Puddles

Smells can do so many things to a person.  They can warn of danger, make one hungry, or bring back memories.

Today was a bright October day.  Crisp and clear, with cotton ball clouds in the sky and snow on the mountain peaks.  A perfect day for washing windows, cutting down holly-hocks and living life.

In the back of my mind, I knew today was the anniversary of my grandma's death.  But it wasn't until I was applying a heavy duty lotion to my hands that it hit me.  The cream I was using smelled just like some hair detangler my grandma had in a jar under the bathroom sink. 

Instantly, it brought back memories of being at her house.  Staying there for a week with my brother, when one of my sisters was born.  Holidays with the whole family.  Her blue gingham plates.  The green wallpaper in the kitchen.  Picking strawberries and asparagus.  Nails painted red.  Aunt Sharon's cigarettes and the ash-tray she carried in her purse.  Staying overnight with the cousins.  Too many sleeping bags in the living room and the boys sleeping under the dining room table.  Arguing.  There was always arguing at grandma's house, as ideas where discussed in depth -- except on the Fourth of July, when there would be peonies floating in water on the kitchen table, smelling like a fresh can of Copenhagen.  It is amazing to me how that smell can keep people calm.  Is it any wonder peonies are my favorite flower?

Speaking of flowers, the hand lotion also brought back memories of the passive-aggressive relationship my grandmother and I always had.  We rarely saw eye to eye on anything, which resulted in her labeling me 'a thorny child'.

My dad, who usually had similar ideas to grandma (though he was the son-in-law), picked up where grandma left off and told me I was a prickly pear cactus.  "Beautiful to look at, dangerous to handle."  He told me they were prettier and hardier than roses, reminding me how mowing them over only helped to multiply them.

That was my family.  Honest.  Real.  Loud.  In your face.  And grandma was easily the center of it, telling everyone, but me, where to go and what to do.  She claimed, time and again, she was leaving me for God to deal with.  It always made me smile, though I knew it was her way of throwing in the towel.  I never meant to be difficult, but I always refused to roll my eyes behind someones back, when I could say something to their face.  (And I wonder where my kids get it from...)

Last year, when she died, my husband had just taken leave of work for a shoulder injury.  What was suppose to take three weeks of rest to heal resulted in eight months of therapy and a surgery before he was able to return.  These last four months, he has been running his own business, and doing well.  So, of course, all of that came flooding back this afternoon...  How far we have come.  How far we have to go.  The time my grandmother came to visit us, and the arguments we had then.  I still have to laugh when I remember how pissed she got at one daycare child when he wouldn't listen to her.  The first few days she was here, she was blinded by his cuteness... but eventually his stubborn streak got to her.

And then the trip to her funeral.  Driving the ten hours to my sisters.  Sleeping on the floor of her old house, touring the yard, checking out the foot prints left by the bob cat and the cougar that live on their few acres. Then the drive to the funeral with my sister, listening to Death Magnetic the entire way and wondering if we were being sacrilegious... but we knew grandma wouldn't care.

Cuggles, climbing.

Her funeral wasn't a sad time for anyone.  It was a celebration of her life and her home going.  That's why I couldn't believe the tears that fell today, as I remembered.

I'm wearing blue jeans, my sister, who I stayed with is in the purple
dress and my brother is in the white shirt.

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And on a side note, this is something I really want to make!

The idea is to gather a variety of sky colored yarns and then knit a row or two every day of the year, in colors that reflect the sky that day.

I love the simple stripes, but I don't care for flat scarves, so I would probably use a rib stitch to work it up.  I'm thinking it would be best made out of either wool or silk.  Probably wool, since sock yarn is plenty available. Now, I just need to get to a yarn store before grey days set in.

Traveling Again

About three weeks ago, I made one of the most important 'discoveries' of my life, which completely changed my outlook on so many things.  Suddenly, I knew that the first leg of my journey was over!  It was like the relief one feels when it seems that the road is going to go on forever and ever, then suddenly, a hill is topped and the night's stop glows out of the darkness.

However, while a night's rest is nice, so is moving forward again.

Over the past few weeks, I have had time to sort through my thoughts and readjust my thinking to reality.  It has been a pleasant time, but I am ready to be going again.  I'm tired of waiting!  I want more out of life.  And you know what?  I'll get it too.

This is one of the many things I have realized in the last few weeks.  I get what I go after.  Maybe not right away, and maybe the finished product doesn't look just like the original thought, but I do get what I go after.  I always have.

The problem is, I really haven't gone after anything--in the time I have been married--until this last year.  That's right.  My husband had been the last thing I had really set my sights on, up until this last April, when I sat here wondering if I had what it would take to change my life.*

And God has shown me that I do.  He has shown me that I can trust my intuition and that I don't need permission to be the mom I want to be.  My kiddos may not be the happiest with it, but they will adjust, and so far, they have been happy with most of the changes I have made.

*Please don't take this to mean I hadn't done anything... Because I have done lots of things, but they have all been experiments--just to see if I could.  They never held the weight of something I wanted. 
To put this in traveling terms, they were Sunday drives in country -vs- a trip with passport and suitcase in hand.

...then it comes to me...

Some days, it seems as though everything is falling apart.  Other times, it all comes together.  

For the past five years I have wanted a leather jacket.  I had one when I was in my early teens, and I loved how warm and weather proof it was.  I wore it all the time, until I out grew it.  Then, it was passed along to my sisters, until they too outgrew it... With any luck, it is still being passed along.

So, the other day, when I was in Jackson, I stopped by the Boot Barn to pick up a new pair of jeans.  And there I found my leather jacket.  No fringe and a subtle zipper.  Corset lacing.  I tried it on, and it fit perfectly!

Cripple Creek leather Jacket

I was ready to buy it, when Mr.Muscles said, "I like the cross on the back!"

There's a cross on the back?  I took it off and turned it around.  Yep.  There is a big ol' cross on the back.  I wondered how I had managed to miss it when looking in the three-way mirror, so I put it back on and looked again.  Ha!  My hair had covered it up.

But now I had a decision to make.  I try to avoid clothing with obvious emblems on them... Horse shoes, yin-yangs, skulls, crosses, etc... I tend to find things like that tacky.  But I liked everything else about it so much.  Then I realized that with the lacing, the cross could go goth as easily as it could be a religious symbol.  And besides, I usually wear my hair down!  So now it is mine. 

From the Boot Barn, we walked over to the ReStore.  I wanted to see if they had any black tile I could use in remodeling the main bathroom.  They didn't, but they did have a boy-proof couch (with matching chair and ottoman!), like I had been praying to find:

It was clean, smelled good, and all the cushions are removable so it would be easy to recover.  I knew my husband wouldn't be thrilled with the fabric, but I figured it would go with my house just fine.  I felt so lucky!  I had planned to go to a furniture store next (sorry Ken), but for a fraction of the cost, found a new living-room set. 

The old couch, I wanted to get rid of, but it now setting on the back porch:

We've got the real red-neck look going on!  Oh well, the doggy is happy.  Manny says he might bar-be-que all winter, if he can figure out a way to close the porch in.  I have a feeling it will be plastic wrapped before the snow begins to fly.

And finally, there is the pantry I built on Saturday:

Floor to ceiling kitchen pantry, built of pine.

It still needs a face frame and doors, but I won't be adding those until the new floor is in.  I built it in the same manner as my mom's pantry was built, more than 100 years ago:

Construction details of my pantry cupboard, October 1, 2011.

Construction details of the built-in pantry cupboard in a 1910 homestead (farm) house.

I have always loved antique furnishings, and am glad to duplicate this in my house.  Move over Norm.  'This Old House' ain't got nothing on me!

Encouraging Words

As I have eluded to before, my home is not what I want it to be.  My relationship with the children has been rocky for years and I am striving to change that, each and everyday.  How?  Through doing, through being pleasant, through encouragement and by learning from others.

A few weeks ago I picked up a book from the library called Simplicity Parenting, by Kim John Payne.  I haven't read very much, because every few pages I find something that makes stop and ponder.  The first day, it was this:

"Even if some of the details were unrealistic, your dreams about your family had truth to them.  They had meaning, and still do.  They show what you valued most when you began this huge undertaking, this family-building.  What inspired you then can inspire you still.  It has to; families need fresh infusions of hope and imagination. ..." (pg 15)

That paragraph gave me the freedom to dream again. And not just to dream, but to begin implementing those dreams.  Striving for their reality.

Between remodeling and implementing, I didn't take time to read more than a paragraph or two at a time until the other day when I was sitting in a waiting room...  I love waiting rooms.  It is okay to take time for anything quiet -- even if it is browsing a woman's magazine,  because the soul purpose for being there is to wait!

The next thing that really stood out to me was this:

"In terms of areas to change I usually see two categories: what is important, and what is doable.  What seems the most important is usually not; what is most doable is the place to begin.  If you do enough that is doable, you will get to the important, and your motivation will be fueled by your success." (pg 18)

Maybe it is just because he is speaking my language: do, create, begin, success, know, and it echoes what I have been living; or maybe it is because it confirmation that what I am doing is best, this caused me to relax.  Everywhere I turn, there is someone to tell me what is 'important'.  Some of it I can agree with, but most of it just seems like business to me.  And I hate to be busy!  Doing is one thing.  Busy is another.  Doing, in my mind equates creating, whether it is an atmosphere or an object.  Busy equates stress and objects over people.  I won't live like that.

"Somehow parents know where to begin to create the necessary space--in their intentions and their lives--for a transformation." (pg 19)

This reminded me of the Dragon Scroll in Kung Fu Panda.  It was blank.  The 'secret ingredient' was nothing.  Nothing.  There is no secret.  Somehow... Parents... Know...

"So, with a few large baskets, we had culled Marie's toys way down.  The remaining toys were a mix of favorites, the simpler the better: dolls, building toys, cherished bedtime toys, some kitchen things and balls.
...
We didn't just take away toys, we carefully added some.  In one of the baskets we put a stack of brightly colored fabric pieces, some rope, and clothespins.  We also made sure Marie had a table her size, a large drawing pad, and a box of crayons."  (pg 21)

Simplifying is not just about getting rid of things, it is about getting what inspires.  It is a balance.  With that, my sons dentist appointment was over, and it was time to move on.

Our next stop was a sporting good store, where Mr.Muscles wanted to buy some weights.  He says ten pounds in each hand just isn't enough...  Go figure.  The layout of the store had changed since the last time we were there, leaving us to circle the whole thing.  As we were nearing the shoe section (no, I didn't buy anything), I saw a thin lady jogging up and down the isle.  I thought, 'Wow.  She must be serious about her running.'

As we passed by, she stopped me.  "Five boys?  How do you do it?  My two are in the car with their Grandma, so I could shop in peace.  I need running shoes to keep up with them.  I've had so many breakdowns, because they just won't listen to me. What do you do?"

I have to tell you, at that moment, I felt like the worst person on earth to be giving advise.  I have been nit-picking the problems in my family... It never occurred to me that five boys walking calmly through a store could be encouraging to someone.  ...but I told her what I have been doing, which is practicing the behavior and attitudes I want with the children everyday.  Encouraging them and loving them for who they are.

As we walked away, Goose said to me, "I thought we were the worst behaved kids on the planet!" *snickering* "And her kids are worst!"  *self satisfied grin*

I am so glad my kiddos don't know what 'bad' is -- they might just try to achieve it!

When we were done shopping, we went to visit Manny, out at the Moose Visitor Center, where he has been working.  He wanted to show us the heating system that he has been wiring, and I have to say that it is really something!  It is amazing what computer controls and technology can do for efficiency.  We made quite a scene -- five kids and their momma, in hard-hats, trooping around a construction site -- which generated a number of wistful looks.  I knew many of the men were from out of town, so I didn't think too much about it, until Manny came home that evening.

He came in, gathered the boys in his arms, and said, "I realized today that not only do I have one of the best jobs out there, I have the best family.  Most of those men you met today have been divorced three times.  Their children are in different states, and mine are all right here, with me.  I get to enjoy each and everyone of you when I come home.  I also have the prettiest wife."

I jokingly asked him if he had met all of their wives.  He responded, "Most of them are divorced and don't plan to ever marry again.  You've been with me through it all."

...it is good to realize how blessed we are...

The Grand Tetons, as seen from the Moose Visitor Center.

Willing to Lose

They say you can't steal second, with your foot on first, and of course, they are right.  But lately I have been wondering if one can do anything without risking something.  Just think about it for a moment.  When you walk, what must you do to go forward?  That's right, you have to get off balance and then you have to fall.  If you are never off balance, you will only shuffle along, and unless you are dancing, who wants to shuffle?

For the past 10 months, I have been working at making some major changes in my life.  At first, it was a sorting process.  Deciding what to keep and what to let go of.  Then it became a question of, what do I really want?  What is worth fighting for and what is not?  But answering those questions was not enough.

I finally had to face the crux.  What is most important?  If I only accomplish one thing in this life, what do I want it to be?  And then, I made the hardest decision of my life.  I chose my children over my marriage.

Growing up, all through college and for the first dozen years of my marriage, I swore I would never be one of those women who put her children above her husband.  But when I looked at what was most important in life, I saw that the well being of these little people who depended on me mattered more than anything else I could do.  The men they grew to be was more important my happiness.

It was in March when I realized this.  And it took me about another month to decide I was willing to move forward.  A month of wondering, 'If I do what I think is best, will I destroy my marriage?'

I had spent 12 years doing my best to follow my husband's leading, but it had left me more lost than ever.  It had left him lost too.  One evening in April, he came to me and said, "I've been married to you for a dozen years, and what do I have to show for it?  Our lives are a mess.  Our children are a mess.  Our home is a mess.  What are we doing?  We can't go on like this."

It was then I realized that if I didn't do something, my marriage and my children would be lost.  So I stepped out.  Not in a bad way, but in a bold way.  I told him up front that I was going to do things my way and that I did not want his input, furthermore, I was going to revert to the ideals I had at 17--at least back then I knew what I wanted out of life!

He, of course, wasn't too sure about all of this.  We had met when I was 17, and was a bit of a wild child--for his taste.  But I did my best to recall that girl I use to be, and to move on with the knowledge I had once had of child raising and being small.

The next month was one of the best months I had ever had.  I accomplished things without criticism.  I interacted with my children the way I had longed to for years.  My confidence grew with each string I tied with my children.  I felt like our home was finally going to be the happy place I longed for it to be.  Procrastination and fear were ever present--they had been my companions for year, and old habits are hard to shake--but things were improving. 

Then, shortly after our thirteenth anniversary, in May, it all came crashing down.  I made the mistake of telling my husband how happy I was.  His response?  "I've been biting my tongue for a month, and you're finally happy?"

Ouch.

It wasn't meant to be an insult.  Just a progress report.  The fight went from bad to worse, until I felt like the most worthless human being on the face of this planet. 

That night, I talked to a friend online.  He is older and divorced.  He kept insisting, "You don't love your husband.  I know what you are going through.  I was in the same place you are when I was your age."

I kept insisting that he was wrong, that I did love my husband.  I didn't know what else to do.  My marriage was (and is) the most important relationship in my life, but I also knew I was willing to give it up for the sake of my children, if that is what it took to grow them into productive adults.  I had to wonder if he was right...

This song, Same Old Lang Syne, made me wonder more...

"She would have liked to say she loved the man, but she didn't like to lie."

 It really weighed on me.  Was I just fooling myself, when I said I loved him?  Was it simply habit or sentiment that made me think that way?

After our fight, he went back to biting his tongue and I went on with my scheme, wondering if we were going to make it or not.  After a couple more months, I had a very vivid day dream that put everything in perspective for me.

It was of our family on a mountain road, heading for Pinedale.  My husband was running ahead, exploring every side trail.  I was following along, herding the children along the path.  Every now and then, my husband would reappear, to tell me of things that were ahead.  He would make all kinds of suggestions of 'fun things' I could do with the kids... but doing them was never fun.
There were lots of bad attitudes amongst the children, and my attitude was one of drudgery.  I don't mind mountain trails, with my love, but I do mind walking them alone, or worse yet, with five grumpy children.  I hated setting up camp every evening, knowing that it would just be torn down the next morning, just to do the same thing over again.  I kept thinking of the vehicle parked at the trail head, and my well marked map showing the route to Pinedale.
Finally, enough was enough.  I told hubby, "You have fun taking this route, and don't worry about us.  We'll meet you there."  Then I left him the supplies he would need and took the children back to the vehicle.  I pulled out my map and made my plans, then took off driving.   Traveling a road I was confident in.

I knew my husband and I had the same goals a dreams when we got married, but somehow we had gotten terribly off track.  He said I was impossible to lead.  I said he was impossible to follow.  Traveling the way each of us knew best made sense to me.  So we may not always be together?  It wasn't like we were together before.  And his concern for the children was as great as mine.

The question of love still bothered me though.  So what if we could give our children a great life, if we really didn't love each other?

As I was contemplating this, a song from Fiddler on the Roof came to mind:



Tevye asks his wife if she loves him.  She answers very practically.

"Do I love you?
For twenty-five years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children, milked the cow
After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?
. . .
Do I love him?
For twenty-five years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-five years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?"

I realized that arranged marriages did and do work, because there was a commitment to treat the other person right.  And I knew my husband and I had that commitment.   

Maybe we weren't in love.  Maybe things weren't perfect.  It didn't mean we couldn't make the most of what we had.  It had been several months since our fight that left me feeling worthless, and in that time I had been able to observe that though we had problems, we had good things too.  I decided right then and there to make the good things great, make the mediocre things good and ignore the rest for as long as possible.  So what if we couldn't carry on a normal conversation.  Is talking really that important?

And you know what?  It made a difference.  As I worked to make the good things great, he fell more and more in love with me.   His feelings changed, and with it, his outlook.

With every step I have accomplished in remodeling the kitchen, he has realized how little he understood me.  Even with pictures torn form magazines, drawings and dimensional plans, he hadn't caught the vision.  What I have produced (which is exactly what I wanted) was not at all what he had envisioned.  Furthermore, he loves what I am doing.  For months, before I began, he did his best to convince me that I would hate the finished product and tried to talk me into giving the idea up.  Now he is glad I didn't.

Things are not perfect, and they never will be, but as of now, I'm standing on second.  I had to let go of first in order to gain it.  For a while, I thought I might lose it all, but with this gain, I have realized that doing nothing is like planning to lose.  You can't win a game while playing it safe.  With every move you make, you have to be willing to give up stability in order to move forward.  And falling doesn't mean failing.  Sometimes, it is just motion.  When I clung to my marriage with everything I had, I almost destroyed it.  When I let go and let be, things came together.

~*~*~*~*~*~

As I was writing this up, hubby came to tell me goodnight.  He said, "I love you.  I am so glad you are getting the confidence you need."

And you know what?  Those weren't empty words.  And I love him too.

Snake River Canyon Mudslide

May 21, 2011

The last mudslide in this canyon was 14 years ago.  One year before I moved to this area.

I have always loved watching big machines work.  Even more, I love how the earth dwarfs them.

The task ahead is massive.

Even with the machines.  Can you imagine what cleaning up something like this would be like, without machines?  Perhaps this photo will give you a better idea:

Other sights of the day:

Rafters watch the clean up process from below the mudslide.

As the snow melted, the guard rail sunk down below the level of the road.

The road is closed!  Skip! Skip! Skip!

And one more thing you normally can't do!

It is funny how a natural disaster can provide such a fun family outing and allow one to meet neighbors they are normally too busy for.