I'll confess something I bet you didn't know about me. I tend to obsess. I like to be generous with myself and say that it's my control-freak nature that likes my life to be neat and orderly. (I said my life. . . not my home.) I am just arrogant enough to think that I'm smart enough that I can reason through pretty much any difficulty I have in life. Or, smart enough to know when to ask for help. (Sadly, I'm also pretty stubborn and even when I know I ought to ask for help, I'm still likely to wait long past when it would have been most helpful to make such requests.) The thing is, as much as I hate it, much of life cannot be reasoned out. No amount of thinking or manipulating or pouting can make the universe bend to your will.
I think the less generous characterization is that I hold a grudge like no body's business and I whine, a lot.
The last couple of years have been difficult, and largely beyond my control. Sigh, lovely control.
But, at the same time, there have been real bright spots. And, more often than not, I am reminded that I have some really wonderful friends. People who will jump up to offer help. Humans who have tolerated my whining. People who are polite enough to act like they are laughing with me, rather than at me. Folks who have been more than generous with me.
I do appreciate it. And, I will try, in the coming year, to focus more on what I have than what I cannot control.
Showing posts with label waxing poetic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label waxing poetic. Show all posts
Friday, December 30, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
10 years ago today
I remember standing in my college apartment one night and watching the Berlin Wall come down. I had a photo, cut from a news paper, of a lone person standing in front of a line of tanks in China on my dorm wall. I was unexpectedly home the day of the Oklahoma City bombing.
On this morning, ten years ago, I was in a hotel in a small town a couple hours drive north of here. I was attending a meeting of a state-wide non-profit on whose board I served at the time. We hadn't started the day's meetings yet and were lingering in the hotel lounge over breakfast pastries and coffee. The hotel had a large-screen tv turned to a morning news show, which no one at my table was truly paying attention to and I was reading the paper.
I remember wondering aloud if Micheal Jordan would make yet another return from retirement when the news show flipped over to the twin towers. The reporter was in front of the towers and there was smoke coming from one of the high floors. The reporter was saying that they could not confirm it, but that there was a report that a plane had flown into the building. At that moment, they assumed it was some horrible accident.
We watched for several minutes . . . wondering what had really happened, how could it have happened. I remember seeing another plane entering the picture of the two towers and at that first moment, I assumed it was a plane that had been sent to investigate . . . since the building was too tall to observe it any other way. And, then the plane approaching, the plane I assumed was there for help, flew into the second building.
After that, it was surreal. It seemed unlikely it was an accident, but the full reality of what had happened wasn't yet sinking in. We watched the utter pandemonium for a bit, and then the group I was meeting with decided that we should go ahead and get our meeting started, do a fast version of our agenda, and leave as early as possible.
We had really only just started meeting when someone came into our meeting room and announced that a plane had flown into the Pentagon. At this point, it we truly understood that someone was declaring war on our country.
We all returned to the lounge to watch the television coverage unfold. We were there when the news program and the world saw the buildings come down. We saw the death and destruction and confusion live with the rest of the nation. There were several people in our group, and not with our group, who had loved ones in New York and Washington. I remember bringing a cup of coffee and a box of tissues to one man sitting at a table, alone. I sat with him and offered a listening ear. I had crisis intervention training from my days volunteering with the crisis line in college. I remember him asking me how it was I was helping rather than panicking.
I'd called the Old Folks and told them to turn on their tv, the country was under attack. I called the Phenom and learned they already had the TV in their office on.
One of the women in our group had a husband who was suppose to be at the pentagon that day, and she couldn't reach him on the phone. One woman in our group had a sister who worked in the financial district, but she was able to reach her on the phone.
Our meeting was cancelled. The woman was still unable to reach her husband, so we decided she needed to go to her mother's home rather than hers. We found two people who had driven together and one agreed to drive the woman's car and the other the woman to her mother's home a couple hours away. I drove straight to the Phenom's office. I just remember absolutely needing to be with the human I love most in this world.
I don't know if I thought the rest of the country was soon going to be targeted or what, but I just knew I needed, more than anything, to be with the Phenom.
Later that night, after watching coverage over and over again of the crashes, and hearing more and more of the truth be unveiled, I finally went to bed. I was exhausted just from the raw emotions. Shortly after I went to bed, Phenom came into the bedroom and said that the tv news had a new shot of the twin towers crash . . . I got up and they had film of the other side of the building . . . of the plane actually crashing into the building. I had nightmares of that scene for months. Every once in a while, that scene still haunts me now. I still find the loss overwhelming. The stories of people who died, who didn't make it out, of people who made sure a weaker person did make it out.
And, I remember the horrifying realization that declaring war on someone was going to be the only option our country would consider. I'm a peace loving monkey, and the prospect that war was soon to come deeply saddened me. It still does.
On this morning, ten years ago, I was in a hotel in a small town a couple hours drive north of here. I was attending a meeting of a state-wide non-profit on whose board I served at the time. We hadn't started the day's meetings yet and were lingering in the hotel lounge over breakfast pastries and coffee. The hotel had a large-screen tv turned to a morning news show, which no one at my table was truly paying attention to and I was reading the paper.
I remember wondering aloud if Micheal Jordan would make yet another return from retirement when the news show flipped over to the twin towers. The reporter was in front of the towers and there was smoke coming from one of the high floors. The reporter was saying that they could not confirm it, but that there was a report that a plane had flown into the building. At that moment, they assumed it was some horrible accident.
We watched for several minutes . . . wondering what had really happened, how could it have happened. I remember seeing another plane entering the picture of the two towers and at that first moment, I assumed it was a plane that had been sent to investigate . . . since the building was too tall to observe it any other way. And, then the plane approaching, the plane I assumed was there for help, flew into the second building.
After that, it was surreal. It seemed unlikely it was an accident, but the full reality of what had happened wasn't yet sinking in. We watched the utter pandemonium for a bit, and then the group I was meeting with decided that we should go ahead and get our meeting started, do a fast version of our agenda, and leave as early as possible.
We had really only just started meeting when someone came into our meeting room and announced that a plane had flown into the Pentagon. At this point, it we truly understood that someone was declaring war on our country.
We all returned to the lounge to watch the television coverage unfold. We were there when the news program and the world saw the buildings come down. We saw the death and destruction and confusion live with the rest of the nation. There were several people in our group, and not with our group, who had loved ones in New York and Washington. I remember bringing a cup of coffee and a box of tissues to one man sitting at a table, alone. I sat with him and offered a listening ear. I had crisis intervention training from my days volunteering with the crisis line in college. I remember him asking me how it was I was helping rather than panicking.
I'd called the Old Folks and told them to turn on their tv, the country was under attack. I called the Phenom and learned they already had the TV in their office on.
One of the women in our group had a husband who was suppose to be at the pentagon that day, and she couldn't reach him on the phone. One woman in our group had a sister who worked in the financial district, but she was able to reach her on the phone.
Our meeting was cancelled. The woman was still unable to reach her husband, so we decided she needed to go to her mother's home rather than hers. We found two people who had driven together and one agreed to drive the woman's car and the other the woman to her mother's home a couple hours away. I drove straight to the Phenom's office. I just remember absolutely needing to be with the human I love most in this world.
I don't know if I thought the rest of the country was soon going to be targeted or what, but I just knew I needed, more than anything, to be with the Phenom.
Later that night, after watching coverage over and over again of the crashes, and hearing more and more of the truth be unveiled, I finally went to bed. I was exhausted just from the raw emotions. Shortly after I went to bed, Phenom came into the bedroom and said that the tv news had a new shot of the twin towers crash . . . I got up and they had film of the other side of the building . . . of the plane actually crashing into the building. I had nightmares of that scene for months. Every once in a while, that scene still haunts me now. I still find the loss overwhelming. The stories of people who died, who didn't make it out, of people who made sure a weaker person did make it out.
And, I remember the horrifying realization that declaring war on someone was going to be the only option our country would consider. I'm a peace loving monkey, and the prospect that war was soon to come deeply saddened me. It still does.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
End of an Era
Back in the beginning of time, when I first followed the Phenom to this little town, I struggled. Finding a job was hard. I knew it couldn't be just any job, it had to be a career type job or no one would take me seriously. But, for months, I couldn't even get an interview.
One day, I decided ENOUGH! and resolved to leave. I knew I didn't want to leave the Phenom, but I felt like I'd run out of better choices. I kinda suspected that if it were meant to be, the Phenom and I'd sustain a distance relationship until the timing was better, or not. But the reality was that I'd spent years on my education and only a few months on Phenom.
Then, that very afternoon I'd resolved to leave, one of Phenom's brand new colleagues called and invited me to have lunch with her. She was new in town, I was new in town, we had similar outlooks on life, it seemed natural to be friends. So, I put my plans to leave on hold for another week. In that week, two jobs were advertised that were perfect for my special qualities. I scored interviews for both jobs, and was offered both jobs.
If not for that one, well timed invitation, I might have left here, never married the Phenom, and not had the life I have.
Today, I said good-bye to that friend who had such a pivotal and unintended impact on my life. She's taken her dream job on the west coast, and will probably never find herself in our little town again.
There was a time when the three of us gathered every Friday night at one of the three places in town that served beer. There was a period where she was my only other friend here beyond the Phenom.
The enormity of her leaving has caught me a little off guard.
One day, I decided ENOUGH! and resolved to leave. I knew I didn't want to leave the Phenom, but I felt like I'd run out of better choices. I kinda suspected that if it were meant to be, the Phenom and I'd sustain a distance relationship until the timing was better, or not. But the reality was that I'd spent years on my education and only a few months on Phenom.
Then, that very afternoon I'd resolved to leave, one of Phenom's brand new colleagues called and invited me to have lunch with her. She was new in town, I was new in town, we had similar outlooks on life, it seemed natural to be friends. So, I put my plans to leave on hold for another week. In that week, two jobs were advertised that were perfect for my special qualities. I scored interviews for both jobs, and was offered both jobs.
If not for that one, well timed invitation, I might have left here, never married the Phenom, and not had the life I have.
Today, I said good-bye to that friend who had such a pivotal and unintended impact on my life. She's taken her dream job on the west coast, and will probably never find herself in our little town again.
There was a time when the three of us gathered every Friday night at one of the three places in town that served beer. There was a period where she was my only other friend here beyond the Phenom.
The enormity of her leaving has caught me a little off guard.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Perspective
This weekend I visited the Old People. The Old Woman, as she was settling me into her guest room, pointed out the framed photos of me on her art table. She asked me if I remembered being that young.
I looked at my younger self. Hair shiny and bouncy, skin bright and glowing with youthful innocence, a smile that spoke of enthusiasm and adventure for life, and a heart that was open and unscathed.
Then, I looked in the mirror and saw a very different reflection. Hair touched with grey from worries. Skin that carried stories good and bad. A smile that could be mistaken for cynical. And a heart that has known loss and heart ache.
But, for all the differences in reflection, I'm so much happier at this age.
I looked at my younger self. Hair shiny and bouncy, skin bright and glowing with youthful innocence, a smile that spoke of enthusiasm and adventure for life, and a heart that was open and unscathed.
Then, I looked in the mirror and saw a very different reflection. Hair touched with grey from worries. Skin that carried stories good and bad. A smile that could be mistaken for cynical. And a heart that has known loss and heart ache.
But, for all the differences in reflection, I'm so much happier at this age.
Monday, December 06, 2010
"Just an any ol' kind of day
the kind that comes and slips away, the kind that fills up easy my life's time." (It's a line from one of my favorite Harry Chapin songs. I could only find some dude covering the song on youtube, so no link.)
I was listening to this song when I wrote my application packet for the job I have now. I played it over and over while working. I love the song because it is both bittersweet but hopeful.
Today, was one of those 'any ol' kind of days' . . . I slept in, called the Old People, grocery shopped, tormented the Phenom, did laundry and more laundry. All those little things that fill up days and make days to come more comfortable.
For the full lyrics, click HERE.
I was listening to this song when I wrote my application packet for the job I have now. I played it over and over while working. I love the song because it is both bittersweet but hopeful.
Today, was one of those 'any ol' kind of days' . . . I slept in, called the Old People, grocery shopped, tormented the Phenom, did laundry and more laundry. All those little things that fill up days and make days to come more comfortable.
For the full lyrics, click HERE.
Monday, August 02, 2010
And then, a bird crapped in her tea
I went to see a concert last night with an old friend. This friend is someone who knew me "when" and as another friend put it . . . lived to tell the tale. The performer was Joan Baez. Joan Baez was a favorite of the grad student. Apparently, hearing her songs over and over in the behavior lab made an impression, because I was surprised by how many songs I knew the words to or recognized.
The moment of levity from the evening was when an over head bird dropped crap and it landed with a sploosh in her tea. And, in her reaction, she commented that she knew people would write about the concert and the one thing we'd all focus on was that one moment.
Even better than the concert was the chance to catch up with a friend I've not seen in a life time . . . rather two lifetimes . . . those of his children.
And still, I'm always a bit amazed when humans I consider my contemporaries are actual, functioning adults. I have a sneaking suspicion it means I might be "grown up" too. shudder.
The moment of levity from the evening was when an over head bird dropped crap and it landed with a sploosh in her tea. And, in her reaction, she commented that she knew people would write about the concert and the one thing we'd all focus on was that one moment.
Even better than the concert was the chance to catch up with a friend I've not seen in a life time . . . rather two lifetimes . . . those of his children.
And still, I'm always a bit amazed when humans I consider my contemporaries are actual, functioning adults. I have a sneaking suspicion it means I might be "grown up" too. shudder.
Sunday, June 06, 2010
The Big Sappy
I admit it. I'm a big ol' sap. I cry at old movies. I choke up over really sweet love stories. I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
Every couple has their own history and significant dates. For us, the most significant date isn't actually the anniversary of us taking this little dog and pony show legit . . . or even when the state in which we got that piece of paper made our union actually legal. No, our most significant anniversary is that of our first date. Which happened 21 years ago today.
I'd known the Phenom as a student. We occasionally, but not terribly often, would run into each other as we darted across campus. Each time, we'd end up stopping and chatting . . . sometimes for quite a while. As the Phenom was nearing leaving school and joining the big, scary world . . . we'd say "we should get together for coffee sometime."
Just a couple of months before the Phenom left our little campus, I was waiting around to meet a student for a study session. It was an early summer, and very hot. So, being near the building where the Phenom had an office, I popped up to chat and part take of the free air conditioning.
The Phenom was out, but the office mate acted as if I were suspicious, so I left a note suggesting coffee. I honestly never believed I'd get a call back. But, a friend of the Phenom found the note and goaded and prodded until the Phenom called just to shut him up.
We met for coffee. Coffee turned into several hours of talking. Talking turned into a stroll around town (and pinched flowers from a public garden) and the stroll turned into dinner and that dinner turned into happily ever after.
I think we work because we are temperamentally well suited. We tolerate each others' little insanities well. And, we really do have a good time together on a regular basis. And, we drink. Sometimes, quite a lot.
It's been a long haul . . . but I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
Every couple has their own history and significant dates. For us, the most significant date isn't actually the anniversary of us taking this little dog and pony show legit . . . or even when the state in which we got that piece of paper made our union actually legal. No, our most significant anniversary is that of our first date. Which happened 21 years ago today.
I'd known the Phenom as a student. We occasionally, but not terribly often, would run into each other as we darted across campus. Each time, we'd end up stopping and chatting . . . sometimes for quite a while. As the Phenom was nearing leaving school and joining the big, scary world . . . we'd say "we should get together for coffee sometime."
Just a couple of months before the Phenom left our little campus, I was waiting around to meet a student for a study session. It was an early summer, and very hot. So, being near the building where the Phenom had an office, I popped up to chat and part take of the free air conditioning.
The Phenom was out, but the office mate acted as if I were suspicious, so I left a note suggesting coffee. I honestly never believed I'd get a call back. But, a friend of the Phenom found the note and goaded and prodded until the Phenom called just to shut him up.
We met for coffee. Coffee turned into several hours of talking. Talking turned into a stroll around town (and pinched flowers from a public garden) and the stroll turned into dinner and that dinner turned into happily ever after.
I think we work because we are temperamentally well suited. We tolerate each others' little insanities well. And, we really do have a good time together on a regular basis. And, we drink. Sometimes, quite a lot.
It's been a long haul . . . but I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Brief, Warm Fuzzy Moment
This morning, I had to be up horrifyingly early to drive two hours to a meeting that lasted much too long and then face a two hour drive in rush hour traffic home. Now, I am a morning monkey. I never hit the "snooze" button on my clock. I usually can be up, showered, dressed, and out the door in 30-40 minutes in the mornings. But, I also really really love to sleep. I mean, really love to sleep.
If you'll recall, not long ago, three little grey puffballs of kittens showed up on our driveway. The next day, their momma took them to a new, hopefully safer, hiding place. We still kept an eye out for them, because kittens kinda rebound on our porch.
Last night, they showed back up. Under our cars, again.
In the sort of act I've come to expect but it still melts my heart, The Phenom got up this morning when I did, to check to see where the kittens were and help me, if needed, herd them out from under my car. I just love a human who feels such a protective responsibility for critters . . . even the freeloaders.
If you'll recall, not long ago, three little grey puffballs of kittens showed up on our driveway. The next day, their momma took them to a new, hopefully safer, hiding place. We still kept an eye out for them, because kittens kinda rebound on our porch.
Last night, they showed back up. Under our cars, again.
In the sort of act I've come to expect but it still melts my heart, The Phenom got up this morning when I did, to check to see where the kittens were and help me, if needed, herd them out from under my car. I just love a human who feels such a protective responsibility for critters . . . even the freeloaders.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Getting back on the horse
YAY for old friends.
Just when my wallowing in my own navel lint couldn't be more pathetic, a friend I've known since my days of being an unshaven, rough around the edges sort of monkey popped up and asked me to join them in attending a concert this summer.
What's even better is that this friend has proposed that we meet up before the concert for some QT rather than dash in, kiss each cheek, see the concert, and jet away. A real, honest heart to heart talk and visit. And, here's the real heart warmer . . . my friend says that the company is more important than the activity.
So nice to have friends. So nice to have the means to be able to hang with them when you need a break from your work-a-day grind.
Now, to find my red marker so I can start marking off days on the calendar.
Just when my wallowing in my own navel lint couldn't be more pathetic, a friend I've known since my days of being an unshaven, rough around the edges sort of monkey popped up and asked me to join them in attending a concert this summer.
What's even better is that this friend has proposed that we meet up before the concert for some QT rather than dash in, kiss each cheek, see the concert, and jet away. A real, honest heart to heart talk and visit. And, here's the real heart warmer . . . my friend says that the company is more important than the activity.
So nice to have friends. So nice to have the means to be able to hang with them when you need a break from your work-a-day grind.
Now, to find my red marker so I can start marking off days on the calendar.
Friday, January 01, 2010
Whew!
I knew I'd been neglecting the blog for a while now, but I didn't realize it's been nearly a month since I last gazed upon my navel publicly. Sigh. I'd like to say I've been living the life . . . but in reality, I've just not really been into it. I'm all funkafied.
But, even though this was probably one of my more surreal holidays, I am feeling a tad bit less like my navel is the most fascinating thing ever. I know I've whined a lot (A LOT) in this past year. I didn't get my way on a lot of things, and that just isn't how I like to think my life goes.
And, I lost some precious things along the way.
But, despite all that . . . I have to say I'm still living a pretty damned charmed existence. I have amazing friends still. Perhaps not exactly like what I lost, but in many ways, more amazing.
The Phenom is terrific. Honestly, I'd be stark raving mad by now if not for the sweetness and affection and support of the Phenom.
I'm surrounded by humans and critters who not just love me. . . but let me know they love me. How many people can say that?
So, rather than vowing to eat more hot krispy kremes this year . . . I think I'll try to see beyond my own navel a bit more.
But, even though this was probably one of my more surreal holidays, I am feeling a tad bit less like my navel is the most fascinating thing ever. I know I've whined a lot (A LOT) in this past year. I didn't get my way on a lot of things, and that just isn't how I like to think my life goes.
And, I lost some precious things along the way.
But, despite all that . . . I have to say I'm still living a pretty damned charmed existence. I have amazing friends still. Perhaps not exactly like what I lost, but in many ways, more amazing.
The Phenom is terrific. Honestly, I'd be stark raving mad by now if not for the sweetness and affection and support of the Phenom.
I'm surrounded by humans and critters who not just love me. . . but let me know they love me. How many people can say that?
So, rather than vowing to eat more hot krispy kremes this year . . . I think I'll try to see beyond my own navel a bit more.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
I blame math
I admit it. I am a control freak.
I offer to drive because I like being in control of the vehicle and destination. I like being the lead duck. I like having a formula or equation. I like figuring out the solution.
Much of my "human life" has been spent truckling along my own little path. I generally assume that I don't make that much of an impact on the planet. (okay, part of that is by design so I can continue to claim the element of surprise when I and my kind take over) I have a quiet little life that is pretty much designed to be with in my control, more or less.
Not to say I can't handle the unexpected. It's just that over the years, I've always been pretty good at controlling that which I could and thus being able to roll with the unknown.
Like traveling. I love to travel. I love the planning. I like arriving at the airport early, having a treat and cup of coffee. Arriving at my destination in the manner in which I expected to. . . and then just letting the adventure happen. I'm very good with the logistics.
This past year, it's all gone to hell. I feel that not much has been within my control. I've had several losses, have more coming, and all of it is beyond my control.
Which sucks.
And, I blame math for convincing me that there is, in fact, and equation for every problem.
I offer to drive because I like being in control of the vehicle and destination. I like being the lead duck. I like having a formula or equation. I like figuring out the solution.
Much of my "human life" has been spent truckling along my own little path. I generally assume that I don't make that much of an impact on the planet. (okay, part of that is by design so I can continue to claim the element of surprise when I and my kind take over) I have a quiet little life that is pretty much designed to be with in my control, more or less.
Not to say I can't handle the unexpected. It's just that over the years, I've always been pretty good at controlling that which I could and thus being able to roll with the unknown.
Like traveling. I love to travel. I love the planning. I like arriving at the airport early, having a treat and cup of coffee. Arriving at my destination in the manner in which I expected to. . . and then just letting the adventure happen. I'm very good with the logistics.
This past year, it's all gone to hell. I feel that not much has been within my control. I've had several losses, have more coming, and all of it is beyond my control.
Which sucks.
And, I blame math for convincing me that there is, in fact, and equation for every problem.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Traditions
The Phenom's mother died about 11 or so years ago. She was an interesting woman. She was very money savvy. But she was from a small town, a child of the depression, and a girl at a time when it wasn't really expected that girls be able to do more than basic math and read and write.
She dropped out of school at 16 because she decided that she would make just as much working in the factory as she would in a year and a half when she graduated.
She wanted a large family, but only managed to have the Phenom. I've observed that in some ways, it was if she and the Phenom were of the same soul.
The Phenom sometimes regrets that his mother's cooking is gone forever. I observed her make biscuits, but I'll never make mine taste like hers. I can cook pot after pot of pintos, but they just won't ever live up to the memory. I don't try to compete. Sadly, I don't have any of her recipes. But, that could be a good thing . . . I never have to worry that I followed the recipe exactly and it still didn't quite meet expectations.
I did get her biscuit bowl. It is an inexpensive bit of stoneware with a blue acorn pattern. It is cracked on one side. But, it has made thousands of biscuits.
Tonight, I made a batch of MY biscuits in the bowl. And, after dinner, I wrapped the biscuit pan in a clean towel and set it on the stove for the morning. Just the way the Phenom's mother did. They may not taste the same, but I think he knows the respect is there.
She dropped out of school at 16 because she decided that she would make just as much working in the factory as she would in a year and a half when she graduated.
She wanted a large family, but only managed to have the Phenom. I've observed that in some ways, it was if she and the Phenom were of the same soul.
The Phenom sometimes regrets that his mother's cooking is gone forever. I observed her make biscuits, but I'll never make mine taste like hers. I can cook pot after pot of pintos, but they just won't ever live up to the memory. I don't try to compete. Sadly, I don't have any of her recipes. But, that could be a good thing . . . I never have to worry that I followed the recipe exactly and it still didn't quite meet expectations.
I did get her biscuit bowl. It is an inexpensive bit of stoneware with a blue acorn pattern. It is cracked on one side. But, it has made thousands of biscuits.
Tonight, I made a batch of MY biscuits in the bowl. And, after dinner, I wrapped the biscuit pan in a clean towel and set it on the stove for the morning. Just the way the Phenom's mother did. They may not taste the same, but I think he knows the respect is there.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Sappiness abounds
One of the aspects of my life with the Phenom I appreciate most is even after a shocking number of years (I am far too young and cute to have been in an "adult" relationship this long . . . I am . . . SAY IT!!!!) together, I still learn things about him.
Recently, I was forced to attend a work function which required me to bring a "beverage to share." On a whim, I bought a six pack of yoo-hoos. Only one was consumed, so I brought the rest home to discover that the Phenom LURVES yoo-hoos. Personally, I'd never had a yoo-hoo before meeting the Phenom, but I'd always assumed that they were purchased for my amusement . . . never for the Phenom's.
Also, despite the reputation of being grouchy, the Phenom actually gets a lot of happiness out of relatively simple things. The Phenom is an avid tennis player. Recently, there was this notion that perhaps a wooden Borg racket should be sought out and purchased. Today, two such rackets were delivered. I came home to find the Phenom in our dining room, gazing upon the new trophies, and supremely pleased.
The fact I fried up a pound of the "good bacon" just made the day even better to the Phenom.
No wonder I'm just wild over this particular human.
Recently, I was forced to attend a work function which required me to bring a "beverage to share." On a whim, I bought a six pack of yoo-hoos. Only one was consumed, so I brought the rest home to discover that the Phenom LURVES yoo-hoos. Personally, I'd never had a yoo-hoo before meeting the Phenom, but I'd always assumed that they were purchased for my amusement . . . never for the Phenom's.
Also, despite the reputation of being grouchy, the Phenom actually gets a lot of happiness out of relatively simple things. The Phenom is an avid tennis player. Recently, there was this notion that perhaps a wooden Borg racket should be sought out and purchased. Today, two such rackets were delivered. I came home to find the Phenom in our dining room, gazing upon the new trophies, and supremely pleased.
The fact I fried up a pound of the "good bacon" just made the day even better to the Phenom.
No wonder I'm just wild over this particular human.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
70 YEARS?!!!
So, world war two started 70 years ago. I feel like I've been living with wwii most of my life. The Phenom has a particular interest in wwii and the holocaust. . . our home is littered with books on the subject. The old people were shaped by the war.
The Old Woman was just shy of her 18th birthday on this date 70 years ago. Her mother had recently died and she'd been sent to live with a much older, spinster sister. She was fairly miserable. Miserable enough that she eloped with the Old Man just 3 days after her 18th birthday. She went home from school at the holiday break to tell her father she was married, but her father was murdered before she had the chance to speak to him.
It was an uneasy and frightening time for her, personally and in the world. By the time the bombs were dropped, she had three young children.
The Old Woman once told me that she was in favor of the bombs. This shocked me, being that she is a peaceful sort. She explained that the times were scary, and she knew she didn't want her children growing up under a dictatorship. She also knew she wanted the war to end before her children were old enough to be sent off to fight. She says experiencing the fear changes the way you think about it.
The combination of the very academic conversations in my home with the influence of the Old People . . . world war two is never really 70 years behind us. And, it's one of the reasons I'm such a peace loving sort of monkey.
The Old Woman was just shy of her 18th birthday on this date 70 years ago. Her mother had recently died and she'd been sent to live with a much older, spinster sister. She was fairly miserable. Miserable enough that she eloped with the Old Man just 3 days after her 18th birthday. She went home from school at the holiday break to tell her father she was married, but her father was murdered before she had the chance to speak to him.
It was an uneasy and frightening time for her, personally and in the world. By the time the bombs were dropped, she had three young children.
The Old Woman once told me that she was in favor of the bombs. This shocked me, being that she is a peaceful sort. She explained that the times were scary, and she knew she didn't want her children growing up under a dictatorship. She also knew she wanted the war to end before her children were old enough to be sent off to fight. She says experiencing the fear changes the way you think about it.
The combination of the very academic conversations in my home with the influence of the Old People . . . world war two is never really 70 years behind us. And, it's one of the reasons I'm such a peace loving sort of monkey.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Romance lost
Years ago, I would chop all the ingredients for my homemade salsa by hand. I'd dip the farmer's market ripe tomatoes into boiling water and then into ice water so they'd peel easier. I would finely chop onions and jalapenos and cilantro. I'd mix it all together lovingly. It was time consuming, a real treat in our home, and not made very often.
Then, I scored a food processor off the clearance table at Williams-Sonoma.
Suddenly, salsa could be a weekly event. I even was willing to used canned tomatoes. It came with two work bowls, so we could have hot red and mild green salsas at the SAME TIME.
It was wonderful and convenient. But, I couldn't help but worry that possibly I was losing some of the craft and love of the hand chopped. I missed the romance of spending an afternoon making salsa The Phenom would gobble down. I missed it for just a few minutes. The Phenom gobbles down the machine made stuff too.
But, I was reminded of the touch of romance lost when I heard this story on NPR this morning. I understand the need for more and more accurate measurements of weight for the important work of science. But, I couldn't help but think that perhaps we were losing some of the romance of the story of the original kilogram. . . and the faith we put in its' weight.
Then, I scored a food processor off the clearance table at Williams-Sonoma.
Suddenly, salsa could be a weekly event. I even was willing to used canned tomatoes. It came with two work bowls, so we could have hot red and mild green salsas at the SAME TIME.
It was wonderful and convenient. But, I couldn't help but worry that possibly I was losing some of the craft and love of the hand chopped. I missed the romance of spending an afternoon making salsa The Phenom would gobble down. I missed it for just a few minutes. The Phenom gobbles down the machine made stuff too.
But, I was reminded of the touch of romance lost when I heard this story on NPR this morning. I understand the need for more and more accurate measurements of weight for the important work of science. But, I couldn't help but think that perhaps we were losing some of the romance of the story of the original kilogram. . . and the faith we put in its' weight.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Life Lessons
I'm back from my mission to check in on the Old People. The Old Woman is out of the hospital, and apparently gave them quite a bit of trouble. I think the exact phrase a nurse used, when asked if she were dying, was that she was "too willful to be dying." I like that. I'm pretty sure that's the shape I'll be in one day too.
There is a fair amount of mental confusion which is troubling, and because the Old Man has been so lovingly taken care of by the Old Woman for so many years, he just isn't really equipped to do what needs to be done to make sure she doesn't harm herself.
I fixed quite a bit of food. Meatloaf, mac and cheese (with the crispy buttered bread crumbs on top) and sauteed chicken breasts and easy to pull together salad makings. I also left a batch of oatmeal cookies (the kind she made for me when I was a young monkey. Anyone who took driver's ed with me will remember them because she sent a batch in every day.) and a peach pie.
I was sad and weepy on the drive home. I intentionally stayed away from sad music. While I was making dinner one night, she tried to reassure me that it will be okay if she dies. I tried to reassure her back that although we love her, don't want her in pain, but we also don't want her to fight dying on our account. Probably the hardest conversation I've ever had.
I realized on the drive home that the people I've gathered in my life are people who are unique and their characters inspire me to be a better "human." The Old Woman has such a good moral compass, even when it doesn't jive with the popular opinions. She makes me want to be more giving of myself, more patient with humans. The Phenom is a tremendously good judge of character and unbelievably generous. The Phenom helps me not rush head long into trusting people with no foundation. And, The Phenom makes me want to be more generous to humans.
I think that in this time of facing the known unknown, I really only want people around me who lend light to my life. You may have seen the comments in the previous post about being kept in the light . . . you will never know how much I treasure that sentiment. Thank you. I'll follow your example.
There is a fair amount of mental confusion which is troubling, and because the Old Man has been so lovingly taken care of by the Old Woman for so many years, he just isn't really equipped to do what needs to be done to make sure she doesn't harm herself.
I fixed quite a bit of food. Meatloaf, mac and cheese (with the crispy buttered bread crumbs on top) and sauteed chicken breasts and easy to pull together salad makings. I also left a batch of oatmeal cookies (the kind she made for me when I was a young monkey. Anyone who took driver's ed with me will remember them because she sent a batch in every day.) and a peach pie.
I was sad and weepy on the drive home. I intentionally stayed away from sad music. While I was making dinner one night, she tried to reassure me that it will be okay if she dies. I tried to reassure her back that although we love her, don't want her in pain, but we also don't want her to fight dying on our account. Probably the hardest conversation I've ever had.
I realized on the drive home that the people I've gathered in my life are people who are unique and their characters inspire me to be a better "human." The Old Woman has such a good moral compass, even when it doesn't jive with the popular opinions. She makes me want to be more giving of myself, more patient with humans. The Phenom is a tremendously good judge of character and unbelievably generous. The Phenom helps me not rush head long into trusting people with no foundation. And, The Phenom makes me want to be more generous to humans.
I think that in this time of facing the known unknown, I really only want people around me who lend light to my life. You may have seen the comments in the previous post about being kept in the light . . . you will never know how much I treasure that sentiment. Thank you. I'll follow your example.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Well earned
I'm going on VACATION next week. I have EARNED this vacation. So earned it.
I've had a hard spring. I'm hoping that this trip will be cathartic as well as serve as a bookend to this long, icky trudge through this past spring.
It started with my birthday trip. It ended on an icky note. Although it was one of those "trips of a lifetime" adventures, I ended going home wondering what had hit me. My traveling companion and I had a tiff unlike anything we've ever had. I cried while driving home and spend a week or so licking my wounded ego and deciding how exactly I was going to deal with it.
Before I got my chance, my friend announced that she'd been having an affair (at least one) for a couple of years and that she was abandoning her child and husband for her boyfriend. She was angry that the people who know her best didn't immediately embrace this move. As a friend said, she can't spend literally years telling us what a slacker and alcoholic he is and then expect us to embrace their relationship.
I decided that my role was to be the honest friend. The friend she has always said that she appreciated because I could cut to the central issue of a matter and be honest. That wasn't appreciated. Not at all.
I find myself pondering how it is that things and the person I would have previously bet my own life on how much I KNEW her could be utterly the opposite of what I knew. I've had to wrap my brain about the fact that things I knew in my gut weren't reality at all. Talk about turning your life upside down.
On top of all this personal angst, I have worried about the economy like everyone else. I've worried not just about keeping my own job, but also insuring that ESK kept her job too. That's a lot of pressure.
But, it appears that we are going to end the fiscal year with two nickels to rub together. We survived this far.
And, today I was reminded that I have a comfortable home filled with music. I have a deeply satisfying relationship with the Phenom. And, I have friends all over the place . . . and friendships in various stages of development. I may never truly replace the friend I lost this year, but I'm not without sources of love and support and sympathetic ears.
I guess the balance sheet totals at the bottom. There were losses, but also gains.
I've had a hard spring. I'm hoping that this trip will be cathartic as well as serve as a bookend to this long, icky trudge through this past spring.
It started with my birthday trip. It ended on an icky note. Although it was one of those "trips of a lifetime" adventures, I ended going home wondering what had hit me. My traveling companion and I had a tiff unlike anything we've ever had. I cried while driving home and spend a week or so licking my wounded ego and deciding how exactly I was going to deal with it.
Before I got my chance, my friend announced that she'd been having an affair (at least one) for a couple of years and that she was abandoning her child and husband for her boyfriend. She was angry that the people who know her best didn't immediately embrace this move. As a friend said, she can't spend literally years telling us what a slacker and alcoholic he is and then expect us to embrace their relationship.
I decided that my role was to be the honest friend. The friend she has always said that she appreciated because I could cut to the central issue of a matter and be honest. That wasn't appreciated. Not at all.
I find myself pondering how it is that things and the person I would have previously bet my own life on how much I KNEW her could be utterly the opposite of what I knew. I've had to wrap my brain about the fact that things I knew in my gut weren't reality at all. Talk about turning your life upside down.
On top of all this personal angst, I have worried about the economy like everyone else. I've worried not just about keeping my own job, but also insuring that ESK kept her job too. That's a lot of pressure.
But, it appears that we are going to end the fiscal year with two nickels to rub together. We survived this far.
And, today I was reminded that I have a comfortable home filled with music. I have a deeply satisfying relationship with the Phenom. And, I have friends all over the place . . . and friendships in various stages of development. I may never truly replace the friend I lost this year, but I'm not without sources of love and support and sympathetic ears.
I guess the balance sheet totals at the bottom. There were losses, but also gains.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Kinda sad
Sources say that CBS news is updating Walter Cronkite's obituary for possible use in the near future.
Seeing war coverage on the evening news with Walter is one of my earliest memories.
Seeing war coverage on the evening news with Walter is one of my earliest memories.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Lost in the Fire
So, I have this very good friend. Probably one of the closest, best friends I've ever had. I've shared nearly everything with this friend over the past several years. I counted myself lucky to have known this person . . . that somehow the world was better because she was born.
My friend has a wide circle of friends. She is the social butterfly. She likes to have a good time and she likes to see other people have a good time. And, oh ho the good times we've had. We've spent many a night emailing/texting/chatting. We call each other when times are hard. We have listened and cried and laughed together. We have intuitively known when the other needed a shoulder or a laugh.
I watched my friend grow up. I got to see her move from being an unsteady but curious young adult to a confident woman to a mother. I was one of the people she called within the first hours of her child's life.
I worried about and for her when she went through a depression last year. I breathed a sigh of relief when she started to return from those dark days. I encouraged her healing. When she found strength in yoga, I started practicing so that I would understand. When she had illness in her family, I read about it so that I'd know understand better what she was facing.
Recently, she told me of a friend of hers who had gone through a bad break up. Her friend referred the personal items that got left behind in the hasty move-out as things that "got lost in the fire."
It is the perfect description of those once cherished items that you suddenly can live without because of changed circumstances.
Today, I was lost in the fire.
My friend has a wide circle of friends. She is the social butterfly. She likes to have a good time and she likes to see other people have a good time. And, oh ho the good times we've had. We've spent many a night emailing/texting/chatting. We call each other when times are hard. We have listened and cried and laughed together. We have intuitively known when the other needed a shoulder or a laugh.
I watched my friend grow up. I got to see her move from being an unsteady but curious young adult to a confident woman to a mother. I was one of the people she called within the first hours of her child's life.
I worried about and for her when she went through a depression last year. I breathed a sigh of relief when she started to return from those dark days. I encouraged her healing. When she found strength in yoga, I started practicing so that I would understand. When she had illness in her family, I read about it so that I'd know understand better what she was facing.
Recently, she told me of a friend of hers who had gone through a bad break up. Her friend referred the personal items that got left behind in the hasty move-out as things that "got lost in the fire."
It is the perfect description of those once cherished items that you suddenly can live without because of changed circumstances.
Today, I was lost in the fire.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Knows me well
It's valentine's day in the Bongo household. I think this just might be my favorite of the human holidays. Chocolate. . . lovey-dovey talk. ahhhhh, brings out the sap in me.
And, today, I'm loving that the Phenom knows me so well. The Phenom got me the perfect gift.
I was gifted with this 30 pound volume:
What's more, The Phenom ordered it from a shop in NOLA, thus further warming my little monkey by giving a local bookseller (and not amazon) some business. Ah, L'amour, l'amour!
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