It's been a long time since I've blogged/journaled and a lot has happened. Don't even know how to begin...

7/31/15

A few minutes ago, I finished telling Xander about the move. He took it very well. Seemed upset at first, very hyper. Then I could see the wheels turning in his head: how he would deal with his father for the additional time, the monthly (hopefully) plane trips, who he needed to phone asap. We talked for about 15 minutes. He asked lots of questions, including about my job and if I'd have a house or apartment. He gave me a few hugs...for me? For him? It doesn't matter. I appreciated them.
For me, after weeks of apprehension and worry, there is an initial sense of relief. But feelings of inadequacy are starting: is he taking the news too well? Where is the anger I expected? Why isn't he going to miss me more? Is he actually relieved I'm leaving?  
My feelings have been all over the map the past few weeks, and the next few weeks and months aren't likely to be calmer. I'll be fine and I pray Xander will be also. The good news is that Xander doesn't hate me for my decision; now I must work to keep us close over the miles and somehow prevent as much resentment against me as possible. On my end, I must try to keep my guilt in check. This seems momentous today. Like the point of no return has been passed. I hope tomorrow will not be so emotional, even if by just a little. If only life went smoothly and peacefully the next couple of months and then a routine is established. It's time for the Deb who's been stuck for so long to be free and live her life. It does feel good to have hope.

"I'm slogging through life" was my first thought this morning, the first day of 2014. Just getting though one day at a time, I tell myself. Yeah, I'm depressed. Been back on the Welbutrin for about 5 weeks now and I guess it's starting to work. I don't seem to have those extremely anxious times when I can be crying and screaming at the same time. I haven't felt like I was "losing it" in a while. However, maybe that's situational: I have the heating issue figured out in the house and I can get the tractor started maybe more than 50% of the time. I realized that being able to run the tractor is so very important to my feeling in control. If I can keep myself from being stranded/stuck in the snow, I will survive.
But having heat and a running tractor is only part of my emotional well being, and I'm not feeling happy or whatever my comparable feeling of satisfaction with life is. Is it simply because I cannot be happy in the winter in Minnesota? Because my eyes just welled up with tears as I wrote that, I'm guessing Yes. But there's also a constant undercurrent of fear of the unknown that isn't correlated with the weather. It's a result of the divorce, I'm sure, and I hope that will pass in time. However, it's also due to that feeling of being stuck and not in control of my own destiny which has lingered year after year and is not going away despite the therapy and trying to talk myself out of it with its associated self-directed treatments (art, exercise, friends). Should I try harder now that Cupid is gone? Maybe, because I realize that the time we spent together during the hard times was so therapeutic. Our walks and our naps with that time to "check out" really kept me going, and now it's gone with no replacement. I can hear my old group telling me I need to find different activities but I would tell them to f off. It's not healthy or productive but I just continue to rant about how much I hate this place and plan my escapes to AZ.  It's my outlet - venting - and while I don't want to brainwash X, I've been hearing some positive comments recently. It started about a week ago when the subject of college came up and he surprised me by saying he wanted to go to college in California. I asked why and he said it was because it's warm in CA. I can't express how happy this made me! I didn't think that he thought like that. I assumed that because he's a kid he's therefore oblivious to cold and snowy weather. Score!! I was wrong, and that's OK. Then, a couple of nights ago, I was feeling inadequate about another one of X's long pre-bedtime conversations with his father. How can they chat for so long while X and my talks are awkward and strained (at least that's how I feel sometimes). So I spied on him. I know, that's wrong, but I'm so glad I did. I heard X expressing his own feelings about a couple of things: his faith, and then winters here. Dana sounded (they were on speaker phone) a little surprised when X said he wanted to go to college in CA, asked why, and X told him he "gets tired of the cold here". I nearly shouted with joy! I love that kid. To give D credit, he didn't try to influence X in either subject. Who knows how X will feel as he grows up but for an 11 y.o., he's got a good head on his shoulders and isn't afraid to say what he thinks. And he understands what I complain about, and wants better for himself! Love it.

It's -9 degrees out there, with a high of 2 predicted. I am living my nightmare. If I wanted to look on the bright side, I could be happy that my heating issues out here on the farm have been solved or at least are being managed. It took some time but I was able to get my landlord to understand that the farmhouse was not a comfortable place to live for the first couple of weeks. He's a nice old guy and I believe him when he said he wasn't aware of all the issues, and he and the handyman are getting each problem fixed. It took writing a letter https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B4EsyiHWiXolc0pLVGh1NEU0dmM/edit?usp=sharing then an angry phone call one cold Saturday morning when I couldn't stand it any longer.
The corn-burning stove works great but effectively heats only the living room. The wood stove is also great but messy and labor-intensive. Maybe I'm soft but when I get home from work, I generally don't feel like immediately dealing with ashes and making a fire. My main issue was that the home's heating system wasn't working properly. No heat was coming out of the vents. Handyman Lyle worked on it and even called in a heating guy. Between dealing with the two of them scheduling time together out here, getting parts and Lyle having other jobs, 2-3 weeks had passed and temps were dropping. After hearing Lyle say again that the heat was working fine down in the basement and they couldn't figure out why I wasn't getting heat upstairs, I was ready to kill somebody. Luckily, instead, I called a few heating companies and found out how much it would cost to have them diagnose the problem on that cold Saturday. Armed with these numbers, I called the landlord and proposed getting the problem fixed that day and the cost would be subtracted from next month's rent. I was expecting an argument from him but he said fine and the heating company had someone out a couple hours later. It took the man a little while to understand the tangled mess of pipes and valves that had evolved over the years (house is about 100 years old) but he explained it to Lyle for potential future problems and I had warmth in the house! It's not perfect by any means but I could relax for the first time. It was an incredibly stressful time for me and I'm glad it's over.

Today was a really good day at the farm.
I enjoyed some nice, warm domestic-y feelings as I made Alexander and his friend Derek their breakfast and looked out the huge window of what I'm calling the great room. It's not a great room yet; it's still cluttered with boxes and bins needing to be emptied, but it has great potential. Then I got the idea that I'll set up a guest book of sorts for Xander and his friends to jot down a few words about the sleepovers, like some people have for their guests at the cabin up north, say. Maybe I'll print out some photos and it'll eventually become more of a scrapbook. 
As the coffee brewed, I made a fire to warm up the house a little more. After the guys had a chance to play outside for a little while, I told them we heading to the nearby town of Isanti to do some shopping. Of course they were less than thrilled to hear that, but the second night of the sleepover was hanging on whether Xander's attitude remained acceptable. He's just getting to that age where it's not cool to be decent to your parents, plus he's sleep deprived because getting a good night's sleep isn't cool either. I don't remember being at this silly age...it was much too long ago. Regardless, he's been cranky on and off all day but I didn't let him kill my buzz. And guess what I bought?! A tractor! It's not a huge one but I can't even explain how excited I am about it. It's a John Deere and has a snow blower attachment and cab for the upcoming winter and a mower for next year when the grass is growing. It'll be delivered next Friday, and I'll get the "Tractors for Dummies" short course then. I can't wait!
Later in the afternoon, I decided to play around with the internet cords and connections and finally got it working! I'd spent way too much time on the phone with CenturyLink and just wasn't sure if I was willing to spend $100+ for internet installation, but I didn't have to! Two awesome things in one day...I can't stand it!


the farm, a few weeks ago

 

Front of the farmhouse (matching birdfeeder!)

I can't believe it, but I'm finally getting my small farm. Just as I was giving up the search, I found this place on 20 acres in Harris, MN--north of the Twin Cities. It's an older place (probably haunted) but there's a barn... I've always wanted a barn! There's a wood stove and a corn burner to help with traditional heating methods for the upcoming cold weather.

Back of farmhouse

I am thrilled and scared, at the same time. Can I handle this move to the country? I lived out in the desert before, all by myself, but that was a long time ago.

Xander by the barn and silo (he's holding his head because he had a bad headache)

I'll take the winter to plan for the sheep and a few crops for farmers markets and maybe a CSA. Although I've devoted many hours this year learning as much as I can about farming in the upper midwest of the US, I still need to do more.

Our backyard!


What a tremendous opportunity I've been given, as well as the chance for a fresh start.

Memories, future and current

Note: this was actually written on September 1.
September already. Summer's over. As I type, I'm waiting for Alexander and his friend's family to drive up from a week on a tiny island in a lake up north. No electricity, no electronics, and they needed to take a boat to the 'mainland' to get supplies. He's probably coming home a little bit tougher. I'm excited to see him.

James Allen McWilliam, circa 1950

Yesterday was the 19th anniversary of my dad's passing away. I miss him a lot. He would have been a wonderful grandpa to Alexander, whose middle name was chosen in honor of my dad. I thought about him tonight as I biked up to Lake Josephine at sundown. He used to ride his bike a lot and would have loved our little lake. There's a DQ right across the street, and I remembered how we'd enjoy a couple of chocolate almond Haagen Daz ice cream bars after a trip to Costco together.
Yesterday was also the 15th anniversary of Princess Diana's death. I recall sitting up in bed at my father's house late into the night watching the details unfold on tv regarding her tragic death. What a beautiful and caring woman we lost that night.

It's my last full day in Prescott Valley, Arizona. While Alexander and I have done some fun activities, I'm not leaving with a sense of satisfaction or relaxation.
My mom's still struggling with a lot of pain and COPD. Listening to her do her breathing treatments is emotionally painful. We met with her neurosurgeon yesterday and were made aware of the significant risks of another surgery and subsequent long and difficult recovery period. Then, the best case scenario is that her pain may decrease by about 50%. She seemed happy at the thought of that much lessening of her pain. I can only imagine how much it stinks to live day to day with that kind of suffering. If her pain could be better controlled, life would be better. But doctors are reluctant to write prescriptions for narcotics, and those are only partially dulling the pain. She tried the Fentanyl patch recently and found them to be ineffective. Scar tissue from previous surgeries prohibits epidural injections and modalities like chiropractic and acupuncture only provide slight, temporary relief.
She should not be living alone. She doesn't want to move to Minnesota and I can't move here to help. She's still mentally sharp but older folks are notorious for making poor decisions regarding their welfare and independence. She says she's not quite ready for assisted living and doesn't want to sell her house in this lousy market. Bottom line, though, is that I need to convince her that her safety is a priority and preventing a wreck is better than cleaning up afterward.

Summer is almost over! It's been a good one, though.
There was little league baseball for Alexander, which gave me more reasons to be outdoors and watch him a change from a clumsy kid who just wanted to goof off to a more athletic boy who really cared about the game.

There were a few weeks of summer school, which allowed me to keep and practice my skills with ASD kids in a more relaxed environment than the regular school year. I also got to be with the older kids as they "graduated" and toured their new school and met their new teachers. I was so proud of them; they'd progressed so much.

There was the time spent with Alexander alone and with his friends - at the beach, riding bikes, and more. I feel so incredibly blessed that I can have summers off to play with my boy.

There was Cub Scouts' Camp Akela, for which I am camping chair, and the extra time with A watching him learn woodworking, practice his shooting skills with BB and paintball guns, and really get into making beef stew with a couple of other scouts for them and their parents. The camp counselors said our stew was the best and I guess I believe them because they kept coming back for more.

There was Vikings training camp, where I watched my team up close in the early stages of practice and development for the 2012 season. I watched Adrian Peterson rehabbing his knee on the far end of the fields; our 1st round draft pick, Matt Kalil, lining up against veteran Jared Allen and having a great time doing it; and our recent acquisition, Jerome Simpson, who was amazing with his speed and agility. If he can keep himself out of trouble, I think he's going to be a great asset for the team.

Then, last weekend, I drove into St. Paul to watch the unveiling of  a statue of Hubert Humphrey at the State Capitol. President Bill Clinton spoke, in addition to VP Mondale and Senators Al Franken and Amy Klobuchar. I was happy yet somewhat surprised to hear the positive messages from all. I left with a welcome but unfamiliar feeling of hope. The sculptors are a couple married 22 years who've also made statues of Martin Luther King and religious figures.
Lastly, I've had plenty of time to make art this summer and I'm almost done with a collage that I hope to post tomorrow.

I burned up some t-shirts this evening. It's not something I do regularly. I'm not sure I've ever done it. They were t-shirts that brought bad memories. In burning them in a ritualistic manner, I was trying to rid myself of those negative feelings. I don't know if it's worked yet. I felt somewhat bad because burning t-shirts can't be environmentally conscious. However, it was very satisfying to watch them catch fire, smoke, and eventually turn into a black pile in the fire pit.

The boys will be home this weekend. I've had a little over a week with just Alexander, and it'll be 2.5 weeks without Dana in the house. I still love my alone time and look forward to their annual Lake Itasca trip, but it is different this time. Not sure exactly why, but maybe it's because I'm working this summer. Maybe it was because I've had a lot to do. Maybe it's any one of a hundred things. The good thing is, I've been working on some art.  I still have to tell myself to stop being so inhibited and perfectionistic about it. I suppose that'll be a lifelong struggle.

Tonight, I have a steak on the grill and mushrooms sauteeing. It reminds me of my time out in Marana. Some Fridays, I'd come home after a long drive from the University and a long week of work and grill a steak and drink a beer as the sun went down. Those are good memories.

History, peace, and acceptance

Alexander, in the middle, with friends and teammates Mitchell and John

Wow, they've made some changes to Blogger since I last posted. Sometimes I wonder why I have this blog, and maybe I've said before, that it's kind of an online journal for me since I haven't been journaling otherwise and scrapbooking has fallen to the wayside. It is extremely important to me that I archive as much as I can for Alexander and future generations. My family is shrinking. There is still a lot of history I can get from my mom (thank God her memory is still sharp, though her views tend to be quite negative when it comes to my family of origin). My brother and I, after some disagreements, have decided to keep our relationship as superficial as possible. Not my choice, and I'm hoping he'll change over time. His wife and I don't talk anymore, over a comment I made that was - in my opinion - misconstrued and blown way out of proportion. Alexander hasn't seen his cousins in several years, and they've never made a trip up here to visit us. My brother admits to always being "out of the loop" so it's difficult to get updates or photos of his kids from him and he doesn't seem to mind or want to change it.
So I try to follow the wisdom of this well-known prayer:

God, give us grace to accept with serenity

the things that cannot be changed,

Courage to change the things

which should be changed,

and the Wisdom to distinguish

the one from the other.

Living one day at a time,

Enjoying one moment at a time,

Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,

Taking, as Jesus did,

This sinful world as it is,

Not as I would have it,

Trusting that You will make all things right,

If I surrender to Your will,

So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,

And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

Amen.
                                Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971)

Birds and brats

This has been a crazy winter for weather, hasn't it? Not just us here in the Twin Cities area but all around the world. Snow in Rome for the first time in decades?? Yesterday morning, when I got up around 9:30, it was already 65 degrees. It hit 80 yesterday and should again today. Scary warm for March. I should be happy, right? I hate winter here. But this is just so darn unusual. It's great to see the blue jays return - they seem to remember that we'd throw them peanuts every time they'd squawk last summer, so they've been showing off in our front yard already. The geese and ducks have been flying in, grass is turning green, and the bulbs are sending up foliage. Does this mean we're in for a long, hot, extra-humid summer? I guess we'll find out...
As I write this, Alexander has a few friends over, one of whom I dislike. Never having done this before, I want to ban him from ever seeing this kid again (mostly kidding) but I hear that's not the best way to deal with this situation. They're already good bus buddies, and the kid (who is only 8--a year younger) is filling A in on all kinds of topics including french kissing, I've learned. Oy. Then the little turd had the stones/bad judgment to lie to A's father yesterday.  I wonder if there's an Idiot's Guide to Keeping your Child out of Juvie.

Whitey's gone

  Whitey

       R.I.P.




Whitey was one of our albino squirrel friends. I'd been feeding him for at least two years now, he'd come by nearly every day, and I'd gotten kind of attached, darnit! He'd take peanuts from our hands,

He knew his name and had his own, tough-guy personality. Earlier this winter, he was hit by a car in front of our next-door neighbor's house. I was sure it was him because all of a sudden he stopped showing up. I asked Dana to pick him up and he buried the little guy in our backyard by the iris bed. He used to hang out with another white squirrel, who was not nearly so tame, and we've seen this other squirrel a few times since then but not recently. I miss you, ya little rat.

50

Ugh. I've been dreading this birthday for a while now. The actual day wasn't so bad. My boys presented me with funny and appropriate cards in the morning and a Wii Fit Plus (a request, not a hint) in the evening. Several of the ladies at work gave me cards (one says "50 is nifty". Really? We'll see.) and my table was strewn with rolls of Smarties candies. 50, to be exact. There a beautiful cupcake decorated with a red flower that was almost too pretty to eat. Later, happy hour at a favorite place. Phone calls from my uncle and mom. Facebook greetings from friends. Overall, it was a nice b-day.
Maybe now I can get past the number and just focus on my life...what little of it there is left. Ha ha. Debbie Downer, at your service.
A few weeks ago, I chose my new motto: What are you waiting for? Let's see if I can put it into action. Wish me luck!

Still keeping her close to my heart

When so much of my time and emotion went into caring for Cupid, I thought that I might feel somewhat relieved when she passed on. But that's not the case at all. I find myself missing all the extra efforts I made to make sure she had a fabulous life. The stress of my worrying about her?...I'd take it back in a heartbeat, if she were happy. What about the extra time I have now?... I don't care.

I wear a pendant that holds some of her ashes because it helps me feel that there is still a connection between us. It came from a wonderful company called Perfect Memorials. They were great to work with and shipping was quick. They can also be found on Ebay.

Another season without my girl

Fall has begun to gently settle in here in the Twin Cities. It was a great summer - with the visit to Lake Itasca State Park, the U2 concert, Vikings training camp, plus plenty of bike rides and trips to nearby beaches. There was so much time spent outside which will come grinding to a halt before I know it. As much as I dread the cold late fall and following winter here, Cupid always looked the most beautiful in the autumn. I will be reminded of her often. There are still days when memories of her choke me up and suck the wind out of my lungs with the incomparable pain of loss. Today brought memories of her at the Shoreview Community Center, where I used to search for the perfect parking spot in the shade for her while I exercised. We'd walk on the adjacent paths and around the pond. I remembered her favorite sniffing spots and how she loved to go everywhere in the car with me. Picking up Alexander after his first day of school was also difficult as I recalled that the last time I picked him up--last spring--my Cupid was with me. Walking through the dog food aisle at the grocery store has unexpectedly started me crying; I absolutely avoid that aisle now. Most days are OK but the ones that aren't leave me feeling broken, deflated, defeated somehow. She was such a huge part of my life.

The Shepherdess and U2

Well, Jill asked for some art so here's something I finished a long time ago but for some reason I kept procrastinating doing the photomerge in Photoshop (it's 12x12). I guess I thought it was going to be a real pain but it actually took only about 30 seconds. The inspiration for this collage was some of Ann Baldwin's work, specifically from her book, Creative Paint Workshop. I used corrugated cardboard, patterned papers, decorative napkins, some mulberry paper and acrylic paints. Oh, and some stamping into the paint. The shepherdess is a gel medium transfer. I had a hard time deciding if I should include her dog because I think he looks too much like a sheep. I guess that's not such a bad thing.

It was another hot, sticky day here in the Twin Cities and it looks like tomorrow will be similar except that we could have thunderstorms, which should be fun during the outside U2 concert. I told my mom I was going to a concert and she told me to be careful not to get trampled in a mob rushing the stage. She's hilarious sometimes-- doesn't mean to be--although instead of laughing I should be taking notes because I'll need to use these lines on Alexander in a few years!

Peace and quiet and fear

The boys left Sunday. Off to Itasca (4 hours NW) for their annual foray into the woods, where Dana teaches biology to incoming freshmen and Alexander has the time of his life playing with the peer mentors and the kids of other instructors. 
I always look forward to my two weeks of alone time but this year it is different because I really am alone: there's no Cupid by my side. I'm pretty sure that Cupid relished her alone time with me just as much.
It's always a time of mid-year resolutions for me. I started my two weeks well, with a trip to the gym and resisting the urge to run to the store to buy more yummy flavored creamer for my coffee. I need to get back to using 1% milk.
I am resolving (again) to rid myself of the fear that infects my life.
A big one is my fear of making art. My poor muse, always being ignored. This fear stems from my issues with perfectionism, which I've dealt with since I was 6 or younger--not wanting to make 'mistakes', the fear of failure, and not being accepting of myself.
For someone with a background in research, where did all the thrill of experimentation go?

But as soon as I finish this blog post, I am setting myself up on the living room floor with a much-too-large assortment of red- and white-tones of acrylic paints and working on a memorial collage about a friend's therapy dog.  My reward will be to dive into a book by Beryl Taylor which I have wanted for a long time and recently received. Her work is so incredibly detailed; she uses fabric and paper and beads and embroidery to create amazing quilted fiber art. Every time you look at one of her creations, you notice something new. Her work is so inspiring, but for now I'd better start smaller although I did make a piece of her fabric paper the other day.

More about Cupid

A poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, from To Flush, My Dog

With my hand upon his head,

Is my benediction said, therefore, and forever.

Blessings on thee, dog of mine,

Pretty collars make thee fine,

Sugared milk make fat thee!

Pleasures wag on in thy tail--

Hands of gentle motion fail

Nevermore, to pat thee!

Yet be blessed to the height

Of all good and all delight

Pervious to thy nature.

Only loved beyond that line,

With a love that answer thine,

Loving fellow-creature!

I found this poem in a very nice book titled Blessing the Animals: Prayers and Ceremonies to Celebrate God's Creatures, Wild and Tame, by Lynn L. Caruso. It really made me think of the relationship I had with Cupid. And the line about 'pretty collars' reminded me of her lovely red leather collar with the hearts on it. With a name like Cupid, I took advantage of the Valentine reference as well as the Christmas/reindeer one. The photo was taken in 2003.

How my son plays catch

I forget at times how much fun it is to be a kid. If you want to wear last year's Halloween costume, you just do it. It doesn't matter if you're playing catch in the street. What a free feeling that must be. However, if you ask my little lefty, Alexander, how free he feels, he may tell you all about his losing privileges, consequences, and being grounded. It's not all fun and games!