Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Presenting

What happens when one sends home baked goods to a sibling who is also a chef? 

That is the question that I accidentally answered this Christmas, when I decided to send some home baked kolaches to my brother. I hadn't ever sent them to him before, because I was of the opinion that the cookies were so easily available to him in Chicago that it would be silly to send him any. 

But it as Christmas and there were no parties due to covid. So, rather than cancel kolaches altogether this year, I decided to make a batch and send them off to my brother (and dad and one other lucky person). That would allow me to then eat some myself! 

After all, the whole reason I started making them was so that I could eat them. If I were in Chicago, then I would never have tried to bake them, because I would have just gone to the grocery store and bought them whenever I wanted them. 

The cookies themselves are not super hard to make. Involved, yes. A little complicated, but not that difficult. I hoped that the strawberry habenero jelly that I used would at least provide something a little different, a sweet heat treat. 

What I got was an immediate demand for recipe from my brother's girlfriend. A subsequent urgent demand from my brother for the recipe. Then lots of pictures of him trying the recipe. He became (his word) obsessed. 

So while I didn't explicitly give my brother a Christmas gift this year, I now feel like I accidentally gave him a cookie to bake. 

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Unpack That

It was in 2006, I believe, that I was last at my childhood home with my own vehicle. My mother was always a bit of a pack rat (and I've taken after her there), and I wanted to take some things back to Idaho with me. Old school papers and such. Photos. I found a big plastic bin, and I shoved a bunch of papers into it, most of which were related to me, and loose photos. 

Over the years, and several moves, I've kept that bin. I rarely looked at the papers. Mostly, I would delve into it when I wanted pictures of my family. 

After my mom died last month, I went through the bin, paper by paper. I got to see things that she had touched, that she had chosen to save, that she had written. I was struck again by how similar my handwriting is to how hers used to be. 

It was as if I knew, somehow, that I wouldn't be able to go back to Illinois when she passed. And that I'd want, even need, something to help me connect and process. 

I'm still processing. Still reeling. Still considering what this all means. I've been thinking about the songs that I wrote after Chris Hill died. Some of the papers in the bin were of more recent vintage, things that I'd saved from college, and that included a list of those songs. But not all the lyrics, which I'm not sure I still have saved anywhere. 

Maybe I'll rewrite them, once I figure out how to play guitar accompaniment to them the melodies that I still recall and the choruses that are mostly still there. I think about recording the songs and posting them somewhere, but then I get this paranoid feeling that everything I've thought or written has already been thought or written before, that if I like the songs, then I must surely have copied them from something I heard. 

The physical bin that I unpacked and sorted is not the only bin being unpacked and sorted in my head right now. 

Wednesday, December 16, 2020

Jots and Tittles

I was already going a bit slower than normal this year in writing my book. My mom dying threw me for a loop, and I'm no longer expecting myself to publish before the end of the year. I want this book to be better than the ones before it, so I'm asking for criticism from my first reader that will help me make the book interesting to read. So far, he's giving that for sure. 

It won't be the first time that I've had to publish a year's book the following calendar year. It probably won't be the last. Life doesn't always give us what we expect. If 2020 has emphasized one life lesson, that would probably be it. We never know what the future might hold, whether in the next year, the next month or the next day. 

I'm finding it difficult to focus, and it's taking a lot of energy to keep up with my day job. I'm also putting a lot of energy into working out. Working out is good for me in many ways, but I also need to be careful about pushing my body too hard, because I am, at least in part, using exercise as a stress reliever. And I've got a lot to work through. 

Once I do finish my solo book, I want to update my trail guides. Then there's a kind of self-help and/or philosophy book that's tumbling about in my head. I don't know if I'm going to write it next or if I'm going to need more before I get to a place where I can. It depends on my confidence level at any particular moment. Do I feel like these ideas are important and that I can state them better than they might have been before? Or do I feel like these ideas are stupid and/or have already been written to death and/or I'm certainly not the best person to do the presenting of these ideas? 

I'm not sure how many of my ideas might have been written about before, because I'm still at the idea stage. I want to actually do some writing before doing any research. Otherwise, I'll be influenced by the reading of others' interpretations instead of presenting my own. But I have been thinking of revisiting some philosophy from college, specifically the book I wrote my senior essay on, Leibniz' Principles of Nature and Grace. If that book has influenced my ideas, then they're already influenced since I read it, thoroughly, before. 

My boss at work keeps reminding everyone looking forward to 2021 that nothing is going to magically change on January 1 (covid will still be here, etc...). It really annoys me when he does that, because when I bring that up, I'm trying to look at moving forward with a different attitude, internally. People want, perhaps need, milestones in their lives. Routine. Organization. Our calendar is designed to give us that. We get new weeks, new months and new years, all excellent inflection points, just waiting for someone to take advantage of them. I know that outside circumstances on January 1 will closely resemble those of December 31. But I can hope that attitudes can change. My own, if no one else's. 

Wednesday, December 9, 2020

The Hybrid Way

Back in March, we went remote from work pretty quickly, rather all at once. There were hesitations in the administration, but they did eventually cave to the push. Throughout the summer, I worked remotely because I had to. I wanted to be at the office, in large part because my living space is a studio apartment and my husband is home all day. 

In August, I got my wish. I was allowed to return since there was space enough for me to be socially distanced without impacting anyone who needed to be there for business purposes. While my work is more efficiently done in the office due to better internet and desk accommodations, it can be done remotely, business-wise. 

Another reason to be in office was so that I could use the Rec Center during the workday, but I quickly learned that when I went there, I'd come home with a cold. And it was probably in small part due to the fact that the showers were unable to provide hot water. Yeah, I'm not into cold showers post-workout. I balk at cool showers, heck, I balk at lukewarm showers. That wasn't cutting it. 

So, I requested and received permission to shift to a hybrid schedule that sees me in office 3 days a week and working from home 2. I'm liking the variety this schedule presents. And I really like being able to use my exercise release time from home, where I know the showers will be hot. Especially since that exercise is running outside in 30 degree weather... 

I find myself trying to imagine what it's going to be like after Covid. Will we actually all go back to the office? Will people shake hands again? Or will we never have an after Covid because not enough people take the vaccine? I could never have imagined a year ago that the changes that Covid has wrought would happen. So how can I possibly imagine what will happen in the future now? Before, I kind of expected that things would continue to be how they were, in general. Now, I'm not so sure. 

If you had told me a year ago that my entire department would go remote, I wouldn't have been able to guess why. This hybrid schedule is working well for me now. 

But who knows what the future will bring? 

Wednesday, December 2, 2020

Forgiveness

I am not the kind of worker who commonly makes mistakes. But the last couple weeks, I've been making a quite few at work. I forget things. I start to ramble. I click the clicks that shouldn't be clicked and forget to click the clicks that should!

I've also gained some weight. I've kept up, mostly, with exercise, but my diet has not been the best. Especially all the booze. Yeah, it was probably mostly the liquor. Mostly. 

And, for the first time in a long time, I snapped at my husband for pretty much no reason at all. I mean, there was an action on his part that caused my snapping, but his action was pretty irrelevant to my reaction. He could have said just about anything in that moment and I would have snapped. 

So, my mom died. 

Something that still feels slightly unreal, tinged with the hallmarks of a half-remembered dream. 

It doesn't matter what my relationship was with her at the end. She was still my mom. And I have good memories and bad. 

I am mourning. 

And I'm going to have to forgive myself for the mistakes I've made and will make as I go through this process. 

Berating myself for these mistakes is only going to add to the stress and the sorrow, and I don't like the way that makes me feel. 

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

The End

 My mother had already passed away before last week's post posted, but I didn't know that when I wrote it up. It was just a coincidence that I wrote about her for my weekly Wednesday post and then she passed on that very Wednesday morning in the dark hours before dawn. 

I am happy that she is no longer suffering. 

I am sad that, in many ways, I never got to know her. I feel like I never got to meet the woman my dad married, at least, not as an adult. I knew that woman only as a child, and the memories are hard to dig out. 

She was ill my entire life. 

But that's my story, not hers. 

I don't know if I'm qualified to tell her story. I'm probably not. 

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

What It Is

Her eyes are blue like the Pacific Ocean, in the morning before the mists have been burned off by the sun, a moody, windswept blue, that, like the ocean, doesn't see me. 

Her hair is longer than I've seen it in decades, but unkempt, gray, though not ugly. A cozy, grandmotherly kind of hair.  

She is supine, in a hospital style cot that's been set up on the main floor of the house I grew up in for several years now. She's bundled up, but still looks cold. A blanket, crocheted I think, rests across her shoulders, and she pulls a bright orange corner into her mouth and chews as if by habit. I wonder when she developed pica. 

"Hi Mom. It's your daughter." I wave to her on the screen, but the internet connection isn't great on either end, and I have no idea if the image is coming through with any clarity. I just know her blue eyes don't focus anywhere near me, staring mostly straight up - at the ceiling, or at something only she can perceive?

I'm not really there, after all. She never learned how to use the internet, let alone a smartphone. How can she be expected to comprehend the little box in my brother's hand with my face on it? My voice must come out of nowhere for her, but she doesn't recognize it. I speak, but she doesn't seem to register or respond to me. She responds to the people in the room, but only sometimes. 

Other times she responds to something none of the rest of us can see or hear. 

"I hate this," she says, her voice a low mumble that drops more often than not into inaudibility, incomprehensibility. 

That, I can empathize with. Unable to move, hardly able to think or speak... It is a cruel and unusual punishment that no one deserves. 

"I love you, Mom," I say, trying to smile for her, trying to let her understand that I am with her as best as I can be. 

"What are you doing to me?" she asks my brother. 

He reassures her that he's just leaning on her pillow, or touching her hand. 

I want to be there for him, and for my dad. I don't know that she would even realize I was there if I went. If I went, it wouldn't be for her sake - or mine. 

If I went, I'd be leaving the frying pan for the fire, when it comes to rates of infection. I'd have to quarantine upon arrival and quarantine upon return - not to mention flying in an enclosed metal tube for several hours with a planeful of strangers. 

Not going is the logical choice. 

I hate this. 

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Bits and Pieces

The election is over but for the shouting. 

I'm relieved at the result, but also aghast at the number of people who thought that the incumbent deserved a second term, especially after the non-handling of the pandemic. 

I had an IBS flare up that coincided with my period and the election, and it's been slow to clear. 

On Sunday, I felt awful all day even though I wasn't exactly experiencing tummy issues. The tummy was there and hurting, but it wasn't the part that made it hard for me to write. My arms had trouble. Kind of. It's hard to describe. 

Sitting up and typing made my tummy feel worse. Lying down and typing was difficult because my arms kept losing tension. I typed a bit and then my arms would just be like, naw, give us a break and I'd let them go to my sides for a bit and then type again. 

Even if I propped my arms up so they weren't holding my hands in place, it was like just the typing itself was doing something that made it hard for me to hold them at the keyboard with sufficient tension to type. 

Am I just unused to being so unclenched? Have I been so tense over the last four years that the relief is affecting my physically in unexpected ways? Or is something wrong? 

My husband made chicken wings with bulgogi sauce over the weekend. I couldn't eat them on Friday or Saturday because I was doing a liquid diet to try and clear out the IBS attack. But on Sunday, I ate them, and they were so incredible that I cried after the first bite. He has set himself a high bar for Thanksgiving when he plans to give the same treatment to some Cornish hens. I look forward to the experiment, but have warned him about the height of that bar. 

I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Like something's wrong and I just don't know what it is yet. 

I just have to focus on not giving into that kind of despair. Focus on something else. I've set some high bars for exercise this month, and so far I'm meeting my goals, even though another cold set in. 

It snowed over the weekend, and I do love me some snow. 



Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Tummy Troubles

I didn't want to see someone new for my annual wellness exam, but my regular person was out on leave when I was supposed to get it done. So, new person to explain my diet to, knowing that they won't be able to help anymore than anyone else. I've reached a point of just experimenting with foods slowly and I know I'm not getting enough vegetables in my life, but the fiber still triggers gastroparesis pains/issues. 

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. This new person wasn't all that interested in me, and I didn't have to explain too much. Just that I'm doing the best that I can and exercising a lot and I'll just have to wait and see if my numbers are looking okay from the bloodwork. At this point, I'm assuming that they do look okay, because I have not been called back for a follow up, and they're usually pretty quick about that. 

I've been in a bit of an IBS flare for a couple weeks now. I can't seem to get out of it. My bowels are still moving, but I'm getting mucous coming out and hard stools. Plus nausea and gas and general tummy pain. The usual. 

I know that anxiety over the state of the world is contributing to the tummy issues. I need to figure out a way not to let that stress affect my tummy. Because I don't want anxiety to make my tummy hurt, which then makes me more anxious, which then makes my tummy hurt more etc... 

Maybe retreating to a cave for the next ten years would do the trick...

Since I can't do that (yet), I'm going to focus on what I can control. I will get my solo book written and published. I will exercise: CrossFit goal is 5 times a week, running goal is 3 times a week (1 can be a run/walk as long as there's elevation gain), and I decided to do Power Abs again for the month of November. I will do my job at work and keep getting paid. I might even write another book that's been percolating in my head since August - but solo first. Only got about 1000 words over last weekend. This weekend needs to be better. 

And it will be. 

Wednesday, October 28, 2020

Good News Bad News

With the gentle encouragement of my husband, I really pushed last Saturday to get writing done on my solo book. I managed to write over 6000 words in two long sessions, and I was ready to write more on Sunday and really make a dent in things. 

But I got sick. 

Again. 

It seems like every time I visit the Rec Center, I end up sick the next weekend. That interferes with my going to CrossFit, and getting into the office. So between that, and the fact that Rec can no longer guarantee me hot water for showers, I'm going to be discontinuing my visits there until further notice and do my running from home - because even if it's cold outside, I KNOW my shower has hot water ready and waiting for me when I'm done. 

So I spent all day Sunday out of commission, and then most of Monday. No fevers, so that's good, just general malaise and post-nasal drip. 

I am heartened though, by that good chunk of work last Saturday. I know I can write in big chunks like that, and it won't take too many of those long sessions to wrap up the writing portion of the book. I haven't reached out to the several people that I collected emails from this summer, though I finally did send one yesterday. 

I think one of my hesitations is that I sent emails to two folks that I met last year on the trail and never got replies, but all I can do is continue to try. I mean, I did collect more of those emails this year, so maybe my odds of getting a reply will improve - IF I send them! 

If not this weekend, then no later than next weekend, I should be done with the draft of the writing. Then it's time for Ambrose to do his read through, and I'm going to be a little more pushy on him about that. I want him to tell me where I can add more to make the scenes come alive, rather than just looking for typos and logical consistency. Then pictures and layout and before I know it, publishing. 

That's the plan!


Wednesday, October 21, 2020

State of the 2020 Solo Book

 I'm a bit late in writing up my solo trip this year. I've started later than this once before, and it just ends up delaying publication overall, because I use the winter break to write instead of to publish. I have started, and made some progress, but not nearly as much as I'd like. 

I know it's all about getting my butt in the chair and typing it out. And yet, somehow, I'm just not choosing that, again and again. I think part of it is that I'm pretty stressed at work. There is so much work to be done and more and more seems to pile up each day. I'm so far from being bored that I've forgotten what that feels like. 

I need to let that stress go. I need to just accept that things are going to be busy as all get out, and people are going to get impatient and think that they should be at the head of the line. I will make my assessment, do what I can in the time that I have, and go home and get my butt in the chair. 

If I can get in a good, full weekend of writing, I should be able to wrap this up before the end of the month, setting me up for a 2020 publication year if I keep the discipline of butt in chair up for the picture plates and publication tasks. 

Wednesday, October 14, 2020

The Little Victories - or - Not Today, Satan

The other night, I was lying down to sleep. I was all set. My night time routine had been completed, and I was ready to drift off. My mind slid through the trivia of the day and caught on an email that I'd reviewed just before the end of the work day. Caught and fastened on with a sudden, sharp spike of panic. 

See, I had read that email at the time, and sent a reassuring reply, but something was percolating through my mind. That something was the realization that if I didn't take care of a particular clean up task, I would be setting up our processing team for a WHOLE lot of work they shouldn't need to do. 

I'm not going to go into excruciating detail on what I had to do or why. That's not important. What's important is how I dealt with it. 

In the past, I might have leapt out of bed and headed to the computer to try to do damage control RIGHT NOW. Or I might have stayed in bed, but been unable to fall asleep, haunted by the error and afraid that I wouldn't remember to fix it in time when I woke up. 

Instead, I took a few minutes to embrace the panic. I asked myself how I could fix it. The first plan that came into my head was completely unworkable (editing a few hundred records one by one). The second plan would still leave some clean up to be done, but definitely reduce the immediate impact on the processors. 

So I reached over to my nightstand and pulled out the notebook a friend gave me. I flipped to the back, because I planned to tear the page out, and I wrote out my 4 step plan to fix the issue as best as I could. Then I tore the page out and went to the bathroom, where I folded it so it wrapped my Kindle. No way I'd miss that in the morning! 

Then, like a freaking miracle, I went back to bed and actually slept. 

I derailed the panic train before it could derail the sleeping train. After all, I like the sleeping train a lot better than the panic train - who doesn't? 

I had an opportunity to create a monster that would ruin my night's sleep and negatively affect me the rest of the next day. And I turned it down. Not this time, no thank you, been there, done that, threw away the t-shirt. 

I'm still not as good at falling asleep as my husband. But maybe I can learn. 

Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Developing Practice

 I'm not sure what I want to write about today. I've been feeling under the weather this past week; no fever, not much coughing, so I think it was just a cold, but there's always the paranoid thought of what if I caught COVID-19. My husband seemed to catch something similar, but he got over it faster than I did. Cheater! 

Even with feeling sick, I've been keeping up with picking up the guitar every day I'm home. I didn't take it out camping, because I didn't buy a case for it. I figured I wouldn't be taking it many places in the near future. Maybe I'll get a case if I want to take it camping next year. 

For now, I've been practicing chords in a bit of a random fashion. Years ago, I stole a songbook from my dad, Great Songs of the Sixties. When I tried to learn guitar on my ex's guitar, many years back, I worked pretty hard on "Eleanor Rigby" from that book. It has the advantage of not using a lot of chords, and the chords it does use aren't terribly hard for a beginner. No trying to hold down multiple strings with one finger, mostly easy reaches. I got okay at it, I think. 

Naturally, that's the first song I went back to, and the shapes of those chords are starting to seep into my fingers. If I go slow, I can almost sing and strum that one now. Still got big pauses on the C6. I'm also working on "The Sound of Silence". It is a bit harder, but I'm using some simplified versions of the listed chords to make it doable. I'm still looking at my hand to make sure the chord is right before I play it, and that slows things down a bit. 

I haven't got a routine down yet for the practice. I'm looking for one, but I haven't landed anywhere yet. Just practicing the chords that I know in my mind, trying to imprint them into my fingers, and a little bit of plucking practice for when I get up to learning Rush's "The Trees". I tend to make time for practice in the mornings before work, and in the evenings just before bed - though I did skip some nights in the last week with feeling ill, I didn't skip my mornings. 

Wednesday, September 30, 2020

The Music

 I bought a guitar. 

This is actually the first guitar I have owned, but not the first time that I've tried to learn to play. My dad plays guitar, and some of my fondest childhood memories are of singing along with his playing. So the first time I tried to learn guitar was in my youth. 

I never got very far. I always thought my hands were too small for my dad's guitar. I've since come around the idea that maybe if I practice putting my fingers in those positions, I'll get better at it. 

The second guitar that I put some real practice into belonged to my ex-husband. Well, technically, it belonged to his father. Neither of them, as far as I know, actually plays. I mean, maybe my ex does now, I haven't heard from him in over a decade by now. I tried to buy that guitar off of him. It was a sweet little classical guitar, and I offered to buy it off him, but he refused. 

I suppose I can't blame him for wanting to hold onto something of his dad's, considering the way his dad pretty much abandoned him, his mom and his sister in favor of a new family. But I really wish I had been able to keep that guitar. 

I hadn't played one in years, but after spending some evenings at the Big Creek Lodge this summer, where the innkeepers would have an informal jam session, with playing and singing, I got the urge. I still have a flute, though I haven't played that in quite some time, but it isn't the same. I want to be able to sing along while I play. Plus, the flute is very loud, and I live in an apartment building. 

The guitar is pretty loud, I suppose, but it doesn't feel as loud as the flute. And it's definitely less shrill in tone. I'm inspired by a guy named Chuck, who played along with the innkeepers even though he's still learning and makes mistakes. He reminded me that it's all about practice if you want to get better, and they all reminded me that it's okay to make mistakes while playing. 

So, I'm going to practice. I'm going to play - not just play music, but play. And I'm going to have fun. 




Wednesday, September 23, 2020

No Poo Update

 When something is a part of your life, every day for decades, it feels very different when you stop doing it. Even something as small as shampooing my hair every day has left a bit of a void where it used to be. I'm still marveling that my hair isn't falling out or a mass of grease. It's doing... fine. 

Now, I did have a headache last weekend. A long, drawn out one that wouldn't quit until Monday morning. Boo. 

BUT I don't think it was hair related. Period related, likely. Maybe bowel related. 

I didn't cave and wash my hair though. I persevered and the headache was gone on Monday morning (just in time for work, oh joy). 

When I saw my hair stylist for a cut, I told her about my decision to stop shampooing. She was all for using less product, but a bit leery of me never shampooing again. I agreed to do it on occasion, but I plan to only do it if I use hair product and need to clean it out. I do some girly things, but hair products ain't one of them. I own a few, and use them MAYBE 5 times a year. 

My boar bristle brush arrived. I really don't need to brush my hair since it is super short, but the scritchy bristles feel so nice on my scalp that I do it anyway. Less hair brushing, more ... petting? Sure, I'll take that. 

Last week, I was using baking soda almost every day. I decided to curtail that, because I don't want to be using it every day or even every other day. I don't want to depend on it. Plus, I don't have a baking soda dispenser for my shower, so I keep forgetting to get it before I get wet. It's hard to handle baking soda once your hands are wet. 

I know that correlation isn't causation, but I have noticed that my body seems to be running hotter since I stopped shampooing. And I've lost weight, but that's something I've been working on all year. With two less steps in my shower routine (shampoo and conditioner), I think my showers have been a little faster. Not much faster because I am the kind of person who enjoys just standing in a hot shower, but a little. 

Overall, the experiment is going well. I wasn't sure that I would make my minimum goal of six weeks when I started, but now that I've got more than four under my hat, so to speak, I think I'll make it just fine. When I feel the need to wash the hair, I'll use my husband's shampoo, but I don't think that will be happening all that often. 

And on the plus side, I've been waking up with some awfully cute bed head. 



Wednesday, September 16, 2020

Passing It On

Last weekend, I took someone backpacking. It wasn't their first trip, but the actual first one was not the best experience, and put them off of backpacking a bit. This wasn't the first time that I'd gone backpacking with someone other than my husband, but it was the first time that I was taking someone out for a good "first" experience. 

I took them to the same place that Ambrose took me for my first backpacking trip, Skillern Hot Springs outside of Fairfield, ID. It has a lot of advantages for a first trip. The hike out is short, but includes some challenges, like stream crossings and climbs. The trail is open to motorcycles, so it is very well maintained, especially between the parking lot and the hot springs. Oh yes, did I mention the hot springs? 

The trip was great. I've definitely changed that person's idea of what a backpacking trip can be. I learned that I can lead a trip without Ambrose to back me up or advise me. And I got to enjoy a hot spring that holds a special place in my own backpacking history. 

I was nervous about going on this trip way back when I first suggested doing it back in May or April. I'm fine backpacking with Ambrose, and I adjusted to hiking with other backpackers and even their dogs. I don't have any issues backpacking by myself. But taking someone else, someone who had only backpacked once before and had a negative experience... That was a bit of pressure. 

On the one hand, I felt confident that this trip was the right "first" trip for this person. On the other hand, maybe the exigencies of the first trip weren't the only reason it wasn't a good experience. Backpacking isn't for everyone, after all. 

As luck would have it, I've been extremely busy at work. I'm not only lacking in boredom, I'm actively busy for the majority of the day due to a software implementation. And that means that I had absolutely no spare energy left for worrying about the trip. I didn't worry about whether I could actually lead a newbie out on a trip and make it a good one. I didn't worry about anything. 

When the time came to actually go on the trip, I just experienced it. I didn't compare it to a worried expectation. I was myself, and I experienced. 

While I'm not sure I could take someone out for a first trip if I didn't consider them a friend, I know now that I can take a friend out. And I know just how rewarding it can be to introduce someone to backpacking in a positive way. 

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

A Collection of Omelets

 I've got way more work at work than I can fit into my days, so please enjoy this collection of omelets. 

This cute little omelet pan made most of the omelets pictured below. It's a joy to use.
Three cheese omelet smothered in guacamole.


Morel omelet for Ambrose.

Sausage omelet with cheese and guacamole.

Bacon topped omelet!

I use a lot of guac it turns out.
And yet more guac ;)


Pico de gallo omelet. 


Wednesday, September 2, 2020

No Poo!

 I have joined a movement. Though I didn't realize that's what I was doing when I made the decision to stop shampooing my hair. 

It wasn't a decision that I made lightly; I have, for years, known that when I go too long between shampoos, I get a headache. Not a little headache, a big, draining, all-consuming headache that WILL NOT go away until I shampoo my hair (and I usually need a good night's sleep in addition to that before it totally goes away). 

Last week, I was on vacation. I washed my hair on Monday evening, but then I didn't have another chance to shower until Thursday. And I thought, I should try just rinsing my hair with water and see if I can defer the headache. Why not? I'm on vacation - worst case scenario is I start getting a headache and cave into the need to shampoo.

I made it through Thursday and Friday and Saturday without getting a headache. I showered each day and combed my hair in the shower to try to get any dirt out. On Sunday, I decided to do a baking soda wash, which I'd read was a substitute that "no poo" people use. 

No Poo is the name of the movement. I didn't make it up, I swear. There's a website and everything! 

It's been over a week now. I'm trying to give the whole experiment at least 6 weeks, to give my hair plenty of time to decide how to behave without shampoo after decades of near-daily shampooing and conditioning. My hair doesn't smell bad, though it does smell like hair. No dandruff or dirt build up or oil build up yet. More important - no headache yet. 

I'm glad that my hair is as short as it is, since I've read that folks with longer hair can have a harder time doing this. But I think I need a haircut anyway - the big question on my mind is: what will my stylist think??

The biggest reason for stopping the shampoo is that it clearly has physical effects on me. I know that shampoo is safe enough to be sold as a consumer product, but that doesn't mean that my particular body likes those chemicals to be applied constantly. If I can get "addicted" to shampoo, if shampoo withdrawal causes real and consistent symptoms, then I want to see what happens when I quit that addiction. 

And there might be a smidge of me thumbing my nose at the systems of the world. Next up: bra burning ;)

Wednesday, August 26, 2020

Radical Acceptance

 When you're out in the wilderness, there is no air conditioning. No heating either. 

Well, I guess you could say there's both. At night, the temperature does tend to drop. And during the day, it gets warmer. But you have no control over the temperature, and no way to change it. Sure, you can try to stay in the shade for a minor adjustment, but if you're following a trail, there's not always shade to be had. I actually find it easiest to hike when it's just a little bit colder than comfortable, because the work of hiking warms me up. But when it's hot out, that works against me. 

I have to figure out what I can do to adapt. At night, that's the tent and the down quilt and long underwear. During the hiking day, it's get up hella early to hike in the coolest weather possible, and, when it's hot, to simply persevere. Stay hydrated, wet my hat at every opportunity, but it comes down to adapting to hiking in the heat, you just have to accept that you are hot, and you will continue to be hot. 

I'm not talking about ignoring the signs of hyperthermia. But you can be a long way from medically overheating and still be just unbearably hot. Especially when you're on a ridgeline, carrying a pack with over 20% of your bodyweight in it, and the sun is directly overhead, beating into your skull and reflecting off of the ground and right into your face no matter how wide your hat brim is. 

It's not comfortable. It's not super fun. The views, and other things, compensate for this. I certainly wouldn't sign up for a hot, loaded hike with no rewards. That's one way to help yourself through that kind of unfun, by focusing on the good things. 

Another way is to really lean into accepting what's going on. You get a distinct line between things that are in your control and things that are not out in the wilderness. You take care of your gear and it takes care of you. You watch your step and where your steps are leading you. You adapt as best you can to the temperature and the weather. You accept that you can't control the weather, the temperature, the bugs, the condition of the trail, other people you may encounter, animals you may encounter, where the trail climbs or descends, how many times water crosses the trail... 

Knowing what you can and can't do and accepting it allows you to find a different kind of focus. In the time of COVID, I've been experiencing so much anxiety. I've written about it already, and I'll keep writing about it, because I don't want constant anxiety to become normalized. I want to radically accept that I cannot control a whole lot of things going on in the world around me. And look closely at the things that remain. The things that I might be able to change. 

If I'm willing to try. 

Wednesday, August 19, 2020

Walking and Writing

On my last backpacking trip, I made a conscious effort to write every day. I feel like I've been slacking in the note taking department on my backpacking trips, the ones that I take with other people at least. I don't have problems writing on my solo trips. 

I succeeded in writing every single day on that trip. It wasn't even that difficult. It was like falling back into a comfortable habit. I liked writing down our times for starting and stopping for the day, and just recording things that I might want to remember later. Like seeing a bat at one of our campsites, or reminding myself that I wanted to look up the etymology of bat. 

Although I used to bring a notebook for writing, I now bring loose sheets of unlined 8.5 x 11 paper, which I fold into quarters. I treat each quarter like its own page, with its own orientation. I use a ballpoint pen, carried in the same gallon baggie that holds the maps I write on. Usually a black one, for whatever reason I rarely take blue ink. 

On my next trip, I'll be solo, so I shouldn't have any trouble getting my writing done. I'm excited to be going on this trip, and also excited about writing the book about the trip. The whole process of writing, putting together pictures, and publishing the book lets me relive the whole thing well into the fall and early winter. It's one of the things that keeps me sane in the off season. 

The only problem I foresee is that I typically write on the back of the ICT maps on my solo trips. Trouble is, I also typically travel from south to north. This year, I'll be travelling from north to south. That means that I'll be starting on an ICT map that overlaps with a future hike, and ending on one that I've already started. Worst case, I run out of room. I guess I could go ahead and print out a new copy for the future hike, and use the whole thing this year. 

I'll be happy if the worst issue I have on this hike is running out of room to write on the ICT maps. After all, I'll be carrying more maps, and they're paper too. Sure, they're the topo maps, but we don't ever use the back :)

Wednesday, August 12, 2020

Floating Free of Anxiety

 I recently took an eight day, seven night backpacking trip with my husband. Eight whole days without internet access, cell phone, work, and, for the most part, other people. 

When we first started hiking, I felt an unfamiliar fear and anxiety attempt to attach itself to something out here. I'm comfortable being out in the Idaho wilderness on the trails by now. I don't usually look around for something to worry about; out there, there's enough that's real to think about without making things up. But this time, it was like I kept grasping for something to be scared of. 

I actually considered not going on my solo trip, because I was afraid that I wasn't ready or wasn't fit enough to do what I planned to do. I had to keep talking to myself about the difference between this year's trip and last year's. Last year, I planned on the aggressive schedule of 20 miles per day on average, which works well enough in the Owyhee desert, but not so well on mountain trails that haven't been getting the kind of maintenance that would make them easy. This year, with respect for both the large elevation changes of my trail and the disrepair of several sections of it, I planned to average 14 miles per day over 7 days - with the first day being only 8. 

It wasn't until the 3rd or 4th day that I was able to let go of that anxiety and start to feel comfortable about the upcoming solo. By the time I finished the trip, I was feeling ready for the solo, but not ready to go back to the electronic world. I even avoided turning on my phone for several hours after I got back home, and I left it in airplane mode for days and didn't open social media. Although I did play games and catch up on some of my favorite websites. 

I just wanted to keep avoiding the world as much as I could. I wanted vacation to last forever, and to forget about the world for as long as possible. 

And while vacation can't last forever, I can at least try and maintain that connection to the side of myself that the wilderness brings out. The side that knows she can hike the hike, and doesn't much care what anyone else thinks. 

Wednesday, August 5, 2020

Going Back to Work

When I get back from my vacation, I'm going to be actually going into work for my work day for the first time since March. I'm both looking forward to it and a bit anxious. On the one hand, it will be nice to get out of the house again, and I like riding my bike to and from work. I might even do some running home from work as it gets cooler outside and it makes sense to run at 5 in the evening instead of 5 in the morning. On the other hand, I'll be going to work... 

My work place has definitely been proactive about precautions. I'll be issued a couple of masks, and there are expectations that they will be worn indoors when out of a private office area, and outdoors whenever distance cannot be maintained. But no one is perfect, and whenever you have an environment with large numbers of people moving through it, risks of viral exposure increases. 

And I've been asked to retain some of my work equipment at home so that I can easily flex back if I feel a bit ill, but not ill enough to call in sick. Or if the workplace gets shut down in any way. Which could happen pretty easily; it is a school that intends to open in the fall after all. 

Everything feels a little bit crazy. A little bit off. I work without going to work, and I hardly leave the apartment except for proscribed shopping trips and neighborhood runs. Will riding my bike to work each day help me feel more normal? Or will wearing a mask at work make things feel different? Not to mention no socializing at lunch, and the fact that most of my co-workers will be working remotely. And those of us who will be in the office are not supposed to get too close. 

My meetings will still be virtual, but I might be isolated enough in my office to forgo the headphones for some meetings at least. And my ears will be very happy to get a break from wearing them - especially with some of these marathon 4 hour meetings that I've been in to prepare to implement a new software system. Based on the density of people who will be in my office, I'm anticipating that I'll be able to do some singing, or at least listen to music without headphones as well. 

I quite enjoy singing while I work, and my poor husband has had to endure quite a bit of that over the last few months. It's not that I'm a bad singer, but he prefers to listen to non-vocal music. And soon, he'll be able to listen to what he wants all day while I'm at work and I'll be able to listen to whatever I want while I'm at work - except during meetings!

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

No Ready Reply

I always hope to have that pithy remark ready, should someone require such correction in the course of my life. But when I was on a run a few weeks ago, I turned out to be remarkably unready to deliver anything close to an incisive commentary on this man's choice not to look at the crosswalk before rolling his truck right into it. 

See, I went on my run early in the day so I could avoid seeing people. I pull my buff up to mask my face when I run near people, so the less I have to do that, the better. It's not that early though - the sun is, in fact, nearly over the ridge, and it's plenty bright enough outside. Plus, I'm wearing a bright yellow shirt. I'm plenty visible - the problem was not on that end. 

No, as I ran on the sidewalk on Apple from Parkcenter towards Boise, I only glanced for a moment when I saw a truck moving in the D & B parking lot. I figured they would have to see me; after all, I was right there on the sidewalk. I didn't look up as I entered the crosswalk that bridges the sidewalk from one side of the driveway to the other. Turns out, neither did the truck driver. It continued to roll directly into the crosswalk that I was occupying. 

I finally looked up to see the driver's right ear as he looked at the road, in an apparent attempt to enter the roadway without having to come to a complete stop at all. 

Later, I thought that I should have slapped the truck - after all, it was about to slap me. Or that I should have said something clever. Instead, I spread my arms wide and waved them and uttered these words: "Hey! Hey! Hey! Fuuuuuck!" 

Thus is defined the limit of my ability to produce a comeback mid-run while my heart is pounding extra hard from almost being rolled over by a truck. 

I ran on. I did glance back, but I wasn't at a good angle to see if the driver was as disturbed by almost hitting me as I was at almost being hit. I hope he was, but I bet he wasn't. 

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

Introspection

It's 94.95 degrees on my porch, but it doesn't feel that hot to me. Of course, I'm in full shade, which helps with keeping cool, but I think it's mostly because I've been so cold lately. It's taking longer for my body to get warm enough to care about it being hot outside. But I can feel it happening; the sweat is getting ready to pop out on my brow, and I'll soon be forced to retreat into the air conditioned comfort of my apartment. 

But not yet. Now, I'm writing, not distracted by the television or any music. I am a bit distracted by passers-by and the squirrels and birds bold enough to dare eating birdseed mere feet away from my feet. Overall, however, I'm much more able to focus out here. 

I've got a good amount of writing to do in the next few days. I'll be going out of town on Tuesday morning, so I need to have a couple of blogs prepped and ready to go for each of my blogs. I know what I'm writing about for the next couple of Gym to the Mountain posts, since I still have a couple of days of my 4th of July trip to put up, and then I have other exercise related things that are easy to write about. 

Here though, I'm just not sure what to write. I hold myself back, here, from writing about some of the things that occupy much of my mind these days. I don't want to write about politics here, at least, not too extensively. And I don't want to let all my focus here go to the pandemic either. But I find that I consume a lot of politics and pandemic related news. And I grind and think on those items, and I might write about them... but not here. 

I guess another thing that's been occupying my thoughts in this space of strangeness engendered by the pandemic. I find myself thinking about who I am, and what I am. Who I want to be, and how that meshes with who I am now. Who I was in the past, and how I got here from there. I'm a bit confounded about how it is that I came from years of Catholic schooling and never really believed in any of it. Looking at myself, I feel like I've chosen paths that I really had no "right" or "reason" or "impetus" to choose. How did I manage to decide that I didn't need to wear makeup, growing up in this society and in my family? 

But that's not necessarily blog material either. 

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Writing

I finished up the Endings workshop, and I feel like I got some good information from it. It was a very different workshop than Depth in some ways. I mean, the structure is the same, but the homework was very different. Depth was more about practice, while Endings was about studying.

I also asked for access to the Depth workshop on the Teachable platform since I had taken that workshop before they went to that platform. I got a code to get into the July Depth workshop and I'm going to be listening to those videos again as they get released. I won't turn the homework in for that workshop, but I just might do some of it, because I remember being pretty inspired to write when I did the workshop the first time.

I haven't been writing fiction lately, and I'm okay with that. My focus right now is on other things; I'm adjusting to working from home, it's backpacking season and I've got a wild solo trip scheduled. My mental focus is on the implementation of a new software at the office, and I don't really have much extra.

Which is why I need to refocus writing as play. Telling stories should be fun. If it isn't, then maybe I'm not ready to be writing stories. I'll see how it goes with going through the Depth workshop videos again. Maybe I'll be inspired again.

If not, I won't worry about it. The world's a crazy place right now. Just because I'm not writing right now doesn't mean that I'll never write again. If there's a motto for 2020, it just might be "never say never" after all.

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

Free Floating Anxiety

I've been backpacking for several years now, and solo backpacking as well. I have spent many nights in the outdoors with just a tent (and sometimes not even that) for protection. And while I have had some nights in the wild where I felt trepidation, even fear, I have rarely had anxiety about spending the night in the woods while I'm still home. 

And yet, this year, I've had a couple of nights at home when I suddenly think about spending the night alone in the woods and I'm filled with anxiety, afraid of the worst possibilities. I can feel the fear coursing through my body and I didn't know why I should suddenly start being afraid of something that I'm pretty comfortable with doing. 

Instead of taking the anxiety as a truth, I decided to look at that anxiety as an aberration. I examined myself to try and determine what could be causing me to feel that way since I had no reason to fear that particular thing. 

I came to the conclusion that this whole pandemic thing has probably caused so much anxiety in my mind that it's just floating around and trying to attach itself to any old thing. Next I'll probably reacquire my phobia of talking on the phone, oh wait, that totally did resurface during this pandemic. 

The other day on Facebook I saw someone writing about being able to read the vibes, knowing if the vibes are positive or negative. I didn't respond, because I feel like it would be hard to do so without coming off as trite, but I thought about it. And in the context of my free floating anxiety, I made a connection. I wanted to tell that friend to be careful that he wasn't creating the vibes he felt he was perceiving. I'm certainly not the only one with some extra anxiety floating around, just waiting to attach itself to something in the brain.  

Wednesday, July 1, 2020

Work from Home Poetry

My director at work gave us a challenge - come up with a haiku that's related to the fact that we're having to work from home. I played to win with one referencing a meeting that she had been on when a squirrel kept coming into my apartment behind me during the meeting. She had enjoyed the show quite a bit, so I started with the squirrel in mind. 

The one I submitted to the competition was my second attempt. I wanted to make sure that I cleaved to the haiku standard of referencing the season in some way, as well as keeping the syllable count. 

squirrels at the door
grown bolder with summer's heat
I work at their home

My scheme only worked so far; had I known my director has a penchant for rhyming verse, I would have used that technique, nontraditional though it would be for haiku. I came in second place to a rhyming haiku that was also pretty funny. No squirrels though, minus points. 

I used to very much prefer having my poetry rhyme, but as I grew older I came to appreciate the lack of rhyme as well. Though I still like a structure and a pattern. Haiku is nice for that, because the structure is provided. And, quite frankly, in America the syllable scheme is pretty much the only thing we pay attention to with haiku. 

Maybe I'll write a few more of these; they might be a good focus while hiking. I like trying to condense my intentions into such small spaces. 


Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Assumptions

Last Thursday night, when I was in bed and ready to fall asleep, I had a thought that had me sitting bolt upright. I knew that I needed to write it down, because that helps me remember things, and this was a thing I did not want to lose to falling asleep. My actions disturbed my husband, and he asked me what was going on. Since I didn't want to stay up late talking about it, I just told him that I needed to write something down.

Over the years, I've tried to live by the four agreements, because when I do that I find myself being happier. I've eliminated many of my anxiety monsters with the four agreements. But my monsters are clever; they know that if I fully live the four agreements, then I will have no room for them and they will die. And that's why they try to create limitations and exceptions in how I view the agreements.

Don't Make Assumptions. That's an easy one, right? I took it as an admonition not to judge a book by its cover, so to speak. Not to assume things about other people based on appearance. That's definitely a part of it - but not the whole of it. There's more to it, and one part of that more is what jolted me out of my drift into sleep.

I have a habit of constantly thinking about how other people will react to things that I say or do. I restrict myself or, rarely, put myself out there, based on my **assumptions** about what other people might think about me, or what they might do in reaction to me. But my monsters kept me from thinking about that as being covered under Don't Make Assumptions.

I felt as if a great burden had been lifted when I had this revelation. I felt happier. Because I was giving myself permission to let that go. Not to try to conform myself to the expectations that I think others have of me, not to try and make those guesses about what other people think... That doesn't mean not thinking about whether what I say or do could be hurtful - I still need to Be Impeccable with my Word, after all. It just means cutting out the anxiety producing activity of assuming what other people will do and basing my actions on how they will judge me.

I told Ambrose about it later the next day. I didn't want to wake myself and him up right then, but it felt important to share, even though I immediately started post-judging my revelation as something that's surely obvious to everyone else. But that doesn't matter - I'm not going to assume anything about other people; I'm just going to write.

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Headache Resurge

I'd managed to go quite a while without getting a bad headache. That streak ended over the weekend.

I've come up with a new theory on them. I know that my jaw has been ground down a bit from tooth grinding - enough that even I could see it on the x-ray. And I've heard that some people get weather aches in bones that were previously broken. Therefore, if I get a headache when the rains come, and that headache radiates out from that very jawbone...

Unfortunately, that hypothesis would mean there's not a whole lot that I can do to alleviate things, at least not that I have found. Maybe if I could flee to a hyperbaric chamber? I feel like I've tried so many things to treat the headaches, with mixed success at best.

When I have the headache, there's not much room for anything else. Just the throbbing, aching pain, radiating out from the jaw or the neck, sometimes the sinus, but almost always the left side. I keep trying things to get rid of the pain, but the best I can usually get is some level of ability to ignore it. Just enough distraction to keep me from screaming into a pillow.

On the other hand, I did manage to go quite a while without a headache. AND there were other rainstorms in that time period, so maybe the whole weather ache theory is bunk after all. So I should look at what I was doing in that time period, what I might have done that kept the headaches away for months at a time, and maybe what I did to bring them back.

It could have been stress, but I should have been getting more headaches during the whole pandemic crisis, right? The only other factor that might be at play is my menstrual cycle. I wonder if I could find a correlation between headaches and a coincidence of being on my period and having a storm front pass through?

I guess I'll have to start tracking the weather...

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

Weekend Unplugged and Lightly Scheduled

Over the Memorial Day weekend, my husband and I usually do a car camping trip, but this year we did a backpacking trip. Since we knew we wouldn't be able to get far into the Wilderness at this time of the season, the idea was to hike a short distance out and, essentially, do a car camping like trip except that we're backpacking in.

I've been keeping up with 4 runs a week for several weeks now, and I didn't want to lose that streak for a backpacking trip. So I organized myself around that goal. I did my fourth run of the week on Friday instead of waiting for Saturday, since we were travelling on Saturday. And I decided to do trail runs while backpacking, which meant packing extra clothing and shoes and preparing, mentally, for a tough and limited run.

To get a good start on the week's runs, I planned to run Sunday and Monday. Those were the only things that I really had scheduled for that weekend. I've been recording all my runs on the Map My Run app through my phone, but I did not want to bother with my phone out in the wilderness. I don't have a very protective case, and if I break it I will need to buy a new one. So I left the phone in the car and made some guesses after the fact on my run distance (I did time both runs with my watch).

I know I could have brought my phone and recorded my runs that way if I really wanted to. I could probably have managed not to break it. But it was good for me to be unplugged. No games, no apps, no phone to pull my attention away from the awesome natural surroundings. I did bring my kindle this time. Even though it is electronic equipment, on a trip like this when I'd have a lot of time to read, it was much more efficient to bring the many books in my kindle than one or two paper books that I would have ripped through in a day or two.

Since the stay at home orders, I've been seeking refuge in structure. I needed to hold onto a schedule of my own in order to keep going. But it's hard to keep that up. As the end of May approached, I needed a change. Backpacking has its own structures (for me anyway), but they're different than the ones at home. Being outside and unplugged for a weekend was an important refresher for my brain. I'm looking forward to more backpacking this summer, even as the trips get more structured. But I'm rather dreading the fall, when we may be facing more waves of virus, more stay at home orders and I won't be able to get outside - but I can still unplug and look for other ways to destress.

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

Writing Refocus

I have not been writing fiction during this pandemic. I've been thinking about writing fiction. And thinking up stories. But I haven't been writing. I can't seem to get my mind into fiction writing mode. Or I'm not trying hard enough to do that.

I am writing, after all, I'm keeping up with my blogs, but I want to refocus on writing fiction, and I've found a really good way to do that. I took advantage of WMG Publishing's pandemic discount and signed up for a writing workshop that starts next week. I've done one of them before, and I believe it really helped me improve my writing. Regular price is $300, so I had to figure out how to budget for that before I could do it. But half off? Done.

The first workshop I took was called Depth, and it helped me see a dimension of writing that I had not been consistent in, not having full awareness of it. The one I'm taking next is called Endings, because if there's one thing I struggle with most in writing short stories, it's ending them. I often feel like I don't know if I've reached the end or not.

Doing the workshop will help me get excited about writing and force me to actually do some with the assignments. I'll have some real deadlines to get my butt in the chair, so to speak, and I'm looking forward to that.

Writing might turn out to be an important income stream some time in the future; if I can build on what I already have published, then I have more work out there that has the potential to bring in my money. What I should be doing in this time that I'm not writing is getting organized. A proper inventory would be a good start...

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Toilet Paper

My husband and I typically buy toilet paper at Costco. Their store brand is nice and we don't have to buy it all that often since there's just the two of us. But we haven't been able to do that lately.

We could have joined the people who jumped on the toilet paper hoarding early, but that would have meant going to the store at a time other than when we typically do. We decided not to change our habits and deal with it if we ran out of toilet paper. Luckily, we still had about a third of a Costco package, so we had no real need.

But as the weeks went by, our supply ran lower, and still Costco and Winco had empty shelves. We ended up buying some emergency rolls from a farmstand that was selling them at a dollar a roll. Fairly low quality, but it would certainly work if the need should arise.

And it was a good thing that we did that, because we did run out of toilet paper. Well, sort of. See, as backpackers, we have a habit of tearing up toilet paper rolls into smaller sections so that we can take less of it on a trip than a whole roll. Oh, and we tear the cardboard tubes out as well, because that's really just weight out there (not a lot of weight, but still ;). When the toilet paper that still had its tubes was out, we moved onto the emergency rolls that we'd purchased. But we could have dug out all the backpacking half and quarter rolls languishing in the car and apartment.

Winco started to have some toilet paper supplies during our visits in early May, though the selection was not huge. And by mid-May the selection was wider. But we still haven't managed to catch toilet paper at Costco, although we came close on one trip, spying a package in someone's cart. We usually do a stroll through Costco in a very specific order, but after Ambrose saw that toilet paper, we raced directly to the back to see if there were any left.

Alas, the only toilet paper packages to be seen were the gigantic industrial rolls, which I certainly do not wish to use in my home, thank you very much.

I don't think I've ever thought so much about toilet paper in my life. It's one of those things that was taken completely for granted. Not only that toilet paper would always be there, but that we would always need and use toilet paper. Even though there are places in the world where toilet paper isn't used or is used differently, the thought of change doesn't come up when the system trundles along without calling attention to its faults.

We might have to change our habits if we want to buy Costco toilet paper anytime soon. Show up at a different time, on a different day... That we don't is a way of trying to maintain a sense of normalcy. Like maybe when we can get that toilet paper on the same day, at the same time as we usually did, then things would feel normal again.

Even if the feeling's just a thin tissue of illusion.

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Website?

For a while now, I've thought about having an author website on my own domain instead of essentially using Blogger as a substitute for one. Blogger is not very professional, in my opinion, for a serious writer. Then again, I'm not exactly a serious writer. I'm more of a snarky writer, but that's no reason not be professional.

My husband, for reasons of his own, recently decided that the domain we'd been talking about buying was getting bought. So now we have our own domain and I just need to figure out the fiddly details of transitioning from a Blogger blog to a homegrown blog. Or to plug this one in. Or something, I'm sure it will come to me.

I used to have a website, when we were first dating actually, but I let it lapse and by now I've dumped just about everything I learned about building and maintaining a website down the memory hole. I'm relearning how to do the things that I want to do, as well as the things that my husband would like me to do.

So far, so good, but I am concerned about how much time I'll need to devote to it. Not as much once it's up and running, but implementation takes more time. And requires a lot more decision making and brainpower!

This blog will probably get redirected first, and then I'll do additional work to make it look all professional and non-Blogger-ish. And maybe I'll port it completely into Word Press, which I've used in the past.

I'm excited to be working on something new, but also a bit trepidatious about not only working on a website for my personal work, but also helping to implement a new system at work. Though, I'm not a lead on that project, I'm anticipating the entire thing being quite a time suck. And it will also suck at my limited brainpower.

But I'll get recharged on backpacking trips and find the time and space.

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

The Ugly Chicken

My husband and I were not the types to leave the house often before quarantine. We have our regular shopping trips, and, in the before times, we'd occasionally go out to eat. Well, I mean, I did leave the house for work every day and that's been a substantial change, but as far as going out, it wasn't a big thing for us.

We went to Costco on 4/30, which was the day that the Governor of Idaho confirmed that we would be starting phase 1 of re-opening post-COVID-19 on May 1. Although Costco had already put plans into place to require that shoppers wear masks as of 5/4, I figured that most people in Boise would be more lax. And, it seemed to me, that they were. There seemed to be a larger proportion of people in the store than 2 weeks prior, and a significant chunk were not wearing masks.

At Costco, and in most shopping places, it's all about trying to do your best. You can't control the actions of others around you, and you can't predict that the six feet of space you're trying to give the person in front of you is blocking off traffic behind you. That's actually been the worst part of Costco; we try to wait and give people space and we end up becoming a roadblock as others just go around us instead of waiting and giving space.

So we do our best. We get frustrated. We move on.

One thing that hasn't changed in these times is that my husband and I try to get a Costco roasted chicken to eat for dinner on shopping nights. One week, earlier in the pandemic, there were none. That was sad, but we survived.

So when we got to the area of Costco where the roast chickens are kept, I was at first alarmed to see a group of people around it. Then I saw they were all just standing there, chatting (mostly without masks, tsk tsk), while one solitary roast chicken sat in the case, untouched.

I rushed over to rescue the chicken from their indifference, and when I got close enough I could see why no one else had taken it.

It was, to be blunt, an ugly chicken.

The roasted skin had pulled off of the breast, revealing a rather torn expanse of breast, with little parts burned where the meat had gotten roasted a tad too much. And I almost left it right there, but I wanted normal. And normal meant a gosh-darned Costco chicken, so I took it.

Reader, let me tell you, that was one of the best roast chickens that I've ever gotten from Costco. It was extremely juicy and my husband used the large quantity of aspic in a curry on Sunday night. Sure, it was no looker, but we weren't buying it to look at now, were we? I almost - almost - feel bad about those people who ignored the ugly chicken, and thereby allowed us to enjoy it. But really, they made their own bed when they chose to ignore a food based on its appearance.

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

The Case of the Missing Shorts

So last night my husband is bustling around looking for his workout shorts. He knows he washed them, because he wanted to run today. They weren't in the washer or the dryer, and they weren't in the clean laundry pile (where they should be, since I hadn't put laundry up yet). He was looking and looking, and I decided to join in. I started, sensibly, by checking his drawer, even though he insisted that they couldn't be there.

Ta da!

I handed them over and sat down on the couch. I could see him from there, but only intermittently since some shelving is between us. He thanked me for finding the shorts and said, "Now, I've just got to find my glasses!"

I glanced up, caught a glimpse of his face and doubled over laughing.

The laughter was actually painful, because I'd given my abs some hard work the last couple days. Painful, but I couldn't stop, because when I caught that glimpse of his face, I saw two dark circles around his eyes. AKA his glasses. On his face. Not propped on his forehead, not on a chain around his neck. Wearing them. I was going to tell him, as soon as I stopped laughing. . .

I felt a little bad for laughing so much, but he took it in good humor - once he figured out where they were!

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

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.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

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.

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

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.













Wednesday, April 8, 2020

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. . .