Friday, April 24, 2015
Lots going on this time of year with getting the house ready for summer, preparing for Emma to come home and I'm hosting a huge work event. I'm a tad pooped and pretty much just camp out on the couch after dinner.
Sammy the Weiner Dog is here for the week. Poor old Sammy is 15 years old now...and moving slow. He and Grace ought to have one heck of a fun week together--neither can see or hear the other. Criminy. Hobbes on the other hand is all freaked out and wanting to be outside to escape the dog....who can't see or hear the cat. Whatever.
I tried to sell Em's old bedroom set on Craigslist last year and it was a disaster. I was getting a bunch of fake emails saying they were interested and then the only real person who replied low-balled me so badly, I just pulled the ad. I tried again the other day, priced the set to sell and was contacted hours later by a really nice lady who wanted the set for her little girl.
Literally 24 hours later, there was a truck in my driveway with a friendly young man paying me cash for the bedroom set. As he was loading the truck he said "Wow. I guess I expected a bad experience from Craigslist." To which I replied, "Yeah. we half-expected to be murdered."
I actually received a thank-you text from the lady telling me how much she loved the set and that she'd send photos of the room finished and set up for her daughter so I could see it. So much for trash-talking Craigslist. I was really surprised at what a nice experience that was this time around.
I'm scattered, disjointed, pooped and boring. But I have not been murdered.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
G'ma Phyl reports that he has investigated every nook and cranny of her house, popping out from here and there to surprise her--oftentimes covered in cobwebs. He peeks at her from around corners and seems to appear from out of nowhere. He also has a penchant for nightly singing at the top of his lungs.
Finn loves the screened back porch where he can watch birdies, but has the safety of an open door should the scary garbage trucks come down the street. He enjoys sunny window perches and numerous cat trees. And food---plenty of food of every variety.
He is making friends, although he is still a little shy with strangers. He has made quick friends with the little girl across the street, but sometimes she has to remind him that they are friends and she isn't there to hurt him. Kitty treats always seem to refresh his memory.
While Phoebe (G'ma Phyl's elder kitty) is none-too-pleased with Finn's arrival, he is careful to show his submission to her and tolerates her spitting at him. He is slowly working his way into sharing the bed with his new family....but he is always careful not to disturb anyone. He is a peace-maker and has a wonderfully mellow personality.
G'ma Phyl says that Finn is a dream cat, very well-behaved and an all-around joy. He does not scratch the furniture, uses the litter box and shows no sign of being a feral kitty other than his shyness around people. It's hard to believe, but Finn is a cuddler and spends his evenings on G'ma Phyl's lap drooling as she pets him.
He's come a long way and settled in very nicely to domestic life. Hard to believe it's only been 3 months since we brought him in from the cold.
Monday, April 20, 2015
This week, I had someone at work ask me why "I am the way I am." Baffled, I think I uttered some lame excuse about my dad dying when I was 7....although I am still unsure what I was making excuses for. Although I didn't care to ask her what she thought was so horrible about me, I am angry at myself for making an excuse or giving her an answer. She certainly didn't deserve either.
Saturday night, after an evening with friends and a few glasses of wine, I laid in bed talking to Joe, telling him that very story. And I think I had an epiphany when I finally said "I hate my job. They just make me feel bad about me every single day." Joe said I was very profound because or in spite of the wine. Either way, I came to a very important conclusion.
I am happy with me in spite of my bumps, warts, and all out flaws. I like my life (other than work), love my family and thoroughly enjoy where I am at these days. I have a few people who love me for who I am and I honestly don't need the masses to love me too. It's alright with me if it's 3 people plus my cat who think I am okay. Really.
And in telling this to my mom, she reiterated what I somewhat already knew--that people are not comfortable with you being comfortable with yourself. I do not look for acceptance from everyone--especially co-workers. I honestly don't care if you approve of my clothes, my hair, my personality "flaws" or my refusal to shop at Kohl's. I'm okay, even if you are not okay with my being okay. Does that make sense?
I am me and I am good with that. Oh sure, there is a line around the block who will tell me what is "wrong" with me, but I'm choosing not to listen. And while there may be a moment or two when I'm tired or not feeling well when I will doubt my inner voice, for the most part, that voice will kindly tell you to stuff it.
It is what it is.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
April has been exceptionally warm here, so Spring cleaning the house has been difficult as the yard and garden beckons. Also beckoning is Hobbes--he absolutely LOVES if we are out in the yard with him, so he marches in often to announce that it is time for everyone to go outside. It is very distracting....and annoying.
Also very tempting.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
This was right when Joe and I started dating. He is dreamy, isn't he? In his shorty-short swimming trunks with just a hint of sunburn.....
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
There is something about the smell of chlorine that transports me back to those memories of living in that damn pool for 4 years. I remember wearing two suits for practice and covering up our lightweight, too-thin Speedos for meets. It was Cheryl and I, yucking it up on a team that was pretty weak and didn't win a whole lot. Not the same could be said for us--we placed pretty regularly. Good times. *sigh* Good times.
Cheryl texted me the other night to tell me that one of our swim coaches, Mr. W, passed away the other day. This news really touched me as Mr. W was such a big part of our swim team days in high school. He was just one of those cool teachers that went beyond the job and did so much for us--taking us on ski trips and reffing "animal ball", which was basically water polo with no rules. He took my brother and some other students camping and canoeing to the boundary waters in Canada--a trip my brother remembers as life-changing.
W was there to guide us in our goofy years, but never trying too hard to be our friend. Instead he was a guiding force, silently frowning when we went too far or too wacky, but laughing when the antics were harmless and silly. He once boosted me and Cheryl over the railing to the second-floor viewing stands to avoid a boyfriend who was waiting outside the pool door.
When I read the news, I actually cried. I was sad to hear of the loss of someone we all loved so dearly. I guess it just finalized those memories for me. We are older, W is gone. It was sad news.
I needed to swim yesterday, to remember the man who was such a big part of my swimming "career." I decided I'd dedicate my mile swim to him--silly, I know, but I wanted to thank him in my own way for instilling the love of swimming in me.
As I eased into the pool, I told Lupe the story of Coach W and that we lost him this week.
"I'm swimming for W today, Lupe" I told him. And then I noticed that a few other swimmers were sort of half listening to my story.
"Okay. Let's ALL do a lap for Coach W!" I yelled. And the lady next to me yelled "YEAH!" in return. (I love these people at the pool)
It was like swim team days all over again.