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Emotion, Home, Life, Music, Texas

Ridin’ the Storm Out

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“Ridin’ the storm out, waitin’ for the thaw out…” 
– REO Speedwagon – 
It’s a beautiful, bright and sunny day in the Texas Panhandle. Not a cloud in the sky dampens the horizon. Yet, here I sit procrastinating. The storm of change is coming and I should be preparing for its onslaught, but I’m not. I’m in a state of fear and denial. I’m like the proverbial ostrich sticking its head in the sand. However, like the bird, my butt is sticking up in the air and I’m sure I’m about to take one for the team with no lube, if you know what I mean.  

My spousal unit tells me I don’t have to carry the burden alone for what’s going on at home. I’m cynical and jaded right now. I feel like I do.  I have to-do list after to-do list made up.  They grow longer by the day and there’s not enough hours to tackle even a portion of them. So I suppose that’s why it’s easier to sit and do nothing than to get off my ass and do “something.” But as the deadline for having all this stuff done grows near, the self-loathing for not having anything done sooner will grow to biblical proportions and I’ll be kicking myself in the hind-end that already took one. Double-whammy.

How does one prep for change when one doesn’t want things to change in many regards, but does in others? How does one know if they are doing the right thing or the wrong thing? How does one make decisions that alters their life, but also the lives of so many people around them for good, bad or indifferent and those people don’t have much say? It frustrates me on a level that’s almost unbearable. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing and there’s at least one person I need help from that’s is unwilling to do so. It’s frustrating beyond the tolerable and I try to shove that fed-up part of me in the back of my mind, but it niggles at me from time to time and I just want to break like a squall line dumping rain across the plains.  (Long run-on sentence. Sorry.)

I wish I could say more as to what’s going on, but I’m not at liberty right now. Just know that my life is upside down and I don’t like the view. I’ve lost my rose-colored glasses. If I can just ride this storm of change out and wait for the thaw out, things will be okay. But right now, I’m feeling the outflow boundary, the winds kicking up and the rush of air blowing across my face. I see the lightning on the horizon and hear the distant rumbles of thunder. The storm is coming and as it hits I will just pray for the best. 

Okay… going to suck it up and get to work. Tally-Ho!

Health & Fitness, Home, Life, Stress

Waiting to Exhale

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I tried yoga once but took off for the mall halfway through class, as I had a sudden craving for a soft pretzel and world peace. 

~Terri Guillemets



In the past few weeks, I have been under a stress load that mechanical engineers would have a hard time finding a logical answer to the equation of “how is it  possible to hold that kind of load.” 

Life changing news has come about which I’m not at liberty to share at this time, I’m 100 pages into my first full-length novel and self-doubt and worry is running amok, my mother’s health is troublesome, my daughters are starting to take test runs from the nest and other things are going on between home and work that have me wondering if I’m made of elastic and what the ultimate breaking point is.  I think my stress load can be equated to the load per unit area or the force (F) applied per cross-sectional area (A) perpendicular to the force as shown in the equation below:
 
Now, the best part of this whole thing is I just probably sounded really smart here and I have to thank Engineersedge.com for their insight for the formula above. I could honestly try to figure it all out, but the left side of my brain, the analytic side, has a very hard time with math and physics. I’m a right-brained person overall and if I think about it at length, it gets complicated and I’d probably short circuit. I try not to think about it.  Darned analytics. Now I’m thinking about it. 

So back to yoga. 

It’s something not-so-new I’m working on. I’m seriously trying to decompress and work on some kind of Zen state I really want to achieve. I seriously doubt I will achieve that calm that surpasses my understanding; however, if I can reach a point where I can focus on the breath and the body and shut the world out for however long, I will have achieved something. Eh?

Now… back to downward dog… Which to tell you my mental state always makes me think, “Bad dog, good dog,” while I’m waiting to exhale… I gotta work on that. 
Home, Life, Uncategorized

Gasping for Air

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For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
~Steve Jobs ~

When I was younger, I was impulsive – some would say rash, maybe thoughtless. I often made decisions by the seat of my pants and while some of that was sheer teenage rebellion, some of it was the deep seeded desire to do something “more”,  want something more, BE something “more.”  And the good Lord knows I got burned more than once. However, I learned through age and experience, grass isn’t always greener on the other side. It’s still grass and it may be growing over a septic tank. So I tempered that part of me, have learned to make sound decisions and as middle age has pretty much arrived, have found myself in a conundrum. 

Change – It’s rearing it’s ugly head and I’m oh-so-not ready for it. 

Empty nest syndrome is just around the corner; darling hubby’s job situation is about to make some really drastic changes affecting me and the kids and my elderly mother’s health is starting to decline – which also has a bearing on some other things going on. 

I feel out-of-control. And the more I try to control things the more out-of-control I feel.  I wasn’t anticipating on having my entire universe turned into scrambled eggs in one quick motion. I’m frankly, terrified. Too many changes are happening too quickly and decisions are going to start happening back to back to back and I’m honestly not prepared for them. 

Hopefully, the next six months will be much easier than my mind is preparing me for. However, while I’m generally an optimist, I’m also a realist. Like a fish out of water, I’m going to be gasping for air until I make it to a new tank.  

Family, Home, Life, Music, Organization, Scrapbooking

…The Time of Your Life

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“Yes. I would like some cheese with my whine. Now be a doll, pour me a glass and cut me a slice of sharp cheddar.” 

Last weekend, my youngest, darling daughter graduated high school. (Insert cheers and clapping here!)
After 13 years of schooling, she’s emancipated from the world of high school and all that entails. I’m proud of her, the young woman she’s become, and can’t wait to see what’s in store for her future.  (Oddly enough Greenday’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” is on right now.)

J graduated Friday night and then we had a graduation party Saturday night and an “impromptu” family reunion Sunday night.  Both parties at my little house. I went to work Monday morning thankful I didn’t have to have yet another party. I was “partied out.” I think I’m getting old.

With J’s graduation came “The Scrapbook.” OMG… It’s STILL. NOT. DONE.

It was SUPPOSED to be done by last Sunday. It’s not. Saturday (at party #1) I received more items people wanted in the scrapbook. I asked some of these folks for the items in the first part of May. (A month ago.)  I told them I needed them by like May 20th or so. I got them June 8th. I love my family.  But it’s not their fault it’s not done. That’s on me.

I don’t always procrastinate. I honestly thought “I had more time.” You see, I swore I wasn’t going to do this year what I did last year working on K’s book – a last minute decision with something I had ZERO experience doing. (J and I spent a total of 160 hours in two weeks to get it done.)  I promised myself I would start early. I did. I started in early May. So why it’s not done on time… I didn’t work as hard or as fast as I should have… I simply ran out of time / out of money? Heck. I’m not sure. It’s very close. I’m lacking (by my best calculations) 12 pages.

This weekend, I’m going to be finishing up “The Scrapbook,” a summation of J’s first 17 years of life and as she’s my youngest, my last… it’s hard to do. Maybe that’s the reality of why it’s not done. I’m just not ready for my baby to be “grown up.”

(Cue Music…)

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it’s worth it was worth all the while

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life. 

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life. 

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life.

~Green Day~
Home, Life, Organization

No Pain, No Gain?

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I’m pretty sure that when whoever coined the phrase, “No pain, no gain,” they were referring to getting in shape. However, tonight I’m pretty sure that applies to cleaning house today for approximately 11 hours. 

My accomplishment – a deep clean on the kitchen and I’m not even done yet. 

I’d like to say this was just a moseying around the kitchen and doing some dishes, taking a break then playing around on Facebook. Not. So. Much. 

For whatever reason under the sun, no one had done dishes all week. I got pissed. And when I reach a certain level of pissed, I clean. I’ve been that way my entire adult life. 

So the dishes got done, the counters were all scrubbed down, the outside of the cabinets were all scrubbed down and then were taken care of with Old English Oil, the walls were scrubbed down… well… I think you get the picture. 

There is; however, one thing that vexed me beyond belief I was trying to take care of and didn’t manage – replacing the lightbulbs in the fridge. 

Son of a purple dragon. 

My darling hubby went out and bought me 3 new bulbs. Three. Because THREE of the four are out. 

I put one in. No workie. I checked the filaments. They’re all good. Perplexed, I tried the bulb in the socket in the freezer. No workie. I left that bulb there and went to pull the other burned out bulb (#3) from  the fridge side and found someone spilled something down the back of the fridge that has hardened like cement. 

For all that is holy… really? Can you not clean up the mess you spill? Is it that freakin’ difficult? 

I slammed the fridge door shut; I got out the parsley cleaner,  Windex (TM), Lysol (TM), etc… and started scrubbing the bathroom which too disgusted me. 

I’m sitting here writing now at 0101 because after the long, long day, I took a hot shower in the somewhat cleaner bathroom and I’m having to let my hair dry a bit before I get in bed. (Plus no other guild members are on Warcraft right now and that’s kind of a bummer.)

Why?

Unexpectedly, the fruits of my womb had my “other daughter from another mother” spend the night and I can’t run the hair dryer. That and if I wake darling hubby, I will probably regret it more than I do trying to move my back or legs at the moment. 

So yes. This is not my usual post. I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled programming a bit later. (After I get some sleep and finish cleaning the bathroom if I can actually move…tomorrow.) 
Europe, Home, Life

About The American Dream

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“Life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement” regardless of social class or circumstances of birth…
– James Truslow Adams 1931 –
(Photo of million dollar property in Malibu.)

When we think of achieving the American Dream, we often think of those who have accumulated material goods – as the dream is often embodied by home ownership or fancy cars or fashion. We might think of those who have risen the career ladder to prominence in a company or business. The American Dream is that of freedom of choice and abundance regardless of race, gender, ethnicity, or class. It often challenges the “aristocratic norms” of the rest of the world whereby only the rich or well-connected are granted access to luxury.

I did a search and approximately 77,000 euros is the same as $100,000 US dollars. I wanted to use this figure to see if the American Dream of home ownership is attainable in other parts of the world. Are we as spoiled as I think we are? Or should I say, am I as spoiled as I think I am? Could I buy a house roughly the same as mine elsewhere?
My ancestry is French / Belgian and Slavic. So I wanted to see if I could buy a home today for about 77,000 euros that would compare to my home here in the states.  I started off in Kosovo and Montenegro. Kosovo was a bust. Montenegro netted some interesting sites. And just for the record – renting had a lot more options. However, back to the search.
There was one place that sort of intrigued me. It was right on the water and had a view of the Adriatic sea. Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Located in Risan, it has one floor with two bedrooms, bathroom and open plan living room/kitchen leading on to large terrace with storage room. The ad says “good opportunity to enhance with a second level and enough space to accommodate a swimming pool on 500 m2 of land.” But there are no interior pictures. However… it was interesting to look at.
It’s not the 3 bedroom 2 bath I have now. It’s also missing a 2 car garage. And… the square footage is 85 square meters. In short… it’s about 914 square feet – about the size of the first house we lived in when we got married. I’m not a fan of that small of space. However, the land around it more than makes up for that. Not enough to buy it.
Then I made the trip, as it were, to France, the options were more abundant thoughout the French countryside. Prices ranged from 55,000 euros on up to whatever your heart would want to pay. However, it was very difficult to find a detached residence with 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms that didn’t require a serious amount of renovations (at least on the website I was looking at) to bring them up to the standards of which I have been accustomed.  (And now I’m sounding snooty, snobby or American?)
All things considered, America is a newer, more modern country.  Europe, Asia, and other parts of the world have a deep rich history dating back thousands of years.  We have the Native Americans, whose history we have pretty much obliterated, and that’s about it. The reason I bring this up is when I look at other countries and their homes, they take pride in the fact that a residence may be a couple of hundred years old.  Our entire country is only a few hundred years old. Their idea of a fixer-upper is definitely not what Americans would equate with a fixer-upper. 

The oldest house I could find for sale (at this time) is a 1720 Cape Cod style home for $1.25 mil. (Gasp!) And then again, it’s been refurbished through the years to add a second bathroom, central heat and air conditioning, etc. So… it’s not “original” though it’s apparently kept much of it’s original “charm” and character.

In looking at this house, I have to ask… why do we modernize and aim for “luxury?”  Why do we keep upgrading and changing things? I’m sure part of it is “comfort.” We want to be warm. We want to have indoor plumbing, electricity and all those things that make the universe in which we live a better place to be. But when I compare this little house Cape Cod style house to the truly historic homes in foreign lands that don’t have the central heat and air, have one bathroom and have kitchens that make my counter space look like it’s enough room to cook for a squadron of soldiers, I have to wonder why things are the way they are both for myself and for others.

The American Dream… a quest for growth, prosperity and freedom… and in ways that are really hard to define – definitively American.