And away we go…

It is family reunion time again! This year, we are on the West Coast, the coast of my birth. And I am having panic attacks!!!

I love my family more than anything else in the world. My mom started these every-three-year reunions back when my daughter was 3 and my son 9 months…our West Coast based family had slowly but surely dispersed throughout the country, going off to college and then jobs and then marriage. Now the babies of our first reunions are grown up and mostly gone and the reunions continue.

So, if I love my family so much, why am I having panic attacks? Well, a little bit of it is that I will miss my dog. Boo and I are pretty much constant companions…well, except when hub and Boo go out on the boat, fishing or just cruising. If he was small enough to fit under my seat, he would be coming with me. But he’s not and I’m just not willing to put him in the belly of the plane for a one week trip. So, I guess I am officially one of those people who love their pets almost as much as their kids.

Another bit of it is that family reunions are a lot of work. Not the cooking, cleaning, who’s sleeping where part of it…more the “how long can we all be together before old feelings poke their little heads in and things get tense so let’s all play nice” kind of work…since we only have this one little window of time to store up hugs and laughs and memories and love, who wants to spend any of it “feeling”…but there is no getting past the feeling…it is what it is.

And then there is that hideously, hatefully, silly vain me that doesn’t want anyone to see that I am older now, plumper, with wrinkled, age-spotted, droopy body parts that barely fit into a bathing suit any more…we will be surrounded by the active, athletic, enthusiastic, gorgeous YOUNGSTERS who used to be US!!!! At least those in my generation and above are pretty much in the same boat…

All that said, I wouldn’t trade a moment of time spent with my mom and other dad, sisters and cousins and nieces and nephews…so, off we go! See you on the flip side!

Sunday morning hodge podge…

I just noticed that I haven’t blogged since May 31, and here it is June 9! Oh, my…

When last we “spoke”, I felt compelled to share a wonderful day in photos. Since then, we have had lots of planting days, with a few days of mama nature taking care of my watering.  The veggies and annuals are all in…I have a final few perennials to pop into the ground today and then I will be done until it is time for the second sowing of things. Well, now that I think about it, that’s not quite true…I’m expecting a yard of garden soil tomorrow so I can fill my 2 x 8 raised bed and then plant our asparagus! Excited to get that in.

We have a digital picture frame in our bedroom that contains every photo I have of my favorite granddaughter (ummm…ONLY granddaughter)…shhhh, don’t tell anyone, but I spend a lot of time in or on my bed…it is comfy, I have a little nest for my computer on my lap, and it is where I often blog and share photos…more importantly, it is where I always have the baby with me…we live far away and I’ve only visited in person twice. However, my daughter and son-in-law are INCREDIBLY generous when it comes to sharing with me, supplying me with endless photos and frequent hangouts, so I never feel deprived. Love me some baby girl.

When I moved up here to my heaven, I left behind a lot of friends in a lot of places. Yesterday I had the chance to catch up with four dear friends in Portland…we brunched, we walked, we shopped, we sat on benches, we had snacks and libations onboard a vessel and then we left each other for our respective long drives home. It was wonderful! Aren’t friends refilling/refueling/refreshing? Can’t wait to try it again with other friends!

I get in food ruts. I am currently in a HUGE food rut. For breakfast, lunch or dinner these days, you might see on my plate a tomato, salt, pepper and mayo sandwich on good bread OR chicken and avocado with salt, pepper and mayo on good bread…as a matter of fact, I am going to use the last of the chicken I roasted a few days ago and the last half of an avocado for my breakfast in a few. I wonder what my next food rut will be?

It has been a while…

I haven’t blogged in a long time…no good reason, just kind of overwhelmed with life.

May I just say that depression sucks? I am a lifelong sufferer. Since medication entered my life, in my thirties, I have felt better…most of the time. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a “magic” pill that works all the time. I did well on one medication for years, and then it stopped working. That pattern has continued for each med I have tried. After a few years on my latest med, I am finding myself sliding slowly but surely into the murkiness. So, as soon as I can gather myself, I will go back to the doctor and try once again to find something that will allow me to return to my preferred cheery and optimistic state.

In the meantime, I try to focus on things that I love and that brighten my world. One new thing that has enriched my life is a mobile app called Happier. It encourages me to post quick, but meaningful things that make me happy, through words and/or photos. Even as I was weeping over the devastation and lives lost (especially those of the children) in Moore, Oklahoma yesterday, I was able to reach deep and share. Thank you to the folks who created this application…it makes me very happy!

Speaking of things that make me happy…

And then there are…

Lots of reasons to be happy!

Molly and the prosthesis…

Because I really don’t want to get up and start my day, and because I have been going through scanned photos and have been thinking about my mother-in-law a lot (she died in 2010 and we now live in her house), and because I have been watching our old home videos (remember, my husband is a TV guy and my children were constantly being recruited by him for little movies, written, shot and produced by hus), I thought I would share a particularly poignant and funny memory of Molly and my mum-in-law’s prosthesis…

A long, long time ago, we rescued a black and white springer spaniel named Molly. She was 4 months old when she came to us, and we figured that she would eventually outgrow her puppy, mouthy ways…um, no, she was a springer spaniel…springers tend to remain puppyish until they are 10, then they are old…no inbetween. In those days, my in-laws lived half a year in Maine and half in Arizona. So, twice a year, they would come stay with us overnight as they passed through our area.

Now I need to go back a little…my mum-in-law was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a radical mastectomy when she was, if I remember correctly, in her late 60s. As a result, she had a breast prosthesis that she wore in her bra when she was out in public…and visits to us were deemed to be public.

OK, back to one of their twice-yearly visits…we had a wonderful weekend together and waved the in-laws off on their journey back home to Maine. After they left, we were returning the house to its normal state when we caught Molly happily pulling the filling out of what looked like a fluff-stuffed bean bag. We were absolutely baffled as to what the thing was, gathered up all the pieces and put them aside for later consideration. That evening, when my mum-in-law called to tell us they had gotten home safely, she asked me if I had found the breast prosthesis that she had inadvertently left it behind. I told her I would look for it, hung up, and BAM! The lightbulb went off…Molly had found the missing prosthesis and that was what she had de-fluffed.  The hus and I frantically stuffed all the fluff back in, I painstakingly stitched it back together and we sent it off to my mum-in-law with fulsome apologies and offers of replacement…included in the package was a hus-drawn cartoon of a penitent Molly holding an eviscerated prosthesis in her mouth. This became a family joke, and just the mention of Molly’s name in mum-in-law’s presence elicited fits of giggling.

I loved my mum-in-law’s ability to laugh…I think of her so often and cherish all the memories that make us all smile.

Happy birthday to me…

We are not big birthday people in our family. I am so NOT a party person and after the kids got past the birthday party stage, that was it. I do, however, like my birthday to be about choosing…I get to choose without feeling guilty that I might choose something that was not someone else’s preference. Perhaps because I am the oldest of four girls, I learned early on that life went more smoothly if choice was ceded to the sister who cared the most. Or perhaps it is because that is my personality, my comfort zone. It would certainly explain why I was most comfortable working in solo law offices, directly with one person, ensuring that that person’s life went as smoothly, as comfortably and as pleasantly as I could make it.

However, back to choosing…for my birthday this year, I ordered a pair of shoes which will probably never see the light of day on my feet. I ordered a pair of brightly flowered, HIGH heel, peep-toed pumps. And when I say high heel, I mean a 4″ heel…me, who has trouble keeping my balance walking down the driveway in my comfie boots…I may never wear them, but they will be mine…they will sit in my closet and brighten the lives of my ordinary, comfortable but not stylish shoes and boots. So, there.

Happy birthday to me…

Emptynesting…

I read an article on Boston.com this morning about women who find new paths in life after their children are grown and gone. Count me in…

I waited a long time (well, back then it was a long time) to have babies. I finished college, met the man of my destiny, moved with him across country (in the old Volkswagen bus with the dog and the cat and everything else we owned in boxes in the back) with nothing in our minds except someone’s statement that there was good community theater to be performed in New England. We moved and married and moved and moved…one day, we woke up and knew it was time for babies. We were 29 when the first was born and 32 when the second arrived. And then we moved and moved and moved and moved. We followed, as hus’ career dictated fairly frequent market shifts.

In amongst all that moving, I bore babies, nursed babies, raised babies and worked different jobs (weekend morning anchor on news station, secretary at construction company, commercials and voice work)…once the babes were old enough for daycare, my jobs became more “normal”. Somewhere along the line, I discovered that legal secretaries not only made more money than some other office workers, but “legal secretary” also carries with it a bit of cachet, an aura of intelligence and competence…a job that could also stimulate my mind. So, for the next million years, I worked outside home fulltime and parented fulltime. My life was their lives…I chose jobs that were more flexible, told employers up front that I was an active parent and accepted lower pay for quality attitudes towards me…I drove to away soccer and softball/baseball games and swim meets, injured my tailbone (seriously!) sitting on concrete bleacher seats and attended every concert and performance with bells on.

I loved almost every moment of that part of my life. It was really hard, often frustrating and I was not the perfect mother I wish I could have been. But we certainly did something right, launching two amazing, caring, loving, hardworking human beings who have each found and married another amazing human being. And so it goes…

But then my dad-in-law needed us…he was a great guy, I had known him for what seemed like forever (we met when I was about 21), he and my mom-in-law had been so gracious and loving towards me all my married life…and he needed us…which meant another move. The fates conspired to have us sell our house before it even went on the market, and my husband’s job mainly requires him to be near a major airport (oh, how we thank our lucky stars for his employers). All that was left was for me to quit my jobs…and therein lay the rub…

I had to quit a job that I loved for so many years, working with a solo practicing attorney who played the piano and sang and loved the arts and who appreciated me for what I had to offer…that was excruciating in so many ways. Plus, I had to quit another job I had held for years…I joined Washington Street Players when it was in its infancy, in March of its first season…as my children grew older and needed my constant presence less, my endeavors with WSP stepped up…acting, directing, producing, Board Secretary, moving sets and running lights and sound, Board President…after the kids were gone, WSP was there. And then, poof! In March 2011, it all came to a sudden end. And we moved again…

I haven’t found my latest empty nest path yet…photography has helped, bringing Boo the miniaussiedoodle into our lives was a life-changing experience, my work at the local library helps…but I am waiting for my next role to conk me in the head…waiting…

FEET of snow!!!

Leave it to me to be out gallivanting while we had the biggest snow storm in AGES at home…

I left home on February 1, headed to Georgia to join my sisters and cousin in celebrating my dad’s 88th birthday. It was the first time all we girls had been together without our kids in I don’t know how long. The first two days were spent talking, talking and talking…my dad reminisced about his childhood, about growing up on Catalina Island, about his and his father’s baseball careers, about World War II…a little bit of everything with everyone chiming in. We girls (that’s how we still think of ourselves, even though we are now quite definitely women) also stole time to naked sauna and scrub, to walk through the neighborhood, to lie on our backs and meditate on my sister’s special therapeutic bed, to shop at a high-end consignment store and to laugh with abandon. And then it was over and we all went our separate ways, feeling closer than ever with family spirit.

I took advantage of being down South and detoured to Orlando to steal time with my divine daughter and my amazing grandbabygirl. AND it just happened to include a weekend that saw her husband winging his way up to Boston for a beer festival (Lucas is a cicerone and the Central Florida sales rep for Cigar City Brewing), so we planned a girls’ weekend for the three of us. As soon as I arrived in Florida, however, I started to hear serious talk of a major snow storm scheduled to hit New England that very weekend…needless to say, we were glued to IPhones and weather forecasts, trying to determine (1) if Lucas would be able to take off on Friday, (2) if, having chosen to go, would Lucas be able to return on Sunday, and (3) if my Sunday flights back to New England would be impacted. As it worked out, Lucas’ flight was one of the last flights into Logan, the eventual 2 feet of snow had started to fall, a citywide driving ban was instituted, his event was postponed and he was stranded in a city that had virtually closed down for the days he was there…AND he was there with no gloves and two pair of sneakers (the Upstate New York boy has turned into a Florida man). I can’t wait to hear his adventures. As for me, my flights were pretty uneventful, although my last leg was delayed for an hour because it had had to be de-iced at its prior stop. But that’s where the NEW adventure kicked in!

Back at the homestead, three feet of snow had fallen, which meant that our 1/2 mile driveway couldn’t be plowed using ordinary measures. We needed the BIG BOYS to come in and plow us out. And the big boys were all otherwise occupied for days…our name was put on the list and that was that. Our friend (who just happens to be our plow man) insisted that my husband borrow one of their cars so he could get to the airport to pick me up. This still meant, however, that husband and dog had to walk through thigh and sometimes hip high snow the half mile out. By the time they got out, they were both completely exhausted. And still they drove the 2 hours to pick me up at the airport. We stayed in the big city that night, had our dentist appointments and then headed home…as we drove home, we got word that our plow guy had been able to plow a narrow strip most of the way to our house before his plow truck broke down. So, we only had to trek back through the three feet of snow (did I mention thigh and hip high?) too many hundreds of feet (did I mention that it was pitch dark and husband was leading the way using his smartphone flashlight?). I fell a couple of times and thought I might just stay where I was until spring. However, if Boo could do it, so could I. We made it to the house and collapsed…what an amazing adventure…

And now it is two days later (my husband’s birthday — happy birthday, old man!!!) and the monster plow truck made it down the driveway and plowed us a perfect path…the car is back in front of the house and life starts to resume a more “normal” rhythm. I wouldn’t trade my days with my sisters OR my days with my grandbabe, but I was a bit wistful at having missed the reality of three feet of snow falling from the sky.

Coming alive again…

I have felt for a long time as if I was in a cocoon…and I guess for good reason. We spent our early years moving every few years, as my husband’s career flourished. I got used to moving. Then we settled in the Boston area and only moved from one suburb to another…we actually lived 15 years in the same house. And then my mother-in-law died, leaving my then-96yo dad-in-law living alone in the assisted living apartment. We spent a few months doing the MA to ME run on weekends and holidays, but we knew that couldn’t be sustained. SO, we decided to talk to a real estate agent about putting our house on the market in the summer, after we had had a chance to spruce up our aging gem. THEN the universe decided to throw us a huge curve ball. I exchanged a couple of emails with a real estate agent to get an idea of what to expect. But before I ever had a chance to meet her, she sold our house! Well, kind of…a fellow agent had a client who needed to purchase a house in our neighborhood and needed to find said house the next weekend. She asked if we could show the house, AS-IS, the next weekend. We showed it on a Saturday, got an offer on a Sunday, and accepted on Monday… and we were packed, loaded into a truck and moved, all in under 2 months.

And then I was living amidst boxes in a tiny new town, hours away from my friends and my theater group and my job, having as my new job something for which I am completely unsuited…dealing with my in-laws’ belongings, which filled the house into which we had moved…and then unpacking and organizing the boxes of our own belongings into the house. I am really good at unpacking…but please don’t ask me where to put things, how to organize a room, how to arrange a house. Even worse, I was doing it alone, as husband got called away for work…he left me the day we moved into the little house and came home three weeks later, shocked at how little I had accomplished. Oh, and need I add that during much of those three weeks, I was without telephone, TV or internet…PBS radio was my lifeline to the outside world.

Now, nearly two years later, we are still tossing tossing tossing, trying to fit ourselves into this compact living space…but it is home, it is happy, it is ours. We added a puppy to our family, giving me much-needed company when hus is on the road. My dad-in-law passed away in September, so there are no more Wednesday dinners and Sunday brunches at the assisted living place. Two different groups of girlfriends came to visit, stirring up in me the memory of what it feels like to have friends, to have hobbies, to have a life.

And then, in November of last year, I went to my Town Hall to vote and the Director of the Board of Library Trustees was there to show off plans for the new library. I glanced at the plans and noticed there seemed to be a lot of community space in the proposed building. She and I chatted about possibilities for use of those spaces, including playreading and theater classes. She took my name and email address…two days later, I got a call from the head volunteer at the library, asking if I wanted to volunteer. I said yes, was put on the schedule and started work the next week. And POOF! I was happy. I was happy while I was working, but more importantly, I was happier when I got home. I am learning lots about the tiny town I now inhabit and there is no better place than the front desk of the local library to meet my neighbors. I don’t feel as alone as I did, all because of 2-3 hours a week spent at the library.

I am one of those really weird people who appears quite extroverted, but who is actually very shy…friends are often surprised to hear how unsure I really am of my own self worth. Left to my own devices, I love my cocoon. That isn’t healthy, though, and I am always on the lookout for opportunities to change. This is turned into a great opportunity and I’m eager to embrace it with vigor!

Little bits…

I am full of it these days…just filled up to the top…

My daughter gave me a fitness boot camp membership for Christmas. Was she sending me a message? She certainly was. Whether she realized it or not, she was telling me that it was time to put up or shut up. So, I decided to put up. The boot camp itself is fierce; conducted online, most of the women are considerably younger than I and are ALL considerably more fit than I. However, it is also very flexible and accommodating…it can even be dumbed-down for someone starting as slowly as I have. It is a circuit of targeted exercise routines, and so far, I am using hand weights, a stability ball, a mat and my front yard…I’m planning to add in some Wii games or dance sessions soon. Almost one week under my belt with mixed results. However, the best thing that has come from this is the knowledge that it doesn’t really matter WHAT I do, it is that I just do it. I have had great fun with the exercises and will try to incorporate sessions into my day-to-day life. I guess this post is my attempt to stay accountable to myself. So, thank you, Katy.

My internal clock is completely out of whack…I am still so sedentary that my brain doesn’t seem to require as much sleep as my body wants. Hmmm…maybe I should do more of the above and see if that tires my body out. Just a thought as I lie here in the wee hours of the morning.

I loved watching my son and daughter-in-law meet their brand-new nephew a few weeks ago…laughing at my son holding what he admitted was his first baby ever. And then, just a couple of weeks later, I had the joy of watching them meet their niece, my first grandbaby. Even more weepy-inducing were the looks on all their faces as they realized that they were all part of the next generation of our big, ol’ extended and extensive family…the baton has been passed. This mother’s heart was so full of happyhappyhappy…

And then there is Audrey…what more can I say about Audrey…before I had children, I was terrified that I would be a terrible mother. I got through that, and then was terrified that I would be a terrible grandmother. Well, once again, I had underestimated Mama Nature…there is some hormone or breath or lightning that strikes a human at the birth of one’s baby…and, much to my wonder, I discovered that it strikes again at the birth of one’s baby’s baby. It might help that we live far apart and I am not always there…it also helps (a lot) that my daughter is a prolific and imaginative photographer and sharer-with-her-mother, making said mother feel as if she is really there.

Most importantly, at least to me, I feel as if something that has long been frozen inside of me, something scary and dark, is starting to thaw a bit…I’m working on keeping that thaw going…

It finally LOOKS like Christmas…

We have had a dusting here and there, but last night, Boo and I were wowed by the way a real amount of snow arrived in our neighborhood. We had lots of wind and rain and slush most of the day…nothing auspicious. However, as night fell and the temperatures dropped, it turned over to snow. Boo woke me up in the wee hours of the morning. I staggered out of bed to let him out and VOILA! There was snow! Boo had forgotten what snow felt, tasted and smelled like and he was instantly captivated. He scampered with abandon, using his snout to throw snow into the air and chasing what he had thrown. He and I came back in and huddled under the comforter, waiting for enough light to go back out and take photos. As you can see, we didn’t wait long.

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