Six month follow up…

Six month follow up…

I laid there with my arms over my head, an IV dripping into a vein in the crook of my arm. My knees were bent with a foam wedge under them. As my body moved in and out of the round tube, my body rushed with the chemicals they pumped into my arm. A plastic voice ordered, “take a big breath and hold it.” And then later, “breathe.” While magnets whirred around my body, I could feel the anxiety rising, threatening to close off my airway. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. A few minutes later, the Tech said, “are you okay?” I nodded yes, of course. I’m fine. But I thought, I don’t know. That’s why I am here. Continue reading “Six month follow up…”

An alpaca farmer…

An alpaca farmer…

For a dozen years my sweet husband has had a secret love. He’s been dreaming of the day when he might become an alpaca farmer. He fell in love when he helped his cousin on her alpaca farm and has been talking about it ever since. We’ve visited farms. He’s researched online. We’ve talked about the possibilities and discussed the challenges. We purchased our home with the thought that “someday” we might add alpacas. Continue reading “An alpaca farmer…”

Mountain Day…

Mountain Day…

Each October, students at my alma mater wait expectantly for the president to call Mountain Day. An annual tradition, the bells ring out to announce the cancelation of the day’s classes. Students spend the day enjoying the glorious autumn countryside. Tradition encourages students to climb a nearby peak where ice cream is served at the top (Hoodsie Cups all around). The view is spectacular, the company is friendly, and the tradition is an important part of the fall semester. Continue reading “Mountain Day…”

Outside…

Outside…

I was nine years old, in the middle of a summer at my Aunt Anita’s house near the Puget Sound in Washington state. When we weren’t out on the water in my uncle’s commercial fishing boat, long summer days were spent in their sprawling old home. Each afternoon when it was “time to play outside,” I could be found perched on top of the three cement stairs that lead to the kitchen. I would lean my back against the screen door and read my book. I could be forced to go outside, but they couldn’t make me like it. Continue reading “Outside…”

Small goals…

Small goals…

I am a big goal setter. We’ve spent the better part of thirty years crossing large goals off the list. Earn my degree. Visit New Orleans. Plan cross-country trip with my kids. Create a magical wedding. Buy our dream house. Each of these goals included layers of planning, orchestration, and implementation. Spreadsheets, color-coded keys, and planning grids have helped to make these dreams a reality. Continue reading “Small goals…”

Fear of missing out…

Fear of missing out…

I can’t sleep when I travel. Instead of laying my head back and resting my eyes from the passenger seat, I drive. A few years ago, Keith and I drove to Oregon and back for our summer vacation. I drove almost the whole six thousand miles. I don’t fall asleep with the television on. I can’t relax while things are happening. I could lay on the sofa, but I would just listen to what was happening, afraid I might miss something. I can’t even fall asleep with music on. My brain is wired to pay attention. As a child, I would linger at the bedroom door, listening to adults talking in the other room, while I was supposed to be sleeping. I never wanted to miss a thing. Continue reading “Fear of missing out…”

By the sea…

By the sea…

As I walked down the misty beach, I was reminded of so many other days spent walking with my feet covered in sand, my hair blown back, and the worries of the world pushed away by the rolling surf and clear horizon. It wasn’t your traditional beach day, fog and mist held the temperatures down and the sun struggled to break free from the gray. But, for me, it was a perfect beach day. A day to reconnect me, to myself and the younger me who walked miles and miles on empty beaches letting the sharp edges of life be worn smooth by the effect of wind, sand, and sea. Continue reading “By the sea…”

Savoring August…

Savoring August…

After almost thirty years in New England, I recently realized that although I am a fan of both October and May, it is August that has my heart. From beginning to end, August fills my soul. This year, I have enjoyed each of the 31 days, rolling them around in my mind like penny candy. Although it is my nature to jump ahead, this summer I’ve lingered over the golden light of August and allowed my senses to fully attend to sights, sounds, and delights of late summer. Continue reading “Savoring August…”

Grandma’s china…

Grandma’s china…

As these things go, my grandma’s china came to me. My mom packed it up in boxes and shipped it across the country a long time ago. The first Christmas after it arrived, I carefully cleaned it and set the table for holiday dinner. Later, I told my mom how special it was to use the china, but couldn’t get over how small the plates were. We chuckled about how serving sizes have changed over time. Continue reading “Grandma’s china…”