pain...

There is a bright red male cardinal sitting outside my window, he's been bouncing all over the deck, looking in the window, checking out the still empty planters, sitting on the grill chirping at me. I know he's looking for the food that I haven't gone and bought.  We might have solved the squirrel situation, but the bright red house is still sitting empty.

He's pretty upset.

It's been a rough year folks.  A really rough year. 

My Dad has passed.  Things are currently a struggle at work - and I'm sure a lot of that has to do with where I am currently residing mentally.  I've allowed some not so great people into my life, I'm working on fixing that.  And on Monday I got the news that one of the dearest people I've ever known passed away.  It was unexpected, one of the B's and I had been questioning why we hadn't heard from her, but we've all been through a lot this year and simply didn't realize so much time had passed. That call shook us to our bones.

This Friday I will say good-bye to her.  I'm dreading it.  I am tired of the finality of it all. Next Saturday we will place some of Dad's ashes in his final resting spot.

I'm struggling really hard with so many things.  It feels like my world is spiraling out of control.  Remember being a kid on the merry-go-round?  Dad would say hold on tight and the push as hard as he could. Sometimes your legs would fly out in all directions, sure you were going to fly off into outer space?  Because as a kid you didn't realize that that truly couldn't launch you to the stars, but it sure felt like it.

That's how I feel now. 

I know that I'm not going to fly off the planet.  I know that my current world isn't strong enough to pull me to the other side.  But I have to admit, it sure feels it.

It's getting harder and harder to put a smile on my face.  To find my happy mask and make it through the day positive and upbeat.  My fibro is starting to flare for the first time in almost a year I am starting to feel the immense pain that signals the need for a break.

To step back.

I have some difficult things to get through over the next few days, and then it is time to take a break.  Not ideal timing, I have a golf tournament coming up.  But the reality is that there is never going to be an ideal time and my body and heart are telling me they've had enough for the moment.

I know the warning signs.  It's been 21 years in May. I also know the disastrous effects of not listening. I have ignored it and pushed through in the past only to have a long, torturous journey back to me.  I'm not interested in it.

Friday night I will rest.  I will focus on centering.  I will take long baths and leisurely walks with my dogs.  I will fill the bird feeder and plants flowers.  I might reconnect with people that I have been too "busy" to see.  I will do the things that feed my soul.  I will cry a few times.  I will laugh often.

I have a need to spend time with my loved ones.  To make memories and help each other heal from all the pain and damage we've suffered through.

I've stocked up on the things that make me feel whole.  I need to create when my world is like this.  It grounds me.  Hubs and I are already planning how to use some fairly empty space in our house to store all the soaps and bath bombs that I want to make so they can cure in peace and I still have room to do the laundry.

Well, it's time to find my mask and start the day.  As I look longingly at my new molds and visions of soap batter dances in my head.  I have tons of new versions that I am longing to try.  And the bath bombs... I do love a great bath and even more so with a bath bomb.  Dang you LUSH! 

Go find a cardinal and listen to it's song, it might be a loved one bringing you a message.  Hoping you will listen. Even if not, it will calm your inner turmoil.  Spend some time reconnecting in this disconnected world.  You definitely won't regret it.

hurting...

Apocaloptmist... That popped up in my memories on Facebook today.  The definition is that even though you know it's going to shit you still believe it will all be okay.

That is the world I have been walking in since the beginning of January.  Every step forward ends up going even further backwards. It's been brutal.  I feel like I am continually waiting for that next shoe to drop.

I keep looking for that ray of sunshine, that hopeful moment, the upswing.

I truly do feel they are coming.  As I am watching the rain outside the window, I am hopeful that it is washing away some of the negative energy that seems to be blanketing my world and the world of my loved ones.

Yesterday was spent in a numb bubble.  Dread is building up as we get ready to bury Dad's ashes. I am personally feeling very overwhelmed by it.  I've been to one other burial of a loved one.  I still struggle with it, the memory still stings my heart.  I don't know how I will handle it being my Dad.

I've opted to take vacation the week leading up to it, as it includes his birthday also and I will have to deal with that as well. Hubs will join me.  We are making plans that will keep us busy.  There will be motorcycle rides with picnics to take advantage of the spring days that are finally promising to break through.  We're working on a to do list, so many things are always left lingering on the edges.

We still have rooms that have boxes unpacked and we've lived here for almost 4 years.  There is a community wide yard sale coming up in a few weeks, I'm not a fan of yard sales, but if it will get a few things gone, it's worth it.

And at the same time, I am looking for things not to do.

This year has taught me so many lessons that I do not have the ability to even process yet.  It's also opened my eyes to many things.  I think that is why I am struggling so much. The loss of my father is horrible.  Yet I am not the first person to experience it and given that we are all moving towards death, I know that I am not the last person that will experience it.

It's other things that are weighing heavily on my heart and my mind. I am sure that the universe is whispering in my ear.  I'm starting to feel it is shouting at me.  Everywhere I turn there is another comment, meme, discussion, article or text that are all saying the same thing.

What are you spending your time doing?

What are all of us spending our time doing?  With the jaded glasses that I am currently looking through I am seeing a lot of us working for a living, but not for a life.

My rose colored glasses keep tinging darker.  They aren't so bright and shiny.

There are things going on in my world right now that are so much bigger than I have the capacity to deal with.  I know that I am struggling to hold all my bits and pieces together.  And as I watch the world around me, I feel like more and more of us are in the same place and time.

And each of us are trying to deal with it in a different way. Some of us are control freaks.  We are those people that are going to grasp the situation fully by the horns and make it fit our mold. Because if it fits and we can control it then it's all going to be perfect.

Other's hide.  If we don't see it, it's not really there.  We can hide physically, emotionally or we can hide behind things like smiles and humor.  Isn't it true that the best clowns were always the saddest people?

Some of us wander lost.  Afraid to take the steps that we KNOW we need and want to take.  Needing our security blanket of the everyday normal. We have ideas, thoughts and feelings that need us to pay attention, but we are insecure.  Afraid to take that chance.

Because all too often that chance is going to put us into a place we aren't comfortable. We are afraid to speak out because we've been conditioned to the norms that society has put into place. Afraid to take that leap.

I probably personally fall into the hiding and wandering column.  Afraid to be still, to listen, to see, to be aware of all of the signs around me.

The silence is so loud right now.  The roaring in my head is demanding attention.

And I'm afraid to listen to it.

I'm surrounded by people that are struggling and hurting.  I long to help, but know that I can't.

My own world is still too damaged and cluttered.  There are too many questions that need answers, too many journey's of my own that I am afraid to take.

I'm getting better about it.

I'm working on a plan for the future.  I mean for me that is a huge step.  I've always had dreams, but truthfully, the plan part has often eluded me.  I never write those dreams down and develop the steps needed to achieve them.  I just assume they will happen.

I'm trying to sort out this crazy pile of bits and pieces.

I'm trying to find my own path forward. Hubs and I are in the same place.  Knowing, dreaming, but not there.

The only thing that I am finding that is healing my soul is creating and nurturing.  It's being busy, but it isn't.  I've been following a Facebook page called Becoming UnBusy.  The more I follow, the more I realize what is missing and what I need.  I'm not sure if it caught my attention because all the meme's seem to depict a cup of coffee, but that doesn't hurt.

I am working on becoming UnBusy.  I'm working on really thinking about what I am spending my time on and if it is filling my soul with love, light and happiness.  And if it's not, then I am eliminating it.

The journey is just beginning, but I am loving the path it is following.  Even a journey like this needs a plan and then the commitment to see it through.

I think the world is a pretty crappy place for me right now, but I am choosing to keep smiling and focusing on moving forward.  There is a brighter place where smiles have the ability to always be real and not a mask.  I'm going to get there... I'm fighting to get all of my loved ones there with me too!

next steps?

The delicate flowers that are coming back belie the truth of the biting cold that just won't give up this year.

I'm a cold weather lover, I cherish it.  Or I used to. This year is wearing me out! My boys too!  We are rapidly pushing the end of April and it's still hovering down in the 30's at night and bitter cold wind all day.  It's hobbling our Neeko, his poor busted up foot is giving him grief from the cold making it hurt.

I am fairly certain this is the first time in my life that I've agreed with the statement - let's retire to the south.  Forever and a day I have fought that mentality, wishing for a home further north, with deep snow and four very distinct seasons.  After this year.  With minimal snow and days on end of just bone deep cold... hmmm... south is looking pretty darn good.

A lot of things are looking pretty darn good, and I know that it's simply where I am right now in my life.

I know that I am still working through the shock of losing my father.  I know that I am dealing with a dire need to get away.  And each time I think I've found the perfect week for Hubs and I to check out and work on getting our legs under us again something comes along and destroys it.  I really need that time.  I could take it on my own, but that is not what I need.  I need time for the two of us.  I need for us to be able to reconnect and gain our balance. 

It's been a rough year. 

I'm fairly certain that is the reason that I am struggling.  My focus is off.  It's like trying to look through glasses that are smeared with grease while walking on legos in stocking feet.

Maybe it's astrological, I've heard that Mercury has finally left retrograde, and it seems that puts some seriously negative energy out there.

I don't know. 

What I do  know is that I am longing for the days when we had our place in Sullivan.  Where the phones didn't work and we could disappear for days on end.  Where the most critical decisions that we had to make involved fishing before showering or showering first. A time when we could curl up and nap when we got tired and stay up all night playing cards if that is what we felt like doing.  No interruption from the outside world.  We'd always leave those weeks or weekends feeling refreshed, energized and bit out of touch.  It was heavenly.

It's been a really long time since we did that.  And it seems like the world is just getting crazier, more off balance, and far creepier than ever. The more "in-touch" and instant we have gotten the worse things are.

I'm watching far too many people forget to laugh, go out for a nice meal and watch families sit and stare at their phones (we are guilty too).  Conversations are no longer about good, positive, upbeat things.  Almost everywhere you turn there are televisions - mostly set to the news - and people absorbed in the brainwashing. 

Each time I blink I am seeing someone else I know suddenly become unemployed.  I feel like the world is becoming increasingly a place that you cannot put your trust or faith in.  I worry.  Are they prepared for that?  Have they been saving?  Do any of us do a great job at preparing for the unexpected anymore?  I don't think Hubs and I do, in fact, that is something we are working on changing.  We are working on becoming prepared for whatever life throws at you.  I can assure you, this year makes me realize that changes happen suddenly and harshly.

This journey that I am currently on is rocky and unstable.  I like smooth waters, maybe that is why I have't gone on a white water rafting trip.  I keep expecting another set of rapids that I am not prepared for.  I had to do a "test" for work, and I got the results not too long ago.  It was pretty darn spot on.

It's also been a bit unsettling, because I am not a risk taker, I hate risks.  And that is the only part that keeps playing in my mind.  That I need to take more risks and chances. Out of over 10 pages, that is what is resonating.

What is the universe trying to tell me? What am I missing... besides rest.

Well, it's time to bundle up and head out into this day.  Put a smile on my face and find the energy to be present.

energy and light...

You give energy to what you focus on...

That is the final line in a quote I read today.

It fits in with where my heart and brain are heading.  As I am sorting out my path forward I am also looking for ways to improve the journey there.

I am trying to focus only on things that are positive, fresh and alive.  These months of hurt and uncertainty have zapped me.  The tears that have flown freely are cleansing.

Today I focused on things that were healing.

My knees are a bit sore from far too many hours spent at my spinning wheel.  There was something calming and peaceful about pulling the long strands of alpaca roving through my fingers.  Feeling the silky softness as I taught my fingers yet again to hold the roving just firm enough.  To gently coax it into a single that will one day become a yarn.

Watching my beautiful Kromski wheel turn was hypnotic.  My mind was allowed to be still.  There was no need for thought, concentration wasn't required.  I had the blessing to just get lost in the thoughts that were rambling around. Too much... then simply focus on the spinning wheel until another thought came creeping in drifting in on the little wisps of roving that were floating around.

I took little breaks of an hour or two.  I made batches of soap.  One was tiny.  It's a a brine and rose clay soap.  A soleseife soap.  It only made  a single pound, 4 bars.  I am so intrigued by this soap.  I've never made one with salt before. It will be at least 4 weeks before I can try it.  I bought a mold that has the tree of life on it.  Hoping it was going to be big enough.  It was big enough, now we wait.

The other bar is Charcoal and Tea Tree oil.  I love the deep black color and tea tree is one of my favorite scents. It has the tea tree oil, tamanu oil and of course charcoal.  All of which is amazing and healing for your skin.  That batch will probably take 6 weeks to cure.  I can't wait to try it.

I'm working on learning patience.  Mine has been sorely tested.  I am finding my way back to center.

In and out I helped Hubs work on his birthday toilet. That just humors me.  Finding out what was wrong and attempting to fix it lead to the discovery that my scroll saw has a permanently damaged part and I can't order a replacement as it is no longer manufactured. And somewhere along the way we got rid of my first jigsaw.  Had to borrow a saw from the daughter. Only to not have that solution work.

Tomorrow we will start work on it again.  I think I am going to need a break from spinning. Neither of us believes in a no win scenario. In the midst of all of it, we are both shifting our thoughts and plans for the future.  Seems we both need a bit positive energy and direction to get us back on path to the future.

For now, I need to focus on where I am letting that energy flow.

Funneling it to things that fill my soul with happiness and light.

This healing journey is going to change me, I am sure of it, but the damage that got me here has changed me also...

dawn...

Coffee brewing.  Birds chirping. Perfect way to wake up today.

I'm getting ready to unplug for the day. 

Hubs is still sleeping soundly.  The boys aren't ready to get up and go for their morning walk yet.  Sitting in the silence, is like being wrapped in a big fluffy warm blanket in the middle of a storm.

I honestly feel sorry for people that have to be surrounded by modern noise just to feel... what is it that they need all of that noise for?  Comfort? Security? Companionship?  I'm not really sure. 

I don't understand, because I truly don't need it.  In fact for me it is overwhelming.  Exhausting. 

I love this time of the day.  When the world is still sleeping.  When you are blanketed by natural quiet.  The wind through branches that have not yet started to fill with flowers and leaves. Rustling their limbs against each other.  A muted scratching as they glance along the exterior of the house.  I woke up to the sound of rain drops hitting the roof.  Well not the roof, but the metal chimney cover. 

The distant rumble of the train making it's early morning run is overshadowing the wind that just picked up, the rustle of the trees and the sound of the bird songs.  Thankfully it will only last for a moment.

Soon the world will wake up.  Shake off their Saturday morning sleepiness.  It will get back to being a blur of activity. It will be so loud that you will not be able to hear the soft melody of the wind chimes swirling gently in the breeze.  I can't be the only one that struggles with the noise of everyday life. I wish there was a pause button.

Hubs and I have plans to go riding with friends today. I'm not so sure that Mother Nature concurs.  I haven't checked the weather forecast, I am simply looking out the window.  Listening to the rain.  We aren't riding until noon, we might not be riding at all.  It's the mid-west after all, five hours can take you from winter to summer, so we will wait and see.

I hope it clears up, I could use the ride.  The wind in my face the ability to get away and forget.  We are planning to ride a fairly busy route today.  Hubs wants to show his new friend some of the best local rides, he's new in town. I would love the ride if it wasn't so crowded.  It's beautiful. Straight along the mighty Mississippi. 

We didn't make it up to Grafton earlier this year to see the eagles.  I am sure there will still be some young ones soaring high above the bluffs, but nothing compares to the the skies above being filled with what seems like hundreds of eagles gracefully riding the air currents off the bluffs, watching the rippling currents of the Mississippi for their next tasty morsel of seafood or the fields for a nice fat rodent or bunny. 

I'm sorry I missed them. Like my Dad, I love watching eagles.  They are so beautiful.

I haven't checked to see the conditions on the roads to and from Grafton.  All this rain may have the river too high to take the ferry over to Brussels.  I don't think we've had too much to keep us out of Grafton, but far too often in the spring their roads become impassible.

I guess we will do that before we head up there.  It's not that far away, but it is far enough that if it's impassible it's definitely too far of a ride to go nowhere.

While Hubs and the boys are still sleeping, I think I am going to steal a bit of time to do some spinning.  The beautiful caramel color of this alpaca roving is sitting her taunting me.  I have enough spun to ply with the little bit of a previous single that needs a mate.  I'm just not ready to pull the bobbin.  I want to fill it first. I'm trying to spend some time each week, although I'd love it to be each day pulling the soft roving into yarn.  I have no idea what I want to make with the yarn when I finish.  No idea whatsoever.  If I can spin enough and it's soft enough, maybe it will become a cardigan to romp around in on cool spring and autumn days?  Or maybe something for Hubs.  I don't make him much... he has a few favorites, but mostly he feels the wool's are too bulky for him.

Maybe as we daydream about the perfect retirement locations I should throw a few northern locales into the mix?  He might love my woolen sweaters then. And the warm socks that I have made.

Well, the coffee has finished brewing.  And I do think I want a few minutes of roving time.  Later this weekend there will be floors and toilets to install, soaps to make, plans to create and food to cook.  But for a few quiet moments, the warmth of the coffee and the soft clicks of my spinning wheel reminding me to oil it are all I want to enjoy.

Find your peace today.  Don't wait for tomorrow...

overwhelming fear...

I'm not in a good place.

Sure I'm sleeping better.  I don't cry nearly as easily.

I am finding myself quick to panic.  I am stressed much more than is normal for me.  And I am dealing with serious, bone deep exhaustion.

Yesterday I was in a complete panic. Torn between being terrified and being angrier than I could comprehend.

Hubs was supposed to be home by 5 to walk the boys and get ready for us to go out together on the motorcycle.  He'd done the last part of his day commuting around on the bike and enjoying the beauty of the day. We'd agreed we would meet after I attended a memorial service for the sister of a long time staff member.

I'd called on the way out of the city.  Not feeling confident in where I was and wanting to let him know I was headed home. 

No answer. I assumed he was walking the boys.

I got stuck in traffic, as the funeral home was off of one of my least favorite highways. Called again to let him know I'd be a bit later. 

No answer...

More traffic, longer commute than planned, found another route, called to update...

No answer... it's over an hour since he was supposed to be home.

WHAT was going on??

I could feel the panic and bile raising.  I was trying to be calm.  Too much.  Simply too much.

Upon getting home and finding no Hubs, I walked the boys.  At this point I am torn between fear and anger.  One minute in a panic, not knowing where he is, the next angry, sure he's out riding.

About an hour and a half later I finally reached him.  I tried to listen, to hear where he was.  I couldn't hear anything. I lost it.  I know I was unreasonable.  The terror was killing me.  I ranted, raved and I am fairly sure I hung up. 

I know that I stormed through the house like a crazed woman.  Yelling at an invisible person.  Angry and relieved all at once. 

But I wasn't really angry.

I'd been terrified. The sweetest sight in the world was his pulling into the driveway. 

Your mind can play hideous tricks on you when it isn't up to par.  As I scrubbed dishes and counters, put away bath bombs and tidied up, I was trying to rationalize the thoughts.  Trying to come up with a reason, only to have my addled brain keep picturing him dead on the side of the road, run over by some distracted driver.  Frightened and longing to figure out which route he'd taken to which location.  Turning on the news to listen casually to hear of any accidents.

I did apologize.  I also asked him to call me when plans changed.  I realized that I am not in a good place and it takes very little for me to go from a normal human being to some crazed, wild woman that can cuss worse than a sailor.  I felt terrible.  It was not intentional.  It was simply more than I could rationalize. My fear that I had lost him too, was simply far too much for me.

It will be the start of the seventh week this weekend.  My ring is ordered, although Dad's ashes are still in my purse, close by me until I send them away for the ring.  It's coming up on his birthday and internment. The closer it gets the harder this is for me.

I'm still not in a good place.  I wonder if I ever will be.  There are many questions that are eating at my heart.  There are decisions that seem to be begging to be made. 

For the first time in a very long time I am questioning my path.

My choices.

I'm sure this is a part of the healing. 

Or is it the beginning of an awakening?

or flight...

I'm pretty sure I was channeling my Dad last night and this morning.

"damn squirrels, get out"

This weekend I decided to refill the bird feeder.  I'd stopped, the squirrels kept finding ways to get into the feeders and were making me incredibly angry. I got tired of finding ways to stop them.  I gave up. This weekend, I felt a strong need to fill those silly feeders.  I want to see the birds, hopefully the cardinals.

Dad loved feeding the birds.  It brought him great joy.  Except for those darn squirrels.

If you've followed my blog for any length of time, you know I don't hate squirrels and often share pictures of the little rascals. I just don't want them messing with my feeder.

I'm in a strange place.  My fight or flight emotions are overwhelming right now.

I really feel that very soon, I need a break.  I'm lost, I'm overwhelmed, I'm torn into pieces.  Part of me feels like I need to roll up my sleeves and slug it out.  I am definitely not a person that gives up and walks away.  A bigger part of me right now, is searching for my escape route.

Desperately!

I keep finding myself lost in day dreams.  Of far away places where my heart can heal.  I keep dreaming of getting rid of most everything and leaving.  Finding a spot where I can regroup.  Where there are no obligations, requirements, nothing that pulls me away from fixing this spot inside me that feels beat up, tattered and like a few pieces will never be found again.

A place far from humanity.  Maybe a quiet bit of land, with a small lake or even a stream/river.  Lots of trees and a place for a garden. I thrive in nature.  And this darn prolonged winter is killing me slowly.  Where the only sounds around me are the sounds of birds, wild life, a babbling brook, or the distant rumble of thunder as a spring storm moves in.

I've always maintained that I need four seasons.  Do I?  I keep hearing my Dad's voice in my head, I'm going to strap snow tires on the roof and head south, the first place they ask me what they are is where I am staying.  Starting to sound good.

I want the extent of my obligations to be tidying my house, cooking meals, working in the garden, taking care of my Hubs and the boys.  I want time to make soap, without squeezing it into the bits and pieces of my life that are left to me.  I want to quilt, spin wool, knit, sit on the porch and not see a soul outside of the people I've invited in.  I want to go back to canning my own veggies that I have grown myself.  Making my own breads and pastas. 

Do I want it?  Or do I need it?

As I watched the sunrise this morning, in all it's breathtaking splendor, the brilliant reds, yellows and oranges I felt lost. I felt a need to escape.

I should be rushing around getting ready for another day.  I have much to do, I always have much to do. I know that I am completely out of whack.

I'm at a point where fighting the good fight, seems like a lost cause. I am facing a failure that is eating my heart out. I've failed as a leader.

I have less than a week to somehow magically (because at this point that is what it feels like it will take - magic) raise the balance of our Annual Campaign dollars.  Just over $8819 remains.  I know the goal was high, but I felt that I had a great team, committed to success with me. I'm now swallowing the bitter pill that I might have been too optimistic well.  I'm not someone that accepts failure to meet goals with grace, I will push until the bitter end.  I don't like excuses and I really don't like people handing them to me in exchange for giving our all.  I'm struggling hard with this.

I feel like I've had enough losses this year. And I'm struggling with pulling up my big girl panties and taking it like a grown up.

Who set these rules? When did it stop being about living and start being about simply making a living?

Maybe that is what is fueling this flight response in me.  Maybe I have finally absorbed all that I can physically absorb. 

I'm surrounded by a chaos that I have no ability to control.  I am simply drifting along in a current that I cannot impact.  It is exhausting me.

I've been looking around my home and starting to determine what I don't need any longer, can I sell it?  Donate it? Throw it away.  What matters to me?  What doesn't.  Frankly, right now, not much matters.

Oddly, I slept amazing last night.  No tossing or turning, deep and restful. I still woke up feeling overwhelmed.  I am a leader, I need to lead my team with confidence and compassion.  Right now, I don't really feel like I can lead me with those skills.

I really do want to run away.  I want to be out in the silence.  No music, no television, no city noise.  I want to heal.  And I am finding that it is not something I can demand. Damn it. I am too much like my Dad in that aspect.  I have a strong urge to make things right and to do it on my time table.

And I can't.

I'm want to dance in the springtime sunshine.  I want to find my joy again.

I guess this is normal.  I don't know how to move forward.  I can't see my path right now and it kills me.

creating... healing...

I'm exhausted. 

I am seriously sitting here thinking about a nap.  My boys are both snoring in rhythm, and it is making my already heavy eyes even heavier. 

I am fairly sure I had a short night.  I don't really remember falling asleep, but I do remember it was well after 10 pm when we got home. I know that the sun was blazing through the window at 6 ish this morning. That equals not nearly enough sleep.

As a result, I am sitting here debating with myself. 

I doubt I will take one, I am one of those people that a nap is never a good thing.  Sure, at the moment it feels like it, but a few hours later as I go to curl up in my nice warm bed for the night, I will realize what a critical error I have made.

Hubs and I have been running errands, doing chores and I have been squeezing in time to create.

As I was packing the bath bombs into the molds, enjoying the sensation of pushing them into the spaces, almost like playing with sand and building castles as a kid, my mind was wandering.

I know that art is not as prevalent in schools these days.  It's a tragic loss if you ask me. I wonder how many schools have shop, home economics and humanities classes in this day and age.  The creating is centering.  It gives a feeling of accomplishment.  I am not sure it is something they can teach to the test on, so therefore, does it exist?  I know there are still music classes, as my grand daughter is in them.  But did the other classes go the way of cursive writing?  Or are they still there?

I would have loved to learn things like soap making in Home Ec, I didn't do so well with sewing class... ask the poor red turtle with his head on upside down.  Oh I made beautiful seams, but simple things like being able to put the head on correctly were lost on me. Truth of the matter, even though I had challenges in that class it wasn't the end of the game for me.

My cooking skills took over a decade to start to develop after hours upon hours of near failures.  All of which we were forced to eat, part of learning they claimed. Now when there is time I use those skills liberally, trying to make things just perfect for Hubs.

Shop class was another experience.  Learning to cut metal - somewhere I am sure that can opener still exists.  And the little nick knack shelf was still in perfect shape until Christmas of this year when I smashed my head into it while decorating the Christmas tree.  It's fixable, I just haven't tackled it yet.  The pain of breaking it after all these years is still to real. I was in 7th grade.  It has survived numerous moves around the world and always been in my room or homes, it's currently in pieces in the basement. I cherish knowing that I have the skill to  rebuild it.

The therapy I am gaining from losing myself in some of the "lost arts" is healing. 

The world still feels damaged and bruised.  Most of the time I don't want to participate.

Yet each time I start working on creating things, I feel a bit stronger, a bit more centered. 

The other night one of the B's and I went and painted.  Three hours of peace and focus.  Oh yeah, and wine. Was it frame worthy?  No not really.  But the concentration and patience drew me away from the things that were eating me alive.

I needed it. Their brushes frustrated me, I really needed mine from home, but it wasn't about perfection.  It was about healing.

So far today I have made bath bombs (I hope they turn out - I am skeptical) and shaving lather (again, I am dubious, but hopeful).  I'm excited to see how both of them have turned out. I bought kits, as I wasn't sure of my desire to purchase a ton of supplies if they were not something I enjoyed doing. If they turn out, I might continue making them in the future.

I have everything I need to make the Brine and Rose Clay soap and the Tea Tree and Charcoal soaps.  I am questioning the molds I got for the one soap, but feel pretty comfortable that I can change those. It won't change the soap, just the shape.  I wanted to get them made today, but the exhaustion made me doubt the wisdom.  I mean after all they both involve lye and being cognizant of my surroundings is a much wiser step.

Hubs and I started to install his birthday present.  Evidently, 66 is the year of porcelain.  Since we moved into the house the toilet in the man cave has wobbled, but we didn't know wh y.  Now we know.  They lowered the floor putting in the new laminate flooring.  The toilet cannot sit flush, as we pulled it up we discovered it was balanced on a few pieces of metal and a lot of caulk. We'd been toying with changing the flooring down there.  Something a bit nicer.  It appears we will be needing to do it after all, unless we want the new toilet to float above the floor also.

Both of us were far too tired to deal with it today, Hubs had work to do and I just didn't have the energy. So we will pick up the flooring next weekend, and spend some time on our hands and knees installing the floor (thankfully it is a small, tiny room) and putting in the toilet. Never a dull time here.

We are both keeping busy.  It helps.  The crafting and creating are helping to create a comfort zone for me.  Maybe it's the act of creating something useful?  Keeping my hands busy, keeping my heart calm.  I don't know.  Each tiny bit and piece feels like it is creating a web of strength. I still need it.

happy birthday...

The other morning it was creepy looking outside.  The sun hadn't quite decided to make an appearance, yet the sky was lightening.  It was cloudy, foggy, misty and still looking.

Then you walked outside.

It sounded like every bird in the trees is calling as loud as they can.  Screaming at their mates, telling their children not to do something, or maybe they are all simply trying to find that special someone.

The view out of the window looked like a frozen picture.  No movement, frozen in time.  A snapshot.  Actually an old snapshot.

Today on the other hand, after a week that has included snow, hail, sleet, torrential downpours and high winds among other things, it is a beautiful spring day.

Ah... the mid-west.

It's cold but there is no snow.  I'm going to consider it a bonus.

Today is Hubs birthday.  It cracks me up, for years he's been telling me he definitely feels his age.  What does age feel like?

Is it the little aches and pains?  If so, I might be 100... I don't really know what age feels like, I decided long ago that I was stronger than those silly things.

I know he's tired, I think this drawn out winter is wearing on him.  In fact I am pretty sure it is wearing on both of us.  When we start day dreaming of moving to a warmer climate.  Running away and finding a quite spot to rest and relax does sound tempting.

I know that sometimes life gets overwhelming and the escape seems welcome.  I know he'd like to retire, but that isn't something that can happen right now. Although we are starting to put together a plan for that future.  It seems more urgent since losing Dad.  There is a lot more questioning what in the world are we doing?  Are we working for a living or are we living to work? 

Both of us are worn out lately.  This year has taken it's toll.  Seems all we want to do is sleep.  I know that is a combination of depression and exhaustion.  I know it's a mix of all the emotions we are struggling to find our way through. 

I still haven't taken a moment. 

He hasn't really taken one either. 

Personally, I'm afraid to.

I'd rather hold on to being busy.  Learning the lessons that are bubbling up in my heart.  Putting family first.  Loving with sheer abandon.  Making time.

We spent the evening enjoying a fabulous meal with family.  Laughing at the grand babies, smiling at Hubs' jokes and silliness.  Sharing bites of everything.  Simply being.  We don't often do that these days.  We're both trying to learn the art of slowing down and savoring life.

Five weeks ago, I had hope and excitement in my heart.  I was sure that with faith my Dad would come home, the memories that were waiting to be made would happen. Five weeks ago tomorrow, the world shifted off it's axis.

Today my sweet Hubs turned 66, he's young.  My Dad was too.  I don't want to waste so much time.  I want to laugh, smile, create, enjoy.  I want to fully experience life, because as I have learned, all too fast that can change.

Tomorrow is time enough to make my soaps, to install's Hubs birthday present - because he's a goof and asked for a toilet. (WHO DOES THAT??)

What a day today has been... doing nothing "important", and everything IMPORTANT!

Enjoy your loved ones.  Celebrate the smallest things.  Life is far too short not to.

this journey...

It's Easter.  

This year Easter is a bit more poignant than years past. 

It will be four weeks since my Daddy went home.  It's hard. 

Hubs and I have been hanging out with Mom and a few of my sisters. We've shopped for Easter baskets, we've laughed and remembered.  We've shed tears and smiles.  

Dad's urn is beautiful.  Far prettier than it appears in pictures. It fits him.  Resting on the shelf behind his chair. 

I'd asked for a lock of his hair.  It's currently in my purse.  I'm finding an odd bit of comfort in it.  His soft, beautiful hair.  

I'm missing him. 

Hubs and I strolled with the boys yesterday morning.  Basking in the beautiful sunshine, admiring the beauty of early spring. Blossoms, buds and blessings. It was such a beautiful morning.  

We've had so much rain since Daddy left.  Only two days of sunshine, the gift did not go unnoticed. 

I could not sit in his chair.  I wanted to.  I really wanted to curl up in it and feel his love wrap around me like a blanket.  I couldn't do it.  Instead, I stood behind it, like I've done many times over the years, resting my head on the back, draping my arms over the top, longing to hug him one more time.  

As Mom and I put together baskets and gifts we chatted about the Easter's of our youth.  Where Dad would hide our baskets and eggs.  He delighted in making it as difficult as possible. The last of mine that I can remember was hidden in the vacuum cleaner bag in the closet.  I was a senior in high school. Oh he laughed.  I remember being cranky, after all I was too grown.  What I wouldn't give to search again.  Knowing he was smiling and laughing at me once again. 

Today was harder.  Today headed home again. 

Mom came over to do breakfast with us.  That was the extent of our Easter celebrations this year.  It feels like enough. 

I'm struggling with where I am personally still.  Torn between feeling like a selfish daughter that didn't make enough trips down, to knowing that of all people Dad understood.  He knew that even though money was tight we wanted to be here and would struggle to chat on the phone with us.  He understood even more when our careers were taking off and time was not a commodity that we had to spare. 

The drive home was fairly uneventful.  We were on a mission to beat the bad weather.  We did, sort of.  We were about 5 minutes from the house when the ice started coming down.  Yesterday it was almost 80 where we were and today it is 35 and dropping.  

Mother Nature has a twisted sense of humor. I keep waiting to see a sudden shift and a loud April Fool's sign appear.  Sadly, I think no. 

It hurt me worse than normal to leave Mom.  It's all still too fresh and new.  I absolutely do not ever want to move to Arkansas, yet, I wish those 6 hours that it takes to travel between there and here could be shorter. 

We've almost put everything away, but honestly we're both a bit tired and probably won't put it all away.  Not sure what dinner is going to be.  Traveling means I didn't plan a holiday dinner. Sadly, it just feels like the start of another week without Dad.  

I'm trying for normal.  

I'm just not sure what normal is. 

I signed up for a challenge.  20 minutes average of exercise a day.  I need the structure. 

I signed up for a painting class. I love the painting and want to make it.  I'm searching for creative outlets. 

I started spinning again.  I ordered more soap supplies. I finished one knitting project.  I need to finish a few of my projects.  

It was hard to finish the scarf, I'd spent so many hours working on it in the hospital with Dad.  It's a wrap really.  I need to block it, and while it was hard, it was also healing...

I am trying to find the parts of my life that are scattered. 

Tomorrow I will order my ring.  A beautiful bit of my Dad to carry with me. A bit of strength borrowed. 

I'm struggling to regroup. 

My sleep is disturbed.  I am feeling out of control.  My work goals aren't getting accomplished, for a myriad of reasons.  Mostly the leader being wonky is my best guess.  How do you lead a group when you are struggling to lead yourself?

I know this isn't forever.  It's the out of control factor that is making me crazy.  But I am trying.  This crazy weather is matching my own internal storm. 

I'm getting there.