Notice how far you've come, not how far you still have to go!

Early this morning when Scott kissed me good-bye (my favorite part of every day), he asked where I was going to be today. When I told him I'd be home, he said he would try to come home early. I immediately felt loved. What I heard was that my being here is a good enough reason for him to come home, that he enjoys being home because of ME! I remember when he used to work late all the time. Even though he doesn't always make it home as early as he wishes, my perception is that now he wants to come home more than he wants to work late.

Yesterday I shared some "news and goods" about Scott in group and was reminded of how important it is to record them, to notice how far he's (we've) come. Then this morning in my devotional book I read: The memories of these special times are important reminders of God's love and goodness in our lives, and they need to be recorded for His glory and our encouragement.

So here are some more!
This weekend we went to the range to try out the club AR-15 Scott borrowed for me to learn. I kept noticing how patient and encouraging, relaxed and humorous he was with me, especially in places where I started to get frustrated or confused. Notice I said "started to"; his response diffused it right away. He told me how well I was doing and asked specific questions to help me. He treated me like a peer, made good suggestions and let me decide what I wanted to do next. This is what he's been like since he introduced me to his sport a few months ago. It's such a direct contrast to when he taught me to drive the boat almost four years ago. My experience of him then was impatient, frustrated and unable to understand what my problem was (although, a seed had already been planted from our early work with Marcie and I specifically remember him once calling out from behind the boat--after first criticizing me--"you're doing good, Hon!"). We do to others what was done to us, and Scott's dad was what he called a "negative coach": Scott got the most attention from him when he was doing it wrong, and hardly ever when he was doing it right. So at the end of the day when I shared all this with Scott and appreciated him for it, I told him it was important for him to notice, too. He's breaking a generational cycle, no easy feat, which gives me hope for our non-existent future kids, too.

By the way, I meant to tell him this as we were leaving the range, but I stopped with it on the tip of my tongue and asked instead whether he was ready to receive a compliment I wanted to give him. That's a switch for me, because I tend to just lay things on him without warning. He looked at me funny and replied, "I'm driving," which was just beautiful. In the old days he would have told me to spit it out, and here he was telling me in a roundabout way that he wanted to be in a position to hear me! I think he is getting better at receiving compliments, too. (We decided to wait until we got home.)

This weekend we had to replace our broken clothes washer. Now, with the exception of buying a house, for some reason we have always been a good team when it comes to shopping for major purchases like cars and appliances. But Saturday we hit a wall where I had my heart set on a machine that cost almost twice what Scott planned to spend. Every time he questioned me on it, I got defensive. Finally he said, "I'm just trying to understand why you're set on that particular machine." The clarity and honest in his words and tone interrupted my pattern and melted my defensiveness. I said quietly, "I'm trying to understand it, too." I realized that I wasn't even sure whether I really wanted the other machine, or was just stuck in a pattern of fighting for something he didn't want me to have. In the end we bought the less expensive machine, which it turns out I am ecstatically pleased with. And I thanked him for letting me work that out for myself.

When I notice how far he's come, it draws me farther. It used to be that my responses helped changed his. Now his are changing mine, too! It feels more than ever like a partnership in growth.

Connecting the dots

I just saw a connection between my last two posts (Trying too hard and Crazy in love). Inbetween realizing that I don't have it all together and now, I've started asking for help. I start most days with some quiet time, bible/study reading, and asking God to fill me with his Spirit and lead me through the day. Some days I feel like I get it, and some days I don't feel anything at all (hm, what was that "book title" Marcie shared just this week, on how feelings can lie!). But what I think I am doing is altering my view, setting my frame for the day. So, everything looks different, and I act different in turn. Hmmmm...

Crazy in Love

The past three weeks or so, I've been finding Scott (my husband) really attractive. Electrifying, even; I'm drawn to him, crazy in love! I've been appreciating him in bits, so tonight I finally shared this all with him.

One thing I've noticed over several weeks (maybe months) is that when Scott asks for me, I respond quickly (or at least tell him right away if I can't). It signifies a level of trust: I have faith that when he calls for me or asks me to do something, he has a good reason (vs. feeling like he's interrupting or demanding, or asking him why). Once he called for me and I came running, to find he just wanted to show me the neighbor's tree blooming, because he knew I'd like it! More recently I've noticed that he responds as quickly to me. He's also asking me for things that in his eyes only I can do, like alter his shooting jacket or help pay the bills. He asks in a way that expresses confidence in me, and I am really responding to that by stepping up (this week he talked me through paying all the bills myself, without either of us getting frustrated!). All these things make me feel treasured and esteemed; for the first time in our relationship I KNOW for SURE he thinks very highly of me.

Now that he is pursuing a hobby he really enjoys (marksmanship), it adds to his attractiveness. It's like he's putting more Scott-ness into the world. That instead of the guy that goes to work all day, then comes home and works around the house, I'm seeing a fuller picture of Scott. I absolutely love watching him at something that's play for him; it brings out facets I don't get to see in the hard working man. I love to see him laugh around the other guys, get excited (in his subdued fashion) when he does well, get totally absorbed in his hobby.

I feel almost like when we were dating; better, actually, full to bursting and content. I can't stop talking about him; little things make me think of him; thinking of him is exciting; and did I mention he is really damn sexy!

I told him all this in a less polished way, and am also writing it so that I don't forget. So that when I get crazy restimulated, I remember all this good. I told him that, too. THIS is the real thing, not the other way around. Amazingly, even though he declined to mirror me, he seemed able to receive; he assured me that he got it, and spontaneously appreciated me for it.

In group a few weeks ago, we talked about passion, how it's related to connection, if you could have it in the middle of all this work. Here it is!

Trying too hard

I'm trying too hard.

My church is currently hosting an event, The Holy Spirit Encounter. This afternoon Blake (our pastor) taught on the Holy Spirit. I have heard him say many times that we can't make things happen, it's the Spirit in us, or the Holy Spirit power that does it. I've never been able to make this jive with not being passive, like people who pray and wait for God to zap them with a magic wand, taking no responsibility or action at all. During a break I asked Blake about this and he said... Good question! It's about being so intimate with God that the Spirit shows you what you need to do (like going to therapy); that the Spirit won't let you be passive, but leads you to action. It made no sense to me before he put it in that context, of intimacy with God, which is a huge theme in everything he teaches and preaches. Then it seemed so simple.

Last night I was totally restimulated by Scott, and although I knew the right, I couldn't bring myself to do it (or rather, I pretended to, in a self-serving way). This morning I read several chapters in the Bible but made no sense of it. I'm missing this intimacy, this power. I used to have it (remember a couple of years ago when Marcie asked me to share how I managed to go into containment during a particularly difficult session with Scott? I went out of the room, had my frustration out with God, and asked for his Holy Spirit power to go back in there and do the right thing even though I didn't feel like it.). How do I get it back? Blake said keep surrendering, keep asking.

Blake said most people relate to God the way they related to their father. Hm, Marcie once said almost the same thing--that people put their childhood wounds on God. That explains a lot!

A couple of weeks ago my "news & goods" was how I'd been smacked with the realization (through another Scott-moment) that as much as I thought I knew and as "advanced" as I thought I was, I'm NOT! Tonight that was even more startlingly obvious. I also realized that it has been a good long while since I have truly been in the service of anyone. Like when I'm in "containment" with Scott, instead of being in his service I am cleverly trying to manipulate (but I can fool myself into thinking I'm in his service). And when people call me for help or attention, I stay in my head and egotistically give them advice out of what I know instead of being curious, asking questions or offering validation, contradiction, or attention that helps them move into discharge and healing. I separate myself with the idea that I am somehow better because I once admitted I was worse (and judging the Christians who don't). But I am putting less out there these days. As if I have "arrived" at some level and shouldn't have to do any more work in humility, that Scott (and others) should now be doing for me. And I try to make them, in roundabout ways that seem therapeutically correct (Marcie might say, "NICE TRY!!!").

Can I apply this realization? Obviously not without Holy Spirit power and lots of help! I asked God to keep showing me, breaking me. I used to be broken, to experience "Godly sorrow" and the surprisingly wonderful things that came out of it. But I guess I can't experience it once and expect that to serve me the rest of my life!

P.S. I have lately been trying to figure out what to do with my life next (focussing on the outcome instead of embracing the process, which is very much related to everything I'm writing). Flipping through a book by Harry and Cheryl Salem entitled Distractions from Destiny, my eyes fell on a page that said, if you don't know what to do with your life, stop seeking what you should do and seek God! After all I've been through I still can't say I know how to seek God, so I don't think it's any coincidence that I'm at this place at this time, when PCUMC is hosting three days on doing just that.

Family Patterns

There's nothing like the holidays to really bring out the obvious... While spending time around my parents, I noticed some really startling stuff that got me thinking about my own patterns. Ron and I compared notes later, and he referred to this as seeing with his "third eye", which really fits! Click "Read more..." below to see the four things that really jumped out at me.
Take 1:
First, I joined my dad on a shopping expedition for my mom's Christmas gift. She had requested matching wedding rings, which was a tall order considering Dad hand-cast their original matching rings 36 years ago in an Army dental lab in Vietnam. Dad lost his ring years ago, and Mom's no longer fit. But, I digress. So, this particular day Dad is complaining that Mom had added diamonds to her request (she never had a diamond ring), and stressing so much over picking out the wrong thing that he winds up buying nothing at all. Then he wound up taking Mom out later that week so she could pick it herself. See the wound? Whatever I do, it's not good enough.

Take 2:
In the course of lamenting over how hard it is to please Mom (and trust me, I know), Dad tells me a story about buying Mom a new (used) car last month. It was unbelievable. He made the deal of the decade with the dealership, but at every step of the way Mom kept giving him not good enough (I later learned from Ron that her telling Dad "I could have got a better deal if I was with you" was code for "I'm feeling left out"). In the end Mom got the car plus $1000 cash back! Her response to this deal? "Eh, it's okay." After hearing this story I went home to Scott and actually cried telling him that I didn't want to be like this to him, because I can think of specific times I've done it before. He said he didn't think I was like that anymore, at least about material things; but I don't want to tell him it's not good enough when I ask him to spend time with me and he can only give me 15 minutes (remembering that there is a balance so long as I'm asking for what I need).

Take 3:
Still on the shopping trip, I asked Dad what I could get him for Christmas. He said he didn't need anything, then proceeded to point out several items he was interested in. HOWEVER, I almost missed it, because it sounded like this: "Oh, look, electric razors. I was thinking about getting one, but I had one before and it nicked me all the time, aw forget it, I'll just keep using a regular razor." Or looking at cologne gift sets, "You know, I like Stetson, but I don't see why they have to put all these lotions and extra junk in there, all I need is a bottle of cologne." The first couple of times I didn't pay attention--I already knew what I was going to get--but after the third time all of a sudden my third eye opened up and I realized OH MY GOD, THIS IS HOW HE ASKS FOR WHAT HE NEEDS!!!! So I got him a single bottle of Stetson, and for confirmation, when he opened it Christmas Day he grinned and said loudly, "Audrey, you heard me loud and clear, girl; you heard me loud and clear!" HOLY CRAP I nearly fell off my chair I was so shocked--he KNEW what he was doing! And this is where I learned to drop hints instead of asking for what I need straight up; and that if you love me, you'll pay attention and notice.

Take 4:
Christmas Day, Mom is in her usual frenzy of making sure everything is going the way she planned it in her head, the perfect day. This includes making more food than we need (even when we told her we had enough), and requiring us all to sit down together and watch a movie on the big screen (even though half of us had to leave part way through, and she herself never actually sat down in front of the screen). At one point she was interrupting the Actual Good Time we were having by posing us for photos. She called for Dad to take her photo with Jeff and Michele: "Dad, take a picture of us. Dad! RONALD! Come and take a picture! DAD, I want a picture with Jeff, come here please!" Dad, who was in the middle of a conversation and gift-unwrapping, never had a chance to respond before her repeated requests escalated. Scott leaned over to me and said, "Now I know where you get it!" Later he admitted that I did at least give him a chance to answer before I called again! But I know what it's like to feel unheard, and it makes sense that Mom repeats herself so insistently to make sure she is (even if you are thoroughly annoyed by the time she gets your attention!).

Ron and I saw these patterns even more clearly when we went over to have a chat with our parents last Thursday, but that is a whole other post...

An illusion

Well, it's been an entirely difficult and restimulating day all the way around. Lately I've begun to wonder if I'm in love with the idea that I work hard in my marriage, because I certainly don't feel I've actually been tackling any work lately, or at least not going into containment as willingly or completely as I used to. Sometimes I flatly refuse it, and then weep because both the refusal and willingness are half-hearted, and I can't have the satisfaction either of acting out or doing the right thing. I've a certain amount of pride in what I've accomplished over the last four years, and less patience with those who give up, which is quite different from how I used to feel (compassion and grief). So now I'm thinking these are shells I'm building around my own dissatisfaction, so I don't have to look at it. Shaina, if you're reading, thanks for sending the notes today; they were timely!


Today we rented Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. There's a scene where Christopher Lee (as Willie Wonka's dentist father) declares that no son of his would ever be a chocolatier. When young Willie decides to leave home to pursue his passion, his father threatens, "I won't be here when you get back" (way to inflict that Exploration wound, dad!). When he returns a few hours later, not only is his father gone but his entire home has been ripped from the block of townhouses, leaving only snow drifting into the gaping hole. I thought, it's really that terrifying when we're kids; it feels like we're going to die.

I'm Back

I returned from L.A. about two hours ago. I'm so emotionally spent right now. I didn't realize how much so until I tried to describe bits of my experiences to Scott. Saturday I felt like I'd lived a whole week in one day; every couple of hours was a complete change from the ones before. The trip was filled with so many highs and lows, I feel like I crammed a whole month's worth of emotional/spiritual experiences into a four-day weekend. So when Scott asked how the trip was, I couldn't process. I want to journal about it, but right now I'm afraid all I'd wind up doing is recording a laundry list of activities. So I'll try to absorb it instead.

Wake up call

Last night we were up so late that by the time we remembered to call for a wake-up call, the hotel staff weren't answering the phone. So after trying to figure out how to set the bedside alarm clock and the alarm feature on my celphone, I asked God to please make sure I woke up by 6:30 so I wouldn't miss my ride or flight! Oddly for me, I actually had the sense that he would wake me. At 6:19AM, my celphone rang. It was one of my good hostesses, calling me at a decent East Coast hour. As soon as I hung up I realized this was God's wake up call and had a good laugh. I'll have to call and tell her tomorrow; she felt so bad for waking me!

Off to L.A.!

I've been experiencing a LOT of anxiety about leaving on this trip, so much that this morning my heart was racing. I deliberately went to sewing class, anyway, because I knew once I was there with nothing to do but sew, I could take my mind off the zillion things around the house I kept imagining needed to be done. My plan worked (mwah-ha-ha!!), for a few hours, at least.

I also called people, and four or five conversations later, I'm feeling much better. I really want to be excited about this trip... I am excited! Going to spend a little quality time with Scott, who's willing to session with me (what a great guy), and then in a few short hours I'm on a plane for the West coast!

If you're interested, I plan to audioblog from the road. Audioposts should show up on this page. Enjoy!

Note to Self

Things I want to look at:
How I "ration" attention, believing that I can only get so much from any given person before I reach my quota and am abandoned (e.g., today in group I asked for "two minutes" of time!). As a result, I divide attention between my many concerns, rush to a conclusion and don't really get what I need for any one of them individually (then I get angry with myself for that!). Interesting that this came up today, shortly after I wrote about rationing requests in my last post. I also do this with money; an example occurred just last week, when Scott bought me a gorgeous pair of boots I wanted but was too torn up to buy myself. God, the universe and everything pointing to what I need to look at!

Guilt being a part of that theme, I also want to look at why I separate or disconnect myself from bad happenings (such as my uncle who is currently dying) and the people involved. For one, I can't take care of them (that's about me and not a service to them, I know). Stranger, it's like I "forget" it's happening. But then, it seems I grew up in a family fond of pretending everything is okay, so there's a clue. Also must remember to share this with Scott; that is, all the secrecy and withholding of information, so he can understand why it's so scary for me when he doesn't give me an answer to even the simplest of questions.

Hope I'll be able to decipher this later...

Oxygen

I can breathe! Those of you who've known me at least the last couple of years will understand that this is a fact of miraculous proportions. All evening I've been feeling strangely, uneasy even; and a few moments ago while energetically making up the bed around Scott it suddenly hit me: I have energy! Today was my first really good day in ages. I woke up, was alert all day, able to focus on tasks, and most noticeably did NOT experience my usual afternoon lethargic slump, the one where I just want to give up and pass out. It's the "excess" energy that's had me feeling almost restless all day--I had a lot more active hours than I was used to and didn't know what to do with them.

All week I've been waking up in the morning, asking God to help me breathe, and breathing as deeply as I can while I do. I had stopped asking for physical healing a long time ago, rationalizing that if God deemed it in my best interests, he would cure me, and knowing that in any case, I am constantly being healed ("curing" and "healing" not being the same thing). But a few weeks ago I realized this kind of prayer wasn't communicating my truth in any kind of vulnerable way. I was protecting myself from possible disappointment. So I got really vulnerable, and since then I've been training myself to keep asking, vs. giving up (which we learn to do at such an early age)... and pushing against my pattern of "rationing" my requests lest I ask for too much.

Meant to Be!?!

I'm going to LA for the Dressing a Galaxy: The Costumes of Star Wars exhibit!

I had not even considered going (I contented myself with the book) until an off-hand comment by Anthony reminded me that Scott would be in LA twice this month. I thought I could use my frequent flyer miles to join him, until I realized that he's actually staying two hours outside of LA. But the wheels in my head were turning, and I couldn't stop trying to figure out a way to make it work.

I called my friend Gabby, who lives in Phoenix and has seen the exhibit, to ask her if it was worth the expense of the trip. Part of me wanted her to say, "stay home" while the other wanted her to come with me. She immediately went for Door Number Two, so no help there!

But what's really freaking me out is how the whole thing suddenly came together. I keep saying "it's like a miracle," and I'm convinced that it isn't a string of coincidences.

My first clue was that Scott didn't dismiss the idea or write it off as too expensive, but suggested I research actual costs and flight availability (he even helped). The only reason I haven't used my free ticket yet (and believe me, I've tried) is that there are never seats available on the days I can travel. Lo and behold... plenty of seats on choice flights! While I was putting a flight on hold I remembered the thousands of credit card goldpoints we've been hoarding for the last 4 years and wondered if there were any participating hotels near the museum. There were, and even more incredible, there were rooms available on the program. So I reserved four free nights at the Radisson three miles from the museum!

When I called Gabby to give her all this good news, she said she might have a line on a free rental car. Tonight she called to confirm it; her husband's company is loaning him a car for the weekend so she can take the family car! That knocked out all three of our anticipated major expenses; all we have to cover is food, gas, and admission (and of course, souveniers and fabric we plan to buy in the garment district!).

Three days ago I was agonizing and feeling guilty about even considering this trip. There are so many other things we could use the money for (several of which I was feeling guilty about wanting!). I was afraid to go alone, and unhappy with the idea of staying with a relative in LA. I also feared that if I went, I would be so overwhelmed I would freeze, and it would have been a waste of money. Now, not only am I going, but I get to spend four nights with a dear friend (my "sister"!) who I've seen once in the last eight years, and practically for free! It all came together so frighteningly fast that I can't help but wonder if God has some ulterior purpose in it, and marvel at why He would care about this little girl's wish to take a totally frivolous vacation she couldn't possibly have afforded on her own...

The End of an Era

We cleaned out the office closet today... These date back some 15-17 years to our college days!

I also found a framed certificate verifying that I had, in fact, attended the National Conference on Student Services. What amazes me is that, not only did I keep this certificate--which is not an award, but proves only that I was physically present at this event--but I FRAMED it and hung it in my professional office! How much external validation of my existence on this planet did I need??

We've been working on our home office for weeks now. One important milestone for me was boxing up my grad school books and professional journals--which were taking up space on a prominently visible bookcase as evidence of my education and professional identity--and donating them to colleagues still practicing in the field. My friend Sandy congratulated me on so setting myself adrift, a reference to a book he gifted me (and which I'm still digesting slowly), Crossing the Unknown Sea: Work as a Pilgrimage of Identity. I decided not to hang my degrees, either; they just don't go with the new decor!

This is the way of God's Universe for me: when I need to look at something, everything in my life points to it. There was the office cleaning and book boxing, the chat with Sandy, my recent ambivalence about my business, and two sermons (one by Blake, one by Beverly) about defining destiny (in the now, not only for eternity),moving forward, and not looking back to the "good ol' days". Someone who'd had a similar experience prayed with me and said she heard me as ready to move and already moving towards something... I'm just not sure what! But that's the shift, I think; I've finished with moving away, and am moving towards...

Out of this World!

For my birthday, Scott and I hosted an "Out of this World" Masquerade party. View the photo album here.

I had been almost too busy to be looking forward to the party, until Pam (Pamcakes) delivered the cake early Friday afternoon. From the moment I laid eyes on her whimsical creation, personalized just for me, the thrill began!

My friends honored me by stepping into my world of costumes and fantasy, wearing outfits ranging from the land of Oz (Wicked) to the Men In Black (during a game of Mafia, they even named our fictional town "Fantasyland"!). Most precious to me was my own darling engineer husband Scott appearing as Star Trek's Chief Engineer Scotty; for a guy who doesn't share my enthusiasm for dressing up, he went above and beyond by donning not only the costume shirt but also pants and boots to match! Everyone voted in the costume contest by giving "tickets" to their favorites in three categories (the winner being the person with the most tickets). As an unexpected bonus, this process turned out to be an icebreaker and party mixer! "Agent" Ron won Most Ingenious for raiding his closet and putting together a seriously sharp MIB suit. Most Original went to Peggy for her original creation based on Lord of the Rings. And Suzette and Troy earned Best Overall for the Vampire and his Mistress!

I think my favorite moment was around midnight, when I decided I wanted a cup of tea to mitigate the sugar in my second scrumptious piece of Pam's most excellent birthday cake (which was so beautiful I thought it was a shame to cut, until I tasted it!). Usually I'm the only tea drinker in the crowd, but I stood up and asked out of courtesy if anyone else would like a cup. To my surprise (and what surprised me more, my delight), the answer was a resounding chorus of "I'll join you!" This was followed by several minutes of David and Jair amusing us (and themselves) with their best "British tea-time" impressions while we scrounged the cupboards for enough cups and everyone selected their brew.

Parties are usually stressful for me, because I'm so co-dependently concerned about each guest's experience (particularly when many of them don't know each other, which was the case here) and whether I'm being a good hostess that the whole thing goes by in a whirl and afterwards I realize I wasn't even really at my own party. About two hours into our marathon game of Mafia, someone pointed out that I was being quiet (which eventually led to my "death" at the hands of our gentle "citizens"!). I suddenly realized that I was enjoying watching everyone else enjoy themselves! They didn't need me to take care of them or make sure they were having a good time. I had created an environment where they were comfortable and free to make their own experience. Even the spouses and guests of my friends were actively engaged! That was more than I planned for, and it felt really good.

And when the party finally broke up (due to a 1:15AM phone call--we had all lost track of time!), my guests literally turned the tables on me by breaking down tables and chairs, cleaning up and resetting all the furniture!

I'm Feeling Much Better Now...

This came down in our back yard about half an hour ago:

All morning I've been hearing the occasional thud but not seeing the source of the sound. This one was unmistakable! Ironically, Scott was out getting his new chainsaw fixed when it fell.

Scott gave me some good attention and reassurance earlier this morning, after my last post. Instead of doing the things I'd planned to do today, I felt only like curling up on the couch and watching the news until the storm passed. It's as if I have to drop everything and focus all my energy on the disaster until it's over. The part of me that was curious and not scared looked for the wound, and I think it's about hypervigilance when my parents (or anyone) were angry; either lying low until the storm of their wrath had passed, or finding a way to abate it. Scott thought that fit with what he knows about us/our patterns. One important contradiction he offered was that it didn't matter how large or small the storm was or how far away, it's still a storm and it's still scary. That spoke to the way I felt last year, and during my cancer year, and most other struggles: how much do I have to suffer for it to count? Which probably explains why I was looking for worst case scenarios earlier this morning, in the dark.

Afterwards he pointed out the sound of airplanes coming in to land at MCO; if the airport was open, it couldn't be all that bad! So we spent the morning on projects.

Wilma! I'm ho-ome!

Can't sleep anymore. The house is dark, darker than usual this time in the morning. It may as well still be the dead of night. Hurricane Wilma came ashore just south of Naples an hour ago and there've been tornados at the Cape (east of here). Arrow woke us several hours ago when the rain got harder and has not left our feet since (which includes lying on them in bed!). Parts of the back yard are already under water; I had to put on a storm coat and go out with Arrow to convince her to do her thing (in case she doesn't get a chance later; ah, the value of having a dog that goes on command!).Last night I experienced a lot of last-minute anxiety (Hurricane Charlie was a last-minute affair), despite the fact that our local news stations seemed to be unnaturally avoiding their usual doom-saying attempts to bring disaster directly upon us and were forecasting only the predicted track (and annoying me by referring to the storm as "she"!). Now that the storm has made landfall I should feel safer, but I don't. And why am I combing through news-and-weather sites searching for the worst possible potential effects? Going after what the newscasters failed to give me?

Oddly, all the way up until last night I was so unconcerned that I actually paused and took notice and marveled. I was surprised when Scott took a half-day off to prep the yard and house. And I felt like I'd been given a treat when Scott reminded me that we now have a generator to power the fridge (and nothing else), and so filled it with fresh food!

This Explains Everything!

No soap: Immigrants disdain the dishwasher - OrlandoSentinel.com: Entertainment
Growing up, our dishwasher was no more than an oversized dish rack with a door. Today, I'm just as likely to wash a sinkful of dishes by hand, and there are some things that just never get put in the machine (like my favorite rice pot; I only have the one, and what if I need it before the next time I run a load? which is likely since I eat rice every other day, and only run the dishwasher every 4th or 5th day!).

I about rolled on the floor laughing when I read this (in a public restaurant), but after sharing experiences with my brother and a Filipina friend, I realize that some of the laughter is about feeling like a legitimate member of a subculture... a validation of my personal experience... and another identity piece, I suppose!

Reemergence by the Room

If my sewing studio is "my little girl's" room...


...then our library is "my little boy's" room.




In fact, each room in the house tells a story of a different expression of myself.

The living room was about nervously shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath and splashing the walls with a bold burnt orange. Scott was traveling, and it was the first big house project I'd undertaken myself, with the help of three good girlfriends. It was also my first foray into Color; in every house before this we were concerned about resale value, so the walls were bland and neutral (if that's not a metaphor...!).

About this time I joined Southern Living At HOME, and found that far from being decorating challenged, I could envision and install accessories in the house. Not only that, but I could change my mind and move them around!

Next I became experimental, using the bedroom closet to try on even bolder colors and faux finish techniques. Here I learned that if I made a decision and stuck with it, even Scott would support (and begrudgingly admire) me. I used the same stippling technique in the dining room to add "brass mesh" (a mustard gold) over the pale yellow I'd put there before. In this room I also discovered perseverence and physical limits; because of my lymphedema and tendonitis, I could only work a two-hour patch at a time. It took me six weeks to finish, and you can read the story of my improving technique in the pattern of paint as it changes across the room!

I'd been waiting four years to design a room around a favorite quilt, and we did that in our master bedroom. Curiously, both of us agreed on olive green for the walls, which was strange in that it was a last-minute inspiration (thanks to my friend Gabby) and had not been among the colors we considered for weeks beforehand. My intention was a romantic retreat, and (except for persistent piles of laundry) we accomplished that with Klimt's "The Kiss" and candle sconces on the walls, and beautiful furniture (not the "assembly required" kind!) which--amazingly--we both suddenly agreed on after a long search. So I guess that room was about our coming together... how appropriate.

My sewing studio I covered in lime green paint and filled with tulip-sprinkled curtains hung from honey-bee hooks, pink polka-dotted ruffles and all the things I disdained as a little girl, most of which I made myself! I struggled with making it so different from the rest of the house, but am glad I did. I refused to let Scott re-hang the old vertical blinds and it's the brightest, sunniest and happiest room in the house. The window faces east and I like to sit there in the mornings. I call it "my little girl's" room.

Which brings us to the presnt day, and our library/office. In our last three houses this room was to have had a celestial/space theme, but we always carried it out in a very adult and reserved way. This time it's full-on fun! Scott and I made a good team, compromising on color, furniture layout, and most of all de-cluttering. Since our move to this 1300 square foot box we've had to sort and discard little pieces of our lives, but it was half-hearted compared to the purge we gave this room. More than a sense of loss, I feel relief and some power in finally getting control.

So this morning I'm sitting curled up in the antique platform rocker, gazing at the ships suspended from the ceiling, and realizing that this is "my little boy's" room; and how after four years, I finally live in a space that can change and grow and reflect me, and not some model home or college apartment!

Oh No, A Broken Toe!

Poor Arrow! Found her limping on Tuesday evening and doing the "Lassie-foot" thing by Wednesday. Got her to the vet's this morning, where an x-ray revealed a broken toe! So it's two weeks of crate rest and Carprofen, then another x-ray. And this on the heels of all that crate rest and leash-walking and elizabethan-collar-wearing after her surgery! Dr. S. gave us three possible causes for the fracture: infection (no evidence of that); trauma (although we didn't observe it); and cancer in the bone, which would weaken it. I'm just not going to commit to the last emotionally. I'm okay with not knowing the cause of the break, as long as it heals up, or until we have more information.

One nice confidence-booster for me: the problem was in the toe that I had narrowed it down to myself on Tuesday!