Christmas Update

Christmas hasn't killed me..
So far anyway.

And the other morning when I came out and turned the lights on for the Christmas tree I thought, "Oh! How pretty!"

It clearly is The Season of Hope....

Christmas Is Relentless

I think Christmas is trying to kill me.

Seriously.

Here I am, not really in the mood for a lot of HO-HO-HO-ing, just trying to mind my own business and get through it. Actually, my first instinct was to avoid Christmas all together; run away. Anything to not have to deal with the reality of hanging only four stockings instead of five. I had even offered a bribe to my children, suggesting we skip Christmas this year and go to Cabo instead. My treat. Or Hawaii. I hear it’s lovely this time of year.

The leaning Christmas Tree

They weren’t going for it. Nope, no way. Not even with all expenses paid.

“Always going to be a Worst First,” my oldest said. “Might as well just get it over with.”

I could see the validity of his argument and reluctantly agreed. Secretly though I thought I could ignore Christmas. Don’t look and it won’t hurt, right? Just going to stick my head in the sand.

But Christmas is RELENTLESS. Just try and ignore it, Christmas will hunt you down. I’m not playing any Christmas music this year but everybody else is. Restaurants, elevators---no matter where you go Christmas will find you. 

Bah. And Humbug.

I know my attitude needs adjusting. I know I need to “cowgirl up.” So I’m trying. I dug out a few decorations for the house and put them around, will decorate a tree---eventually. I’m even considering sending Christmas cards and our “annual” letter, but we’ll see how that goes. Even on a good year the “annual” letter has been known to go AWOL.

Why we can't have nice things: BAD CATZ!

So, to all of you out there full of good cheer—good for you. I hope your holidays are magical. And to all of you---all of US-- out there who are limping through this season, dragging our broken and battered hearts behind us, may this season be one of peace. A season in which we can calm and quiet our hearts, recognize the love that surrounds us, and find a way to continue forward.

Peace.

Misery Loves Company

Misery loves company. That’s true, but not in the way you might be thinking.

Traditionally I’ve always thought of the statement ‘misery loves company’ as a negative one. It’s something you say about those die hard complaint-niks. You know the people that sit around endlessly complaining about their problems: taxes, crabgrass, hangnails and the like.

I think is more truthful though when we are talking about true misery---about grief and loss—to say that misery not only loves company, it requires it.

Ever since my husband was killed in a car accident in January, I’ve found solace in the company of others who speak grief’s unspoken language. There is peace in just being with people to whom loss is not an abstract theory; they KNOW. They know what it’s like to be “fine” one moment and gutted the next. They know what it’s like to navigate life with a gaping hole in the middle of what used to be your heart; it’s hard to remember to put on pants, feed the dog, or get out of the shower. They know how tiring it is to go out in public, to stay upright, to respond appropriately. Everything hurts. Everything.

It is an amazing, humbling thing to see these people who have lost so much reach out and pull me into their world, to hold me close and show me the ropes. It’s like we are all members of a club that nobody wants to join and yet if it weren’t for my fellow club members the world would be a very bleak place indeed. I don’t have to have known them “Before” to know them well now. Grief is our common denominator and we are finding our way through together. Even though our paths may be very different there is a commonality that binds us, bonds us and brings us at least a measure of comfort.

So yeah, misery loves company. Very much.

Bed Time

It is closing in on that time of year when a gardener's thoughts turn to tucking the garden away for winter...

Or, in my case, when a gardener's thoughts turn to reasonable excuses for not tucking the garden away. As I’ve said I HATE not having a reasonable excuse ready and, instead, have to rely on outright avoidance.

I firmly believe that leaving a few sharp stalks of last summer's phlox will discourage the elk from attempting to eat the tender new growth this spring. That’s what I tell myself anyway, when I look out on gray November days at the scraggly mess adorning the landscape.

This year the scraggly mess was on track to be epic as all outside activates in the garden came to a halt when the hot water tank demanded my total attention. Fortunately for me the elk did not waver in their dedication to keeping things trimmed back. I did take note, however, that even in their enthusiasm to leave no flower behind they did not eat the phlox stalks. Phlox flowers and leaves yes, but the stalks are still standing.

Perfect. I can now claim my neglected garden is not neglected at all but merely a result of scientific inquiry, part of the scientific method; my garden is clearly the control group in my study of Phlox Stalks as Winter Elk Deterrent. Add a few more multisyllabic words to that title and I’m pretty sure I could find some grant money to aid in my research.

I may be on to something here...

Zen and the Art of Home Repair

I have spent the last seven weeks dealing with the sudden and dramatic demise of an aged water heater and the resulting deluge. Said deluge that necessitated the tearing out and removal of all of the flooring; and the packing away into approximately 3,847 boxes –give or take the odd dozen boxes---of “stuff” and “things”.

My life, clearly, was in upheaval.

Oddly though, it wasn’t as upsetting as you might imagine. For one thing, it was just “stuff” and “things.” And none of the things that were damaged where of the irreplaceable, precious variety. I lost no pictures or keepsakes or any of the things that are dear beyond price. Everything that was damaged was just a “thing.” Shane would have told me, “You can always buy more ‘things’. You were probably in search of a ‘thing’ when you bought that one, so buy another. They make more ‘things’ every day.” Wise words, and true.

And as for the upheaval—it felt like my “outsides” finally matched my “insides.” It felt as though my house was just reflecting everything my heart had been experiencing over these last nine months. It felt kind of “normal” actually.

And now I find myself in a rebuilding phase, literally and metaphorically. The old, the known, and the comfortable have been stripped away and it is up to me to recreate my home, to refurnish my life, to decorate my soul. It is both terrifying and exhilarating.  

Because Life? It goes on.  

                     

It goes on.

StrawBaleFinale

The results of the Great Straw Bale Experiment 2015 are in:

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a harvest!

I grew green beans, tomatoes, cukes, pumpkins---and I can say pumpkins, plural, because I got two—carrots, some onions and potatoes. The onions and potatoes I had totally forgotten I planted until just this moment so I honestly can’t say how they flourished. I shall have to dig into my bales and see.

The literature claims you don’t have to ever weed your straw bale but that was not true in my case. I don’t know if the wind blew the seeds in or if bomb dropping birds are to blame ,but I did have random weeds sprout up in my bales. Still, it wasn’t hard to pluck them. After all, you don’t have to bend over that far to get them.

When the elk ninja-ed my garden earlier in the summer, their tugging and pulling on my veggies caused some of the bales to slump over a little, but not bad enough to affect the veggies growth. (Stupid elk.)

The very best thing about my straw bale garden was having all that zucchini to menace my friends with. Did I say menace? I meant SHARE. I loved being the one to drop zucchini off on somebody’s porch...it was AWESOME!

Would I do it again? I think so! It was easy, fun and we did manage to wrangle a harvest away from the elk. Next time I want to plant more marigolds along the sides of the bales, I really liked the way it looked. And I think I might wrap a hot electric wire along the perimeter to keep the beasties at bay...