a break from this break

• We had our little white elephant gift exchange at work  yesterday - ended up just being five of us as Triple-D was sick, and Star and Kitty had other obligations. I was surprisingly content with what I ended up with - a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle, kitchen sponges, and a dental grab bag - HA!

With these work gift exchanges, we try to do them without anyone having to purchase anything. I learned that the jigsaw had been gifted to Party Girl's dad, who has dementia and can do a 60-piece puzzle, tops. I suspect that she did purchase the kitchen sponges - they are new and in the shape of cat faces. The dental grab bag came from Work Study, who informed us that the college's dental assistant program had given them out for Halloween. Who knew?

As to why I ended up with gifts from two people, it's a roundabout story, but suffice to say that I almost ended up with that Zombie book that I brought after things had made the rounds. But Sarge actually wanted the book and traded up to get it. So all's well that ends well, and I don't have to buy toothpaste or floss for a while.

• In other happy news, I went running this morning. My foot had been on the fritz for about a month and a half, but had gotten to feeling better, so I rejoined the weirdos this morning. It did okay, but in the meantime, I had contacted a local physical therapy office that specializes in running injuries.

They're offering a $49 special with full analysis/diagnostics, plus they're office is really close to our house. So I made an appointment for next week, and they sent me a questionnaire which asked typical questions like, "what hurts", "what makes it better/ worse", "what have I tried doing for it", etc... And it also asked something like, "What are my goals from therapy and how meaningful will it be for me to reach them?"

As for goals, I just want to be able to go for regular runs again and make a decent showing at a handful of races - 5K, 10K realm - each year, blah blah... But meaningful? I had to think. I mean, I'm nearly 60 years old. I'd like to be able to leave other 60-year-old women in the dust, but I'm pretty sure I've passed my peak. I came up with something for the meaningful question (all fields had to be filled in), but I realized I could find meaning in other activities if push comes to shove.

I'm off work today, and we're closed all next week. I guess I'll start searching for some meaningful things to occupy my time.

do you tell 'em?

Do you speak of it? Disclose? Open that can of worms?

Magnum and I were talking about "icebreaker" situations - like the opening of a workshop or a class - where everyone is prompted to "tell us one/ some of your hobbies".  Or maybe it's just while sitting in the chair at the salon, meeting new coworkers, etc.

I always feel kind of "uh boy" in those situations. Around here, there's a lot of outdoorsy stuff: hiking, skiing, biking, etc. and that's fine, but what about the non-physical-exertion stuff? 

Do you tell people that you have a blog? That you like to blog and read other blogs?

For me, oh heck no.

Thinking of what I've heard from others, aside from the outdoorsy stuff, there's gardening (yes, I know that's typically outdoors), maybe scrapbooking, knitting, reading (vague), gaming (not big with the crowd I'm usually asked to share with, other than maybe Candy Crush, whatever the hell that is...)

I don't recall anyone ever mentioning blogging or even journaling. Yet here we are.

Fact is, I feel kind of strange about mentioning that I have a blog to a real-life person. Maybe it's because I don't want to deal with the potential follow-up questions. Or I just don't want real-life acquaintances coming to visit!

Anyhoo, last week, Linda Sue asked, "From where do you blog?", so here goes.

When we first looked at this house as a potential rental, this room was unfinished - cold, neglected, with a naked cement floor - in the lower corner of the garden-level.  By the time we moved in, the landlords had, most likely, DIYed it into what could be counted as a bedroom. We rented, then eventually ended up buying the house.

The room has a small closet, decent enough carpeting, and an acoustic tile ceiling - minus one light panel that the cat took out, but that's another story.

Not really a she-shed, but most certainly not a man cave. It's more of a "She-Cave". My she-cave.

I hung some shelves, a corkboard, and a whiteboard and moved on in. The drawing table is only there when inktobering or similar, but I include it here for the photo shoot.

The room is rather small, and I'm currently unable to close the closet doors because of the closet's use for meaningful storage, but it's cozy enough and I like having the big window: overcast skies, snow falling.

That's it. My office. My studio. My she cave. 

Don't tell.

escapism

When we were in Steamboat Springs, I realized I'd forgotten my Kindle. I've been meaning to read more, and I love how I can carry "shelves" of books on one small device. But there I was... bookless. 

I do have the Libby app, which I'd forgotten about 🙄. I don't like reading books on my phone, but it would've done in a pinch. And as I mentioned earlier, I chucked instagram from my phone - so nice to not have that time waster anymore!

While we were browsing Steamboat's downtown, we came across a local bookstore selling used and new.  Nothing really spoke to me, though, so I remained bookless. The things we take for granted.

So this week, I was glad to get back to my reading. I finished Stoner, which is actually not about a pothead. Honestly, if it was about a pothead, I might have found it more engrossing?

It's a story of a young farm boy who goes off to college to learn about farming, but ends up loving and making a career as an English Lit professor instead. Written in 1965, it spans his life from around 1900 to the 1950s.

It's touted as a "classic", but I don't think I'm the right reader for this one. I gave it three stars out of five⭐⭐⭐✖✖  mainly because I appreciated the introspection, and it felt wrong to be any harsher on a "classic".

But at the same time, geesh, the man was SO passive, and it's really a 2 or 2.5 for me. This cover illustration really gets the mood of the whole book. 

"Oh, there's a war? Welp, I'm just gonna go to classes. My wife's a basket case? I'll just hang out at my office.  ho hum...

I found the story, the narration, and certainly Stoner himself to be so very flat and passive. At about the halfway point, he seems to rise up a bit, but then quickly returns to his rather lifeless life. Again, I think I just wasn't the right reader for this book. I mean, so much seemed to be about him being an English professor. I get it... he's an English professor. 

While I didn't purchase anything from that little bookstore, I perused one from a prominent shelf display and thought it might be worthwhile. 

With Teeth is about a woman struggling with her son and his issues - whatever those might be - from his toddler days into the teen years. I downloaded a sample to my kindle, and I couldn't even get through that. I can't properly review a sample, but it was just really bad IMO.

From the few pages I was able to get through, it seems to be about a woman who neither wants to be a mother nor has any business being responsible for the upbringing of a child.  Then she whines about it. A lot.

Funny thing, I read some reviews - they ranged from awful to great - and many said similar things 

"She's an awful mother, not one likeable character - five stars!"

To each their own.

I also checked out a copy of The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning. I've been doing a lot of decluttering and organizing lately, so thought I'd see if this book had much to offer.

It's a cute book and probably insightful for those who live among lots of clutter, but didn't have much to offer otherwise. Basics: get your crap pared down and in order so someone doesn't have to do it for you later. Certainly a good message... thinking of my oldest brother having to go through my parents' house.

Lastly, in other fictional escapism, we've been watching Outsiders on Hulu. It's about an Appalachian Mountain clan in Kentucky having it out with a coal company that wants to kick them off and mine their mountain down to nuthin'. 

There's only two seasons, and we're about at the last episode. I think it's well cast and well written. I'll miss these hillbillies when it's over.

you were good to me

Thank you to those offering comforting thoughts regarding the tragic loss of Michelle.  Yes, she was vaccinated and also had compromising issues.  But she was by no means "fragile" - very active with her family and the community and her work.  Loved to travel.  She's left a palpable void. 

A week prior to her passing, she was admitted to the hospital and put on a ventilator - certainly not a good sign.  She'd been showing teeny signs of improvement with her medical team hoping to take her off the ventilator soon. Then she had a stroke, her body working so hard.

There was really no hope at that point, so the family planned to move her to comfort care.  She passed away right after the ventilator was removed.  At least she didn't linger. 

I've known several people who've had COVID.  Two of them have died from it.  But the others got through it without much fuss.  Some have mentioned "long COVID" symptoms - brain fog and fatigue, mostly.  Many don't really know how/where they got it.

And the world keeps spinning.  I'm looking forward to a little Thanksgiving break next week.  There's
always plenty to be thankful for!  

I'm thankful for people still blogging and still stopping by!

getting clean

We've been watching Nine Perfect Strangers on Hulu.  You watchin'?  Good escapist TV, comes in handy these days.

I happened to catch the first episode, and it really drew me in.  I think the casting is super well done.  It deals with people at a wellness retreat - to become "better".  There are drugs involved, both as addictions to escape from and as to use for wellness treatment.  

So... what's the difference?

A friend recently told me that she's addicted to smoking weed.  She's determined to stop, not to get over her dependence, but because she knows the smoking is bad for her lungs.  She's developed a noticeable phlegmy cough.  

She says the pot helps to calm her thoughts.  She smokes before going on walks with her dog, and the smoking-walking routine is rather therapeutic.  She's tried edibles and infusions, but apparently she's developed such a high tolerance from the smoking that no other form works for her.  If something other than smoking did the trick, she'd switch in a heartbeat.  

I'll note that she is about my age, has a stable marriage, lives comfortably in a suburban home, has a good relationship with step-kids in their 20's, is productive at her profession, is very sociable and well-liked... 

She told me she's considering hypnosis to kick her habit.  She doesn't want to go to rehab because of the stigma of, "I went to rehab".

When she said that, admittedly, I did think, "Wow, rehab?  It's that bad?"

So I'm watching Nine Perfect Strangers and wondering what that would be like.  Would I cope okay for ten days?  With no connection to the outside world - no news, no internet, no contact with friends or family... no alcohol, no caffeine?

Sure, I could do ten days.   

I think?

I draw the pictures in my head of you and I

The title is a line from a song by Arizona, my latest fave music group.  I love/hate the line.  Here's the full thought...

I draw the pictures in my head of you and I
And fall in love before the ink is dry

My right brain loves the thoughtful emotion expressed, but my left brain is hung up on the grammatical error.  I draw the pictures of you and ME, dammit!

But I'll let it go, right brain wins this round.

As for me, I haven't been doing much drawing lately, but intend to get back to it.  The whole job transition, that's what I'll blame it on.  But at least I have doodled.  

Couple of the latest, letting the pen wander.  Chaos, really.

Fall in love before the ink is dry? 

Nah, but the activity is strangely relaxing.  

Try it?

I'm thinking of dipping into painting again.  Acrylics.  For now, the wandering ink pens will have to do as I currently have no paints or brushes.

And I am enjoying the new job, mainly working on getting up to speed and not being an obvious noob.  

I like my new coworkers and miss my previous coworkers.  Change - transition - is good.

During one of my last shifts at the old folks home, a coworker returned from a resident's room with an untouched meal.

"The nurse told me to bring it back.  Said Goldie's 'in transition'.  Does that mean...?"

"Yep", I confirmed.  "In transition" is one way to communicate that someone was in the final stages of dying.  Another rather oxymoronish term they would use was "Active".  as in actively dying.

The term "in transition" seems fitting.  I believe we continue to exist after death, but can't know for sure.  I had a bit of an out-of-body experience when I was a little kid.  It was during a Labor Day parade, of all things.  I didn't understand much at the time and still don't.  But maybe?

On that note, happy summer!  Happy belated Father's Day!  Any favorable transitions going on?

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Linking up a bit late with Mama Kat for the prompt:
1. Tell us about something you have been working on.

all the things!

This week, Mama Kat includes the prompt:

6. Answer all of the writing prompts in one post.

Okay, let's do it!

1.  Tell us about something you did or participated in that a new friend might find hard to believe.

I always have trouble with these tell-us-something-surprising-about-you questions.  That I grew up in the sex change capital of the world is old.

2. Write a blog post inspired by the word:  peace.

Okay, meditation.  Have you tried it?  Do it on a regular basis?  I've been making concerted efforts to make it a regular practice lately.  It's thankfully helping me deal with Malcolm's tragic, unexpected death.  Yesterday, I decided to try a guided meditation from some dude on YouTube.  This particular guidance didn't help me.

See, as I was there getting all centered and eyes closed in the moment and listening, the meditation guide gently prompted, "imagine being in a field of flowers..." , and it was over for me.

I, for one, don't find fields or flowers particularly calming and peaceful.  In my mind, I saw something like this:

This makes me feel itchy and sneezy and hot... and a little paranoid that a bee will come and end me as I have no Epi pen.    

Please, no fields.  No flowers.  No fields with flowers.  I've had other guided meditations that tell me to picture myself at the beach.  Now, I don't have a lot of beach references having mostly lived and played around mountains.  Try as I might to picture a serene beach setting, I usually end up here:

Yup, the ending scene of Planet of the Apes.  

Conclusion:  meditation = good.  Guided meditation = not so much.

3.  What six words would your spouse use to describe you?

I asked Magnum while we were at the coffee shop this morning, and here's what he sez:

• Smart
• Organized
• Funny
• Fit
• Artistic
• Sincere

Okay, I guess we can stay married.

4. 90's fashion is making a trendy comeback.  What were you wearing in the 90's?

My 90's were a lot of this →→

Won't be making a comeback in this house.

I'm on board with the returned popularity of mom jeans, however.  Just please, no shoulder pads, K?  

5.  Write about something you think you would have been good at if only you had explored that talent more.

Welp, I was a pretty fast runner in high school, from very little effort on my part, I admit.  I've heard that, while distance runners are made, sprinters are, for the most part, born that way.  I'm no physiologist, but I think it has to do with muscle fiber types, much of which are genetic. Such was the case with me.  I could run fast without really training.  

I mean, I was on the track team and did the "workouts", but our girl's team was very small.  We didn't
have enough participants to rack up a competitive amount of team points, so we just did our thing in pretty laid back fashion.  In fact, we didn't even have a girls team my senior year.  

I think if I would have been more focused, I might have been a state qualifier and/or maybe a scholarship contender. I had a decent ribbon collection that is long gone now. 

To be clear, I have no regrets that I was a lazy ass when it came to "training" and track team participation.  Mainly, we just had a lot of fun together and got an early start on our tans. I don't have a strong competitive streak, and I don't think a college scholarship would've suited me or been a good investment.

make the cold nights feel like summer days

Back in late February, I got a LinkedIn notification about  a job opening.  It sounded like something I might like to do, and I felt qualified, so I went ahead and completed an application.  Other than the automated acknowledgement that they'd received my materials, etc., I never heard anything from them.

...until a couple of weeks ago.  Seemingly "out of the blue", I got a phone call.  The hiring manager was  personable, explained the nature of the job a bit more, asked if I was still interested and if so, would I come in for an interview?

Yeah... sure... okay... despite the fact that I'd just taken on a promotion at the old folks job.  

Long story short, I've given my notice at the old folks home and start the new gig on Tuesday.  I'll be working in the testing center at the local community college - coordinating activities for various standardized tests and academic exams.  My inner test nerd is happy, and it fits well with my tutoring experience.

Although the job was posted over three months ago, they'd halted hiring until the campus had their COVID policies more solidified, which apparently has happened.  So, I'm thankful and looking forward.

In the meantime, it's been a bit of a bumpy ride lately at the nursing facility.  Short staffing (remember me fretting about this as it loomed on the horizon??) has made for grumpy conditions, and it's difficult to get applicants right now.  Our chef has seemed rather cold to me this week, but he has the right.  He was away on a much needed vacation last week.  Upon his return, he was met with

• a cook who quit and didn't complete his 2-weeks notice because the new job offered him a fat bonus to start right away.
• I put in my notice.
• various dietary aides are quitting or wanting long vacations since school just got out.

and last, but certainly not least:

• Malcolm died.

I've enjoyed my time there, but really, it feels a bit like getting in the lifeboat of a sinking ship.  I don't know what upper management is doing to increase staffing as there's a lot of competition for workers right now.  Plus, I've said it here before:  I've learned that geriatrics isn't really my bag.  

A coworker friend who will likely take my position asked why I decided to take the new offer.

"Better pay, better schedule, more along the lines of my interests... Other than that, I dunno 😉"

Self care.  It's a good thing.  Speaking of which, I was enjoying a lovely morning bike ride earlier this week and came upon some dear deer just hanging out.

Such rides sure beat the slush fest from a couple weeks ago.

Thanks to everyone for the kind thoughts and words regarding Malcolm.  There was a well-attended celebration of life at his neighborhood cul de sac last weekend, but it still seems unreal at times.  

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Linking up this week with MamaKat for the prompt:

5. Summer is coming! What are you most looking forward to?

the ass in assistant?

I stepped into my boss's office, she looked up with a look that said, 

"WhoTF are you and why are you in my office?"

I mentioned a while back that my boss at the old folks' home put in her resignation after accepting a bigger position at another senior living place.  This is her final week with us.  There's been some speculation about who would replace her, and the most logical choice seemed to be the current assistant boss.

The present hierarchy in our department is as such:  Boss --> Assistant Boss --> Me --> the rest of the cubs in the den.  To make speculation gossip all the more confusing, Boss and Assistant Boss both have the same name, let's say they're "Audrey".

So conversations have gone something like, "Is Audrey gonna replace Audrey?  How does Audrey feel about it?  If Audrey replaces Audrey, who will replace Audrey?"

Follow?

There was a time when I thought I would want to be Assistant Boss if the opportunity arose, but lately, that feeling has waned.  Not sure why, maybe it's just spring fever.  Anyway, amid the speculation, I knew I would not apply for Assistant Boss should Audrey2 replace Audrey1.

Then...

yesterday, Boss started texting me, inquiring if I was interested in being Assistant Boss.  I said I was open to chatting about it.  We arranged to do that this morning.

I'm not working today, so I went in at our agreed meeting time when I was greeted with the aforementioned "WhoTF...?" look.  Apparently, I look quite different in my everyday than I do when I'm at work?  

After a moment, she finally recognized me and we had a bit of a laugh, her saying I look so different.  It leaves me wondering if the "different" is good or bad, but anyway...

It turns out the Assistant Boss has, in fact, secured the Boss position.  They want me to be the new Assistant Boss, so I now have a decision to make.  Honestly, I've been seriously thinking about cutting my hours at the facility and picking up more tutoring jobs, as the facility work has started to feel quite mundane. But if I take the Assistant job, I will stop the tuting altogether.

I told them I'd think about it and get back to them, so that's what I'm doing.  I did a little decision matrix just now and Assistant Boss won out over reduced hours + more tuting (57 points vs. 47 points).  It won out mainly because the Assistant Boss work would have more substance than what I'm doing now, has more potential for growth and learning, and pays better unless I take on a LOT of tutees.  

Tuting won out only for free time - which dwindles if I take on enough tutees to match the pay of the Assistant Boss - and it has a teeny tiny better commute, since I tutor online.  Even a 1.5-mile commute can be a factor when there's two feet of snow.

So I think I'm gonna say yes?  I mean, at least my name isn't Audrey.

And more importantly, do I look so different at work vs. not at work?  I took a car selfie (something I never do because I just don't "get" car selfies) after my chat with the Audreys to juxtipose with my work look (post COVID vaccine selfie)

Okay, so I'm wearing different glasses, and I don't have on the hair thing and work polo.  But I swear they're both me.  In these days of mask wearing, don't we all pretty much look alike?  

Must be the glasses.

look out and look up

Okay, now I'm starting to wonder.

Last week, I mentioned I'd gone out for a run on Saturday morning and passed by a lone woman sleeping in her idling minivan.  I speculated that she just needed some time alone, away from the house and family.  When I returned near the end of my run, she was gone.

Well...

She was there again yesterday morning.  Same lone woman. Same minivan.  Engine running.  She wasn't sleeping this time but rather looking at her phone.  Okay, fine.  Maybe she had such a recharging session last week, she's decided to make it a regular thing.  I get it.

And once again, upon my return, she was gone.  HOWEVER, in that same spot sat a guy in a Jeep Cherokee.  He was also by himself.  The engine was running.  What the...?

Now, this wouldn't be so weird if not for the location.  I mean, people pull up on streets for whatever reasons.  Except, this isn't a place where people would normally park.  Here's a view from google maps:

It's the road off the main road that enters our neighborhood.  I've placed a "suspicious" emoji to identify the spot of the idling-vehicles-with-one-person-inside.  It's not in front of any particular house.  I'll also mention that if someone was just lost and turned in to figure things out, it's a coupla blocks in from the main road.  Seems like a lost person would just pull off the main road.

Clearly, something's going down in the hood!  Or... clearly, I'm going batsh*t crazy amid the lockdown!

In other paranoia news, I think the military is tailing us.

We lived in Colorado Springs for 16 years before moving here in December. Colorado Springs is home to the U.S. Air Force Academy, and our house was not too far from there.  Every year at USAFA graduation, the Air Force Thunderbirds put on their dazzling show.  They also have a few practice sessions beforehand, so it's pretty much a week of Thunderbirds flying around, which was always cool.

The Academy held graduation yesterday, quite a bit earlier than typical.  It was a subdued event with graduating cadets sitting eight feet apart, no spectators, and no Thunderbird performance.



In light of the covid-19 situation, the Thunderbirds instead did a flyover of Colorado, starting at the North end, where we are, and continuing over USAFA graduation and beyond.

Magnum and I were out walking around when we noticed several groups of people out, socially distanced, seemingly waiting for something.  That's when I remembered about the flyover.

We don't get Thunderbird action in Fort Collins.  In fact, it's rare to hear a jet of any kind, so this was something.






And then... there they were.  They made their pass while people snapped pics and clapped.  A few honked car horns.

It really wasn't anything like the raucous display of power, precision, strength, and technology of their typical graduation performance.  It was instead an eloquent show of support and solidarity.  Nice.

Several photos from locals showed up online a short while layer.  Some indicated expensive camera equipment and honed photography skills.  But of the amateur photos I saw, I like this one the best.

SOURCE

"Nebraska and Colorado are considering merging into one state...

... that way, Nebraska will have mountains and Colorado will have a football team"

So the joke was on the college football scene

I attended CU Boulder, and Nebraska was a major football rival.  Honestly, though, I don't really follow football, college or otherwise.  And while I was in college, on game days,  I was typically too broke or too busy doing homework or working my retail job so as to not be so broke.  As a result, I attended only a few football games.

I don't remember much about the actual competitions, I mainly went to hang out with friends and to watch Ralphie run.  Ralphie is the university mascot that does her epic runs at the start of each game and also at the start of the second half.

"Ralphie Running" is a varsity sport at CU, as it's no small task to run 20+ miles an hour while trying to  control a buffalo.  Many try out, few make the team.

This photo was from Ralphie's pregame run against Nebraska this past Saturday.  Love the expression of the Ralphie Running chick in the rear passenger position 😝

I remember one Saturday morning while in college.  Magnum and I went for breakfast, and the restaurant was a sea of red.  Oh yeah, it was game day with Nebraska.  I remember one woman wearing bright red eyeglass frames before red eyeglass frames were even much of a thing.

This past Saturday morning, I was out enjoying a morning run, and I encountered a few other runners, all of whom were wearing CU Buffalo gear.  I was reminded again that it was Nebraska game day.  I was not wearing CU Buffalo gear, but I felt some strange rapport with these others.

Of those I encountered, they were, I'd say, around my age.  They are probably also alumni and/or have kids who attend the university.  Meego, our lone college kid at the moment, attends the in-state rival school.  HARUMPH.

As I've said, I don't follow college football.  I hardly followed it when I was in college.  So why am I happy - dare I say, proud - that CU won on Saturday?

I think I'm remembering going into that breakfast place all those years ago and being surrounded by Nebraska fans in all their red glory.  There was a feeling in the air, like we Colorado folks were somehow beneath them.  It was so silly.  It's. Just. Football.

In this 27-sec video of Ralphie's pregame run on Saturday in Boulder, again I saw the sea of red in the stadium.  There were probably more Nebraska fans at the game than CU fans.




So CU won, 34 - 31.  Nebraska fans and all their red gear went home.  Still makes me wonder why some sports rivalries are so fierce and others not so much.  And why do those who care, care? 

In related news, my sister and brother-in-law started up a family Fantasy Football league for this nfl season. 

After week one, I am 12th place out of 12...

when I grow up, I wanna be just like me

What were you doing ten years ago?  Where were you in life?  Were you happy?  What had you accomplished?  What were you looking forward to?

What do you remember from that time up until now?  Any regrets?

I just finished reading the novel, What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty.  It's the story of a woman, Alice (duh), who hits her head, goes unconscious, and when she wakes up, she's forgotten the entirety of the past 10 years and thinks she's who/where/when she was 10 years prior.










The plot seemed interesting and introspective.  She's told that she's actually 39 years old with three kids and going through a divorce rather than 29 years old, expecting her first child, and still gah gah over her husband.

She doesn't remember any of it.  Kids??  Divorce??  What would she discover?  What would she learn from the whole thing?  It seemed like a good book for readers to gain insight into themselves. Take us along, Alice!

I actually found it to be a pretty lackluster story - very "chick lit" and light with soccer momish characters.  Plus, I'm the type that is really bothered when story elements don't reflect true life.  For example, there's Alice in her 10 year time warp.  She doesn't remember ANYthing, yet the hospital just sends her on home, no follow up, no nothing.  She's separated from her husband, and they're working out child custody.  Husband and other family members know full well that Alice has just suffered a brain injury, doesn't know her kids, and has no memory of being a mom.  Yet they leave her alone to take care of her alien children - including drive them around in a big SUV - fresh off her TBI.  Every once in a while, someone asks, "memory back yet?"

I gave it 2.5 out of 5 stars - somewhere between "it was okay" and "I liked it".  It was okay and I liked it mainly because I wanted to follow along as Alice's last 10 years got pieced together.  Why did she seemingly hate her husband?  Why was she all fit and stylish compared to when she was 29?  Why won't anyone just sum these things up for her?

Well, I dunno why because it's not like there was some big sensitive revelation that couldn't just be summed up.  But that would've made for a pretty short book.

So, two stars and I added a half-star because I still liked the premise and the questions it invites.

Ten years ago, I was an elementary school volunteer mom, serving on the PTO.  I had just gotten into tutoring and teaching, working for a test prep company - a sidebar I thought would be quite temporary :P.

Meego was entering 4th grade, Wolfgang was just about to start high school, and Chaco had just finished "stupid freshman" year of high school.  I was pretty much in the thick of momhood.

Magnum still worked at the same company and we lived in the same house we live in today.  The house had a lot more stuff in it back then, though.

Now?  Everyone's an adult and the nest is practically empty.  Time to be me again.  But... who am I?

Sometimes, it does feel a bit like I bumped my head and woke up here.   I think I'm figuring it out little by little.  Although our roles in life change during our various "seasons", we're still ourselves at our cores.

On that note, I've been preoccupied today with sort of maybe trying to talk myself out of buying an appealing bicycle. It seems so ME at a pretty perfect time.  But do I really need another bicycle?

What will I decide?  Will I regret buying/ not buying it?

Ask me in 10 years.

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Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
2. Book review!

so let it be done

I make lists.  Do you?  Actual written lists?  On paper?

I think the act of writing stuff down helps me to remember it better.  Plus, if it's a to-do list, there's the satisfaction that comes from scratching things off.

So, let's look back on stuff I did this week, shall we?

• I took a nap one day.  I was tired.  There was a futon.  I totally owned it.
• Costco run, complete with the industrial sized pack o' toilet paper.  You Costco people know what I'm talking about!
• Let the cat out.  And in.  And out.  And in.  And out.  And...
• Rode my bicycle INSIDE a line of construction cones.  Rebel!
• I was able to get three people to audit our P.E.O. chapter books without me being one of the three.  Woot!
• Made and served up SO many nachos, tacos, burritos, fajitas... Oh, things are a-spicy in lunch lady land.
• Got out my sewing machine and made two big shirts into two shirts that fit.  I'm kind of a big deal that way... with a small top.

Okay, so a few of these things weren't actually on the list, but gotta have some spontaneity in life too!  And as I type this, I see that I also wrote down to defrost the freezer.  Yes, it's written down.  It's not scratched off.  The first step is to acknowledge that you have a problem.

What's on your list?

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Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
4. List 8 things you accomplished this week!

one week to go, the high school musical

Where did this past week go?  I feel like it was busy and productive, but I have no blog submissions to show for it.  Well, here we go...

For one thing, I'm in the process of leaving my job and starting a new one. Yup, my "new" job is now my "old" and I've got a new "new".  It's a bit of a tedious and whiny story, so I'll be brief.

I took this job at a nice area  high school.  I don't have a teaching license and have been going back and forth for the past few years, wondering if I should get a license and just be a high school teacher already.  So this job opened up, which didn't require a license, but would be a strong step toward getting one PLUS a job.

After doing this gig for a while, I consulted with my inner cells to see their thoughts on pursuing a license.  After crunching the data, here are the results:

Okay, so yeah, it was unanimous, but unanimous elections make for dull pie charts...

In the end, I got my answer.  No more wondering.  And I'm glad that I didn't just go ahead and jump through the various hoops to get a license only to learn AFTERWARD that it wasn't for me.  So it's all good, and I'm a lame duck for another week when the semester ends.

And I've got another job lined up to begin once this one ends, so I've been overlapping quitting the school job and going in for some training and such for the new one.

In somewhat related news, one of my students got himself suspended last week for 5 days, which is a lot of days to be suspended for.  I'm curious as to what he did, but since no one's told me, I haven't asked, out of respect for his privacy.

In the meantime, I eavesdrop on student conversations.  In one, I heard "jail" and "probably".  So curious.

Another day last week, security came through our classrooms with the cutest drug sniffing pooches!  I think it was just a random sweep, but they did remove one of my students' backpacks, and the kid was in the office for quite a while.  I wasn't surprised, to be honest.

But back to the dogs.  They were the cutest black labs.  I'd pictured drug sniffers as German Shepherds, but these were small black labs, about 40 lbs. I wanted to play with them, but they were all business.

I have had some fun stories from my semester of high school, but not enough fun to make me want to stick around and go bonkers.

where are they now?

I was sitting on the floor, and he came up and gave me this spontaneous bear hug.  I guess he was just caught up in the moment, having a good time, and he just HAD to hug.

It was a sweet hug, but a bittersweet hug.  It was our last day together, and he didn't know it.  But I knew it.

After I retired from the corporate world and got on the mommy track, I ran a little home daycare.  It was a great arrangement getting paid to have cute kids come over and play with Chaco and Wolfgang.   Sure, I was required to do some stuff, but I was already doing that stuff for Chaco and Wolfgang anyways.  Meego wasn't quite in the picture at the time.

Conner was our first and most frequent customer.  I first met him when he was just 3 months old.  The sitter I'd had when I'd been working referred his parents to me to help get my little daycare going.

Over the course of two years, we watched him go from a little 3-month-old to a cute, rough and tumble toddler.  And I think he saw me and Chaco and Wolfgang as his extended family, which I guess we sort of were.  There were other kids at the daycare too, but they were part-timers.  Conner was a full-timer, blessing us with his presence nearly every Monday thru Friday.

L-R: Conner, Wolfgang, Chaco
and that wagon.  I searched all over creation for that
awesome wagon

Conner and his parents made for a cute little family.  Mom and Dad were both just in their 20s, but with good jobs and with family around town.  It was clear that they doted on Conner, and he was a happy kid who knew he was loved.

But, we moved.  We left the state which meant leaving the little daycare biz.  Chaco started school, Meego came along, Wolfgang started school, and I got busy with Meego and volunteering and my daycare days were done.

In all that busyness, I didn't miss running a daycare.  But I did miss the kids.  Most of all, I missed Conner. I hadn't kept in touch with his parents, this was the days before facebook and all.

I'm not sure what got me thinking about those days recently, but I found myself wondering where those daycare kids are now.  I did a little searching online and found this kid with Conner's name, but if not for his parents, I wouldn't have recognized him.

That's not surprising because he's 20 years old now.

Tall, athletic. Graduated from the high school near our old house, now going to college. He has a little brother, same age as Meego.

And he has a stepmom.

Mom and Dad are divorced and Dad's got a different wife.  That saddened me.  I just remember them as the happy cute little family.

But 18 years have gone by.  A lot can happen in 18 years.

If I passed him on the street, I wouldn't have recognized him.  But seeing those few photos, knowing it was him, I could see his little toddler self behind the tall young man he is now.  A little teen angst and attitude showing, but it's him.  I see it in his eyes.

I'm sure he doesn't remember me, but I remember him.  And I remember that last hug.

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Linking up with Mama Kat again this week for the prompt:
1. Throwback Thursday: Share an old photo and let it inspire your blog post.

bad case of lovin' you

I had my annual "Well Woman Check" today at the doctor's.  In addition to the pedometer and activity points, it's required homework in order to receive health incentive moulah from Magnum's employer.

I was a bit apprehensive about the appointment.  Not because of impending doom diagnosis, but because I hadn't done my assignments from last time, namely mammogram and colonoscopy.  The health incentive people didn't say I had to actually FOLLOW THROUGH on my doctor's instructions, I just had to go see her.

And here we were, a year later.

So, naturally these things came up during the visit.  I stammered out a few excuses and good intentions like my classes and how they will be finished very soon, and so I will then have lots of free time to spend on purging my bowels and getting squished and scoped up to my eyeballs.  Looking forward to it all like a vacation.

Dr. seemed satisfied with that, and the visit went fine from there.  So I thought I'd take a moment to count some blessings.



8.  I'm "well"!

This was a well-woman check, which can sometimes feel like an annoying time-waster.  But then I look at some others in the waiting room and think,  "sucks to be you today".







7.  My doctor is very laid back

She's been my doctor for, I dunno, 3 or 4 years since my previous laid back doctor moved.  She's married with a coupla kids and doesn't intimidate at all despite the white coat to contrast with my fashionable "paper gown open in front and lap drape".  Smart enough to be a doctor, but personable enough to make jokes with.

6.  I have "boring pee"

As Dr. clicked through my lab results, she noted my "boring pee".  This is a good thing, apparently, despite the technical medical jargon.








5.  Pap smear, y'all!

There's a blessing here somewhere, I know there is.










4.  Coffee

I had to fast for the blood work, which meant getting myself to the doctor's with no morning caffeine.  I don't like that I  need morning caffeine, but I seemingly do need it and am so glad to have access to it now.








3.  Food

See number 4.

2.  Funny things on the wall of the blood-sucking room

Yeah, he had this one, along with an assortment of others.












1.  Leonard
Leonard is the phlebotomist.  When I arrived for the blood-sucking, he sat me down then went about looking confusedly at some papers on the counter.  Then he confusedly went about  picking up other papers and supplies.  Then he went back to the papers on the counter.  Then he looked over at  me and said.

"Whachyer name?"



So I'm thinking *wonder if he's on drugs??* and told him my name.

"Oh, okay", Leonard says.  And then, "You look younger than what your paperwork says, I thought you were someone else"

All my Leonard misgivings instantly vanished.  He's my number one today.

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Linking up again with MamaKat for the prompt:
3. Write a list of 8 things you are thankful for

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foretelling?

"If the way you spent your New Year’s Eve is any indication of how the rest of the year will go, how would you say your future is looking right about now?"

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• After arriving at our rental cabin, Magnum, Chaco, and Wolfgang went for groceries, and then Chaco made a nice dinner for everyone
• Wolfgang had brought a very fun game - Wizard - so we all learned to play while playing several rounds.  
• When we'd finished the game, midnight was approaching, and we began to discuss our midnight mile strategy.

*Pause for some background info...

About eight or so years ago, I was with the family at the bowling alley on New Year's Eve.  The kids were making plans for their evening when I noted that I planned to be snug in bed, probably by 10:30 or so.  They urged me to stay up, but I held fast.  Finally, I told them that the only way I'd stay up was if someone ran a mile outside with me at  midnight - a "midnight mile" for the new year.  I thought that would be the end of it, but much to my surprise, they all wanted to do it.  We've managed to do it every year since in some form or another.

• We tried to determine just  how cold it was outside.  We all had different weather apps on our phones, which were giving varying results.  We took the average and decided it was about one degree above zero Fahrenheit.
• We had a crude map of the area, so mapped out an even more crude route.  
• Thus crudely planned, we began to dress for the occasion
• Meego and I put on warm running clothes while the rest of the crew geared up as for Robert Scott's final expedition
• All that compression gear made me feel rather super-heroish, while truthfully only giving me the appearance of your garden variety weirdo.

• As the witching hour hit, we were outside.  Meego and I immediately took off running as it seemed the natural way to keep warm
• We followed what we felt was our crudely planned route as the area lights fell further behind us
• Thankfully, the path eventually looped back around, and all the while, we kept the area lights in sight.
• We had no idea where the others were by then, and we stopped to enjoy the holiday lights in the quiet cold of the first minutes of the new year.  

• Since we'd stopped running, I began to feel the coldness.  Meego seemed strangely immune.
• I pulled my balaclava up to protect my face from freezing off as we made our way toward the cabin.
• Doing so had the effect of completely fogging up my glasses.
• I was "faced" with a choice.  I could (a) sacrifice my face in order to see, (b) save my face and be essentially blind, or (c) stop breathing.
• I ended up choosing a strange combination of all three, and we managed to make it back to the cozy cabin where we met up with the expedition team.

Interpretation for 2016:

• If I don't shop or cook, we still won't starve 
• I'll learn new stuff and have to pay good attention to the lessons, or I'll lose
• Educated guesses will probably be good enough
• Power clothes will be a factor, but image isn't everything
• I won't get eaten by the wolves as long as I plan ahead, don't stray too far from the path, and keep my attention on the bright things
• I  might have some tough decisions to make, but I'll manage to keep the vision and save face.
• Don't forget to breathe

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
3. If the way you spent your New Year’s Eve is any indication of how the rest of the year will go, how would you say your future is looking right about now?



And you??

UPDATE:
I was curious and looked it up.  The first midnight mile was seven years ago - [here].
There's video.  Meego was so tiny!


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I'm with stupid

I love him but I think he's making me stupid.

I'm speaking of Magnum.       Of course.

Let's review for a moment.  We ordered this thing after he had thrown his Asperger brain around it for a few days.  It arrived in an acceptable amount of time, but "it" was not the "it" that was advertised, plus it arrived in a box that looked like it had been salvaged from the Titanic.

Since then, Magnum has been making me stupid.

I'm referring, naturally, to research that has shown that listening to complainers is bad for your brain.  I read the short article which was, interestingly, followed by complaining comments.

This isn't about people who come seeking help in some area, or who just want to bring attention to something that needs correction.  And I certainly don't mind "being there" for someone going through a rough patch.  But according to the article, "Typically, people who are complaining don't want a solution; they just want you to join in the indignity of the whole thing..."

Yeah, THAT's what I'm talkin' about with the Magnum.

Oh, he's got the solution(s) and has been chipping away.  I'm confident that the whole thing will be rectified eventually with little effort on my part.  BUT, after reading this article, I fear he's making me oh so stupid in between the chippings.

It's really not necessary.  I'm already a party to the indignity, but I guess it's the thought that counts.

And is it true?  Does being around complainers make a person's brain slough off?  I know that I generally avoid the chronically negative.  After a while,  they do seem to make my head hurt.

Perhaps more perplexing, how do we know if we're becoming stupid?  I doubt it's something that just happens overnight.  Intelligence takes effort, so stupidity probably does too.

I'll try not to work too hard.
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to be Abby

I was over at Mama Kat's.  For the unfamiliars, Mama Kat's is a fun site with loads of fun stuff for us  bloggers to use up otherwise productive time hone our blogging skillz.  Each week, she hosts a writer's workshop with a list of prompts to choose from and then link up.


I discovered it several weeks ago during a bored blog-surfing episode, but never linked up.  However,  this week, one of her prompts spoke to me.  Mama Kat asks:

"If you could change career paths now and be anything you wanted to be…what would you be and why?"

This kind of struck me as the perennial "What do you want to be when you grow up?"  prompt we were constantly given as elementary school kids.  Every... stinking... year.  But now, we ARE supposedly grown up, so instead of looking ahead, we are asked to look back.

Okay, so for writing prompt sake, let's ignore that I'm a mom.  Also, let's look back to my original answers.

In grades K-2, my answer was always "artist", and then I would draw the required accompanying self portrait of myself standing in front of an easel, painting some masterpiece while wearing a smock and beret.  Because that's what artists wear and do.

Somewhere around 4th grade (because I canNOT remember ANYthing about 3rd grade, remember?), I switched it over to the highly specific "scientist", and then I would draw the required accompanying self portrait of myself working in a lab with bubbling test tubes while wearing a smock.

CLEARLY, I wanted to grow up to wear a smock.

The bubbling test-tubes image stayed in my mind for the most part.  When time came for college, I realized I hadn't put much thought into just what sort of job entails smocks and bubbling test tubes, so I became an engineer.

Along my journey to becoming a manufacturing engineer, I got to wear the occassional smock.  In the occassional lab.  I don't recall many bubbling test tubes, but there was a fair amount of grimy beakers which, it turns out, were much more interesting.  

And truth is, I found that career path pretty fulfilling until I got on the mommy track.  But (finally, I shall answer the question) the path I would follow if I had it all to do again is to be an...

Abby.

No really, I mean Abby from the TV show NCIS.

Now, I don't even watch the show.  Frankly, I find TV crime dramas rather ho-hum, and Mark Harmon's haircut bothers me.  But I really love the Abby character and I want her job.  And no, I did not steal my blog name from her.  If anything, she stole from me.

I even love her goth fashion as it works for her, and I would totally also wear it in MY lab.  Under my SMOCK.  But, to be honest, I would lose the bangs...

What's your dream job??
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Dear Diary

I've been feeling restless lately.  It makes sense, I guess.  There's been a a lot of change in my life in recent days.

And I guess it's all good.  I'm happy.  I'm comfortable.  I've been hanging around with some newer aquaintances, and that seems to be going well as I get to know them better.  This whole transition thing, though, has caused me to take a closer look at myself.  I should make more changes.

I started thinking about how, perhaps, others view me.  There's a school of thought that says we shouldn't care about that, but I for one think it's important to ponder .  What am I projecting?

As I thought this over, I don't think that others see the "real" me. I think I appear as smallish, rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things.  I wanted to change that perception.  To do that, I decided to start with my appearance.

I'm sloughing off the old, and re-emerging in a truer form.  I experimented with that today, and I think it's going well.  My new friends really noticed the "new" me.  I can tell that I'm bigger, more prominent to them now.  

Alpha status.  That's my goal.

Hugs and Kisses,
King Reese

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Yes, Reese the snake shed his skin sometime in the last 24 hours.  Meego texted me while I was tutoring.  He remained burrowed under for most of yesterday, but then he popped up today and, migosh, he's actually quite a bit bigger.  I didn't expect it to be noticeable, but it is.

power hungry

Kat is quite interested in all this.  I think maybe the two of them are in competition to see who can be  Biggest Pet.

patootie cat

Oblivious China better watch out.
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