ludicrous: making me crazy

Some stuff in the news has been making me crazy lately. I have not made a secret of that. Regis suggested that I use this blog to vent my anger and bitterness but that doesn't sound appealing right now.

I remember after the tornado, when we drove through town, I would shield my eyes from the west side of the street because the sight of Gustavus, bare naked without trees, was too devastating.

The other thing about the tornado was that it took a while to absorb all the destruction. The first day, I knew that my living room windows were gone and the back porch had disappeared. It took a couple days to see that my car, parked in the street, had been crushed by a giant walnut tree. Eventually, I was able to see the big picture.

That's how this election has been for me. It's been a long time since I have been able to watch the news. Well, really since that whole OJ Simpson white Bronco debacle, but I have managed to squint at a news cast from time to time since then. No more. That we could be discussing the possible election of a man who was a deplorable reality show host was unbelievable to me. I just avoided it.

In the last week since the election, I avert my eyes when I walk on the treadmill at the fitness center because all the televisions are on the news. I avoid conversations about anything that might even get close to election results or the incoming administration. It's ludicrous. I love the definition: so foolish, unreasonable, or out of place as to be amusing; ridiculous.

The saddest thing for me is that I am avoiding people.

So, how to find happiness and peace in the midst of this insanity?

They say that taking action for goodness and for humanity is a good way to cope. 

I will get there one day but not today. Today, I'm taking a dandelion break.

squirrel obesity

I spent two days making lefse and flatbread. It wasn't as much work as I remember mostly since I have accepted the instant potato fact of life. There is some kind of sacred significance attached to using real potatoes but I don't get it. Last year in a taste test, nobody could tell the difference between lefse made with potatoes and lefse made with instant potatoes. Don't tell anyone but I have also started using instant potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner.

I remember years ago when Maura ordered a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a diet coke, then spoke this universal truth: You have to cut corners where you can. There you go.

Regis took Gus for a walk up on the hill last night. I resisted, having spent two days in the salt mines, but I did agree to sit on the hill and watch for the moon to rise. It was some kind of super moon (seems like we have a lot of those nowadays) and it was beautiful. Much more beautiful than the photo I took. Regis tried to talk to me about exposure and light meters and so forth, but you know me and numbers. They lift up off the page and drift around my head like dust particles.

I just heard the weather forecast for Friday. Rain turning to snow with 40 mph winds. Yeah. Not going out in that shit. Good day to stay home and read a book under a blanket. I finished a Colin Dexter mystery last night...four guys dead but I'm not sure who did what to who. Haha!

We bought a giant bag of peanuts in the shell the other day at the pet store. The words has gotten out among the squirrels and blue jays of the neighborhood. The obesity screening committee is coming tomorrow and will be issuing medical alert bracelets to our vermin.

staring at the moon

Regis and Gus went for a walk late in the afternoon yesterday. I can't remember what I was doing. Probably cleaning up after lefse making. Tiffany and Elliot came for a while and we watched the squirrels make madly off with a dozen peanuts in the shell. They are so comical. We should have quite the peanut crop next summer.

I woke up about 4 this morning. The moon was beautiful again...or still. I am going to remember that. The moon is beautiful no matter what kind of assholish things people say on Facebook.

Speaking of which, I am done with social media. I thought I could put myself on a diet and only look at it briefly and sporadically, but, I find myself either blurting bullshit or spending hours writing reasoned responses in my head, which of course would do nobody any good. Not healthy for me. Done again.

I made a list this morning of things I should do in my kitchen, like clean out drawers and cupboards. We'll see how that goes. It's good to dig around back there and find the cans of clams I bought in 2005 to make chowder, but never used. Haha!

I made my Suzy Snowflake costume the other night which resulted in a glitter explosion and a pile of stuff hot glued together which may not survive the car ride to downtown without self-destructing. I am beginning to regret this. There is a gathering of women on Saturday at the community center and I would much rather be there but I am committed to this goofy thing. 

The young girl who was lost on Friday was found alive yesterday. In chest deep water of the Minnesota River, clinging to a tree. She made it four miles in her pajamas, bare feet, in freezing weather, for two days and one night. If that isn't some kind of miracle, I don't know what is.

I am busy planning my Thanksgiving meal. This year, I'm going to a more open house kind of thing. Maybe serve the meal over a couple hours so if people have somewhere else to go they can do that comfortably. I'm also, first time ever, not cooking a whole turkey. I'm making a breast and a batch of Swedish meatballs. I hate dealing with that damn turkey carcass at the last minute before serving a big meal. I might even cook that damn breast the day before and throw it in the crock pot. It is, after all, more about the sides.

We went to Best Buy yesterday so Regis could pick up his Black Friday deal on a laptop. We hate that store because it's so loud and stimulating. If we have business there, we order online and go right to customer service to pick up the item. Well, I had heard about (and now I have forgotten exactly what they're called) virtual glasses. I ask the kind helper if he would show them to me, letting him know I only want to see them, I don't want to buy them.

Regis always says taking me into a place like that is like taking a cave man on an airplane. 

Damn it. Now this stupid thing won't line up on the left margin. 

The universe is conspiring against me. Again.

So, you strap these babies onto your head. You attach your phone to the back side. 

And you can watch movies in three dimensions. 

Prepare to have your mind blown.

I'm sure the guy was rolling his eyes. Like the time I sat in front of a video game console for ten minutes playing the test patterns. 

Dude, you have to turn it on, he said.

Now I have spent sufficient time in virtual reality.

Frankly, I think I've spent enough time in real reality.

peace on saturday morning

I'm sitting in the leopard chair, drinking Wake the Dead. I have on my old flannel nightgown that I got for a song at the thrift store. It's an Irish import and quite sturdy so I figure I just got someone else to break it in for me.

Jay Unger is on the Echo. I love Jay Unger and Molly Mason this time of year. Such sweet and nostalgic music.

Woodrow has been sitting in front of the window watching doves and squirrels come to the feeder as the sky starts to turn pink in the west.

I got up early and did a crapload of dishes. I hate it when we leave dirty dishes over night and I have to wake up to them in the morning but we do it all the time so I should probably either make an effort to do it differently or just get over it. Ah, the secret to a happy life.

We watched an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives last night on the Food Network. Usually we just salivate over the wonderful dishes and rarely go to the trouble to find and save recipes because I hoard enough recipes that I never intend to cook. Food porn, you know.

But this one was intriguing. Butternut squash and apple hash with cranberry ginger chutney. Here's the link.  I think I'll make this one.

My kitchen needs some attention before the holiday cooking commences. Oven cleaning, inventory of spices, clean the silverware drawer, that sort of thing.

The word commences always reminds me of the time I called Gopher One to report that I was going to dig in my yard, a small rock garden. They acted like I was going to dig a 20-foot deep trench from here to Kasota. They wanted to know where the nearest intersection was so the ambulance would have access. They wanted to know the kind of vehicle that would be hauling away the excavated dirt. They wanted to know when the digging would commence. I finally started laughing and had to apologize and hang up. Good grief. I think they must have gotten a lot of calls like mine because I don't see those "Call before you dig!" ads anymore.

Moving on into the weekend. Plans include a visit to the pet store for bird peanuts, a stop at the pharmacy, maybe some flatbread and lefse making this afternoon. Major lefse making will commence tomorrow.

Post Script: Avoiding Facebook has been very good for my mental health.

writing and naps

I'm only writing another post to keep myself from taking a nap before noon. The only things I feel like doing lately are sleeping and eating. Regis asked me this morning where the bag of caramels had gone that were on top of the refrigerator waiting to be made into cookies. I had to admit, with some chagrin, that the remains were in the drawer of my night stand.

I went to yoga and I went for coffee with my yoga friends, two life-affirming things to do. I went for a walk with Gus and Regis. I am going for a walk with my friend, Joanne, later this afternoon.

Now, I am going to eat a few caramels and crawl into bed with my book.


Gratitude by Barbara Crooker


This week, the news of the world is bleak, another war

grinding on, and all these friends down with cancer,

or worse, a little something long term that they won’t die of

for twenty or thirty miserable years—

And here I live in a house of weathered brick, where a man

with silver hair still thinks I’m beautiful. How many times

have I forgotten to give thanks? The late day sun shines

through the pink wisteria with its green and white leaves

as if it were stained glass, there’s an old cherry tree

that one lucky Sunday bloomed with a rainbow:

cardinals, orioles, goldfinches, blue jays, indigo buntings,

and my garden has tiny lettuces just coming up,

so perfect they could make you cry: Green Towers,

Red Sails, Oak Leaf. For this is May, and the whole world

sings, gleams, as if it were basted in butter, and the air’s

sweet enough to send a diabetic into shock—

And at least today, all the parts of my body are working,

the sky’s clear as a china bowl, leaves murmur their leafy chatter,

finches percolate along. I’m doodling around this page,

know sorrow’s somewhere beyond the horizon, but still, I’m riffing

on the warm air, the wingbeats of my lungs that can take this all in,

flush the heart’s red peony, then send it back without effort or thought.

And the trees breathe in what we exhale, clap their green hands

in gratitude, bend to the sky.

From Line Dance (Word Press, 2008).

it ain't all silver saddles and sunday parades

I am tired of thinking and writing about sad things. I allowed myself a few minutes of social media this morning and sigh it sucked. A small piece of hope and a whole lot of bullshit and apocalypse. We'll be living in a van down by the river. It's hard not to be angry and disillusioned.

Then I got up to read that Leonard Cohen had died. He was one of my favorite song writers, right up there next to Bob Dylan. But here's how it is with famous people who die. A year from now I will have forgotten and I'll play his music and talk about him as if he were still alive.

Today, because I am a great believer in lists, I am going to make a list of things I can do when I am in the depths of despair which is pretty much a daily thing this week.

I'm going to start by sitting in a cardboard box and looking smug. Wahaha. Not really. WWWD, you know.

Here's a link to a post I wrote one time when things were bleak. Silver Saddles. It's going to be one of the strategies on my list. Resurrect old funny shit I've written.

birds and social media

I got up this morning in a better frame of mind. At least I took a shower, got dressed before noon, did three day's worth of dishes, and cleaned the litter box. Yesterday, it was every man, and cat, for himself.

This morning, I sat in the chair watching the birds. A flock of blue jays, five of them, have been actively feeding and squawking for a few days. I think several of them are young as the bigger ones are stuffing them full of peanuts and corn. They're loud and raucous but I like them. I also had three cardinals, two males and a female. We often have a family come to the feeder all winter.

I've decided to back away from social media for a while. Maybe just for today. Maybe everything but Pantsuit Nation. I can't seem to help myself from blurting out "bullshit" when I see it. I shared a post with my mom and some nitwit took it upon herself to argue with me. I was not looking for an argument, so I called bullshit, which I think was richly deserved. The problem is that it makes my blood pressure spike and the top of my head feel like it's going to blow off. This is not a pleasant sensation.

I made it through election night without drinking which was a major accomplishment. Hell, even Stephen Colbert had a glass of whiskey at the end of his show. I had to put on a flannel nightgown and get in bed at 8:30 to avoid temptation but it worked. I can't do that every night.

I made a list for Regis of everyone I am pissed at and recited it. It helped for a minute but not for long. Sigh.

Another beautiful but strange fall day. I don't remember a November when you could wear a t-shirt outside. There have probably been some, I just can't remember.

We're meeting a friend for lunch at a new restaurant in town. We always have some laughs together so we'll keep the election talk to a minimum. I wonder if this clenching in the pit of my stomach every time I think about it will go away soon.

I think I'm going to adopt the action plan of Woodrow. WWWD. What would Woody do? It's not like he is apathetic. He cares passionately about some things, like getting tuna with his lunch, being scratched under his chin at 4am, and going on the porch in the morning to watch the squirrels and birds. Beyond that, he maintains a pretty chill demeanor. I have much to learn from my cat.

a walk of good signs

 

I dragged my sorry ass out of bed about noon and went for a walk. I felt like sitting down every time I passed a place to sit down but I forged ahead, finally making it to a bench on Minnesota Avenue. My hair-do friend, Mary, came and sat for a while. I kept going and made it to the coop. I found beautiful yellow ginko leaves behind the laundromat. They had my favorite dark chocolate and caramel cookies and Ethiopian coffee at the coop. I found a book in their free library. Some folks I knew were looking for a table in the sunshine so I shared my table. We traded dog stories (and pictures) and a few laughs. As I was leaving, my friend Susie came by on her bike and gave me a hug. We talked about meeting for coffee one day. 

I am feeling a bit more balanced this afternoon but I'm still not ready to do the dishes.

despair

I went to bed at 8:30 last night, when things started looking bleak. I put on an old flannel nightgown and a pair of warm socks and I crawled into bed with my Ian Rankin book. 

I trusted Nate Silver and the others who said this couldn't happen, but there it was, happening, like the pick-up truck going down the street flying the giant Trump flag. It was about the time school got out and I wondered how someone so young could have so much hate and fear.

I woke up at 4, writing in my head. Trying to express in an articulate way, what I was feeling. It can't be done today. I can't get past two sentences without descending into bitterness and sarcasm and blame. I feel betrayed, not only by the electorate but by individuals. 

I have unfriended and unfollowed people on Facebook. I get a visceral reaction when I read the hateful untruths they post and I can't help myself. It's like finding something vile in the corner of your living room; you pick it up by the corner and fling it out the door. I won't have that kind of ugly in my life.

I've heard people say it's just politics and it shouldn't come between friends. This is more than politics. This is world view. This is equality and fairness and justice. This is personal.

My cousin in Florida sent this to me this morning.

Dear Auntie Shirley, Teresa, Helen, and Deb.I went to sleep and woke up at 2:30 to a devastating defeat.I am sad. I am speechless. I am broken-hearted that America is not ready to elect and accept a woman president. I am concerned about our rights as women.i am concerned that we have returned to being made to feel and to being treated like we are less that we are. I am concerned about rights of LBGT community. I am concerned about all those potentially uninsured. I am concerned about families that may be gathered up and worse, split apart and deported with the path to citizenship down the drain. I am concerned that the NRA now has an even stronger foothold in American politics and will continue to protect the rights of irresponsible gun ownership. I am concerned for the environment because now business and jobs will take priority over our delicate environmental balance and conservation of our natural resources. I am so disturbed that the American voters did not see the wrong in dismissing the attitudes of a man who has not only admitted but also boasted about sexual assault.  With love and solidarity from Ana and me

I appreciate and admire my friends who can be hopeful this morning. All the wonderful folks on Pantsuit Nation who have shared their stories. Paula, who remains hopeful and strong always through difficult times. They are helping me stay afloat. I'm getting other emails from friends who feel similarly distraught and angry and we are trying to find hope together. I will get there...just not today.

november light

It was a gorgeous November afternoon yesterday. Tiffany and I took the three kids (missed Zoey) to Minneopa State Park yesterday.

We drove through the bison area first. I didn't realize they would be so far in the distance. They could have been cardboard cut-outs for all I knew. Except that we did see some monster piles of what could only be poop from bison. For eight-year old boys, this is as good or better than the actual animals. I am only sorry I didn't get a picture of it.

There were signs all over to not get out of the car. I did scoot out once to get the camera out of the trunk. It would have to be a stealthy and quick bison to have noticed that.

Then we went to the falls area. I hadn't been there for a while and had forgotten about the steep walkways, the hundreds of steps, the nearness of the rushing water. I was very nervous and not very brave. I am also a rule follower so when the sign said no admittance, I turned around. Crowds of people were not so observant of rules.

The light through the trees and on the water was beautiful.

We had a good time, got some exercise, and stopped for a donut on the way home. Can't beat that for a Sunday.

Today, Monday the 7th of November, I am going to buy groceries in case martial law is declared after the election. Good grief. I'll say it again: I picked a hell of a time to quit drinking. Then I'll stop at Kohl's for my Suzy Snowflake costume and at the Thrift store for my election day pantsuit. You can't make this shit up, friends.

I hate daylight savings time. I don't know if it's ending or starting but I hate it. Why can't we just adjust to the light and dark as nature made it? I was asleep by 9 last night and awake by 4. I hate it.

There you go. All the news that's fit to print. See you in the bunker.

easy sunday

It's been a good weekend. Yesterday, Kathryn and I went to the Holiday Fare to gather stories. Mostly, people were not in the mood to sit and think...or write.

We had a good time, though. Lots of good conversations. Lots of folks stopped by to visit and many took a post card or an autumn leaf to write on at home. All is well.

It's funny. Being writers, we could sit and write for hours. It is not daunting. I suggested that if someone had a math table and asked us to sit down and do long division, I would panic, refuse to make eye contact, and scoot on past. Sigh. We have been done a disservice by some who taught us how to write. So sad. Math...that is a whole other subject.

As I was leaving yoga on Friday, Michele asked if I would be willing to dress up in a costume and play Suzy Snowflake at the community start-of-the-holidays event. Oh, yeah. I can do that. 

This afternoon, my plan is to go to Minneopa State Park with Tiffany and the three little ones, who are not so little anymore. I have to stop calling them that.

I'm going to make another attempt at dark chocolate caramel and pretzel cookies.

I woke up in the night with blazing pain in my hips. Not like I ran a marathon yesterday so it was frustrating. It took a long time to get back to sleep. My brain is fuzzy today.

Enjoy the weather...

next five days

My goal for the next five days is to keep from going batshit crazy. I have done precious little this year to help with the election so yesterday, in a fit of pique, I made a donation, ordered a t-shirt and a hat, and plastered posters all over my front door and picture window. Today, I am going to the thrift store to find a pantsuit for Tuesday.

It's hard to keep any measure of equanimity. Very hard. I picked a hell of a time to quit drinking although I'm not sure there is enough wine in Nicollet County to assuage this angst.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I organized my Thanksgiving binder last night and started on my grocery list. Tiffany took me out for a birthday lunch and we talked about the menu. She loves to talk about food, too. We are going with a side-heavy dinner...a turkey breast and maybe some meatballs, but face it, sides are what we live for on Thanksgiving. And left-overs. Remember my Thanksgiving parfait?

November 25, 2012
This has been my favorite meal this weekend. I call it the Thanksgiving Parfait. I put a spoonful of apple pie in the bottom of the glass, then dollops of potatoes, stuffing, yams, and green bean casserole. Top with cranberry sauce. No heating. Easy to eat while slumped over in a napping position. Toss glass and spoon into trash when finished. No dishes!

I had a good walking streak going then I subbed for five days and it all went to hell. I am trying to get that mojo back. I like to walk outside as long as the weather is so beautiful but will switch to the gym and swimming when the gales of November turn whatever it is they turn. Icy? Real lyrics: The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead, when the skies of November turn gloomy. I'd use a word with more dramatic effect than gloomy but I'm not Gordon Lightfoot.

Kathryn and I are going to the Holiday Fare tomorrow to gather stories for 600 Words. Peter got us a real banner so we don't have to use the green tarp from the farm supply store. Our theme is Home for the Holidays. We're moving up.

Must go listen to Polka til You Puke, our favorite radio show. Regis is sleeping and it won't be nearly as much fun but I'll have another cup of coffee, stare out the window at the birds, and wait for the sun to come up. Make it a good day.

chaos and magic

I have left my cranky pants behind for today! I chucked them into the laundry basket and for today's fashion statement, I have gone with the shiny purple tuxedo trousers with rhinestones on the seams. So much better for dancing in the kitchen.

I went to yoga in the morning, then for coffee. It is a spiritual experience and I am sorry that it's only twice a week. I have yoga dvds and all the equipment so there is no reason that I can't start my own daily practice at home. Plan to start today.

I am also set up to start a daily meditation course online. Is that too much?

I went to aftercare group last night and the counselor asked how I felt about "coining out" next week. You don't officially graduate from this group as that would signify an ending. When a person coins out, a medal goes around the group, everyone says something nice about you and wishes you well. I'm ready for that and all that it entails.

I spent some time this morning writing a thank you letter to the staff at my inpatient program. I know the stats for treatment look pretty dismal sometimes and I want them to know that I am doing my best to survive and thrive. And that I am grateful for everything every single one of them did.

It's been a longish road to four months of sobriety. I started with SMART in 2014 and struggled a lot but learned a lot, too. I did a lot of sobriety-related stuff along the way and I won't say that all of those things didn't work...I think they were stepping stones. They all have my gratitude.

I don't say I am an alcoholic anymore in group. I understand that there are people who do (or addict) for their own very good reasons. I say I am proud to be in recovery and for me that means I have not used alcohol for 117 days.

Vigilant but not afraid.

This will probably be my last recovery related post. I've done enough soul bearing and breast beating. My two lives have merged enough.

fat squirrel

There are several big, fat (thanks to me) squirrels who hang around our yard, getting into mischief, tormenting the cat, eating top shelf bird food, and generally being nuisances. They are fun to watch, though. There is one in the tree right now, making eye contact with Woodrow. He is sitting on a branch of the apple tree, staring into the cat's eyes. Just like this.

I just mentioned to Regis that he has quite the pessimistic demeanor today. He told me that it didn't matter that PHC was getting good reviews because it is a dying market. When I looked disturbed, he comforted me by saying I will most likely be dead before that happens. Oh, boy.

It's easy to get sucked into the rabbit hole of anger and pessimism. It's why I avoid the news...it colors my view of the world.

There's a robin sitting in my redbud tree. Now there's optimism.

fun run and disgust with politics

I love this event. Where else can you see a thousand people running down the street, most in costumes, many with either a dog or a baby carriage? It's a blast.

I took pictures and Facebook turned them into a video. Now I can't post the video here and I'm too lazy to get my phone and find the pictures again. Here's the link to the video.

I can't even begin to describe how tired and frightened I am of the current political scene. Aren't those assholes in the government supposed to work together? The Affordable Care Act...nobody wants to do anything constructive about it. They only want to blame the POTUS. What a horrible thing...wanting people to have health care. It's like communism. And those f***ing emails. Can we get past the emails? Can we put away the pitchforks and stop acting like loons?

The racism is truly painful to read about. Racism in a small school in North Dakota. Racism against Amish people.

I can't even write articulately about it. It's crazy and it's making me crazy.

I've worked really hard in the past months to avoid television ads. I don't read much about it on social media because it's easy to post a stupid meme that has nothing to do with the truth.

It's disgusting. I saw one photo of a rally where someone had a big poster of the woman running for POTUS with a target on her face. Regis saw a sign yesterday that said this woman should be in jail. Apparently some people think we live in a third world banana republic where they throw their opponents in jail after the election.

That's my rant.

my path, less traveled

I'm not sure how this will go. One of the things I am aiming for in my life is to merge my recovery life with my real life. This is an attempt to do that.

I have a blog on an online support site that I use. My posts there are recovery focused. My posts here tend to mention recovery from time to time (I sort of hate that word but that's another topic. I hate labels.) but most often are about something else.

I realized some time back that the more I thought about other people while I was writing here, the more difficult it became. It's what Natalie Goldberg calls the monkey mind. The critter that sits on your shoulder reading as you go and making judgments like this: That's not true. He might laugh at that. Don't say that. You could be pissing someone off. It makes it hard to write freely.

Hahaha! Like this.

I have been writing a blog post in my head the past few days. Couldn't gather my thoughts enough to get it down on paper but I think these two photos summarize it pretty well.
I have been walking a lot. Fall is my favorite season...and all the things that come with it. Cooler temps, dry breezes, no bugs, beautiful leaves, a fire on the patio in the evening.
I wrote a while back that I was starting to feel more connected but I couldn't describe why that was. It is definitely true and I am starting to realize the reasons. For the first two months of sobriety, I felt like an actor on a stage. I knew what to do and what to say but it didn't feel authentic. I felt like I had to think about every word. Now, things are coming more naturally. I am more relaxed and peaceful. It's a good feeling.
I felt a edgy for a while. Not afraid that I would start up drinking again, exactly, but like I wasn't sure this was real. Again, an actor on a stage.
I feel more comfortable now with my homegrown recovery plan and with where I am. I know it works for me and I'm not afraid to talk about it in my aftercare group. At first, I felt like I must be some kind of fraud or rebel and I was afraid to speak up when the leader said things like you can't have the same friends once you get sober that you had before. Oh, yes, sometimes you can. I feel comfortable admitting that I don't have a sponsor and that I have no plans to do the fearless moral inventory. I am confident. I am vigilant but I am not afraid.
We often have a small fire on the patio in the evening. I can stare into the flames and think about all that has happened in the last 100+ days. People puzzle me when they hear I quit drinking and they want to say they're sorry. Sorry I developed an addiction? Sorry I went to treatment? Sorry I struggled for so long? I'm not sorry. This all, painful as it was at the time, dangerous as it was, brought me to this point and I am loving my life and looking forward to my future. Not everyone gets there.

So. That is the blog post copied directly from my other blog.

Heading off to the gym. Then going for a walk with Regis and Gus. I made chili yesterday so dinner is easy. We subscribed to Netflix and I have a page of notes so I know how to start it up and choose something to watch. If not that, I have two books to read. I'm launching into a pile of Ian Rankin books for the winter months. Nothing better than a heated mattress pad, a big cup of coffee, and a good mystery.

dragonfly kind of day

I went for a walk with Regis and Gus this morning, just as the sun was coming over the horizon. If it had been up to them, they would have gone 30 minutes earlier but then we might have missed this great cloud formation. A dragonfly in the sky. A symbol of transformation. Perfect.

I went to yoga this morning, then to coffee at River Rock. I feel like I have been to a really good church. Good friends sharing that namaste thing, then dark coffee and oatmeal cookies. Perfect.

It's been a fabulous fall, so far. I went to the fall festival at Gustavus with Tiffany and the little boys. The whole bunch of us went to the pumpkin patch last Sunday then came back here for soup and birthday cake to celebrate Zoey's 6th birthday. I love those family things.

I can't remember what came in this box, maybe the flame genie. We gave our chimnea away because it was too much work and we are basically lazy. The flame genie lights up using wood pellets and has a nice flame going in about five minutes. Nice. We love to sit on the patio in the evenings as the sun goes down.

One day this week, the day before it turned cold, I went up to the Arboretum and walked around the paths, taking pictures. I like the kind of photography where I just snap what I find appealing. I don't care about the damn exposure or the rule of thirds. I guess I really don't care about getting better. It's how I feel about my writing, too. I am not too interested in a critique. I just like to do it. That day, I was into patterns and shadows and chairs and close-ups of colorful things.

I'll take a few hours this afternoon to do some of the tasks of daily living. Like cleaning the cat box and doing dishes. Not my favorites. I'll make short bread cookies and chai at the end. In celebration of this day.

100 days of wicked recovery

We have had a minor shift in the weather since yesterday. I was sort of inclined yesterday to do some projects in the house. You know, like the dishes and maybe some laundry. But the weather was so beautiful and I just had a feeling we were coming to the end of it so I went to the Arboretum instead.

I sat on the swing for a while, walked the paths, took some pictures, and stared at the clouds. It was warm and peaceful and perfect.

This morning, Regis went for a walk at 6am. He said he heard the wind and rain slapping the window and decided that I would probably not want to venture out. He was right.

I am going to write this post and then go to the basement to forage for a winter coat, hat, and mittens. My exercise options this morning are to go swimming or to walk, inside or outside. I am choosing outside. What better way to blow some cobwebs out of the mind that a cold and windy walk.

Tomorrow will be the anniversary of 100 days since I last let liquor touch my lips. Well. except for the accidental taste at the Hooligan's concert. Tim said that doesn't count. So, happy 100 days to me.

bad week for rodents we know

The other day I was tidying up on the patio. I found a garbage can filled with water and when I started to dump the water out, a fluffy tail floated to the top. Uh oh. I abandoned that task and reported to the dead rodent manager in our family. He investigated further and discovered a squirrel must have dropped in there and been unable to escape. I know squirrels are rodents, but it made me sad to think of the poor thing scrambling to get out of there.

This morning on our walk, we saw these beautiful cloud formations. I think they are called mare's tail clouds but none of the pictures I found on google were quite this nice. I love the frames around them.

As we passed one of the buildings on the edge of town, Gus got interested in a rat poison thing. We hollered to get him to leave it alone but he sure was curious. As we got closer, we saw a poor rodent (maybe a gopher but I don't want to start that controversy again) was stuck in it up to his shoulders. He had probably been eating the poison pellets so to liberate him would have done no good.  Damn. A very bad week for rodents we know.

We're having a very nice Sunday. Tom and Betty are coming for dinner. I made Cuban bread, we have ribs on the grill, and new red potatoes ready to roast in the oven. Happy October!

early saturday morning october first

I'm drinking my favorite coffee, Wake the Dead.

Gus has been out and has been fed. Woodrow has been fed and has had his treats. He reminded me by politely knocking the container off the counter and then giving me the evil eye. You dare not forget or make him wait.

I spent Friday night watching a program on television about tiny houses, then one (several) about people buying vacation homes on the ocean. Both could make you crazy. If you want to be reminded of the great diversity in human beings, this is a good place to start. 

There was a young couple with three kids under the age of six, and one on the way. They were planning to take their entire family in a house of less than 300 square feet on the road to tour the country. Everything she said, he responded with, "That would be a lot of work." That would have been enough for me to commit an act of verbal violence. They finally settled on a moldy old school bus that had been made into a camper where they would have to shower while standing in a small galvanized tub. I don't see this ending well.

The other show illustrated the other end of the spectrum. These people could not possibly live with black appliances or granite counter tops. I told Regis we would be fairly boring contestants on this show. Yup, that's fine. Yup, that's fine. No tantrums over paint color or flooring. I guess this is why HGTV doesn't come knocking.

It's October 1st. I thought it would take me the month of August to get my feet on the ground after my unfortunate incarceration. (I don't view it that way but the phrase tickles me greatly.) Turns out, it has taken me the month of September, too. I know people who have gone back to full-time work. One of my friends is leaving for Thailand next week to tutor monks and refugees, I am trying to get my dishes done every day and not take a three hour nap. Another case where I just have to lower my standards.

I have accomplished a few things but not much that shows. I have yard work to do, house projects to do, things to organize and sort and delete. Sigh. Maybe a tiny house wouldn't be such a bad idea.

It must be hunting season for some poor critters. I am awakened every morning to the sound of gun shots. A friend of ours, Marie, said to duck when we are on a walk. You never know when one of us could be mistaken for a goose. 

Bill Murray was asked what it's like to be him. I love his answer.

More stories to come

I drove to Canby on Friday to make lefse with Mom, a sister-in-law, and two cousins. We had a great time and lots of stories were told. I took a walk Saturday, past the places I remember from my youth. Like this one. 

I'm typing this on my phone at the music festival. I am not a one-finger typist, so this will be short. 

Rock Bend Folk Festival

It's been a wonderful weekend. The weather is perfect, the mosquitoes took a vacation, the music is great, and the park is filled to the brim with happy people. 

Yesterday, we collected almost twenty stories.  Some about water, but we had no rules. I think there is one entitled The Fart Heard Round the World. And so it goes. 

We'll be here another day, soaking up sun and music and magic. 

Testing email blogging

It's going to be a busy weekend with a road trip then Rock Bend Folk Festival where our project, 600 Words, will occupy a booth to collect stories. The weather forecast is glorious so what could be better?

I'm testing my ability to post pics and text via email so I can post "from the road"! See you on the inter webs.

update, as i promised

Update Saturday, September 3

Today is my 60th day of sobriety. 

I went to an inpatient program on July 5th and spent 30 days there learning about addiction, reflecting on my experiences before and after my addiction reared its head, sharing things about my life and sharing in the revelations of others, and developing a 30 day foundation of sobriety. It was a profound experience in many ways.

For the most part, sobriety has not been difficult for me, so far. It might get more difficult, certainly, but at this point I am grateful that I have had few urges to drink and those have been fairly easy to deal with.

Yesterday, I subbed in a special education classroom in the same school where I taught for most of my career. At the end of the day I went home feeling a little out of sorts and at loose ends. What do I do with a sober Friday afternoon? I settled on 30 minutes of hatha yoga with a DVD and then a nice dinner out with my husband. I had planned to make dinner but I thought the late afternoon being in the kitchen trigger might be just too much! After dinner we went for a walk as the sun was setting.

Exercise has been an important part of my recovery plan. I walk, swim, do yoga, and I think I might do some biking this fall.

Speaking of which, I learned that a recovery plan is often quite fluid and will not look the same at six months that it did at 60 days. Mine certainly has been fluid. It doesn't look anything like the one I developed in my last week of treatment. As I read about the ideas of massive action and overwhelming force that are required for success, I am developing my recovery plan based on what I think that means. Massive action = daily habits that support recovery.

After much reading, I have decided to use the five areas of holistic recovery to plan my recovery plan's daily habits:
1. Emotional health- Includes AA meetings, Women for Sobriety, family support, and my after-care program
2. Physical health- Includes exercise, healthy diet, regular check-ups with oncology and primary care to monitor over-all health and especially liver functions and red blood cells
3. Mental health- Includes volunteer activities, recreation and hobbies (writing, exercise, reading, cooking, education, music, and art
4. Social health- Includes contact with sober friends I have met through inpatient treatment, outpatient treatment, AA, and WFS as well as any family and friends who support me in my sobriety (Third Thursday Potluck, Friday afternoon friends, coffee group after yoga)
5. Spiritual health- Includes meditation and prayer, yoga 2-3 times/week, daily walks, journal and blog, happiness practices

Some categories are very broad and some activities overlap two categories. The thing I like about this is that I can use it for flexible planning of daily activities to support recovery and I can also use it as a way to assess throughout the day if I am doing things in each category. As the day winds down, do I need work on my spiritual health or my social health? Do I go for a walk or do I call a supportive friend?

In September, I can go down to two times a week at my outpatient group. The counselor told me I could pick the days, Monday, Tuesday, or Thursday but I think what I will do is make a monthly calendar so I can be flexible. If one week, I have Digital Photography Club on a Thursday, I can attend group on Monday and Tuesday. I don't want to skip a night of group with nothing to replace it.

This week, I wrote a relapse plan. I watched the documentary Memo to Self and learned that it's good, when I am strong, to plan for when I am weak. My relapse plan has a 1-10 scale of risk of relapse with ten being active drinking. At a couple places along the continuum, there are people to call and things to do. The relapse plan is not negotiable. If I am drinking, this is what we will do immediately. It's a little bit like an insurance policy.

I made it through some difficult things this week- the death of a friend, the serious illness of a child I know, working two days with the subsequent feelings from that, news of several relapses, and some health disturbances without drinking.

I am enjoying my sober life and I am grateful for each day.

P.S. And of course, I have binders for this information. And file folders, dividers, plastic sheet liners, charts, and checklists. It's what I do.

morning miracles

I've been going for walks regularly with Gus and Regis. Regis likes to be out the door so I have to set my alarm for 5am. Not a bad schedule since I have always enjoyed the early mornings and it helps regulate my sleep to have a schedule like that. Not to say that some mornings, I am not cranky at 5am. Just a little.

I love the first picture. The cloud bank that looks like mountains, the hazy sunrise, the geese. Beautiful.

The sunrises this past month have been spectacular. Looking out over the valley as the sun peeks over the horizon is a wonderful way to greet the day. It's hard to be cranky looking at this.

Last night we went out for a Mexican dinner with Tom and Betty. Good food and good company. We told a lot of stories and had a lot of laughs. We ended the evening by sitting on the deck at Westwood which was enjoyable until the mosquito battalions moved in. 

I subbed yesterday in the school where I used to teach. It's always a nice experience being in Joanne's middle school age classroom...until the middle school sense of humor kicks in re: farts. It happens every time. I always tell them I was raised with four brothers and I have heard enough fart humor to last me the rest of my life. And then I laugh.

I have walked with Regis sporadically over the past four years since we got Gus. Gus is a dog who appreciates his exercise which means that one or both of us much learn to appreciate it, too. Regis is dedicated to walking Gus...most days they are out two times for at least a mile each time. Sometimes I am lazy. I am not so fond of the same path every day so I am waiting for the bugs to subside and the paths in the woods to dry up so we can head out into the woods.

Our friend, Tom, died on Sunday at his home at 63. We were stunned and saddened to hear the news of Tom's passing. He and Mary owned Lone Star Barbecue in St. Peter, one of our favorite haunts. From the first time we went there, Tom and Mary remembered us, always came to chat, and made us feel welcomed. This afternoon, we'll attend the visitation and memorial service. Such a sad, sad thing.

Life is short. As Warren Zevon said: Appreciate every sandwich.

Make it a wonderful day, my friends.