Class Mates

December 5, 2013

     Since when is a hoodie and a pair of tennis shoes sufficient for an eight degree evening? I am astounded by a van, careening up the hill, the bottom half of the windshield encased in snow. I stand, staring incredulously as the driver waves at me, oblivious to his palpable demise. Cars lurch around the slick corners as though the driver is Mario Andretti and completely in control of the precarious two-wheel spin situation. Ha.

     Spent another day hunkered down in my sub-zero duplex. I feel like the Goodrich fellow, padded in several long-sleeved shirts, sweaters and at times, my fleece robe over the top,  waddling around with a grin plastered on my face, cup of tea in my paw.

     Made pumpkin/peanut butter/duck jerky holiday cookies for the dogs in our lives. They are wobbly and a strange color but Donut from upstairs ran around in circles, I assume in delight, after experimenting her first warm snack. She came right up to me, begging for more. Tyrus didn’t even bother to chew, his treat went down with the intake of his breath.

     Signed up to take an on-line business class, only to discover it began on the 2^nd of December and I am three days behind. In a panic when I take the test, but come around and remember to breathe when my score of 9.52 out of 10 comes up on the screen. Where I got the additional .02 is beyond my comprehension. At least I could recall my name, which is a great feat since it normally escapes me at the announcement of a test. The back of people’s heads show up on the screen as the instructor (Mr G) covers the material from the front of the classroom. They look, sound and emit youth, bumbling around with responses as Mr G tosses, seemingly theoretical questions, like a football player zinging his ball into the crowd after a touchdown. We discuss companies like Netflix, the popular and crazy lucrative tech Dell, Google, etc as well as examples of innovative start-ups from students in years past. We have a lot to live up to!

     For the next six weeks, I will be flinging the cat from my lap, watching class on video, taking exams and meeting up with virtual groups on Facebook. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t intend to put my self at risk. It just happened. Like eating a whole box of ice cream bars in one sitting. It cannot be explained.

Winter Wonderland

December 4, 2013

Shoveling is an art form. I stab at the dense fluff, attempting to get the ergonomic shovel to cooperate. The eighty something year old neighbor shows me up with his perfectly edged sidewalk and driveway while my space looks as though DeJohn pushed the snow removal equipment. The shame of it all.

I find myself peering at the computer screen at 1:00pm and realize it is barely light inside. The clouds overpower the sunlight and I exit the cave to walk the dog after maneuvering around the chunks of snow in the drive. There is a snow blower parked in the garage yet I fail to start the machine, flooding it immediately. Machinery and I do not get along well. I feel better when the guy upstairs arrives home from a short day at work, and cannot crank it either. We shovel the remaining piles in the driveway together, though I managed most of it on my own before he arrived. He owes me, big time.

Hopefully there will be more snow so he can take his turn with the bright orange socially responsible shovel. My left hip is hurting, shoulders pinched and cramped but I cross the day off the calendar with vigor. First big snowfall and I didn’t whimper once. Eggnog and shot of whiskey before a bath is my home remedy for winter ailments.

A Shot Rang Out

December 2, 2013

The snow shouldn’t scare me like it does. I worry most about the other drivers on the roads, who panic behind the wheel at the first sign of flakes. The Smith bridge appears like sheer ice in the cold of the night and the cars creep along as though there is chance of a break in the ice and we could all fall through to our death. Even the sturdy SUV’s inch forward at an agonizingly slow pace. The dog races out in the new flurries, careening along the wet grass, bathing in the fluff. Acts like a puppy again, barreling around the yard like a boy let out of school early.  

The police are calling an emergency meeting for the neighborhood to talk about the recent crime activity in our area. They are asking for us to reply to an email address with our contact information to know all of the attendees. Taelor and I heard three shots as we walked the neighborhood one night this weekend. It didn’t sound like a gun but I phoned in the incident. The clerk suggested someone was already investigating the matter. I didn’t hear anything of it on the NextDoor Block Club messages. Feels like Mayberry since the cold came-on, the parks and streets are vacant of the usual suspects. I will attend the meeting and give you an update as I have more information on the situation. Doesn’t hurt to be informed.

Heading out to put my Maple Syrup sign in the front yard. Need to get it out there before the ground freezes. Counting on the neighbors having a sweet tooth.

We Don't Have a Money Tree

December 1, 2013

My client’s nine year old great grandson was making a lengthy Christmas list. His mother glanced over his shoulder at the items he rapidly scratched-out on the paper.  “Wow, those are expensive gifts. You know we can’t afford to buy you all of those things,” she insists. “Oh, then we can ask Grandma B to buy them for me,” he decided. His mom shot back “No, Grandma B doesn’t have that kind of money either!” “Haven’t you ever heard of a credit card?” he flung back at her. “Then you don’t have to pay for it now.” Got that right.

Cyber Monday tomorrow. Heard there is a chance to purchase inexpensive flights to Chicago so my daughter can go to the Turkish Consulate to get her VISA for the coming Spring Semester abroad. I can’t keep track of all these new holidays. They fly past and I live, unaware, in the dark recesses with the other non-shoppers.

I saunter down infamous Summit Avenue with the mansions in the backdrop, crisscross through alleys, just beyond the gorgeous homes, admiring Christmas decorations and well-tended lawns. My mind wanders to the lifestyle “they” lead. I laugh, chortle, giggle and nearly choke in the absurdity of my thoughts. I honestly do not have a clue how “they” live, what their income levels are, how much they dole-out for utilities, placing the angel statues on the rooftop, lawn care, shoveling services, what kind of food “they” eat, how they keep themselves entertained etc.

I suspect I have the wrong idea about “them.” Or perhaps not. It is a perspective (that I know what goes on behind closed doors) I am shifting, about me, them, and all in between. I simply enjoy what “they” have to offer me-a joyful passage witnessing the comfort of their homes, in all their glory.

Little Big Mouse

This is my version of Little Mouse:

Little Big Mouse

I am the mouse, the mighty little mouse. I invite you to open your inquisitive ears. Hear me, as I speak of your innate greatness.

You are one, of so many, in a world that glorifies the accomplishments of the very few. How can you recognize your mark?  How can you reflect the significance in your life?  How can you show up, let others know you are available to share the talents that you possess within you, all bursting to find their way out in the world?

I will tell you how, right now.  Instead of being a reflection of the projected views and opinions of others ... Be who you are.  Show the power and enlightenment that you are. Share what you are and what you have within you.  Allow your incredible Self to express uniqueness.  Allow your amazing, insightful Self to be creative, by tapping the truth that lies deep inside.

You may be a little mouse in the eyes of others, yet a wise elephant within your own heart.  Your truth may be a soaring eagle, a floating monarch butterfly or a dolphin leaping with joy.  You may have aspects of all of them within you.

And if you are truly a mouse, inside and out, then bravo for you!  For we mice know that the slightest honoring expression opens the heart and allows love to pour forth.  We know that the smallest, seemingly insignificant gesture, when expressed with truth, can open the heart and heal the spirit.  We know that utilizing these big, glorious ears, to truly listen and really hear, accept and respect, are the greatest gifts ever given.  We know that sitting quietly with one another in compassion, and ultimately sharing oneself can be so grand and magnificent an act, that it lights up the whole Universe in wonder.

We mice know that true greatness is within and the tiniest heart may beat as loudly and elegantly as that of the towering elephant.  We know and cherish our strength. It is the power of the small gesture that sings out its truth in love and trust.

Sabado Preto

The Blackest of Fridays 2013

I am allergic to shopping. I detest having to bring a snack, hiking from the car to the store’s entrance. It is nearing the end of my time with the handicap placard and I have been taking full advantage of possessing one. At times, it is not an issue of limping as I approach the entry way and other instances where I have to exaggerate the motion. Hate to think someone would be disgusted with me, using a permit when I didn’t need to. Have to remind myself, after the 30^th to avoid high traffic hours and not park in the Handicap designated spots. Either that, or I find a new friend who needs surgery and a six month temporary pass.

Chuck & Don’s (for those of you who don’t live in the Twin Cities, it is a chain of pet stores) tried to entice me to with a pound donation to a local shelter if I brought Ty into one of the stores between 7 and 9am. I didn’t budge. Arrived later in the day to find a small version of Tyrus sniffing his way along the treat aisle and a drooling Saint Bernard named Rosie meandering around the store. Made me wish I had peeled my way from under the mound of covers to come in earlier. I bought out the store, loaded the massive bags of dog and cat food, treats and Christmas stocking stuffers then made my way down the road to work. As I drove past the Mall, I was very happy to be heading in the opposite direction of the crazed masses of rabid shoppers. I do hope there are no reports of trampling on the news tonight.

Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving 2013

The Indigo mashed potatoes are a hit. They simply need a hint of garlic and they’d be a masterpiece. Thank goodness my neighbor is home and has a rolling pin to lend me. We have cat spats to keep under control and a dog that is nervous and underfoot when the felines start to rumble. The little year and a half old female is a spitfire and trying to take control of the new territory. It is an unexpected hassle, to make shitake mushroom wild rice, the tates, spinach salad, stuffing, blueberry and pumpkin pies (wrestling with the dry dough and had to start over again) and keep an eye on the brawling kitties.  

My niece came over to eat and visit, watch the first season of New Girl with Taelor and I. A friend stopped by with her two little Toto dogs and drank wine with me. Typically, we have a huge gathering, a crowd of friends who do not have family to spend Thanksgiving with. It is odd to be smashing a handful of potatoes versus a ten pound bag. I miss the chaos of a large crew at the table, various favorite dishes to pass and much sharing. It isn’t to say that I am not enjoying myself yet the shift in boisterous to cozy energy takes a bit of getting used to.

The girls got a jump start on handmade Christmas cards for me but they nixed fastening red hot chili peppers to the wreath frames. A project for another day perhaps. Keeping the child labor hours down to a minimum.

Merry Thanksgiving, folks. I am off to get another slim slice of blueberry pie. Would taste better with a serving of French vanilla ice cream but the neighbor is out.