I intended to finish this post in time to join in the Ten Things of Thankful blog hop, but then the energy I would have spent on blogging went to working on the photo albums.
Thanks to the Sorta Awesome podcast, I've been thinking more about energy, how much I have, and how I choose the spend it. No answers yet, but I feel like I'm close to some new insights. I might write more about that later.
In the meantime, here are ten things I'm thankful for this month.
1. Safe travels
We had a lot of travel this month. Oldest son traveled back to his final semester of college. The rest of us went to Boston for a convention we attend every year. I flew straight from there to Austin for work, while Michael drove home with the kids, got them settled, and then left the next morning for Ecuador. Then I flew home from Austin at the end of the week. Amazingly, all the trips went smoothly.
2. Helpful friends and neighbors
Although our twins are 18 and responsible enough for us to leave the kids home alone, none of them drive yet, so my work trip was only possible because friends and neighbors helped with transportation, mostly for Kid 4, who had skiing and basketball while I was gone.
3. Responsible kids
I'm sure media consumption was through the roof while we were gone, but I appreciate how responsible our kids are.
4. Good books
I'm shifting my reading habits a bit this year--giving myself permission to abandon highly rated books that aren't clicking with me at this time--and so far I've really enjoyed the books I've finished. So far, I've read Until I Say Goodbye, When Breath Becomes Air, and Killers of the Flower Moon, as well as an unfinished novel. I dipped my toes in several books before settling on The Bear and the Nightingale as my current read.
5. Yoga
I've been working to incorporate a more regular nighttime yoga practice. My record is spotty, but when I manage to do even 10 minutes, I find my back feels so much better.
6. Good shows
The need for a good binge-watch has been building for a couple of months, and January seemed a good time to indulge. I loved The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (although if you're reading this and you're related to me, I wouldn't recommend it), and I've started The Crown.
7. Being able to predict which beer I will like
This is, admittedly, a small thing. But I have finally figured out how to look at a beer menu and know which one I will enjoy.
8. Escape rooms
The six of us tried one over Thanksgiving and had a great time, although we didn't escape. When I was in Austin, I went to one with a group of coworkers, and we beat the room! Although we discovered at the end that one of the things that we were supposed to need a combination for was dummy locked, and opened when one of the guys pulled on it just to see. These could turn into an expensive habit.
9. Scented candles
Michael gave me a delicious scented candle for Christmas, and I like it so much that I bought another in a different scent from the same company. It's a great winter mood lifter, and it has zero calories!
10.My standing desk converter
Years ago, I looked for one of these and didn't find any, but the market has since caught up, and for less than $150 I bought a wooden platform that I can raise or lower to convert my desk from sitting height to standing height. I enjoy alternating positions during my workday, and my back feels much better at the end of my day.
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
Sunday, January 7, 2018
No and Yes: New Year
Hat tip to The Simple Show for giving me the No and Yes framework. Also, if you haven't seen The Lazy Genius post on How to Set Goals Like a Normal Person, I highly recommend it. I found it after I had set my plan for this year, but there's wisdom for future years.
Things I say No to about the new year
Staying up until midnight
I'm a lark, not a night owl, and I've finally realized that doesn't magically change on New Year's Eve. Staying up until midnight inevitably leads to me starting the new year feeling sluggish, which totally loves the clean slate, fresh start feeling I so appreciate.Strict resolutions
I struggle with any goal that requires me to do something every day. I'm just not able to give myself grace when I stumble, as I know I will. Strict resolutions ensure that I will feel like a failure by about January 3.Lots of resolutions
As I've written before, I used to plan to completely reform all aspects of my life each January 1. Eventually, I clued into the reality that I was setting the same resolutions every year, so clearly this wasn't working.Not doing anything
There have been years when I haven't set any resolutions or intentions or goals at all for the new year, and although I'm confident that was the right call for those years, it's not the right call for this year.Word of the Year
I tried it, honestly I did. For 2017, my word (OK, phrase) was Mindful Order. I did spend part of the year working on order and mindfulness, but overall I found having a word for the year insufficiently inspiring. When I look back on 2017, I am dissatisfied with my personal growth. There's the possibility that I just picked a bad word, but 2017 was the most successful of my attempts to have a word of the year, so I'm comfortable declaring this method is not effective for me right now.Things I say Yes to about the new year
Making it fun
I'm a regular listener of Happier with Gretchen Rubin, and on episode 149, Gretchen and Elizabeth talk about their "18 for 2018" lists--eighteen things they are planning to do in 2018. I thought this was a great cure for the dissatisfaction I felt with 2017, so I jumped on the bandwagon. My 18 things range from the ambitious to the silly, but I'm looking forward to all of them. (OK, except one. I am only looking forward to having painted the laundry room, not actually painting it.)Being very selective about habits
In addition to my 18 things, I am trying to add two new habits--one daily and one weekly--to my life this year. Two. Not twelve. And unlike some of my past habit goals, these are actually goals I want to accomplish, not goals I want to want to accomplish. Big difference.Focusing on the end of the year
In the past, when I set resolutions about habits, my thinking was always that I wanted to execute the new behavior perfectly from January 1 on. This year, I am focused on making the desired behaviors habitual by the end of the year. I've already missed one day in my daily habit. In the past, that would have discouraged me. Now, I just think, "Well, I've done this five days more than I did last week. I'm benefiting from those five days."Sunday, December 3, 2017
Ten things of thankful: First Sunday of Advent
A week ago today, I was on a plane returning from Thanksgiving in Utah. Today, I was shocked to realize that Christmas is three weeks from tomorrow.
1. Completely smooth travel on one of the busiest travel days of the year. Truly, our flights went off without a hitch, and although it was snowing when we landed late at night, the drive home was safely this side of white-knuckle. Even the deer milling around in the middle of the state highway didn't interrupt our travel for more than a minute.
2. Three of my four kids are now adults! At least on paper. Kid 2 and Kid 3 turned 18 on Monday. There have been days (mostly in those first couple of years) where getting us all to their 18th birthday with health and sanity intact seemed like a lofty goal, but we made it. Mostly. If you consider us sane. I know parenting doesn't end once they turn 18, but it does feel like an important milestone.
3. Watching Kid 4 play basketball. I have mixed feelings about adding this into our schedule, but he is having a great time playing on a team with his friends, and I love watching him. Plus, it's great exercise.
4. Spotify playlists. I've been a long-time Pandora listener, but the lure of seasonal playlists enticed me over to Spotify earlier in the fall. I created a Thanksgiving playlist (so easy! and you don't have to own the songs on your playlist!), and today I've been listening to an Advent playlist from one of my favorite podcasters.
5. Checking things off on the college list. Kid 3 is taking a gap year after high school, but Kid 2 has been deep in the application process all fall. This week, he turned in a couple of applications. It's nice to get some of them crossed off the list.
6. Attending the Messiah with Kid 3. Well, about half the Messiah. Apparently, the orchestra objects to performing the whole thing. (I don't blame them. Handel is liberal with the 16th notes for the violins.) This is our fifth year attending, and I enjoy it more each time. It's performed in a small Catholic church with great acoustics, and it's a very peaceful start to December.
7. The high school music concert. The music program at our high school is wonderful, and I always enjoy the band and choir concerts. Kid 2 and Kid 3 both sing tenor in the choir, and they did a great job.
8. Being home with Michael for the first time since mid-October. First, we had a weekend in Nashville with friends, then he was traveling for work, then we were in Utah for Thanksgiving. All good things, but it's nice to have some "normal" time again.
9. Kid 1 is coming home! He decided to return home after he finishes his final college class in a couple of weeks and stay here while looking for what he jokingly called "his big-boy job." I'm thrilled to have him home for the holidays, as it was looking like that wasn't going to happen this year.
10. Advent. My Christmas experience improved dramatically when I added Advent observance, and it continues to bring calm and peace to December. I'll (hopefully) blog more about Advent in the weeks ahead.
1. Completely smooth travel on one of the busiest travel days of the year. Truly, our flights went off without a hitch, and although it was snowing when we landed late at night, the drive home was safely this side of white-knuckle. Even the deer milling around in the middle of the state highway didn't interrupt our travel for more than a minute.
2. Three of my four kids are now adults! At least on paper. Kid 2 and Kid 3 turned 18 on Monday. There have been days (mostly in those first couple of years) where getting us all to their 18th birthday with health and sanity intact seemed like a lofty goal, but we made it. Mostly. If you consider us sane. I know parenting doesn't end once they turn 18, but it does feel like an important milestone.
3. Watching Kid 4 play basketball. I have mixed feelings about adding this into our schedule, but he is having a great time playing on a team with his friends, and I love watching him. Plus, it's great exercise.
4. Spotify playlists. I've been a long-time Pandora listener, but the lure of seasonal playlists enticed me over to Spotify earlier in the fall. I created a Thanksgiving playlist (so easy! and you don't have to own the songs on your playlist!), and today I've been listening to an Advent playlist from one of my favorite podcasters.
5. Checking things off on the college list. Kid 3 is taking a gap year after high school, but Kid 2 has been deep in the application process all fall. This week, he turned in a couple of applications. It's nice to get some of them crossed off the list.
6. Attending the Messiah with Kid 3. Well, about half the Messiah. Apparently, the orchestra objects to performing the whole thing. (I don't blame them. Handel is liberal with the 16th notes for the violins.) This is our fifth year attending, and I enjoy it more each time. It's performed in a small Catholic church with great acoustics, and it's a very peaceful start to December.
7. The high school music concert. The music program at our high school is wonderful, and I always enjoy the band and choir concerts. Kid 2 and Kid 3 both sing tenor in the choir, and they did a great job.
8. Being home with Michael for the first time since mid-October. First, we had a weekend in Nashville with friends, then he was traveling for work, then we were in Utah for Thanksgiving. All good things, but it's nice to have some "normal" time again.
9. Kid 1 is coming home! He decided to return home after he finishes his final college class in a couple of weeks and stay here while looking for what he jokingly called "his big-boy job." I'm thrilled to have him home for the holidays, as it was looking like that wasn't going to happen this year.
10. Advent. My Christmas experience improved dramatically when I added Advent observance, and it continues to bring calm and peace to December. I'll (hopefully) blog more about Advent in the weeks ahead.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
No and yes: senior year
I've half-dreaded this school year since my twins were born. I know from experience that senior year can be stressful with one child.
But trying to guide two kids through the college application process?
There is not enough chocolate in the world to cope with the stress, thought I. Thank goodness it's a long way off.
And then I blinked, and here we are.
But I was listening to The Simple Show a couple of weeks ago, and thought I would apply the No and Yes format to this situation.
In an attempt to head those exchanges off before they happen, I have declared Sundays at 1 PM our Hot Chocolate College Chats. One hour to focus on the college application process. If something occurs to me during the week, I am going to write it down and bring it up on Sunday.
But trying to guide two kids through the college application process?
There is not enough chocolate in the world to cope with the stress, thought I. Thank goodness it's a long way off.
And then I blinked, and here we are.
But I was listening to The Simple Show a couple of weeks ago, and thought I would apply the No and Yes format to this situation.
So, here are the things I say No to about the twins' senior year of high school:
Aggrandizing decisions
Where they go to school is important, but it is not The Big Decision of their lives. There is no One Right School that will magically give them a wonderful life that will be forever out of their reach if they go somewhere else.Letting the college search overshadow life
This is not only the year they apply to college, it is also their last year living at home. I want to enjoy it, and that means spending a lot of time talking about Anything But College.Ignoring Kid4 or my husband
Family life needs balance, and that can't happen if I become obsessed or overly stressed about the college search.Hiding
To somewhat counter everything above, the college application process does need to happen, and that means I need to stay engaged. Retreating to my room with a book, chocolate, and wine is not an approach that works long-term, although I fully expect I'll employ it at least once or twice.And here are the things I say Yes to about the twins' senior year of high school:
Scheduled check-ins
My kids loathe it when parents bring up stressful subjects without warning. Parent says something, kid reacts out of stress, parent reacts to the kid's stressed reaction, and so forth until everyone is stressed and angry.In an attempt to head those exchanges off before they happen, I have declared Sundays at 1 PM our Hot Chocolate College Chats. One hour to focus on the college application process. If something occurs to me during the week, I am going to write it down and bring it up on Sunday.
Automated nagging
We already have a family Google calendar, and I fully intend to use it for all college-admissions-related reminders. Let technology be the bad guy instead of me.Being involved
I want to be involved in this to the extent the kids will let me. Right now that mostly looks like facilitating college visits and helping with internet searches, but I expect I'll be reading essays before long.Enjoying our time together
I want to sink into this year and relish every moment of connection and joy.Monday, June 26, 2017
Ten things of thankful: Not moving edition
I learned on Wednesday morning that we will not be moving this summer as we had hoped.
We really wanted this move to come through. It truly seemed the best thing for us as a family and for my career. There were a lot of items in the Pro column, and we wanted those pros.
I devoted Wednesday afternoon to an intense internal temper tantrum and pity party. Thursday was spent wondering what this says about my relative value to my company. It was Friday before I could bring myself to tell extended family. And ever since, we've been trying to figure out What Comes Next.
But even on Wednesday afternoon, I was aware enough to know that this is not the end of the world. Many people I know and love are going through much, much, much worse. Seriously, this doesn't even make the list.
So, to help drive that point home, I challenged myself to come up with 10 things I am thankful for about not moving. I am writing this as I think. Let's see if I can get to 10.
1. My twins can graduate from high school with the kids they've gone to school with since preschool. I know! What kind of crazy parent moves her kids right before senior year? (The kind who thinks CA in-state tuition is a good thing.)
2. My youngest can finish elementary school with the kids he's gone to school with since kindergarten. They go on a sixth-grade trip in May and have a graduation ceremony in the evening with speeches and everything.
3. Another cross-country season. Here, as many kids as want to run can be on the cross-country team. The move would have put our kids at a much, much, much larger school. (Not hard to do.) The odds of them making the cut to be on a team were slim. I love our cross-country team, and I'm thrilled that Kid2 has another year. (Kid3 is considering not running this year.)
4. Another New England fall. Fall up here really is as amazing as the rumors say. I'm going to soak up every minute of it.
5. More time in my office. The office of this house is amazing. I know I will never have another office like it.
6. More wildlife. Although our creatures are nowhere near as tame as the deer on my parents' property (those guys are seriously blasé about humans), we've seen goshawks, turtles, bear, deer, beavers, porcupines, and owls. Not to mention all the frogs, salamanders, toads, squirrels, and chipmunks you could ever want.
7. More time to tick the last few boxes. Although it feels like we've done all the tourist things to death, due to the age spread of our kids, Kid4 either hasn't done some things or can't remember them.
8. Easier transition to driving for Kid2. We drive late on my side of the family, and so far, our kids are all taking after me. Kid2 has his permit, but not his license, and staying here for another year will give him time to develop his skills in a calm driving environment before tackling the big city.
9. Easier time zone for work. Even though the move would have put me in an office on a regular basis for the first time since 2003, I would have still spent a lot of time on the phone with people in other time zones. Eastern time works better for my natural rhythms. If I have quiet time, it's early in the morning, which is my best time for getting in the flow and working on key projects.
10. More breakfast dates with Michael. Typically, when we are both home, we go out to breakfast one morning a week. We're both morning people, and we both love breakfast food. Even though I hoped to work from home one or two days a week even after the move, breakfast dates would have been hard to schedule (see #9).
Hey! I made it. And I can think of a couple more good things about not moving this summer--like more time to declutter and finish home repair tasks before putting the house on the market, chatting with my husband in between meetings, and getting to wear comfy clothes every single day.
Again, not the Pros list I was hoping for, but I might as well try to enjoy the list Fate handed me.
We really wanted this move to come through. It truly seemed the best thing for us as a family and for my career. There were a lot of items in the Pro column, and we wanted those pros.
I devoted Wednesday afternoon to an intense internal temper tantrum and pity party. Thursday was spent wondering what this says about my relative value to my company. It was Friday before I could bring myself to tell extended family. And ever since, we've been trying to figure out What Comes Next.
But even on Wednesday afternoon, I was aware enough to know that this is not the end of the world. Many people I know and love are going through much, much, much worse. Seriously, this doesn't even make the list.
So, to help drive that point home, I challenged myself to come up with 10 things I am thankful for about not moving. I am writing this as I think. Let's see if I can get to 10.
1. My twins can graduate from high school with the kids they've gone to school with since preschool. I know! What kind of crazy parent moves her kids right before senior year? (The kind who thinks CA in-state tuition is a good thing.)
2. My youngest can finish elementary school with the kids he's gone to school with since kindergarten. They go on a sixth-grade trip in May and have a graduation ceremony in the evening with speeches and everything.
3. Another cross-country season. Here, as many kids as want to run can be on the cross-country team. The move would have put our kids at a much, much, much larger school. (Not hard to do.) The odds of them making the cut to be on a team were slim. I love our cross-country team, and I'm thrilled that Kid2 has another year. (Kid3 is considering not running this year.)
4. Another New England fall. Fall up here really is as amazing as the rumors say. I'm going to soak up every minute of it.
5. More time in my office. The office of this house is amazing. I know I will never have another office like it.
6. More wildlife. Although our creatures are nowhere near as tame as the deer on my parents' property (those guys are seriously blasé about humans), we've seen goshawks, turtles, bear, deer, beavers, porcupines, and owls. Not to mention all the frogs, salamanders, toads, squirrels, and chipmunks you could ever want.
7. More time to tick the last few boxes. Although it feels like we've done all the tourist things to death, due to the age spread of our kids, Kid4 either hasn't done some things or can't remember them.
8. Easier transition to driving for Kid2. We drive late on my side of the family, and so far, our kids are all taking after me. Kid2 has his permit, but not his license, and staying here for another year will give him time to develop his skills in a calm driving environment before tackling the big city.
9. Easier time zone for work. Even though the move would have put me in an office on a regular basis for the first time since 2003, I would have still spent a lot of time on the phone with people in other time zones. Eastern time works better for my natural rhythms. If I have quiet time, it's early in the morning, which is my best time for getting in the flow and working on key projects.
10. More breakfast dates with Michael. Typically, when we are both home, we go out to breakfast one morning a week. We're both morning people, and we both love breakfast food. Even though I hoped to work from home one or two days a week even after the move, breakfast dates would have been hard to schedule (see #9).
Hey! I made it. And I can think of a couple more good things about not moving this summer--like more time to declutter and finish home repair tasks before putting the house on the market, chatting with my husband in between meetings, and getting to wear comfy clothes every single day.
Again, not the Pros list I was hoping for, but I might as well try to enjoy the list Fate handed me.
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Ten things of thankful: Summer arrived!
After a very long wait (see my previous post), we are basking in summer. In fact, I am writing this post on my deck.
After the office, the deck is my favorite part of this house. Now that the trees have fulled leafed, it is in shade all day long, so I don't need to worry about sunburns. There is a hammock for naps, a comfy chair for when I want to sit upright, and a great view of the bird feeder.
I also love the sounds from the deck: the brook across the road, the bamboo wind chimes, and the birds, including the neighbors' chickens and ducks.
Right now, our lilacs are having their best year ever, and the scent is heavy in the air, especially when the wind blows.
This has been a great year for flowers all around. In some cases we know why--Michael gave the lilac bushes an aggressive pruning two years ago--but others are a mystery. What made the apple trees so beautiful this spring? Why did more daffodils bloom this year? As we move from spring into summer, it appears that every blooming plant is having a great year.
I'm trying to enjoy it and not erode some of the joy by thinking, "I bet next year is going to be a real disappointment." (For those of you wondering about the move, we still don't have an official answer, but it's beginning to feel physically impossible to move cross-country before school starts. Can you even book movers on this short notice?)
For the second year, our bird feeder has attracted a wider variety of birds than we saw when we first got here. Among the more colorful and amusing: goldfinches, cardinals, nuthatches, and purple finches.The indigo sadly didn't stick around our yard, but I caught a flash of him on my walk the other day.
One of the things I don't like about where we live is how buggy it can get in the summer. Bugs love me. I taste great, and my wardrobe contains a lot of blue, which they are attracted to. I started the summer trying to tough it out, going without bug spray or using the natural stuff I got at the farmers' market last year. Which smells great, but doesn't seem to actually keep the bugs off. A few days ago, when I realized I was sitting inside because I didn't want anymore itchy bites, I went rummaging and found a container of Off Deep Woods. I haven't had a bite since.
I love the play of light through the trees. Whether I'm on the deck or in the house, life has an underwater feel during the summer.
Of course, there's a downside to having your forty-year-old cedar-shingled house surrounded by tall trees. Some areas of the siding have been nagging at me, and this week we had contractors come fix the worst of the areas. They'll be fixing two more areas in the weeks ahead. I get a jolt of pleasure every time I see the new shingles.
I almost wrote an entire post of thankfuls about my dad, since this is Father's Day, but as I thought of the things I would include, I realized it sounded very familiar. So, go read this post from 2013.
And I'm thankful for Michael, who is such a great dad to our kids. The teen years can be hard, and they don't make as much use of some of his strengths as the earlier parenting years (he's a rock star at parenting babies and toddlers), but he is constantly thinking of them and their future and the world we are creating for them to live in. And more immediately, when it's my turn to cook and I ask the kids what they want to eat for dinner, inevitably the first four things each kid mentions are things in Michael's repertoire, not mine.
And now I'm going to try to link up to the blog hop, which I'm embarrassingly bad at.
After the office, the deck is my favorite part of this house. Now that the trees have fulled leafed, it is in shade all day long, so I don't need to worry about sunburns. There is a hammock for naps, a comfy chair for when I want to sit upright, and a great view of the bird feeder.
I also love the sounds from the deck: the brook across the road, the bamboo wind chimes, and the birds, including the neighbors' chickens and ducks.
Right now, our lilacs are having their best year ever, and the scent is heavy in the air, especially when the wind blows.
This has been a great year for flowers all around. In some cases we know why--Michael gave the lilac bushes an aggressive pruning two years ago--but others are a mystery. What made the apple trees so beautiful this spring? Why did more daffodils bloom this year? As we move from spring into summer, it appears that every blooming plant is having a great year.
I'm trying to enjoy it and not erode some of the joy by thinking, "I bet next year is going to be a real disappointment." (For those of you wondering about the move, we still don't have an official answer, but it's beginning to feel physically impossible to move cross-country before school starts. Can you even book movers on this short notice?)
For the second year, our bird feeder has attracted a wider variety of birds than we saw when we first got here. Among the more colorful and amusing: goldfinches, cardinals, nuthatches, and purple finches.The indigo sadly didn't stick around our yard, but I caught a flash of him on my walk the other day.
One of the things I don't like about where we live is how buggy it can get in the summer. Bugs love me. I taste great, and my wardrobe contains a lot of blue, which they are attracted to. I started the summer trying to tough it out, going without bug spray or using the natural stuff I got at the farmers' market last year. Which smells great, but doesn't seem to actually keep the bugs off. A few days ago, when I realized I was sitting inside because I didn't want anymore itchy bites, I went rummaging and found a container of Off Deep Woods. I haven't had a bite since.
I love the play of light through the trees. Whether I'm on the deck or in the house, life has an underwater feel during the summer.
Of course, there's a downside to having your forty-year-old cedar-shingled house surrounded by tall trees. Some areas of the siding have been nagging at me, and this week we had contractors come fix the worst of the areas. They'll be fixing two more areas in the weeks ahead. I get a jolt of pleasure every time I see the new shingles.
I almost wrote an entire post of thankfuls about my dad, since this is Father's Day, but as I thought of the things I would include, I realized it sounded very familiar. So, go read this post from 2013.
And I'm thankful for Michael, who is such a great dad to our kids. The teen years can be hard, and they don't make as much use of some of his strengths as the earlier parenting years (he's a rock star at parenting babies and toddlers), but he is constantly thinking of them and their future and the world we are creating for them to live in. And more immediately, when it's my turn to cook and I ask the kids what they want to eat for dinner, inevitably the first four things each kid mentions are things in Michael's repertoire, not mine.
And now I'm going to try to link up to the blog hop, which I'm embarrassingly bad at.
Sunday, June 4, 2017
Summer will come eventually, right?
I am not a fan of hot weather. One of the things I love about where I live is that it never gets hot. It has literally never reached 100 degrees here since they started recording temperatures.
However.
It's June.
A daily high above 69 doesn't seem too much to ask, does it? We had a high of 70 one day last week, and the forecast shows 70 as the high this coming Saturday, but our projected high tomorrow, the 5th of June, is 59. Fifty-nine.
And, although I have the webbed feet you would expect from someone born and raised in Oregon, even I get tired of this much rain in the summer.
If I weren't aware that the world does not revolve around me, it would be tempting to draw a parallel between summer's extreme tardiness in arriving and my company's extreme tardiness in deciding whether we will be moving this summer.
But humans can only live poised on the knife of uncertainty and the unknown for so long before they fall over to one side or the other.
So, despite the weather, and despite the uncertainty, we are starting to make plans for summer, in the hope that the sun will break out, and clarity will come.
The twins are each taking a college class this summer. We've tentatively blocked out a week for a family vacation, and a destination for a couple's weekend getaway. There's an outdoor concert I want to attend, and I'm 90% sure I want to train for a 5k.
But I have decided not to plant tomatoes, even though we're finally past our last frost date.
The way this summer is looking, it's doubtful I would even get one to ripen.
I'm pretty sure you need sun for that. And temps over 69.
However.
It's June.
A daily high above 69 doesn't seem too much to ask, does it? We had a high of 70 one day last week, and the forecast shows 70 as the high this coming Saturday, but our projected high tomorrow, the 5th of June, is 59. Fifty-nine.
And, although I have the webbed feet you would expect from someone born and raised in Oregon, even I get tired of this much rain in the summer.
If I weren't aware that the world does not revolve around me, it would be tempting to draw a parallel between summer's extreme tardiness in arriving and my company's extreme tardiness in deciding whether we will be moving this summer.
But humans can only live poised on the knife of uncertainty and the unknown for so long before they fall over to one side or the other.
So, despite the weather, and despite the uncertainty, we are starting to make plans for summer, in the hope that the sun will break out, and clarity will come.
The twins are each taking a college class this summer. We've tentatively blocked out a week for a family vacation, and a destination for a couple's weekend getaway. There's an outdoor concert I want to attend, and I'm 90% sure I want to train for a 5k.
But I have decided not to plant tomatoes, even though we're finally past our last frost date.
The way this summer is looking, it's doubtful I would even get one to ripen.
I'm pretty sure you need sun for that. And temps over 69.
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Mindful order
At the end of last year, I decided to join the people who pick a word or phrase for the year, instead of setting resolutions. My phrase was Mindful Order.
Order because there are some areas of my life that are less organized than I would like, and the disorder causes me persistent low-level stress.
Mindful because if I get too focused on order, I can overreact to things like socks left on the kitchen stool. (When the kids were younger, I used to dream of moving to someplace warm enough for the kids to wear sandals all year long so we could eliminate socks entirely.)
I wanted to remind myself that often (always?), choosing to play Settlers of Catan on a Saturday afternoon is a better use of time than organizing a cabinet.
Over the winter, I focused on getting all the loose photos into the photo albums and made some progress on consolidating some investment accounts to give me fewer things to keep an eye on.
The last two weeks, I've started reducing the amount of paperwork we have filed. Depending on how you look at it, I am either very good or very bad at keeping papers. The paperwork is organized. With rare exceptions, I can put my hands on the piece of paper I need in a matter of minutes. But I am very bad at letting go of papers.
In our current house, this isn't that big of a deal, because we have plenty of storage, but as we look ahead to downsizing (either this summer or next), I know I'd be happier with less paper to store.
So I've begun switching us to electronic statements on various accounts. Frankly, I should have done this years ago.
We unfortunately need to keep a lot of records because of tax deductions (my husband is self-employed and works from home), but I've been downloading as many as I can still get online and backing them up, and then shredding the paper copies.
And there are a lot of papers we don't need to keep at all. (For example, statements of benefits from health care visits 9 years and three insurance companies ago.)
I'm currently very fond of 1) my shredder and 2) curbside recycling.
Order because there are some areas of my life that are less organized than I would like, and the disorder causes me persistent low-level stress.
Mindful because if I get too focused on order, I can overreact to things like socks left on the kitchen stool. (When the kids were younger, I used to dream of moving to someplace warm enough for the kids to wear sandals all year long so we could eliminate socks entirely.)
I wanted to remind myself that often (always?), choosing to play Settlers of Catan on a Saturday afternoon is a better use of time than organizing a cabinet.
Over the winter, I focused on getting all the loose photos into the photo albums and made some progress on consolidating some investment accounts to give me fewer things to keep an eye on.
The last two weeks, I've started reducing the amount of paperwork we have filed. Depending on how you look at it, I am either very good or very bad at keeping papers. The paperwork is organized. With rare exceptions, I can put my hands on the piece of paper I need in a matter of minutes. But I am very bad at letting go of papers.
In our current house, this isn't that big of a deal, because we have plenty of storage, but as we look ahead to downsizing (either this summer or next), I know I'd be happier with less paper to store.
So I've begun switching us to electronic statements on various accounts. Frankly, I should have done this years ago.
We unfortunately need to keep a lot of records because of tax deductions (my husband is self-employed and works from home), but I've been downloading as many as I can still get online and backing them up, and then shredding the paper copies.
And there are a lot of papers we don't need to keep at all. (For example, statements of benefits from health care visits 9 years and three insurance companies ago.)
I'm currently very fond of 1) my shredder and 2) curbside recycling.
Saturday, April 15, 2017
These are the days of . . . (Winter 2017 edition)
I wish I could remember where I saw this post format, but it seemed the perfect way to capture the overall mood of an season.
I know for most of you, we're well past winter, but I still have ice on the pond and patches of snow in the shadiest parts of my lawn, so I'm declaring it not too late to blog about winter.
So, in no particular order, these are the days of . . .
Candles
I went searching for better ways to use candles and discovered two winners. In the living room, I set a group of white pillar candles in a circular wooden tray with deep sides and then filled the tray with coffee beans. The lit candles warm the beans and release the wonderful smell of coffee into the air. And the coffee beans protect the bowl from the melted wax. In the dining room, I found a glass trifle dish at a second-hand store, filled the bottom with salt, and placed a group of the same pillar candles in the bowl.
I also put a candle in my room so I can read by candlelight.
Uncertainty
There is a potential cross-country move related to my work that has been on-again, off-again for months. One of the challenges of this winter has been to stay present in the here-and-now while also mentally preparing for the move.
Buffy
I introduced Kid2 and Kid4 to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and we managed to get into season 5 before it went off Netflix. I love this show, and it was super fun to share it with the boys and see them appreciate it.
Machu Picchu
I have wanted to visit Machu Picchu ever since elementary school, when Heather showed us pictures from the National Geographic. This winter, I finally got to go. It was a magical day, despite getting soaked even with my rain coat. It was the culmination of a week of Inca ruins, each grander than the next. We hiked Wayna Picchu in the morning for some amazing views, and then spent the afternoon exploring the ruins. The combination of natural grandeur and archeological splendor does not disappoint.
Big Fish
Kid2 and Kid3 were in our high school's product of Big Fish. Kid3 had enough lines that he got a microphone, which was a new theater experience. The show was amazing, as always, and we are almost caught up on the sleep we lost during production week.
I know for most of you, we're well past winter, but I still have ice on the pond and patches of snow in the shadiest parts of my lawn, so I'm declaring it not too late to blog about winter.
So, in no particular order, these are the days of . . .
Candles
I went searching for better ways to use candles and discovered two winners. In the living room, I set a group of white pillar candles in a circular wooden tray with deep sides and then filled the tray with coffee beans. The lit candles warm the beans and release the wonderful smell of coffee into the air. And the coffee beans protect the bowl from the melted wax. In the dining room, I found a glass trifle dish at a second-hand store, filled the bottom with salt, and placed a group of the same pillar candles in the bowl.
I also put a candle in my room so I can read by candlelight.
Uncertainty
There is a potential cross-country move related to my work that has been on-again, off-again for months. One of the challenges of this winter has been to stay present in the here-and-now while also mentally preparing for the move.
Buffy
I introduced Kid2 and Kid4 to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and we managed to get into season 5 before it went off Netflix. I love this show, and it was super fun to share it with the boys and see them appreciate it.
Machu Picchu
I have wanted to visit Machu Picchu ever since elementary school, when Heather showed us pictures from the National Geographic. This winter, I finally got to go. It was a magical day, despite getting soaked even with my rain coat. It was the culmination of a week of Inca ruins, each grander than the next. We hiked Wayna Picchu in the morning for some amazing views, and then spent the afternoon exploring the ruins. The combination of natural grandeur and archeological splendor does not disappoint.
Big Fish
Kid2 and Kid3 were in our high school's product of Big Fish. Kid3 had enough lines that he got a microphone, which was a new theater experience. The show was amazing, as always, and we are almost caught up on the sleep we lost during production week.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Ten things of thankful: almost Christmas
No, I haven't gone away again. The gap in posting was a combination of lethargy, fun weekend plans, end-of-year work projects, and computer issues.
Here's what's making my smile this week.
1. Studded snow tires. Seriously. These things rock. It only took me two tries to get up the icy driveway coming back from church today.
2. Live Christmas music
and
3. A new twist on tradition. Every year, Michael and I attend a Christmas concert by a brass quintet and a choral octet. It is one of the highlights of the season for me. This year, he was going to be away for the concert, so I roped the kids into going. They were great company, although Kid 4 fell asleep after intermission.
4. Warm cinnamon-roll bread. Someone delivered two loaves to a Boy Scout work party I was helping supervise. Yummy, especially on a snowy morning.
5. Our Christmas tree. The kids and I picked out a Fraser fir this year, and it has been the best-smelling tree we've ever had. It looks good, too, but let's face it, the smell is the main reason to wrestle a 12-foot combination of sap and needles into a tree stand.
6. Treats by mail. One of Michael's clients sent him some delicious treats in the mail. Some of which were clearly labeled, "Refrigeration not recommended. Eat within three days." Is it my fault he's going to be away for longer than that? Surely such high-quality creations deserve to be enjoyed at their best, even if not by the intended recipient? (We put one of the pies in the freezer for Michael to enjoy, and some of the treats can easily wait until he's back.)
7. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Although I've found to my dismay that Kid 4 seems to have outgrown having me read Christmas picture books to him (although I've seen him reading them to himself), he did still want me to read this chapter book aloud. We read it every year, and I always choke up at the end.
8. Electricity.
and
9. Fireplaces. We lost power for 5 hours on Thursday, and it turns out I should have listened to the niggling feeling that the generator needed to be serviced, because it didn't kick on in the outage. The oil furnace doesn't work without electricity, so once the kids go home, we huddled around the fireplace, reading and singing Christmas songs. It turns out, my kids have very little knowledge of secular Christmas songs, because our CD collection runs more to medieval carols, and we rarely listen to the radio. (Mountains + rural = bad reception.)
10. My cardinal. Our male cardinal (OK, I have no idea if this is the same one that was half of the pair who spent the summer here, but I'm pretending like it is) has been hanging out at the bird feeder this week, and he looks fantastic against the snow.
Here's what's making my smile this week.
1. Studded snow tires. Seriously. These things rock. It only took me two tries to get up the icy driveway coming back from church today.
2. Live Christmas music
and
3. A new twist on tradition. Every year, Michael and I attend a Christmas concert by a brass quintet and a choral octet. It is one of the highlights of the season for me. This year, he was going to be away for the concert, so I roped the kids into going. They were great company, although Kid 4 fell asleep after intermission.
4. Warm cinnamon-roll bread. Someone delivered two loaves to a Boy Scout work party I was helping supervise. Yummy, especially on a snowy morning.
5. Our Christmas tree. The kids and I picked out a Fraser fir this year, and it has been the best-smelling tree we've ever had. It looks good, too, but let's face it, the smell is the main reason to wrestle a 12-foot combination of sap and needles into a tree stand.
6. Treats by mail. One of Michael's clients sent him some delicious treats in the mail. Some of which were clearly labeled, "Refrigeration not recommended. Eat within three days." Is it my fault he's going to be away for longer than that? Surely such high-quality creations deserve to be enjoyed at their best, even if not by the intended recipient? (We put one of the pies in the freezer for Michael to enjoy, and some of the treats can easily wait until he's back.)
7. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Although I've found to my dismay that Kid 4 seems to have outgrown having me read Christmas picture books to him (although I've seen him reading them to himself), he did still want me to read this chapter book aloud. We read it every year, and I always choke up at the end.
8. Electricity.
and
9. Fireplaces. We lost power for 5 hours on Thursday, and it turns out I should have listened to the niggling feeling that the generator needed to be serviced, because it didn't kick on in the outage. The oil furnace doesn't work without electricity, so once the kids go home, we huddled around the fireplace, reading and singing Christmas songs. It turns out, my kids have very little knowledge of secular Christmas songs, because our CD collection runs more to medieval carols, and we rarely listen to the radio. (Mountains + rural = bad reception.)
10. My cardinal. Our male cardinal (OK, I have no idea if this is the same one that was half of the pair who spent the summer here, but I'm pretending like it is) has been hanging out at the bird feeder this week, and he looks fantastic against the snow.
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Worry--the guest that no one misses
As long as I can remember, I've been a worrier. A thinker. A planner.
What if X happens? I ask myself. And then I figure out what I'll do.
Sometimes this pays off. Last month, someone asked me how it was that we traveled successfully when our kids were young, and I realized in answering her that most of it could be summed up as, "Luck. And thinking about what could go wrong and finding ways to prevent it from happening."
However, my thinking and planning and worrying usually continues past the point of diminishing returns.
A few months ago, I was thinking and planning and worrying about stress during the last few months of the year. Between cross-country season and fall play and back to school and Spanish and Boy Scouts and my in-laws visiting and my husband traveling and all four kids having birthdays and Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas . . . there was a lot of potential stress. How could I have less of it?
I considered the number of commitments on my calendar and realized that I felt comfortable with that aspect of it. My choices had been carefully considered, and they were still right.
And clearly, I couldn't move the birthdays or the holidays.
What to do?
Maybe, I thought, maybe I can do what I need to do without stressing about it.
So I decided to give it a try.
Do the next thing.
Don't force decisions before they have to happen.
Trust it will all work out.
Sufficient to the day is theevil task thereof.
And you know what? It's working.
True, I paid $10 for $5 worth of Halloween candy to arrive at my college student's apartment before November. My husband wisely moved away from the counter and gnashed his teeth in a different part of the post office while I completed that transaction.
And we had a slight hiccup when I missed the deadline for ordering a wreath from my son's school fundraiser.
But you know what? When the wreaths arrived at school, I asked if they happened to have any extra I could purchase. And they did.
So, other than a few dollars' worth of postage that I could have saved, my new don't-stress plan has not had any downsides.
That's a small price to pay for a less-stressed me.
What if X happens? I ask myself. And then I figure out what I'll do.
Sometimes this pays off. Last month, someone asked me how it was that we traveled successfully when our kids were young, and I realized in answering her that most of it could be summed up as, "Luck. And thinking about what could go wrong and finding ways to prevent it from happening."
However, my thinking and planning and worrying usually continues past the point of diminishing returns.
A few months ago, I was thinking and planning and worrying about stress during the last few months of the year. Between cross-country season and fall play and back to school and Spanish and Boy Scouts and my in-laws visiting and my husband traveling and all four kids having birthdays and Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas . . . there was a lot of potential stress. How could I have less of it?
I considered the number of commitments on my calendar and realized that I felt comfortable with that aspect of it. My choices had been carefully considered, and they were still right.
And clearly, I couldn't move the birthdays or the holidays.
What to do?
Maybe, I thought, maybe I can do what I need to do without stressing about it.
So I decided to give it a try.
Do the next thing.
Don't force decisions before they have to happen.
Trust it will all work out.
Sufficient to the day is the
And you know what? It's working.
True, I paid $10 for $5 worth of Halloween candy to arrive at my college student's apartment before November. My husband wisely moved away from the counter and gnashed his teeth in a different part of the post office while I completed that transaction.
And we had a slight hiccup when I missed the deadline for ordering a wreath from my son's school fundraiser.
But you know what? When the wreaths arrived at school, I asked if they happened to have any extra I could purchase. And they did.
So, other than a few dollars' worth of postage that I could have saved, my new don't-stress plan has not had any downsides.
That's a small price to pay for a less-stressed me.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Ten things of thankful: election week
What a week. Adjusting to it being pitch black at 5:00 in the evening. The election (very bad news in our household). Tech week for the high school play. My second week of solo parenting.
So glad it's behind us.
That said, there were still things to be thankful for.
1. $10 ski boots. Yes, you read that right. There's only one zero. A neighboring town had their annual winter sports equipment consignment sale. Kid 4 said his toes were barely touching in his ski boots from last year and felt comfortable enough that he didn't need new boots. But he's 11, and this is not my first circus. I don't trust eleven-year-old feet. They grow at the most inconvenient times, and suddenly your kid is limping onto the concert floor because the required black shoes have overnight become two sizes too small.
So, I insisted we go bright and early to the sale to see if we could pick up a cheap pair of boots one size up, "just in case."
The woman fitting him said she's surprised he claimed the other boots are comfortable, because he fits the next size up quite nicely. And she found a pair that was $10. Ten dollars. It made my day.She recommended getting his bindings adjusted for the new boots and using them all season. We also found a good deal on ski pants for him and for me.
2. Library holds. The library emailed earlier this week to say that the book I had placed on hold had arrived. It was returned on a Thursday, and since it is new and I can't ever get to the library midweek, it would have been long gone by Saturday if not for the hold system.
3. Blue skies. I feel a little guilty about this one, because we are in a drought, but it's been nice to have blue skies and sun this weekend. It can rain all it wants during the week to make up for it.
4. Skype. I had two video chats with my husband this week, which is a nice change from texting. Kid 1 and I also Skyped, until our internet stopped cooperating and we switched to phone.
5. Cheap long distance. I live clear across the country from my family and from some very close friends. Saturday I had three lengthy long-distance phone calls. I can remember in my early childhood when a long-distance call was a Very Big Deal, and I'm so glad I can connect with those I love without worrying about the bill, on either side.
6. Hugs. I went seeking sugar on the morning after the election, and ran into a friend at the local bakery. She came up to me, said, "You look like you could use a hug," and hugged me. I hadn't realized until she said that how very much I did need a hug. Sometimes, when there are no words, hugs communicate best.
7. Kid 4's passion for all the things there are to learn and do in this world. And I need to remind myself that I really am grateful for this, because for the last few days, he has been pushing hard to add tai kwon do to the mix and it's just not going to work. I think he has finally heard me, at least for now. I think this because he is sighing dejectedly every time we're in the same room.
8. My Pilates class. Between one thing and another (mostly on the teacher's end), this was my first class in 6 weeks. I was dreading it just a bit, because it's always rough when you've been away from it that long, but at the same time, I knew my back would feel so much better afterwards. And it does.
9. Lavender pillow spray. My husband gets headaches from a lot of scents, so I rarely get to use it, but when he travels, I indulge. I don't know if it actually helps me sleep better, but it smells nice.
10. Voices of calm and hope in the wake of the election. I especially appreciated the post 9 Real, Actionable Things We Can Do About Trump and the multiple repostings of this illustrated guide to what to do if you see harassment.
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Ten things of thankful
Every week, my sister hosts a "Ten Things of Thankful" blog round up over at Thankful Me. I'm giving it a try this week.
So, in roughly chronological order, here are some things I was thankful for this week.
1. Halloween. I love Halloween in New England, especially when, like this year, we don't have to deal with rain or snow. It's more of a community event than I remember it being when I lived in Utah or Oregon. Each town has its own particular quirks: the house that hands out baggies of fresh popcorn; the house that gives extra candy to kids who do a trick (jokes count); the house that plays opera on outside speakers; the house with the sound of a chainsaw coming from the barn, the house that hands out jello shots (in plastic containers so you can consume them after you drive the kids home) to the parents.
This year, only Kid 4 was young enough to go trick-or-treating, and he and his friends lobbied to go around the village without parental chaperones. The parents discussed it and agreed--as long as the kids agreed to check in via walkie-talkie throughout the evening.
I also made Kid 4's costume with visibility in mind. Which brings me to . . .
2. Pushing the envelope. I almost always buy Halloween costumes, but for some reason, when Kid 4 and I started talking about his costume this year, I began by doing a Pinterest search for easy no-sew Halloween costumes. A jellyfish costume caught Kid 4's eye, and he confessed to having wanted to be a jellyfish the previous year.
Crafting is so not my strength, but I was able to put something together that was recognizably a jellyfish. And it was white, and had LED lights, so kiddo was extra visible for his first unchaperoned trick-or-treat.
3. Fun field trips. Kid 4 got to spend Friday night in the Boston Science Museum. I am thankful for the adults who rode in a bus and slept on a museum floor to give him that opportunity.
4. Great local theater. Friday night, I went to see a great production of a play by a local playwright. I live within 15 minutes of three community theaters, but this one is our "home" theater, so I knew almost everyone involved with the production. I drove home on a theater high.
5. My kids' cross-country coach. Eight years ago, Kid 1 came home from 7th grade and told us he had joined the cross-country team. Privately, my husband and I agreed this wouldn't last two weeks. Kid 1 ran all through high school, and the twins joined up when they got to 7th grade. The coach is a character, prone to putting his foot in his mouth. He also loves running and loves the kids, and he fosters determination and team spirit better than anyone I've met. My kids are blessed to have him in their lives.
6. Cross-country meets. Yesterday was the final cross-country meet of the season for my kids. After dropping the kids off at school to ride the bus, my friend (whose son is also on the team) and I went out to breakfast before driving to the meet. We arrived early enough to walk the course, which was especially scenic, even this late in the fall. It was cold, but we lucked out and had only a little rain. Spending the day outside, chatting with parents, cheering on the kids, and watching the kids cheer on each other is one of my favorite things about fall.
One of the runners on the team is . . . not fast. He is running because he wants to share the activity with an older brother, but running is not his gift. He comes in minutes after the next slowest member of the team. And yet, when he hits the home stretch, he has a crowd of teammates cheering him on.
7. Pumpkin-stuffed French toast, with whipped cream and real maple syrup. It completely violated my post-Halloween vow to eat healthier, but it was worth it.
8. My small group at church. As part of preparing to be received into the Episcopal church last month, I met regularly with the priest and the other people preparing for reception. We found our time together so enriching, we decided to keep meeting even after our reception. We met today and had a lively discussion on All Saints Day and what sainthood means to us.
9. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Kid 2, Kid 4, and I started watching this together on Halloween. They are enjoying it as much as I thought they would, and I'm enjoying sharing it with them.
10. Reading time. Kid 4 and I started a new read aloud this week. I'm glad he still likes being read to.
So, in roughly chronological order, here are some things I was thankful for this week.
1. Halloween. I love Halloween in New England, especially when, like this year, we don't have to deal with rain or snow. It's more of a community event than I remember it being when I lived in Utah or Oregon. Each town has its own particular quirks: the house that hands out baggies of fresh popcorn; the house that gives extra candy to kids who do a trick (jokes count); the house that plays opera on outside speakers; the house with the sound of a chainsaw coming from the barn, the house that hands out jello shots (in plastic containers so you can consume them after you drive the kids home) to the parents.
This year, only Kid 4 was young enough to go trick-or-treating, and he and his friends lobbied to go around the village without parental chaperones. The parents discussed it and agreed--as long as the kids agreed to check in via walkie-talkie throughout the evening.
I also made Kid 4's costume with visibility in mind. Which brings me to . . .
2. Pushing the envelope. I almost always buy Halloween costumes, but for some reason, when Kid 4 and I started talking about his costume this year, I began by doing a Pinterest search for easy no-sew Halloween costumes. A jellyfish costume caught Kid 4's eye, and he confessed to having wanted to be a jellyfish the previous year.
Crafting is so not my strength, but I was able to put something together that was recognizably a jellyfish. And it was white, and had LED lights, so kiddo was extra visible for his first unchaperoned trick-or-treat.
3. Fun field trips. Kid 4 got to spend Friday night in the Boston Science Museum. I am thankful for the adults who rode in a bus and slept on a museum floor to give him that opportunity.
4. Great local theater. Friday night, I went to see a great production of a play by a local playwright. I live within 15 minutes of three community theaters, but this one is our "home" theater, so I knew almost everyone involved with the production. I drove home on a theater high.
5. My kids' cross-country coach. Eight years ago, Kid 1 came home from 7th grade and told us he had joined the cross-country team. Privately, my husband and I agreed this wouldn't last two weeks. Kid 1 ran all through high school, and the twins joined up when they got to 7th grade. The coach is a character, prone to putting his foot in his mouth. He also loves running and loves the kids, and he fosters determination and team spirit better than anyone I've met. My kids are blessed to have him in their lives.
6. Cross-country meets. Yesterday was the final cross-country meet of the season for my kids. After dropping the kids off at school to ride the bus, my friend (whose son is also on the team) and I went out to breakfast before driving to the meet. We arrived early enough to walk the course, which was especially scenic, even this late in the fall. It was cold, but we lucked out and had only a little rain. Spending the day outside, chatting with parents, cheering on the kids, and watching the kids cheer on each other is one of my favorite things about fall.
One of the runners on the team is . . . not fast. He is running because he wants to share the activity with an older brother, but running is not his gift. He comes in minutes after the next slowest member of the team. And yet, when he hits the home stretch, he has a crowd of teammates cheering him on.
7. Pumpkin-stuffed French toast, with whipped cream and real maple syrup. It completely violated my post-Halloween vow to eat healthier, but it was worth it.
8. My small group at church. As part of preparing to be received into the Episcopal church last month, I met regularly with the priest and the other people preparing for reception. We found our time together so enriching, we decided to keep meeting even after our reception. We met today and had a lively discussion on All Saints Day and what sainthood means to us.
9. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Kid 2, Kid 4, and I started watching this together on Halloween. They are enjoying it as much as I thought they would, and I'm enjoying sharing it with them.
10. Reading time. Kid 4 and I started a new read aloud this week. I'm glad he still likes being read to.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
What I read in October
The Dark Forest by Cixin Liu--It's hard to talk about this book, the second in a trilogy, without telling you things about the first book that I want you to be free to discover on your own. Suffice it to say that the English translation of the first book won the Nebula in 2015, I was expecting to be disappointed with the second book, and I wasn't. I'm not generally a fan of hard science fiction, and I find this trilogy challenging at times, but the questions it poses and the answers it posits make the effort more than worth it.
A Man Called Ove by Frederik Backman--Another translation, this time from Swedish. My mother-in-law gave me this book for my birthday back in the spring, but it didn't come to the top of the reading queue until the fall. The first chapter made me laugh out loud and annoy my children by reading bits of it to them. Ove is a delightfully lovable curmudgeon.
The Plot Against America by Philip Roth--I picked this up on a whim, because I was running out to pick up kids, thought I might need to wait a bit, and none of the many books I am in the middle of happened to be in the room with me, so I grabbed this one off the shelf. It's an alternate history in which Lindbergh (yes, that one) defeats FDR in 1940 and cozies up to Hitler. It was like reading about the current election without reading about the current election. I was engrossed by this book right up until the last page. The ending felt as if Roth realized he had hit his word count or reached his deadline, slapped a final sentence on the book, and mailed it off. I can't think of the last time I've been caught completely off-guard by a bad ending. Usually I have ample warning that a book is going to disappoint, but this one felt like a slap in the face.
I also listened to almost all of Galileo's Daughter, which I read in 2012. It was my book group's selection for the month, and I decided to give audio books another try, because my library system had it available in that format. Nope, still don't like them, and not only because the last two files didn't download properly. This is actually a decent book, even the second time through. The parallels with the current religious objections to the teaching of evolution are as obvious as they were the first reading, but this time I thought more about why I found Suor Maria Celeste--a nun who was sincerely devoted to her father--somewhat annoying. I wanted her to be angrier that Galileo simultaneously didn't pay to make her legitimate, like he did for her younger brother, and wouldn't let her marry because anyone who would offer to marry an illegitimate woman would not be worthy of the Galilei name. I did not want her to be so grateful for the chance to sew collars for Galileo. It's hard to shake my feminist ideals.
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson--Much like when I read Dracula several years ago, I wished I could have read this book fresh, without having it be part of my cultural background for as long as I can remember. It would have been more suspenseful. And yet, there was still a fair bit I didn't know, so the final reveal was interesting, and the Victorian exploration of human nature was somewhat unexpected.
A Man Called Ove by Frederik Backman--Another translation, this time from Swedish. My mother-in-law gave me this book for my birthday back in the spring, but it didn't come to the top of the reading queue until the fall. The first chapter made me laugh out loud and annoy my children by reading bits of it to them. Ove is a delightfully lovable curmudgeon.
The Plot Against America by Philip Roth--I picked this up on a whim, because I was running out to pick up kids, thought I might need to wait a bit, and none of the many books I am in the middle of happened to be in the room with me, so I grabbed this one off the shelf. It's an alternate history in which Lindbergh (yes, that one) defeats FDR in 1940 and cozies up to Hitler. It was like reading about the current election without reading about the current election. I was engrossed by this book right up until the last page. The ending felt as if Roth realized he had hit his word count or reached his deadline, slapped a final sentence on the book, and mailed it off. I can't think of the last time I've been caught completely off-guard by a bad ending. Usually I have ample warning that a book is going to disappoint, but this one felt like a slap in the face.
I also listened to almost all of Galileo's Daughter, which I read in 2012. It was my book group's selection for the month, and I decided to give audio books another try, because my library system had it available in that format. Nope, still don't like them, and not only because the last two files didn't download properly. This is actually a decent book, even the second time through. The parallels with the current religious objections to the teaching of evolution are as obvious as they were the first reading, but this time I thought more about why I found Suor Maria Celeste--a nun who was sincerely devoted to her father--somewhat annoying. I wanted her to be angrier that Galileo simultaneously didn't pay to make her legitimate, like he did for her younger brother, and wouldn't let her marry because anyone who would offer to marry an illegitimate woman would not be worthy of the Galilei name. I did not want her to be so grateful for the chance to sew collars for Galileo. It's hard to shake my feminist ideals.
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson--Much like when I read Dracula several years ago, I wished I could have read this book fresh, without having it be part of my cultural background for as long as I can remember. It would have been more suspenseful. And yet, there was still a fair bit I didn't know, so the final reveal was interesting, and the Victorian exploration of human nature was somewhat unexpected.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Reach out and touch someone . . . or not
My community experienced a tragedy last week. One of those moments that becomes a new milestone in life, a stake in the flow of time by which we date future events. Years from now, people will still talk about where they were when they heard the news.
I was sitting on my couch, checking my email after having returned from being officially received into the Episcopal Church. On the drive home, I'd been musing over whether to blog about that.
And then suddenly, nothing mattered except the tragedy.
Social media exploded, and the schedule filled with opportunities to gather with others in times of communal mourning and meditation.
My immune system took that moment to find another cold I had somehow missed in the last month. And not just any cold: fever, chills, sore throat, cough, laryngitis.
While my community walked together into grief, greeting casual acquaintances with hugs, I've felt honor bound to hold myself aloof.
I watched the embraces, the clasped hands, the kisses. Anytime someone approached me, I warded them off, "I have a really bad cold."
This afternoon, I stood on hill beside a pond, feeling on my back the warmth of the sun breaking through the clouds, listened to eulogies for someone far too young, and watched parents face the unimaginable, surrounded by people who love them.
The service was four cough drops long.
I was sitting on my couch, checking my email after having returned from being officially received into the Episcopal Church. On the drive home, I'd been musing over whether to blog about that.
And then suddenly, nothing mattered except the tragedy.
Social media exploded, and the schedule filled with opportunities to gather with others in times of communal mourning and meditation.
My immune system took that moment to find another cold I had somehow missed in the last month. And not just any cold: fever, chills, sore throat, cough, laryngitis.
While my community walked together into grief, greeting casual acquaintances with hugs, I've felt honor bound to hold myself aloof.
I watched the embraces, the clasped hands, the kisses. Anytime someone approached me, I warded them off, "I have a really bad cold."
This afternoon, I stood on hill beside a pond, feeling on my back the warmth of the sun breaking through the clouds, listened to eulogies for someone far too young, and watched parents face the unimaginable, surrounded by people who love them.
The service was four cough drops long.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
I'm baaaaaack
When I stopped blogging back in 2013, I told myself that I was going to use my blogging time to get caught up on our photo albums.
Way back in the mid-90s, in a burst of twenty-something enthusiasm, I decided that in addition to a family album, I needed to create an album for each child, so that when they left home, they would have photos and we would have photos.
And then I had four kids.
And we got a digital camera, which resulted in more photos than I thought possible.
I've been behind on the albums for at least a decade. Just when I'm about to get caught up, I visit my family, avid photographers all, and I sink under the deluge of great photos they take of our time together.
I finally broke myself of treating each picture as if it might be the only remaining documentation of someone's life. (Having a mother who is an avid genealogist can have some weird effects on a person. My kids are millennials. An underdocumented life is not going to be a problem they face.)
I embraced digital scrapbooking, which allows me to create pages for five photo albums for the effort of one.
The photo albums are still exhausting, and I do almost anything to avoid working on them. The truth is, I suffer decision fatigue about 20 seconds in to each scrapbooking session.
Of the three similar photos of the kids in this location, should I pick shot 1, 2, or 3? How many pictures do I need of our time in the botanical gardens in Copenhagen? Do I have too many photos of Kid4, who is still young enough to like posing for photos, and not enough of the self-conscious teenagers? Do I have to include one photo of each person on each day of our trip?
Too. Many. Decisions.
However.
Twice in the last month, I've found myself looking things up in past blog posts, and I realized that I miss not having a blog record of the past three-and-a-half years.
And I'm egotistical enough to think I have things that are worth saying, and I miss not having a platform.
So I've decided to jump back into blogging, photo albums be damned.
Way back in the mid-90s, in a burst of twenty-something enthusiasm, I decided that in addition to a family album, I needed to create an album for each child, so that when they left home, they would have photos and we would have photos.
And then I had four kids.
And we got a digital camera, which resulted in more photos than I thought possible.
I've been behind on the albums for at least a decade. Just when I'm about to get caught up, I visit my family, avid photographers all, and I sink under the deluge of great photos they take of our time together.
I finally broke myself of treating each picture as if it might be the only remaining documentation of someone's life. (Having a mother who is an avid genealogist can have some weird effects on a person. My kids are millennials. An underdocumented life is not going to be a problem they face.)
I embraced digital scrapbooking, which allows me to create pages for five photo albums for the effort of one.
The photo albums are still exhausting, and I do almost anything to avoid working on them. The truth is, I suffer decision fatigue about 20 seconds in to each scrapbooking session.
Of the three similar photos of the kids in this location, should I pick shot 1, 2, or 3? How many pictures do I need of our time in the botanical gardens in Copenhagen? Do I have too many photos of Kid4, who is still young enough to like posing for photos, and not enough of the self-conscious teenagers? Do I have to include one photo of each person on each day of our trip?
Too. Many. Decisions.
However.
Twice in the last month, I've found myself looking things up in past blog posts, and I realized that I miss not having a blog record of the past three-and-a-half years.
And I'm egotistical enough to think I have things that are worth saying, and I miss not having a platform.
So I've decided to jump back into blogging, photo albums be damned.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Ten Things I Learned from my Dad
- Reading is fun. Novels can move people. Challenging books are worth the effort.
Some of my earliest memories involve seeing my dad read and finding his books lying open around the house. I remember him talking about Sacajawea when he was reading a novelized account of her life. And he was the reason I kept trying to read The Hobbit until I finally got mature enough to be caught up in the magic. - Adults can have hobbies too.
Dad introduced me to photography, Russian embroidery, goat raising, gardening, solar energy, and fly tying, among others. - Technology is not scary.
When I was eight and nine, Dad would bring home a computer from school during Christmas break and summer vacation. He pulled up a chair beside his and my sister and I took turns reading lines of code out loud while Dad typed them in. If we did it correctly, we ended up with a working version of Brick Out we could enjoy for the rest of the vacation. - Conversely, you can walk away from technology.
When I was five, my parents got rid of our TV. They didn't get one again until I was a parent. As I work to find the right balance of technology in my life and the lives of my kids, I am so grateful for this example that just getting rid of it is always an option. - Appreciate the irony in life.
Dad's wry sense of humor and love of irony prepared me well for working in the software industry. I don't think I could cope without them, and I definitely wouldn't relate as well to my coworkers. - The earth is important.
I loved to go down to the recycling center that Dad ran with his junior high students and "help" sort bottles. (I think I was five or six, so I'm not sure how much help I was.) I remember the period when Dad biked to work. When I was ten we moved to an earth-sheltered home with passive solar heating. Although I constantly fall short of doing as much as I should, Dad provided me with a great example. - When faced with a problem, ask questions.
When I got stuck on a math problem, I'd climb the stairs to the loft, perch on a stool, and ask Dad for help. (Now that I'm the parent in these situations, I have new appreciation for just how rusty algebra or trig can get, twenty years later.) Dad taught me to take a deep breath and start asking questions. What do you know? What do you need to know? How can you find out? Almost always, the answer came.
Not only do I use this approach when the kids come to me with their math homework, some of my best moments at work start when I ask, What do I know? What do I need to know? How can I find out? - Great parents have high expectations but low pressure.
I'll admit it. I'm still working on this. I think my kids would tell you I have a long way to go. As a kid, the worst discipline was to be sent to talk to Dad. Not because he would yell at me or berate me, but because I would have to look him in the eye and see his disappointment. However, even at those times, I knew that my Dad thought I was great and nothing I did or didn't do would change that. He had complete faith that whatever it was I had done wrong, it was a temporary glitch. - It's not a failure if you learned something.
Dad's standard response to a bad test grade or a project that didn't work out was, "Did you learn something? Well then." - It's cool to be smart.
Dad was one of the teachers for the Talented and Gifted program in his school. From his stories about students he admired, I internalized that smart, curious kids were cool. I still consider "getting to spend the day with smart people" one of the best things about my job.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Books 2, 3, and 4
Our book group book for January was The Swerve, the account of Poggio Bracciolini discovering a manuscript copy of On the Nature of Things by Lucretius in 1417. The details of ancient Rome, the destruction of the library of Alexandria, and Renaissance Florence and Rome were interesting, and yet my overall reaction to the book was only pleasant enjoyment. I am glad that we own a copy, since I think I will want to look up certain anecdotes later. The book also contains illustrations, including an example of Poggio's amazingly beautiful handwriting, which became the basis for our modern roman typeface. I find it ironic that a book in which Epicureanism plays a significant role was so physically unpleasant for me to read. The cover had an almost soapy film to it that made me not want to hold the book.
Michael, on the other hand, read it in a day and a half.
My exercise book was The Handmaid's Tale, a book I had heard mentioned so often I was half convinced I had read it before. I hadn't, and I found it engrossing. I was glad when it was time to get on the elliptical so I could find out if the unnamed handmaid was going to escape Gilead.
I also finished Happier at Home. I like to read something in January that inspires me to live a better life. I share many of the same challenges as the author: a tendency to not show my love for my family as I'd like to, a sometimes excessive interest in my work, and difficulty staying present in the now. Although I didn't always like what I saw in the mirror this book held up, I'm grateful for the insights I gained.
Michael, on the other hand, read it in a day and a half.
My exercise book was The Handmaid's Tale, a book I had heard mentioned so often I was half convinced I had read it before. I hadn't, and I found it engrossing. I was glad when it was time to get on the elliptical so I could find out if the unnamed handmaid was going to escape Gilead.
I also finished Happier at Home. I like to read something in January that inspires me to live a better life. I share many of the same challenges as the author: a tendency to not show my love for my family as I'd like to, a sometimes excessive interest in my work, and difficulty staying present in the now. Although I didn't always like what I saw in the mirror this book held up, I'm grateful for the insights I gained.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Jargon part two
It was another week full of meetings. Not all weeks are like this; we're just in the meeting-heavy section of the cycle. I had five meetings on Wednesday alone, and there were at least three times this week when I had to choose which of two conflicting meetings to attend.
And as it turned out, I chose wrong at least two of the three times. One missed meeting apparently involved an intense argument, according to water-cooler talk the next day. "The most entertaining call ever." And another missed meeting resulted in a developer sending me an instant message: "Are you on a different call? I can't believe you're not objecting to this."
Fortunately, most of my meetings this week were valuable discussions resulting in good decisions.
However, they also reminded me of a word I missed in my net-net post: ask.
"Ask?" you say. "Ask isn't jargon."
Oh, but it is in this sentence, "So the ask is, what do you need from the other team to be able to implement this feature?"
Question. The word you are looking for is question.
And as it turned out, I chose wrong at least two of the three times. One missed meeting apparently involved an intense argument, according to water-cooler talk the next day. "The most entertaining call ever." And another missed meeting resulted in a developer sending me an instant message: "Are you on a different call? I can't believe you're not objecting to this."
Fortunately, most of my meetings this week were valuable discussions resulting in good decisions.
However, they also reminded me of a word I missed in my net-net post: ask.
"Ask?" you say. "Ask isn't jargon."
Oh, but it is in this sentence, "So the ask is, what do you need from the other team to be able to implement this feature?"
Question. The word you are looking for is question.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
The net net is, I need to decouple from the jargon
My employer (who, please note, is staying nameless on my blog) is notorious for its use of jargon and acronyms. If there were an award for this sort of thing, the military might beat us, but it would be a close race.
When I first joined the company, there was one coworker in particular whom I literally could not understand because her speech was so infused with company jargon and acronyms. Two years later, I fear I have become the person new employees can't understand.
Lately, I've caught myself using leverage, impact, and circle back. I've even gone so far as to tell Michael that he is just going to have to learn what a GA is, because I'm not going to stop saying it. ("Just call it a release!" he says.)
So you know the jargon is bad when I still notice it.
The two terms that drove me crazy this week:
Decoupled--if you are talking about train cars, go ahead and use decoupled. But two software suites that were going to be released on the same day and now are going to be released on different dates have not been decoupled. The release dates have been separated or split. (To keep the blog honest, I should tell you that I am pretty sure I said, "They are considering decoupling the releases" in a meeting this week. This is what makes jargon so insidious. Even when it makes your brain shudder, it comes out of your mouth anyway.)
Net net--this one drives me even crazier than decoupled, and it seems to be all the rage among product management these days. What is wrong with the bottom line? Or the point? Or the takeaway? At least I understand where those terms came from.
If you hear me say "the net net is" just shoot me. Please.
When I first joined the company, there was one coworker in particular whom I literally could not understand because her speech was so infused with company jargon and acronyms. Two years later, I fear I have become the person new employees can't understand.
Lately, I've caught myself using leverage, impact, and circle back. I've even gone so far as to tell Michael that he is just going to have to learn what a GA is, because I'm not going to stop saying it. ("Just call it a release!" he says.)
So you know the jargon is bad when I still notice it.
The two terms that drove me crazy this week:
Decoupled--if you are talking about train cars, go ahead and use decoupled. But two software suites that were going to be released on the same day and now are going to be released on different dates have not been decoupled. The release dates have been separated or split. (To keep the blog honest, I should tell you that I am pretty sure I said, "They are considering decoupling the releases" in a meeting this week. This is what makes jargon so insidious. Even when it makes your brain shudder, it comes out of your mouth anyway.)
Net net--this one drives me even crazier than decoupled, and it seems to be all the rage among product management these days. What is wrong with the bottom line? Or the point? Or the takeaway? At least I understand where those terms came from.
If you hear me say "the net net is" just shoot me. Please.
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