Que Sera Sera

The weather has cooled, finally, and I've had some days off (three in a row!) Thus I've gotten back out to the garden.  Our yard is one of those areas that has been horrifically neglected this summer.  I've not had the time and Mr. Peculiar would really rather do anything but work in the yard.  Me?  I like it.  I like the bending and digging and pulling and trimming.  I like being outside.  I like chatting with neighbors as they walk by.  I like the good sore that comes with hard work. And, of course,  I like the satisfaction of a job well done.

Though it would be easy (minus the expense) to have a gardener,  I would not enjoy it.  What's there to feel good about if someone else has done all the work?

I managed today despite having vertigo and balance issues on and off.  The beauty of being home is that I can accomplish things despite my bothersome ear.  Then, if need be, I can lie down and ride out the rougher periods.  Not so at my paying job.  First off there's no room to be incapacitated.  Second off I can't help but to feel guilty when out of commission.

Alas there's not much to be done (shy of rest and fluids and a healthy diet and exercise).

I did make it through a very busy work weekend without falling over (though did feel off balance at 4:00 am).   I keep reminding myself whatever will be will be.  Things may be get better or they may get worse.  I don't have a crystal ball and I don't have a whole lot of control.  Instead I need to appreciate the good moments and survive the bad ones.

All in all today was quiet good.  Sleeping in.  Cool breezes.  Hanging with the chickens and new flowers for the yard.   And now a long hot shower.  Doesn't that sound just fabulous?  

xo.

New Beginnings

I'm sitting in the backyard.  The chickens are out and scratching about.  The dogs are running to and fro -- checking the action back here and then running to the front to make sure all is well in the neighborhood.  A scrub jay scolds us from above.  My coffee is hot and aromatic with a splash of vanilla.  A light breeze jangles the neighbor's wind chimes. The temperature is perfect.

I'm sitting here contemplating life and work and stress and pressure.  This summer was the summer that wasn't.  I picked up several relief shifts over in the valley - working on my days off.  Both to supplement our income and to help offset the costs of an upcoming (and much needed) vacation.  I'm done with those shifts now and am grateful they are behind me.  I missed writing and sitting with the chickens and crafting and puttering around the house.  I missed days at the pool, walks downtown and nights snuggled on the couch.

At the tail end of my work spree I began to have vertigo again.  Periods of dizziness and nausea are not new in my world but they are an indication I've pushed too far. It's time to step back and spend more moments like this -- relaxing and contemplating.  Even now, if I get up to check the chickens,  the world spins just a bit.  This is unfortunate as I have to work tonight.  Mild dizziness I can handle.  Severe vertigo and nausea I can not.  If I had sick pay I'd likely use it and not go in to work.  Unfortunately I do not have illness benefits.  As such if I do not work I do not get paid.   Thus I will be going in and hope that this dizziness does not progress.

If it does progress a relief doctor will have to be called in and I'll have to come home.  This happened last week and it wasn't pretty. This illness is mortifying and embarrassing and, for the most part, out of my control.  I am very much hoping that latest bout of vertigo was simply the result of over working and not from a natural progression of my disease.

I remain grateful for long-term disability insurance.  Something I've reluctantly paid into for the past ten years.  However I can't help but worry that if the time comes for me to make a claim I will be denied.  After all insurance is a business and it is in their best interest to reduce the number of persons "on the dole".

I also worry about the short term implications of not being able to work.  The long term is covered (potentially).  The short term not so much.  Three months without income would be tough.  In my state (Oregon) there are no governmental programs for short term disability. I doubt, now, that I would qualify for private short term plans given my current diagnosis.

Deep in my heart I know worrying is useless.  There is little point to these anxieties.  Life will be what it will be with or without worry.  And yet it's hard to stop that wheel; especially once it's set in motion.

At any rate it's nearly fall.  There is a delicious crispness in the air that signals renewal. Fall has always felt like a time of new beginnings; a new school year and a fresh start.  Time to reorganize and categorize and begin again.  And so I will begin again.  Each and every day.  And I vow to take notice of the little things.  The serene moments that bring joy to each day. Today that moment was sitting in the backyard.

And now, if I can herd those chickens back into their coop, I need to shower and ready myself for another night.  Here's hoping I stay on my feet.

xo.

Seventeen

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.  

Today Mr. Peculiar and I have been married for seventeen years.  After work he, I and Little walked downtown for a leisurely dinner.  On the way home we spied these lovelies -- gorgeous sunflowers nestled in a rusty blue corrugated tin bed.  Just right.   

And now my shoes are off and my feet are up.  I am very much looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow.

This weekend work was challenging, heart-breaking.  We provided much needed services for ailing animals and their families. But, with each interaction, we gave away a piece of ourselves.  Upon arriving home my cup was empty; I was mentally and physically exhausted.

I am so grateful my family was here to help me refill my cup.

These last seventeen years have passed in the blink of an eye.  Here's to another seventeen and then some.

xo.

Things I'm Loving Today

The epitome of summer is fresh flowers from the garden.  They are sweet, frugal and born from years of tending.  I can't even begin to tell you how happy they make me.  These flowers are but one of many things I am loving today.  

Today I am loving:

• My cutting garden
• A clean living room
• A quiet house
• The gentle cluck of a chicken as she lays an egg
• Nights off work
• Air conditioning
• Blueberries straight off the vine
• Chores systematically checked off the list
• Naps and sleeping in
• Fresh baked bread

And now off to have that nap.  

xo.  

Ball Jar Sewing Kit -- Perfect Little Gifts

It's been nearly a month since I've been to this site.  I've had the opportunity to pick up shifts. Extra work. And I jumped on it.  This work is a chance to make up some ground.  And it's good.  But oh it's tiring.  So tiring.  And I miss this space.  And contemplation.  And I miss my time with the house -- cooking and cleaning and keeping the chaos at bay.  But something has got to give - and the house and this space (and possibly my hearing) are it.

This summer, though only just begun, already feels like the summer that was; something that's going to slip through my grasp like sand.  I find myself wistfully looking forward to fall.  Pumpkins and crafts, cooking and "me" time.  Time to regroup and reorganize, time to putter and nest.  Time to pull back from working two jobs.

But for now?  Well I am simply getting through each day.  One minute, one hour and one day at a time.  I'm striving to enjoy the little things.  The spaces in between available for me and my family.

And yesterday was one of those days.  Time off.  At home.  Little has a couple of birthday parties to attend and I used my time to whip up some gifts.  I wanted to make something useful.  Something to occupy and to entertain.  Something pretty.

After some bouncing around Pinterest I came across this -- a ball jar sewing kit.  Perfect!  Just the thing for the soon to be nine and soon to be ten-year-old.

I had some ball jars laying around.  And some vintage lids picked up at tag sale. At the time I didn't know what I was going to use them for.  But I'm grateful I didn't pass them by.  Following the basic instructions here I turned the jar tops into pin cushions.  Then I went to Joann's and bought some notions; embroidery scissors, floss, thread, needles, measuring tape, etc.  I also picked up a couple of these sweet towels pre-stamped for embroidery with adorable kittens.  In addition I bought a couple of small embroidery hoops.

I'm pleased with the way these kits turned out and am happy to have these gifts done and ready to go.  Now another long weekend at work.  

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can ... 

xo.  

Use It Wisely

Yesterday I accomplished something amazing.  Something transformative.  Something that felt like the turning point to get my life back.  I finished a half-marathon.

And yet it all seems so trivial, so irrelevant.  Because yesterday I also watched a man, a man my age, as he lay dying.

Back in January I signed up for a half-marathon.  I had grand plans to get in shape.  Then life got in the way.  I barely trained.  And yet I didn't want to quit.  Wisely or not I decided to do the marathon anyway.  A friend and co-worker of mine was also in the same boat.  We put ourselves in the very back of the pack -- our only goal to finish.

And indeed we were in the back.  So much so there were no visible people in front of us and no visible people behind us. This was a trail run -- through the wonderful forested high desert.  It felt like we were alone in the world despite the 750 people ahead of us.

Things were going well and we were pacing ourselves nicely; running one minute and walking two.  We made it halfway through the course when things changed.  Up ahead was a group of people.  This was odd because we'd passed a watering station about a mile back.   Could another station be so soon?

Then we came up to the group.  A man was down on the trail and the people were performing CPR. We stood there, dumbfounded, trying to determine if we could be of some help. As it turns out the people who stopped before us were an ER doctor, a nurse and a nursing student; all participants in the race.  They were taking turns giving chest compressions. The paramedics were on their way.  It seemed there was nothing we could do.  We did not want to be in the way and therefore decided to continue on -- albeit with a heavy heart.

Soon thereafter we saw a man on a bicycle with a defibrillator.  We were hopeful.  We saw life flight come and go.  We were hopeful.  We crossed the finish line and did not hear any news.  We were hopeful.  

Our hopes went unanswered.  The runner, a vibrant forty-year-old man, died on the trail.

And I wonder -- should I have stayed?  Was there anything I could have or should have done?  I know the answer -- could I have done something I would have.  Had we been first on the scene we'd have been doing CPR.  As it stands the best people were already there.

My whole heart goes out to Mr. Tufts family and loved ones.  Though I didn't know him I want to reach out and help in any way that I can.  

This death brings me full circle back to the start of this blog.  What would I do if I had twelve months to live?  And the same holds true -- all the things I wanted to do then I still want to do today.  Seems I'd best get on it.  Today I'm cleaning house and cooking dinner.   This afternoon I'm plotting how to travel (do we really need two cars?).  Tonight I'll read a book.  And tomorrow another.

This startling experience is yet another reminder to be present.  To live in the moment.  Because life does not come with guarantees.  Not only do I want to take this to heart.  I want you to take this to heart.

We all have a finite and undetermined amount of time on this planet.  Use it wisely.

xo.

I don't, can't and won't.

I am finally done with my long stent at work, well, temporarily at least.  The busyness starts up again in July for a final month.  The reward is bills paid off, less money owed.   I confess it's difficult to get excited about paying bills, rather than, say, a trip to Europe.  But it is what it is.

This extra work has taken a toll on me and on this house.  Things are a mess. I've not had the energy to clean.  I've not had energy period.  All I want to do is sleep, eat and read.  In the meantime the weeds are growing, the laundry is multiplying and dishes may be breeding penicillin.

Where is the woman who took pictures?  Who found the time to sew and knit?  Who planned and cooked meals?  Who gardened?  Who wrote? She is quite clearly MIA.  

When I leave the house I cringe; we are not keeping up with the Joneses.  When I enter the house I cringe -- what if the Joneses come over here?

It's all too easy to feel inadequate.  To feel defeated.  As much as I know in my head I can't do it all; my heart feels as if I should.  I *should* bring home the bacon and care for and maintain the house.  I should exercise, have gorgeous hair and delicate painted toe nails.  I should help my kids with their homework and tuck them in at night.

I should, I should, I should ... and yet.  I don't.  I can't and I won't.

As it stands I'm embodying Eeyore and not doing anything particularly well.  I'm earning money but not enough.  I've managed to clear a path through my house but not to clean it well.  I've showered but not gussied up.  My efforts feel mediocre at best.

After Thursday I have a week off.  I plan to putter and kick back and putter some more. With rest I suspect I'll find my equilibrium and get my mojo back.  In the meantime bear with me and my Eeyorish self.

"The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about." 

xo.