I spied tiny spikes of bright green today where the snow had melted away in the garden! Yes, it is coming - spring, summer, warmth, sunshine, bees, hummingbirds, wild raspberries and blackberries!!
With this warmth comes another change - a new job - starting Monday. I am excited but hope I am not jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. It comes with a longer commute but a nicer builder and a bigger paycheque. Hunter is starting a new job in a week and Storm starts kindergarden this fall, so lots of changes afoot - but good positive changes.
The View from my Hilltop
December 5, 2010 - Passion
Watched Julie and Julia last night. Neat movie. Big fan of Meryl Streep, I think she did a good job as Julia Childs, not so easy to pull that persona off. Never really knew Julia through her cooking shows, I imagine you either loved her or hated her. Have to admire the relationship she had with her husband. Inspiring life too - finding your passion at nearly 40 (I'm nearly 40). I can empathize with Julie too, stuck in a cubicle to pay the bills when you know what your passion is, but you are unable to kindle it. So close, you can visualize the life you want to live, know you'd be happy living it, but unable to get it started. Frustrating - spinning your tires on ice when all you want to do is GO!
Puss (2004-2010) - October 18, 2010
I lost a good friend this weekend. We buried him down the road under some coniferous trees in a spot touched by the morning sun. He loved to lay in the sun. His friend Max watched our procession down the hill. Did he know his friend lay curled up in the plain brown box my husband carried? My little girl cried, I cried, I think even my husband was sad. We didn't say any words as we lay him in a deep hole my husband dug. No words were needed, our tears said it all. We tossed in his favorite treats and his red ball and two purple flowers. My little girl wanted to know if he needed water to drink too.
We shovelled the dirt back over him - to keep him warm and safe we told her. After a few silent moments we turned and made our way sadly back up the road toward home.
You were a good cat Puss. I'll miss your evening visits and your attempts for attention while I lay reading in bed; the way you'd thrust your head under my book looking for that chin rub and how you'd purr so loudly in contentment when I finally gave in.
I'll miss everything about you, I already do.
We shovelled the dirt back over him - to keep him warm and safe we told her. After a few silent moments we turned and made our way sadly back up the road toward home.
You were a good cat Puss. I'll miss your evening visits and your attempts for attention while I lay reading in bed; the way you'd thrust your head under my book looking for that chin rub and how you'd purr so loudly in contentment when I finally gave in.
I'll miss everything about you, I already do.
 |
| Puss tolerating his friend Max |
Looking at 20 years, no parole - August 10, 2010
Yesterday was a day of mourning for me - it was the official end of a year reigning my own little queendom, a year of freedom (well somewhat... but that's a long story about an even longer road and no car), my one on one year with Baby Breeze - yes, the end of my maternity leave. It's all gone now for the most part. I have returned to life (okay, I won't be melodramatic, it's really only a 20 year sentence) in A CUBICLE. I refuse to say "reality" because life in THE CUBICLE no way resembles how humans were meant to live. Prisoners have more freedom.
I walked into a space the size of my kitchen island, looked out a window that was so covered in murkiness I couldn't see the grimy rooftops below. I breathed in and choked - stale, warm air; I looked around at the dirty carpet and chased crumbs from their hiding spot underneath the monitor.
My neurons were rebelling and refused to fire - a meeting within the first hour! I tried to dredge up program history from the web-infested recesses of my working mind. I tried to focus on the upcoming deadlines, all urgent, all life threatening (my life that is). I couldn't. I didn't want to be there. My mommy brain was waging war with my working brain and it was no contest. I wanted to be outside, walking my baby down the hill, picking wild blackberries, breathing the fresh hilly air - my usual morning routine back home. Heck, I'd rather be changing a corn-infested, highly potent poopy diaper than be there.
My freedom is gone - no more games of chase and tickle with Baby Breeze, no more baking on impulse, catching a few minutes of TV, reading the newest blog postings, pulling a few weeds in the garden. All the spontaneity of life at home is gone.
BUT, I knew I wouldn't be able to face THE CUBICLE and all of its confines five days a week after 13 months at home so I am doing it slowly, no cold turkey for this gal. Home today and tomorrow the mourning starts all over again. On and off like that over the next few weeks until I can bear a full-time return. But all the while I will be planning my escape.
I used my year wisely...I did some soul-searching while the baby napped :) I found out what truly makes me tick and how I can combine my strengths with my interests to break free from THE CUBICLE. It's going to take time but when you are doing 20 years without parole (no more children for us and 20 years until retirement) time is all you have!
I walked into a space the size of my kitchen island, looked out a window that was so covered in murkiness I couldn't see the grimy rooftops below. I breathed in and choked - stale, warm air; I looked around at the dirty carpet and chased crumbs from their hiding spot underneath the monitor.
My neurons were rebelling and refused to fire - a meeting within the first hour! I tried to dredge up program history from the web-infested recesses of my working mind. I tried to focus on the upcoming deadlines, all urgent, all life threatening (my life that is). I couldn't. I didn't want to be there. My mommy brain was waging war with my working brain and it was no contest. I wanted to be outside, walking my baby down the hill, picking wild blackberries, breathing the fresh hilly air - my usual morning routine back home. Heck, I'd rather be changing a corn-infested, highly potent poopy diaper than be there.
My freedom is gone - no more games of chase and tickle with Baby Breeze, no more baking on impulse, catching a few minutes of TV, reading the newest blog postings, pulling a few weeds in the garden. All the spontaneity of life at home is gone.
BUT, I knew I wouldn't be able to face THE CUBICLE and all of its confines five days a week after 13 months at home so I am doing it slowly, no cold turkey for this gal. Home today and tomorrow the mourning starts all over again. On and off like that over the next few weeks until I can bear a full-time return. But all the while I will be planning my escape.
I used my year wisely...I did some soul-searching while the baby napped :) I found out what truly makes me tick and how I can combine my strengths with my interests to break free from THE CUBICLE. It's going to take time but when you are doing 20 years without parole (no more children for us and 20 years until retirement) time is all you have!
The Garden - July 26, 2010
Back when the perennials were just poking their heads through the soil, I vowed to nurture my garden and make good on that vow by posting photos throughout the season (see March 24/2010 post for photos). Hah. Here is the first photo since then and well, at least the plants are bigger than they were then, that's about all I can say. No time to nurture!
Waterlife - July 12, 2010
Did you watch the documentary "Waterlife" last week on the National Geographic channel?
It was eye opening to say the least. Beautiful, chilling and sad all at the same time. Here's just one example of what I learned watching it:
"You fill your prescription at the pharmacy. The pharmacist says 'be sure you don't take it with any of these 10 things'. But those 10 things are ALL in the water".
If you missed it, I really urge you to check out the award winning website - stunning!
http://waterlife.nfb.ca/
For additional information about the documentary, visit:
http://www.ourwaterlife.com/about.html
You'll never look at a glass or bottle of water the same way again.
It was eye opening to say the least. Beautiful, chilling and sad all at the same time. Here's just one example of what I learned watching it:
"You fill your prescription at the pharmacy. The pharmacist says 'be sure you don't take it with any of these 10 things'. But those 10 things are ALL in the water".
If you missed it, I really urge you to check out the award winning website - stunning!
http://waterlife.nfb.ca/
For additional information about the documentary, visit:
http://www.ourwaterlife.com/about.html
You'll never look at a glass or bottle of water the same way again.
Earthquake - June 23, 2010
I just felt my first real earthquake and did not like it one bit (we felt one once before in our first house just to the west of us but it was more of a noise like a truck than anything else)! Typing away here online in my kitchen with baby Breeze finally asleep and what the hell, everything starts rumbling and shaking and it is not stopping! I started to panick - just that out of control feeling of not knowing what is happening was awful. We've had some structural issues with the house and I thought "it's finally happening, the house is falling down". I ran down the hall where the baby was sound asleep, grabbed her, grabbed the phone, ran outside and called my husband. I was hyperventilating and crying like never NEVER before. I felt panicked. You know you are truly alive when you feel like that. My husband calmly told me it was an earthquake and he felt it in the city too. Once I calmed down and I went back inside all I found was one photo tipped over and two pictures on the wall slightly askew. What in God's name was it like for those poor people in Haiti, or Chile, or China? This minor 5.5 quake scared me at my core, what would it be like to experience the devastation those people lived through? I couldn't imagine.
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