A Week of Rediscovery

I have had one of those weeks...
I stopped to think this morning, "Why do I feel so crazed? It was a short week and I'm exhausted!" Tuesday was piano. Wednesday was grocery-shopping with the kids, dance class, and tutoring. Thursday was a visit from my little friend, Caleb, receipts for the insurance company, a play in Owen's room, and refinancing the house. Today, breakfast with Diana, two trips to Home Depot, more banking, puppy to the vet, building shutters...
Sigh.
This weekend still has a big garage sale, a junior high play and Children's church.
Well, there's the laundry list. It's a lot, but not so far off normal. (The kids took turns being impossible, though.) What I will remember about this week, however, are these two things:


1) I rediscovered the joy of Jane Austen (via Hollywood.) I watched Pride and Prejudice and then Sense and Sensibilities. I was just tickled and remembered devouring and loving Jane Eyre as a teenager. I'll look for Pride and Prejudice next time I'm at the library. The movie was really good, but I'll bet the book is even better!

2) I reconquered my fear of power tools and had a blast building some new shutters for my little house. Some time ago, I bought a miter saw for Mark as a gift. I think he despises it because it represents all the ways he does NOT want to spend his time. But, I wanted to use it. And, I was scared of it. I took a lot of woodshop in high school. I liked it. My parents influenced me to take a clock-making course in 9th grade and I built a grandfather clock. Still, that was over twenty years ago (how did I get this old????) Today reminded me how much I love to build things.

Moments like this are truly good for my soul. It is heartening to learn or re-learn something. It feels good to get my brain engaged. Aging is a lot less scary when you can find great enjoyment...and sometimes even wonder...in your ordinary days.

Big Tease!

I am due for my first chemo on Monday morning. With a life driven by sports, sales, and Catholicism, my dad's MO will doubtlessly involve attacking it, staying positive, and having faith.

The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan

Big Tease!

The book of the week...

Of Love and Other Demons by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

"He tried to teach her to be a real white, to revive for her his failed dreams of an American -born noble, to supress her fondness for pickled iguana and armadillo strew. He attempted almost everything except asking himself whether this was the way to make her happy."

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Garcia Marquez is most famous for One Hundred Years of Solitude and for winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1982. He has an amazing flair for writing the fantastic as if it were common and everyday... "magical realism", I think they've named it.

Some Days are Diamonds, Some Days are Coal

Today...coal.

I am in a monumental funk. Two of my three kids raked me over the emotional coals today. I want to appreciate their uniqueness and I don't want to hold it against them when they aren't like me, but it goes beyond that sometimes.

They treated me with such disrespect today. One of them seemed in it for the drama, the other truly seems to loathe me. I don't know if I am more angry or hurt, but I can say for sure that no response I offered was productive. (Can you tell I'm writing in generalities for fear that someday they read this and realize exactly what I'm talking about?)

I just finished reading this post-apocalyptic book tonight and it didn't exactly lighten my mood, so here I am thinking about what these kids would say about me at my funeral.

I wish it would read like Katie's recent ode that I found on my pillow...

To: Mama,

I love you

your helpful

your pretty

you like naps

your funny

your good at cooking

Sincerely Katie,

I'm a little afraid, though, that they are more likely to tell stories about my general crochety-ness and laugh at the ways that I threatened them and how I used to scream this special scream at them that ended all tirades because it hurt my vocal cords.

Note to self: Add to my will the clause, "No biological child shall be permitted to speak publicly at my funeral or memorial service if said child wishes to receive the inheritance described below."

My Son Cracks Me Up

This is what Owen and I do together. So far, this is the only common ground we can find. He draws and dictates. I provide design help and technical support!

Allergies Anyone?

HELP ME!!!

It seems that I've finally succumbed to seasonal allergies. They are pesky. I'm sorry I haven't been more sympathetic to others until now.

Please tell me, what do you do about medication?
So far, I've just taken the old-fashioned Sudafed or Claritin (generics, of course, but they are harder to spell!) Trouble is, I like to sleep at night. What the heck? Do I have to take something to be able to sleep, too?

Please weigh in...

Big Tease!

I was perusing a new-to-me blog http://www.sixlitchicks.blogspot.com/ and found a fun idea. You take whatever you are currently reading and randomly turn to a page. Choose a couple of sentences (without spoiling anything important) and cite them as a teaser for your fellow readers. Be sure to give the title and author.

Here we go!

"He had seen many dogs in the last two days, and he had tried to shut them out of his mind. They were pathetic, and he did not like to think about what was happening. Some of them looked starved; some of them looked too well-fed." p. 41

Stewart, George R. Earth Abides. New York:Ballantine Books, 1949.

My Model Pooch

It wasn't bad enough that I had to get a teeny dog (I said I hated little yappy dogs!), but then I had to go and get her precious little muzzle captured on film.

Can You Ever Go Home?

It is an eerie feeling for me to "go home." (By this, I mean to northern Minnesota, although HOME is St. Louis Park, really.) I have very mixed emotions when I go. The scenery is very comforting to me. The blasted stone that rises above the highway on the Iron Range. The rolling hills around Bemidji. The countryside makes me feel very at-ease. However, as soon as I roll into the residential areas, I practically feel queasy. The combination of the deteriorated buildings and my fairly fresh memories of growing up are a brutal combination. I have friends who grew up in the same town and have polar-opposite feelings about "going home." They don't seem to mind the five hour drive to spend the weekend. I have to psyche myself up to make the trek under the very best circumstances.

How about you?
What's it like to visit the town you grew up in?

Owen's Kindergarten Music Program

Selected numbers from a fabulous program at Peter Hobart on Friday, May 1--thank you kindergarteners, classroom teachers and Rhonda Jamison!

(Owen is in the middle row, approximately under the "K's" in the program title.)