Journeys....

I had a whiplash moment switch from WOO HOO! to oh holy fuck today.

I got on my treadmill knowing I had one more workout to complete for one of the two series for November. Gold star time. Getting that badge even though I had to take off two weeks with Covid. Even with not being 100% after testing negative. I was 36 minutes away from being done DONE with that series. 

I even did a little happy song during warmups. Thirty six....oooh ooh...Thirty six and I did it. I diiiiid it...wooo oooh...

Then the workout started and I clicked over to the screen that shows me the overall workout and...

Oh holy fuck. Like literally out loud. Oh holy fuck. What you are looking at is a workout that the majority is spent at a 13% incline. Thirteen percent. Oh my god... so much for a thirty six minute easy to finish this series out workout. Okay...well. 

Got that badge though. 

And it was a really good finish to the series. Strong finish. Not just because it was a 13% incline hike up a mountain in Bhutan to hang some prayer flags but...strong. 

The whole workout series has been about happiness. How do you find it? What do you need to do to get it? And after a year of reading and rereading self help books it sort of fit in with that theme. The books I enjoyed the most were in that personal contentment realm. The ones I liked the least were how to be a better cog in the corporate wheel. 

And today's was the two different trainers that had been trading off workouts, hiking together and talking about what they had learned, what they were going to take away from their time in Bhutan. And this is where I gasped out a few yes, that's rights. (13% INCLINE! yes, I was breathing a little deep)

Casey Gilbert, one of the trainers, had talked before about how the past couple of years had been hard for him. He was trying to really drive himself to greater feelings of accomplishment in his training career and it had been really hard. The pandemic hit that industry hard. But he had pivoted to doing things online and with iFit and he was doing okay. Success. But how much is enough? He talked about feeling lost. How there were more times than not that he'd wake up in the morning and just not feel the joy in life. And he recognized and acknowledged he had a good life. Good marriage. Good kids. Good career. Just he felt very meh about it all. (Of course for those of us playing along at home this was the time we were all saying, dude, this is depression, go to a doctor, it's okay.)

So in this wrap up workout he was talking to Kenton Cool about how he had come to Bhutan, agreed to do this series, with the plan of finding happiness. Of actually being able to say, ah ha, this is it and this is what I need to do. But while he found moments of real joy and real happiness during the hikes, during the meetings with the Buddhist monks, he still woke up some of the days thinking...meh.

And then he had a moment...

That's okay. 

It's okay to not be happy all the time. Happiness is actually moments. 

Yes! That! 

We often get really wrapped up in trying to be happy that we lose the plot. We think that true happiness means happy all the time. And it just doesn't. It can't. Nobody is always happy. If you are happy all the time happy just becomes normal. Not something special or extra or different. 

Happy. Sad. Angry. Pensive. Meh. These are all pieces of who you are. 

Me? I strive for happy more than not. But I know it's not possible to always be happy. And how fucking annoying would it be if I was? 

But also, striving to be happy, the journey to happy. That's important too.

And we often lose sight of that. That the journey we are on in life is the actual point. The way we walk through the world matters. It's not always going to be happy. Sometimes it's going to be at a 13% incline. But just keep walking. 

I got my badge today for this series but I also got that reinforcement of my life ideals. That happiness matters. That seeking it out is a worthy endeavor. And most importantly that it comes in moments. 

It was a strong finish. 

Points!

So a lot of you know I used WW back when they were still calling themselves Weight Watchers. I was a huge success story for them. They tried to get me to become a coach and join the company I had such a great success story. 

I took to the points system and followed it to the letter, or number as the case may be. I could figure out how to get the maximum value out of my day with the least amount of points. And I rarely ever, bordering on never used my bonus points. That stash they give you to have a treat or two when you wanted one, plus the ones you earned by working out. I just watched them add up in my "good" column as the weight just came right off. 

It worked for me. Every meeting you'd weigh in and if you had lost the "right" amount of weight you got a gold star. YOU GOT A GOLD STAR. And once you had so many gold stars you got trinkets. And once you reached your goal weight you got even bigger trinkets. 

And then even if you'd reached your goal weight if you kept losing weight you got more gold stars. YOU COULD EARN GOLD STARS FOREVER.

Weight Watchers had all of the disclaimers that if you had an eating disorder this was not the program for you. And I didn't have an eating disorder. I mean not anymore. It had been since high school since I had "dieted" by just not eating because that was easier than trying to count calories. I mean living off of caffeine and nicotine at 17 didn't count anymore in my 40s right? 

And I'd never been hospitalized or gotten too terribly thin. I just didn't have a good relationship with food. 

BUT I have a great relationship with gold stars. 

When I was about 15 pounds under the goal weight I set I saw a picture of myself where I didn't know who I was looking at. Literally. I saw the photos from an event I had gone to and there was this really skinny woman in one of them. Not healthy looking thinner. But kind of haggard looking skinny. And it took me a long time to realize that was me. But once I saw it I could see it in the mirror. Before that I saw the five more pounds I wanted to lose to get to that magical place that lives in the back of my brain. 

I'm not built to be skinny. My bone structure doesn't lend itself to that. My hips are always going to be broad. It's just a matter on if it's a rounded broad or a jutting hip bone, but my pelvis developed in such a way that my hips will always be wide. Nasty trick of nature my pelvic opening ended up narrowing at the same time so pushing Katie out was a bit difficult, after years of being told I had good child bearing hips. Well no...

I've also got large boobs and a round butt. Well usually. What I ended up with when I first did Atkins (RAPID weight loss and then a pretty steady regain) and the WW loss was a flatter rear end and kind of empty sack boobs. Neither one is my preference. I actually like my curves and my soft spots. Which I know is hard to reconcile with the years I spent trying to get rid of them. I just wanted to be my shape, only smaller. 

And I loved those gold stars.

I tried going back to WW one more time after gaining back a little bit of the too much weight lost but felt right away that trigger cock and knew I was going to be off to the races losing more and more again. 

It wasn't healthy for me. It was the exact wrong program for me. It triggered a new level of disordered eating and it took a long time for me to leave all of that good food, bad food, low point, high point, background noise behind. 

So when I saw a headline about the CEO of WW coming out and saying that they now realize their approach to weight was all wrong and the points and the prepacked foods were not a good idea I thought...wow. This is amazing. 

Then I read further and saw that they have purchased a drug company and will now be giving semaglutide medications. You know the ones that were supposed to be for diabetics but people started losing weight on them and so a new level opened in our diet and weight loss industry. 

There are a lot of problems with these meds, I mean just start with the fact that this is a lifetime commitment. As soon as you stop getting the injections the weight comes back. And as weight likes to do it brings friends. It's also not some sort of easy path. People report that they are ill while on them. Nausea is a big side effect. And then there is a whole other social aspect. Why do people need to be thin?

I mean, you all know that's the piece I've struggled with my whole life. I'm never going to be thin. But I am healthy. I am fit. I keep an eye on blood work so I can fix health problems. But being fat isn't a bad thing. It's just a thing. It's a body type. Just like being skinny. Or being in the middle. Fat is only a problem so they can sell you weight loss products. 

And now WW has realized that the points system wasn't the way to go. Medication is the way to go. 

Yeah, they were wrong. The got that part right. But they just went more wrong instead of better. 

Quiet...

The cats are sleeping in sunbeams. 

Brent is sitting on the couch reading news stories.

I'm in the office writing. 

The girls left a couple of hours ago to drive back to Bend after spending the holiday weekend with us and the house is quiet. 

Very quiet. 

It was nice having them here. Katie enjoyed her Thanksgiving more this year than she did last year when she came on her own. It's hard when you start establishing your own family away from your birth family. You have to find the balancing act of time with each set, or time with both. She's figuring it out. 

I've mentioned before that we feel really lucky to have had her to ourselves for so long, but at the same time I am very happy for her that she's finding her own way now as well. Friends and girlfriends and a life of her own. It's all very good for her. 

So this year she had Amber and Slushy come with her to our house instead of leaving them behind and visiting on her own. 

Granted last year Brent had Covid and Katie and I were in the wait and see mode hoping we didn't catch it as well. She was really worried because if she tested positive she would be rehabbing up here instead of at home. And not only would she be missing her people, she would be missing work. It was all a little stressful. 

This year she is off work until next Friday. She brought her girlfriend and her roommate. They came up Wednesday evening and left this afternoon. The weather was good. The roads are clear. They ate, they watched football with us, we played a couple of board games. They fussed over the cats. She didn't miss anybody or wish someone else was here or she was someplace else. 

So it was a good holiday.

All of that being said, I love my quiet house. 

I love my lazy sunbeam worshipping cats.

I love my quiet husband sitting and reading his news.

And I love being able to sit and write without feeling like I'm being a rude host. 

We all have adjusted to living our own lives. 

I never would have believed it if you had told me 12 years ago when I did the ugly cry when she flew back to school after being home for the holidays. To believe that we would all adjust to living apart from each other. I mean, logically, I knew it would have to happen. It had happened for Brent and I when we left home, but surely it wouldn't happen with Katie. She would come right back to us and live in our house for the rest of her life after college. That would be fine, right? 

Of course it wouldn't have been. 

But 12 years ago me had not yet fully embraced that her job was done. The day to day part of it anyway. I tell everyone that you work yourself out of full time and into consulting as a parent. And then eventually even the consulting gig is very rare. We are well into that part. She might ask an opinion but most likely she won't. 

She's a full grown person living a full grown life. 

And it's a lot noisier than ours. 

The house is quiet again. 

It was a good weekend.  

Delayed Grief...

Kevin died a year ago this past Tuesday. Today is the day his facebook friends found out he was gone. My feed is filled with grief today as people mark the year. 

I wrote about him on my Thirty Days of Thanks on the 21st. He shares the 21st with Jack (Brent's father). Jack's birthday, Kevin's death day. Life and death marked together as is the way in my family. I'm not sure yet if it's a good poetic reminder or a fucking gut punch. But it is. So I hold space for both when they happen.

But for three days those of us where weren't local didn't know he was gone. In our minds and hearts he was still alive. Delayed grief without realizing it was delayed. 

Kevin and I would have had a really deep philosophical talk about it if it hadn't been him who had died. First he would have taken a walk down to the local dispensary, and then we would have talked about when the death actually occurs, is it when the person stops living or when the people they love all find out, does it happen in stages? The people who are closest find out and death starts. Like a ripple in a pond maybe, until the farthest circle happens death isn't complete. Schrodinger's cat for sure would have been mentioned.  

We had a lot of deep talks while he was high and I was just my normal off kilter self. I miss that. His altered state and my normal were the same wavelength but with different life experiences. So we understood each other but also got new perspectives and new things to ponder. And also new weird food combinations to try. Sometimes the things I would come up with to eat when Brent was travelling made Kevin seriously doubt that I have never gotten stoned. And also try them for himself. 

But...

Watching the grief reminders spread this year has reminded me how many people he shared a wavelength with. In different ways. He was a multitude contained in one person. A puzzle piece with all of the different edges that could fit in with a variety of pictures. He meant and still means a lot to a lot of people all over the world.

And, to go back to the rings in a pond analogy, if we are all still remembering and holding that thought is he gone? 

Does anyone die while there are people still holding their memory?

What is the "us" part of us anyway? Is it what we hold in our own bodies or is it what other people hold of us in their hearts? What makes us, us?

I don't fear death. When I die this existence is over. There is no reason to fear it, there was no me before I was born, there will be no me after I die. I don't have existential fears over the prebirth time so why would I have it about the after death?

But the difference between before I was born and after I die will be other people having memory of me. 

I did not exist before. But after I die part of me will live on in the memories of those I leave behind. 

Life after death.

Is that what it really means?

And trying to follow all of that makes you understand why Kevin got stoned...

I miss you, my friend. 

We all miss you. 

 

Family Cycles...

Brent and I were grocery shopping on Saturday picking up the bulk of what we will need for Thanksgiving. Katie is coming home and bringing her girlfriend and their roommate with her. Five for dinner instead of our usual three. 

And because I have so many dietary restrictions and they have a few allergies as well we've been trying to make sure that there is food for everyone. One of the things we've been trying to figure out is the gluten free aspects. We've gotten really used to eating gluten free and Katie hasn't been bothered by it when she's been home but I know it's different. Especially where breads and such are concerned. We also wanted to make sure that we had things they wanted to drink in the house. 

So we are picking up those things that we normally don't have. Some gluten filled wonders. Some drinks. And weighing the options on other things. Should we get this? Should we get that? What do you think? And basically trying to be good hosts for Katie's girlfriend and friend. 

And I had to stop and tell Brent how I really appreciated how hard his mother tried with me. I've talked before about the challenges we had in our relationship but I can see how hard she tried to make sure I was thought about and taken care of. 

For instance I was really sick when Brent and I got married. I had been for a very long time. Just couldn't shake it. And one of the things that came with that particular illness was a wrenching cough. I would cough so hard it would make me vomit. Just awful. Liquid cough syrups are the best for that sort of cough. Or at least they were at the time. But I hate liquid cough syrup. It's almost impossible for me to choke it down. (quick aside, learned very late in life that that is actually a normal thing for people on the autism spectrum, that if there is a food texture or taste that you don't like you literally cannot swallow it. Your throat constricts and game over. Which actually makes me wonder if what we think of as autism is actually a remnant of a survival skill from our ancestors, can't swallow poisonous plants. Anyway, back to our story...) So Ann went to the pharmacy and made them crack open bottle after bottle of liquid cough medicine until she found one that had the mildest flavor for me to take. 

How amazing is that? 

She was challenging in a lot of ways but she really tried hard to make sure we had a positive relationship. 

As I stood in that grocery store trying to decide if a woman I don't really know would like vanilla ice cream over french vanilla ice cream I understood on a deeper level than I had before. 

I mean, I understood, logically, that both Jack and Ann had strained to zero relationships with their parents and they understood that if they wanted any sort of relationship with Brent that path was going to go through me as soon as we decided to get married. I got it. I knew what they were doing. 

But Saturday I felt it. 

That feeling of how important it was. 

Katie has a girlfriend. They've been together for over a year now. I don't know if they will be together forever but as for right now they are planning a future together. All decisions are made together. Katie bases things she does around Slushy's wellbeing. 

And because of that it's important for me to make our relationship a decent one as well. For it to feel comfortable in my house. 

I understood before what Ann was doing. Now I feel it. 

You Have to Believe...

She had always believed in magic. 

It was hard to hold on to that belief as she got older. 

Not because she lost her belief but because others tried their best to take it from her.

They were constantly trying to educate away the small everyday magics in her life.

Dew drops on plants first thing in the morning when there had been no rain. Lightning flashing across in the sky in patterns that looked like letters if she could only remember the letters she had seen before. The different patterns of clouds in the sky. Some fluffy and high like cotton candy, some flat and scattered like they had been painted by a giant brush. 

Every class she had, worked to explain the phenomena that she saw. And the answer was never magic. 

And it wasn't okay with them that she didn't want to know. You couldn't clap your hands over your ears and say NO SPOILERS! and make them stop. You had to know this thing and that thing for the test. And if you failed the test they didn't let you keep your belief they made you take even more classes where they spent even more time explaining away everything that was beautiful. She couldn't find any way to get out of it.

When she was in middle school one of her classmates was allowed to leave class during certain science lessons. He was excused due to his family's religious beliefs. They couldn't make him learn something he didn't believe in and he had a note saying so. 

Her classmate hated that he had to leave. He hated that he was singled out and made to feel different. He hated that the kids teased him and called him a fundy. Even though they didn't really know what a fundy was. 

She actually thought being a fundy sounded kind of nice. Fun was right there in the word. And it meant that you didn't have to learn certain things. Though he was never dismissed during the classes she would want to be dismissed during. He mostly skipped evolution and sex education. Which evolution was kind of magic even when they tried to explain it away so she didn't mind that one. He also was rarely allowed to watch the movies the class got as special treats. Which seemed really unfair but he didn't want to make them watch the only movies his parents would have approved. Which when she asked him one day what those movies were he said he didn't want to talk about it. Not fun at all.  

By the time she was in high school she had learned that religious people did not like their beliefs compared to magic. Even though a lot of it was magical thinking and she never could figure out what the difference was between a miracle and magic. But somehow they knew, and it was important to them that it was different. 

She worked her way through various clubs and organizations. Most of the time when people talked about magic they meant tricks. And they wanted to teach her how to do them too. Which was worse than not having anyone else who loved magic around her. Those people were as bad as her teachers in school. They took something that was magic and made it a trick. And then told people it was magic even though it was a trick and could be taught. It made her head and her heart hurt. 

She tried a group of wiccans but they got mad at her when she asked about magic. We DON'T do that! That's insulting! Well, yeah, it was insulting. How could they call themselves witches when what they really were was just a group of women who liked to camp? Even the ones who did things like charge crystals by the full moon made up pseudosciencey sounding things to explain away what they were clearly hoping was magic. 

Sometimes there would be someone who seemed like they believed as well. They did things like building fairy doors in their gardens. But usually when she talked to them about it they just claimed it was art. Nobody believed fairies really lived in your garden after all. 

It was almost impossible to hold on to the magic that seemed so easy when she was younger. 

Thank goodness she had Clyde. He believed as well. And she trusted him when he spoke to her. When he would tell her that she was right. That there was magic in the world. That the dew drops were really left from the fairies who played on the roses in the night. That the lightning did make letters and sometimes whole words but so quickly that most people couldn't read their secrets. That giants did paint the clouds in the sky. Even though some of them just called it art and pretended there weren't humans there to appreciate the patterns. She trusted Clyde. 

Even though people tried and tried to say dogs were more trustworthy than cats. 

And Go!

Easing my way back into my routines. Which of course would all be blown up this week because of the holiday anyway. But starting to ease back in. 

It's interesting because I really wasn't that sick with Covid. Not like you think of being sick. I had a fever for basically a day. I had a little dry cough that would come and go but it was like *cough, cough* done for another 8 hours. I was really congested for two days. I had a random headache but nothing that was bad. Like a head unpleasant. I've been much sicker with colds for sure. But the fatigue...oh my goodness the fatigue. 

And that's still here. We went to a hockey game on Friday (I tested negative on Thursday) and I only made it through two periods before we headed home. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. At a HOCKEY game. And today we are going to go see a musical but it was supposed to be go to the musical then go to the hockey game and we are skipping the hockey game because I cannot imagine I would be able to stay perky enough for that long to enjoy it. 

And my lungs are finally, I want to say clearing, but it's not like when you have a phlegmy cough or that sort of lung congestion. They've just felt heavy. Like breathing was a little harder than normal. Diminished capacity for sure. But that is finally starting to lift. Which I have to think is tied to the exhaustion. Not getting enough oxygen makes you tired.

So now I'm ready to start facing the world again. I mean I still have a bum arm so it's still going to be light work until I can get the procedure done and go through rehab, but pre Covid routine anyway. 

Which means sitting down to write (aren't you lucky that you are getting a health update/planning document to start?) and tomorrow I am going to try and workout. 

I haven't been on the treadmill, which is what I was reduced to since I can't lift weights right now, in two weeks. I told Brent I can't decide if I'm feeling so sluggish because I'm still recovering or if I'm feeling so sluggish because I haven't been able to work out. He said yes. Which is most likely true. 

Now, I do not believe I will be able to go at the pace or the length I was doing before I got sick. I don't feel like I have that level of energy or lung capacity yet. But at least I'll try and do SOMETHING. And start building back up. 

Because I need to move to be able to continue moving. And that's my biggest priority. I want to live to be 100 but a healthy 100 not a husk of my former self 100. So that means getting moving again. 

So here we are. At the end of my personal pandemic (now endemic) saga and ready to start back on daily life. 

And I'm really thankful for that. Even though we are past the part where people were dying by the thousands from this. Even though it's become just part of life that people get Covid and are home sick for a bit. Even though it's not that big of a deal anymore...Even though.  Ann still died from Covid and I still get a little bit of panic each time someone I know tests positive. Including me. 

I think a lot of us are still suffering from a little Covid induced PTSD and it's okay. It was a huge trauma we all went through together. I think it would be weird if we weren't a little shell shocked over it. 

But now the trick is to get moving again. 

Listening...

 “I think someone’s listening.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I know?”

“No, why do you think someone’s listening?”

“Because it’s very quiet when we aren’t speaking.”

“Okay…”

“Like too quiet.”

“Or just that’s what happens when you stop speaking, it’s quiet.”

“But not like this. This is like really quiet. Listen.”

 

“Okay…”

“No, really listen. Like just sit still and wait a little bit.”

“How long?”

“Don’t set a timer, then you’ll be listening for that. Just sit and don’t listen for anything in particular. Just listen.”

“Won’t I be listening for the silence no matter what I’m doing?”

“Stop making it difficult. Just listen. It’s a heavy silence.”

 

 

 

“See?”

“No. It just seemed like we stopped talking. That’s all.”

“Fine. But just keep in mind that I think someone’s listening and be careful what you say.”

“I’m always careful what I say.”

Later when she was cleaning up the room, she found a note. “I know they are listening. Stop talking about them listening. They are ALWAYS listening.”

She knew it was too quiet.

Talismans...

Eight years ago a car manufacturer issued a recall for one of their brands. 

It was Kia, it was on Friday the 13th and it was for the Soul. Kia is Recalling Souls was the headline and it amused me so much that I made it my status update. 

Dana turned it into a writing prompt and posted that as the first comment. 

I was in the middle of a NaNo stint where I was writing fiction every day. Either working on my long story WIP (that I've never finished and probably never will, totally fell out of love with it) or writing a short piece for the blog. I ended up writing 21 different short stories that November. Which is pretty darn good, if I do say so myself. 

So anyway, when Dana wrote that sentence I heard the bell in my head but was busy with another story that day so I made a quick note to come back to that post, that line, and that story. The note was "Dana's Defective Soul." 

Once that notebook was full and I needed to start another one I did my usual routine of paging through to see if there was anything that I wanted to copy from the old pages to the new. A quote I liked. A story idea I had never gone back to. And there is was: Dana's Defective Soul. It made me laugh out loud. If you didn't know what it was about it was a great non sequitur. And if you knew Dana, and specifically the fact that Brent and I often call her some variation on the daughter of my black soul, it would make you laugh too. 

So even though I wrote the story right away and didn't technically need the note I copied it over anyway.

And 8 years later it's still on the front page of my notebook. It's become a talisman of sorts. Something that makes me laugh and also something that reminds me that I can write. I do have moments of raging creativity that can be sparked by something as simple as a headline on a fortuitous date. And that I have people around me who are also crazy creative who I can lean on when I feel I need some creative help. Dana writes. Like capital W writes. I love everything she does. I feel sorry for all of you who don't get to read her stuff and I am her biggest cheerleader for getting published. 

She also sends me writing prompts when she sees ones that are in my wheelhouse. We have similar tastes but her writing is more grounded than mine. (And more technically proficient, I don't think I've ever read a piece of hers where she switched perspective in the middle and then claimed it as a style choice instead of a mistake, hypothetically of course...I mean I would never...) And most of the time when she sends me a prompt it does cause that bell to ring and I'm off to the races.

I love that bell ring moment. When I hear something or see something and it resonates in my head. THIS WILL BE A STORY. It starts the gears turning. The dialog, the scene, the feeling. Whatever it is about that moment that spins out into a story. Depending on if I can sit and write right away or if there is enough there yet to sit and write right away I start working it out in my head. Often I've "written" a scene or a piece of dialog multiple times while cleaning a bathroom, or washing dishes, or going for a walk. I know that I've written really great stories that became sort of okay when trying to remember them to write them down. Or at least that's what I tell myself...

I think that's what I'm looking for in 2024. More of those bell ring moments. Not just with writing but with life in general. Those moments where you know that this is the right path. This is what you should be working on right now. This is your story. 

And speaking of stories, here is the link to the story I'm talking about. The opening line is what Dana wrote in response to my post, without the "and go!" part. 

Help Yourself #11....

Now I feel sort of badly that I went ahead and switched my combo bio and self help book to December because this one would have been a great one to go out on. 

Radiant Rebellion: Reclaim Aging, Practice Joy, and Raise a Little Hell by Karen Walrond

I know right? 

And it totally lived up to the title. It was more of a book about her journey, when she hit 55 and realized that she needed to really evaluate what her next steps looked like. A lot of good stuff in there. Including a whole section on internalized ageism. Even those of us who aren't really afraid of getting older, or who try our best to embrace it harbor some of that feeling and it was interesting to have that mirror held up.

Basically a lot of times what we think of as problems with being old aren't really due to age at all. Like when you think to yourself, I am old, what are you really thinking about right then? I am tired. I am stressed. I am not in the shape I used to be. I don't feel sexy. I don't feel seen. What is it really and is it something you can fix? 

What do we mean when we talk about being young? Do we mean vibrant? Sexy? Full of potential? What do we really mean by young and old? 

I am older. There are things that go along with that. But also there are things that are in my control. When you age you lose muscle tone. People don't really know why. (Isn't that a kicker?) Possibly hormonal changes, possibly some function in the cells related to time, possibly a biological throwback to needing less protein resources so the members of your tribe that were still having kids could have more and you could exist on fewer. BUT I can help negate that loss by making sure I'm doing weight bearing exercise to keep the muscles I have in good shape so I can be independent and pain free. 

My hormones are shifting and that comes with a host of other side effects but I can change the way I eat, or take supplements to help balance that. 

None of that is a problem. It's a difference in life time periods, but it's not a pathology. 

She talked about finding a guiding purpose, a spark statement, a cause, ways that you like to play and making sure you do it. Keeping your own style in mind, if you want to go gray, go gray. Don't dress a certain way because you're "supposed" to but dress in a way that when you look in the mirror you say Oh there I am!

I know, a lot of this sounds like stuff I've been talking about for awhile and I know that's why I liked it so much. But it's always nice to find people that agree with you. And she doesn't just write about what she thinks, she talks to people who are working on those things. It's a self help book full of self help books.

Here is another funny aside to the book...

She talks a lot throughout that she has her notebook; where she writes things down, where she ponders her life questions and sets intentions, works out ideas. At the end of the book she has a section on how you can set up your own notebook to follow what she did that year. The things she asked herself about what she wanted to do and how she wanted to live. Sectioned out like the book, the questions you could write out. The Radiant Rebellion manifesto to put in the front. 

So as I was reading that the American Consumer Former Marketer in me thought...she should have published a workbook to go with her book. People would buy a ready made version of this with blank spaces to fill in their own writing. So I went and looked to see if she had. 

There are two workbooks to go with the book on Amazon. Someone else has made them. More American Capitalist than me, I just thought she should have, they figured out a way to make money on her work. 

I won't be setting up my own version of her notebook. I sort of already have a place where I write out my thoughts on all of those subjects... but I do recommend the book. Her book, not the knockoff notebooks.

Hopefully next month's book will be a good one because this one was one of the best of lot. 

Letter...

When the letter showed up, I wasn’t even curious. Not really. I mean, okay, I was a little curious. Just in a vague “who would just drop a letter on the porch” sort of way. But not like overly curious.

I just brought it inside and set it on the kitchen counter where we put all of the unopened mail. Because really it was just mail, right? I mean if it had come in the mailbox, I wouldn’t have paid any attention to it at all. Just dropped it on the counter with any other mail for the day that wasn’t addressed to me.

Because this wasn’t addressed to me, it wasn’t any of my business at all. No reason to be curious. If it had been addressed to me then of course I would have wondered “who dropped a letter off to me like this?” before I opened it and found out.

Not that I was going to open this letter. Because I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t really curious about it.

Not really. I mean I did pick it up and look at it a few times. I might have even held it up to the light a little to see if I could see what was in the envelope. I wasn’t like really curious as to what a letter might say, but what if it wasn’t a letter? What if it was like powder or something that I shouldn’t keep on the counter where the cats could knock it off or the kids could get into it accidentally? I mean, there was that big anthrax scare like 30 years ago, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

But I wasn’t like super curious about it.

It was a letter. It had just been dropped off on the porch without anyone even tripping the Ring camera. I mean, sure I looked at that footage to see if I could find out who dropped it off, but that was more about concern that I didn’t get a notification that someone came that close to the door. What good is a doorbell camera if it doesn’t record people coming close to the doorbell? So, I watched the footage. A few times. Nothing.

But that’s not that big of a deal. Sometimes it just doesn’t catch everything. It doesn’t mean that someone was really careful to come up to the door at the exact right angle to not trip the cameras. Doing it purposefully so I, I mean we, wouldn’t be able to see who dropped it off. I’m sure it was just a coincidence.

It was just a letter. Dropped off on the porch by some mystery person. Not addressed to me. It’s not a big deal. Nothing to be curious about at all.

And even if I was really curious all I would have had to do was text him that a letter came for him, and did he want me to open it and he would say sure. Because why wouldn’t he? So, I didn’t have a reason to worry about anything which meant I didn’t have to be curious.

And since I knew exactly what he would say did I really even need to bother him with a text?

Not that I was going to open the letter.

That was until he sent me a text asking if anyone had dropped something off for him. And when I asked what he was expecting he suddenly had to go into a meeting and would talk to me later.

Now that was a little curious right? Why would you text me and then not have time to answer a question? Like a simple question too. Nothing that needed a lot of time. Just a quick, so and so was going to drop off a letter. That’s all. Easy.

I looked back over the Ring footage one more time and yeah, there was no time where you saw the letter get dropped off or saw it on the mat because it was too close to the door for the camera angle, and I picked it up when I brought in the UPS package that was delivered later, that was on the camera. But not the letter. There was no sign that the letter was delivered at all. Or that it was picked up.

If someone else got curious about it, they wouldn’t be able to tell it had come. If I said there was nothing delivered for him, the only thing that came today was the UPS package of things I had ordered from Amazon. See? Here’s the box…

That would be all there was.

I’m sure he would be curious as to why someone told him they dropped off a letter and there was no letter but…

When the letter showed up, I wasn’t even curious. Not really.

Plague Days...

Just an update blog on the week. 

...

And there it is. 

Thank you. 

Kidding. I mean sort of but not really. 

I spent the week sitting on the couch for the most part. Everytime I would do anything it required a lot of sitting time afterward. The exhaustion was real. 

Yesterday was peak whiny sick time. That's one of the levels of sick we have in our house. We have barely sick, sort of sick, whiny sick and really sick.  Whiny sick is when you are sick enough that you can't go do anything but not sick enough that you just want to sleep. It's the bored as fuck of being sick part. The will this ever end point. That was yesterday. 

Today I feel better than I have since Saturday night. Which yesterday morning I felt really good too until around 10 AM and then WHAM! Just so tired. So I think that's why it went from this isn't terrible to I HATE THIS SO MUCH. 

But today, today at 11:30 AM I still feel better than I have. I'm just a little run down instead of totally exhausted. 

Which means we are entering the really difficult portion of the illness. The part where I want to do all the thing instead of continuing to recover. Which with Covid is a bad idea. Rebound sick is a real thing with this virus. Tricky little bastard. So I will try my best to continue to just sit. 

Which I have to tell you either really sucks, or it's a good letting go process for me. Depends on when you ask me. 

My various streaks and goals and gold stars are all slipping away. Unless I feel well enough to walk a little bit on the treadmill tomorrow, this will be the first week in basically a year that I didn't work out at all. There is no way (considering it's Friday) that I will write more days than I didn't write this week. There is a really strong chance I will have no piece to send to Dana on Sunday. The iFit series for this month still has 8 workouts left to complete to get my little virtual badge and since everything and everyone says that even when I'm better working out is going to be a "couple minutes at a time" process of easing back in the odds are strong I won't complete that for the first time in over two years. 

All of my shiny bits are slipping out of my grasp. 

I told Brent about this and he was like, yeah, so? You have to take care of yourself, that's all that matters. And I totally get it. Logically. I mean I'm not forcing myself out to the gym. I didn't even try to write when all I could muster was staring at the wall. But it still sort of sucks. 

Or... it's a really good forced stop. 

Because, let's face it, none of us were positive that when 2023 rolled to 2024 I would be able to stop making little goals lists for myself. Being in a position where I have to stop might just be a good thing. 

I mean, I have plenty of time to wrap up 2023 with the numbers I wanted to hit, just maybe not at the pace I was keeping. And even if I don't, I set up those goals in January before I decided in August that maybe they don't serve me anymore. 

So we will see. That might be the positive that comes out of a week of slammed down doing nothing. 

As far as being actually sick goes, it's been like a cold. A bad cold at times. I've had some fever spikes, a headache here and there, a little dry cough that comes and goes and some serious congestion for a few days. The hardest part to manage has been how tired I have been. If you've ever had mono it's like that. But even my tiredness wasn't as bad as Brent's when he had it last year. He sleep probably 18 hours a day. Not straight but he couldn't stay awake for more than an hour or so without needing a little cat nap at least. So even my stare at the wall state of being was a little better than that. 

I'm hopeful that the trajectory is now solidly on the feeling better swing. And I'm hopeful that Brent continues to be healthy. We made it through his round of Covid last year without me getting it so we are really hopeful we do the flip this time. 

Thank you to everyone for your concern. Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts. Thank you for listening to me whine. 

I'm going to pull one of the fiction pieces I wrote for Dana earlier in the year and post it today as well. Doesn't really count as writing more days than not, but it will make me feel better about the weekly number at least. 

Yeah, I'm working on that no goal thing. I've still got a month and half...

Three Years...

Well I made it three years. Was starting to get really cocky and thinking I'd never catch it. We have friends who have had it multiple times and almost everyone I know has had it at least once. I was one of dwindling number who hadn't ever caught it. I thought, maybe all of those colds I had growing up finally proved helpful!

Well, no. 

Bummer.

Woke up yesterday morning and was just really tired. But that was understandable. Tig had woken up a few times during the night and when he wakes up he wakes up one (or both) of us for cuddles before he goes back to sleep. It's super sweet really, but it's also exhausting when you are woken up a few times and have a hard time getting back to sleep. So Saturday morning I was tired. When I sat down in Sara's chair and got a look at my face with those bright salon lights I thought, "Holy shit, you look even more tired than you feel! Eek!" 

Yesterday evening I was FREEZING. Wearing jeans, a long sleeve shirt and covered with a blanket and just could not get warm. Brent was fine and it was 72 in the house so I decided maybe I should take my temperature. Oh well, 101.9 that explains it. I'm not freezing, I'm feverish. Grabbed one of the Covid tests "just to make sure" because I've got a lot to do this week that is people centric. Really expected it to be fine. 

And nope.

Fuck. 

Sent a message to Sara letting her know that I had germed all over her that morning. Which fucking sucks. I mean it really does. She is back to wearing masks at work because people are germ factories and keep sliming her but still...I didn't think I would be one of them! We have been really consistent about not going out if we don't feel well, just in case, and testing when we've been exposed, just to make sure, and all of that good stuff. And then...

I slimed her. 

Ugh. 

So I feel really awful about that. 

And I am cranky that this means I'll have to reschedule my elbow work. I am not looking forward to the initial recovery and pain that was promised, but I am SO ready to actually be able to grip things again. So now I'll have to wait on that. 

And I'm cranky that we are going to miss the Thorns playoff game. Or miss it live at least. Last home game of the year and I'll be watching from the couch. Bummer.

But other than that it's actually not that bad, so far, and hopefully it stays this way. 

I've been describing it as a bad cold. But it's not even that bad of a bad cold. The fever yesterday was a lot but so far today it's not been bad. There is an annoying little dry cough and when I was talking to Katie today I could feel my voice just giving out and had to end the call while I could still make noise. A little congestion. A little tired. But honestly I don't even feel as bad as I did from the side effects of the first doses of the vaccine. Fingers crossed it doesn't get worse and that it doesn't linger.

And, of course that Brent doesn't end up with it and that Sara's mask protected her so she doesn't as well. 

But there you go. I made it all the way through the pandemic years and didn't catch it until we reached endemic stage. I guess that's something? Also am fully fully vaxxed so I have to think that's a big part of why my symptoms are so mild.

Looking back now knowing that I have it I think I probably was sick starting as early as Thursday but not in a way I would have noticed if it hadn't progressed. See Thursday night over Friday I was really hot overnight. I thought it was just bad hot flashes but they were longer lasting than normal and didn't have that rolling heat feeling that I normally get, but still, hot over night is not unusual. Now I think I was probably spiking a fever and just didn't realize it. And Friday when I was drying off after my shower I had a pain in my armpit. Like a little swelling and tenderness. I thought maybe it was an ingrown hair and I would keep an eye on it, now I think, oh...probably lymph node was churning. And then the tiredness Saturday morning. 

Nothing that isolated I would ever think about for long, but now looking at them all together I think maybe it was just a really slow roll of symptoms. 

So keep an eye out for those sneaky symptoms. And remember no matter how cocky you are feeling it's still out there. 

Bummer.

Pretend It's October...

Well after yesterday's blog about my memory slipping this is super appropriate. Realized that I never posted my end of October catch up. 

So how did it go? 

I'm still in that space of wrapping up all of my goals set for 2023 while settling into the idea of no goals for 55. Which I know sort of doesn't make sense, but it will all slot in in January when I'm done with past commitments. 

Reading: Upped my Goodreads number again when I hit it again. So this year should be a hitting my reading goal number three times year. Which is sort of fun, not going to lie. Oh wait, just looked at Goodreads and I'm upping it AGAIN so four times hitting goal. 

I talked about the self help. Bittersweet by Susan Cain Disappointing because I had such high expectations for it, but still I liked the idea of it. The bio was Sure I'll Join Your Cult by Maria Bamford which was sort of bonkers but also enjoyable and tied into all of the self help books I've been trying out this year by equating them to cults. So that was fun. I read the September Stranglings book because of timing and so I'll also be pushing the October Stranglings to November but it all worked out with the add last month from one of her other clubs. ANYWAY...Land of Milk and Honey by C Pam Zhang. Not my favorite.

I did take Brent's advice and pushed the combo self help/bio out to December. I can see winding down the year with the least amount of things left to do to wrap everything up. 

Writing: I wrote about hitting my goal number for the over all blogs last week. I've still got a few fiction pieces left to write or pull from my archive and post. Also have done well getting Dana her extra piece every other week. And I've kept to writing more days a week than not. Which is why the counts are going to be higher (at least in nonfiction) than what I had worked out. I didn't think I'd keep that pace, and I was going to be happy with 3 out of 7 days. So that's gone well.

Workouts...RECORD SCRATCH....

After months of being really consistent working out the little niggling pain in my elbow finally got to be bad enough to go see a doctor. It's lateral epicondylitis, or tennis elbow. But I don't play tennis so it really bums me out. Super common, not easy to treat without isolating the muscle, basically not using the arm. It's my left arm so that's crazy talk. Especially when looking at the timelines for how long it takes to work. So I'm going in next week for PRP treatment, platelet rich plasma. Basically they are going to draw blood from my right arm, spin it up to isolate the platelets and then inject it back into my elbow joint on my left arm where they will (hopefully) get to work mending the bunged up tendons. 

The doctor was really honest that it's going to hurt. A lot. It causes inflammation as the healing starts so it's going to be pretty unpleasant for a bit. Which means I'm really happy that I'm ahead in my writing since I might be out of commission the second half of next week. And I might just miss my first Dana piece depending on if I get it done early or not. 

But with the injection and then the follow up physical therapy hopefully I'll be all healed up and will be able to grip things again without pain and feeling like they are going to slip out of my hand at any second. 

So workouts...no weightlifting. Which has been a bummer. But I did start jogging. Slowly and only sometimes. I am not a runner, never have been a runner, but I figured if I can't lift for awhile I should do something else that's sort of challenging just to keep from getting really bored. And part of me hopes it helps to reshape my legs a little bit. I love the muscle definition on runners legs, and though mine are strong enough to kick down a door, I've never had much visible tone. Maybe this will do it? If not it's at least been giving me a new challenge to focus on while I workout so I don't just turn all sloth while I heal. 

One more month down, two more to go. 

(we now rejoin your regularly scheduled November already in progress)

Do You Remember 2022 November?

I totally forgot I did my own version of NaNo last year. WriSoMoNo, write some more now. 

I had been looking at my on this day feed from years past and could see the build up of NaNoWriMo the three years I did it and then nothing recently and feeling pretty good that I fought that itch. 

But apparently I didn't. And just last year I did a version of it. Now, it was mine and I cut the word count in half and I only set a goal of 6 fiction pieces out of that word count so it wouldn't even be a sweat to finish but still...

Totally forgot. 

I read the rules I set for myself today and then I read the last blog of the month where I did the 2600 words or so that I was short in my no sweat at all to get that many words in a month month. 

And I did it. (Because I'm me) I wrote exactly that number of words. And I can see that I kept a pretty decent pace at the beginning of the month. Then things sort of fell apart. I had a massive sciatica attack that kept me from sleeping and being able to sit. Both things kind of hinder thinking and writing. Brent got Covid so I spent some time worrying about that. Katie came for Thanksgiving but it was the first year where you could tell she really would have rather not been here with us. At least not totally. Her chosen family is in Bend. And even though she didn't have a break from her born into family, there is still a longing to be with your chosen family at the holidays. This year all of them are coming here. Should be interesting.

And then Kevin died and from that moment on it was hard to think about anything else but that. 

Apparently so hard that I completely wiped the whole WriSoMoNo experience from my memory. 

I mean, that's the charitable interpretation. That it was grief. But honestly it was probably just age. It's crazy to me how much I forget and how quickly I forget it now. Teflon in the brain. Things slide in and right back out again. 

Why did I walk into this room? 

What was that brilliant idea I had while I was walking on the treadmill?

What was it that I REALLY needed from the store again?

It's always been that way with the fiction I write. Which is so weird. But I write quickly. The words rush out, I write them down. If I'm feeling sassy I proofread it once or maybe even twice, but not always (obviously to most of you) and I post. BOOM done. Which leads to me reading pieces I've written and surprising myself by how it turns out. 

Now it's the nonfiction as well. 

Lots of studies about how it will balance back out after I'm completely through the menopause transition. But by balance back out I'm not sure if they mean I will stop forgetting things at such a rapid pace or if I will stay at this level of forgetfulness forever. I'm pretty sure one of the studies I read said which one but...yeah...I don't remember.

But it did surprise me to see that I had done a NaNo version last year that I had zero memory of doing. 

Wouldn't it be nice if we could choose the things that vacate our brains so quickly? I mean there are things I remember from years and years ago that have no value in my life today. But that thing that I REALLY needed to pick up from the grocery store? That would be good to know. 

I guess the real bonus is that I can now rewrite every blog topic I've ever written and think they are new. And since more than a few of you are close to my age there is a group that will think they are new as well. The rest of you can just sit back and think...oh Nana is wandering again...

So if you'll excuse me I'm going to go stare at the pantry for a bit and try to figure out what that thing is. I mean, I know there is something...would like to remember what it is before I go to the grocery store this week. Again. 

Changing of the Seasons...

Have you ever stopped to listen to the sound of leaves blowing down a road? 

The scratch of the dried edges hitting the pavement. 

The skitter sound of a leaf that doesn't take flight but just skims along.

The almost whispering sound of a group rustling together as a gust takes them, swirls them around, then drops them back to the ground. 

Do you think they are wondering how they got there?

Just a few weeks ago we were living our best lives soaking up the sun hanging out on branches. Then there were those glorious days where everyone walking by stopped to stare at us. Oh so beautiful. What bright colors!

How did we end up in a pile on the street? 

Being tossed by the wind. 

Trampled on by children.

Raked, blown, MULCHED.

How did this happen?

Have you ever seen a giant pile of leaves in someone's yard from all of their trees and wondered if they were catching up with each other. 

What did you do this summer? How was it over in elm corner? The oaks had a great time! New family of squirrels moved in. Oh what nuts they are. Oh my no, pun not intended!

All tidy and piled up and then WHAM! a kid or a dog or both jumping in and scattering them all over. Do you think they find it fun or terrifying? Are they in on the game or panicking because everyone they were settled in with are now scattered everywhere. 

What about the ones that get chosen for school art projects? 

Do you think they feel special? Pretty? Fancy? Like their shot at the Met Gala. 

Or is it a feeling of sacrificing yourself for the rest of the group. I'll go. You stay. Beware the kindergarten children...they are coming for you.

Does the glue chafe? Not to mention the melted crayons. Is that a spa treatment or a torture device?

They say to let the leaves stay on your grass now. Don't rake them up. Leave the leaves alone. Let them become homes for butterfly larva. Protection for the bees. Let them naturally breakdown in the weather. Feed the plants they way they are supposed to. It's not messy, it's nature. 

Do you think the ones that get to stay panic when the wind blows? They know in their yard they are part of a whole. In the Johnson's yard they are fodder for the bonfire. 

They do not feed the lawn, protect the bees, house the butterfly larva. IT'S WORMS, GLADYS! JUST FANCY WORMS!

Do you ever watch the leaves and wonder...

"Hey, whatcha thinking about?"

"Hunh? Oh nothing, just watching the leaves blow in the wind."