Momentous Sniveling

February 23, 2014

Complaining can get me everywhere. At least that is what seems to be the motivation behind whimpering about the  nostril-hair-freezing temps, stockpiles of snow so high I cannot tell where the dog has meandered off to during our walks, gas gone up one day so I race to fill the tank, only to have it drop five cents the next morning, my Visa bill is coming and has my Izmir airline ticket price screams at me, and I am out of half-n-half therefore won’t choke down black coffee and have to resort to tea. My vocal distress only leads to more of the same. My essential oil diffuser spewing “Awaken” and “Peace and Calming,” deep breaths and a vigorous Pilates workout are what I need to jolt myself out of the trap.

A Gallery Opening took me out of my usual fray and into the splash of downtown life for an hour or two. Startling cement-box condos, elaborate stark décor, jolt me into submission. We meander three levels of jutting open-air layers, sipping tart wine, eating exclusive sweet and savory snacks, hobnobbing among friends. Felt as though I came from the rural naivety, sliced into the world (like Pullman’s The Subtle Knife) of trend and aristocratic posh. A kindred spirit chided the group about the evils of plastic water bottles, encouraged enlightened purchasing power, and won my applause. The alcohol took the edge off my icy driving jitters and I made it home lickety split. A bit of slipping and sliding, but I have no complaints.

Like the Plague, Only Better

February 22, 2014

I woke up this morning and diagnosed a very early case of happiness. This was before the cat meowed incessantly; dogs stood and shook their winter-weighted coats, collar tags jangled in alarm. Before I hit the frigid bathroom tiles and cold toilet seat. Everyone has to eat prior to my cranking up the coffeemaker, and enjoying my first cup of warmth. I can smell the pleasure of happy. Feel the sensation trolling down my spine, though twinges of pain shoot along the edges, remind me to apply essential oils to the skin. Shoveling can’t replace Pilates.

How did that rare, contagious disease hit so rapidly? Contentment is the norm ‘round here. Joy creeps-in on occasion. Maybe it has something to do with our little local Seed Library opening today. We are expecting a mob at the Riverview Branch, a crowd interested in building community through growing food in our yards and saving seeds to spread the wealth for next year.

I aim to spread this sickness to others today, all day, touching light switches, faucets, doorknobs, shaking hands and kissing babies, so beware. If I am within spitting distance, before the stroke of midnight, you will most likely catch happiness.

Ben Gay Snow Day

February 21, 2014

Snow has made it’s way under the door and into the house. Sneaky. The guy across the way, left two hours ago, making his way to the airport, and there is no sign of his footprints in the fresh flurries.

I have to generate a concrete strategy for shoveling this morning since the reservoirs are full. If I can manage to scoot the heavy mass down the long strip of driveway, may be able to accomplish it before I leave for work at 2:25, a mere seven hours from now. My arms, lower back, and hips already protest the rigorous lifting. Can hardly complain, at least I have an intact home, whose thermostat displays “59,” water runs freely out of the sink, and the shower is hot again. Fortune.

The kids are off from school so the Billy Goat tramping from upstairs, has been going on all day. Bella, the little dog I am caring for until tomorrow, sounds-off at each firm step, as though the intruder is coming down on top of our heads. After a long walk in the deep drifts, however, she is lounging on the side chair, finally accustomed to the footsteps. I fear her long, mournful howls that reverberate through the duplex, will alarm the neighbors, as I leave for my work shift. She doesn’t like being left at home, despite the fact that there is another dog here, as well as the guard cat, for companionship. No one to supply a lap for her comfort, though. Poor thing.

Tech Smart

February 20, 2014

Social media scares me. I am lucky to have texting capability on my cell phone, let alone navigating FB, Tweet, play the LinkedIn game, and check my four email address’ “In” boxes. Getting an updated photograph that doesn’t resemble Bob Barker (sorry Bob, no offense) is a challenge. Writing blogs, newsletters, texts, emails, and class material is the easy part. The bookkeeping, attachments, links, posts, ad pop-ups, Google followers, friending, ebook, calendar, scheduling, project recovery, contracts, accepting new friends, auto replys, and fetching a hot cup of tea in between, is more than my furry assistant can handle. Guess I have to raise the stakes.

Keeping my phone and ipod charged and cleaning the cat litter box is overwhelming at times. I got my SUV stuck, careening out of the driveway yesterday. Yes, I am freed, at the moment. Just took a bit of shoveling, language that sent the neighbor kids home, and some aggressive rocking, to release the tire from the high snow bank. Guess I should have hacked more at the ice divots in the area between the sidewalk and street. The Saint Paul City plow creates a dugout and I am out of steam, after piling snow up and over my shoulder height for an hour and a half, only to jab at the built-up ice.

Ken, the neighbor quite a ways down the block, was out, sprinkling de-ice granules. He said he had taken a flying leap, landing on his tailbone at the bottom of his wooden stairs by the garage. The cement doesn’t help, nor does wearing cowboy boots. “Fashion before practicality!” I cheered.

Paper Mate

Papers, scattered across the tabletop, actually, every flat surface in the house, are taking over. They have been breeding overnight, perhaps the moment I walk out of the room, unkempt, disorganized, scribbled in my illegible “doctor” handwriting. Generating it all onto the laptop is my goal for the week. It is insurmountable and yet, doable, if I sort, create piles of similar subject matter and begin, one mound at a time, to type, then format, edit, create a file folder, save it in the correct spot, where I am able to locate it when I need it (that means I also have to recall the name of the document,) and drop the scraps in the recycle bin.

It is an addiction. Writing on the backs of envelopes, saving torn sheets, even a quarter of a piece of paper, that has a glaring blank spot left, to jot some little tidbit.

Signed-up for a new credit card to pay for the on-line class I intend to plow through in a short eight weeks. It is all very frightening but I vowed to do something scary every day. Not jumping off the top of the snow pile (up to my shoulders now) scary, simply things that have been out of my comfort zone for a very long time.

I realize, from when I was small, I started receiving messages such as “That behavior is inappropriate,” “Nice people don’t say/act that way,” “This is not polite,” “Women/girls don’t do that,” It certainly did not have to be what people around me said, a look, body stance or emotional reaction, sensations that turned friends away, were all stored in the “Don’t” File.

I am taking them out of their wraps, trying them on for size, deeming what freaks me out the most, determining how confident I feel any particular day, choosing one, and doing it.  Sometimes things appear out of thin air, and I know I must absorb that one NOW.  

My Environment class ends in three weeks so there will be a bit of an overlap in my studies. Guess I could skip my “How I Met Your Mother”/”House of Cards”/”Lie to Me”/”Nurse Jackie”/”New Girl” or “Mr. Rogers” episode. Drat.

Battle Ground

February 17, 2014

Studied the flood, hurricane, tsunami, extreme heat, and drought disasters of the planet data for my Energy, the Environment and Our Future course. I recall reading an article about war-soldiers being directed to shoot to maim versus kill, and considered that method, while researching the destruction of nature. The attempt to rescue survivors gives the opposing side another opportunity to take out more soldiers. It appears Mother Nature has a similar tactic. Aside from the natural disaster deaths, numbering millions, the true cost of rebuilding entire cities, developing the infrastructures and recreating systems is immense. Delving into the horrific statistics from the 2012 Rio Summit on Disaster Preventions made me realize just how far I have been from an event like Hurricane Katrina. We are studying the economic effects of these catastrophes to take apart the environmental impact on the planet. There is a direct correlation with the heating up of the planet to an increase in catastrophic occurrences.  What do we aim to do about it? How can we prevent such destruction from occurring? Who will be without bargaining power next? When will another ruinous bomb take place? Where will I be when it happens? Why do folks still turn away from the implications of global warming?

I had no reason to be unhappy.

February 16, 2014

I had no idea I would be out shoveling snow again today.

I had no clue Laura would find out Bella was eating cat poop the last time she was here.

I had no earthly idea I didn’t finish my homework and quiz on Thursday and had to race to catch up…got a 10 out of 10!

I had no chance to do my Blogilates today so I had better get out the yoga mat.

I had no business doing business with an ex-boyfriend who crapped-out on my project.

I had no eggs in the house so I ate cereal with yogurt for breakfast.

I had no time to wash the car but it is supposed to snow again anyway.

I had no plans this morning so I took the dogs for an extra long walk.

I had no training on editing my website so I will have to find help soon.

I had no clean underwear…just kidding.

I had no strange dreams that I can recall.

I had no inkling I would be writing this out in a blog tonight.

I had no friends over today but chose to clean the house.

I had no regrets.