Giving Thanks

Sometimes, being a writer with a global audience has it's temptations. Just lately, I've been biting my proverbial tongue so hard I've damn near bitten it off. I'm going to be grateful, dammit, even if it requires me to do the psychological equivalent of sticking my fingers in my ears and singing "La la la" as loudly as I can to muffle all other *sounds*.

There are things in life we don't choose. Sure, there's a faction of folks who are aggressively "positive" (It's a thing), who like to talk about how all things in life are a personal choice. I have theories about them that range from them being in total denial at least some of the time, to thinking maybe they've never really dealt with anything beyond the average, human-life kinds of stuff. Who knows? I see the value in the full range of human emotions, but obviously prefer to feel calm and happy, so I get the motivation here. Having said that, I come from an understanding that some of the most truly sh***y things that happen are the results of bullsh** actions taken by other people, or circumstances beyond our control in general. There's been an awful lot of the former going on lately, and it's forced me to make some choices about how to respond. That's something we always have control over: our own behavior. Sometimes I BARELY have control over that, but kudos to me for at least trying :-)

So what if my building manager wants to have my car towed (out of the parking space that I pay for) right before Thanksgiving because my registration is two weeks late? That's HER karma, not mine. (FYI, I just parked elsewhere until I can deal with it on Tuesday, neener, neener!)  I seethed and thought about it awhile, and considered that maybe it was worth a satisfying, politely-scathing email that cc'd her boss and sarcastically wished her a Happy Thanksgiving as well. Nope. Her Karma. I'll just deal with it Tuesday.

Annoying, sure. But it's the work drama has been the really sticky bit for me, and my real challenge in terms of disconnection. It's not even my *real* job, just my side hustle, but the dysfunction is hurting people I like. That makes it a little tougher to ignore. They re-hired an ex-employee who was a terrible employee on their first go-round, and who has an alarming criminal history. I'm very pro giving people second chances. We all screw up sometimes. But they didn't just hire this person back, they made them an assistant manager, giving this person some degree of power over their good and loyal employees who have put in the hours and done a good job. Does this person have any people skills whatsoever? Hell no. They have also chosen to speak badly of good people who have worked hard for them (which backfired, because literally everybody else knows the truth). They've lost good people already as a result of both of these situations. Is this my Karma? No, it is not. I know what happens next (I just watched a similar thing happen to another business. They lost all their qualified employees, had to shut their doors and have since declared bankruptcy. They are also under criminal investigation as we speak). But I care, so I want them to change course. I want to scream "YOUR BUSINESS IS YOUR EMPLOYEES, PRIORITIZE THEM!" from the top of my lungs, but to what end? Can I do anything about it? Nope, not a damned thing. What I can do is surround myself in an imaginary hamster ball of solitude, and go in, do my job, and leave. I will do that until the business collapses or until I can't do it anymore. And I'll cash my checks.

I know by now you're thinking "But where are the gratitudy parts? Where is the giving of thanks?" No worries, I'm getting there. I'm grateful that I can take a step back and not react (well, not react-ish. This post is arguably a reaction). Sometimes good things can come from a whole world of stupid. Who knows? Maybe I would have been given a big ticket on my way to the Thanksgiving festivities had my building manager not so kindly reminded me of my late registration. And in trying to distract myself from all the crazy at work, I found a way to finally tame the fire in my left butt cheek! (I have piriformis syndrome. It is literally a pain in the a**). I am calling that a major *good*. I was getting ready to sit on a tennis ball (again, some more) when I found this blog: Duncan Sports PT

So sometimes, things just work. Sometimes, there's peace in letting things go, and wisdom in knowing when that's appropriate. I've been doing it a lot lately. And I'm grateful that I know how and am able to. It's been a frequently repeated theme in my life, and I've had a lot of practice :-P

Moving on, I have a big turkey-day brouhaha to look forward to, family that I'm excited to see and an enormous pile of delicata squash to make into something yummy. Delicata is my FAVORITE squash, so I'm super stoked (Yeah, I have a favorite squash. It's not weird.) I have running to do, a posterior to rehab and Christmas crafting coming down the pike. I love this time of year, and it's that bigger picture that I'm choosing to embrace. The rest of it is out of my hands.

On that note, I wish you all a truly gluttonous, indulgent and awesome day filled with fun, good people and gratitude. I don't say it to my friends nearly enough, but I really do love you guys! Happy Thanksgiving!

Why I love Circles

Photo: www.rgbstock.com

When I first started this blog, my intention was to keep it light-hearted. I wanted it to be a place where I could focus on the fluffy side of life; I wanted to make it primarily about animals and silliness. It hasn't exactly worked out that way. See, the thing about being online, about being part of any online community, is that it has a fairly pronounced dark side. I get that we all know this, and it isn't exactly the latest news. But it's easy to get caught up, to get dragged away and to be distracted by all the noise. For me, the worst part has been finding out about some of the horrible things that people believe in, even people I know and love. The feelings fall somewhere between a helpless kind of melancholy, and the realization that something with teeth is standing next to your bed at 3:00AM. It is what it is. And apparently, we're all about labels these days. We're all about making assumptions about large groups of people based on speculation, about passing judgement, about forgetting there is a difference between opinion and fact. Propaganda is propaganda no matter the source. Wanting to believe something doesn't make it true, but people believe just the same.

People believe nonsense about others simply because someone told them to. A failure to distinguish between opinion and fact compounds the issue. It feels heavy. It feels like negotiating an unpredictable landscape where logic and compassion no longer mean a damned thing, and anger, prejudice and greed are acceptable.  Everybody is competing to see who has it the worst, and those who have it good feel fully entitled to exploit the desperation of others. It's so in my face every day, and it makes it hard to stay fluffy. Everybody is looking out for number one. I want to talk about what I believe, and why it makes the rest of it so difficult.

I won't deny the importance of the individual, but here's the deal: Each and every one of us is unique. We are all "different". Even so, unless you live alone in the middle of nowhere, build your own house, grow all your own food, make your own clothes, create your own energy, etc, you are connected to the rest of us. Our fates are inextricably bound. But it goes deeper than that.

The reason I love circles isn't just because I abhor straight lines and the sharpness of angles, but because they accurately depict our relationship with everything. Circles are inclusive. They are found in nature in a perfect state. They hold us all within them; they accurately reflect the reality of how even the smallest act can create a far-reaching ripple.

natamcancer.org

Taken spiritually, the idea of the sacred circle has been embraced by many, many cultures, and not for nothing. I'll focus on the Native American medicine wheel pictured above (items like this beautifully quilled medicine wheel are available by clicking the link under the image, and benefit Native American cancer research. A site which I'm not affiliated with in any way). While the symbol has been adopted by many tribes, I am most familiar with the Lakota understanding (my great gram was Sihasapa, though I didn't know much about her). Even so, there are still a lot of holes in my personal understanding to fill in, so please feel free to comment if I'm missing something.

I love this symbol. It is the epitome of inclusiveness. It doesn't just represent the connection of all people, but all of nature. Nature doesn't place humanity above anything else; we are all one in nature. It is only humanity that tries to see itself as above everything. It is seen in small ways, like assigning morality to feeding oneself (veganism for the sake of the animals, which is a fine thing to do but it implies immorality of all flesh-eaters; and being anti-farm gets extra silly when you have dogs and/or cats), or the need we have to assign human emotions and judgement to animals in order to describe how great they are ("my dog felt guilty when he dirtied the carpet", "my dog feels sorry for the abused animals on the TV","my dog is like a little person"). The truth is, every dog is a perfect dog. Every horse is a perfect horse. Every animal is perfectly and wonderfully it's own being, and not human. That doesn't make it any less, just different. The idea that 'not human' is less than us is so ingrained that we look for ourselves in everything to prove it is worthy. There's rarely ill-intent, but it's disrespectful just the same. I know I've said that before, but it can be really difficult to fully appreciate what the idea of inclusiveness means without acknowledging our human tendencies. Even so, we are perfect humans, all of us, and a natural part of the circle.

We, as humans, tend to make our spirituality separate too, as though it is something outside of ourselves.  But it is a part of nature too, and a natural part of everything. We argue and fight about the different ways we perceive our spirituality, and don't stop to realize that nobody has the whole story, and that we all do. It doesn't belong to anyone more than anyone else. Our divinity isn't dependent on our financial place in the world, it's part of who we are. It's the very energy of our beings. Before you think I've gone all religious, you need to know that my understanding of spirituality goes beyond religion (my religion is Catholic, which is neither here nor there for the moment). Even the greatest minds in history acknowledge the force of energy: The law of Conservation of energy is absolute, and says essentially that energy can neither be created or destroyed. Tesla has been quoted as saying “The day science begins to study non-physical phenomena, it will make more progress in one decade than in all the previous centuries of its existence.” That's for those of us who need a little logic with our spiritualism. Having said that, my personal experiences have shown me a reality that many people have to take on faith. I know life doesn't end, because I've seen it. We are energy, and that energy is in all things. In that most profound, fundamental and unequivocal way, we are all connected. We can embrace it and live through it and with it, or not. But real separation is impossible, and the desire unhealthy. The individual is best able to manifest and thrive when that natural connectedness is acknowledged, and even more importantly, respected. For the more religious among you, for whom the Bible holds the most sway (or the curious), follow this link to multiple Bible passages that offer more incentive yet to support this point of view.

The problem arises when we need to be reminded of our connectedness. When we convince ourselves so thoroughly of our own self-importance that we become unable to see the validity of anything but our own priorities and our own point of view. As humans, it's something we need be aware of. Our big brains can be wonderful things; they can allow us to be stewards of our world, they can help us connect with the divinity of all things. Or they can give us a false sense of superiority and infallibility. Most of our biggest issues today come from trying to impose artificial priorities (like the acquisition of money and things) on a natural world that doesn't share or acknowledge our contrived values. The further we get from our natural state, the sicker we get. "We" meaning all of us and all of nature. That is a fact, Jack. There are ways to make it work, but the imposition of money on everything has functioned like a sickness in and of itself. It makes us hateful, paranoid, greedy. In our desire for a sense of control, we oversimplify everything; we make things so black and white that we fail to see the myriad of solutions that fall somewhere in the middle. The middle has become a blind spot. You think we would have noticed by now that the desire for money and control does nothing at all to make us better people or to improve our circumstances. We think having more makes us better. We get covetous and paranoid about our resources. It's ugly and it's violent. We use our big brains to justify it. We forget why we are here and what we're really about. We lose our magic in persuit of the trivial and insignificant.

So, those are my thoughts. I haven't found a way to adequately shield myself from the awfulness that exists, or to not get caught in it myself. We are going through a period of time when it's financially beneficial to play on peoples' prejudices and to exploit the worst of human nature. Our conversations are nothing more than hatred, name-calling, divisiveness and blame. It's so bad that we can't even see what we are doing to each other and to ourselves. We've forgotten the connection. All we can do is try to remember, and do our best to stay out of the fray.

Rainy Day

Photo: newtopwallpapers.com

I woke up this morning to the sound of rain pounding against my bedroom window. I love that sound, even if it means I'll have to walk my dog in the rain. Since living here in town, I've been buffeted by the relentless sounds of traffic. An endless auditory assault. I've learned to always sleep with a fan on to minimize the impact, but it still drives me crazy. I miss falling asleep to the late-night serenade of crickets and frogs, taking turns as the season dictates. Sometimes a coy-dog or two would lend their voice to the concert, an impromptu solo, wistful and lonely. But these are the sounds I am used to, and they were a comfort.

The rain reminds me of that comfort. It belongs. It has always been here, and will be here long after I am gone. Elemental, necessary and right. It is part of what is supposed to be and what has always been. It makes me feel centered and calm, and quiets my mind. I know some who find it depressing, but I resonate with the vibration of the rain.

I put on my clothes to walk my dog, a sun-faded gimme-cap and a hoodie. I put on my sunglasses in spite of the rain, and pretend they render me invisible. I look a bit like the uni-bomber with my hat, glasses and hood, if he were ever to walk a large Doberman clad in a bright yellow raincoat. Dobermans hate the rain.

I like that my mind is able to function on days like this. The soothing, rhythmic sound speaks to my soul and dampens the anxiety. Water beads up on the leaves and grass and imbues them with a bright, inviting succulence. I remember hours spent laying in the grass as a child, studying each blade, and watching ants and rosebugs doing their thing. Sometimes I would catch a toad or a grasshopper and carry it around with me for awhile before releasing it back into it's grassy world. Today, earthworms lay across the sidewalk in my path for me to tiptoe around. I remember days and nights spent digging for worms. Coffee cans filled with dirt and worms, bait for fishing. I miss the world, my world. I miss having something to do on a sunny day, that feeling of ending the day dirty and exhausted and a little bit sunburned. I miss the well-earned golden streaks in my hair that came directly from the sun.

Someday. But for now, I have the rain. An old friend that stays with me no matter the circumstance, and surprises me with "hello" on mornings like this.

Nosebleed

Rhiannon riding in Arberth. From The Mabinogion

I woke up this morning and had a nosebleed. That's never a good sign. It usually means my blood pressure is high and so is my anxiety. Not a good start to the day, generally speaking, but not all anxiety is bad. We're moving forward, and doing so in a way I had hoped and thought that we would. Just because it isn't happening fast enough for me doesn't mean it isn't happening. That's something.

I woke up around 4:00 AM and couldn't get back to sleep. It doesn't happen often. Sleep is one of those physical functions that I can usually count on, and I am ever so grateful for that. But sometimes, like this morning, I wake up early and I can't shut my head off. This hasn't always been so pleasant. Sometimes I lay in the darkness, freaking out about the places I haven't been and the things I haven't done. I feel old and a little panicked. I hear the clock on my life ticking, I worry about years wasted not doing the things that I want to do. It's a helpless feeling, because it isn't about desire, imagination or motivation, but about resources. At times I have felt that I would spend the rest of my life struggling without ever really having the opportunity to live. But things are moving forward.

Once upon a time I felt like a cautionary tale to all the other good little Catholic boys and girls. "This is what happens when you don't do what you're told, don't do what you are supposed to do." You grow up, go to college, get a job that you hate and work long hours at it. Complaining is mandatory, and the more you have to complain about the better. Maybe you get married and have children. If you're a woman, you give up your own ambitions in favor of supporting those of your husband. Worse, it's expected of you. If you're lucky, there might be something in it for you. Maybe at the end of your life, when you've been worked to death and your mind is tired (or if you're a married woman, you've sublimated your own desires for so long you no longer remember what they were), if you've been very very good and squirreled away your nuts, you might get to do something you enjoy. From the time I was very young, none of that sounded at all appealing to me. NONE of it. In fact, when I was in Kindergarten and the teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said "retired". I didn't know it wasn't a thing I could be. I just knew that my grandparents did it, and though they were always busy, they seemed to really enjoy their lives. The other part of that was that my grandparents didn't have to go to school. As a child my greatest wish ever was that I would never have to go to school again, so even on that level, "retired" sounded like a pretty good deal.

And then you grow up. I tried to do things the 'right' way, I really did. It was awful. I didn't fit. I didn't fit in anything I did. Sure, I know how to toe a line, but it's exceptionally unnatural for me. It made me physically sick. I know how to be polite, how to sit calmly at a table with my napkin in my lap. I know how to sit up straight, and which utensils to use when. I can beat around the bush with the best of them too. Manners are cool. Everybody should learn some. But sometimes subtlety doesn't work. I didn't get that for awhile. For a long time I felt like the only thing I got right at all was having my daughter. If my only legacy is the decent human being I brought into the world then hey, that's something. Very nearly enough, really. But you know, I never got married, so judge away if you must.

Somewhere along the way I learned to be direct. Unladylike, perhaps (and at times VERY unladylike), but more me and more effective. It was the first inkling I had that maybe, just maybe, there was more than one way to get from A to B.

Have you ever dreamed that you were flying?  From the time I was little I used to have a recurring dream about flying. It was kind of funny, really. Everybody around me was flapping their arms and flying around successfully and happily. I would flap like crazy and never get more than a couple of feet off the ground. It never changed. Even as an adult, flap, flap, flap, nothing. Until a couple of years ago. It was the same dream, but this time I instinctively just raised my hands above my head like Superman, and off I went like a rocket. I know it was just a dream, but the message wasn't lost on me. The thing that had held me back was my belief that I had to do it like everybody else. It was just a stupid dream, but it changed everything.

I'm human. I care what people think. I don't care enough though, to change my priorities. I didn't get married. It wasn't because I failed, it was because I didn't want to. I work for myself. It isn't because I'm unemployable (in fact, I work happily with other open-minded, artistic folks with a shared goal), but because it's preferable to me. I've learned that sometimes, life is ugly and messy, and it's okay. It's okay to look at the mess and talk about the mess. The mess has far less power over you when you aren't trying to shove it aside like it never existed.  Sometimes, the mess is the lesson you need to learn before you are allowed to move on. You can't move on if you aren't willing to embrace all the things, messy, not messy.

These are the sorts of things I think about now when I wake up at 4:00 AM and can't get back to sleep. I look back on lessons instead of mistakes. My life hasn't been about rebellion and wrong turns, it been about moving in the right direction for me. I got something valuable from every experience in my life, even those that were the most difficult. There are things I never would have learned about human nature, or even my own nature (and capability and strength) without those experiences. All of it a means to an end. I may not be where I want to be yet, but I'm most definitely on my way. Knowing that makes for a much better 4:00 AM experience.

Stop the Bus

When life would get to a point somewhere past ridiculous, my friend Dawn (AKA "Donna") used to say "Stop the bus, I want to get off".  It was silly, but somehow, nothing was quite able to sum up that particular state of mind quite so well as that statement. It just fit. I am currently experiencing one of those days. I wish there was a bus to stop. Figuratively, anyway, the bus I'm currently riding feels like it's careening down some random embankment, driven by a zombie, and I'm its hapless, helpless passenger just trying to hang on until it comes to a stop. My greatest hope is that when it does, it's still upright. Ahh...there are few things I like better than getting overly dramatic about bad days, so if you don't have the stomach for that sort of thing, you may want to get off this particular bus now.

I don't know where my car is. My daughter took it to work last night, and both the car and kid are still AWOL. Some days, I don't even feel like I actually own a car, unless it's time to pay one of the many car-related expenses. I said "You can use my car for work" She heard "You may take over my car, and my need for it will always be secondary to whatever you have going on". This is totally my fault. I hate playing taxi SO MUCH that it was a relief. But it has now reached the point of sublime ridiculousness. I don't like bringing the thunder, but if I don't I'm going to explode. Badness. I just have to keep reminding myself that yes, I actually DO own a car. MY car. MINE.

Don't get me wrong, my daughter has been in touch. This morning, at 4:00 AM. Then again at 6:00 AM. Then again at 9:00 AM. Ask me how fabulously I get on when I haven't slept. To say I feel prickly today is an understatement (and what an adorable little euphemism prickly is). I have decided to remain in my apartment for the safety of others. Well, except when I have to take my dog out, which happens. I will do my level best to NOT unleash the tides of doom on whichever unfortunate neighbor I happen to encounter en route. No promises though.

Did I mention that today was also 'sprinkler-test' day? That means the the sprinkler company is here all morning, setting off the alarms over and over again at random intervals. If that noise isn't enough to do in that last nerve that I hope I have, my screaming Doberman might just do it. When the alarms go off, the dog screams. AWESOME. Dobermans are a big dog and most people will tell you that they have a big, booming bark to go with their large size. But, (and all Doberman owners are very aware of this) they also have what I call 'tea-kettle' mode. They have a high-pitched, piercing shriek in their arsenal of sounds that is simply not to be believed until you experience it personally. It almost has a paralyzing effect on the nervous system in some odd, apparently supernatural way. My preference would be to get in my car and maybe take the dog somewhere until they are done, but ya know, I don't know where my car is.

Today is also one of those days when the folks I need to hear from are not getting back to me, and the folks I DON'T need to hear from won't leave me alone (and somebody keeps leaving voicemail messages on my cell phone, which is kind of new, and I don't know how to retrieve the messages). It's not a super day for chit chat. Trust me, you are SUPER psyched that I'm not answering the phone ;-)


Okay, so here's the game-plan: I'm going to hole-up until the storm passes. I can do this. I know that with a little bit of something chocolate and maybe a mocha latte, this day need not be an utter crisis. I promise I will not call you today, and I will not call my Mom. Her nerves and my nerves have a similar intolerance for utter madness. And yes, you may laugh as I am sure to do myself in a day or two. Until next time!

Q&A

I can't believe it's been almost a year since my first book, "In Stone" was published. And what a wild year it's been! I am so beyond grateful for all the awesome folks who have gone out of their way to support me, all the folks who have read the book and all the kind words coming my way. Thank you, SO MUCH for putting out all that wonderful, positive energy! Not a day goes by when it's not appreciated.

I thought I would commemorate the book's almost-one-year anniversary by answering some of the most popular questions. I actually really like it when people ask questions, and I notice the same ones popping up with some frequency. I normally reserve this space for mind-wandery, whatever's-in-my-head stuff, but it seemed like a Q&A was long overdue. So here goes!

1) Why didn't you just leave?

This has got to be, far and away, THE most popular question I get. The short answer: We didn't have the resources, and we had nowhere to go.

The long answer is much more complex, however. I tried my best to provide some context here by highlighting how we grew up vs. where we suddenly found ourselves. When we rented the house, we were not in a great place emotionally or financially. I describe that time in my life as feeling like I had been pushed down a hill and I couldn't stop falling. Renting this house was supposed to be healing, and we desperately needed it to be. Letting go wasn't just financially impossible, but it was like an emotional last-straw that we didn't have. There was also a part of us that, in spite of what we were seeing with or own eyes, never could come to grips with the reality of what was happening to us.

2) When is the movie coming out?

Haha...the second most popular question! There has been some interest shown in making "In Stone" a movie, but I still don't know if or when it will happen. I wish I had a better answer, but this bit is out of my hands. I will definitely keep you all posted though!

3) I don't believe in ghosts.

Okay, not really a question, but for reasons I don't quite understand, total strangers have walked up to me and said this very thing. My response is usually "Okay...?" followed by me walking away confused. It doesn't matter to me who believes what. For me, it changes exactly nothing. Frankly, it's a little bit like a color-blind person walking up to me and saying "I don't believe in the color red".  Whether or not red exists isn't dependent on any individual belief. I've seen it, so I know it's real.  What would be foolish would be ME not believing in the color red. Am I making any sense? Wishing/hoping something isn't true doesn't make it so.

4) When you noticed things happening, why didn't you research the house?

I have had folks get REALLY angry about us not doing any research while we were living in the house. There were so many reasons for this! First of all, you have to keep in mind that this was rural Vermont in '97-'98. We had no computers, no cell phones and all the ghost-hunting programming was long into future yet. We didn't even have a cordless phone. Any contact information could only be found in the yellow pages, and since none of us had ever even heard the words 'paranormal investigation', we didn't look. If we had, we would not have found anything. It was a different time, a different place, and we were just normal people trying to go about our lives. On the very rare occasion that we summoned the bravery to say "our house is haunted", we were met with laughter and ridicule, which is exactly what one would have expected then. Also, we were TERRIFIED. We were in survival mode, and we innately felt that the more we acknowledged what was happening, the worse it would get. We didn't even talk about it with each other; our fear was that intense. Digging deeper was the LAST thing on our minds. We were just getting through the day. Most people who have lived in a genuinely haunted house totally get it, and for that I have been grateful.

I DID do some research when I wrote the book. What I learned is that it's really difficult to find anything relevant, BUT the Hinesburg Historical Society was able to provide me with some juicy historical tidbits that are included at the end of the book.

5) Are you Catholic?

This is one I get a lot but I don't really understand why. I am, but it didn't seem to have any bearing whatsoever on our experience. Maybe folks ask because Catholics believe in exorcisms, but since none was ever performed (or even considered/discussed), I guess I'm not really clear on the relevance.

6) Are you writing another book? And will it be paranormal?

That would be a 'yes' and a 'yes' :-) The next book is going to be a fictional story built around true accounts. It's been slow going because "In Stone" continues to pull focus (a "problem" I'm happy to have!) but I'm having a blast! There's something exceptionally liberating about writing fiction. "In Stone" was a true account and it involved so many people that I really had to keep things truthful and above board. Those who were there said I did so successfully, so YAY! But book two is just between my characters and me, and it's a much simpler path in many ways.

I would be happy to answer more question if you have any, so don't hesitate! If you're local, I will be at the Milton Public Library on Monday night at 6:30, so I hope to see you there!

So much LOVE AND GRATITUDE!!!!!!

The New Normal

Photo: weknowmemes.com

Let me tell you a story. It's sort of what I do. I don't make any promises about it's entertainment value, but here goes nothing just the same. Okay, I'm going to make a confession: It's 11:30 AM, and I'm a little (just a little), um, tipsy. I don't drink. Like, ever. I get high on life and the weird sort of awesome of other people and I don't want to miss a single second of any of that. Ergo, I stick to non-alcoholic beverages. But this morning, at a most crucial, time sensitive moment, my printer died. Okay, lame as AM drinking excuses go, but for today it will suffice. In the big scheme of things it's not such a big deal. Yes, there is a bunch of time-sensitive stuff that needs tending to fairly immediately, but what they hell. As my Mom would point out, as long as I can still move my arms and legs all is right and good with the world. I'm doing that right now just to prove to myself that I can and it is, indeed, the sh**. Who needs a printer when you can just get down with your bad self, right?

Oh, but I promised a story. Once upon a time there was a writer who very badly wanted to make her living doing what she loved to do. It seemed quite far fetched; very few are fortunate to be in such a position. But wait...is that really true? I mean, if you WANT to do something badly enough, can't you just DO it? Are we not only limited by our imagination and the strength of our will? Or is that Green Lantern? I forget. Either way, it works for us mere mortals as well. Or so it would seem. So once upon a time I was stressing about car repairs, a roof, food. Yes, boys and girls, sometimes even food was a scarcity in a past so recent I prefer not to think of it. And while I'm not exactly out of the woods yet, I can feel the tenacious tendrils of scarcity losing their grip and getting ready to fall away while I keep my eyes trained steadily (albeit a bit blurrily, currently) forward in my characteristically stubborn way.

So, YES my printer failed me at a crucial moment. YES I need it for some TV related stuff. The point is I NEED IT FOR TV RELATED STUFF. It is a new problem, and one that is indicative of my impending freedom, tangible proof of accomplishment. Even better, I am getting paid to do what I love. Holy Sh**, when did that happen?!

So go ahead Mr. Printer. Do your temperamental thang. You can't throw a damned thing at me that I haven't already survived, for you are merely a tool. Yes, I called you a TOOL. Don't worry, I still love you. I'm just annoyed. And I plan on having a spectacular day just the same!

FIN

The Cult of Newer is Better

Photo: wallpapers.fansshare.com

Some days I feel old. I know I'm not, really, but things can change rapidly. Some things that went away come back again. It feels like I'm constantly dealing with some update or another with my electronics. You know, the ever-shifting landscape of the average, first-world Joe's life. I'm not that old, but in many ways the world is a completely different place from the one I grew up in and was prepared for.

Okay, let me be clear; I am very much like Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory. I don't handle change well, I love my routines, I'm socially awkward and I have a 'spot'. While I look forward to happy changes, the unhappy ones (or even the neutral ones) are generally devastating and send me reeling for some time.  Hell, even happy changes that I've sought out and pursued can take a long time to assimilate and accept. Having said that, I think I do okay. I like new information, I love to learn new things and I love to study the hell out of the things that interest me. New information is brain-fodder; it keeps the flames of intellect extra flamey (which is sorely needed) and sometimes new IS better. Having said that, I know all too well how fads and trends come and go, so I try to apply common sense and a bit of objectivity to all new endeavors. I think the older you get, the more this approach makes sense. Unfortunately, you can't really apply this to electronics.

One example of things that have changed a lot for the better is dog training. There was the popularity of the Koehler method, then we had The Woodhouse Way, and of course, we cannot forget the Monks of New Skete. Each one of these systems had strong advocates (some still do), a closed-minded adherence to method over all and almost a cult following (sound familiar?). Each was based on experience and learning theory. Things changed for dogs when John Fisher came along. To this day, if I could be said to have a dog-training guru, it would be this fellow. He was the first one who said "Hey, wouldn't this work better if we tried to understand what motivates dogs and tried to understand them a little better?" The first dog-training book I ever bought was "Think Dog" and it was awesome :-) He introduced the reader to pack theory, the idea of positively-motivated behavior change, how food/nutrition can influence dog behavior (he advocated Eucanuba), and how a dog's behavior could be positively influenced by the right combination of Bach flower remedies. And he was the SHIZIT. I'm not saying that with sarcasm either (in spite of the fact that most of what's on the aforementioned list is largely irrelevant now), he really was the best. I even still have a set of Throwing disks. When Mech recanted everything we knew about pack theory, Mr. Fisher didn't just go away with his tail between his legs. He did what no well-known dog trainer has ever done before or since: He admitted he was wrong, dug into the research some more, and came away smarter and better for it (and WE benefited greatly for it too, as did our dogs). These days, the owner gets blamed, the dog gets blamed, EVERYTHING but the method gets blamed. 'Cause, science (and everybody knows we've never applied science to animal behavior until just now, of course). Speaking of, I think it would be interesting to do a study to determine how many systems involving living creatures of ANY kind are actually infallible. I'm guessing not many. It's a sad commentary on egotism, but highlights what a special sort of man John Fisher was. Mr. Fisher was more interested in the dog in front of him than in promoting a specific protocol, and for that he will always have my respect (even though he passed away some time ago). Most importantly, he changed the system for the better, and then he changed it again. I'm noticing a cultish sort of trend occurring around training theory again, but I've been around long enough to understand how this works.

Speaking of things coming around again...so, rope halters for horses! Yup, they made the rounds in the 70's. I even remember seeing the ads in the old magazines. They were touted as being "the cool and lightweight alternative". They fell out of favor because they were kind of dangerous and irritating to the horse's face. Now they're back, and they have knots. We put them on, connect a heavy rope, and then SHAKE the rope to get the horse to...I'm not sure what. Then we call it natural.  This is one of those things that falls into the category of "things Kristel doesn't know enough about to speak from an educated viewpoint", so I can only opine based on observation. Is Natural Horsemanship a humane alternative to 'cowboy breaking'? To tying a horse to a sturdy post and flogging it until it gives in? Saddling it up and riding it until it stops fighting? Ah, yeah. I think that goes without saying. But as an alternative to a centuries-old system that always put the feelings of the horse first, always left the horse's temperament and personality intact and never put the horse at risk of physical or psychological damage? Not so much. There are hacks in all systems, and lots of different ways to get the job done. I guess my point here was "Hey, rope halters are back? Didn't we already decide we didn't like those? Maybe we forgot. Part of getting old is that we forget a lot of things, then somebody repackages it and markets it as something new and we get all excited again. C'est la vie.

What set off this mini-tantrum? You're going to laugh. Seriously. It's simple: My computer updated itself. It does it a lot, it does so without my permission, and every time it does it I just want it to go back to the way it was. Sometimes, new is better. I know this, as highlighted above. Sometimes, it's complicated as hell, and new for the sake of new is crazy-making. Sure, I took a computer course in college. It was MS Dos. How many of you even know what means? I don't know what that means. My I-pod is now obsolete and I can't play Dragonvale anymore. Do you know how upsetting that is? No, you probably don't. You probably have new ipods, or ipads, or you don't give a rat's furry bottom about dragons. I miss my dragons. The solution is to get a new device (which is totally what they intend!!!) but then I have to learn how to use it. It reminds me of the time I found my mother sitting on her couch in a quiet house, staring at a basket full of remote controls that was sitting in her lap. When i asked her what was wrong (she looked mildly distraught), her response was "I just want to watch channel 3, and I don't know how". I know how you feel, Mom. I'm right there with you. I know the demoralizing pain of having to ask my child to sort out my electronics. It shouldn't have to be that way. As fun, innovating and interesting as new information and new things can be, they are much easier to take when I seek them out. They are far less appreciated when they are thrust upon me.

Home

Photo: www.simplypsychology.org

Things have been pretty righteous lately. It's sort of proving the rule that where you look, you're likely to end up. Fortunately for me, the last few years have been fueled largely by a disproportionately ambitious set of expectations. And you know, things seem to be headed pretty much in the direction I had envisioned. Who knew? All this time I thought I was being realistic, when it turns out that it's UNREALISTIC goals that get the job done. Cool beans.

So what's it really all about? For me the thing I want most is home. I always thought my sister and I would be old ladies together, living in quaint, adjacent houses, planting gardens, having horses and sitting on the front porch shelling peas (which for some reason I can't quite remember I've always called "hucking") while gossiping without malice about the goings on in our universe. Interestingly enough, my sister wants that too. It's a life we were once able to take for granted (well, not the 'old' part so much), and neither of us has ever really felt at home since. The irony? We tried it once, and failed miserably due to unforeseen (and ghostly) circumstances. I wrote a book about this utter failure, and it may just be the proceeds from this book that gives us the opportunity to try again. Karma is a funny thing. Okay, sometimes Karma is funny in a way that's NOT so funny, but sometimes it has a twisted sense of humor that is legitimately laughable.

If anybody in this world deserves to have some good home-related Karma come their way, it's my sister and me. After we lost our original home, it has been one series of crazy events after another re: our housing. We have been through ghosts, ice storms, flooding out, rats, mice running over the silverware, irresponsible/uncooperative/unpredictable exes, flaky roommates, a tornado, people simply changing their minds about renting, near-misses around home ownership, homelessness (yes, twice), irrational land-people (I had one fellow tell me I couldn't have boys over. I was in my 20s), insane rules followed out of desperation, and generally a constant and unwavering sense of threat in one form or another around housing. Oh, and let me make clear that this was all due to no fault of ours.

If you will refer to the little chart above, you will see that shelter is relatively important, especially if you'd like to do something with your life besides worry about shelter. And hey, I don't know about you, but I totally would!! And it's looking like the day when having some real choice around this issue might be sooner than I originally anticipated. So what does home look like?

Well, first of all, see above re: old ladies hucking peas. That's part of it. Gardens, land, horses...that's part of it too. But what home really feels like is a place to call mine, to finally put down my roots again. Home means not being at the mercy of others for your most basic of needs, not ever having to worry or wonder if/when the rug will be ripped out from under you. That last is really hard to describe to those who haven't experienced it, but is perhaps the most compelling.

Home is a fenced yard for my dog, a porch to sit on and watch the rain, the smell of flowers and freshly-mowed grass. It's a sense of belonging that can't be threatened. It's everything.

Time Travel

Photo: www.electronicproducts.com

Okay, I haven't really traveled through time (except forward, obviously), but it's felt a bit like I have. I had a book signing last weekend. It was awesome, but as many of you know it's a book about a past experience, and I discussed it at length. Truth be told, it was pretty cool and the folks who showed up were pretty great. Interestingly enough, The book is doing really well. Well enough that I can look into my future with hope, and have to do some financial maneuvering in order to assimilate my shiny new income without wreaking any havoc on my overall financial...stuff (for lack of a better word).

Of course the past is gone, and the future is yet to come, which means it is still the present which can be the most troublesome. So I have one leg in the past, one in the future and one in the present. I'm no math whiz, but I'm pretty darned good at biology and I know three legs are just not normal. No wonder I'm tired. It is what it is, and all the great stuff that's going on keeps me buoyed and optimistic most days. I'm uber grateful for that, and for the surprising (and kind of wonderful) amount of support I have been getting. Some days, the gratitude is overwhelming in an awesome way that is entirely new to me.

Having said that, I have been dealing with something unbelievably frustrating and dehumanizing the last few weeks. I won't go into it because it's all solved now and the "what" is less relevant than the effect it had on me. I've felt like I was in a nightmare where I was screaming for help but nobody could hear me. For weeks. I'm happy for the insight the situation provided to me: it gave me some clarity around where I would someday like to put some of my energy in the interest of helping to make the world a better place. Nobody should have to deal with what I've gone through the last few  weeks. And make no mistake; I am an assertive person who has no trouble at all advocating for myself or persisting until a problem is solved (if that weren't the case, the problem STILL wouldn't be dealt with). I am actually tenacious as hell. Not everybody is, and some people could sorely benefit from somebody advocating for them. There needs to be something in place for that purpose. Something to think about.

I'm grateful it's over and grateful for the insight provided, but it has still left me feeling, oh, I don't know. I guess the best way to put it is injured on a psychic and psychological level. I'm exhausted and it feels a bit like there's still a hole in my soul. How very dramatic, lol, but I know some of you will know what I mean. Essentially, I've had the psychological sh** kicked out of me, and it left a mark. I had a boss many years ago that created that sort of feeling, like a psychic vampire who made me face every workday with a dread so intense it caused physical symptoms. Yeah, like that.

Anyhoo, the point is to heal, I suppose. It would be much easier if the winter would relent and I could spend more quality time outside. I'm kind of an "outdoor kitty" and the long confinement of winter can really make me feel a lot more vulnerable to the shenanigans of the way of the world. My natural springiness is a bit compromised, and that means I'm internalizing more. Scary thought! It's getting better though. I have work, and walking a little close to the dark side certainly helps that, lol. I also have prayer, chocolate and Rescue Remedy, a fairly infallible combination :-)

To those of you who have ever felt like I have these last few weeks, who have ever felt like nobody could hear them screaming for help, don't resign yourself to taking it. Never do that. You're worth fighting for, so do it! Remember, if people treat you like crap, it isn't because you ARE crap, it's because they don't know how to treat people. Feel bad for them, and hope that they learn what they need to so they can become decent folks.

On that overly dramatic and emotional note (I really resent it when I feel compelled to emote. I'm an Aquarius, dammit!) I will leave you with a bit of shameless self-promotion in the form of a shiny new updated book trailer :-)

The REAL Zombie Apocalypse

The calm before the storm...

I spend a lot of time people-watching. I don't mean in a creepy, voyeuristic sort of way, but just observy.  I am my daughter's ride to and from work so I spend an inordinate amount of time just sitting in my car and waiting. I pass the time by listening to the radio and watching folks to-ing and fro-ing about their lives. This time of year, I am struck by the large number of people who accessorize their cute, woolen hats and puffy coats with incredibly sour faces. I get it, I really do. The frost sets into my bones right about this time of year and doesn't fully thaw until sometime around mid-May or so despite my best efforts to keep warm. I've lived in Vermont my whole life (except for three years I spent in Maine) so you'd think I'd be acclimated by now. Oh, I suppose I am. But 'acclimated' and 'happily adapted' are two very different vibes. Mostly, I suck it up and deal, just like the folks I watch on an almost daily basis.

Early mornings are the most entertaining time. Many people have yet to imbibe their morning caffeine and the combination of lack of coffee AND puffy clothes is pretty amusing. The usual winter shuffle is accentuated significantly when folks are still half asleep. These slow, lurching and only half-aware folks that I see on a regular basis have given rise to a theory: The zombie apocalypse will not be brought about by reanimated corpses, but by bundled-up, pre-coffee Northerners on their way to Starbucks.

Imagine if you will, the frozen North if not a cup of Joe (not even at Starbucks!) were to be found. It would be disastrous, the casualties immense. It would start at local Starbucks locations, but it would spread from there as even the (usually very caffeinated) baristas join in the desperate, lurching mob. The words "coffee", "tea" and "latte" would be grunted repeatedly with ever-decreasing enunciation as the now mindless hoard overtakes the city. Those few who had stockpiled their coffee and were therefore coherent run screaming in confusion as the slow but relentless mob continues on their tenacious course to find the one thing that sustains them...a cup of coffee. I can picture the scene: Glass breaks as Abercrombie and Hollister employees (who subsist almost entirely on Starbucks) break free from their respective pods and join the lurching mob.

Where will it end? It could end several ways I suppose. The best case scenario is that someone, somewhere is able to provide these "zombies" with their much-needed caffeine before too much damage is done. But the most likely conclusion is all manner of mayhem and shenanigans occur causing much damage and destruction, and then everyone falls asleep because they didn't have their coffee.

My daughter really needs her own car.

Wednesday

Photo: www.the-scorpions.com

It's a weird and wacky Wednesday. I woke up early to bring my daughter to work and subsequently opted to mess around on Youtube for a bit until the sun could come up and I could fully engage my sleep-addled brain. I sleep like a stone most nights and last night was no exception. It's the one time of day when my anxiety can't touch me, and I invariably conk out shortly after my head hits the pillow. I feel blessed in this regard, but it means I'm a bit slow to wake up. Lots of coffee and some good music usually does the trick, though.

You may or may not know about my "dinosaur" status, but many of you know that I love me some 80s "hair bands". Yup, I'm a former leather-clad groupie from way back, half-deaf from standing too close to too many speakers, and a permanently-creaky neck from too much head-banging. My big hair was DA BOMB :-) One of my favorite bands in general was/is the Scorpions. Say what you will about these guys, but they 'do' good music. One of my all-time favorite songs is "Wind of Change". I love it for many reasons, not the least of which is the memories it brings back to me. Those I won't share, but I WILL share the song with you guys via my mad new video-embedding skills. Happy Humpday!!!!!

Facetubeinstatwit#$%-what?!

Photo: www.theguardian.com

I don't usually feel old or outdated. My daughter would happily tell you I'm like a dinosaur, but from a personal perspective I don't feel much different than I did when I was twenty. With one exception: All the tech-stuff baffles me.

Let's be clear here; I am a reasonably intelligent person who is capable of learning new skills and integrating them into my life. The fact that I have this blog that I almost know how to use correctly AND I'm accessing it through a computer I sort of can make work is proof of that. But it isn't easy for me, or comfortable. And now I'm really trying to utilize social media to promote my book, and it's creating quite a stir within my psyche. I feel like I'm trying to learn a new language, and in a way that's almost exactly what I'm doing. Historically, my language-learning hasn't gone so well. I used to know a fair bit of French (of the Canadian variety. I grew up on the border.) but forgot most of what I knew just by moving a couple of hours south and never hearing/using it. I tried to learn Russian for a minute, but couldn't retain any type of motivation so I put it aside and didn't go back to it. Not the most excellent track record. But this "new language" is about marketing and survival in a technological world. It's a language that the kids innately know, and when new things crop up they assimilate them at an astounding rate. I may not feel like a dinosaur, but I suppose in some ways that I am.

To be fair, I grew up in a very different environment. I was born in 1969, I was a child in the 70's, a teenager in the 80's. I also grew up in a small town in rural Vermont, so however behind the times were, my part of the world was even more so. I remember being really stoked because we had a color TV with three channels. I remember how awesome it was to have our own, private phone line (vs a party line). I remember telephones with dials, the long, twisted cord that held the receiver to the body of the phone (which was screwed into the wall.) and fighting over it because there was only one in the house. There was no such thing as an answering machine. People were home to answer or they weren't. There was no call waiting, just a busy signal. I remember in the 80's when VCR's first came out. The idea of being able to watch a movie in your own home was mindblowing. You could rent a VCR with your evening movies. They were really expensive so very few households had their own. There was also something called "Beta" that was like a smaller VCR tape, but they didn't last long. I remember playing "Pong" and "Pac-man" on my uber-modern Atari video game. The first portable phones were enormous car-phones that only the very important and the very wealthy had. They were sort of a status symbol, and I only ever saw them on TV. They were big, blocky things with antennas. When I was older and took my first computer course, the discs were actually floppy and what we were learning was MS DOS. I'm telling you, the world was an entirely different place.

It was sort of a trade off I suppose. I miss people actually looking into each others faces when they talk. Now, everybody always walks with their heads down because they are looking at their phones. Manners and people-skills have completely disappeared. THAT feels like a real loss. Nobody really connects anymore, but I've kind of gone off on a tangent I hadn't intended to go on.

Connecting in today's world means being proficient with all the social-media options available. And it's not enough to be proficient with just one. You have to be able to navigate most of them, AND make them talk to each other to reach the maximum number of people. YEAH for how small the world has become as a result of all the new ways there are to connect, but woe to those of us who struggle with the logistics! I think I sort of did it though. I figured out how to post this blog on Twitter and have it automatically post on my fan page on Facebook. I like the fan page idea, because it gives me a place for my shameless self-promotion without bombarding my friends who may not give a rat's furry behind about my book. Cool Beans :-) But I realize that the small bit that I've managed is just that; the tip of the iceberg. There is much left for me to tackle, and I feel like a tyrannosaur trying to do it with my ineffective, tiny arms.

 Don't worry about me though. I'll figure it out :-)

Focus

Photo: diabetes.niddk.nih.gov

You may have noticed that I changed up the blog a bit. No worries, I'm not going rogue and getting all serious. I've decided though, that I should probably focus on making the lighter side more consistently lighter. I may have mentioned that I'm doing this thing around creating a public persona (which, unfortunately, is likely to be much like my private persona, but RIGHT OUT THERE). That's all well and good, but I'm realizing that I can't suddenly pretend I'm all businessy and pulled together. For one thing, I could never pull off such a monumental fallacy, for another, I suspect I would seriously strain something if I tried.

The truth is, I'm kind of a train wreck, and furthermore, I'm kind of okay with it. I may fantasize about being as creative and pulled together as Martha Stuart, as brilliant as Stephen King with all the innate kindness and ability with animals of St. Francis of Assisi, but...not so much. The cucumbers in my garden grew in corkscrew shapes to squeeze between the weeds, I can't grow a pea to save my life, my greatest culinary accomplishments usually involve following directions on a box and remembering to remove plastic wrap from things BEFORE they go in the oven. Stephen King I am not, and my patience and tolerance is...variable. The closest I come to sainthood DOES involve animals, but as accomplished as I am in that regard, I have still been dragged down an icy sidewalk on my belly by an enthusiastic Doberman, and I have started a ride on a horse only to end it in a pucker brush. My favorite clothes are my pajamas and my most beat up T-shirts. My favorite music is 80's hair bands. I read EVERYTHING from "Gray's Anatomy" (yes, it's a book) to "The Dirtiest Toilet Humor Book Ever". I love watching nature documentaries and sometimes I cry when animals get eaten. Nobody's perfect. But fortunately, you don't have to be perfect to be your own kind of awesome, and that's sort of what I'm counting on. Really, really counting on.

So, will there still be rants about irresponsible dog owners? Posts about dogs and horses? The occasional, long-winded, meandering and pensive brain-dump? Um, probably, yeah. But I do promise to work very hard at keeping my content more light-hearted while remaining honest.

Thank you, and stay tuned!

The Darker Side!

Photo: Taylor Baranova

I set up this blog with the intention of having an outlet for my 'lighter' thoughts and ideas. For the most part, the meandering and varied topics have provided just that. While it's true that other appropriate names for this blog might have been "Verbal Incontinence" or "Proof That I Need Editing", I have been very pleased by the number of folks who have read my posts. Whether you read my blog because you find it interesting, or because you find it relateable, or even because it's like a train wreck you can't look away from, I appreciate you. THANK YOU for the continued support:-)

If there is a lighter side, then a darker (edited!) side must exist, right? And so it does: In Stone , my first book, is now available! Here is a taste:

"The house looked innocent enough. There was nothing to distinguish it from any other quaint, older home nestled within the rural Vermont landscape. For Liz, Charlie, Donna and Willa it was a dream come true; exactly what they needed. Each of them had escaped hardship longing for the comforts of loved ones, hearth and home. The spacious house, the location and the timing all seemed so perfect. But none of them could imagine the horrors that awaited them as the house revealed its secrets. "

Yes, it's finally an honest-to-gosh 'thing'. To all those who regularly witnessed me skulking about in my dinosaur pajamas while talking to myself and gripping a cup of coffee like it was my last friend on earth, there really was a point to it all :-) And now, it's time to knuckle down again and write another one.

I can't tell you much about the next one, just that it was inspired by a nightmare...

Equilibrium

I'm realizing that it doesn't take much to throw me wildly off my game. I am a creature of routines, and anything that veers off course from the norm has a serious "ooh, shiney!" effect on me that it's difficult to recover from. It's been a couple of months since my car and computer bit the dust, and I'm still reeling from the experience. My car is up and running again, better than before, so that's all right, and a huge weight off my shoulders. My computer though, well, that's a different story.

My daughter generously (if a bit fearfully) allows me to use her laptop. I am uber-grateful for the use of the laptop, but it still feels like trying to make a meal in someone else's kitchen or trying to sleep in a strange bed...it's wicked awkward. My files and programs are notably absent and I'm not super sure about how anything is organized. I just can't get comfortable. Comfy enough to write this blog, perhaps. Comfy enough to re-re-re-edit my book so I can move forward on the damned thing, not so much. Certainly, there are things I can be doing, but my brain derails me. I think "well, I could do that interview" or "I could explore that publishing avenue" but the next logical step always involves having access to the book, which I don't. I feel like I will be stopped dead in my tracks (mentally-BAD brain) until I can put my hands on the subject of my focus. I suppose it makes sense to be frustrated by my inability to make progress on a project I don't have access to, but the more time goes by, the louder my internal clock ticks and the more aware I am of time being wasted.

Don't get me wrong. A waste of time isn't always really a waste. Sometimes 'think time' is the most important time of all. I had to learn that the hard way. Sometimes external action is nothing more than the mechanical manifestation of lots and lots internal work. And hey, that's cool. But right now I AM wasting time. I am idling in park, sitting in limbo, twiddling my thumbs and rattling around my space like a singular pea in a multi-pea pod, and waiting. Unfortunately, the downside of being a thinky-person is that my brain is voracious. If I don't give it lots to do and feed it well, it starts to cannibalize itself. Soon, I fear, I will find myself staring at a wall and drooling. Or maybe it's just because it's February:-)

On the upside, the hard drive is ALIVE (thanks to my talented and computer-savvy step dad). I could have lost the whole works, but I didn't. That alone is worthy of celebration. But there is still something wrong with my computer. If you read my blog you know that I am literally plagued with computer problems, I've lost large sections of the book on two occasions and I can't seem to keep things doing what they are supposed to do long enough for me to make much headway at any given time. Ergo, my daughter's understandable trepidation in allowing me to use her laptop. I see her watching me furtively from the corner of her eye while she prays that whatever computer-killing curse I possess remains directed at only my machines. But I digress:-) (is that possible considering the meandering nature of this particular rumination?)

But it will be okay. Things work out in the end, sometimes better than expected. I just need to find a productive way to utilize my time until it's all sorted out. Till next time...

The Dark Side of the Lighter Side

It's raining outside. I like a day like this once in awhile. Rainy days give me the excuse I need to hunker indoors and get indoor things done. I'm probably one of the few people who looks outside in the morning, and upon seeing rain says "Oh cool!" Rain means a lazy day for me. I realize that whether or not I have a lazy day is entirely up to me, so perhaps I should be more clear: rain means a justified lazy day.

If it's nice and sunny outdoors, I feel compelled to be out in it. I was raised to be an "outdoor kitty", to spend as much time as possible taking full advantage of every bit of sun. We would swim, ride our horses, work in the garden, dig for worms, read in the grass or just sun ourselves until the sun started to go down. Almost every summertime memory that I have is of being outdoors. To this day, I have a really difficult time relaxing indoors when it's sunny. I don't have many of my former outdoor activities to keep me busy any more, but I spend time with my dog and walk until my feet are killing me (plantar fasciitis sucks). To stay indoors comfortably, I need an excuse. Rain is that excuse. It's raining outside.

I have been listening to the rain, enjoying a cup of coffee and perusing other blogs. I love to read blogs. I love to read the thoughts of other people, to understand different perspectives and to learn something new. Reading a blog is almost like reading someone's personal journal sometimes. Unlike an article written in journalist fashion, blogs tend to have a much more 'human' feel that I appreciate. It's like someone is taking the time to share a piece of themselves.

People set their blogs up to reflect what they are about, and each blog has it's own unique 'feel'; from a reader's perspective its the online version of visiting peoples' homes. I totally dig the individuality, the colors, the images and the graphics that people choose to represent them. More insight into that person's uniqueness.

I have noticed, in spite of its title, that my blog is perhaps one of the darkest blogs out there. Maybe the darkness on my blog is the lighter side of me, hehe. Or maybe I like to occasionally provide light via the content. Occasionally. Maybe those brief snippets are the exception that proves the rule; the things that keep us hanging on just a little longer, just in case...

I don't think I intended to make it dark. It was a subconscious thing. When I chose my background, I thought "yes, here's a haunted room...this is what I know..." It made me feel simultaneously comforted and just a little edgy; therefore normal. Maybe I thought you might feel and appreciate it too, that it would invite you to come in, to sit down and stay awhile. My font is a little crazy. Self explanatory.  But it makes me think: should I brighten things up, and make my blog a lighter, Lighter Side of Darkness? Or do I keep it as is, letting the light, when it occurs, be that much brighter for the contrast? Hmmm.....Things to think about on a rainy day...

I Heart Squirrel

Murphy

  I heart squirrel, at least most of the time, though not in the same way that Murphy does. And of course, my squirrels are metaphoric. Even so, I can relate to the frustrated whining and intense gaze of my dog whenever one of these fuzzy little creatures shows themselves, twitching their tails and moving in quick zig-zags to make their presence even more unbearably tempting. The more unattainable something seems sometimes, the more desirable it can become.

   I get it, I do. And I am in two minds about my own 'squirrels'. I understand the experience of being so wrapped up and so obsessed that I can't tear my 'gaze' away from whatever it is that holds my attention. Squirrels can mean addiction; something unhealthy that takes a person away from their lives. A person (again, metaphorically) can cross the road in front of a truck running after a squirrel, or get so far away from where they started that they can't find their way back. Certainly, for both dogs and people, squirrels can have deadly repercussions. What starts as a seemingly innocent, instinctive interest can lead to unanticipated, unhelpful automatic responses.

   Is it always bad though? Sometimes my tenacity and obsessiveness has done me a lot of good. Sometimes tenacity is the only thing that stands between success and failure. I guess there is a bit of a need to recognize when it's helpful and when it's not. Fortunately for people, we don't have to blindly obsess and chase after our 'squirrels'; we have the ability to assess whether or not the chase is worth it. But we have to be careful here too.

   Sometime we can see a goal and it seems so unrealistic we don't even want to try. But what is unrealistic? Can't luck prevail in our own lives as much as in anyone elses? There's no shortage of luck, there is plenty to go around. I think it's a matter of believing that we deserve it and staking our claim. If we approach our goals refusing to see the negatives in our peripheral vision, if we keep our eyes facing forward to 'the big picture', then that is precisely where we are likely to end up. Even Murphy has caught some of his squirrels. It's certainly likely that we can too. We have a much better chance of doing so if we at least try. And in this case I can learn something from Murphy: Even though his 'success rate' is low, and even though his opportunities are few, he will try for that squirrel EVERY TIME the opportunity presents itself. It seems that Murphy is an opportunist extraordinaire:-) And what's wrong with that? Making the most of our opportunities can be a big part of moving forward. I think working hard and creating our own road is the other part, and that's where we humans have the advantage.

   SO, now that I've written an entire blog entry based on my dog's bandanna and predatory tendencies, I think it is in everyone's best interest that I stop now and go get myself a cup of coffee;-)

Murphy's bandanna is by Rein Designs and can be purchased here: Jibber Jabbers