Monday, June 30, 2014

ACCOMPLISHED


There is nothing like spending a day working on a project and then sitting back and admiring what’s been accomplished. That’s what I’m doing right now…sitting at my computer typing this while looking out my sparkling clean garden window and enjoying how all the glass birds, apples, bowls, etc., gleam. Usually, this task is completed much earlier in the year, but somehow, dusting, washing, and polishing haven’t been high on my to-do list lately.

 I have so much glass I suppose I could spend most of my time just going through the house and keeping it dusted. It wasn’t my intention to become a glass collector. It all began with a beautiful blown glass bird. It was clear, tinged with blue, had silver dusted in its body and it was only $10. Suddenly, with the purchase of that one bird, I began to haunt a variety of antique malls, Goodwill, garage sales and various thrift stores. I didn’t go on the hunt just around home either, but tried to visit such places while out of town.

 Today, that first bird is no longer. Somehow, when cleaning, I managed to break off one of the wings and even though I glued it back together, it didn’t hold…still sad about that. I don’t know how many years I’ve been collecting, but I have two garden windows, each with two shelves and all are filled with glass. There is a flock of birds on one shelf while below, there are more than a dozen apples of all sizes and colors. Large and small hand-blown glass bowls sit in corners and against the back window. A large bowl holds a variety of glass fruit and adjacent are several heart-shaped candy dishes. There are other items including a piece that looks as though it was made by Dale Chihuly, a couple of very old candy jars that once graced some little store, rabbits, balls, and vases with glass flowers.

My glass isn’t limited to the garden windows, but graces almost all flat surfaces throughout the house. There’s an animal collection, lots of candle holders, a bowl with glass candy, picture frames and a variety of odds and ends that caught my fancy. There’s even a couple boxes of glass PartyLite candleholders in the attic because there’s not enough room.

 I did manage to turn my glass fascination into a money-making hobby.  At a craft show years ago, I saw glass towers made with bottles and a variety of other glass pieces. Once you glued them together, you stuck a stick through the mouth of the bottle and, voila, yard art. At a different craft show, I found flowers made with a wide variety of glass, i.e., plates, bowls, candle holders, glasses, vases, etc. At that point, I abandoned making towers and took up making flowers. For those, I frequented Goodwill, going on the days certain color tags were half off…hated spending more than $.50 for a piece of glass. Of course, in looking for glass for yard art, I also found other pieces to add to my collection.

 Last year was my final year to participate in the one craft show I did for quite a few years. I still have some glass flower stock, but the neighbors are going to be having a garage sale at some point this summer, so I’ll stick up a sign and hope to sell my remaining inventory. As for the remaining loose stock I haven’t used, it fits into three 10-ream paper boxes, and my son can take them away for his garage sale.

 Making yard art was great fun and I rather miss doing it this year, but not enough to open those three boxes and begin creating. I also miss visiting the various places for new stock, but I really don’t need any more glass of any size, style, shape or color…keeping what I already have clean and dust free is more than enough to make me accomplished.

Friday, June 27, 2014

ABUNDANCE


Today I went to Home Depot, Hobby Lobby and Costco. These warehouse stores continue to amaze me with both their size and contents, no matter how many times I visit. As I wandered about each one, looking for the items on my list, I wondered, as I always do, about how such places are stocked, who buys the wide variety of products, and whether there is really a need for so much stuff.

 At Home Depot, I wanted a few annuals for my garden; and I could see the huge inventory they had on hand a month or two ago had shrunk considerably. Where did all those baskets and wide variety of plants go? They  had undoubtedly been purchased by avid gardeners for their yards, gardens or decks; and yet, as I drive about various neighborhoods, there are a multitude of homes that do not exhibit new plantings and would even benefit from the use of a lawn mower. Imagine what kind of stock Home Depot would have to carry if every single home had new plantings every spring. And, that doesn’t take into account all the other stores and nurseries where one can purchase plants.

 Hobby Lobby makes my heart rate and respirations rise. I wonder if that happens to other people who shop there. I mean, really…fall, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas stock already out on the shelves. Who shops for those holidays in June? There must be people who do shop now, but I cannot imagine doing so. I marched myself by those shelves quite quickly.

 I’m not a frequent Hobby Lobby visitor and know I have to keep a tight hold on my imagination and desire or walk out with a seriously impacted debit or credit card. As it was, I bought more than the five small items (three of which I now know won’t work...oh no, a return visit) I wanted. How could I possibly pass up a gazing ball and stand for my garden when each one was 60% off…getting them for $10 each was a real steal, and I’ve always wanted one. Then there was the blown glass owl, marked down to $4.99…surely my glass bird collection will benefit from its addition. 

 These objects jumped into my arms as I walked about looking for the items I really wanted. I eventually found them, but by then my arms were so full I could barely manage to add them to the stuff I hadn’t gone in to purchase in the first place.  Thankfully, I hadn’t picked up a cart to wheel around and had to stop shopping because I could carry nothing else.

On to the Business Costco for milk, large bags of salad mix, bananas, and a watermelon. (I’ve never ever bought a bad watermelon at Costco…how do they do that? Now, I’ve probably jinxed the one in the fridge.) Of course I remembered I needed chicken breasts and a few other items that weren’t on the original list. Still, I managed to get out of there for less than $75. Shopping at the Business Costco allows me to spend way less because it doesn’t have a bakery, flowers, special items, clothes, drug store, books, magazines, etc.). Of course, much of what you can buy there comes in the largest economy size possible. It even carries frozen lamb carcasses, and I’ve always wondered if these ever sell. They must or Costco wouldn’t carry them; and yet, I’ve never seen anyone add an entire lamb to their basket.

 All in all, I didn’t actually buy all that much stuff today or spend a lot of money. It’s probably thousands and thousands of people like me who shop as I did today that keep the stock in these warehouse stores moving. Still, I know that no matter how many times I visit these places, I’ll continue to be amazed at the abundance each one provides as well as wonder how or why we need the opportunity to choose from so much stuff.

 

Thursday, June 26, 2014

BLOG NAME CHANGE


Once again, I’ve decided to change the name of my blog. I think the name of my first blog which had only one post was, “Countdown to Retirement.” The second one which had maybe two posts was called, “Born in a Shack.” The most recent one to which I tried to blog often was called, “Retirement: Blessing or Curse.” Now, I’ve moved on to, “Paula’s Passionate (or not) Pursuits.”

 The first blog was going to record my getting ready to retire…couldn’t find the time to keep it up. The second and third blog names were ones I came up with in a class I was taking earlier this year, but neither one really seemed to speak to what I was attempting to do.

 And, what are you trying to do you ask (I hope, anyway)?  I am trying to write every day if possible, providing I have an idea for something I want to write about. I don’t want to write about how my day went, what I did or anything mundane…is this mundane??? I want to write about topics that excite me, move me, or about which I feel I actually have something to say. I even have a sort of goal with regard to my blog posts.

 And, what is your goal you ask (I hope)? My goal or hope is that eventually, there will be folks out there in Blogland who actually want to read the words I post about the topics I choose. Even better would be if those folks in Blogland were to comment (Look for the POST A COMMENT at the end of the post and click on it) and leave their ideas or opinions about what I’ve had to say.

One of the curses of retirement is that you lose a huge circle of co-workers who enrich your days by interacting with you. By blogging, I’m hoping to gain a circle of fellow bloggers (or friends who like to read my blog) who think my blogging enriches their days and in turn, want to enrich my days with their blog interactions.

 Hopefully, my passionate pursuits will be of interest to folks. Right now, I’m passionate about the name change and about writing and posting every single day. Who knows what topic I’ll be passionate about tomorrow…it’s my hope you’ll check back and see…and comment.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

You Choose!


Research has apparently shown that the brain is hardwired to remember negative interactions, but it’s possible for the higher regions of the brain to modify how the lower regions function. This means we can use our intention and attention in sustained and focused ways to overcome the brain’s negative prejudice. One can, in fact, make a conscious choice to be happy.

It was nice to hear about this research because it supports a decision I wish I had made at the beginning of my life as opposed to waiting until it was more than half over. In 2000, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It wasn’t supposed to be anything major because it was so tiny. Unfortunately, the results of tissue tests showed that more than one-third of the cells were replicating at any one time…very aggressive. So, instead of a bit of radiation, I got to have the entire breast cancer experience…eight rounds of chemotherapy, 33 days of directed radiation, and five years of Tamoxifen.

One thing I noticed during the nine months of treatment was the comment friends, family and co-workers made…”You have such a positive attitude.”  I didn’t feel as though I actually had a choice about my attitude. I had to be up, positive, cheerful, etc., because I believed I didn’t actually have another choice. A good attitude was an essential part of my treatment, plus I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me or to share any negativity with me. I did have the occasional pity party, but I kept them very small and very private.

What I learned during this time was that each morning when I got out of bed and looked in the mirror, I made a conscious choice to have a good day whether I was at work, had the day off or was being infused with the wonderful poisons that were eliminating any remaining aggressive cancer cells. Once I completed chemotherapy and radiation, my brain returned to the habits it cultivated for most of my life…negativity. This did not make me at all happy, and I decided to do something about it.

I made up a bunch of sticky notes that I posted around the house, in my car and at work. Each one said, YOU CHOOSE! No one else understood why those two words were so important to me, but when I woke up, I saw the post-it. When I brushed my teeth, I saw the post-it. When I drove the car, I saw the post-it. Before I turned my computer on at work, I saw the post-it. So, no matter what was going on at home, at work, or driving down the road, I was reminded that I was choosing how I felt about whatever was going on. The upper regions of my brain were imposing my intentions and attentions on my brain’s lower regions and I was a happier person for it.  

Then, I took it even a little further. I looked at all the people I knew and began to avoid those that were entire islands of negativity. These were the people whose brains were so hardwired toward negativity, there wasn’t even a tiny bit of room for something positive. I cut my news gathering to almost nothing. Just the headlines that zipped by at the bottom of the screen on the morning news were more than enough…I didn’t need an in-depth look at why some crazy person had performed some abominable and horrific act.

It’s been a long time since 2001 when I began my “You Choose” campaign for myself, and I like to think it has been more successful than not. True, there are days when I choose to ignore the upper regions of my brain and wallow in negativity; but it really isn’t any fun and doesn’t feel very good at all, so those wallows don’t last very long. Most days, I get up and consciously choose to have a good day, and if something negative comes my way I refuse to give it my attention. I choose to be happy!

Thursday, June 19, 2014

She Walks to the Beat of Her Own Drummer


Yesterday, my 12-year-old granddaughter, Haley, graduated from the sixth grade, and she did it her way. Like her father before her, she walks to the beat of her own drummer, and I admire and appreciate how difficult that can be no matter your age or size…Haley is now 5 feet 8 inches tall.

All the sixth graders were invited to dress up, i.e., the boys in slacks and shirts or suits and the girls in dresses. Haley went through a girlie-girlie phase some time ago, a phase I quite enjoyed and appreciated. Having raised two sons, it was great fun to shop for dresses and shoes in pinks and purples. Just a couple of years ago, I can remember her pleading and begging me to buy her these six-inch blue heels that would match her dress perfectly (Nana didn’t succumb and purchase those shoes).

Now, the very idea of having to wear a dress is anathema as far as Haley is concerned, and her favorite shoes are high-tops. Her color of choice is black, and she loves to wear what she calls beanies (I knew them as stocking caps) which stay on her head as if glued in place. So, I knew not to look for my girl in a dress and heels. (Some girls wore strapless dresses…at 8:00 am, what could their mothers have been thinking?) Haley wore yellow high-tops, black jeans, a black blouse instead of a t-shirt, and her dark brown leather coat. Her one concession besides the blouse was to not wear a beanie.

At the end of the program, the principal announced the sixth graders would dance their way out of the gym. And, they did…some danced and twirled, moon walked, ran, tripped, fell, gave each other piggy back rides and some even just walked. I kept waiting for Haley to dance down the aisle, but she seemed to be at the back of the pack. Finally, there she was, the last sixth grader to leave. She walked forward, put down the skateboard she'd been holding at her side, hopped on and skateboarded down the aisle and out of the gym. I was surprised, amazed and very proud of her.

At the reception for the sixth graders and their parents/grandparents, I was talking to her teacher when she came up and informed him she would be taking honors humanities (whatever that is) next year. He said something to the effect that he’d told her she should sign up for that class. She responded that she hadn’t, but they’d put her in there anyway, and he said it had to be because her grades were so good. I already knew she had signed up for honors math, so this was another indication Haley is far smarter going into the seventh grade than I (or her father) ever was.

I look forward to watching Haley evolve as time goes by. At some point, I’m sure her personal drummer will tap out a new tune and she’ll want to go shopping with Nana for a dress for some special occasion. I look forward to sharing that experience with her; and who knows, perhaps Nana will agree to stilettos when that time comes.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

THERE AIN’T GONNA BE A MISTAKE!


Well, all my reservations and misgivings about adding a new dog to the family were for naught.  Took John to breakfast and then out to PAWS in Lynnwood. Unfortunately, I hadn’t checked the operating hours, so we arrived at 11:45 am…PAWS opened at 12:00 noon. Not that long to wait, we could sit comfortably in the car while the time passed.

But, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, that wasn’t going to happen. John wanted to be taken home NOW!!! I managed to wait it out for about five minutes and then gave in, backed up and drove home. Among his several polite requests to go home, he also said he wasn’t ready for a dog. Well, the truth of the matter is, I guess, that John probably will never ever be ready for a dog again (and that makes me so very sad).


 I have to admit that I was quite pissed off at the time that John wouldn’t fall in with my plans. It was a surprise FOR HIM, for God’s sake. For his birthday, no less. I mean, really, I had anguished over the decision to get a dog and finally decided it would be for the best FOR HIM (And, yes, the caps mean I’m shouting.) if we had a dog.


 On the other hand, perhaps John’s desire not to look at dogs and add one to the family is because he actually thinks/believes it would be too much extra work or effort. Perhaps refusing to go inside PAWS was his way of telling me he simply cannot add one more responsibility, no matter how fun or loving, to his plate. If that’s the case, then I certainly shouldn’t be pissed off; rather, I should be patient, understanding and supportive.


 Still, it’s hard to be patient, understanding and supportive when I’m left to wonder (some more) just how bad is John’s health really. Have his comments about death and not being here much longer been valid or is he just feeling depressed and sorry for himself? I honestly don’t know because John doesn’t care to discuss his health with me; and, of course, his MD won’t tell me anything without John’s permission. The dog idea was in the hope it would make him feel better, make him get better, but perhaps getting better isn't an option.


 Recently I talked with a 90-year-old woman whose 90-year-old husband is now aging more quickly than she. They’ve been married forever, and she told me that it is and can be very difficult to see, experience, watch your spouse decline. She told me, “You can only do what you can do.” And, looking back on today, she’s right, I can only do what I can do. I provided John with a chance to bring a dog, a new best friend, into his life and his choice was to not. Yes, I did what I could, but that doesn't keep me from wishing there was some kind of birthday present I could provide that would make him feel/be better. Guess I'll have to settle for watching him eat prime rib at the Black Angus tonight...that I know will make him happy.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Do I really Want A New Family Member?


John and I have been married for almost 48 years and for the majority of those years, we have always had a dog. Our fourth dog, Mia Pia (Pain In Ass) joined her predecessors under the apple tree last October. We have been dogless and have missed having a dog since then

Mia was our “final dog.”  After all, we’re getting older. Who knows what the future holds? Training a puppy can be difficult and exhausting. There are plenty more reasons to keep our household to two very independent (as in neither one will sit on your lap) cats and three chickens. Last October I took that decision to heart. I had all the rugs taken out and cleaned and scrubbed everything while they were gone to eliminate all a dog lived here evidence (although anyone whose ever had a dog knows that’s completely impossible).

Now, however, I’m wondering if I should take my husband to PAWS for his birthday tomorrow and get him/us a new dog. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to go there because it truly is getting more difficult for John to get around, and I think the bulk of the care…but not the loving…would fall to me. On the other hand, a  new dog (not necessarily a puppy) may be just what John needs to snap him out of whatever he’s been going through lately.

As I said, it’s getting more and more difficult for him to get around, but in the past he hasn’t seemed to dwell on the fact that he, to use his words, “might not be here much longer.” Perhaps a new furry friend might perk him up and make him look forward to being here a lot longer than he currently seems to anticipate.

Today I had coffee/tea with three of my neighbors, all of whom know John. I asked them to talk me out of this idea, but they were not the least bit cooperative. Instead, they thought it was a fine idea, talked about how John had more of a neighborhood presence when Mia was here and could be outside with him. It might be just exactly what he needs they said and reinforced this insane (to me) idea.

So tomorrow morning I’ll go to our granddaughter’s graduation from elementary school…I watched her get on the bus for her first day of kindergarten…so I want to be there for this too. Tonight I told John that after Haley’s graduation I’ll return home and he should be ready to leave the house because there’s a birthday surprise waiting. If all goes well, I guess Dog #5 might be our new family member, and I’ve already got a name for her…Mistake or Missy/Mister for short.

Monday, June 16, 2014

A BLOG IS A BLOG IS A BLOG?


As mentioned in my profile, I began a blog several years ago, made one post and quit. With this blog, I did much better…for a while. The problem is, I think, the title of my blog. So many topics I want to write about really have nothing to do with retirement or with it being a blessing or a curse.  

So, I’m a bit stumped when it comes to how I should handle this. I’d like to have a catchy blog title that would encourage people to read me. I’d like to have a blog title that would allow me to write about any subject that comes to mind. Is it possible to change the title of my current blog, or do I need to begin a new blog?
What kind of name should I choose in either case? I’d like it to be clever, interesting, fun, and allow me to be free to be me. 
 

Let’s see:  Musings From My Mind?  Daily Muse on my Shoulder? Free to be Me (bet that one’s taken)? With Love From Nana (in the hope my grandchildren benefit from whatever I blog)? Nana’s Natterings? Nana’s Chinwag? Paula’s Prattlings? Rabbit On About Nothing?  

So, would any of these pique your interest? Maybe not the Nana ones since readers might think I’m just an old lady rambling on about whatever (that may be true, but I’d like readers to read me before they make that decision). Paula’s Prattlings sounds okay and people might read just to see what I’m prattling about. The rabbit one might draw in rabbit lovers, but what about everyone else? 

Then, of course, once I’ve decided to change my blog name or create a new one, there’s the question of setting it up. I’ve used Blogspot for this one and the ones prior, but have an awful time getting the site to cooperate and allow me to design my blog the way I want, incorporate pictures and a bunch of other stuff I’d like to include that I see on other blogs. Maybe I should try Wordpress? Maybe I should get my own web site? Maybe I should just prattle on about stuff on my computer and not even consider sharing it with anyone, let alone the world should my blog become popular. I’d also like to know what I need to do to make my blog, whatever it becomes, popular. 

For now, I think I’ll post this on my current blog and see if anyone wants to comment or offer advice. It’s so discouraging when I check back to see that my post had no comments. I keep hoping someone will read it and be absolutely amazed or inspired to make a comment. Perhaps asking for advice on where to and how to blog on will result in some feedback…I’m certainly hoping so.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Happy Father's Day Daddy!

My dad came into my life when I was two years and 8 months old. It is, I think, just about the first memory in my storage bank and one I treasure still.


My mom was a widow and she and my grandma moved with me from Tennessee to Idaho when I was a year old because that's where two of her brothers were living at the time. I don't remember riding the train, or a lot about anything that happened before I met my dad. I do remember the little shack we lived in before he joined us, especially the bathroom, but that's a tale for another day.


Anyway, there we were, me and Grandma, just hanging out, maybe reading a book. The room was dimly lit by an oil lamp, sparsely furnished and Grandma was sitting on a wooden chair. The door opened and my mother came in, followed by someone I'd never seen before. I scurried behind Grandma, shyly peeking around her at this new person.


My mother smiled and said, "Don't be scared, Paula. This is your new daddy."


And, there he was, right up beside her in the room with a big smile on his face. He looked all friendly and nice; and while I don't remember my response to him at that time, he was the best daddy my mom could possibly have found. Never once did I ever doubt that daddy loved me, even when mom gave him a son and daughter. He always made me feel special, called me, "Little One," and believed I was capable of accomplishing anything I set out to achieve.


Daddy left me after 30 years, dying of a brain tumor 18 days before my 32nd birthday. But, 30 years, three decades, is a lot of time and it is chock full of memories I cherish. I could probably type for hours and still not provide a title for all the slides in my personal PowerPoint. We danced...my small feet on his when I was very small and again at my wedding. We camped and fished...caught my first catfish on Lake Pend Orielle even though daddy had to bait the hook and take the fish off...and continued to do so when my husband joined the family. We laughed and commiserated as a family around the dinner table...a practice I brought to my own marriage and family. We shared joys and sorrows...memories of those still have the power to make me smile, laugh or even cry.


I so wish I could have had daddy in my life for another 30, 40 or even 50 years. I wish he could have seen his first grandson, whom he loved dearly, grow up to be the wonderful, compassionate and beautiful man he is now, a father in his own right. I wish my younger son could have experienced that special grandpa-grandson bond that so enriched his older brother's life...I feel as though he was cheated of something very special.


And, as long as I'm wishing, I wish I could, just once more, hear daddy's voice call me "Little One." No one has called me that since I was 32 and I miss it...I miss him...still. Happy Father's Day Daddy, and thank you for my life and all the wonderful memories.