Tacky

Yesterday, I learned that tacks are a pain in the butt, and I wondered what possessed the makers of the magnetic screen door that I purchased to make them use tacks instead of nails.

See, I've been getting outside to go on runs regularly the last few weeks, and when the weather has been nice, I've seen people with those magnetic screen doors. And I thought, wouldn't that be a cool thing to have? Literally, in some cases, in that it would actually help us cool our living space.

And so, I brought the idea to my husband. Great idea, said he. Go for it.

When the item arrived in the mail, I was "at work" so I didn't take it out until dinner time. I started to mess with it, but then realized I really should eat dinner first. So I ate. Then I went back to the magnetic screen door and fiddled and measured and tacked it to the right length for my door. That wasn't too bad, but it was a bit of a pain to shove the tacks through the polyester borders and velcro.

No, where the true evil of tacks lie is with the placement and pushing. I broke about a dozen tacks as I learned what I needed to do in terms of pressure with the hammer and positioning both on the frame in terms of the tack and angle of attack in terms of the hammer. I was dripping sweat, still wearing my work clothes because I had to actually leave the house around 6:30. I was grumbling and a bit miffed that Ambrose hadn't volunteered to help me out. Though now I completely understand and will employ the same tactics in the future, should I ever be in his position with someone uninitiated to the joys of tacks.

Nature Cure

Usually, my husband and I don't go out into the woods until May. Often, we don't head out until Memorial Day weekend. But in the last few years, we've headed out earlier, because we both get to the point that if we don't, we'll go a little nuts.

This year, that 'going a little nuts' thing is happening earlier in the spring due to the whole stay at home order and my working from home and Ambrose not being able to go to the gym. I like where I live, but I do miss having more than one room. Okay, technically, there's the bathroom; it has a door and I could shut myself in there, but it's not the same!

On Monday night, I learned that I would be required to take furlough days at work. I think the way they're doing it is pretty fair, requiring a set number of days from employees based on their salary, and not requiring any furlough days from employees making less than a set amount. On Tuesday morning, I was starting to freak out quite a bit, and Ambrose suggested that I take the afternoon off of work so we could drive out to the woods and see if we might camp out this weekend.

So I did.

We drove out to make sure that we could, that the road was in good enough repair for our Ford Focus to handle. And we drove out to get a dose of the nature cure that we both sorely needed.

About halfway to Twin Springs, I had a thought. There's a small hot spring on this road; not an official one, just a roadside park and soak kind of thing. I said we should go there and see if it's empty, and if it was, we should go and soak a bit. I hadn't brought a towel or a bathing suit, but my underwear would do and we had a small towel in the car.

We were able to drive all the way out to that hot spring, and no one was there. This hot spring is, to me, quite magical. It's practically a fairy grotto, with an overhanging ledge that drips water (hot and cold) into the pool, flowers and vines growing up the sides. And I adore hot springs. I was so overcome with emotion when I got in that I started crying. I was laughing, crying and grinning all at the same time.

Ambrose didn't get in the water with me, but he did sit near the pool. We chatted a bit, but I mostly just reveled in the heat of the water and the beauty of the scenery. I thought about something that Ambrose said to me when we had a bit of a fight. He asked why I couldn't just stop worrying so much, or something to that effect. To me, worrying is a part of who I am as a person. And that attitude tells me that the worry-monster has integrated into my psyche on a deep level.

We didn't stay too long at the hot spring. It wouldn't be fair to linger when only one group could responsibly use the area at a time. We didn't drive home yet though. We just went up the road a bit and found a spot to stop and relax next to the river. I spent some time alone, my body stretched out on the earth, feeling the breeze on my skin, mostly cool, but occasionally chilly. The warmth of the sun. The intense pine scent from the tree I was under. Rustling of wind blown branches. Water flowing along.

I asked myself what would happen if I stopped worrying so much. And the answer is that I can't know unless I try. So, I'm going to try. I'm going to try to let go of the worry habit. For all I know, it will help me lose weight. It will probably reduce the number of headaches that I get. And it could even have an effect on my digestive issues. All I have to do is learn to let go of something that I've been doing for as long as I can remember.

Ducks and More

My brain doesn't want to write a blog post. Instead, enjoy these pictures of my new co-workers in the era of work from home.

Emotional Rollercoaster

I think the earthquake was, in many ways, the last straw for me, emotionally speaking. Not only was I working from home in the midst of a pandemic, but the earth itself was shaking. Solid ground is supposed to be solid!

On Thursday, I started getting a headache, and I could feel that it was from tension being held in my body, especially neck and shoulders. I was trying to hold it together. To just keep working like things were normal. But they are not normal. No, not even "new" normal. I heard someone say "normal for now" recently and I like that concept. This is not how things are going to be - we don't know how things are going to be. But staying inside and working out via Zoom and working from home is the normal right now - the now normal.

And on Thursday, my normal was to have a crying fit. I went out looking for something and it wasn't there, because I was too late. And that upset me beyond all reason or rationality. I started crying while driving home and when I got home I pretty much strangled a pillow so I could cry into it and scream into it and just release all the pent up feelings that I've been trying to ignore since this whole situation got real.

It's weird to have this feeling of instability, but also not to feel that I, personally, am in immediate danger. Even during the earthquake, because it was so mild, I didn't feel endangered. But I don't know if my job will still be a job in a year. Probably it will, I have good odds on that, but I never expected I'd be working from home a year ago, so I can't really count on it. I know I'm lucky to have a job right now, and one that allows me to continue to work from home.

The headache hung around until Sunday. Saturday was especially bad; it seemed like nothing I did was having any effect on it. I spent the weekend trying to get myself to stop stressing out with mixed success. The headache did go away, but I can feel that my neck is tight. The kind of tight that really lends itself to headaches.

I am keeping up with exercise, which helps. Work is going well, even with the complications of holding all meetings virtually. And with internet getting wonky with all the people using it. I have a sneaking suspicion a lot of people in Boise are in virtual meetings on Monday mornings. . .

First Earthquake

I've never lived in an area that expects earthquakes. I grew up in Illinois, where we were much more concerned about tornadoes. I've lived in New Mexico, where drought was the primary concern. Now, I live in Idaho, where there typically aren't tornadoes or serious droughts or earthquakes. I mean, we're close enough to Yellowstone that if the supervolcano ever blows, we'll never even have a chance to respond to it, but you don't prepare for that.

While I've visited places that might expect earthquakes or tsunamis, I had never experienced an earthquake. Until last night. In Boise, ID.

It had been raining yesterday, so when I first heard/felt a kind of rumble, I thought it was thunder. But then the TV started swaying and my husband, who has lived in earthquake areas and lived through other earthquakes, told me to get up and open the door and stand in it. We stood in the doorway of our patio. Outside, we could see branches swaying in a nearby bush, but no large effects. I kept looking inside where our TV kept swaying and some fishing poles propped up in a corner were rattling.

It was both scary and less than I expected. Scary, because I'd never encountered an earthquake before and I didn't know what was coming next. Less than I expected because I've only ever seen earthquakes on TV or in the movies and this weird swaying was not very dramatic. (Thank goodness.)

The news was not quick to pinpoint exactly what was going on. We don't usually watch television news, but Ambrose decided we should check it out. They pretty much had the same information as we did, via Facebook, of lots of people reporting the tremor but no news on where the epicenter was or how deep (which was something Ambrose wanted to know).

Later, I found out that the epicenter was west of Challis, ID. I knew vaguely where that was, but looked it up on the maps to get a better idea. That's when I saw that the epicenter was actually quite close to places that I've hiked. It was within 4 or 5 miles of the Lola Creek Campground, and therefore also the Idaho Centennial Trail. Not too far from Stanley Lake.

Oh, and the epicenter itself was actually right next to a creek.

Shake Creek.

No joke.

Now I can no longer say I've never been in an earthquake. Check that one off the list. I just hope the aftershocks don't exceed the initial one. I've had my fill, thanks.