Age is Just a Number

Wallops and Posts

When I started blogging I didn’t necessarily have a list of objectives, but there are a few things that I knew I didn’t want to do;  let it become a Rant Page, People Bashing, or Politics, for example.


Lately I am getting walloped (one of my favorite words) by the girl’s mother, The Mother;  I don’t mean she literally comes over and wallops me with a frying pan.  These are all indirect and subtle – or not so subtle - wallopings.   Guess I just gotta write about it.


Last week was tough dealing with her interference into our daily lives.  She too got a new dog - a small breed – Papillon - that, yes, she wanted specifically to put bows in its ears - and was passively demanding that her daughter come over and play/bond with this new pup – during our 2 weeks of family time.  It’s hard, it is our time, why can’t we just have our little family unit for just days in a row?  Fast forward to the other day when we dropped my stepdaughter off at her mom’s:  Garage door open, displaying their lifestyle and there was a New Scooter.  No plates yet.  It was sitting next to the Harley, same size as the Harley.  I admit that I was intrigued at the creativity. I am not a shopper or TV watcher so I am light years behind what’s out there to spend one’s disposable income on.  A scooter in the suburbs for someone who commutes 5 miles on the night shift. I wouldn’t have thought of that one.   So I wandered off to Google just to check out the potential cost of one of these.   You could say it’s an obsession I battle with: "how much of our Child Support Check went to that new toy?"   Yep, I am guilty, I do that.   Yep, I actually waste time checking this stuff out.


During my commute the next day, my husband read an article in a local rag to me about "Letting Go".  Oh yes, nice reminder.   I actually felt a small wave of Peace as we rounded the turn into downtown.


But then Google called to me when I got in to work and I typed in "Papillon Puppy Price".   Here’s my reaction to the price tag:  I literally felt a wave of Deep Loss fall over me and almost an urge to weep with grief – right there in my little cube.   Why this emotion – Grief?  I felt a Loss for my stepdaughters.   I felt a loss for their future, their growth and potential and whatever else money "can buy".  I felt a loss for what they are being taught…or not taught.   I felt a loss for their integrity, and faith, and trust in others.  I felt a loss for their ability to spend time alone and be creative and appreciate the little things.  I wholeheartedly felt Loss for them.


Sometimes, when my husband is too busy – needing to be at work, for example - I take over duties that fall into that Unknown Job Description category;  Like taking the girls to a dentist appointment as The Stepmom.   These situations are like stepping into a guerilla war zone.  I am doing what is best for the girls, yet my Role is not recognized so I could be under fire if the Mood is right.  Yesterday, because my husband was busy, I spent a generous amount of time arranging an orthodontist visit for my youngest – she is about 2 years seriously past due of desperately needing braces.  We waited all this time for The Mother, the primary care giver, to do this task.   I accomplished the task and we were set up to go in.   The end result – the Mood was right – The Mother dug in, took over the task and will arrange it herself;  we are back at the starting point.


I didn’t have a wave of emotion that time, but it was still present in a duller sense.  I imagined the time it takes for The Mother to shop for a particular kind of Dog, the travel to another state to get it, the time it takes to shop for a Scooter and the arrangements to bring it home.   I wonder if my stepdaughter sees that and what she may feel.   I have some clue – the tear-filled times where she expresses that she’s not good enough for her mom – she is an A student.  I wonder about the energy that The Mother put into the phone conversation where she just had to maintain control of an orthodontist appointment.  I wonder if/how I have disappointed my stepdaughter(s).  God has a purpose for me here and some days I just have no clue, and feel it’s an accomplishment just figuring out what to have for dinner that doesn’t come from a box.  It’s just Hard.   At the same time that I want to Protect her from her Mother, I want to encourage her to Love her Mother.   It’s Hard.  I almost didn’t post this, because who wants to know about this stuff anyway?  And, am I gossiping about The Mother?  Am I not displaying a Mature Character by relaying these stories?  Do my posts always have to be about Glazed Donuts and Naps in a Hammock?   It’s just Hard.

Happy Tinkles

To anyone who asked me if I would get a new dog after Jesse passed and I said no....well I can't help myself.   Welcome, Izzi!

We brought her home last Sunday and she fits right in.   I am pretty certain she came with the Potty Trained Gene.   So far she knows her name, knows the word Potty, sleeps all night and holds it till she gets Happy and tinkles accidentally, or goes outside, and she talks back.   She is all of 10 weeks old.

I have researched this breed, Border Collie, and am preparing for the worst.   Tales have it that they can pick locks, rewire your house and climb on the roof and refuse to come down.   I am hoping to channel her energy a bit more positively and train her to wash windows or do the laundry, maybe even vacuum.   All she needs is an opposable paw.   I also hear they can tunnel to China - I have a pile of dirt ready and waiting.   I understand that they even try to outsmart you - well I passed Calculus so put 'er right here, pup.   I am ready...check back in six months.

It's really unfair to leave out the unknown dog.   

We've actually had Maya for 2 years now and Jesse did her best to teach Maya how to be a dog before she moved on.   Maya is German Shepherd and Something.   She's a smart cookie in her own right.  We took her on vacation with us, and up to that point I believed she didn't like water....until she discovered my sister's pond.   She was either damp or wet the entire time we were in Montana.   So upon our return I spent $8.77 on a plastic pool and this dog goes bananas!   The first five minutes she did a slide into homeplate and put a hole in it - I repaired that, now she's been more careful, but she gets crazy.   The best $8.77 I've spent.   So far Izzi and Maya have worn themselves out.   Izzi hasn't tested out the pool yet, but I am not sure her white coat will be white anymore after the rough housing with Maya.

I just love critters.   The City may force me to change my Land Use status to Pet Land.

More Thoughts on Gripey

I think I've figured out The Gripey.  After a whopping 7 hours-in-a-row sleep (that's one night in a row) my brain kicked in to help me narrow it down to what makes for a Gripey time.

First of all, after reading the insightful and human blogs that were permeating the week, I was feeling a bit - well - shallow and inferior.   These silly feelings start migrating into my being when sleep deprivation gets mixed with daily stress and spiced with a dollop of ignoring my daily/weekly rejuvenation routines, and all get thrown into life's bowl of fruit salad.   Gripey.   Then I am Gently reminded that God has no Prom Queens or Dorky Nerds who are favored or brutalized and we are all on the same playing field in His game - therefore, why must I be comparing my character with others who write wonderfully insightful blogs?   Learn from them; we can always learn something from everyone.    Aaahhh.    Got it, but it takes some sleep to get there, too.

So, the Gripeys, why?   The Mother of my Stepdaughters.  Happy Plastic People....  We can usually go for a short bit without any adverse effects from our relationship/dealings with her, but sometimes she just gets in there.   Plainly, it's having a constant tinge of knowing that we deal with a person who intentionally disrespects our existence (home, routine, schedule, time and relationships with the kids) and realistically undermines our intentions and actions, directly, indirectly and through her gossip chain.  All with a smile and a wave...Happy Plastic People.... 


It's the fall-out of that too:   We are conscious of what we can reveal in daily conversation - no topic is sacred to our real-estate.   We almost always get "screwy" information that you can just never really trust or really verify, but yet it sort of sounds viable.   We find that we get those little "fibs", that ever-protection of the mom, especially when trying to verify.  Happy Plastic People....  It's picking up the phone when the oldest daughter calls and she doesn't acknowledge us and asks for her sister.   It's sharing "our time" with their mother, while she - without regard - believes that she has full access during our time and juggling that with our schedule - and saying nothing but encouraging words to the kid.   It's the ever present cloud of knowing that we are viewed as The Stepfamily, The Second Family and that our status - their father - is never recognized or respected.     It's me signing a permission slip to watch my name being crossed out and the mom and stepdad's names filled in over mine.   It's setting down pride and sucking it up to eliminate a fight, legalities and related expense, so that the girls aren't put in the middle, and in the end they may grow up somewhat and relatively balanced and choose to have an adult relationship with us.  Okay, that's just this week (not the permission slip, but it happened once before).

So, what do I learn from this woman?   It seems I've only learned bad things from her - I can't trust her.   I believe you can learn something from everyone - but what?   The best I come up with is:   "I would do it differently." as my personal little saving mantra that stops my personal deluge of black thoughts.   Then the follow up with Prayer.   She's still there though.  Happy Plastic People....  Messy, messy, messy.   We mess things up.   And the trickle down is cumulative.

That's the news from Lake Gripe, where the house is kinda clean, the laundry is mostly done and we're Blessed with the Means to pay our bills.

Gripey

Gripe Gripe Gripe, that's all I have wanted to do lately.  Gripe about orange cones in my commute, gripe about the girl's mother, gripe about rude people, gripe about Harley noise, and gripe about a persistant lack of sleep (2,4,3,5 hours...pick one) that keeps me gripey.   At the same time knowing that I have little to gripe about, for Pete's sake.   Then I wandered off to my little community of bloggers to catch up, since I've been spending all my free time griping.   During my waking hours  (at 2,4,3 or 5a.m....pick one) many worship songs flood my brain, and yep, like the rest of you's "Oh no, You never let go" rings through my brain this week as I had the privilege of hearing it through 3 services as well.   Then I wandered back to Dave Powers' blog, where I'd been checking for signs of life, and low and behold he jumped out there with stuff so-on-the-other-end of Gripey that I feel the need to just be quiet.   

Today on Prime Time

I felt the need to share Today's Devotional directly, as it is so applicable for me.   This one in particular, I am sure, touches maybe just a couple other people??   I have learned in my more mature years that I have a touch of "control freakiness", so I have asked this question to myself so often, and have had this discussion with God just a few dozen times....or more.

Overlooking Offenses
TGIF Today God Is First, by Os Hillman 

A man's wisdom gives him patience; it is to his glory to overlook an offense. - Proverbs 19:11

I have a friend who tells a story of a lesson the Lord taught him through his wife. It seems that every time he and his wife would get in the car to travel somewhere, his wife had a strong need to direct his driving. She would tell him where to turn and when to turn, even in their own subdivision. It was such a horrible habit that it drove my friend crazy and became the source of many an argument. Finally, one day my friend concluded that the Lord was trying to teach him something through this experience. He decided he would let go of his need to be free from this correction. He began to affirm his wife and even thank her for her input. It was excruciatingly painful to do this from where he sat.

A few months passed. He let go of the entire situation and actually got to a place where it just didn't matter to him anymore. An interesting thing happened a few months later. One day his wife looked at him and said, "John, I just realized that I have been directing your driving all these years and now realize why I do that. It goes back to my childhood when I had to direct my younger brothers and sisters. I am so sorry I have been doing that." My friend nearly fell out of his seat!

Whenever we work close to another person, whether in an office or home, small offenses can become the source of great conflict. Resentment and irritability soon follow. God brings these "offenses" into our lives to develop character qualities in us. He uses individuals in our lives to accomplish his goal of making us more Christ-like. So the next time you complain or resist a habit or action from someone close to you, ask God if it has been placed there to develop some quality in you.

Pride is the root source of the need to change another person. A man's wisdom gives him patience-to let go of little offenses. This is where spiritual maturity is seen in the day-to-day activity of life. Is there someone close to you who has some habit you really want to change? Give up that desire to the Lord. Who knows, He may even change it after you let go of the need to change it.

A Brush With Fame

Vacation.3

While waiting at Glacier International Airport to pick up my sister arriving from Arizona I was parked at the curb, standing outside the car.   It was hot.   There are 3 gates at this airport so the folks filing out of the terminal were clearly from one flight, arriving from Phoenix.  There was a considerable hubbub near me and around me and I started to notice a number of large, African American men milling about.  Without malice, I honestly thought "you folks ain't from around here".    Which led to the next nanosecond of thought "Why are you folks here?", leading to the next nanosecond, " I may want to get an autograph" as I noticed instruments being lugged around.   So I boldly asked one of them, "So who are you guys?", and a tall lanky one answered with a sly grin "Earth, Wind and Fire."   I said "COOL!"

Fortunately, as is humorously expected of my sister, she found another way out of the airport causing me to be able to watch the hubbub a bit longer.   I sneakily snuk a fist sized tablet and pen out of my purse and turned to a really big guy and asked "Do you guys give autographs?" (like, what would I do with it after the fact anyway?)   He said with a very deep voice "I am the head of security for the band".   I covered quickly as I hid the tablet in my pocket and told him I figured he was the great baratone voice in the band...ha ha.   Not a good cover, but he looked like a bouncer so I left him alone.   They all made their ways to their various vans and sped off to the private ranch, where I learned my older sister's friends caretake, where there would be a nice, big private 4th of July celebration Earth, Wind and Fire style.   Wish I woulda been invited.   Fat chance.

Then.   Bigger Do, Smaller Breadbasket.

More like who I saw.   Smaller Do, Bigger Breadbasket.

Sailing, Takes Me Away....

What....Do.... Summer Vacation.2

I think about the Christopher Cross song that got me on down the road in my 20's as I made many road trips from Arizona to Montana in my little silver Celica...those were my days of less responsibility and youthful freedom.

One of my favorite to do's is to go Sailing, or generally be on or in the water in some way.   Back in '92 - I can't believe it's been that long - I lived for the summer in my sister's cabin next to their house;  I was on an intermission from life.




At that time my brother-in-law, Ben, had a Thistle Sailboat - fast little boats that on Flathead Lake made up a little fleet that raced on Friday nights.   I was his crew for the summer.   Oh man, what Joy!

We'd head out after dinner in the beatup little VW Rabbit down to Flathead.   There were about 2 dozen Thistles, and most would be racing.     So we'd sail out to the buoys to start the crisscross pattern in front of the start line, and at the right time the Race Committe Boat would blast the horn and we'd all head into the course to cross the start line at the precise time.   As the sun starts going down behind Blacktail Mountain, that's when the breezes come in.   We'd take off and it's amazing the focus one has when in the boat during a race.   I think, in fact I am pretty sure, we never won. 

We sailed 3 legs, first to the wind toward Blacktail, then as we cornered the first buoy I'd raise the Spinnaker for a beautiful downwind run on the second, then corner the third buoy and quickly lower the spinnaker and raise the jib for a fast leg across the finish.   We'd cross and I'd realize I'd been holding my breath for who knows how long.   Ahhhhh....

So now Ben has grown up and bought a more sensible boat for the family to sail in.   A Catalina 22 or something like it.   It's like a little camper and it even has a port-a-potty ( I thought that's what lakes were for....! ).   I have not helped to sail this boat, rather I hang out on the bow where the view is the best.   We only sailed a few times while visiting this time, and I think it might be enough to feed my soul for a few more years, not sure.



Don't mind his look, he's really happy!

New Album for View

If you look to your left, you will find a photo album of a selection of pictures from my vacation that I've managed to spend about 18 hours creating.   Typepad really is not user friendly with this.   It also insists on keeping one of the most uninteresting pictures to display, even though I spent about another hour trying to get it to go away, and I even tried to display a really cool one that nabs the eye.    Oh well.

Hope some of you may find some humor in Family Photos!

Shawn Colvin at Chautaugua

We stepped out last evening to see Shawn Colvin.   I first heard of her through a Preacher's Son in the early 90's, so she's been one of my favorites for a long time....long before her notable hit "Sonny Came Home".   I am happy to report that she did not do that song - much to the chagrin of all the neo-Shawn fans.

We're finding that instead of being the house drones we feared we were turning into, we actually do like getting out, it's the getting there that's the pain, so we don't very much.   Last night was different in that we had extra time and used the shuttle lot at CU.   No pain at all!

Shawn was witty and fun and excellent.   And we're looking forward to Bruce Hornsby, again at Chautaugua.

What Did You Do For Summer Vacation.1a?

With the spotty posts in the last few weeks, there are backtracking posts I want to catch up on.   We had one computer at my sister's house for about 10+ adults and two teens - there wasn't much screen time.   

I had 4 goals on this trip:

1. Camp in Glacier National Park
2. Spend time with my Mom
3. Survive the Family Gathering
4. Sail on Flathead Lake

Mission Accomplished!


One of the hikes we did in Glacier was the Highline Trail.  It starts at Logan Pass, and is quite busy with people and mountain goats.   They had much late Spring moisture so there was still snow on the trail in places.   The most memorable feature of the trail is walking along The Wall.   For some alien reason I spazzed out.   I experienced anxiety and fear.   I clutched that cable like a starved Chihuahua on a porkchop.   Twofisted.   Later, I recognized it was claustrophobia, rather than fear of heights.   Claustrophobia, because the wall felt as though it was pressing in (or rather outward), forcing me to the cliff edge.   I felt rather childish with my "fear" and my husband, John, was patient enough to hang and walk with me.   I nearly teared up.   Yeah, Brave and Adventurous Donna hits her wall, pun intended.

I survived that part, even though I had visions of somehow tumbling off the side down onto the Going-To-The-Sun Road that twists through The Park, unrelentlessly and unforgiveably.   The older siblings turned back at some point and we hiked on, totalling a nice little 5+ mile hike.  (I have 2 brothers and 2 sisters, all older and I am 6 years younger than the last.  My oldest sister is 15 years my senior.)

My sister took a picture, unbeknownst to me, that Completely captured my trepidation and discomposure .   Dennis and Judy (brother and wife) are in front unaffected.   Don't Make me point out my pathetic Self hugging The Wall....and try not to laugh out loud too much.




A few other pictures of John on the Trail - this is a Gorgeous Place!