That Didn't Go As Planned...

Well. Merry Christmas. And Happy New Year. 

Christmas wasn't exactly Christmas. Or, it didn't go as I expected. I was honestly dreading it, since it was a reminder of the last day I saw my sister alive. 

But...almost simultaneously, Mother Nature threw a hissy fit and a couple of the immediate family came down with Covid, so we cancelled it. Initially, we put it off till New Year's Day - but with the fam having Covid, we had too many of us say, "You know, so far, we've been lucky and we feel like a cat on its 8-and-a-halfth life." 

So my mom pulled the plug, and we'll be doing a porch-drop of the various gifts. We even cancelled our Christmas Eve church service - winds howling over 50 mph, icy roads... I know there were churches in the area who did in-person services, but our own supply priest would have to have come in from north of Chicago. Maybe that was a knee-jerk reaction, but sometimes, you have to take that risk. 

All things considered, I'm somewhat relieved. Kid #2 came down for dinner today, which was fun. I ate some vegan cookies, and they were pretty good! In the larger tub on the left are variations on the ones I've made, and in the bowl on the right are things the Kid came up with. All are vegan, and the Snickerdoodles (a specialty) are delicious - you can't tell the difference between the ones I make (with egg) and the ones here, without egg. 

For some reason, Hubby won't touch them, so I have a whole batch of lovely cookies to myself! Fine with me. 

It's funny - you know when your oldest friend "gets" you. Check out this wrapping paper! She also is a person who can shop for me. I have a new, lovely, burgundy sweater that looks like it's a cowl neck, with a pair of gorgeous hoop earrings. She also gave me some lovely lotion and yoga-themed items. Hubby always rags me about the number of water bottles I have. So of course, in this year's box, was a yoga-themed water bottle. This one wasn't MY fault!

We've been exchanging gifts for a long time. This year, I found a vintage Mickey Mouse cookie jar, and at our church auction, I got a hand-quilted table runner (tones of green and ivory, just like her kitchen) and a set of cream/ivory soapstone candlesticks. I also got her a cosmetic bag, just for fun. She's a "fancy purse" kind of gal, and I found a glittery rose-gold one from the Kate Spade outlet website. It looks like much more than I paid for it! She loved all of it, thankfully. I'm particularly happy that she didn't have the cookie jar - she's got so much Disney stuff that I'm never sure what's what. And I'm not a Disney person, so I can only guess at this stuff. 

New Year's Eve...

In typical fashion, I'm watching "The Twilight Zone" marathon and will be knitting. I'm bummed - I had to change balls for the afghan in the final third of the row. Not cool. I was hoping to get the change done at the end of the row. 

I've prepped Quinn for the upcoming fireworks - which have already started. The diffuser in the bathroom where she sleeps has lavender in it and she got a round of hemp chews. I'll check on her in a bit (fingers and paws crossed, it's been quiet so far) and see if she needs a lavender butt rub. If it gets worse, I'll have to give her a shot of Sileo (vet prescribes it).  I'll have to be up with Quinn till she settles down and I don't have to worry about dragging her out from behind the toilet anyway, so I may as well relax and get comfy. I'm about to go change into my jammies and get situated in my chair. I know that while it's quiet now, around midnight it's likely to go nuts. 

Can you see how thrilled she is in her hat? Honestly, she does like wearing these things, but for some reason, this picture doesn't show her true feelings. Or maybe it does? All I know is that Raisa always looks like she's gonna crap in my shoes when I make her (rarely) wear a headband. 

Thankfully, Raisa isn't bothered by the noise, so she's conked out in the kitchen. 

I'm also praying for rain. Lots of it. So that the fireworks are kaput. It would make my new year nicer. There's church tomorrow, and I'd like to be fresh, since I'm playing a couple of the carols. 

We shall see what happens.

The Knitting...

The afghan, as I noted, is just coming along. It's at that weird spot where it looks like I haven't done anything much. I'm about 17.5" into it, and I've got to get to 35" before I can do the last 20 rows of the final border. 

I found that the turquoise and the taupe yarn balls are slightly off. It's not unusual, because in the factory they have wiggle room for that "5 oz" measurement of yarn. It can be plus or minus a couple of feet of actual yarn. In my world, I'd make sure that they're all even. Heck, I'm happy there wasn't a knot mid-hank - that's happened to me before. 

I have a small ball of turquoise left; and I might go really wild and put a little fringe on each corner. That would be very weird - I'm not normally a fringe gal. But in this case, maybe just a little one at the corners might not be too bad. 

I'm a bit annoyed... I'm not sure how I'm going to make these ends disappear into the afghan. If I could've made it to the end, I could've woven them up the sides. But I was literally 2/3 of the way across the row. Maybe I should've just frogged it back, but it's done now. 

I'm getting nervous about the Baby Surprise Jacket. I think I'm more concerned about getting the gauge right - I'm not usually a gauge person. My "typical" sweater is a knit-and-go because I always use the same yarn and the same pattern. But this branching out is a bit different for me. 

I keep telling myself, "How bad can it be?" So I guess I'll give it a go. It's only yarn. 

I have to get skippy though - the shower looks to be in March, so I suppose I'd better move it along!

The Baking...

Merry Christmas to me... Our old white Kitchen Aid is on its last legs. Hubby already opened her up and re-greased, and re-tuned her motor. And she was still struggling through some basic cookie batters. However, the nice thing about those gazillion pre-Christmas sales is that you can get your mixer replaced at a decent price so you may as well do so. One of our friends has christened her "Big Red." She's a commercial grade Kitchen Aid and I'm still getting used to her. She's a lot quieter than Snow White, but she's got a bigger bowl. Hubby also got me the scraper/beater, which I haven't used yet. 

I did try her out on some casserole bread, and the fact that it was screwed up is entirely my fault. Anyhow, I was surprised at how deep her bowl was. The dough did rise nicely, but I have to adjust my eyes to the depth and realize what's in there.

Honestly, it was the same with Snow White. Her bowl was bigger (went from a 3-qt. to a 5-qt.) and it took a minute to figure out what I could do with her and what she was capable of. 

And Big Red is an 8-qt. She's got some girth on her. 

So we didn't bake a couple of the batches of cookies that we planned. We didn't do the M & M cookies or the date balls. Not to worry - we have plenty of cookies to go around anyway. So I guess the ambitious list was just not going to happen this year. All I can say is that, were we to do those cookies, Big Red can handle them with ease. Snow White was, frankly, struggling with the almond crescents. 

I'm dropping a platter off to my mom. She gives my cookies to her friends, which works for me because then I'm not tempted to pick at them. 

Today, though - not a baking thing, but still... I made my first curry. I have to get more fresh ginger; I had a stash in the freezer, but somehow, it's not there, so I had to use powdered ginger. It was a sweet potato curry with red paste, and served over a rice blend. It wasn't too bad. We roasted Brussels Sprouts and I added some to my dish. They gave it a surprising amount of "crunch." Oh, and it also had garlic, chickpeas, and spinach in it. It kind of made me wish I could taste and smell. 

The original recipe called for a bag of fresh baby spinach, but I used a bag of frozen chopped spinach. That actually worked better because you weren't having to wrangle full-sized wilted spinach leaves. The Kid approved, and Hubby made chili-roasted spud slices, which they enjoyed. 

My commitment this year is to try to eat more veggies & fruit and less meat. I'm not a huge meat-eater anyway. But also I do need to de-junk my habits. I got into a rut with eating after yoga class: a ham sandwich or a grilled cheese... maybe a yogurt. 

It wasn't cool, and my stomach (and blood pressure) can tell. 

It's not necessarily a "resolution," but a plan. I'm setting a goal for myself, and I want to introduce more vegetarian options. I'm told that curries are addictive because they're super easy. Well, ok. Lucky for me, I don't get bored of the same meal over and over. 

The Hip...

So I'm still rehabbing. I'm not sure when I'll be bringing prenatal yoga to our studio, because you can't just teach that from a chair. 

But not to worry; I'm still positive that things are getting better. I have one more shot to do, and I'm going to talk to the doctor about a PT program. 

At first, he said, "all I could do for you for therapy, you can do with yoga." But -- I'm not always motivated. I need a nudge. If I'm tired or hurting, I'll sit my butt in a chair. That's fine, in one respect because it is important to listen to what your body is telling you. But to the point, I do need someone (other than Hubby) to nudge me to do stuff. If I know I have to be responsible to a therapist who's set goals, then I'm more likely to actually get off my butt and push myself a bit more. I would like to get more steps in, and one way to do that is to have a plan to get up out of my chair (at work it's worse!) and walk the hall a couple of times. If I can tour the office, or (weather permitting) take a tool around the building, it'll be good for me both mentally and physically. 

Once I can ditch the cane, I can get back to my yoga therapist. I can feel that it's a lot of muscle rather than bone pain. It's just getting my strength back in the muscles. 

I've taken to talking to myself. "It's just lifting your leg, you can do that." Or "One step at a time." Or all that positive stuff. If I do that regularly, I do see that I'm moving better and feel more motivated. 

Who knew? 

I'm not sure whether I should be bummed or pleased. Hubby got me a quad-foot for my cane and a spike for when Mother Nature gets back to her winter mode. After nearly killing us the week of Christmas, we've had that weird week "in-between" where it's almost been spring. 

No wonder everyone's sick. 

Random Picture...

I rearranged my table. I was given some lovely Lake Superior rocks and I wanted to display them. I also moved my Mary Magdalene icon. Of course, in my opinion, Mary Magdalene was robbed. Her entire story was created by the patriarchy in the church who couldn't stand a powerful, spiritual woman. And so they made her pay for it. 

But I digress. 

Today, after a long while, I decided to fire up the diffuser in the living room. I normally use the one in the bedroom every night, but I'm careful about the one in the living room because Raisa doesn't like it. I've heard about dogs who don't like the oils, even at the most mild, and that's fine. My friend's dog hated lavender, and when she'd diffuse it, the dog would go to the farthest reaches of the house to get away from it. 

Much like people - they don't have to like everything! So anyhow, she was in the kitchen, so I fired it up, using Young Living's "Celebration" blend. I hadn't pulled that one out in a while, because frankly, I wasn't feeling celebratory after this year. But I thought I should maybe try adjusting my own attitude. 

As you can see, I set my rocks out. The round one at the right, Kid #2 used for meditation, so it should be full of good juju. Now I just have to layer my own on top of it. I like to hold a palm stone when I meditate sometimes. Sometimes it's Labradorite, sometimes Shungite or Black Tourmaline or sometimes...it's just a rock. I have some Lake Michigan rocks that I picked up last time I was on the beach and they're just lovely smooth stones with stories to tell. 

I'm also hoping to get back to a regular meditation practice in 2023. Last Thursday, I held a free Metta Meditation class and one of my students said, "My heart feels so light." 

I want that feeling in 2023. What is your desire for 2023? What are your goals? And you know what? It's ok if you don't have any right now. 

And A Good Time Was Had By All...

White Christmas

Whew! Christmas is done. Well, at least Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Today, the day after, we're "recovering."

It went well, all things considered. The Christmas Proclamation at church went just fine, though my choirmaster wondered why I sang it in thirds instead of fifths... Hint: I'm a soprano singing alto. I have a good range, but not THAT good! 

Silent Night went ok, but we really need to rehearse that. It worked out that I was able to be up front with the group, but apparently, even though I was playing it in 3:4 time, they weren't singing it that way. Oy. Well, next year. 

And, unlike last year, NOBODY barfed at the Communion Rail. I think that perhaps the kid who threw up last year (Merry Christmas, Fr. Matt) had had a little too much celebration. This year, also, Midnight Mass was packed, which was cool. I didn't have a chance to get a shot of the altar; maybe this Sunday. It's a beautiful church. 

We also had a White Christmas. Not a lot, but enough. I wish we had more. But then again, I'm nutty that way. 

All I have left under the tree are gifts for my sister and brother; some gifts for my knitting group; and my friend's gift. I was supposed to go to her open house on Christmas Eve, but you know what? I just didn't. 

I did text her and tell her that I wasn't going to make it. That was the night we were at my mom's house and the kids had to help her clean up; also the day that Kid #2 sliced his finger open. And I'm tired. Something had to give, and it couldn't be either Midnight Mass or my mom's house. 

My friend was upset, but then again: I gave her three different opportunities to get together and she had "something going on" each time. So. This is the same friend whose commitment I've questioned. I honestly feel like I'm the one trying to keep this afloat. We shall see. 

Family...

Well, the nephew didn't show up. My mom is done; she feels justified in saying that she set down rules, and he decided it wasn't important to truly go along with those rules to belong to the family. 

Kid #1 and my brother were watching out the kitchen window. I'm sorry we appear to be cold and heartless, but this is a kid who's never had any expectations set on him, and who's got a massive chip on his shoulder because our world doesn't revolve around his. 

Anyway, as we were driving home, both kids said, "You know, it was really relaxed there this time..." Because the nephew is unpredictable and has a horrible temper. Kid's barely 20 and already has a record for domestic violence. Sorry, but we weren't going to take chances. 

Enough of that.

The twins were absolutely cute. And their big brother was just a doll. We had a really fun time with them, and it's always good to see them. 

As well, my brother committed a crime. At least a crime in our family. Almost worth an extreme penalty, except that he's a big guy and nobody wants to mess with him! 

My Day Off...

He walked off with the platter of pineapple crescents. The entire platter! Granted, I didn't put all of them out; the platter was about the size of a luncheon plate. He took one look, swiped them and said, "MINE." 

I think I'm making a double batch of those next year. And Kid #2 has already requested those instead of a birthday cake for his next birthday. 

Knitting...

Yesterday, I made progress. Today, I'm almost up to the eyelet increases. I'm taking my time because I'm still having repetitive use issues with the left hand. And that's the one that's been fixed!! 

I've been cleaning up the house, making sure the kitchen got back into something like order, and trying to get Kid #2 to do his share. He usually does, but today he's "impaired." 

He cut his finger while making baked artichoke dip. Rest assured, no blood was shed on the dip. But the cut, in retrospect, should have had stitches. I bandaged it. Then when we went to my mom's house, my sister looked at it. She said it should've been stitched. She re-bandaged it. 

And then yesterday, after breaking it open trying to help my mom clean up on Christmas Eve, Kid #1 helped him by putting butterflies on it and re-bandaging it. I did a McGyver splint of popsicle sticks and no-stick tape, just so he doesn't bend it. It's on the ring finger, right hand, right alongside the knuckle. Just lovely. 

Today, I'm sitting here, with my cup of hot cocoa, Dr. Who on the TV and my new slippers (Thanks, Hubby!!! They're wonderful!). THAT is the way to spend Boxing Day! 

Speaking of which...

Hot Cocoa...

THIS makes the best hot cocoa. When I ran out for groceries, I tried to find more. I mean, I'd be happy to bake with it, but it's also fantastic cocoa.

I have my large snowman mug; my almond/coconut milk, warmed; and my hot cocoa mix in there. Bliss. 

I like to make my own, because that way I can control the sugar. This is not as sweet as some of the pre-packaged stuff, and it's a tad sweeter than what I make with organic cocoa + agave. I'll keep experimenting, though. 

I like a nice hot cocoa, and I'm picky about it. I'm trying to cut down on the sugar, which seems like a bit of an oxymoron, but it's either have the cup of cocoa or 6 Christmas cookies. 

Also, almond+coconut milk is really good. I don't drink a lot of cow's milk. I like almond, and I figured I'd try the variety with coconut in it. It's quite good, warm or cold. It comes in a sweetened and unsweetened variety. I use this in my smoothies, but I have to tell you that when it's 17* outside, I'm not much in a "smoothie" mood. 

Soups, yes. Cold smoothies and salads, not so much. So I'm drinking more tea trying to avoid the siren call of the leftover Christmas cookies. Granted, this year, we did only single batches, so there's not all that much left. 

But my friend Nat is having a "Christmas Leftovers" open house this weekend, and I'll stop by and leave a plate of the leftover cookies. Out of sight, out of mind, out of mouth and off hips. At least that's what I'm telling myself. 

Dogs...

OK. I have the blinds open at "their" window. And unfortunately, in an act of seasonal good cheer, I wanted to feed the birds and squirrels. Lucky for me, the screen's not on the window, so nobody will rip the screen. But the squirrels are driving them nuts, and the cats who're coming over to try to poach the birds? Well, let's just say this hasn't been the quietest hour in the house... Tippi has decided that she should stay up toward the front of the house - she can't gain traction on the laminate floor, and when Quinn raises the alarm, the "danger" is over by the time Tippi gets her rear end to the window!

and........... We put in an application for a Siberian Husky rescue; my friend Sarah pointed us toward a puppy. This ought to be interesting. We'll have to see, of course, if the girls accept this one, but we can at least put the application in. It's another red one. 

Just glanced out the front window. I do wish the across-the-street neighbors would not just let their cats run willy-nilly around the yard. Not only is it driving the dogs nuts, but jeeze - you really need to keep an eye on your pets. It's not safe. 

Here is a video of two junco birds on the back deck. Notice how they're flicking the seed they don't want off the deck? Especially the one on the right, the little stinker. 

Politics...

I'm swearing off this holiday season. I'm just going to let the year close without comment, except to say that THIS Congress makes Harry Truman's "Do Nothing" bunch look downright prolific. HIS "do nothing" group sent him over 300 bills. 

THIS Congress sent President Obama 65. And probably 60 of those had to do with either repealing the Affordable Care Act or attempts to restrict women's reproductive rights.

Because, you know, you can only think straight if you have a penis. Those ovaries mess with your brain. 'Scuse me. Gotta go whack my head against a wall.

So I'm off politics for a bit. My brain needs a break. 

Reading...

Still plowing through "Persuasion" and lucky for me, Hubby got me the DVD! 

Yes, I'll still finish it, thank you very much. 

The kids got me two books on Mudras (hand positions) that are used in yoga for a variety of reasons. Usually with meditation and chants. Those will be useful not only for my 200-hour thesis, but also for my own teaching and my own meditation practice.

I'm happy about the DVDs also. Was it me or was this Christmas the barest "Christmas Movies" time ever? Oh, except nine hundred showings of Christmas in Connecticut. Now, I like Barbara Stanwyck. But not 24 hours a day. That's as bad as the marathon showings of Christmas Story. I only saw one version of A Christmas Carol and I polled the movie-watching group I usually  hang with. They agreed: very sparse. 

My watchers

Random Picture...

They're watching. Tippi is the head in the back and Quinn's under her chin. Even now, they're keeping an eye out. 

Norwegian Elkhounds are loud. They sound like 6 or 8 dogs at once, so we have a pretty loud alarm system. And when you see Tippi barreling down on you, it gives you pause. She's a big girl. 

I had to put a little step-stool under the window, just to keep my woodwork intact. Even so, when Tippi gets very excited, she gets her paws up on the windowsill. 

At the rate they're having conniptions with the wildlife out there, I won't have to take them for a walk. They'll tire themselves out. But I do fear for my window every once in a while. 

So, let me hear from you! I love comments, and I like to hope that you're enjoying my little bits and bobs. 

An Epiphany...

We interrupt the travel blog to bring you The Epiphany.

No, not the one that occurs after Christmas. This one was the one I had at 3 a.m. or so this morning.

Yesterday, we did the clear-out and clean-up of my deceased brother's house prior to getting it sold, since he died intestate (without a Will) and the house needs to be sold so that proceeds (if any) can be distributed to heirs. I say "if any" because, like 99.9% of 49-year-olds, there is some debt. But that's not the epiphany.

Yesterday was wearing, both because it was hotter than heck, and because you work like crazy to clean out; you find out more than you'd like about a person. You see things you wish you could un-see. You note the pathetic brevity of a human life, made even more so by the fact that he died just shy of his 50th year -- in the year 2013 -- of a heart attack. 

You realize that, in the case of a sudden death, someone (or in this case, several of us) descends upon your home, decides what's trash and what's either treasure or can be sold - and the great majority of everything we own, quite frankly, is trash. 

My mom was stunned at the trash in the back alley. All she said was "Oh my God." Yeah, that's a life that someone lived, reduced to trash that will be hauled away. We loaded up 4 vehicles with stuff that we had to go through; the few things that could be sold; stuff that needed to be returned (work uniforms, etc.); stuff that needs to be handed over to the kids... all that. 

And as I look around my office here, I wonder. What will happen to all of this? This is "stuff I really need" - at least I think so. But the kids? Not so much, probably. Who will go through my books? What will happen to the guitars (though I already know the answer to that one)? And what about my yarn stash? The CDs? We have boys; nobody's going to be clamoring for my evening bags or fighting over my craft stuff. 

Anyway, I wasn't sleeping this morning. Again. And I was pondering, because I met one of Bro #2's friends yesterday. A very soft-spoken guy, and I had to wonder. Bro #2 and I didn't get along; let's just get that out of the way. It was difficult to hold a civil conversation for more than a few minutes. 

But at his wake and funeral, the 3 remaining siblings heard about his "kindness," his "empathy," his "dedication to his job," and "how much we all enjoyed being around him." 

Really? Who is that guy and why didn't HE ever show up at family events? Why did WE get the loudmouth, bigoted, ignorant jerk who once said to Kid #1, "That long hair makes you look like a hippy fag - I'll cut it off for you" as he grabs him by the ponytail. For what it's worth, Kid #1 had (and still has) gorgeous hair, even when it was down to his shoulders. And for the record, when it got slightly below his shoulders, he cut it off and donated it to Locks of Love. So there.

And for what it's worth, I told him that if he ever laid a hand on my kid again, he'd draw back a nub. Kid #1 told me later, "It's ok, Mom. That just him." 

Anyway, who was that guy? Why did we not know him? We saw evidence that, in spite of him being somewhat of a ne'er-do-well, he was trying to get his life together. Maybe the Big 5-0 was staring him in the face and perhaps he felt some urgency. Bro #1 told me the other day, "You know, if maybe we'd had another 5 years, we would have FOUND that guy everyone was complimenting. But our brother died before WE could find that guy."

Was that guy always there, but we didn't notice? Well, that guy may have been there, but we didn't get a chance to see him. It was all bluster and bravado, and his oldest kid was (and is) the same way. Everything was always a contest. Always one-up, always bigger, badder, nastier.

And then, at 3 a.m. or so it hit me. 

College. 

Rather, the LACK of college. Between me, Sis, and Bro #1, we have EIGHT college degrees. Out of all the grandsons, 3 of them have at least a Bachelor's degree. Between us - the siblings - there's a nurse, an engineer, and a double Master's Degree manager. For what it's worth, I win the tally on "the most diplomas." But either way.

It was college. Bro #2 barely made it out of high school. For a while, he was a cop. That's a totally honorable profession, of course, but due to circumstances lost in the mist of memory or just Not Talked About, he left his police job after about a decade. 

But the rest of us went to college (as adult students paying our own way, but nevertheless - we went). I think that perhaps the bravado and bluster were coping mechanisms because he felt that he wasn't "up to our standards." The pecking order is, pretty much, that I'm the smartest one, Bro #1 is next, Sis is a very close #3 -- and then there's Bro #2, a/k/a "The Baby."  At least that's how it's perceived. 

Frankly, Bro #1 and I think that Sis beats us...She's a nurse, and really, for all the "smarts" I have, I barely made it out of high school Chemistry alive. I think it's totally awesome that she can save (and has saved) lives. I also think it's amazing that Bro #1 builds experimental airplanes. Me? I can write and I have a really good memory for stuff that nobody else either sees or chooses to store in their brain; I'm also pretty good at leading people and having disparate groups of people play well together. There are the usual things that can't be quantified that I do that nobody else in my family does, but as far as straight-up academics, THAT is one thing I can do really, really well.

And I believe that Bro #2 was distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe he felt like nobody valued what he did. Maybe he felt like he was dumped on as a child. Maybe he felt like all of us were successful and he wasn't, nor was he likely to be. Maybe - just maybe - he felt like he had to be a jerk to get any attention, because we truly can be a loud and obnoxious bunch when we get together. As the youngest in the family, might it have been that he felt that in order to gain ANY attention, he had to be a snot? 

I don't know. I will never know. But I think I'm on to something.

I still have a lot more work to be done; there's a whole big recycle tote with paperwork in it. I have to go to the bank tomorrow to set up the estate account. I have a few things that I have to document and file away. Stuff needs to be cataloged on the balance sheet I'm doing. I have to check with a Realtor to get the house up for sale. I have to chase down a bank account (evidence of which we found yesterday). Mail is transferred to my house. I had to put the utilities for the house in my name. We're missing a garage door opener and a car title. 

It's a mess. 

But within that, I have to say this gives me a good impression, if I didn't already have one, of the brevity of life -- and what happens when you leave it unexpectedly and someone else has to clean up the mess. 

I'm not saying that there's a "perfect" departure. Even the most organized among us will leave some little mess when we go. There will always be clean-up. But this? This is a really large undertaking and I am feeling the pressure to "fix" what I really can't fix. It is what it is, and honestly? It ain't pretty. 

But I'm going to do the best I can. Because that's how it's done. I know we didn't get along. And I'm not sure that extra 5 years that Bro #1 wanted would ever have begun to chip away at over 40 years of idiocy. But I will do this so that his kids get whatever little bit they can, and I can at least leave his final affairs tidied up as best I can do. That's all I can do for him now. That's all that's left. 

Wrapping My Head Around It and Chaos Theory...

This is the stuff of "Movie-of-the-Week" material. For those of you who have never known the joy of an external antenna and only 4 channels (that would be pre-cable days), the Movie of the Week was a big deal. 

And that's kind of where my family is at right now. Movie-of-the-Week material. I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it, and I'm feeling as if I'm in the midst of an experiment in Chaos Theory.

There have always been 4 of us siblings. But now there's only 3.

This past Saturday, I had to break the news to my mother that her youngest child was dead. My youngest brother died 3 days prior to that (approximately) of a heart attack in his home. He was 49 - would've been 50 this weekend. 

I don't want to get into gory details and air all the family laundry. But you do need some history. In every family, there's the odd duck, and that was my baby brother. 

Frankly, he and I didn't get along. The family dynamic is difficult to describe. One parent an alcoholic, the other emotionally abusive and manipulative. It was not a pretty childhood. 

Those conditions made us all what we are today, though. In many ways, the die is set at childhood, and it's less "nature" than "nurture" in my opinion.

I don't know what went "wrong" in the family, but for some time, we were quite fractured. Some of that persisted into adulthood. It was never resolved between parents and children. It probably never will be.

There are the "unspoken" things. The things we as kids understand but we keep from our remaining parent. We all know that we're being played. It took us a while to figure that out, because it's a parent's job to be straight with you, right? Not necessarily. 

Anyway, my younger brother was that Odd Duck. And now, at not yet 50, he's not here. There will be a hole in the family regardless of the fact that there were times when we declared him totally useless. Regardless of the fact that it was just easier for me to not speak to him any more than was necessary. Regardless of the fact that most of the nephews thought he was a moron because he was mean to them. They all had enough respect to just blow off the behavior and move forward.

But the Chaos Theory thing is what I'm having difficulty with. Death is final. And there are processes and procedures. There really is no room for drama in the beginning. Save it. See, perhaps this is the viewpoint of the eldest child of a chronic alcoholic and an emotional abuser. It's my "job" to just keep paddling the canoe and moving toward a goal. I have to. It's the way I function.

But the Chaos Theory that is my remaining parent is insisting that this death be dealt with as if the sky is falling, the earth is going to collapse and nothing else is relevant. My remaining parent is, as the Victorians would put it, "overcome with grief." 

My theory is "jumped onto the Crazy Train." Maybe that's harsh. My remaining parent is trying to play the remaining 3 of us against each other, just when you'd think you'd want everyone to pull together. Well, we are together. We 3 siblings are united in trying to keep the drama at a minimum. The parent wants to be the center of attention, and will get to do that. Because of the way this parent functions, it'll be all the worker bees around the hive.

And here's my problem. I'm not fitting and not feeling it. Everyone has offered condolences, and I thank you. But I'm not sad. I'm not... anything. I'm sad for his kids. I'm sad for the fact that a parent has lost a child entirely too young and too suddenly. But I'm not sad that I lost a relationship, because there never was a relationship. I feel fake for accepting condolences, and I'm having to really bite my tongue and keep from saying, "Thanks but save it for someone else; we weren't close." 

People have told me that even though we were estranged, I'll feel it. Because the square is now a triangle. Strange, though. The triangle that has existed with us for so many years has always felt more stable than the square that we grew up with. 

I'm happy to have the kind of relationship with the other 2 that means we can call each other and say, "Ok, I heard ............. Now, what's the story?" because there always has been a story. And each of us only got one piece of it - never the same piece either.

I can't deal well with manipulative people. Just tell me what's going on. Just cut the drama, skip the hyperbole and let's get this problem solved or this issue addressed or just tell me what's needed. I don't deal with the vapors, the hysteria, the cunning and meanness that is manipulation of someone else against another. I just can't. I'm not wired that way. 

So it's going to be a week of tension and stress. I have learned that it's important, though it may seem cruel, to disengage. To keep neutral. To breathe away the tension. All of that will be in play this week. 

And then we'll cobble together what's left of the family. We will gather as parents with our own families, telling the kids that it's important to NOT be this dysfunctional. We will gather as siblings around our remaining parent and try to remember that a parent is a parent, regardless of the emotional fallout. 

We will gather as siblings among ourselves and reinforce the relationships that keep us standing upright and knowing that, for better or worse, we are here for each other in the rough times. We may not be the Waltons, we're not touchy-feely kind of folks. But there's a bedrock there, and I need to believe that at least with the 3 of us, the relationship transcends spouses, parental issues, all that. I don't know how to be eloquent right now. 

I do know that the triangle that is made up of the 3 of us is immune to the Chaos Theory that is now swirling around us. And right now, that's all I know.

Perhaps a Reboot?

I'm not looking to be the Yarn Harlot. Not even the Pioneer Woman. I'm just looking to exercise my writing chops, perhaps inject a little humor into someone's day, and natter on (and on and on...) about things I like, such as my dog, knitting, etc.

So I'm thinking of a reboot of sorts. Some sort of structure to The Blog. I think I tried this a while ago and it failed somewhat spectacularly when I just didn't blog for months on end...But I have been looking at what other folks are doing, and I like bits and pieces. And I prefer to adapt things to my own way of doing them. Who doesn't, right?

So I was thinking that perhaps each post should have ONE THING about knitting. Or maybe one specific day could be my "Randomly" day. I feel like I need to talk more about reading. It's seeming to me that this is generally a "knitting blog" which is fine but when you use The Google, you see about 20,500,000 entries for the term "knitting blog." Seriously. I just did it. 

But I'm not going to do that now. I'll probably start next week. I like the idea of "starting at the beginning" and technically, this being Saturday, it's the "end" of my workweek. So we shall see how this shakes out next week. I'm still committed to not losing sight of the blog. Maybe not a daily entry, but at least 3 times per week. 

Heart...

As expected, nothing showed up on the 24-hour monitor. And because we have The Big Trip coming up, the doc didn't want to do a 30-day monitor. That would no doubt cause a crap-load of trouble with the TSA and its foreign equivalents. "No, seriously, here's a note from my doctor. It's a HEART MONITOR." 

When we get back, I'm to have an ultrasound for some reason: mostly so my doc can make sure things are doing what they're supposed to do.

In the meantime, he says, basically, mazel tov - have a wonderful trip. To my question about a tandem parasailing adventure, he said, "Even if you keeled over, it's not life-threatening, and there's a doctor in Bordeaux who's done more atrial ablations than anyone else. Ever. He's fantastic." 

Thanks, doc. So there's no problem with me strapping myself to a parasailing expert and flinging myself off a minor Alp, gliding along at thermals approximately 10,000 feet up. Gulp. 

Here's a video of what we're thinking of. Problem is, Hubby wants to do one at a higher elevation (go for it, dear - you've got excellent life insurance coverage), but he's thinking of us doing them on the same day. My idea was the lower elevation, mainly because I'm not all that physically fit lately, and I don't want to climb up the mountain! Which is a problem for 2 reasons: First, we end up in two totally different cities, and I'm not planning on taking my cell phone. I don't speak French. Second, we're only bringing the one camera and the GoPro. We can't both be using them at the same time. So we're still negotiating that. We'll be in that area for 2 days, so my thought was one each day. 

Dear Mother Nature...

Of course, leading up to the trip, I'm having "periodic visits" after being a long while without. So, Dear Mother Nature: Could you please just shut off and STAY OFF? While I will, with great regret, miss your monthly (sometimes MULTIPLE times a month) visits, I will try my utmost to adapt. What? You caught that great steaming pile of snark there? Sorry about that. I'll try to be more sincere. 

Please, please, PLEASE don't make me haul a ton of "sanitaries" in my luggage. I just would rather you confine your visits to -- well -- to NO visits, thanks. I'm 55. When does this shut off? Thanks, but I no longer wish to be a hormonal over-achiever. 

Knitting...

So I do have most of the stash photographed (including the new stuff) and then yesterday, Doris hauled off and handed me some more. What? Say no? Who are we kidding here? I have some lovely bright red cotton - a sweater's worth, if not a little more, and some fantasy yarn that I have no idea what to do with. I will get them photographed before the Obligatory Birthday Party Appearance and up on Ravelry. Perhaps Ravelers will have an idea; they usually do!

Along with that my friend Joan is doing a project which will require Sonda's Hand-Dyed. As you know, my friend Sonda is no longer with us, and Joan is her mom. Her project is to knit something for each of the kids/grandkids from what remains of Sonda's Hand-Dyed. Doris gave her some purple and I have the yellow/orange in stash. So I'll go rooting today or tomorrow to see what I can find - I think it's a good thing and even though I had something planned for my last hank, this is a better place for it. I'll adjust and grab another Lorna's Laces or something for the shawl I was planning. 

Obligatory Birthday Party Appearance...

So I have a friend that I've known for nigh onto 45-ish years. We used to be close. Then we drifted. Then we rebooted. Now, it seems that we're re-drifting. Her daughter produced a grandchild, which is fine, even though I have fairly strong (surprisingly conservative) views on this. Actually, let me explain. I have no problem with single mothers. Stuff happens. I do have a problem if, when you're of an age to actually support yourself and perhaps the child you produce, you summarily decide that your mother can raise the kid. And I have a truly large problem with said mother, after herself having a mini-stroke, saying to me, "Oh, they're living here rent-free, she's not working, we're paying for the lawyer for the daddy to pay support, and yeah, we babysit a lot because, you know, Sally needs her social and recreation time." 

No. She doesn't. OK, every parent, to the best of their ability, needs a break. But dumping the kid on your mom every single weekend isn't a break. It's obnoxiously annoying and depriving your mother of a life of her own. 

Now, perhaps the friend LIKES this. She's (in my opinion) lived vicariously through her kids ever since they've been born, cloaking it in "being an involved mother." And perhaps I'm looking at it from my own standpoint of "the kid (daughter) is nearly 30 and maybe she needed to take responsibility BEFORE there was a baby." Or maybe, as my kids have told me, I'm looking at it from the lens of how I raised them: "I will do my utmost to support you in whatever you choose, but I raised you, and barring a medical issue, I'm not planning to raise your kids." Yep. That's what I told my kids. And no, my kids don't hate me for saying that. They kinda like the clear communication. 

Anyway, the OBPA is because I'm really seriously thinking of terminating the friendship - for a number of reasons, including the fact that she doesn't call till she needs something from me, and when I call, there are vague "Oh yeah, we need to get together sometime" mutterings. But there's no time or effort in this friendship anymore. 

The OBPA is for the grandbaby. Every year. I'm the geeky one who brings books. No electronics and no toys. Books have an on/off switch. And they have bright colors and pictures. And I love books. So there. 

In truth, one part of me is sad about how this relationship has devolved, but the other part is actually kind of relieved. It's too much work to resuscitate something that's not willing to breathe on its own. We have, over the past few years, only been able to get together at Christmas Eve - an open house at her place. We used to get together for walks in the neighborhood (hers or mine), shopping jaunts, lunch on each one's birthday. The annual girls' weekend away. Random but regular phone calls. Each one of us initiated these things more or less equally. The work of the friendship was shared. 

Yes, I know, friendships change. But I'm of two minds here. This person has known me longer than anyone else except my immediate family. But I really don't want a 90/10 friendship. It would be different if it was a fluctuating division: you all know there are situations where every friendship waxes and wanes. Times when YOU feel like you're carrying the load and then other times when you NEED to be carried. 

But this is just so much less. At one point, we were communicating through e-mail, but "I can't do that anymore because Georgie is always with us and he likes to pound on the keyboard when I'm at the computer." Notwithstanding the fact that the kid needs to learn how and when he can "pound on a keyboard" --- there's the issue of when it's ok for you to have an adult friendship of your own. She has a habit of whining that she's got no friends.

Well, it happens when you don't participate. And I don't know what to do with this. I guess we'll have to see what develops today. There were, to paraphrase Simon & Garfunkel "mumbled such-are promises" of getting together prior to this party, but nothing happened except a short text exchange. That's not a friendship. That's an energy-sucking relationship.

Soooooooooooo.... We shall see, I guess.  

New Prince George...

Congratulations to Will & Kate. Now, can we please learn some basic biology? The female (yes, FEMALE) British correspondents were announcing breathlessly that Kate was "FABULOUS" for birthing a boy. 

This is, I believe, 2013, though some of our more regressive conservative politicians would have us believe that it's actually 1813 as far as women go. But I digress.

Biology 101, courtesy of Sister Faith at my high school: The MALE determines the gender of the fetus. 

Just pointing that out. Now you may resume gazing at the adorable baby pics. And please stop bashing Kate because she "hasn't lost the baby bump." Good God... She's all of 105 pounds and delivered an 8 pound+ baby. It took 9 months to grow that bump. Leave her alone.