Barnmaven

Baby its cold outside

Happy New Year, friends.  Thanks for spending your valuable and precious time reading and commenting here.

We've had freezing fog for several days now.  Everything outside looks as if it has been flocked, even the sagebrush.  Its beautiful and miserable at the same time.  Dry cold and dry heat share similar qualities in that they don't cling to you like the humid versions.  The guy from the heating & cooling company that was out to do our semi-annual service looked so miserable SG tipped him extra so he could go get a hot lunch somewhere.

I took some days off over the holidays and we were devoted practitioners of the art of lounging around in our pj's.  Settling in on the sofa underneath a quilt and watching shows on Netflix is a perfect way to exist when the outside temperature refuses to rise above freezing.   Yes, I'm fully into lazy mode.  SG came home on the 18th, so I took a couple of days off that week, worked the Monday before Christmas, took more days off after Christmas, and just went back to work yesterday.  I spent most of the last two days realizing just how many emails are in my inbox awaiting response and trying desperately to prioritize them.   One does not simply return from vacation all primed and ready to function like a real adult.  No, one does not.  This one, at any rate.  

The sensation 2013 left in me was that of riding a bullet train.  I may be simply echoing what so many others are saying, but the nature of time to march forward with ever-growing impulsion leaves me feeling somewhat out of breath and out of step.  I look back and realize I've hit middle age without every really seeing it coming.  Now is the time of life for me to really concentrate on enjoying the moment I'm in; the hourglass of my lifetime is running out of sand faster with each passing year. 

The more I try to fit everything in, the less time I have to enjoy any of it, the less I am able to allow each moment to distill by not being present.  So although I will be following my own tradition and not making formal resolutions for 2014, I do think the theme for this year will be to slow down a little bit and spend more time drinking in the quality of my life, experiencing and expressing gratitude.   

Even if our cold snap ends before tomorrow I have a feeling I will be spending more time in my pjs.  It will be a good start to the year.  May the New Year bring us all more days of peaceful enjoyment and fewer days of hurry and worry.

Peace and God bless.

 

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Brrrr!

Oh Christmas.

Getting them unplugged

 

Saturday morning started out much like most every other Saturday morning when the kids are at my house.  By 6 am one or the other of them is at my bedroom door asking whose turn it is to get on the computer.  I randomly choose one of them and try to sleep for a few more minutes through the cacophony of disappointment and victory.  I drag myself out of bed, search for my eyeglasses and stub my toe walking down the hall to make coffee.

Fall has finally hit us here in the interior of Washington State, and this weekend had a forecast that called for staying home in ones' PJ's.  The arrival of fall also means that the available hours of daylight to get on my horse are dwindling.  So, despite the dire weather reports, I made plans to go to my friend's place.  She has a lovely covered arena and we decided that if it rained we could practice for the schooling show this weekend, and if it didn't rain, we could go out on the trails that lead from her place out along the Oregon side of the Columbia River.  SG and her partner get along quite well so we packed lunch items and some wine and decided to make a good half-day of it.

Getting horses fed and the trailer hooked up and loaded is always the easy part.  Getting my kids out of the house requires earplugs, a cattle prod and kevlar protective wear.

"I don't WANT to go!" my daughter cried, stamping her feet.  "I want to stay home and play Animal Jam!"  "NOOOOOOOO!" my son screams as I instruct him to end his Wii game. 

Their protests, though heartfelt, don't move me.  There are going to be plenty of inclement weather days this winter for them to turn into screen-watching slugs.  Bugs is already starting to grow his winter coat which leads me to believe we are in for a cold, icy November.  For now, I intend for my children to be outside as much as possible, even if I have to force them.

Once we got to Julie's, they forgot all about their games at home.  Ted had a burn pile going over by the pig pens and they couldn't get out of the truck fast enough.  They scrambled like puppies down to watch the flames, and for the next couple of hours I didn't hear one single whine, complaint or "I have nothing to DOOOOOOO".

They got to see the big 700 pound sow and her piglets and touch the noses of the weaner pigs.  They "helped" Ted do chores and played with the 6 year old son of the lovely young lady who trains horses at Julie's.  They got dirty and wet and generally had a wonderful time.  

SG got to hang out with Ted and make plans for butchering a pig next week (hel-LO Bacon!).  I not only got to ride my horse in the arena but on the trail as well when the rain gave us a nice intermission and we scurried out to the trailhead.  Just about the time we got back the wind started to pick up and big raindrops splattered my back. 

I guess we all got to unplug a little bit.  It was nice.

Into reality

My brain is an escape artist.

It takes advantage of books and movies, mostly, though daydreams will do in a pinch. If the story is good enough for me to suspend disbelief, my consciousness will gladly take a break from the here and now and spend time in that imagined world.  

Once the movie ends or whenever its time to put the book down for a bit, there is a small period of adjustment as my cerebral hemisphere attempts to transition between the imaginary and the ordinary.  Occasionally I'll have a small moment of panic as it seems that awareness of the passage of time is one of those functions that takes a short vacation.  I was reading at the nail place this weekend during my pedicure and when I was driving away I looked up the street and saw my bank.  My adrenaline surged briefly as I tried to remember if I'd actually paid bills on our last payday.  Of course I had; but that reality hadn't yet returned.

I had a similar experience during the weeks that followed my brother's death, but instead of escaping to an imaginary reality, my brain took refuge in the minutiae of planning, sorting, figuring out what needed to be done.  When all was said and done and I headed back home to real life, my brain was reluctant to follow me back.  The period of dislocation was extended and profound; no surprise, my conscious brain was in no hurry to take residence in a reality where my loved one was no longer going to be present - ever.  

Interestingly enough, I have periodic moments of panic when I forget that he is gone and realize I've let an important date or event slip by without calling or inviting him.  Or I've fallen into a daydream of childhood and adult memories, conversations we've had, youthful escapades, various episodes that became the stuff of family legend.  Then I remember and that little zip of adrenaline sinks into something I can't name but feels like hollow pressure inside the center of my sternum and a lurching sensation in my stomach.

And people probaby wonder "when is she going to stop talking about her dead brother?" but its less that than an acknowledgment to friends who have also suffered losses who are remember birthdays, holidays and events and living through them without their own loved ones.  

I don't believe there is a finite point where one must no longer make public references to someone they've lost.  We can be past that period of heavy, active grief and still be filled with memories and thoughts of the person we miss so deeply.  Wishing them a happy birthday or remarking how much they had been here to join us for a reunion, event or holidy - its not morbid, its not escaping reality, its not attention-seeking.  We honor those we love even though they are gone because they made a mark on our lives that can never be erased.  Steph remembers her dad's birthday even if none of her other family members are talking about it on Facebook.  Vicki writes to Jack how much she loves and misses him on the fifth anniversary since he died.  Varda finds more pictures of her mother and father and posts them on her blog.  Our memories are engaged and for a period of time we do not wish to take that step out of the theatre door into the afternoon sunlight.

Woudl that it were that easy.

Rest, Play, Rest, Play

Weekends are supposed to be for recharging your batteries, right?  Which supposition leaves me wondering what it is I'm doing wrong.  I ended up taking a nap in a lawn chair at 7 pm last night, woke up in time for the weekly episode of True Blood, then collapsed into bed, waking at 5 am bleary-eyed and feeling way too tired for the 40 minute kickboxing workout The Daily Burn made me do.  That's right, I said made me do.  They said if I did their cardio workouts for 30 days I'd get into amazing shape.  Its probably a lie, and there is something rather pathetic about an almost 50 year old woman sweating like a pig and trying to jab and kick as fast or as well as three twenty year old chicks who look like you could bounce quarters off their collective asses, but I put on my bathing suit this weekend to cool off in the pool and I know how badly I need to do those jab-and-kick combos.  Not to mention also needing to get something resembling color on my legs.   White dough. Yuck.

"I don't care what you say, you're still sexy, baby," SG says to me when I complain.  Not that a man his age is going to be terribly picky, but its nice to know your husband thinks you're hot.

That pool has to be the best investment we've made in the last 12 months.  

Its an above-ground pool, 42" deep and its either the 23' or the 18' model, I can't remember which.  It was on sale the end of last summer at the department store and well worth every penny of $299.  I spent several hours in it this weekend.  Saturday it was just SG and me and a couple of large margaritas, and then yesterday the kids were home and the four of us splashed and played and had a great time.  The kids were in the pool more than they were out of it yesterday, and it warms my heart to see how quickly Race Car Man will jump away from Minecraft and go racing to find his swimsuit when I quietly ask "Hey, dude, want to go in the pool?"  I think its good for parents to find activities to do with the kids during the summer, but lets face it, summer is long and my mind is frequently dull.  Having the pool makes it easy to get them outside and away from the computer, TV and DS screens.

I probably would have felt more rested today but last night we had SG's parents and his friend Jim over for dinner.  SG cooked a tri-tip on the grill and we made a dent in the wine rack.  SG picked up a bottle of Tagaris 2009 BoarDoe.  Cute name.  Really decent wine.  My father in law brought a bottle of Kiona Vineyards Cyclops, also a treat.  Apparently last night was the night for red blends.  

 My in-laws are lovely and always easy to have.  Jim is also fun to have over, but inevitably his presence ends up involving too much wine and too much of he and I wrangling over politics.  We always start talking riding - he has mules and we trail ride together sometimes.  Inevitably this leads to something political (Jim and my husband are hardcore Libertarians).  I play the devil's advocate and start with the "what about this" line of questioning.  We always have fun and we love each other to death, but I blame him for both my need for an evening nap AND the headache between my eyes this morning.  

"Mommy, why are you guys fighting?" the kids ask.  "They aren't fighting, they're discussing," SG tells them.  "Oh, OK" they say, not believing.  "Discussing sounds a lot like fighting."  But it was my house so I win.  When we go to Jims he gets to win.  I think.

Note to self:  Arguing politics makes you tired and crabby in the morning.

Rest, play, rest, play.  My weekend involved a lot of both.  How was yours?