There is something kind of cool about watching it snow outside, and pile up, and up, and up, to a foot deep, and then NOT shoveling because you know the temps will soar to 40 and 50, even near 70 in just a few days!  I did that. We got around 12″ of snow out of this past storm front. A neighbor boy came over on Saturday and offered to shovel (for pay, of course), but it hadn’t stopped snowing yet, so I asked him to come back the next morning. He said he would.  He didn’t.  And I didn’t.  Until today, now three days later.

I had to take my 2-wheeled trash bin out from the near-back outside of the garage, across the driveway, to the curb in front of the house this morning. As I had a breakfast meeting at 9:00 a.m. today, and since I will be hosting the neighborhood Bunco Babes tomorrow night, it now seemed like a good idea to get it done.  So I shoveled by myself at 8 am when it was a fresh 16° this morning.  It might have been easier if I had done it when the snow was still light and fluffy, before anyone (like the neighbor kid) or I walked on it, but it wasn’t all that bad. What made it ugh-ly was that my plastic shovel has a huge crack in it. Still, I got the job done. We are supposed to reach 47 degrees today, but at 12″, what I see is the level shrinking but not disappearing yet.  Anyhow, it’s done now.

I wonder how many other times I have left something go that if I had taken care of it sooner would have made the job easier or faster or lighter or cheaper or something. A branch that needs to be trimmed, that I worry about until it eventually falls on my deck and I say a quick prayer of thanksgiving that it didn’t break the window or damage the railing. A light that goes on in the car, and then it goes off so I forget about it, until one day I hear strange sounds that now cost more dollars to fix.  A coffee slosh on the stairs or a milk spill on the kitchen chair seat that now has become a stubborn set-in ring that won’t be coaxed away; and the wobbly arm of the dining room chair that has now split and fallen off.  Not buying an item at the grocery store because I’m not really out of it yet, and then one day when I need it,  I don’t have enough (or any) in the pantry.  I used to be better at prevention and maintenance, but I notice I’m not so good lately. I need to fix this (pun intended). Some of these used to be Kevin’s jobs, like shoveling and getting the trash out and motorcycle maintenance.  I knew they got done but I didn’t really pay much attention.  It’s been two years, and I still have to consciously, deliberately think about these things.  What’s up with that?

So I made a short list of things I really should pay attention to now, or soon:

1. My motorcycle was ridden only twice last year. Probably a good idea to get a professional to look at it, make sure it’s road-worthy, and have the oil changed before I want to take it for a joy ride on some random warm day this spring.
2. Buy a new snow shovel when they go on sale.
3. Keep a can of stain remover on hand.

I told you it was a short list.  I’m going to keep this list up, though, and add to it as I come across other still-little things that I may have neglected in the past several months.  Oh…the tear in the seam of that old sweater, the one that didn’t give me joy anyway? Yeah, that’s just going in the trash; not even going to mend it. Double-win.

What is on your list??

I went to church on Sunday. It’s the first time I have attended any kind of services here in Williamsburg (3 years almost) or for several years in South Dakota either.  I was raised a Roman Catholic and attended five years of parochial school from grades 3-7.  I baptized all three of my children in the Catholic faith also.  That all changed when I divorced my first husband  … well, that’s another story for another day.  Let’s say that I spent the last 35-40 years searching for an alternative, including membership in a Lutheran congregation, and occasional visits to Presbyterian, community/non-denominational, Episcopalian, Methodist, and Church of Religious Science churches. Ironically enough, I also graduated from a faith-based Benedictine college, the University of Mary, in North Dakota. Back to the nuns teaching me.  I have never turned away from the idea of God or a Higher Power, only from the dogma and man-made policies of organized churches telling me what to believe.

You see, even when I was a child going to church every day in school, I always had this belief that God knew me, and I had my own conversations with Her. Yes, even then, I thought that if I were made in the image of God, and I was a girl, then God must be a girl. That wasn’t a popular opinion, and I was conditioned through prayers and ritual to call God Him.  I still do sometimes. It’s exceptionally difficult to undo the training of our formative years. Now I believe God is both Him and Her.  Also another story.

I don’t know why I “suddenly” chose to go to church services now, but I’m glad I did.  Divine intervention, probably. LOL!  Rev. David Hicks MacPherson was the guest minister at the Williamsburg Unitarian Universalist church and gave a sermon titled “I’m Spiritual AND Religious.”  I interpreted his message (in a nutshell) to be that spirituality is about our feelings and our internal relationship with ourselves and with God.  Religion is about our actions and our external expression of our beliefs and commitment to those beliefs with other like-minded people.  It makes total sense to me. He talked about the goal of a world community with peace, liberty, love, and justice for all.  That is something I am willing to work and live for, something I want to be involved in.

Perspective is such an extraordinary thing in our lives. I may not fully understand the chain of events that make the world keep turning, or why people are like they are.  Ha! There’s a LOT I don’t know.  So I am willing to keep an open mind that the goal of a better world and my place in it is possible, and probable, and worth working toward.  The insights I got at this service were astonishing. I felt a rightness about being there. This searcher has continued to read, ponder, watch on tv and You Tube, ideas and people who share those ideas about church, religion, God, etc. I even  have a book called “I’m Spiritual, Dammit!”  And now I might be ready to be religious again. I feel good about that for some reason.

It’s hard to believe summer is almost gone – at least on the calendar. It’s plenty warm and humid where I am in Virginia. Trees are still showing off green leaves and flowers are in bloom, but grass is stressing out from the heat and getting a bit brown. I’m not a huge fan of paying for watering, and besides, my sprinkler system doesn’t work well in places.  So I enjoy the view from my air conditioned house – because I don’t mind paying for that comfort!

A typical summer used to include plenty of motorcycle and camping trips when I had a hubby to do things with. We managed to get in a few trips to Water Country and Busch Gardens also.  This year I haven’t had my motorcycle out at all except in March to get the required inspection sticker updated. I had the camper out once also. Haven’t been to WC or BG at all. It’s just been too darn hot. I’m hopeful that the fall will bring temperature relief and I can still get out some.

It’s not that I don’t get out at all, though. I went to California in April, have been to Minnesota twice already (graduation and funeral), to Pittsburgh (conference), and Washington DC (work twice plus another convention), and Florida (work).  But that’s not quite the same as “summer recess” and the freedom of the open road.

It’s easy to find excuses for staying indoors, like the heat and humidity outdoors.  Or being tired because the heat and humidity wears me out. Thankfully, I can borrow Christine’s 9-year old daughter Malori when I want to go swimming, and when my niece Amanda visited I got to the Williamsburg Winery and drove around sightseeing a little.

I worry that I am wasting my precious time, and yet I know that whatever I am doing, even it’s taking naps or letting my mind wander, it is important for me to be doing that in that moment. I need to remember that restoring my energy is a long process, just like depleting it took decades of hustling to work and raising kids and going to school.  I also need to remember that Kevin gave me this gift of a year for R&R and to figure out The Next Big Thing.  I don’t need to rush it, even if I have a path I’m already working on. Just being Me is a tall order!

So I’m not going to fret over the summer days getting shorter. I am going to look forward to the cooler days of the fall, knowing that I can still ride or camp or nap then if I want to. And now I’m going to go put my feet up for a while.

My cousin Mary Jo just let her Lucy go over the Rainbow Bridge.  Another friend Shawna saw her dog take the same trip.  And yet another just found out his dog, whose health has been precarious, is in steady decline and has developed a strong heart murmur.  It’s so sad to hear all of this, partly (or maybe especially) because I have two of these furry loves, and one has been closer to this path at times than I want to think about.

We got Buddy when my youngest son Gabriel went off to college.  It was several months later, and I apparently had a strong need to nurture that Kevin thought would best be filled by a puppy. It was truly love at first sight, and 12 years later, there is still a special connection between me and my Bud.

Baby Buddy

Buddy after surgery

Baby Bo

Bo and Buddy

With Daddy

We’ll miss Buddy!

Bo likes the stairs

Bo-Bo

The Budster

We got Buddy a brother two years later because he was exhausting us, and we thought a playmate would help him release his energy.  It turns out that beagles never lose their energy, no matter what!!  While Buddy has required a few thousand dollars in medical care and medications, Bo is the poster-pup for the perfect beagle.  Maybe it’s because Buddy really has needed me that I am so very fond of him.  And yes, Bo has his special moments, too. Bo is the cuddler in bed, the one who sticks his head under my hand to get me to scratch his head, and the one who naps right next to my leg. Buddy is the dog at my feet while I’m working, the one standing guard when I go to the bathroom, and the one who can’t help himself but get underfoot when I’m cooking in case I accidentally-on-purpose drop something to nibble on.

I’ve thought I was close to The Big Decision for Buddy a few times since Kevin died. Once when he was a puppy we did almost lose him to a reaction to a vaccination where he spent the night in the Vet’s ER trying to get a 105 temp to break.  So I know what being “this close” looks like.

It’s a hassle sometimes to have to make doggie-care arrangements when I go out of town for work.  And of course, there is a financial cost to that, too.  There’s the other money required also – for food, treats, vet bills, Rx, shots, tags, and and and. But when I walk in the door and they are so happy to see me they almost pee themselves, it’s all worth it. Every time, every dime.

I knew when I got them I could expect to have them with me somewhere around 12-15 years.  Every time I hear of someone else’s furry child leaving this Earth, I do a little grieving for my dogs who are still here with me, hoping they are not on borrowed time yet.  I hurt for you and for me.  And I love mine a little more, giving extra treats today, and extra petting. Grief is still grief, no matter who or what you lost.

Feel free to share a picture of your furry kids. I’d love to see them.  I’ll even show them to Buddy and Bo.

It is high school graduation time, so I’m heading to Minnesota to celebrate with a goddaughter and a godson.  I stopped to see Kevin’s mom on the way and had a great visit. I’ll be seeing my siblings soon and am anticipating that our annual birthday bash will live up our expectations (tattoos on the agenda this time).

It’s a long drive from Virginia, as in DAYS long. But I’m glad I drove, especially this time of year. Except for the occasional dark skies and thunderstorms.  I love the green fields, the farmsteads, the cows, the tractors. It’s all so peaceful looking, so wholesome, so natural. And the vistas are wonderful – you can see for miles. One frustration I’ve had in Virginia is that all the trees mean you can’t see much. It’s not exactly claustrophobic, but it doesn’t inspire me to breathe deeply and relax the way the wide open spaces do.

Another great thing about a road trip is the time to empty out the brain and let the mind wander…while paying attention to the driving, of course. At home, I  rarely take long stretches of time to not think, or to daydream about what I’m seeing – to put on my Observer hat. No judgments, just seeing what there is to see. It’s really quite freeing to see without analyzing or labeling or judging.

The closer I get to “home,” the better I feel. I miss my furry boys and kind of wish I had brought them. But it’s better for them to stay with the house sitter. Less stress for all of us. I see the Craftsman and farm style houses and wish I had one, with gleaming wood floors, built-in cabinets, and warm fuzzy feelings all around. I definitely like my current house a lot, don’t get me wrong. Maybe it’s just the nostalgia or homesickness talking; give me one winter up north and I would maybe change my thoughts quickly! And, to0,  I suppose after several days of 24/7 sibling time, I’ll be ready to get back to my own place.

It’s been interesting to drive through places Kevin and I have been. I caught myself talking to him in the car, saying things like, “Remember when we went there and had those Maid-Rites that you bragged about and I didn’t like?” Or, “Remember when we were almost in that tornado and I was freaking out? This rain reminds me of that.”  I am sure when I eat some good walleye I’ll tell  him about that, too;  it was one of our favorite meals.

We used to do a lot of road tripping – to Saskatoon, Canada; to Maine for lobster and to see the fall colors; to Arkansas to ride motorcycles; to Florida to see family; and countless trips to Minnesota and Iowa from South Dakota. I have also driven solo to New Mexico and Colorado a few times, plus the moving trip to Virginia. It never gets old to see the country – and off of the Interstates.  I’m happy that my GyPSy gives me an “alternate route” option so I can slow the pace down some.

I can remember and say those things without crying now.  I am healing.

PS-here’s a shot of Ida, the ice cream clerk in a small town I stopped at in Indiana. She was so Midwestern Nice: helpful, offering different cone and cup styles, and checking to see which scoop I wanted on the bottom: the dark cherry or the vanilla.  She acted like I had known her forever.