part time job, but the pay is crappy, and until Spring, when I'll hopefully be branching out into gardening, my income is fixed and small. B's fluctuates at this time of year, its low season, so we are scrounging.
Its a small detail in the scheme of things but it makes me think of power; personal power and the power that money represents. Security. I notice how we are different with one another when the ebb and flow of that freelance life, the feast and famine thing, is in a good place. We joke around more, which is important since we are not the most jolly types at the best of times. When we are in famine mode, everything goes into a slump. Our outlook, our energy (I spent the last three days, my days off, pretty much doing nothing, for no reason at all. I wasn't depressed as such, but was unmotivated, drained), our sex life, and our ability to GENERATE goes into hibernation. It isn't surprising at this time of year and I suspect we both have a degree of that lack of sunlight syndrome called SAD . Seasonal Affected Disorder. IS it a disorder? Or is it 'normal'? Are we just following the natural rhythm of things, close to the cycles of nature?
Anyway, when we are flush, B is grandiose. I am manic. We do stuff. Not as much as I used to. Not the way I used to with turning my hand at every old and ancient craft I could learn about and get my hands on from quilting, rug hooking to decorating, faux-finish painting and making things, all the time. Whether furniture or stained glass....
I have never been so uncreative for so long a stretch in all my life and I have likewise never been so broke, and so I believe there must be a direct link between being able to access the juice of life within me, to feelings of security being overwhelmed by anxiety, worry and exhaustion.
The happy pills help but my doctor tells me it took me a lifetime to get to where I am and it will take some time to reverse the trend. Turning a ship in the middle of the ocean takes a long time. I know this. I am hopeful and optimistic, however.
I still have no relationship with my studio other than to feel guilt, and make excuses. I am often ashamed of this, looking at all the blessings I have and knowing there are so many people in this world who have less, and are struggling in life..... Not that I'm not struggling but I do have my health.
Still, I am reassuring myself that it will come. It will come with Spring, when that quickening comes, which affects all things. That giddy feeling of being high just because the sun is shining. That feeling that one has, when the buds on trees are ripe and ready to burst into leaf, that life is happening and blood begins to flow more quickly. That a secret word has been whispered into the ears of all living things and they hear it even if they don't know what it says; it is a language we all know. The need to be vital, and grab hold of life. The need to be NOW. The need to create, and the inspiration that motivates that will come. I trust that. I'm just still recovering from the last few years....
I've been thinking about my ex a lot the last few weeks. I don't know why this happens still. In July it will be 5 years since I left. April marks 4 years since I told him I don't want him to visit, after begging him for MONTHS to please come, and receiving repeated refusals, I told him it was over. He told me I had just written his death sentence. Can you believe that?!? And then I met B a month later and the rest is history.
Leaving my ex was traumatic. I still miss him desperately in some ways, because he was a such part of me, my other 1/2. In thinking about him today I realized that he wasn't good for me. I knew this, of course, all those years ago, or I wouldn't have left but my leaving was instinctive. I ran away, out of fear. I really got it today. 4 and 1/2 years later. I am absorbing the pain I couldn't cope with and the reality of my loss and the fact that is it okay. I am so much better off now. I am letting go of the grief. But I also realized, in our co-dependence, that not trying to make a baby was what broke my heart and his not caring about that was a betrayal I can finally admit to, and one I can never forgive. I spent my inheritance, my 'baby fund' , on wedding rings for us, custom made to my design, on a glorious honeymoon to Europe for 2 months, on a wedding (we eloped in Scotland), on supporting us for the next two years supplementing our scant income..... I gave him everything and when I left, I was left destitute, emotionally and materially bankrupt. They say it takes as long as the relationship lasted to get over it...yegads, ten years?! Give me strength. He took everything I had. But most crucially, he stole my dreams for a family.
I've built myself up a lot since then. I've found, by the Goddess's grace, a new and very true love, whom I adore. B. I have a home , a family of four footed beasties, a job, such as it is, and a life. I'm getting connected to the community and people through my work. I'm still rebuilding myself. I'm still in recovery. And I know that the art will come. The creative essence that I need to express, the need to make things, it will come again. When life returns to the land, and Green covers the hills. When the sun shines and the days are stretched out, long and endless as the horizon of the sea that surrounds us. When we have sun-showers and rainbows cradle the sky.....It will come. I trust that.
Meanwhile, I need to hibernate for a while longer.....
Its a small detail in the scheme of things but it makes me think of power; personal power and the power that money represents. Security. I notice how we are different with one another when the ebb and flow of that freelance life, the feast and famine thing, is in a good place. We joke around more, which is important since we are not the most jolly types at the best of times. When we are in famine mode, everything goes into a slump. Our outlook, our energy (I spent the last three days, my days off, pretty much doing nothing, for no reason at all. I wasn't depressed as such, but was unmotivated, drained), our sex life, and our ability to GENERATE goes into hibernation. It isn't surprising at this time of year and I suspect we both have a degree of that lack of sunlight syndrome called SAD . Seasonal Affected Disorder. IS it a disorder? Or is it 'normal'? Are we just following the natural rhythm of things, close to the cycles of nature?
Anyway, when we are flush, B is grandiose. I am manic. We do stuff. Not as much as I used to. Not the way I used to with turning my hand at every old and ancient craft I could learn about and get my hands on from quilting, rug hooking to decorating, faux-finish painting and making things, all the time. Whether furniture or stained glass....
I have never been so uncreative for so long a stretch in all my life and I have likewise never been so broke, and so I believe there must be a direct link between being able to access the juice of life within me, to feelings of security being overwhelmed by anxiety, worry and exhaustion.
The happy pills help but my doctor tells me it took me a lifetime to get to where I am and it will take some time to reverse the trend. Turning a ship in the middle of the ocean takes a long time. I know this. I am hopeful and optimistic, however.
I still have no relationship with my studio other than to feel guilt, and make excuses. I am often ashamed of this, looking at all the blessings I have and knowing there are so many people in this world who have less, and are struggling in life..... Not that I'm not struggling but I do have my health.
Still, I am reassuring myself that it will come. It will come with Spring, when that quickening comes, which affects all things. That giddy feeling of being high just because the sun is shining. That feeling that one has, when the buds on trees are ripe and ready to burst into leaf, that life is happening and blood begins to flow more quickly. That a secret word has been whispered into the ears of all living things and they hear it even if they don't know what it says; it is a language we all know. The need to be vital, and grab hold of life. The need to be NOW. The need to create, and the inspiration that motivates that will come. I trust that. I'm just still recovering from the last few years....
I've been thinking about my ex a lot the last few weeks. I don't know why this happens still. In July it will be 5 years since I left. April marks 4 years since I told him I don't want him to visit, after begging him for MONTHS to please come, and receiving repeated refusals, I told him it was over. He told me I had just written his death sentence. Can you believe that?!? And then I met B a month later and the rest is history.
Leaving my ex was traumatic. I still miss him desperately in some ways, because he was a such part of me, my other 1/2. In thinking about him today I realized that he wasn't good for me. I knew this, of course, all those years ago, or I wouldn't have left but my leaving was instinctive. I ran away, out of fear. I really got it today. 4 and 1/2 years later. I am absorbing the pain I couldn't cope with and the reality of my loss and the fact that is it okay. I am so much better off now. I am letting go of the grief. But I also realized, in our co-dependence, that not trying to make a baby was what broke my heart and his not caring about that was a betrayal I can finally admit to, and one I can never forgive. I spent my inheritance, my 'baby fund' , on wedding rings for us, custom made to my design, on a glorious honeymoon to Europe for 2 months, on a wedding (we eloped in Scotland), on supporting us for the next two years supplementing our scant income..... I gave him everything and when I left, I was left destitute, emotionally and materially bankrupt. They say it takes as long as the relationship lasted to get over it...yegads, ten years?! Give me strength. He took everything I had. But most crucially, he stole my dreams for a family.
I've built myself up a lot since then. I've found, by the Goddess's grace, a new and very true love, whom I adore. B. I have a home , a family of four footed beasties, a job, such as it is, and a life. I'm getting connected to the community and people through my work. I'm still rebuilding myself. I'm still in recovery. And I know that the art will come. The creative essence that I need to express, the need to make things, it will come again. When life returns to the land, and Green covers the hills. When the sun shines and the days are stretched out, long and endless as the horizon of the sea that surrounds us. When we have sun-showers and rainbows cradle the sky.....It will come. I trust that.
Meanwhile, I need to hibernate for a while longer.....
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Weather or Not....
Have lit a fire in the wood stove, which is burning nicely now, casting a good heat, and am comfortably settled in, at least for a while, to write a long overdue post. Glass of well deserved wine at hand.
We've been hit by a series of freakish storms over the past few weeks, starting with snow, which I told you about, and then rain, wind, and more rain and wind. Nearly 200,000 homes out of power at one point, some of them for days, some of them still, a week later. Horrible for them. We ourselves have been very lucky.
I had oil candles burning a lot, just in case the power went, so as not to have to grope in the dark for light. It did go out, too, but just for a minute at a time, in quick succession- one, two, three, right after a large flash of light in the dark and furious night sky, and then the power came back on. Thank heaven for small mercies. We are so dependant on modern conveniences...
Sitting on the couch, looking out the large windows, I watched the fir and balsam trees being lashed by hurricane-force winds, and I was afraid. Rain pounded slantwise on the house, almost horizontal, hammering the windows, despite two foot soffits (eaves). The tin roof made a noise like a train. I was afraid, watching those trees bend to impossible angles, back and forth, back and forth, branches flying off in all directions and setting off the motion detecting lights on the studio. I was so worried that one of them, the top of a tree, probably, would break off and come hurtling in through the window where I sat, making a direct line, like a compass to north, to impale my head. Visions of a bad disaster movie. Drama queen, I know.... I've never actually been scared of a wind storm before, but I tell you, the elements meant business. It was terrible. Aside from the ruined gutters (from snow) we've sustained little damage, I'm glad to report. We were so lucky.
Meanwhile, I am feeling more confident at work, but still have the looming spectre of potential unemployment hovering at the periphery. Hours have been cut due to the overall numbers coming in, and there is nothing I can do about that. I'm beginning to see things more philosophically now, and trying to regain my sense of humour. Had a compliment about my work the other day, which was nice (and almost brought me to tears, it was so unexpectedly kind), from one of the 'top' people, and I haven't had a lot of those.
The Christmas party went well, last weekend. I was a bit worried that chins would be wagging, and that there would be a flurry of gossip because we ended up sitting at the owner's table. Kind of an honour, like sitting at the captain's table, you know? And only the important office people were sitting there. B and I arrived a little late, fashionably, of course, and were hunting around for vacant seats, and were simply invited by the owner to join them. Gobsmacked. But actually I shouldn't have been. They are seriously nice people and utterly without pretension. It was a nice evening, but I was so tired from a truly hellish day, and we left sort of early. Just after dinner the speeches, and 'secret santa' gift exchanges.... and before the dancing and the very ribald revelry started. I heard rumours of some of the behaviour and goings on and frankly was glad I was not there to see it. I don't think I should mention it in this blog! So far no one has said a word about our exalted seating arrangements. Which is good. The drama of other people's behaviour superseded any gossip we might have have generated. Thank all Gods.
I was always up for a laugh, in the old days. I was always joking, and saw the funny side of things. A healthy sense of the ridiculous, I used to say. Before the truth of infertility, before the memories of childhood trauma returned, before my marriage died.... I used to be funny.
I'm starting to regain my funny bone, I think.
A case in point occurred most humorously last week when I accidentally mooned the entire store for 1/2 the day. I kid you not. I realised at lunch time that my pants zipper - at the back- had split, and every time I leaned over to get a bag to deposit a customer's items into, I must have been exposing my arse. Mind you, I was wearing dark leggings as long johns underneath my black trousers (I'm near one of the doors and the winter gusting winds tend to apply a frigid draft up my aft, so added protection in the undergarment department is a must...) Perhaps no one noticed? Having between 300 and 500 people come through my till a day, I wonder what are the odds.... ? Huh. No wonder everyone was so friendly! :)
I just had to laugh. I think that means I am on the mend.....
Other than that, am settling in to the rhythm of work more and more, still not in the studio on days off, but am feeling that that will come...soon. Things with B are good. We're broke, but what else is new?
B is over at a friend's right now, doing his guy bonding thing, and I have the place to myself for the night. The cats and dogs want feeding, which I'll tend to, and then I'll sit down on the couch with a Diana Gabaldon book, to reread. (Oooh, that Jamie! I want to be Claire when I grow up!) The night is calm, with hardly a drop of rain, but everything smells sharply damp and fresh in that coldly winter wet way, with mare's tails wisping across the night sky. Star light seeping through the clouds, very gently, in places here and there. There is no storm tonight. I'll light a lantern anyway, and some candles.
I like the feeling of being in that light.
Its been a good day. Moreover, I've had the most gorgeous, lengthy and rambling talk with my best friend, who lives in England. Food for the Soul. Absolute heart nourishment.
Later:
Oh damn.
Shit. Piss. Fuck.
Willy's gone missing. Nearly every Bloody time B stays over at Peter's for a guy's night, playing cards and drinking beer, which isnt that often anymore, frankly, William goes off on walkabout. How does he know that B's not coming home tonight? HOW does he know?
Shit. Fuck. Piss; Goddamn sonofabitch.
I guess that fence I thought I repaired so well isnt actually repaired very well at all. It wouldnt matter so much if Willie werent an epileptic....
Bloody, bloody, bloody hell. Now I'm having hell-scenario visions of Willie having gotten out onto the road and having a seisure just as a large truck comes barrelling down the hill....
Shit.
Later:
The prodigal son returns. But not before first Xena and I, and then a second attempt, Zeus and I went on search and rescue. He got out of the pen, of course, little monster, with no expressions of remorse, full of himself, and the delight of freedom. Wolf at heart....and he was fine. We encountered Pushkin during our travels who came home, following us at a run with a loud 'Prrriiirrrup!'. Dont ask. He's a cat with sound effects. He's beautiful and very very cool.
Everyone is finally contentedly ensconced, and under roof, and I will have pasta for dinner now. Everyone is safe. Phew. I can relax at last and read my book.
Jeeze. About time. Bloody hell, what a day.
I hope everyone out there is okay.....
We've been hit by a series of freakish storms over the past few weeks, starting with snow, which I told you about, and then rain, wind, and more rain and wind. Nearly 200,000 homes out of power at one point, some of them for days, some of them still, a week later. Horrible for them. We ourselves have been very lucky.
I had oil candles burning a lot, just in case the power went, so as not to have to grope in the dark for light. It did go out, too, but just for a minute at a time, in quick succession- one, two, three, right after a large flash of light in the dark and furious night sky, and then the power came back on. Thank heaven for small mercies. We are so dependant on modern conveniences...
Sitting on the couch, looking out the large windows, I watched the fir and balsam trees being lashed by hurricane-force winds, and I was afraid. Rain pounded slantwise on the house, almost horizontal, hammering the windows, despite two foot soffits (eaves). The tin roof made a noise like a train. I was afraid, watching those trees bend to impossible angles, back and forth, back and forth, branches flying off in all directions and setting off the motion detecting lights on the studio. I was so worried that one of them, the top of a tree, probably, would break off and come hurtling in through the window where I sat, making a direct line, like a compass to north, to impale my head. Visions of a bad disaster movie. Drama queen, I know.... I've never actually been scared of a wind storm before, but I tell you, the elements meant business. It was terrible. Aside from the ruined gutters (from snow) we've sustained little damage, I'm glad to report. We were so lucky.
Meanwhile, I am feeling more confident at work, but still have the looming spectre of potential unemployment hovering at the periphery. Hours have been cut due to the overall numbers coming in, and there is nothing I can do about that. I'm beginning to see things more philosophically now, and trying to regain my sense of humour. Had a compliment about my work the other day, which was nice (and almost brought me to tears, it was so unexpectedly kind), from one of the 'top' people, and I haven't had a lot of those.
The Christmas party went well, last weekend. I was a bit worried that chins would be wagging, and that there would be a flurry of gossip because we ended up sitting at the owner's table. Kind of an honour, like sitting at the captain's table, you know? And only the important office people were sitting there. B and I arrived a little late, fashionably, of course, and were hunting around for vacant seats, and were simply invited by the owner to join them. Gobsmacked. But actually I shouldn't have been. They are seriously nice people and utterly without pretension. It was a nice evening, but I was so tired from a truly hellish day, and we left sort of early. Just after dinner the speeches, and 'secret santa' gift exchanges.... and before the dancing and the very ribald revelry started. I heard rumours of some of the behaviour and goings on and frankly was glad I was not there to see it. I don't think I should mention it in this blog! So far no one has said a word about our exalted seating arrangements. Which is good. The drama of other people's behaviour superseded any gossip we might have have generated. Thank all Gods.
I was always up for a laugh, in the old days. I was always joking, and saw the funny side of things. A healthy sense of the ridiculous, I used to say. Before the truth of infertility, before the memories of childhood trauma returned, before my marriage died.... I used to be funny.
I'm starting to regain my funny bone, I think.
A case in point occurred most humorously last week when I accidentally mooned the entire store for 1/2 the day. I kid you not. I realised at lunch time that my pants zipper - at the back- had split, and every time I leaned over to get a bag to deposit a customer's items into, I must have been exposing my arse. Mind you, I was wearing dark leggings as long johns underneath my black trousers (I'm near one of the doors and the winter gusting winds tend to apply a frigid draft up my aft, so added protection in the undergarment department is a must...) Perhaps no one noticed? Having between 300 and 500 people come through my till a day, I wonder what are the odds.... ? Huh. No wonder everyone was so friendly! :)
I just had to laugh. I think that means I am on the mend.....
Other than that, am settling in to the rhythm of work more and more, still not in the studio on days off, but am feeling that that will come...soon. Things with B are good. We're broke, but what else is new?
B is over at a friend's right now, doing his guy bonding thing, and I have the place to myself for the night. The cats and dogs want feeding, which I'll tend to, and then I'll sit down on the couch with a Diana Gabaldon book, to reread. (Oooh, that Jamie! I want to be Claire when I grow up!) The night is calm, with hardly a drop of rain, but everything smells sharply damp and fresh in that coldly winter wet way, with mare's tails wisping across the night sky. Star light seeping through the clouds, very gently, in places here and there. There is no storm tonight. I'll light a lantern anyway, and some candles.
I like the feeling of being in that light.
Its been a good day. Moreover, I've had the most gorgeous, lengthy and rambling talk with my best friend, who lives in England. Food for the Soul. Absolute heart nourishment.
Later:
Oh damn.
Shit. Piss. Fuck.
Willy's gone missing. Nearly every Bloody time B stays over at Peter's for a guy's night, playing cards and drinking beer, which isnt that often anymore, frankly, William goes off on walkabout. How does he know that B's not coming home tonight? HOW does he know?
Shit. Fuck. Piss; Goddamn sonofabitch.
I guess that fence I thought I repaired so well isnt actually repaired very well at all. It wouldnt matter so much if Willie werent an epileptic....
Bloody, bloody, bloody hell. Now I'm having hell-scenario visions of Willie having gotten out onto the road and having a seisure just as a large truck comes barrelling down the hill....
Shit.
Later:
The prodigal son returns. But not before first Xena and I, and then a second attempt, Zeus and I went on search and rescue. He got out of the pen, of course, little monster, with no expressions of remorse, full of himself, and the delight of freedom. Wolf at heart....and he was fine. We encountered Pushkin during our travels who came home, following us at a run with a loud 'Prrriiirrrup!'. Dont ask. He's a cat with sound effects. He's beautiful and very very cool.
Everyone is finally contentedly ensconced, and under roof, and I will have pasta for dinner now. Everyone is safe. Phew. I can relax at last and read my book.
Jeeze. About time. Bloody hell, what a day.
I hope everyone out there is okay.....
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