Trumpet Vines & Hummingbird Grace

Along with probably everyone in the western world, I am engaged in a lifelong struggle between feeling exhausted from being too busy to feeling useless because I'm not doing enough. It can happen over weeks or sometimes in a matter of hours.

It actually feels kind of stupid to complain because as my husband says, all of the time, "it's all good." But I'm tired. The last month hasn't even been unusual and probably a lot like everyone elses life. Much has been fun--like vacation. Some was a little sad--a daughter back at school. Some was annoying--because we moved there are new schools and new lives that obviously need some fine tuning. So there's the hours at the elementary, the new junior high and the loads of cash I sent with my daughter to the high school.

This evening with myself on my mind I went and sat on the back porch. All I can think about is how little I've done and how much still needs to be accomplished.  I say a little prayer asking for help, especially with prioritizing my life. As I finish a hummingbird flies up to within six inches of my nose.

Now, I swear I am not exaggerating when I tell you he proceeded to cock his head and look at me quizzically. He continued to hover perfectly in a way that made him look as if he was standing on air. Then, while I barely had time to process that the hummingbird was actually staring at me, another came up, hovered momentarily, as if curious to why his friend wasn't devouring trumpet vine nectar, and then chased the first away.

They merrily flew away up the canyon. I merrily went in the house and forgot the gloom!

One of the many hummingbirds I
discovered in our trumpet vine today.

Lazy or Smart?

You know you're smart when:

You hire your oldest child to be your nanny!

You let each child have a night to cook.

You let each child do their own laundry.

You let each child clean the kitchen for a week on a rotating basis.

You move into a condo!

This summer has been NIIICCCEEE! and I am not LAZY!!!

You know you're in trouble when:

You get your haircut and nobody notices and then you have to point out that, yes, indeed you did get your hair cut, and then you ask if they like it, and someone who will remain anonymous says, "you didn't cut all the damaged parts out," and then you just start to cry.

You spend all summer reading the "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" books and you have to stop yourself from saying someone's first name, then insert curse word starting with F, then the person's last name every time you greet someone. (Very socially unacceptable behavior.)

You can't walk out to your car after a workout without hobbling.

You are exercising by climbing stairs at the local high school football field and a man, who looks to be 70, runs past you.

You moved three months ago and only 1/2 of the boxes are unpacked. Then your daughter asks you where the Hunger Games is and you point to a storage room full of 30 boxes of unpacked books.

You want to see a movie every night instead of unpacking. If you're not seeing a movie then have to battle very large urge to drive away--very far away.

Registering for Junior and Senior high costs more than registering your car!

You have to take a nap every day at three.

Your ten year old stays up later than you.

It's only the end of July and your daughter is leaving in a week to go back to school and the other one is not far behind.

I know I say this often--but how does time move so fast.

How we adopted out our murderous cat to our next door neighbor and acted like we were doing her a favor. . .

I promise this is my last animal blog for a long time!

As I mentioned a couple of months ago--we moved! We moved into a condominium which meant that we couldn't take all of  our pets. We could take one and only one. I don't know how it happened but as of last January we had 5 pets. Smoky of course (may he rest in peace), two more cats (we call them soft cats because they have fur as oppossed to Smoky) and two Basset Hounds.

We all know what happened to Smoky (sign), but I am sure you are wondering what happened to the rest, but first I must tell you how we developed into a petting zoo.

 In 2001 we had no pets, but after 9-11 we were sad and for some reason that equated to wanting a dog. We did some research--we knew we weren't Labrador Retriver people (we had one before and he had much more energy than all of us combined). We wanted a peaceful dog that wanted to just sit around and be petted. For some reason we thought that meant Bassett Hounds.

                                                                   Windsor relaxing

We brought Windsor home--named after the British Royal  Family who she really resembled--and realized Basset Hounds had a few other traits. First of all they have an incredible sense of smell and love to follow it wherever it takes them. They are not particularly mellow--in fact unless they get overweight they have lots and lots and lots and lots of energy. They will do anything for food, like; figure out ways to climb garbage cans in a single bound, climb onto kitchen counters, eat diapers (not sure it's food, but they seem to think so). They are a little stubborn and difficult to train. They also shed--which I can handle, but they have really oily fur and let's just say they are odiferous!! After we purchased I did more research and one of the articles rated the breeds for intelligence from 1-100, with one being the most intelligent. Basset Hounds were rated 97th!  A year or two later we adopt a friend's Basset because they couldn't keep her anymore.

Since I am the primary care-giver (kennel cleaner, pooper scooper, dog walker, dog washer) It's been a love/not so much love relationship. But I have to say they are very sweet! I'm sad to say we didn't turn out to be the best dog owners. The week we moved we used an agency that just places Basset Hounds and the dogs seemed incredibly happy there. My son and I cried for a  week though.

Now for the murderous cat--

We moved to Holladay during a year with a rat infestation so my husband decides we should get a cat. He left one day and came home with not one but two of the most beautiful cats ever. We name the grey and white haired one Rogue and the black and white one Storm (geeky mutant fans that we are).  We kept them inside for the next few months to acclimate and then we let them out and we find out that Rogue is a bona-fide killer!  He brings home rats, mice, robins, an occasional squirrel--usually decapitated, yes, decapitated and often eviscerated. This beautiful cat was the ultimate preditor and skilled killer.         

                                                                                                                    Rogue looking murderous
             

One day the Rogue disappears. We canvas the neighborhood. Put out flyers and then I send my son door to door with his sad eyes to try and find our cat. He goes next door and with tears in her eyes asks if they have seen our cat. Our lovely neighbor looks at him and says, oh yea, I didn't know this was your cat! She had him in her home for a whole week! She sadly turned him over.  Interestingly enough over the next two years the cat was kidnapped by her several more times--we just learned to go there first. Her response every time was "he just seems so happy here"--locked in her house with the yummy food only cat spoilers buy!

Then we have to move and we have the brilliant idea--let's give her our murderous cat. He will be well fed and happy, although he may never see the outside again. She looked at us like we were the kindest people ever. Her husband brought over a pound of delicious chocolates. It made me feel guilty to have deprived her of Rogue for so long.

We now have one cat, Storm. He is shy and polite--the perfect condo pet.

Smoky The Cat

How do you say the last four months sucked without really saying they sucked?  My mom does not like me saying that word. So let’s start again, the last four months blew they really blew.  Okay, she wouldn’t like that either. Let’s just say it has been a deep dark winter, one that I will measure all deep dark winters of the future against and hopefully none will compare. Life being what it is—I am sure other winters will outdo this one, but let’s hope for the best.

The first thing that happened was during a warm spell in January our hairless cat, Smoky, disappeared. (Right after I put up his picture of the week on the blog—ironic!) We searched and searched. He being hairless makes him unfit for the out of doors, but we hoped because it wasn’t freezing at night that he would be okay. He had spent two other nights outside and had fared okay. Anyway, we canvassed the neighborhood, put up flyers, called shelters, put him on KSL.com and still no Smoky.  As it became a cold and snowy January again, I began to hope that he was stolen, at least he would be safe.

                                                                                  
                                                     (Smoky tired from reading)

I just need to get something straight. I am not a pet person. I find them like someone else’s toddlers, cute but annoying.  Smoky of all the pets I've had was the most annoying. He was always trying to sneak outside! He would dash in front of you down the stairs, like he was trying to trip you. Because he was a grey hairless cat he had grey oil that he secreted that would make anything he sat upon slightly dingy (I had to wash whatever he slept on). He constantly pestered the cats downstairs. The lack of hair also made him an anatomical lesson to all my children.  He walked on any keyboard you happened to be typing on.  Because of his lack of hair he loved burrowing into blankets. We have all sat, laid and stepped on him. He was always under foot.

Despite all of that and probably because of it—I loved Smoky. He loved me too. His skin was like warm suede and he had a great purr. He was so ugly you couldn’t stop looking at him. As soon as I realized he was more than missing I couldn’t talk about him without crying for months. We did finally find Smoky and he had passed away outside. This has been the first time I even felt like I could write about him, being the weird cat lady I have become.  Enough about the cat!

(Smoky gnawing on a rib bone)

Harder things have happened this winter and spring, but for some reason it’s easier to write about the cat.

Life is Loud

I know it seems as if I've dropped off the map and I guess I have. Sometimes all you can do is live and that doesn't include anything extra--just the eating, sleeping, kids, work, and church kind of thing. No exploring feelings, making the bed, writing a chapter, or enjoying a long bath (okay I still seem to find time to do that) kind of thing. Just getting by with the bare minimum. Sometimes life shouts and everything else has to take a back seat.

In fact right now I am procrastinating what I really should be doing--packing up because we're moving Saturday. The moving is a really good thing and overdue. It is much more sustainable! I am into all things sustainable. Our mantra at work is sustainable, sustainable, sustainable and it has gotten into my bones. Where we are moving I can walk to the grocery store, restaurants, and the bus practically picks up my kids at the front door for school. Here's a funny fact--my current kitchen uses 16 lightbulbs (and that doesn't include under-counter lighting) I think the whole new house has less than that and it isn't even a dark house (Disclaimer: this may be a slight exagerration). It's smaller, but not too small and has a view!

So between winter sleepiness and getting ready to move I haven't had any extraneous thoughts--at least not the useful kind. A writer needs extraneous thoughts to write. I find life profoundly unsatisfying without those fleeting, wispy, luminous companions. I am going to find those thoughts, rip them out of the air and plant them back into my life where they belong. If life shouts I think it's time to take a deep breath and yell right back.

February, oh February My Nemesis

Well, my relentlessly upbeat quotes from William James didn’t save me from February. Every year I get a mild case of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). I say it’s mild, because I don’t usually need medication and it takes the form of hibernation. I just don’t want to do anything. I want to sleep, eat and watch TV. That’s it. This year it was no worse than usual—but somehow February slipped away in a gray blanket. It didn’t help that February was dim—not with our usual temperature inversion but with Northwest like weather, temperate with light rain showers and gray skies.

This is my excuse for not blogging, SAD, even though I didn’t really even feel sad, just tired. I haven’t had a really bad February in a long time. A bad February is when I find myself crying and sighing all over the place. 

Someday I will beat February into submission.

Brief February Catch-Up

Sundance

The first noteworthy event of February happened in January. That was the Sundance Film Festival. I have a couple of friends that do a little Sundance sightseeing every January and they invited us along. It was silly, cold and fun. It was fun to watch people try to spot celebrities but not act like they were trying to spot celebrities. (I am included in this group.) I saw about a thousand character actors that I couldn’t quite place—but knew I’d seen before.

My favorite star spot was Ron Livingston—the man for handsomely disgruntled thirty-somethings (now 40-somethings—I just looked him up and we are the same age! Joy!). I watched Office Space again in his honor.

The Cake Fight

My daughter wanted to have some friends over after the Valentine’s Dance to decorate cakes. She then advised us to put down a tarp because she thought it might get “messy.” We had at least twenty-four layers that were to make 8 cakes. My husband and I stayed downstairs to kind-of keep an eye on things. Once they were busy decorating we went upstairs for 10 minutes and suddenly things got very noisy. My husband went downstairs just to check on things, because really how bad can things get in 10 minutes. When he came back up his face was ashen and he said, “You are not going to believe this.” I went downstairs and it was beyond words.

The whole floor was this bad!

They had the cake fight to end all cake fights. Good kids from good homes—went beserk for 10 minutes. The floor was so slippery with about twelve pounds of butter cream frosting that we kept slipping and falling. There were frosting footprints in our carpet. The kids were so dirty they had to shower off before they could get into their cars. Our family, my daughter and a few of the perpetrators spent the next 24 hours cleaning. I counted the hours we all spent that first twelve hours after the fight and and it was 43 man hours.  It took another week to completely de-grease everything. Yesterday I was cleaning and I found    chunks of cake behind our blinds. It’s like an Easter egg hunt from Hades.   Face disguised to protect the not-so-innocent

There you have it--Winter reduced me to star stalking and cleaning. 

William James Quote of the Week

Quote #2

“If you believe that feeling bad
or worrying long enough will change
a past or future event,

then you are residing on another
planet with a different reality system.”

Do you like how William looks today. I thought he might enjoy a more colorful reality system.

I love this quote--I seem to like to live in the future and I often regret things I've said in the past. Hopefully I can just live in the present.

I also use it often with my kids because I have a couple of great worryers.

It also makes me think that William James was a secret fan of science fiction and he too may believe in the existence of a parallel universe. Justifying my view that the world has gone awry!

P.S. Warning!! I am going to be relentlessly upbeat until winter is over.