The Lifting Fog

I haven’t been able to write. I haven’t been able to read. Neither have I been able to watch television or movies. I am in that place…that weird place, I don’t even know how to describe. Usually it is just my reading that is affected and I just can’t get through an entire book. But this time everything is affected – reading, writing, vegetating into TV-land. My brain is simply mush and won’t take on another thing.

This is how it has been at least since fall. Maybe longer. Oh I know I have typed out a blog post now and then, but it has been work. There has been no joy or relaxation in it.

Today, I feel like I can write. So I got up a bit earlier to give it a try.

I have also recently started a new book, and I do believe I will be able to get through it. I have started about 4 or 5 books over the last few months, but I have only read to about the 2^nd or 3^rd chapters in any of them. The one that has been able to hold my thoughts, finally,  is the one that I least expected. It is a big, thick, political book by Karl Rove. Oh, I know; everyone hates Karl Rove. I love him. He is a political strategist, pundit, and he was the campaign manager for George W. Bush when he ran for President. He is head of a political action committee, which strives to place conservatives into office. His nick-name is the Architect. Anyway, I am rambling now. I didn’t intend to write about Karl. But because I started, I will tell you the name of the book, it is The Triumph of William McKinley and Why the Election of 1896 Still Matters. It is so good so far. There will be a blog post/book report later, I am sure.

Anyway, let me get back on track. Writing…how come I can do it today? I don’t know. I just felt like I could. I went to coffee with my folks yesterday. My dad had started reading the book again that I wrote about him. He started telling me about it the minute we got to his house. Once we all arrived at coffee, much to my mother’s frustration, he was still talking about it. “It is so well-written.” He told me, just as if he had read it for the first time. Well sometimes it seems like that when it has been a while and one re-reads a favorite book. He wants me to get it published. I explained that it isn’t quite that good. And I explained it is expensive (for me, anyway) to self-publish. He actually seemed very disappointed. Mom changed the subject.

So, did that encourage me to write today? Nah, I don’t think so. The fog in my brain is simply beginning to lift. Why now? It’s been months. I don’t know. Things are a bit better. My dreaded January is almost over. I am able to pay attention a bit more to my own family and a little less to someone else.

My winter has consisted mostly of tears every morning out of frustration and fear as I scurry off on the drive I hate so much…fuming all the way, of course. Doing what needs to be done, then coming home and collapsing in my chair. It’s been a rough time. I have learned to surround myself with things I like to call “creature comforts”. I don’t really even know what that means. I don’t know if it is some phony Freudian psychology term, or if it comes from the Christian community. You know; part of the “Christianeze” we all like to use that makes us look like we know what we are talking about and also makes us look like we are just a tad more holy than the next guy.

I first heard the term in a Bible Study I was attending in the ‘70’s. I loved the pastor that taught the study. And he used the term one evening. Apparently I latched onto it, because I remember it all these years later. I have even written, on this blog, about it before. But honestly, I don’t remember if the pastor used it in a good way or a bad way in his teaching. I think I have only heard the term one other time in all these 40 plus years. I don't remember in what context. But let me tell you what "creature comforts" mean to me. Yes, God is our Comforter and we should need nothing more, but tangible things go a long way in helping us get through this life. None of us are above that fact, as much as we would like to be. Creature comforts are actually what I intended this post to be about. I’m finally getting to it a full typed page later.

Creature comforts that got me through this winter.  
              

·        Lighted, scented candles – My sister, sharing my burden, surprised me with one this winter. It is Peppermint Marshmallow entitled “JOY”. She knew what I was looking to find. Just a little…I lit it every time I got home on the dark winter nights.

·         Scented foamy hand soap - “Peppermint” - given to me (without a reason) from my oldest sis.

·         A crackling fire in the fireplace.

·         Dogs at my feet and on my lap.

·         A cup of hot Tomato soup.

       ·         Kleenex

·         4 pair of readers strategically placed where I like to read -  my bed, my recliner, my computer and my kitchen.

·         Smooth, creamy, aromatic hand lotion- strategically placed, by my bed, my recliner, and my computer.

·         Gloves, and boots and scarves.

·         The sound of turning Bible pages. When my son was about 5 or 6, he pointed this out to me one day when we were sitting in church. I never forgot it. Leave it to a child to notice something so very important that we adults are too busy or focused to think about. Such a comforting sound, whether reading alone, or in a group.

·         December 22^nd - the first day past the shortest day of the year. This is a huge landmark in me keeping my sanity.
·         Soothing throat lozenges - Halls Defense or Ricola - including the rustling of the bag in which they are contained.

·         Traditional, sentimental Christmas décor.

·         Sunrises, Sunsets.

·         Full moons and fingernail moons.

·         My muck boots that my boys got me for Christmas. OH MY! One of the best gifts ever! Competes with my horse bench and Charles Dickens Collection, but nothing will ever beat out the Alan Jackson tickets when my son was 15. 

·         My bed, my comforter and my feather pillows.

So there you have it, I probably forgot a few things that got me through the fog. Still working on it. I know I will get there. And now, I am going to go join Karl...everyone hates him.

It's What You Do

Laughter. I don't think there is anything that makes me laugh harder than when I see myself in certain situations and I can relate to the people involved.

I remember years ago watching a movie where the humor was so much like mine, I laughed through the entire 2 hours. Today, I don't even remember what movie it was. But I do remember the laughter. I had seen myself caught in the same situations as the heroin of the comedy over and over and over. Boy, could I relate.

Well I haven't laughed like that in some time. Until today. I was resting a while, not even paying that much attention to the television. I had actually dozed off. When I woke, I woke to the commercial in the video below. Though, I had seen other ads that were similar by the same company, it is the first time I had seen this one. I laughed and I laughed and I laughed.

I am not promoting the product I simply hope it makes you laugh, too.




Here is to more laughter in 2016...especially when it is at ourselves.

Working at Grace - The Christmas Tree Saga

Oh Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are your branches.  And it is time that you went up, once and for all! I mean it is the season, right?

I had been dropping hints to both my husband and my son, how I like to get the Christmas tree up early. And that I thought it was time to go get one. My hints fell on deaf ears.  They were both busy. My husband was having some difficulties with his hand and things simply didn’t seem to be working out.

I sought out my son’s help, texting him: “If we don’t get a tree pretty soon, I am not going to even want to put one up.” This was late for us; usually, we have our tree up the first few days in December. I hadn’t been feeling that well myself, and I was really feeling like putting a tree up was way too much work for only a couple weeks in advance. Truthfully, I didn’t really feel like having a tree at all, and I knew if we waited too long, it just wasn’t going to happen.

My son quickly texted back. “If you get the tree, I will help you put it up tonight when I get off shift.”

Alrighty then! I can do that. I had an appointment in the little town where we like to get our trees, anyway. I headed in early, so I could get everything done before my appointment; that way after, I could just head straight home before it got dark.

I also had several boxes in my car that I was planning on taking to Goodwill. It should work out perfectly. Take the boxes to Goodwill, go get the tree, and be just in time for my appointment. But we all know things, never work out perfectly. I arrived at Goodwill simply to find a sign that read: “Out to lunch. Be back at 2:00.” 

Ok, well that’s just a little bump. I will just go get the tree. Surely one will fit in the car if I move some of the boxes around. But we all know….

I started looking at the trees. They were beautiful this year. I found one that I really liked, perfectly shaped, but it was just a bit smaller than we usually get. I knew the guys liked the bigger trees.  So I looked a little further. And Bingo! I found the tree I couldn’t live without. It was beautiful!  A Grand Fir! And it was so fragrant the minute I pulled it up from its leaning position to get a better view I had no doubt that it was fresh. Ugh! But would it fit in my car? 

I went into the store to ask the clerk, if I could pay and then come back with a pickup. Could she set it aside for me for later? “No, we can’t do that”, she bluntly told me.

“Ok. Well then, can I see if I can fit it in my car before I pay for it?”

“Sure”, she kindly responded.  “This is a small town. We trust you. And all the proceeds go to our local food bank.”

Oh how I liked that. Now I realllllly wanted this tree. So I went back outside to look at it again. Yeah, it was perfect. I carefully drug it over to my car so as not to wreck any of the branches, and truthfully so as not to hurt my sore leg any further. There was no way, I could lift it. The next dilemma occurred to me as I opened up the back hatch of the car. How was I going to lift it in there?

That’s when I heard a voice behind me. “Would you like some help with that?” Much to my surprise, it was a woman; about my age. But I was smart enough to answer in the affirmative.  “Would you mind?” I quickly answered.

Then began the struggle. And oh what a struggle it was. I think the woman came to realize she was dealing with someone who was really quite daft. There was no way this tree was going to fit in this car. And when she saw all the boxes…Oh MY!!! But she had a spirit of determination, just like me. She was however, a little more worried about the tree then I was. She was not about to let any of those branches get bent. When I suggested we put the point forward so it would rest between the seats all the way through, she about had a heart attack…”But you will ruin all the branches when you pull it back out.”

I relented. And we turned it around the other way…but there was no way that was going to work…and it also became apparent that she was wrong. No matter which way we put the tree in, the branches would be bent the opposite way, either coming in or going out.

We pushed, we shoved, we pulled; we changed positions. We moved more stuff. It just wasn’t happening. Then she spotted a tarp that had never been out of the package on the floor of my car. “Can we use this?” she politely asked.

“Sure!” I enthusiastically responded. I immediately saw the benefit in what she was thinking. A little grace had just come our way.

“Now we just need something to tie the tarp to the tree,” she informed me. So I immediately started looking through the boxes that were going to Goodwill. I found some telephone cords that had never been out of the package. “Let’s use these!” I exclaimed.

So we busied ourselves with getting the tree tarped. Of course, the wind was gusting some pretty good gusts about this time. That’s how things go, you know. But we got it tarped. In the process, the window screen I had taken to have rescreened for my son’s new house, had gotten set out of the car until we could get the tree in, and the screen had been blown away never to be seen again. UGH!

But once tarped, the lady was comfortable with putting the tree in top-end first. It still required some repositioning of items, pushing, pulling, and shaking of heads. I finally remembered the back seats would lay down, and we could put the boxes on the seats when they were laid down. The head rests that had been so bothersome would then no longer be a problem. But I could only get one seat down. The other would not budge.

But one was enough. We pulled/pushed the tree the direction of that seat, and we finally had success. The tree was in!!

I thanked the lady (profusely), put the rest of the boxes back into the car and made my way back into the store to pay for the tree. As I headed into the store, I turned around to take another look at the lady and give her a wave good-bye. Oh my! If you could have only seen the expression on her face. It clearly read: “ARE YOU GOING IN TO PAY FOR THAT TREE??? YOU MEAN YOU HADN’T YET PAID FOR IT?  YOU MEAN YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO TAKE THAT EXACT TREE?????  YOU MEAN YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO PUT ME THROUGH THIS???” YOU, LADY ARE QUITE DAFT!!!!

Oh yeah! Pretty sure that was what she was thinking. I paid for the tree, delivered the boxes to Goodwill, went to my physical therapy appointment; and was home before dark. But that is just the beginning of my Christmas tree saga.

Christmas Tree Saga - Part II

Once I got home, getting the tree out of my vehicle was the easy part. It came out the way, I knew it would braches, pushed up – the way they are supposed to be. And of course it had helped that we had tarped it…sort of tarped it, that is.

I carefully drug the tree to the porch. Not so much for the tree’s sake, but for my own. I didn’t want to un-do what the physical therapy had just done. And there it would stay until Matt got here to help me put it up.

I busied myself with preparing dinner. I was going to make one of Matt’s favorites – beef stroganoff. And I had stopped and picked up his favorite pie for desert. No, I didn’t have time to make a home-made pie today.

But then I waited.  And I waited and I waited; and I waited some more. No Matt. Finally, about 9:00 I gave up and went to bed. There would be no sparkling cider, apple pie and Christmas tree decorating tonight.

I had just gotten into bed, when his text came. “I’m sorry! Late call. I will come now.”

“No, you don’t have to.” I texted back. “It’s late and you will have to get up early for shift tomorrow.”

“I want to,” he responded. “I feel bad for letting you down.”

“No.” I gave him easy grace. “Dad will do it.” I lied. I knew better. Dad wasn’t going to do it. Because I wasn’t going to wait that long.

“But you can stop by and get the pie I bought for you, you so can have it for shift tomorrow.”

“Ok. See you in a bit.”

Grace is good. He got here about 10:00 pm with apologies on his lips and in his heart.

"Don’t worry” I told him. “I understand. Was it a bad call?”

And he proceeded to tell me what details he could without violating anything that he should not reveal.

Listening as he shared, my heart was warmed. This was worth it all to see my son so happy with his job and so rewarded by what he does.

It is going to take a special woman to be the wife of a firefighter or police officer. She is going to have to have a servant heart exactly like them. Because it is a servant heart that is the thing that is most required to do the job that these men and women do. Their spouse will have to understand that, and be patient. They will need the same giving, servant heart in order to survive any of it. There is no room for self, for those (as well as their families) in either of these occupations.

“I will do the tree, Mom. It’s too big for you to do.”

“No, it’s late and you have to get up early. You need your sleep,” I reassured him. I will always be mom, first.

“Thanks for the pie, Mama! Love you.”

Christmas Tree Saga - Part III

I woke early, just as I always do. Late hours, don’t prevent me from waking at my normal time. Bullet is in control of that. He wants breakfast and he wants to go out for potty. And he wants both, like right NOW!

So once the animals were all taken care of and after I had a few minutes with a cup of coffee and some reading, I knew exactly what I would do next.  I was going to tackle that tree.  Now I knew this was going to be no easy task. I remember trying to put our tree up alone once when Matthew was little. The most difficult part was sawing off that base, so that it would be open to receive water to keep it fresh. I remember being in tears before I finally got that stupid base sawed through. I must not have had a very good saw.

So, it was this time. Four saws and quite a few tears later, I had made it through that base. Don’t know why I can’t saw!  But I CAN’T saw!!! “Lord, PLEAAAAASE let me do something right just one time.”

Sshh sshh sshh sshh sshh sshh sshh. Bam, I was finally through and I have the little round disk to prove it. I had received some much needed grace.

Alrighty then, let’s get this bad boy into the house. That wasn’t easy either. But with the kind lady’s advice fresh on my mind, I was smart enough this time to be paying attention which way the branches would be going when I pulled it through the door. This time it was going to have to go in base first. UGH!!!

But I did it. I had already gotten the stand out of the garage and laid down some towels to protect the carpet, just in case any moisture would be leaked. I was going to water that tree DAILY one way or another. I wasn’t about to lose all the efforts of my sawing and have it all be for naught.

Next challenge…lifting the doggone thing into the stand. Shouldn’t be doing this! For sure! But sometimes, one just gets so fed up with not being able to do anything, the anger just pushes one through. Such was the case, this time. Thank God for my anger. That tree would still not be set up if not for my raging temper. I wasn’t about to have all my sawing go to waste. That tree was going to be in water within a half hour or I was going to die doing it. Somehow by the Grace of God, I did it…and didn’t die.

Grace is good.

And sometimes just every so often, so is a little anger. But of course the tree was crooked. And I was pretty sure there was no way I would ever be able to make it straight by myself. But at least it was in water.  I gave up.

It was time to get ready to meet my friend, anyway, for the Christmas shopping we had planned. That’s when the phone rang.

“Jan, I’m sorry!  I can’t go.”

Well then, now I have time on my hands and that crooked tree is dead center in front of my face for the whole rest of the day. I can’t live like that. This is where Matt says, I have too much of my dad in me. The perfectionist that can never wait.

I remember someone telling me once that I was a perfectionist.  “I can’t be!” I had exclaimed. “Nothing that I do is ever perfect.”

The person just walked away laughing. I don’t remember who that was. I remember I was confused. I didn’t “get it”.  I do now. Perfection doesn’t mean things are perfect or are ever going to be. It means a perfectionist just has to work a little harder at understanding grace.

But back to that tree. I had the whole day. I had to get it decorated now that I had the time, and that meant I would have to get it set straight in the stand…all by myself. That meant getting down on my hands and knees to adjust the screws. I can’t do that right now…get down. If I do, I might never get back up.  But there is that thing in me, that just won’t relent…that thing that is going to make a tree fit in a car whether it fits or not….yes…that thing!

So down I went. I unscrewed and screwed…I pushed and pulled and pulled and pushed some more. I stuck my bad leg out and then I pushed the other one out. My arms were holding on to the chair…somehow I had to get up. I pushed with my arms and somehow managed to get up off the ground. I looked at the tree. It was still crooked, but not nearly as bad.  I made my way down to the floor, once again. I screwed and unscrewed…pushed and pulled.

I worked…and I mean I worked at getting up off the ground again. I looked at the tree. And miraculously….I saw – Grace!

Let the decorating begin!

 

 

At The End Of My Ride

The unusual evergreen was just a sapling when I used to look for it each time we drove to Spokane. Well, maybe it was a bit more than a sapling, but not by much.  It was just about the same size as my favorite maple tree that grew in the front yard of my childhood home in the 1960’s. I am not certain what species the little evergreen was that sat along the highway. I just called it a pine tree. In reality, I’m not sure it was a pine. But it was unusual and noticeable because it had a crook in the middle of the trunk about 4 feet from the ground. It almost looked like someone could sit there comfortably in that little crook.  And when we drove by, I always used to imagine there was indeed, someone sitting there.

When I was a kid in the late 50’s and early 60’s, the road we now call Seltice Way was then the main highway to Spokane. This little tree sat in the treed area (One can’t call it a median because it was a much larger area than that) between the east and west lanes of the highway. Yep, back then we just called it the highway – it was Highway 10.  Later we got the “freeway”. I believe construction of the freeway started in the late 60’s. I am not entirely sure. But I do know construction of the interstate from Wallace to Spokane was more than a decade long process, occurring from the late 50’s to 1970. It wasn’t until our little Coeur d’Alene community became much more “sophisticated” - probably in the 80’s or 90’s - that we started calling the freeway by its official name: “I-90”. Yeah right, it will always be “the freeway” to me.

But I digress. Back to my story of that little evergreen that grew by the “highway to Spokane” when I was a kid. As I said, every time we drove this highway, I would look for that tree with the crook in it. When I saw it, I pretended someone was sitting there, waiting for me. Sometimes he was there with his guitar. Sometimes he just sat there waving at us and smiling when he saw us approaching. But he was always there. Who was this faithful person always waiting there for me? Why, it was Rowdy Yates!! Oh, come on! You know Rowdy! Handsome, young ramrod from the hit television show Rawhide!  Clint Eastwood, in “real life”. Rawhide was a popular series that aired from 1959 to 1966. 


Rowdy Yates

I think I have written about Rowdy before. I probably had the worst crush a young girl could ever have on Rowdy Yates. When I was about 5, every time the show would begin I would wait for the credits to roll and they would show each of the stars' faces from this hit series. Gil Favor (Eric Fleming) the trail boss; Wishbone (Paul Brinegar) the cook; Pete Nolan (Sheb Wooley) the singing scout who watched out for trouble; and of course Rowdy Yates, (Clint Eastwood) the ramrod…whatever that meant. I LOVED each of these actors (still do) but When Rowdy’s face appeared on the television screen, inevitably I would be there waiting to kiss that handsome man on the TV screen. YES! I am admitting that! Please remember I was 5. Later when I was a bit older, I would play in the yard, as well as Grandpa’s pasture, pretending Gil Favor was my dad, Pete Nolan was my Uncle Pete, and Wishbone was my grandpa! Of course Rowdy Yates was my husband! Together, we would drive those cows, then put our horses away and have a good meal at the end of the drive that Wishbone had prepared for us.


Rowdy Yates and Gil Favor

Anyway, I digress once again – back to the highway…and Rowdy Yates...with his guitar. Like I said, he was always there waiting for me. Well over the years, after I became an adult (sort of), every so often I had occasion to drive that old highway. That fond memory of course would come to my mind and I would look for that tree. But it had been so many years that things had changed; I couldn’t really remember the exact location. The trees and bushes had all grown up, dynamics changed. I never again found that young sapling with the crook in the trunk. I quit looking a long time ago. UNTIL YESTERDAY!!! I wasn't even looking for it, but all of a sudden I spotted that familiar, but unusual tree!


Pete Nolan and Wishbone

Driving back (heading east) from my husband’s doctor appointment the tree caught my eye! I wasn’t looking for it because I was convinced a long time ago that the crooked tree was long gone. But then, suddenly right  "out of the blue" there it was. The funny thing was, when I was a kid, I always found it driving west – on our way to Spokane! This time, after all the years of looking, I found the tree as we drove east.  It was of course much larger, having lived and grown more than 50 years. The crook was still there, but it had all grown together, much as an old man would garner a big, fat gut from all the years of eating improperly without enough exercise. There was no longer room there for anyone to ever find a seat to sit and wait for me. But OH! I was happy to have found that tree! And guess what???!!! Rowdy Yates was still there!! Standing this time, weathered a bit with age; but playing his guitar, smiling and singing as we drove by!  



"Cut 'em out, ride 'em in, ride 'em in, cut 'em out, cut 'em out, ride 'em  in, Rawhide!  My heart's calculatin', my true love will be waitin', be waitin' at the end of my ride."

RAWHIDE

by Ned Washington
Recorded in 1958 by Frankie Laine

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'
Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'
Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'
Rollin' Rollin' Rollin' Rawhide

Rollin' rollin' rollin', though the streams are swollen
keep them doggies rollin', Rawhide!
Through rain and wind and weather, sure bent for leather,
wishin' my gal was by my side.
All the things I'm missin', good viddies, love and kissin',
are waitin' at the end of my   ride.

Move 'em on, head 'em up, head 'em up, move 'em on,
move 'em on, head 'em up, Rawhide!
Cut 'em out, ride 'em in, ride 'em in, cut 'em out,
cut 'em out,ride 'em  in, Rawhide!

Keep movin' movin' movin', though they are disapprovin'

keep them doggies movin', Rawhide!
Don't try to understand them, just rope, throw and brand 'em, 
soon we'll be livin' high and wide.
My heart's calculatin', my true love will be waitin',
be waitin' at the end of my  ride.

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin' Rawhide

 

HA!