It was a Dark and Stormy Night...
Tuesday, January 24, 2012 by brave girl
It's just another night on the Oregon Coast.
It's just another night on the Oregon Coast.
Living w/The Parents Chapter One
Sunday, January 22, 2012 by brave girl
Don’t get me wrong. I am very thankful to be able to live at my parents. I needed a place to live and they invited me in. It’s not easy for them either. In fact, I think I might be able to write a book about it. I’m gathering material. Some starters:
Nazi Soup
My dad made soup for dinner. It was delicious. Just as I requested, no tomatoes, just beefy hamburger/vegetable soup. Yum. Now when Dad makes something, he expects a critique. He expects you to let him know how much you like it. For example, his specialty is spaghetti. He makes good spaghetti. But lately he has been boasting that every batch is “the best he’s ever made.” So back to the soup. Well, this soup was tasty, but it didn’t have enough veggies in it. A bit too much broth, not enough substance. The next morning I was ladeling some up to take with me work and he mentioned that he was going to add some more veggies. I told him, “Yeah, you better because it’s like Nazi Soup. You know, from the Seinfeld show, the soup that had nothing in it but broth?”
Well, meaning absolutely no disrespect by mentioning the Nazis, I effectively illustrated the problem with the soup. Not enough in it.
By the way, when I got “home” from work today, he told me that there was some Nazi Soup on the stove…with more vegetables.
Ashes to Ashes
Monday, December 26, 2011 by brave girl
Traditional day after Christmas burning of the paper and boxes. In addition to the “festive garbage” I decided to burn some of my boxes of documents that I have had in storage for eight years. Copies of checks…statements…old bill receipts…all for Fawcett Creek Farm. My ex-husband and I used to own a dairy called Fawcett Creek Farm. I have kept the papers for all of these years, responsible to the guidelines for retaining documents schedule. I did the right thing. I carried through.
I thought it would be simple…throw the papers on the bonfire and poof…they would be gone. What I wasn’t prepared for was the rush of emotion all of those snippets of paper caused. I found bits and pieces of memories; old Christmas cards that had made their way into the financial boxes. Old contracts and promises. Pieces of our life when there was an “us” and a testament to years of hard work and hopeless dreams. I had to see those papers. I was left to burn them to keep them from prying eyes and identity thieves. I had to do the clean up. Destroy everything that said both of our names on it. I should have dropped off the boxes on HIS front porch, but I didn’t trust him to destroy them properly. I had to spend two hours reliving the new Honda 4trax we bought our son and paid for. The receipts for the milk that we shipped to the creamery. He should have had to relive those pieces of the past that needed to be erased. Instead it was as it has always been…he got off easy. He just walked over people and walked away. Just start over without a care or thought of the past. Simply a selfish man, who fooled so many for so long.
I watched all of the documents burn and raked and turned over that pile of papers again and again to make sure it all burned. It did…and I felt good…satisfied when it was all over. I felt a bit smug and powerful as I tossed it all away and watched the pieces disappear into bits of floating ash. I controlled the fire and decided when and where to destroy the evidence of our past. Should have did this years ago, but it wasn’t the right time. Now was the time.
The flames died and the ashes were raked into the earth. I got into my truck and drove away.
Christmas 2011
by brave girl
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| Reaanne, Christopher, Chad, Eddie and Lesley...Christmas 2011 |
Ok…so I’ve been very negligent in blogging. My resolution is to be more faithful in offering my two-cents worth and blog more. So here it goes…
Since I wrote last, I have moved from my little house into my parent’s home up the road. I have (what I call it) a studio apartment that used to be the family room. I have my own entrance and bathroom, so it is quite the adventure of adjustment. Thanks to divider bookcases at Ikea, I have a bedroom area, living area and an office area. Only what is strictly necessary made the move with me and the rest is back into storage. Last summer I had made it my goal to clear out and get rid of my storage unit and I did. Then a few weeks later, my brother and his wife decided I had to move from the little house, so back into storage my things went. What’s a plan, right? Due to the economy and price of rent, my single salary doesn’t go far enough for local rent rates, so the parents “made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” I seem to have come full circle…eight years ago, after the divorce, my daughter Lesley and I stayed in this very “studio” while we organized and found a place to live. Here I am back. I am thankful that I have a place to go. It makes you appreciate things and it helps a person to understand that what you have doesn’t matter; it’s how you treat people and how you show kindness and love. Too bad everyone doesn’t know that. Enough about that.
Christmas 2011 has come and gone. I have a miniature tree on my bookcase and my collections of Santas and snowmen are perched on the piano and bookcase, respectively. So even though space is tight, it does feel like Christmas in my room, surrounded by a few of my favorite decorations. My other decorations will live in their boxes until the time I have more room.
My two children, Chris (and his girlfriend, Reaanne) and Lesley (and her boyfriend, Chad) outdid themselves in the thoughtfulness department and presented me with awesome gifts. Slippers, a massage gift certificate (have to remember to make the appointment!) and a special music box selected by Chris (he even wrapped it himself and I don't think he has ever did that before!). I have to admit, the music box brought some tears to my eyes as it has a beautiful verse about mothers on the top and it opens to play the song, “You Can Always Count On Me.” I am so thankful for them and my new little grandson, Eddie, born to Lesley and Chad in November. He is a keeper, that’s for sure.
Speaking of Eddie…Edward Joseph Wilson was born on November 7. Edward is a family name and was the name of his daddy’s grandpa. Joseph is Lesley’s dad’s middle name. He is a blessing and being grandma rocks! As I look at Eddie, I am drawn into a time warp because it seems as though it was just yesterday when Chris and Lesley were babies. The years have careened by and all of the memories a person vows to keep become hazy blurs. I guess that way it forces us to appreciate each moment because moments will never be as clear as they are at the time they happen.
I’ve enjoyed being on Christmas Break from work. Ah…the life of a school employee. I’m storing up my moments of rest, because when I return to work in January we will be preparing for our annual Charity Drive and I will get no rest at all, since I am a Junior Class advisor. It will be meetings, preparation and planning, in addition to the normal daily work routine. Charity Drive isn’t until February, but a ton of planning precedes the event, that is for sure! I wrote about Charity Drive last year, so you can look up one of my past entries for explanation.
Enough for now. I have a movie to watch and a couch calling my name.
Summertime...Sweet Summertime
Friday, June 17, 2011 by brave girl
Reminds me of a Bob Seeger song, Night Moves. Summertime. This is starting out to be the type of summer that requires one to be very flexible and "go with the flow." Thought I had a part time job all sewn up and received a call an hour before I was to report to work telling me that they might not be busy enough to need me. Talk about shock! As I work for the school district, I have a two month break and no pay check. So after a day of feeling sorry for myself, I pulled myself up and got to work making contacts with prospective clients for my freelance graphic design business, FoxHurliman Graphic Design. I am happy to say that I have a few projects now lined up and hopefully more will follow. God is faithful and when a door is closed, another will open. True that.
I'm cleaning out my storage unit. Moved almost all of my belongings there seven years ago when I got divorced. Decided it was more than time to go through everything and keep, give away, discard, you know the drill. It's been fun and worth the work as I have found a lot of memories in there.
One sweet memory I found was my journal from my freshman year of high school that I kept for English class. What a read! The funny thing is, I work at a high school and when the freshmen arrive each fall, they look and act so young. Reading through the journal, I rediscovered that I too, was young and inexperienced in ways I had forgotten such as the way I wrote and the words I chose. Even more magical are the ways that I am the same. I can see the "me now" in the words I wrote. The drama and the humor that I carry with me were there all along. The sentimentality and the way I looked at life when I was fourteen can be seen in bits and pieces 30 plus years later. Even after years of living and times of broken hearts, the same hopefulness and positive attitude of that fourteen year old remain.
Like looking back through veiled time, the images of those times gradually unlock themselves from the recesses of my brain and I can see the faces of the friends that I cared for and the boyfriend that is no longer alive. Bittersweet, yet part of a passionate life that has been well-lived.
My life...
I'm cleaning out my storage unit. Moved almost all of my belongings there seven years ago when I got divorced. Decided it was more than time to go through everything and keep, give away, discard, you know the drill. It's been fun and worth the work as I have found a lot of memories in there.
One sweet memory I found was my journal from my freshman year of high school that I kept for English class. What a read! The funny thing is, I work at a high school and when the freshmen arrive each fall, they look and act so young. Reading through the journal, I rediscovered that I too, was young and inexperienced in ways I had forgotten such as the way I wrote and the words I chose. Even more magical are the ways that I am the same. I can see the "me now" in the words I wrote. The drama and the humor that I carry with me were there all along. The sentimentality and the way I looked at life when I was fourteen can be seen in bits and pieces 30 plus years later. Even after years of living and times of broken hearts, the same hopefulness and positive attitude of that fourteen year old remain.
Like looking back through veiled time, the images of those times gradually unlock themselves from the recesses of my brain and I can see the faces of the friends that I cared for and the boyfriend that is no longer alive. Bittersweet, yet part of a passionate life that has been well-lived.
My life...
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