There are signs that Spring is around the corner. The days are getting longer, the beagles are restless, the trees are budding, the tulips have broken through the earth, and the 's' word the weatherman is using has changed from Snow to Severe. And to be honest, I find myself saying "Hallelujah".
I am a winter person. I love the cold, the snow, the desire to stay inside and be cozy. While I like the flowering beauty of spring, I generally find it annoying. Trees budding and sending pollen throughout the air, forcing me to be a prisoner behind closed windows. Dogs digging in mud, having to be washed each time they come in the house. Allergies and mud- that's what I think of Spring bringing. Yet this year, I am ready.
It has been a rough winter. I have been in a deep depression for most of the winter. Well, deep for me. For other people, this might have been a mild depression. People have often described me as perky. While that isn't the adjective I would use, I know I fall closer to 'perky' than 'miserable' on the spectrum. This winter, I have been downright miserable. Even worse, I was in denial. I thought I was just down. I don't know why I kept denying it. There is no shame in admitting you struggle. At least, I don't think there should be. I know there is a lot of stigma with mental health issues, but I've always been honest about my emotions.
I struggle with depression. It is part of the Fibro. Most of the time, it isn't so much of a struggle. But sometimes, I get down. We all have down days. Most times, I can pull myself back up. I may get upset at something, or stressed, or just sad, but it is usually temporary. There are times it isn't temporary. This time it lasted for about two months.
I haven't been blogging much due to it. I have ideas written down that I want to write about, and may still. So a blog about cold Januarys may appear in March. I just haven't had the desire to write. Or knit. Or read. Or really do anything. Every day has been a struggle to get out of bed and function. When the alarm went off, I gave myself a pep talk to encourage my feet to swing off the bed and onto the floor. My overwhelming desire was to turn off the alarm and pull the blankets over my head. I kept trying to find motivation. Something I wanted to buy, saving my vacation time for Sydney's visit, a trip for myself. Nothing was working. I honestly would have been happy if I could have stayed in bed for two months, and if the world would have left me alone.
But the world did not leave me alone. I was moderately successful at moving in the world, although I'm sure my attitude was a little dark. The more I tried to care, the more I realized I didn't. I considered running away. Not in the 'abandon my life' sense, but just in the 'take a break from my life for a couple days'. Then I thought I really should talk to my Doctor, maybe I needed an anti-depressant for a little bit.
I can't pinpoint what exactly brought me down. I know my Grandmother's illness was part of it. I was afraid to answer the phone if the caller ID was my Mom's number. Every time I talked to my parents, I got an update on Grandma. I didn't have the family here to lean on, to hug. I did have some wonderful friends, those who live close and those who reached out through cyber space. It always felt like they were here, and my friends were a tremendous support for me. I shudder to think how much further I would have sunk if it had not been for my friends.
The winter was so long and cold, and then there was Christmas. We didn't have Christmas at our house, and mother nature interrupted Sydney & my parents' plans to come visit. Winter is always rough on the Fibro, this year was no different. There's a lot of stress at work. Together, it created the perfect storm of emotions for me.
I have been feeling much better in the past week. I know this is going to sound wrong, but going home for my Grandmother's funeral made me feel better. For one thing, she is at peace. The family is at peace. I had the closure with her funeral that I did not have with my other Grandma (we had no services for her, at her request). And I got to spend time with my family. Talking with my mom as we lingered over breakfast, watching sports with my dad. Being in the house I grew up in, seeing the familiar landscape covered with more snow than I've seen in years. Even being around the extended family of cousins was wonderful. I was able to spend a lot of time talking to my various cousins, and it was nice. Sure, it would have been great to have better circumstances, but it still felt good. Of course- the greatest elixir is Sydney and Drew- my two monkeys.
Now I can get back to blogging. I can work on my knitting. After all, there's less than 10 months until Christmas! I'm thinking of vacations. I'm even taking one just for myself this year- to visit a friend. I haven't done that in a long time. I feel like I'm starting to enjoy things again, and starting to care about most things. I feel like I'm emerging from this winter shroud, and things are so much better.
I didn't write this as a pity party. I really wanted to thank my friends who have helped me through this. You may not have realized how much you were helping me. No matter how we were communicating, you kept me afloat. I am very grateful, and so very blessed. I also want to apologize for not being myself these past couple of months. Thank you for sticking with me, for not prying to find out why I was a bit off. I think it is safe to say I'm back!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
My First Accident
When we were kids, our favorite winter activity was sledding. Mom and Dad had a small hill in their backyard, which was great when we were small. At four years old, that hill seemed huge. We could entertain ourselves for hours in the backyard. As we got older, we realized it wasn't much of a hill, more of a little grade.
Fortunately, my great-aunt and great-uncle lived next to us. Their house was at the bottom of the mountain, and they owned halfway to the top of the mountain. There was a large hill next to their house. I wish I could tell you how high it is, but I don't know. We weren't allowed to even sled on this hill until we were in school. Then Mom or Dad went with us for a while. Eventually, we were old enough to walk over to Aunt Hazel & Uncle Sid's by ourselves to sled on their hill. We usually walked to the halfway point, and then hopped on our sleds and took off.
You couldn't sled down Uncle Sid's hill after the first snowfall. You had to wait for a good snow pack, because the hill was covered in weeds, high grass, and the occasional renegade small maple tree. Usually we could start using that hill in January, but some winters we were able to start in December. It was a favorite of all the kids in the neighborhood: Matt and Evan who lived on one side of us, Drew and Joylane who lived on another side. I don't remember who else came sledding, but I know there were always at least half a dozen kids on the hill, and sometimes up to a dozen. One of us would decide it was time, and we'd alert everyone else in the neighborhood. It took a few minutes to pull on the snow pants, boots, coats, mittens, hats and scarves. Then we'd grab our sleds and waddle across the bridge to Uncle Sid's. We all had plastic sleds. Some of us had the round discs, and others had an actual sled. In all of our layers, we didn't have the energy to lift our sleds up high, so one end always ended up clanking on the road next to us.
The hill was next to Uncle Sid and Aunt Hazel's house, in front of their driveway. The road curves at their driveway and winds around the side of the hill. There was a ditch at the bottom of the sledding hill, and in winter, the snowbanks pile up on the side of the road. We had to clamor over the snow banks before beginning our ascent up the hill. Aunt Hazel & Uncle Sid's yard was framed by a small fence, and in the front corner of their yard, stood an apple tree, its large canopy extending over the driveway.
Even though we walked over to the hill together, we were never without adult supervision. Uncle Sid sat in the living room and watched us from his chair. We always knew he was there, yet he never intruded. He enjoyed watching us have fun.
The most vivid sledding memory I have took place when I was 8 or 9, maybe 10. We had had a great, snowy winter, and had been using the hill quite a bit. The snow on the hill was so deep, there was no memory of the grass and weeds and little trees that covered the hill a few months earlier. The snowbanks at the bottom of the sledding hill were easily six feet tall. By January, we had worn a sled trail on the hill. Which translates into ice. If you keep using the same trail over and over, it ices up and becomes more like a bobsled trail. Of course, the icier it gets, the faster it gets. It becomes very thrilling.
This afternoon, we had already been sledding for an hour or so. I had been down the hill several times already. I went back up the hill and climbed into my blue plastic Coleco sled. I stretched my legs out in front of me, someone gave me a push, and I was off! Mid-way down the hill, my sled and I went airborne. Usually the ditch at the bottom of the hill slowed us down, and if that didn't stop us, the snowbanks did. But snowbanks can't stop you when you fly over them. I cleared the ditch, cleared the snowbank, flew across Aunt Hazel & Uncle Sid's driveway, and crashed into their apple tree. When I went airborne, the laughter and cheers of my friends turned to screams. I still remember my sister's piercing shriek.
Inside the house, Uncle Sid saw me take flight. He told Aunt Hazel 'call Kathy!', and as he said this, he was grabbing his coat and running out the door. He got to the tree about the same time I did. I hit the trunk of the tree about three or four feet off the ground. The tree did what nothing else had done- it stopped me. And then I crashed to the ground. Instantly, there were people all around. The other children had used their own sleds to get down the hill (careful not to use the trail which had just catapulted me into the tree), my mother and everyone else's mother came running from all directions, Aunt Hazel and Uncle Sid helped me off the ground. The kids were all chattering excitedly, recounting every second of my flight. The adults kept asking if I was ok: asking me questions, looking in my eyes. "Does your head hurt?" "No, my butt hurts. I landed hard." "Is anything broken?" "My sled!"
That's right. A plastic sled is no match for an apple tree. I totalled my sled! We usually got a new sled at the beginning of each winter. By mid-January; the stores have sold out for the year. Once the adults were certain that I hadn't broken anything other than my sled, and would probably just be bruised, they declared an end to sledding for the day. The other children didn't grumble, they willingly went home with their moms. I honestly think everyone had the daylights scared out of them.
The next weekend, we were back sledding, but we were more careful. We tried using different spots in the hill to avoid the ice. I had to share my sister's sled for the rest of the season. Eventually the temperatures started warming up, and the snow progressed to mud. The sleds got put away for another year. And the apple tree still had the dent from my sled!
Fortunately, my great-aunt and great-uncle lived next to us. Their house was at the bottom of the mountain, and they owned halfway to the top of the mountain. There was a large hill next to their house. I wish I could tell you how high it is, but I don't know. We weren't allowed to even sled on this hill until we were in school. Then Mom or Dad went with us for a while. Eventually, we were old enough to walk over to Aunt Hazel & Uncle Sid's by ourselves to sled on their hill. We usually walked to the halfway point, and then hopped on our sleds and took off.
You couldn't sled down Uncle Sid's hill after the first snowfall. You had to wait for a good snow pack, because the hill was covered in weeds, high grass, and the occasional renegade small maple tree. Usually we could start using that hill in January, but some winters we were able to start in December. It was a favorite of all the kids in the neighborhood: Matt and Evan who lived on one side of us, Drew and Joylane who lived on another side. I don't remember who else came sledding, but I know there were always at least half a dozen kids on the hill, and sometimes up to a dozen. One of us would decide it was time, and we'd alert everyone else in the neighborhood. It took a few minutes to pull on the snow pants, boots, coats, mittens, hats and scarves. Then we'd grab our sleds and waddle across the bridge to Uncle Sid's. We all had plastic sleds. Some of us had the round discs, and others had an actual sled. In all of our layers, we didn't have the energy to lift our sleds up high, so one end always ended up clanking on the road next to us.
The hill was next to Uncle Sid and Aunt Hazel's house, in front of their driveway. The road curves at their driveway and winds around the side of the hill. There was a ditch at the bottom of the sledding hill, and in winter, the snowbanks pile up on the side of the road. We had to clamor over the snow banks before beginning our ascent up the hill. Aunt Hazel & Uncle Sid's yard was framed by a small fence, and in the front corner of their yard, stood an apple tree, its large canopy extending over the driveway.
Even though we walked over to the hill together, we were never without adult supervision. Uncle Sid sat in the living room and watched us from his chair. We always knew he was there, yet he never intruded. He enjoyed watching us have fun.
The most vivid sledding memory I have took place when I was 8 or 9, maybe 10. We had had a great, snowy winter, and had been using the hill quite a bit. The snow on the hill was so deep, there was no memory of the grass and weeds and little trees that covered the hill a few months earlier. The snowbanks at the bottom of the sledding hill were easily six feet tall. By January, we had worn a sled trail on the hill. Which translates into ice. If you keep using the same trail over and over, it ices up and becomes more like a bobsled trail. Of course, the icier it gets, the faster it gets. It becomes very thrilling.
This afternoon, we had already been sledding for an hour or so. I had been down the hill several times already. I went back up the hill and climbed into my blue plastic Coleco sled. I stretched my legs out in front of me, someone gave me a push, and I was off! Mid-way down the hill, my sled and I went airborne. Usually the ditch at the bottom of the hill slowed us down, and if that didn't stop us, the snowbanks did. But snowbanks can't stop you when you fly over them. I cleared the ditch, cleared the snowbank, flew across Aunt Hazel & Uncle Sid's driveway, and crashed into their apple tree. When I went airborne, the laughter and cheers of my friends turned to screams. I still remember my sister's piercing shriek.
Inside the house, Uncle Sid saw me take flight. He told Aunt Hazel 'call Kathy!', and as he said this, he was grabbing his coat and running out the door. He got to the tree about the same time I did. I hit the trunk of the tree about three or four feet off the ground. The tree did what nothing else had done- it stopped me. And then I crashed to the ground. Instantly, there were people all around. The other children had used their own sleds to get down the hill (careful not to use the trail which had just catapulted me into the tree), my mother and everyone else's mother came running from all directions, Aunt Hazel and Uncle Sid helped me off the ground. The kids were all chattering excitedly, recounting every second of my flight. The adults kept asking if I was ok: asking me questions, looking in my eyes. "Does your head hurt?" "No, my butt hurts. I landed hard." "Is anything broken?" "My sled!"
That's right. A plastic sled is no match for an apple tree. I totalled my sled! We usually got a new sled at the beginning of each winter. By mid-January; the stores have sold out for the year. Once the adults were certain that I hadn't broken anything other than my sled, and would probably just be bruised, they declared an end to sledding for the day. The other children didn't grumble, they willingly went home with their moms. I honestly think everyone had the daylights scared out of them.
The next weekend, we were back sledding, but we were more careful. We tried using different spots in the hill to avoid the ice. I had to share my sister's sled for the rest of the season. Eventually the temperatures started warming up, and the snow progressed to mud. The sleds got put away for another year. And the apple tree still had the dent from my sled!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Weekend of Renewal
My friends and readers of any of my blogs know my life has been almost non-stop drama since Thanksgiving. The past two weeks, I have really been struggling; both emotionally and physically. My fibro pain feels worse than normal, no doubt a response to the stress. I will admit, I've had a lousy attitude lately. I have really been feeling that I need a vacation. I don't have one planned, in fact, all vacation plans for the year are kind of hold because my Grandmother is so bad. I haven't wanted to plan a vacation and book everything, and then have to make an emergency trip to NY for her funeral.
I decided on Friday that I was going to spend this weekend relaxing. I was going to put aside the to-do list, and focus on things that make me feel better. I know when my fibro is acting up, I need to try to get more sleep. So I'm going to try to go to bed earlier. I keep forgetting if I'm watching something on TV downstairs, that I could just as easily watch it from my bedroom. I thought I should probably start using my glider, maybe a little exercise would give me more energy. I say I thought about doing it, because the glider remains folded up against the wall of my bedroom.
Yesterday was kind of a day of pampering. I had a hair appointment in the morning. What is it about sitting in a salon getting our hair cut which makes us pour out our souls? I am convinced hair dressers make wonderful therapists. Mine is no different. At the end of my appointment, he gave me a great big hug. I will have to make him some cookies before my next visit. After my hair appointment, Erich and I stopped at a little specialty market we enjoy. I bought some triple chocolate cake. I know- not the healthiest option. I figured it's ok, I haven't had much of an appetite lately. I've been doing a good job of trying to eat well, I'm just not eating much. So a few bites of triple chocolate cake isn't going to send me into calorie overload. I also bought a dozen roses for myself. Not my usual pink roses. I chose white roses that have a dark pink edge to them. They almost look like a peppermint candy- they were different. Then I had a massage, which helped relieve some of the pain. I came home and watched some college hockey (Notre Dame vs Ohio State, but ND lost). Then I fell asleep on the couch with the dogs and ended up taking a two hour nap.
Last night I spent time working on my ancestry. I actually made a break-through, which was wonderful. It seems each branch of the family has several men who died very young. Their widows remarried (as was custom in the 1800's or early 1900's), and I've been unable to trace back any further. I have this problem on the Primeau side, I only know back to my great-grandpa Primeau. On my mother's side, I knew my great-great Grandpa Yerke had died a young man, his wife remarried, and the four children were 'farmed out' to friends and family. But I didn't know anything more about her. I keep asking questions, and digging, and finally, last night, I found out when she was born and died, her second husband's last name (Mom and Aunt Arlene had told me it was either Jacobson or Jacobs), AND her parents' names. I felt like doing cartwheels! I have been trying to get through that road block for years. It was an incredible feeling.
Today I slept until about 11am. Not really that uncommon for me on the weekends. I tend to let my body sleep as long as it needs. Then I read the newspaper, which takes about an hour. I played around for a little bit, and then got ready and went shopping. I asked Erich if he wanted to come, and he wanted to know what I was going shopping for. I told him 'retail therapy' and he said 'no thanks'. Just as well. I put in my ALABAMA Songs of Inspiration CD, which is mostly hymns. ALABAMA is my favorite band, and I find this CD very soothing and comforting. Erich and I don't agree on issues of religion, so I could not have done that if he were in the car.
First I went to Elder Beerman. You can get some great sales at that store. I also love our Elder Beerman because even though it's in a mall that was probably built in the 1970s or so, the doors to Elder Beerman are huge. I think each door is 10' tall. They have this art-deco look to them, and I always feel like I'm walking into the 1920s. I walked through the women's department, but didn't really find anything. The winter stuff had been pretty well picked over, and the spring stuff wasn't yet on sale. I found this beautiful purple spring jacket, and will keep watching the ad to see when it goes on sale. Not that I need another jacket, but I promised myself I'd donate some of my older ones to make room for this one. I wandered into the housewares section, and hit the jackpot! They had place mats and table linens on clearance. I have a weakness for pretty table linens. I almost bought some nice fall color ones to replace the cheap ones I am currently using on the dining room table. I decided not to get those, because I'm pretty sure I have some in my hope chest. However, I found this really neat place mats for 4th of July. They are red woven place mats with white and blue fire works embroidered onto them. Very classy and festive. Each was regularly $10, and with all the discounts and my bonus coupon, I paid $2.38 each. What a deal! Then I found cute Easter place mats. The ones I really liked had polka dots and ruffles, but the pinks, greens, blues, and purples didn't go with my orange and red and yellow dining room. I looked some more, and found oval place mats, which look like an egg, but had a chick or a bunny on them. They were more muted colors, it was the shape that spoke Easter. I wasn't sure they were on sale, but they were 60% off! I was so happy!
My next stop was Kohls. I really didn't have anything specific in mind, but I had a coupon for 15% off all sale prices. My one thought was I didn't want to buy things for the kids. That doesn't make me a bad aunt. It just shows I have some willpower! I wandered around the store, and at first found only a long sleeve top and a sweater. As I wandered I remembered I wanted to look for something to wear for the funeral. Some people might see that as morbid. I see it as being prepared. I am able to handle things much better if I am prepared. While I have a lot of clothes, I don't have a lot of black. I have black pants and skirts, but not many tops. So I went through the 'dressy' clothes section. I found a couple of cardigans and a jacket, and then did something I rarely do in the store- I went into the fitting room. I tried on the various tops, and decided on the jacket. It is black, with a jacquard print, so it's black on black. It is dressy and versatile, if it's really cold I can put a turtleneck under it, if it's a little warmer I can go with a lacey short sleeve top or a dressy tank. It will look nice with pants or a skirt (if the funeral is in winter, I'm likely to wear pants because Grandma's church is on the top of a mountain and it's cold there in July!). The best thing is this is a piece I will wear for other things- such as conferences for work. It even looked great with my jeans, so I can wear it if I go out or something. The one sweater was this little fashionable thing that I knew I wouldn't ever wear again. I can't explain how much better I feel knowing I have this minor detail taken care of. I know now I can handle what will come.
I circled through the store again, and hit the clearance racks. I found two nice winter sweaters on clearance for $10 each. They were $50 sweaters, so that was a deal I couldn't pass up. All total, I bought myself two tops, three sweaters, and the jacket. I saved $157, which was almost twice what I spent. I love those trips!
The final stop on my retail therapy tour was Target. I bought some mundane stuff like shampoo, allergy medication, and pillows for my bed. I went through the media section, and book titles were jumping out at me. I remembered my friend Patricia mentioning these titles, so I bought them. I certainly didn't need any more books, I have plenty that I own and haven't read. I also bought myself two CD's- Brooks & Dunn's greatest hits and the 'Greatest Southern Country songs'. This one contained songs I heard a lot as a kid listening to country music. It was a comfort thing.
When I came out of Target, I was a little hungry, and decided I didn't feel like cooking. So I went to Applebees, ordered takeout, and brought dinner home for Erich and I. I didn't really get anything done around the house this weekend, but I can tell you I am in such a better place than I was on Friday. I don't feel like the Universe is using me as its' personal punching bag. I know things are stressful, but I feel like I can manage.
I decided on Friday that I was going to spend this weekend relaxing. I was going to put aside the to-do list, and focus on things that make me feel better. I know when my fibro is acting up, I need to try to get more sleep. So I'm going to try to go to bed earlier. I keep forgetting if I'm watching something on TV downstairs, that I could just as easily watch it from my bedroom. I thought I should probably start using my glider, maybe a little exercise would give me more energy. I say I thought about doing it, because the glider remains folded up against the wall of my bedroom.
Yesterday was kind of a day of pampering. I had a hair appointment in the morning. What is it about sitting in a salon getting our hair cut which makes us pour out our souls? I am convinced hair dressers make wonderful therapists. Mine is no different. At the end of my appointment, he gave me a great big hug. I will have to make him some cookies before my next visit. After my hair appointment, Erich and I stopped at a little specialty market we enjoy. I bought some triple chocolate cake. I know- not the healthiest option. I figured it's ok, I haven't had much of an appetite lately. I've been doing a good job of trying to eat well, I'm just not eating much. So a few bites of triple chocolate cake isn't going to send me into calorie overload. I also bought a dozen roses for myself. Not my usual pink roses. I chose white roses that have a dark pink edge to them. They almost look like a peppermint candy- they were different. Then I had a massage, which helped relieve some of the pain. I came home and watched some college hockey (Notre Dame vs Ohio State, but ND lost). Then I fell asleep on the couch with the dogs and ended up taking a two hour nap.
Last night I spent time working on my ancestry. I actually made a break-through, which was wonderful. It seems each branch of the family has several men who died very young. Their widows remarried (as was custom in the 1800's or early 1900's), and I've been unable to trace back any further. I have this problem on the Primeau side, I only know back to my great-grandpa Primeau. On my mother's side, I knew my great-great Grandpa Yerke had died a young man, his wife remarried, and the four children were 'farmed out' to friends and family. But I didn't know anything more about her. I keep asking questions, and digging, and finally, last night, I found out when she was born and died, her second husband's last name (Mom and Aunt Arlene had told me it was either Jacobson or Jacobs), AND her parents' names. I felt like doing cartwheels! I have been trying to get through that road block for years. It was an incredible feeling.
Today I slept until about 11am. Not really that uncommon for me on the weekends. I tend to let my body sleep as long as it needs. Then I read the newspaper, which takes about an hour. I played around for a little bit, and then got ready and went shopping. I asked Erich if he wanted to come, and he wanted to know what I was going shopping for. I told him 'retail therapy' and he said 'no thanks'. Just as well. I put in my ALABAMA Songs of Inspiration CD, which is mostly hymns. ALABAMA is my favorite band, and I find this CD very soothing and comforting. Erich and I don't agree on issues of religion, so I could not have done that if he were in the car.
First I went to Elder Beerman. You can get some great sales at that store. I also love our Elder Beerman because even though it's in a mall that was probably built in the 1970s or so, the doors to Elder Beerman are huge. I think each door is 10' tall. They have this art-deco look to them, and I always feel like I'm walking into the 1920s. I walked through the women's department, but didn't really find anything. The winter stuff had been pretty well picked over, and the spring stuff wasn't yet on sale. I found this beautiful purple spring jacket, and will keep watching the ad to see when it goes on sale. Not that I need another jacket, but I promised myself I'd donate some of my older ones to make room for this one. I wandered into the housewares section, and hit the jackpot! They had place mats and table linens on clearance. I have a weakness for pretty table linens. I almost bought some nice fall color ones to replace the cheap ones I am currently using on the dining room table. I decided not to get those, because I'm pretty sure I have some in my hope chest. However, I found this really neat place mats for 4th of July. They are red woven place mats with white and blue fire works embroidered onto them. Very classy and festive. Each was regularly $10, and with all the discounts and my bonus coupon, I paid $2.38 each. What a deal! Then I found cute Easter place mats. The ones I really liked had polka dots and ruffles, but the pinks, greens, blues, and purples didn't go with my orange and red and yellow dining room. I looked some more, and found oval place mats, which look like an egg, but had a chick or a bunny on them. They were more muted colors, it was the shape that spoke Easter. I wasn't sure they were on sale, but they were 60% off! I was so happy!
My next stop was Kohls. I really didn't have anything specific in mind, but I had a coupon for 15% off all sale prices. My one thought was I didn't want to buy things for the kids. That doesn't make me a bad aunt. It just shows I have some willpower! I wandered around the store, and at first found only a long sleeve top and a sweater. As I wandered I remembered I wanted to look for something to wear for the funeral. Some people might see that as morbid. I see it as being prepared. I am able to handle things much better if I am prepared. While I have a lot of clothes, I don't have a lot of black. I have black pants and skirts, but not many tops. So I went through the 'dressy' clothes section. I found a couple of cardigans and a jacket, and then did something I rarely do in the store- I went into the fitting room. I tried on the various tops, and decided on the jacket. It is black, with a jacquard print, so it's black on black. It is dressy and versatile, if it's really cold I can put a turtleneck under it, if it's a little warmer I can go with a lacey short sleeve top or a dressy tank. It will look nice with pants or a skirt (if the funeral is in winter, I'm likely to wear pants because Grandma's church is on the top of a mountain and it's cold there in July!). The best thing is this is a piece I will wear for other things- such as conferences for work. It even looked great with my jeans, so I can wear it if I go out or something. The one sweater was this little fashionable thing that I knew I wouldn't ever wear again. I can't explain how much better I feel knowing I have this minor detail taken care of. I know now I can handle what will come.
I circled through the store again, and hit the clearance racks. I found two nice winter sweaters on clearance for $10 each. They were $50 sweaters, so that was a deal I couldn't pass up. All total, I bought myself two tops, three sweaters, and the jacket. I saved $157, which was almost twice what I spent. I love those trips!
The final stop on my retail therapy tour was Target. I bought some mundane stuff like shampoo, allergy medication, and pillows for my bed. I went through the media section, and book titles were jumping out at me. I remembered my friend Patricia mentioning these titles, so I bought them. I certainly didn't need any more books, I have plenty that I own and haven't read. I also bought myself two CD's- Brooks & Dunn's greatest hits and the 'Greatest Southern Country songs'. This one contained songs I heard a lot as a kid listening to country music. It was a comfort thing.
When I came out of Target, I was a little hungry, and decided I didn't feel like cooking. So I went to Applebees, ordered takeout, and brought dinner home for Erich and I. I didn't really get anything done around the house this weekend, but I can tell you I am in such a better place than I was on Friday. I don't feel like the Universe is using me as its' personal punching bag. I know things are stressful, but I feel like I can manage.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Strong Women
My family is full of strong-willed women. They have often been called other things; words that are not flattering. My mother is a very independent person. Dad worked a lot, so Mom had to do things for herself. While many women do not tackle any outside work, my mom will mow the lawn, paint the house, and shovel snow. Mom and Dad are equal partners, but there is no doubt that Mom is the stronger personality. She has never been afraid to tell you what she thinks. Some people find her hard to get along with. I remember in high school, the boys who didn't know me really well were terrified of my Dad. After all, he was 6'3", and at the time he was driving a truck that was almost a semi. As Dad says, he had arms like 'oak trees'. He had dark hair, and never said a lot. He really was an imposing figure. I was talking to a couple of guys one day, and the one commented about my dad being scary. My friend Jason, whom I'd been friends with since pre-school, said 'it's not her dad you should be afraid of. It's her Mom'.
Her mother, Grandma Wager, was the same. She was independent, stubborn, opinionated. Grandma had a quick temper, and you never knew when you would find yourself in her path; burned by her tongue. Mom is a little more mellow than Grandma was, and Mom has mellowed as she's gotten older.
From the stories I have heard, my great-grandmother, Hattie, shared this temperament. Old-timers in town would tell that my Grandma was just like her mother, Hattie. Don't get me wrong, my Grandmother could be the sweetest, biggest hearted person in the world. She was not a shrew, or an evil witch. She just had a temper. The same with Mom. If you've made them mad, you will know it.
My sister inherited this as well. I have too, to an extent. Of the four generations, I am the meekest. Yet we are all very strong personalities. I imagine Sydney will share this too. We are independent women raised by independent women. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
My father's best friend once commented on my sister's temper. He called her 'Little Ruthie'. Ruth was my Grandma's name. People who knew the family remarked that Laura was like Ruth, who was so much like Hattie. People who didn't know the family referred to my sister as a spitfire. Dad agreed with his friend, but warned him that I was truly the one to watch out for. Lionel couldn't believe this. I was so quiet and calm, so meek. I was practically afraid of my own shadow. Dad reminded him that it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.
My father was right, all those years ago. My sister, like my mom and Grandma, will blow up very quickly and it will be over. You may feel like you've been stung by a thousand bees, but it will go away quickly. I am the opposite. Little things will come and go and upset me temporarily, but for the most part, I let things roll off me. When something gets me very mad, that's when you have to watch out. It happens so rarely that only those closest to me have seen it happen more than once. Erich can probably count on one hand the number of times he's seen it. The people closest to me (my parents, sister, etc) all kind of step back when I get that mad. I become so angry that there are no words for it, and so upset. And I can guarantee, someone is going to get chewed out like they've never been chewed out. I can also be vicious. I make the other women in my family look like pussy cats.
If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is poor customer service. I have always worked in some form of customer service, and I pride myself on doing the best I can, every single day. If I make a mistake (and there are times it does happen), I apologize to the customer and try to make it right for them. I also try to go that extra step, to reassure them and let them know I appreciate their business. If I messed up an order, I will send a few extra items at no charge. I believe if you want to keep customers, you have to give them 120% every day.
In the past couple of weeks, I have had two companies give very poor customer service. The first is a photo printing company. I sent several months' worth of pictures to them, and when the prints arrived, 2/3 of the order was very poor quality. The photos were grainy, out of focus, and had shadows around the subjects. The original photos did not look like this. When I called customer service, they refunded my money, and then told me to place the order again. The longer I thought about that, I thought 'that's not right'. I'm still paying for their mistake! The company's customer satisfaction guarantee said they would reprint the pictures at no cost, and give me 10% off another order. I argued and argued with the company, and finally today, they have given me a total refund.
The other company I've had problems with is a major delivery company. You know, that Logistics one. Well, it's not so much the company as it is one of their agents. On December 27, I took two boxes to my local shipping center. One was going to Mom and Dad, and the other to Syd. It was the Christmas presents they could not get to Ohio to receive. I paid for the shipping, and came home. Two days later, I went online to track the boxes. My parents' had arrived that day, the box to Sydney was on its way to some guy in Washington state. Even though I told the shipping agent the correct name, and he verified the address with me, he entered the wrong address on the label and sent it to someone I don't know in Washington, who has the same last name as my sister. I called the shipping center, and he said he would stop the delivery. The box was in Illinois at that time (two states away), and he would have it returned to him. He thought it would be back to him on January 3. January 3 came and went, I tracked it again, and it was in Washington. I called him again. He said they couldn't get it off the truck so it had to go to Washington. I was not aware that the big trucks make no stops between Illinois and Washington. I guess people who live in Iowa or Kansas or Montana don't get packages. Then the box had to be returned to Ohio from Washington. He told me to come by and he would refund my card for the entire cost of the box, and then when it arrived in Ohio, he would pay to ship it overnight delivery to NY. I had told him originally when I discovered his error that he needed to expedite the delivery. "Oh no problem, I know you're a very good customer". We are now on day 15 of this saga. I went to the shipping center last Thursday to get my refund, and the sign on the door says closed due to a family emergency. I called them on Friday, no answer. I called yesterday and today, and no answer. Last night, I called the shipping company directly. The first woman I talked to told me if they couldn't deliver the package to the shipping company, it would either be held at the warehouse, or it would be sent back to the receiver. I explained to her that the receiver was not someone I knew, that was the wrong person, and she said there was nothing else she could do. I have to admit, I lost my cool at that point. I demanded a supervisor, and when the supervisor got on the phone, I went through the whole story again. She assured me that since it was a return to sender package, they would not try to deliver it to the receiver.
It is sort of a joke now, between my mom and sister. "Where's the box?" I feel lousy- my poor Sydney hasn't gotten her Christmas presents. I didn't forget her, but there's no way to explain to her what has happened. I can't file a lost claim on the package because there has been activity on it in the past 24 hours. The shipping company doesn't consider me the shipper, because the return address is the shipping center. There are no words to describe how angry I am. My sister said it best today "I wouldn't want to be that guy when you finally do get hold of him" . It made me think of Dad's conversation with Lionel, that it wasn't Laura you should worry about upsetting. It must be true what they say "it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for" (don't you think of that each time someone goes on a psychotic rampage and the neighbors all say 'he/she was such a quiet person'?) Not that I'm going to go on a rampage. He will get a piece of my mind, and he will get an education in customer service. And, he'll have the worst thing of all- one less customer.
Her mother, Grandma Wager, was the same. She was independent, stubborn, opinionated. Grandma had a quick temper, and you never knew when you would find yourself in her path; burned by her tongue. Mom is a little more mellow than Grandma was, and Mom has mellowed as she's gotten older.
From the stories I have heard, my great-grandmother, Hattie, shared this temperament. Old-timers in town would tell that my Grandma was just like her mother, Hattie. Don't get me wrong, my Grandmother could be the sweetest, biggest hearted person in the world. She was not a shrew, or an evil witch. She just had a temper. The same with Mom. If you've made them mad, you will know it.
My sister inherited this as well. I have too, to an extent. Of the four generations, I am the meekest. Yet we are all very strong personalities. I imagine Sydney will share this too. We are independent women raised by independent women. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
My father's best friend once commented on my sister's temper. He called her 'Little Ruthie'. Ruth was my Grandma's name. People who knew the family remarked that Laura was like Ruth, who was so much like Hattie. People who didn't know the family referred to my sister as a spitfire. Dad agreed with his friend, but warned him that I was truly the one to watch out for. Lionel couldn't believe this. I was so quiet and calm, so meek. I was practically afraid of my own shadow. Dad reminded him that it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.
My father was right, all those years ago. My sister, like my mom and Grandma, will blow up very quickly and it will be over. You may feel like you've been stung by a thousand bees, but it will go away quickly. I am the opposite. Little things will come and go and upset me temporarily, but for the most part, I let things roll off me. When something gets me very mad, that's when you have to watch out. It happens so rarely that only those closest to me have seen it happen more than once. Erich can probably count on one hand the number of times he's seen it. The people closest to me (my parents, sister, etc) all kind of step back when I get that mad. I become so angry that there are no words for it, and so upset. And I can guarantee, someone is going to get chewed out like they've never been chewed out. I can also be vicious. I make the other women in my family look like pussy cats.
If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is poor customer service. I have always worked in some form of customer service, and I pride myself on doing the best I can, every single day. If I make a mistake (and there are times it does happen), I apologize to the customer and try to make it right for them. I also try to go that extra step, to reassure them and let them know I appreciate their business. If I messed up an order, I will send a few extra items at no charge. I believe if you want to keep customers, you have to give them 120% every day.
In the past couple of weeks, I have had two companies give very poor customer service. The first is a photo printing company. I sent several months' worth of pictures to them, and when the prints arrived, 2/3 of the order was very poor quality. The photos were grainy, out of focus, and had shadows around the subjects. The original photos did not look like this. When I called customer service, they refunded my money, and then told me to place the order again. The longer I thought about that, I thought 'that's not right'. I'm still paying for their mistake! The company's customer satisfaction guarantee said they would reprint the pictures at no cost, and give me 10% off another order. I argued and argued with the company, and finally today, they have given me a total refund.
The other company I've had problems with is a major delivery company. You know, that Logistics one. Well, it's not so much the company as it is one of their agents. On December 27, I took two boxes to my local shipping center. One was going to Mom and Dad, and the other to Syd. It was the Christmas presents they could not get to Ohio to receive. I paid for the shipping, and came home. Two days later, I went online to track the boxes. My parents' had arrived that day, the box to Sydney was on its way to some guy in Washington state. Even though I told the shipping agent the correct name, and he verified the address with me, he entered the wrong address on the label and sent it to someone I don't know in Washington, who has the same last name as my sister. I called the shipping center, and he said he would stop the delivery. The box was in Illinois at that time (two states away), and he would have it returned to him. He thought it would be back to him on January 3. January 3 came and went, I tracked it again, and it was in Washington. I called him again. He said they couldn't get it off the truck so it had to go to Washington. I was not aware that the big trucks make no stops between Illinois and Washington. I guess people who live in Iowa or Kansas or Montana don't get packages. Then the box had to be returned to Ohio from Washington. He told me to come by and he would refund my card for the entire cost of the box, and then when it arrived in Ohio, he would pay to ship it overnight delivery to NY. I had told him originally when I discovered his error that he needed to expedite the delivery. "Oh no problem, I know you're a very good customer". We are now on day 15 of this saga. I went to the shipping center last Thursday to get my refund, and the sign on the door says closed due to a family emergency. I called them on Friday, no answer. I called yesterday and today, and no answer. Last night, I called the shipping company directly. The first woman I talked to told me if they couldn't deliver the package to the shipping company, it would either be held at the warehouse, or it would be sent back to the receiver. I explained to her that the receiver was not someone I knew, that was the wrong person, and she said there was nothing else she could do. I have to admit, I lost my cool at that point. I demanded a supervisor, and when the supervisor got on the phone, I went through the whole story again. She assured me that since it was a return to sender package, they would not try to deliver it to the receiver.
It is sort of a joke now, between my mom and sister. "Where's the box?" I feel lousy- my poor Sydney hasn't gotten her Christmas presents. I didn't forget her, but there's no way to explain to her what has happened. I can't file a lost claim on the package because there has been activity on it in the past 24 hours. The shipping company doesn't consider me the shipper, because the return address is the shipping center. There are no words to describe how angry I am. My sister said it best today "I wouldn't want to be that guy when you finally do get hold of him" . It made me think of Dad's conversation with Lionel, that it wasn't Laura you should worry about upsetting. It must be true what they say "it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for" (don't you think of that each time someone goes on a psychotic rampage and the neighbors all say 'he/she was such a quiet person'?) Not that I'm going to go on a rampage. He will get a piece of my mind, and he will get an education in customer service. And, he'll have the worst thing of all- one less customer.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Organization
I don't know what it is about January that puts me in an organizing mood. Maybe after the chaos of the holidays, I want order back in my life. Maybe because it's too cold and miserable to be outside, I find projects inside to keep me busy. I usually don't have any knitting projects in January (I try to give myself a little bit of a break after the holiday frenzy).
Every year, once I get the Christmas decorations put away and the house back to it's non-Christmas state, I start thinking of things I need to do in the house. This year, I have quite a list, and have already accomplished so much in just two weekends. Last weekend, I organized my health insurance paperwork for 2010, cleaned out both freezers, and organized our tea bags. I know, that one sounds a little odd. I was tired of the boxes of tea falling off the shelf. I found a neat basket I wasn't using, and it holds the tea in a very nice manner. I still want one of those nifty wooden tea chests, but at least now we aren't getting attacked by flying tea bags!
This weekend I tackled photos. I love pictures. I have photos in frames throughout the house, and I have about 15 photo albums of various sizes. Most of them are full, or soon to be full. I am already on my sixth photo album of just Sydney, and she's a little over four years old. I had been keeping the photo albums in the small bookcase that serves as our TV stand, but it was full, with no room for more albums. So I moved the photo albums to the six foot tall bookcase next to the TV (and the albums now take up three shelves of the unit). I moved all of the kid friendly videos and DVDs into the TV stand. This way they are easily accessible for Sydney. I went through DVDs and videos, getting rid of duplicates, ones I didn't like or saw no reason to keep. I was able to make a huge dent in the collection. The shelves are now neat and orderly.
I also decided it was time to update my photo frames. I still had my sister's Senior picture from high school in a 5x7 frame, as well as pictures from our college graduations. My sister will have her 15th high school reunion this spring, so I think it was time to change everything. I threw out the frames that were falling apart, or that were really cheap and could not be opened easily (the kind with just staples holding the back on, and you have to bend the staples up to open the frame). I changed most of the pictures, and the few I didn't change were moved to a new location in the house. In some ways, it seems like a different house. Changing your pictures around makes a big difference in your decor!
I had also planned to get all my photos into albums. I placed a big order with Snapfish last weekend, and the photos arrived on Friday. Unfortunately, most of the order was very poor quality and I've had to reorder them, so I wasn't able to get all the photos into albums. Maybe next weekend.
I still have so many more projects to do! With any luck, I'll get them all done this winter. Once it starts getting nicer, I want to either be outside, or I go places after work. When it's cold and dark, I just want to be inside. I like getting so much done, and it leaves me with a big sense of accomplishment for the weekend. That's always a bonus!
Every year, once I get the Christmas decorations put away and the house back to it's non-Christmas state, I start thinking of things I need to do in the house. This year, I have quite a list, and have already accomplished so much in just two weekends. Last weekend, I organized my health insurance paperwork for 2010, cleaned out both freezers, and organized our tea bags. I know, that one sounds a little odd. I was tired of the boxes of tea falling off the shelf. I found a neat basket I wasn't using, and it holds the tea in a very nice manner. I still want one of those nifty wooden tea chests, but at least now we aren't getting attacked by flying tea bags!
This weekend I tackled photos. I love pictures. I have photos in frames throughout the house, and I have about 15 photo albums of various sizes. Most of them are full, or soon to be full. I am already on my sixth photo album of just Sydney, and she's a little over four years old. I had been keeping the photo albums in the small bookcase that serves as our TV stand, but it was full, with no room for more albums. So I moved the photo albums to the six foot tall bookcase next to the TV (and the albums now take up three shelves of the unit). I moved all of the kid friendly videos and DVDs into the TV stand. This way they are easily accessible for Sydney. I went through DVDs and videos, getting rid of duplicates, ones I didn't like or saw no reason to keep. I was able to make a huge dent in the collection. The shelves are now neat and orderly.
I also decided it was time to update my photo frames. I still had my sister's Senior picture from high school in a 5x7 frame, as well as pictures from our college graduations. My sister will have her 15th high school reunion this spring, so I think it was time to change everything. I threw out the frames that were falling apart, or that were really cheap and could not be opened easily (the kind with just staples holding the back on, and you have to bend the staples up to open the frame). I changed most of the pictures, and the few I didn't change were moved to a new location in the house. In some ways, it seems like a different house. Changing your pictures around makes a big difference in your decor!
I had also planned to get all my photos into albums. I placed a big order with Snapfish last weekend, and the photos arrived on Friday. Unfortunately, most of the order was very poor quality and I've had to reorder them, so I wasn't able to get all the photos into albums. Maybe next weekend.
I still have so many more projects to do! With any luck, I'll get them all done this winter. Once it starts getting nicer, I want to either be outside, or I go places after work. When it's cold and dark, I just want to be inside. I like getting so much done, and it leaves me with a big sense of accomplishment for the weekend. That's always a bonus!
Friday, January 7, 2011
The Long and Short of It
One of my friends, and fellow bloggers, told me today that each blog post should only be about 300-500 words long. EEP! I have regularly broken this rule. Is it a rule or just a guideline? Maybe the thought is that people lose interest at word number 501. Maybe it seems too self-absorbed to write 600 words? I don't know.
I have learned that business emails should be kept brief. You want everything above the fold, meaning that the reader shouldn't have to scroll down. Your email should not exceed the reading pane. It just never occurred to me that my blog should follow the same rules. Sometimes my blogs can be short, but it seems, most of the time they are long. If you know me in person, you know that's just me. I talk a lot. It does take me a while to tell a story, because I like to set the scene for you. I want you to feel like you were there; to understand why this event or tidbit was important enough for me to share with you.
My blog posts are a reflection of me. If it is long, it's because I felt I could not say what I had to say in fewer words and make the same point or impression. I hope the length doesn't offend anyone. Maybe if my entries were shorter, I would have a large following. I've never thought much of popularity, and quite truthfully, am flattered that anyone even reads what I write. I apologize if they are wordy, and I thank you for reading them.
And a PS to my friend who told me about the 300-500 words: no, I'm not offended! I had never thought of it, but now that I have, I don't think I will let it limit me. I'm glad there's no blog police!
I have learned that business emails should be kept brief. You want everything above the fold, meaning that the reader shouldn't have to scroll down. Your email should not exceed the reading pane. It just never occurred to me that my blog should follow the same rules. Sometimes my blogs can be short, but it seems, most of the time they are long. If you know me in person, you know that's just me. I talk a lot. It does take me a while to tell a story, because I like to set the scene for you. I want you to feel like you were there; to understand why this event or tidbit was important enough for me to share with you.
My blog posts are a reflection of me. If it is long, it's because I felt I could not say what I had to say in fewer words and make the same point or impression. I hope the length doesn't offend anyone. Maybe if my entries were shorter, I would have a large following. I've never thought much of popularity, and quite truthfully, am flattered that anyone even reads what I write. I apologize if they are wordy, and I thank you for reading them.
And a PS to my friend who told me about the 300-500 words: no, I'm not offended! I had never thought of it, but now that I have, I don't think I will let it limit me. I'm glad there's no blog police!
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