Of mice and broken things

I cried about mouse poison this morning.  Well, more exactly, about the need to purchase mouse poison.

I heard it in the ceiling last night - that horrible skittering sound - and I talked myself out of believing it. I convinced myself it was grandma's dog upstairs.  I popped in earplugs to block out ambient noise, and turned up the Grey's Anatomy re-run I was watching on Netflix, and I convinced myself it was okay to sleep, and there wasn't something skittering around in the ceiling above my head, and that it wouldn't come through the pop-out ceiling tiles that my grandpa shoddily put in place decades ago, and land on me while I was sleeping.

It worked, too, until this morning when I heard it again, just before heading upstairs and discovering that the dog was outside.

And then I called my mom and I cried.  Because I needed to go out and buy mouse poison.

More exactly, I cried because this seemed like the last straw in a week that had been filled with hard stuff.

Two different good friends are facing major illnesses in parents right now.

Others are facing major illnesses of their own.

My nursing semester hasn't started off anything like what I was hoping, and I'm playing a waiting game, getting more and more stressed about getting in the hours that I need before the deadline in early December.

It just seems like the last week has been full of hard things in my life, and in the lives of people I love.

And now there's a mouse in my ceiling, making my already ridiculous living situation just that much crazier.

The mouse was the last straw.  I ended up leaving the house, walking to a local bookstore, and browsing until I'd managed to calm myself out of an anxiety attack.

Then I walked home and put mouse poison in my ceiling, and convinced myself that earplugs are a great invention.

I'm drained - so drained that I couldn't even make a decision about what to make for dinner.  I let a friend on facebook do it for me. (I'm going to make a turkey burger and some steamed veggies).

I'm drained, and I'm sad, but I did manage to fight off an anxiety attack today.  And I'm going to have a healthy meal, and then maybe go for another quick walk in the sun, just to gear up for bed.

So I cried over mouse poison, but really, I cried over broken things - a broken world, broken bodies, broken organizations, and a broken house.  And then I got up and did something about the one of those things I could tangibly manage.  And that made me feel just a little bit better as I walked home from the bookstore, and from buying mouse poison and tried to pray.

Daydreaming...

In seasons of limbo, when discontent strikes hard and deep, I daydream.  I think about the things I miss about a more stable living situation - showering in the same house where I sleep most nights, normal meal planning and cooking, not feeling confined to one small part of the space.  I dream about plants that fill a space - jasmine plants in every room, filling the air with their lovely scent.  Palms, Boston ferns, peace lilies, spider plants and rubber plants for their beauty and air purifying properties.  A cozy chair with cushions, an ottoman and soft blankets in which to wrap oneself while curling up to read.  I dream about coming home easily, not catching my breath and breathing a prayer for patience and grace before I open the door (or at least not doing that every. single. day.) I dream about a space with windows and sunlight, instead of a basement cave.  I dream about not having to plan and schedule things like laundry, showers, and other random tasks.

And then, in an effort to combat the discontent, I remind myself to count some blessings.

Today, as I head back to grandma's after a week of house-sitting, I'm reminding myself that I have the following to look forward to:

• access to my entire closet, instead of a suitcase for making daily wardrobe choices
• access to my entire stash of snacks, to supplement work lunches, not just what I packed to get me through the week
• being surrounded by my book collection
• curling up in my own bed.
• getting back to a regular nighttime routine, including a liturgical prayer book that I'm very much enjoying
• finding rhythm again
• access to my stash of creative supplies, tackling a couple of projects, and being free to be inspired for more
• lighting candles all around the room for warmth, atmosphere, and happy smells

Home again, home again

So, after two weeks off, I'm back at Grandma's tonight.

I got here in time to chat on the phone for a bit with a friend, and then watch The Bachelorette while I ate dinner and worked on unpacking and sorting belongings after being away for two weeks.

And now, now I'm cleaning, sorting and resting.

I put the closets that my grandma emptied a few weeks ago when the basement flooded back together, taking the time to sort through some of the items in them, and purge a few things.

I have candles lit all over the room, and I sprayed a good chunk of the carpet with a natural deodorizer and antibacterial spray that I picked up a while back.  I'm hoping the spray will help ease the smell that results when decades old carpet suddenly get flooded by nasty ground water.  The candles also help with the coldness inherent to basement living, especially in the summer.

Basements are colder in the summer.  In the winter, the whole house is cold, so the furnace kicks on regularly and makes the basement liveable.  In the summer, the upstairs, where the furnace sensors are located, is warm, so the furnace doesn't kick on to the same degree.  Basement living is definitely cold in the summer.

I'm puttering online, while trying to back up my laptop to a new external hard drive, and then waiting to do a few software upgrades as well.

I'm home again, whatever it is that means when one lives in a place where one only stays four days a week.

And, despite all the baggage that comes with it, I'm mostly glad to be here.

My Reality

I've been thinking a lot lately about the realities of my life right now.  Some of them are humorous, some of them are just hard, but they're all things that are part of my reality, things that I have to navigate each day.

My reality includes (among other things):

• A bathroom door that doesn't reach to the ceiling
• My bathroom is also missing a ceiling and a normal floor.  It has a broken toilet paper holder (grandma broke it a month or so ago when she decided my bathroom needed to be cleaned.).  And it has spiders sometimes.
• No bedroom door, just a curtain (a fact that needs to change.  soon.)
• Feeling kind of displaced as I spend my days at one home, and my nights at another.
• A bathroom light that has wiring challenges, meaning you have to flick the light on and off several times to get it to stay on.
• A basement window that doesn't latch, so grandma has jammed it shut with a butter knife
• Figuring out how to really engage life in the moments where it feels more like exile than real life
• odd dreams
• a weird lighting/wiring set-up in the basement that means I use my iphone as a flashlight every single night to make the trek from the front door, down the stairs and through the basement to my living space
• Because my grandma has a thing about saving money (LONG story) and has actually timed showers, most days I shower in a different house than the one I sleep in
• walking through hard personal stuff, day by day
• navigating some pretty odd family dynamics that have cropped up around my living situation
• waiting - to find out about what kind of job to look for, to find out if I've been accepted into school, and on a number of more personal fronts.
• and, most recently, figuring out the arrival of my somewhat sketchy uncle, now also living in the same home as my grandma and I.

How to Fill a Day that Doesn't Hold an Escape

Every so often my parents very justifiably ask for a day when I don't invade their home in an effort to escape the crazy living realities of my own place of residence.  They need a day off and time to themselves too.  They generally give me a few days notice that on such and such a day, I need to make other plans.

Today is one of those days.

I've learned to make lists.  I spent a vast portion of yesterday jotting things down every few minutes or hours, as one sort of "oh, I should get that done" or other would cross my mind.  The list has far more on it than I can realistically accomplish in a day, but that's kind of the point. 

Options are important on the days when it is harder to escape the place I reside.  On the days where I can't just set up camp somewhere else with ease.

I came home last night and rearranged furniture, too.  The dvd drive on my laptop has been dying a slow death for a while now, and seems to have finally given up entirely.  That was having a serious impact on my ability to watch dvds while reclined on my bed.  I fixed that problem last night with a little bit of rearranging.  I moved my television and dvd player to someplace where I can see them while comfortably reclined.

I hung my map of the world back up last night, too, and began the process of sticking pictures of people I love and pray for up around the map.  I hung that where I can see it from my bed too.  (I spend a lot of my evenings sitting on my bed, propped up against the headboard, especially since I sold my couch and loveseat before my last move.)  One of the things I loved about the home of the friend I stayed with in California was that there were pictures of the important people in her life everywhere in her home.  I hadn't bothered to hang much of my art, or even to get new photos printed since I moved in here.  It was survival mode, and I figured why bother hanging stuff if I wasn't going to be staying?  But, I'm still unemployed, and I still don't know about school, and I can't make decisions about moving until those things are sorted out.  So, I'm going to get pictures printed, and put them up around the map.  I want the people I love around me right now, reminding me that I love and am loved in return.

Other things on my list of possibilities for a day that doesn't contain an easy escape include things like filling out Canadian and American passport paperwork, doing yoga, painting my toenails, attacking a mound of filing of important papers that I've essentially ignored for the last couple of months, just adding papers to the pile, reviewing my latest booksneeze freebie (a dvd this time), working on a new project I've been doing, calling my bank, making a pot of tea, doing some reading, sorting and cleaning and purging, trying a teeth whitening sample I recently ordered, stitching up a hole in something, and sewing on a button, watching some television on dvd, taking some photos of my crazy living situation, doing some exercises from a book I'm reading, and ordering photos to be printed online.

And, I'm going to head out to a store called 10,000 Villages.  It's a fabulous store, and I'm looking for a couple small, colorful, items to bring a larger taste of the world I can't afford to travel to right now, to my living space.  Things that will add life and color and warmth to this odd place that I inhabit.

I told you there was too much to do.  But the options are helpful.  It means I can evaluate what I feel like doing, instead of just having to pick something from a list I'm not excited about, for the sake of keeping busy.

And with that, I'm going to crawl out of bed long enough to grab the muffin I set aside for breakfast, the supplements that need to be swallowed with that breakfast, and then I'll eventually get up and walk to 10,000 Villages, thus getting some exercise in as well! 

I'm off to begin the process of filling a day that doesn't have an easy escape... I'm sure it will be an adventure all it's own!

Daily 5 - Year 2, Day 40

Today's Daily 5:

1. spending the entire morning (including eating breakfast!) in bed
2. watching lots and lots of Grey's Anatomy on dvd
3. an afternoon of quiet and alone time
4. taking a bath and revisiting my favorite former Friday evening pasttime (on a Friday afternoon) by watching Grey's while relaxing in the tub
5. after six months of living half-way in and out of being settled in grandma's house because of various uncertainties, I decided tonight to set up a table and chairs in my space.  I decided I needed a place to sit and work and pray and think, and started the process of doing that by moving my table and chairs into a space that will work for them.  I don't have a couch anymore, or I'd have moved my coffee table and that in instead, but the table and chairs will work for now, and it's something - a place to settle and think and pray.  A place to sit that is not my bed (though I think that will always remain my preferred spot!)
6. I also used my dvd player for the first time tonight, and settled for the first time into the chair and sitting spot I set up when I moved in six months ago.  To be fair, I did this partly because the dvd player in my laptop is slowly dieing and is scratching my dvds in the process, but sitting in a spot to watch a dvd on a normal screen feels good.  Like a little bit of sanity in my very bizarre life at grandma's, don't even have a bedroom door world.
7. I lit candles everywhere to combat the smell of musty basement (and other odd house smells that have been happening here at grandma's lately) and to warm up my cold space
8. wearing a twirly skirt, and a scarf, even though it was a cooler day and that wouldn't be my normal impulse on cooler days
9. finding out that the process of getting an American passport is going to take way less legwork than I thought, thanks to some work my parents did to get each of us a document certifying our American citizenship when we were born
10. The simple process of applying myself to a task was helpful tonight in refocusing myself after a very hard day.  So I cleaned, and I unpacked my suitcase from my trip and put things away, and I created a new space to sit and think.

I Kill My Own Spiders

A number of years ago my dad read a column to me that was written by humor columnist Dave Barry.  It was titled, "From Here on, Let Women Kill Their Own Spiders."

I was thinking of that title this week, because it's summer, and I live in a basement.

Life in a basement generally always means that there is a spider or two to be found.

Life in a basement in the summer can mean that spiders are a regular occurrence.

And this week I've killed at least three or four.  I don't even scream anymore.

Not only that, but the other day, I walked through the laundry room on my way to the little basement bathroom I use at Grandma's, and noticed a spider.  I just couldn't be bothered to kill it.  It wasn't in my bedroom or bathroom, so I just ignored it.

I've come a long way.

And I kill my own spiders.

Summer Nights at Grandma's

I'm at Grandma's house mostly only for sleeping these days.

But, let me tell you about summer sleeping in the basement at Grandma's.

It requires more clothing and blankets, not less.

Last night I wore my pajamas, and my polar fleece robe, and a pair of socks to bed.

I haven't taken any blankets for winter off of my bed.

My theory is this.

Basements are always cold, because heat rises.

In the winter, this is compensated for by the reality of a furnace.

So here's the problem in summer.

My room gets absolutely no natural light, really, meaning it doesn't naturally warm up.

The heat sensor for the furnace in the house, the thermostat, is upstairs. 

Upstairs, which, on hot summer days, doesn't require a furnace.

My room is cold.

The furnace generally kicks in sometime in the middle of the night, when the upstairs temperature finally drops a little.

In the meantime, sleep in summer at Grandma's requires layers.

Tired

Overnight a minor flare-up of "I'm tired of all the crap-itis" turned into a full blown case.

I'm tired of the many, many curve balls that life has thrown my way this last while.

I'm tired of the the politics and the maneuvering and the bending of morals and standards in my place of employment.  There hasn't even been a recent influx of those things.  Just a build-up of long term exhaustion.

I'm tired of relationships that have to be carefully managed.

I'm tired of living (well, it feels like hiding sometimes) in the basement at Grandma's.

I'm tired of trying to come up with ways to smile and laugh at all the ridiculous things that life has thrown at me in the last few months.

I'm tired of feeling like I have to pretend.

I'm tired of being around people (my grandma especially) where I have to carefully watch every word I say.

To be honest, I'm not sure I'll post this, or, if I do, that I'll leave it up.

It's not the choosing differently attitude that I'm trying to embrace these days.

It's more of a wallowing.

And I'll be honest in saying that life circumstances are definitely making this choosing joy and choosing life thing a lot more challenging at the moment.

I'm weary.

I'm even tired of myself.

Roast Beef at Dawn

It was already Sunday when I went to bed.

After the murder-mystery bachelorette party, which was both every bit as awkward as I expected, and not quite as painful as I expected.

I woke again for the first time around 6:30.

Can I just say that the smell of roast beef cooking at 6:30 in the morning is a little incongruous?

I lay there in the dark, trying to figure out why the whole house smelled like roast beef, or if, perhaps, I was still dreaming.

I woke again a few hours later to the buzzing of my phone.

L was calling from England, and we passed about an hour laughing and talking and catching up on each other's lives.

There was something truly lovely about starting the day laughing and talking with a dear friend far away.

Eventually, after getting the laundry started, I ventured upstairs to make breakfast and discovered a leftover roasting pan.

Clearly, Grandma was making roast beef at 6:30 this morning. 

The question of why this was a logical time to make a roast, remains unanswered.

Maybe it's just because she's 80.

There are a lot of things that happen in this house that seem to only happen because she's 80.

Roast beef before dawn is only the most recent installment.

You stop asking after a while.

And with that, I'm off to tackle the rest of the usual Sunday morning chores before heading out to spend the day celebrating my mom.

Asking for Help (Thoughts from "Jesus Freak")

I read this passage from the "Healing" section of Sara Miles' latest book "Jesus Freak: Feeding, Healing, Raising the Dead" last night, and was struck deeply by it.

I was still terrible at asking for help...I was good at dismissing other people's hesitations, the endless cycle of excuses I heard all the time: I don't want to bother you. Nobody would understand. Other people have real troubles; my problems aren't serious enough. My problems are too serious; there's nothing anyone can do. I'm embarrassed. I'm OK. Nobody really listens anyway.


My own excuses were equally dumb. But they were so embedded in my self-image as a capable grown-up that I almost always chose to keep my problems to myself...Asking for attention, comfort, time, listening, prayers - that made my skin crawl.

And yet, when I could force myself to do it, I saw how getting to the point of asking was an essential part of my healing. As much as I might fantasize that my real friends, my most beloved family members, the best priest or teacher or spiritual director would guess just what I wanted and provide it, the fact was I had to ask. I had to put myself in a place of truth, of admitting that I needed help.

"What do you think I should do?" I'd finally say to Paul. I hated being told what to do.

"Honey, I'm worried," I'd finally say to Martha. I always wanted to be the one who told others not to worry.

"I'm afraid," I'd finally say aloud. "I'm upset. Hold me."

And then, usually, I'd discover - no matter whether the person I asked had the perfect response, whether the help disappointed or delighted - that something had changed. I wasn't alone with myself, with my ingrown desires and denials, with the thing that I'd been stewing about in private. I'd given myself over to a relationship.

These words hit me deeply.  I stink at asking for help.  I shared the passage with a dear friend by email late last night and chuckled, when, among other things in her response this morning, I read, "the 'capable grown up' - i actually thought those were your words at first... "

I've cultivated a certain independence.  And a certain pride.  Years of depression created an aversion to asking for help.  I got tired of being the one with problems, the one who just couldn't get it together, who couldn't be "fixed."

About a month ago I sent out a prayer request email to a number of friends, detailing a particularly challenging family and life circumstance that I am embroiled in and asking for their prayers and support as I navigate this difficult situation.  I received a wide variety of encouraging responses, but the one that meant the most was from the same dear friend who I emailed the quote from Sara Miles to last night.  Her response was to thank me for sharing and to acknowledge that she knew just how hard it was for me to break some of the silence that had encompassed this particular situation, and admit that I couldn't walk this journey out alone.

That capable grown up thing stings.  I'm nearly 27 years old, and two months ago I moved into my grandma's basement.  I've been teased by quite a number of people for that move.  At 26 you don't usually move back in with family, you move further away from family.  You definitely don't move in with your incredibly nosy, clingy, overbearing, smothering grandmother.  Especially when you're also lacking your own vehicle and she lives on a very inconvenient city transit route.

I moved in because I felt that was where Jesus was leading (a whole other story, I suppose.)  I moved in because the cheaper rent is allowing me more quickly pay down debts accumulated.  Debts that I have a strong desire to be free from.

And living there has been awful.  Not only for the expected personality conflicts, but for a whole variety of family and personal and spiritual reasons.  Plus, I've had to continually find that place of humility and ask for help.  I needed to ask for rides to and from necessary errands.  For advice in navigating some of the delicate situations that have arisen.  And I had to ask friends, near and far to pray for me and stand with me as I navigate this season of life.

I even had to admit to God that I didn't have it all together.

A few years back, Sara Miles' first book, "Take This Bread" offered language to the journey I was on.  It spoke deeply to the crazy experiences of life and relationship (with God and people) that I was walking through at the time.

I'm finding, two years later, that her newest book is doing the same thing.  The irony of that, the God sense of humor in the timing of my reading of these two books, makes me laugh.

In the meantime, I'm about half-way through "Jesus Freak" and I'd strongly recommend it.

Sunday Hangover

Sunday's are hard days for me right now.

As much as I'm trying to embrace and really be okay with this whole "new normal" and routine that has come the last month or two since I moved into Grandma's basement, I'm just not there all the time yet.

I miss what I had.

I miss having a roommate to laugh and debrief the day with - one who I knew wouldn't share everything about my life with everyone she knew.

I miss the freedom of not feeling on edge all the time, waiting and watching.

I miss living in a peaceful apartment, without the crazy spiritual realities.

And I miss the routine.

And Sunday's underscore all of that.

Sunday used to be a day I guarded jealously.  That was my day for rest.  I didn't book social stuff on that day.  It was a day for me, or for me and God.

I went to the zoo early in the morning, just as it was opening, while it was still quiet.

I cooked a fancy breakfast at a leisurely pace.

Sometimes I shopped.

But I rarely did "work" or had a schedule.

In the new normal, Sunday is not a day of rest anymore. 

The zoo is out, at least in the early morning hours there that I loved, because I need Sunday mornings to accomplish all of the tasks that are just so much easier to do when Grandma is at church.  Laundry, cleaning, garbage.  All of the little things that she is nosy about, or has an opinion on, or handles differently that I do.

And I usually manage to start out with a brave face, but by the end of the day the things I miss, the things that feel like such huge losses, hit me.

Yesterday they hit particularly hard.

I went to bed with the sort of bad headache that comes from the combination of tears spilled and tears suppressed.

It's Monday.  A new start as a guy from the second floor reminded me as we boarded the elevator together this morning.

It's Monday, but I have a little bit of a Sunday hangover to fight off first.

On my mind

This, will, I promise, be an entirely random collection of things that I'm currently thinking about.

• I'm wearing my "twirling skirt" today.  Because it just seemed like just the right outfit for today.  And because yesterday I felt like dancing.  This skirt always makes me want to dance.  And it's colorful and happy, so that helps too.
• My life for the next three weeks is rapidly becoming consumed with wedding details as T & L's big day draws closer.  They asked me to help out with another task last night - this time coordinating the slideshow for their wedding reception.  I was happy to agree, but as I was staring at my calendar, I was left trying to figure out where on earth the stuff of daily life is supposed to fit in as I navigate some medical appointments scheduled months ago, long before T & L's engagement, some appointments for the wedding - hair and so forth, and the just general busyness that comes from working full time and trying to be involved in a church community.
• All this wedding stuff is throwing me for a loop, too.  Much like when I was living in the midst of wedding central last year, I'm finding it far more challening to be content with my own single status.  And that's saying something, because I've got to be the most happily single person I've ever met.  But sometimes, all this wedding stuff can just make you lonely.  Don't get me wrong - I'd love to meet a guy and get married.  But loneliness is not something that's mostly on my radar.  At least not that kind of loneliness.  Lately, though, it has been a bit more.
• I'm working through my dislike of change, too, and being challenged by what's appearing in my life, in part because of this wedding.  Because this is a positive change in the life of our family.  It's a gain, not a loss.  And yet, I find myself having a hard time, sometimes, with the incredible way the face of our family will change with the marriage of the first sibling.  And I find myself challenged by how resistant I am feeling internally towards this change.  Especially since it's a change I'm in so many ways delighted by.  One that I know is not a negative thing.  It's odd to see my fears surfacing in this way.
• I'm debating whether or not I'll be able to attend an upcoming retreat with the house churches I'm a part of.  I really want to go.  The topic is one that I'd love to participate in.  But the retreat is the weekend right before the wedding.  And it's also over Mother's Day.  And with my various wedding related responsibilites, and the addition of Mother's Day, I'm kind of feeling like I need to hang out in Calgary instead of going away.  And while I know that that won't be wasted time, it makes me just a little bit grumpy to set aside what I really want for the sake of my family.  (Boy, this post is making me sound like a selfish jerk.)
• I'm still trying to navigate a very difficult living situation as well.  Life at Grandma's is incredibly challenging, and inconsistent, and that means that I am fighting in a huge way to find my place of rest internally, and not have it tied to a place or thing.  At the same time, I really miss some of the freedoms of having my own apartment.  Freedoms in cooking and cleaning.  And especially the freedom to invite friends over and feed them.  I'm sure that Grandma would be fine with me doing this, but I'm also certain that it would be a very bad idea.  Cooking a nice meal is a real challenge, and we'd need to eat it upstairs, as my space downstairs wouldn't accomodate eating or visiting.  And eating upstairs is a problem, because Grandma is there.  I love my grandmother, but she's the most nosy, talkative person on the planet, and having a genuine conversation with a friend in her presence would be impossible.

So, those are the things I'm thinking about today, among others, anyway.

Life feels big and crazy these days.  Not necessarily overwhelming, but like it's spinning fast, and bordering on out of control.  Like one of those jugglers who's doing really well and then, well, he adds that one last ball and drops everything.  I keep wondering what the last ball will be.

And in the midst of this I'm trying to let Jesus teach me lessons of peace.  Of really seeing people.  Of living joyfully.  Of resting, even in the midst of the storms.  They're pretty challenging lessons, to go with a pretty challening life.

Stuff I'm Thinking About

I have a whole mish-mash of thoughts running through my head today, on a wide variety of issues, ideas and plans.

I'm definitely going to buy the stuff and try my hand at making one of these - how pretty is that?

I live in a dark basement where no plants can survive, but I've become a houseplant evangelist overnight, and as soon as I move to someplace that has light again, I'm going to buy a whole bunch.  In fact, I'm going to start by getting several for my office.  Why, you ask?  I read this article last night, that informed me that sometimes the air inside of the building is more toxic than the air outside, and that houseplants, and in particular certain plants, do an incredible job of removing those toxins from the air.  Very cool.

And, since I've been all about finding ways to live simply and "green" lately, as soon as I have a place of my own again, I'm going to give making my own household cleaners a try too.  I have some friends who have started doing that lately, and had good results, so I think I'll give it a shot.  I was always doubtful that you could properly clean something without chemicals, but it seems like investing in having less toxins in the air is probably good, not only for the environment in general, but for me, since I tend to be a bit chemically sensitive.  I found an article here with recipes for a bunch of basic homemade cleaning products, and I'm going to give it a shot.

I'm amazed by this story about how a volcanic erruption in Iceland is wreaking havoc on European air travel, and I'm thinking about a friend who flew through Heathrow the other day, and will be coming back through next week.

I'm scheming about ways to save money on groceries for a little while, and still eat healthy and I think I'm going to attempt to buy minimally and really use up the stuff I've collected in the pantry and freezer.  As best I can figure, I should really only have to buy some fresh veggies and fruit, and maybe some bread and chicken (just to break up the monotony of beef and pork that's in my freezer) for a while.  Maybe even a month or two.  Sweet.

I'm pondering how much harder it has been to keep up the habits of eating healthy since moving into Grandma's house because of the poorly equipped kitchen and the general lack of motivation to cook while being closely watched by my rather nosy Grandmother, and I'm trying to come up with ways around that, since I've definitely noticed the difference in how well I feel as my healthier habits have taken a nosedive.  I'm remembering how well it worked to cook two meals at once earlier this week and just stash them in the fridge for the remainder of the week, and I'm considering the merits of batch cooking and freezing a whole bunch of individual meals for myself.  If any of you are in Calgary and are interested in getting together some Saturday to cook several meals for freezing and easy access later, let me know, I'd love to cook with you!

Living in what has been an extremely challenging, and often toxic environment for the last nearly two months has left me thinking a lot again about what I want when I finally manage to have a home of my own.  Simple, and as enviromentally friendly as possible are what I'm leaning towards.

Also, I want to garden.  I want to grow herbs, and maybe some of my own vegetables, or check into Community Supported Agriculture, or at least patronize the Farmer's Market more regularly again.  That last one should be easier to do soon.  I'm within a week of having a car that is driveable again.

And with that, I'd better dive back into the many things demanding my attention.

Rambly Thoughts

I'm feeling quite rambly again.

I'm thinking and praying, still, for a dear friend in transit on the other side of the world.  Wondering if she made her connections, or if there were problems, and waiting to hear.

I'm thinking about my brother, J., who works for a local social services agency, in a home for severely challenged teenagers.  Kids with emotional and developmental difficulties.  I need to text him later today and find out if he's okay.  He had to physically restrain a girl yesterday and came out a little the worse for the wear.  It took three grown men to restrain her, and J. was bit and she spat in his eye.  Last I heard he was headed for a clinic and a lab to get the wound cleaned out, and get some blood work done.  If I know J., within a week, he'll have found a way to make it a hilarious story.  He's uniquely talented for the job - where I would see only the rules, he sees and enforces the rules, but still finds a way to see the kids.  I think he's headed back to his usual summer landscaping job within a few weeks, but last I heard he was hoping to return to this agency in the fall, and work for them through the school year.  So, I'll wait a while, and then I'll text him and find out how he's doing.

I'm debating evening plans.  There's a conference going on at a local church that I want to attend, but I'm not feeling highly motivated to go alone tonight.  I have friends to attend with the next several days, but not tonight.  I might go anyway.  Or I might go shopping.  I need a good pair of walking shoes.  I've been putting it off, but I need to take care of that soon.  Or maybe I'll just go home and have one more evening of rest before diving into the busy rest of the week.

I'm still laughing over last's night's cooking adventures.  I mentioned in yesterday's daily 5 that since my grandma was out for the evening, I took advantage of the quiet and did a whole bunch of cooking, knowing that the remainder of the week would be crazily busy, and I wouldn't have a chance to cook, and just barely time to eat.  However, her knives are less than useful (a dull paring knife with a 2" blade, and a 30 year old serrated bread knife) and though I searched high and low, I couldn't find a frying pan to save my life.  I did however manage to cook butter chicken with couscous, and italian pork chops with sweet baby bell peppers and roasted potatoes.  And it all tasted great.  I only had a bite of the butter chicken last night, just to try it, and then had pork chops and potatoes for supper.  I'm quite looking forward to my lunch of butter chicken today.

I'm thinking about banking, because I need to do some at lunch.

And about payday, because I need to hand out paystubs to our staff today, and how that nice sum of money will "magicly" appear in my account in the morning.

I'm thinking about praying with oatmeal and tea and lots of funny little reminders to pray.

I'm wishing my former roommate, L., was only a phone call away, because I think she'd be fun to laugh with, over some of the many funny adventures I've had lately.  Cooking at grandmas, the attack of the stupid little dog, J. being bitten by one of his charges.  And because I'd love to hear about the places she's exploring overseas, and how her new job is going.  I guess I'll have to email her soon.

And I'm thinking about the friends I've made, scattered around the blog world, and praying for them too - the ones I've met in person, and the ones I've corresponded with via emails and blog comments.  And about how cool it is to connect in this way, in this sharing of hearts over the internet.

And with that, I'd better dive into my busy day!

Daily 5 - Day 244

Today's Daily 5:

1. Grandma was out for a while when I got home, and I took advantage of it and took over the kitchen, cooking for the rest of the week.  I forgot how much I love the feeling of cooking, and even washing dishes and cleaning up.  The normalcy of doing those tasks without feeling watched or hen-pecked tonight was beautiful.
2. I made Indian Butter Chicken (from a paste mix - but so tasty) and Italian pork chops with sweet baby bell peppers, and roasted potatoes.  And, there's enough for two meals of Butter Chicken, and three more pork chops.  Basically I've solved my "I haven't been cooking so I've been eating crap" problem for the rest of the week in one fell swoop.
3. A smooth trip to the registry office today.  Only one step left (and one repair by my dad) and I'll be the owner of a car that can legally be on the roads.
4. Tax return cheque came in the mail.  Hooray for money back from the government!
5. Trading text messages with a dear friend late this afternoon while I commuted home, and she waited in the airport to catch a flight overseas for a few weeks.  It was nice to share those moments with her, and assure her I was praying for some stuff that came up as she waited for her flight.
6. Went to mom and dad's after work to pick up my mail, and there was a card and package waiting from the same dear friend.  It's great to get special mail sometimes.
7. After all that cooking, I cleaned up, got ready for tomorrow, and crawled into bed.  It's been great to spend an evening just mellowly watching a dvd and catching up on a few emails.
8. Did I mention that not only did I cook, but I did it in quite possibly the worst equipped kitchen ever?  I did all of that cooking without most of the basic tools and pans I would use for those tasks.  I couldn't even find a frying pan.  I was really proud of the way the food turned out given the limitations in my cooking supplies.
9. Chocolate
10. Going to bed earlyish tonight.  Still trying to recover.

All over thoughts

I know I promised an update from the weekend away for work, so let me start there:

I drove (well, actually, Mom drove, and I was a passenger) through a blizzard to make it to the city the conference was being held in.  The weather wreaked havoc all weekend.  We were very excited that Carolyn Arends was to be providing the entertainment for our Friday night banquet, but her flights were affected by the weather too.  So, maybe next year.  We had a banquet (very good) with a program (also good) but no entertainment.  No big deal.  Little hitches with the hotel can also be partially attributed to weather.  I worked a 14 hour day on Friday and probably a 10 hour day (once you add the drive home in) on Saturday.  But I'm really pleased with how things went, barring the little unavoidable hitches.

~~~

Last night did not hold any stupid little dog incidents.  I have, however, concluded that old people are strange.  Rather than closing her bedroom door to keep the dog in, grandma has decided that the best plan of action would be to put something across her door.  Why she doesn't close it, I'll never understand, but hey, as long as there are no more incidents involving a little black dog pouncing on me and scaring me awake from a dead sleep, I'm okay with it.

I did actually sleep last night, and just now was thinking about how I shouldn't complain that I feel tired, since I had a rare nearly 5-6 total hours of sleep, sans nightmares.

And then I remembered that one night doesn't make up for years of poor sleeping.

And that I worked like a crazy person for the last couple weeks, including through an evening and a weekend day that I usually have off, and maybe I'm entitled to be a little bit drained.

And I am drained.  So tired, in fact, that I'm having that "I just want to sit here and cry" feeling.

I'm thinking, too, about a number of prayer requests.

About 2 different friends, one old and one new, whose mother's have been diagnosed in recent months with rare cancers.

I'm pondering, still, the intense juxtaposition of life and death that I experienced on Sunday afternoon.

I'm praying for a very dear friend who travels today to a place on the other side of the world where we shared some intense experiences together a few years back.  Praying for her trip, and her time in this place, and for the others who shared those very shaping experiences with us as well.

And I'm thinking about the random practical things, like the fact that I need to leave the office early today to go to the auto registry and take care of registering the car I recently bought.  And trying to figure out when I can get said car inspected, before the insurance company deadline, because of it's elderly age.  And remembering that I need to pick up mail from my mom and dad's tonight, and also make a stop at a bank today or tomorrow to deposit some cheques.  About the fact that I need to remember to bring some breakfast foods to work with me again to replenish my stash, and about how I could really use a bright sunny day instead of this dreary, cold, snowy weather, just to perk me up.

And that, my friends, is the random conglomeration of things filling my brain just in this moment.

Stupid Little Dog

I will, in a few weeks, likely feel like laughing about last night's sleep.  But today I definitely do not.

I haven't said a lot here about life at Grandma's but it's been really, really hard.  There are lots of reasons for this, most of which are not yet fair game for public discussion, but one of the reasons is my intense sensitivity to spiritual activity.  Because it turns out that her house has some uniquely dark spiritual stuff going on.  Which means I mostly haven't slept well in the month and a half or so that I've been living there.  Nightmares, weird encounters, odd wakings.  These have been the stuff of life for me.  Something pouncing on me in the night has never been benign, and it's been noticeably bad in this house.

Grandma has a stupid little dog named Teddy.  Teddy has only once in the time that I've lived there dared to come downstairs and slip into my room.  (I don't have a bedroom door, just a curtain that doesn't reach the floor, so it's easy for her to get in if she wants.)

Last night I was actually sleeping.  Deeply.  For the first time in weeks.  And the stupid little dog, who is black, and silent, snuck downstairs at one in the morning, slipped under the curtain, and pounced on me.  Waking me from a sound sleep, and throwing me into an adrenaline rushing panic.

And then she wouldn't leave my bedroom.  I had to chase her out.

Her odd behaviour made me wonder if she'd come to get me because something was wrong with grandma, so I grabbed my cell phone and trekked upstairs.  Nope.  Sleeping soundly.

I was just nicely calming myself out of the adrenaline rush and panic, when the stupid little thing managed to slip back downstairs and under the curtain without me noticing, planting herself by my bed and breathing heavily.  Hello adrenaline.

That time I yelled at her, and she went running.

Moments later, I heard banging around upstairs, grabbed my phone again, grumpily crawled out of bed, and trekked upstairs.  There was grandma, standing in the kitchen, waiting.  Seems Teddy had needed to make a trip outside and decided I'd be the convenient one to wake.

I'm trying to figure out how to puppy proof my door-less bedroom.  Because that kind of startled waking cannot keep happening.

It's bad enough to deal with the odd spiritual stuff.  I really don't need to add a stupid little dog to the mix.

Puppy-proofing will be the first order of business tonight.

(And, I might add, that none of this would happen if Grandma would just close her bedroom door when she sleeps - then Teddy would be in with her, and I wouldn't have to worry about sneak attacks when I'm sound asleep.)

It took 3 hours for the adrenaline to wear off and sleep to return.  Just enough time to catch an hour or so before I had to get up.

In a few weeks, this might be funny.  Right now, it's still making me growl.

Daily 5 - Day 229

Today's Daily 5:

1. Full moon tonight.
2. Holy Week
3. Took the long way home on the bus tonight, got some much needed quiet and space for reflection.  Thinking I might try it again tomorrow.
4. The quiet space left me free to actually accomplish things when I got home - I love the feeling of checking things off of a list
5. Figuring out how to slice piping hot pizza when the knife options are limited to a dull paring knife with a 2 inch blade or a serrated bread knife that I'm pretty sure is as old as the house (like maybe 40 years).  And being able to laugh at how ridiculous it seems is that a month ago I lived with a roommate in a well-equipped kitchen because we both loved to cook, and now I live in my grandma's house where pizza gets baked on odd pans because there's no pizza pan in sight, and it gets sliced with a dull 2 inch paring knife, because that's more functional than a decades old bread knife!
6. Finished (and wrote the review for) the book it's felt like I've been slogging through for a while now.
7. Anticipating starting to read a book I purchased a few months back.  Looking forward to starting this title, Jesus Freak by Sara Miles, particularly during Holy Week.
8. Trading a few emails with a dear friend
9. Wrote a snail mail card for another friend, ready for mailing tomorrow.  I love sending (and receiving for that matter) real mail.
10. Thinking about the story of Hagar, and the God who sees.  Something profound in that as I walk through some very uncertain moments right now.

Daily 5 - Day 221

Today's Daily 5:

1. A Sunday evening at home, and Grandma was out!  So great to just relax and enjoy the quiet and move about the house freely.
2. Leftover Sweet Chili Chicken for supper
3. Took a longish walk this afternoon in the sun, to do an errand or two
4. Had a really productive day, with lots of time to think.
5. trying to think and choose differently again.  Not easy, but hopefully worth it.
6. freshly painted fingernails and toenails
7. Loving the smell of freshly washed sheets
8. took a long (for me anyway), refreshing shower tonight while Grandma was out.  Able to do it without wondering if she was sitting on her perch in the living room, timing how long I was in there, and feeling guilty and rushing.  
9. Caught up on some stuff that I was WAY behind on.
10. Lighted candles scattered around my room.