Funky

I'm still getting used to sleeping in this house, and not over in that one. I's been almost two weeks. And cn I mention how much hARDER it s to type with a cat chnin between your thumbs? Ew. She drooled on the keyboard.

First off, the dog's arthritis is acting up, so he has to have "fart pills" three times a day to manage the pain. Sometimes the smell alone is enough to wake you up at night. Then there is the fact that we also think he has irritable bowels, so sometimes he throws up at night. Only at night, mind you. And only at either 1:30am, or somewhere between 3:45-4:45am. The puking is always proceeded by a rather wet lip-smacking.

It sounds like this:
"shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk... shlmachk..."

Oddly enough, this sounds exactly like when the dog cleans between his toes-- which he also seems to do at either 1:30am, or somewhere between 3:45-4:45am. Until you yell at him for god's sake to either knock it off, or puke already, dammit!

And the cat.
The cat only jumps off the bed when standing next to GB's right shoulder. Not his stomach. Not his toes. Not on my side of the bed-- ever. And she walks straight from the crick behind my knees, across his bladder, and up to that spot by his shoulder. The jumping-down-for-a-midnight-snack spot. And then disappears into the closet to crunch her crunchy cat food. She usually gets hungry at both midnight, and somewhere close to 3am. And when she's about to jump up onto something, she let's you know. She's very polite. In that "SEE? SEE HOW POLITE I AM??" cat sort of way.

"Mprrt?" And then the soft thud of graceful cat paws on the bed. And the thud itself is mild enough to sleep through. But not the "Mprrt?" that always comes first. Then she has to walk around and see whose awake (and therefore available to sniff her breath, and have their face sneezed on and whiskers poked up their nose, and pet her) before settling back down on someone's legs.

And if there's silence in the bedroom for too long, the teenage cat-sisters on the other side of the bedroom door get worried. So they meow in high-pitched teenage girl voices, and scratch on the door until someone comes out to reassure them. Or yell at them.

Did I mention that our bedroom shares a wall with the only bathroom in the house? It does. And the roommate showers at 6:45 every morning. Except the mornings he showers at 6:15. And clears his nose (or maybe it's his throat) in the shower. Loudly. Some mornings it takes him a while to get it all out.

And don't get me started on the blanket-stealing situation. Just don't even get me started.

Turns out that except when he (or the dog) is snoring, GB is a lighter sleeper than I am. So every time I roll over, it wakes him up.
guilt. guilt. guilt.

So the good news is that if GB is still snoring, I know he's slept through whatever it was that woke ME up. And therefore if *I* yell at the offending party, we will both be woken up. Again.

By the way, GB is currently unsticking a new baby leaf on his beloved hanging plant behind me. It's been sitting there, half-unfurled, for three days. He couldn't take it any more.
GB: "It's stuck."
Me: "But it's getting bigger."
GB: "It's stuck."
Me: "Maybe it's still growing."
GB: "NO. It's STUCK."

And then he gently pulled the tiny green leaf away from the plant spine that birthed it, and unrolled the edges of the leaf so it could start getting sun and growing BIGGER! Now that it's unstuck. The 3-day-old baby leaf on his hanging plant.

I need sleep.

Chaos

Back in middle school, I used to think that the word people said that was "kay-oss" was a totally different word-- with the same meaning-- from the written word "chaos," which I thought you said "ca-hoos." Everybody has a story about a word they mispronounced for years without knowing it. This is mine.

Fitting that it happened with that word, in middle school. That was such a chaotic time, really. And now? ...Now is also a rather chaotic time...

Purity Made Simple

I have a huge box of expensive face soap from Nordstrom. It's been sitting in my "extra toiletries" container for a year now, mostly because as soon as I invested in the 32-oz bottle, the darn soap stopped working on my acne. But I spent a lot of time and money making sure I had a great face soap, so I really don't want to throw it out. Even though I can't use it. Of course, these things are cyclical. I might be able to use it in another month or two. You never know.

I'm having similar experiences with many parts of my life just now. For example, as soon as I announced that I actually had full time employment with the Foundation/Farm... they ran out of money to pay me. But I spent a lot of time, energy, and gas money making sure the Foundation and Farm were as functional as I could make them, and investing myself in the visions and goals they espoused. So even though they can't pay me, I'm having a hard time letting go. And you never know-- they might be able to pay me again in a few months...

The face soap says "We come into this world with all the right instincts... and the world at large is truly beautiful. It is at this time we feel most blessed." To return to this natural state of instinctual well-being, the soap insists that "we must begin with the most basic step of all, the daily ritual of cleaning."

So here I am. Going through everything I own and figuring out what is dirty or just taking up space and energy without giving me any bliss in return. Cleaning up my life, a little bit at a time. I'm also job-hunting... again... and figuring out where I'll live come January. Because I can't afford the rent where I'm living now-- even if I do get another job. I have to use the bulk of my money paying off all the debts I racked up while I failed to make ends meet over the past four years. So a huge part of my process is cleaning up and simplifying my finances. Seeing a debt counselor. Talking about bangkruptcy. Finding ways to pay the people who can't wait.

The blessing that keeps showing up in my life is my friends. I feel so supported and loved. Over and over again, as my situation bounces up and down over and over again. It's amazing how many truly awesome people I know. And I don't think I'd have understood that (or had the same list of friends) four years ago when I thought the world was going to be my oyster.

The books have been the toughest thing to winnow down. And I know I'm not done yet. The first thing I did was decide I can only afford the space for one bookshelf right now. So all the books I'm going to keep with me, and all the things that sit on a surface and take up space, have to fit on that one bookshelf.

As I weighed the value of each book, and the space it fills in my life vs the space available on that one bookshelf, I realized that I don't re-read quite as many books as I like to think I do. Mostly, I think of many of these books as old friends, and it makes me feel good to see them sitting on the shelf because I found them so useful at one time. A bit like my face soap, really. So I keep them around just in case things change and I have a use for them again.

But at this point, the universe has hit me over the head hard enough that I not only suspect, but I KNOW that I have got to slim down and severely limit all the superfluous drains on my time, energy, and space. All the things that make me feel stuck or overburdened when it comes time to pick up and go yet again. I will probably rent a storage room for the things I know I will never be able to replace-- like the bed frame my parents slept in for 30 years, the bookshelf my dad made for me, and the boxes of books that I will actually consult occasionally, but don't need to lug from spare bedroom to spare bedroom over the next six months. I will probably sell or dump a lot of my extra toiletries-- things like that darn 32 ounces of soap that have been sitting around for the past year without ever actually being useful.

As part of the plan (while also applying for jobs daily), I'm going to consolidate everything into my room in preparation for the next big move. I'd like to know exactly what I own-- and right now there are boxes I haven't had the opportunity to open in over two years. It's a strange space to be in, knowing that if I had a reliable job and my own tiny apartment, I already own everything I'd need to be happy there... And finally admitting that just I don't have that, and may not have that for a while longer. Having to ask myself which of those beloved-but-currently-useless items are worth the cost (financial and energetic) of keeping.

I've come to realize that there are a few specific things that really contribute to my sense of contentment in a given living situation. One of those things is having and using my own kitchen gear. Another is having a workspace/desk that nobody else messes with. And being able to trust that my cat is safe, comfortable, and content whether I'm home watching out for her during the day or not. As I begin to condense both my living space and my finances, I also realize that there are two support systems that I need to KNOW I can always pay for-- my cat, and my cell phone. Abbigale cannot be replaced by other people's cats-- not the way I can use the computer in the library (which would still suck), or eat at a friend's table from time to time.

So here we are. Simplifying. Cleaning up old messes. Going back to basics. Realizing that while I prefer contact lenses, my glasses work just fine. Learning that "food stamps" are now referred to as the "SNAP" program. And they give you a credit card instead of a coupon book. Stocking up on rice and lentils because they are cheap and filling, and toilet paper because you can't buy that with the SNAP card. The times they are a-changing. I wonder how much money I wasted on that Nordstrom soap...

Granted

Last week was interesting. I feel confident that I can say YES-- I have a full time job now. I'm not so confident that I'll have it much longer if we don't find a way for the farm to produce some serious income in the middle of winter.

Technically, I'm the "Executive Coordinator" for the Farm, the Foundation, the Education programming that comes out of both, and to some degree also for the farm Community and Household. I asked the head of our Foundation Education Committee to look over the job descriptions that the three of us fleshed out for future reference, having filled in the details of what currently rests on my shoulders, and she said it was a perfect recipe for burnout. I agree.

Last week, I finally struggled through the last three days of writing and submitting a grant to the ubs govgt. The grant that may, in twelve months, pay for me to actually preserve, digitize, and web-ize the Foundation's Archive. You know, that job I was originally actually HIRED FOR six months ago. It's the first grant proposal I've ever written.

And boy-howdy was it a learning experience for the first one to be a govgt one! Before I could access the application packet, I had to apply for a DUNS number. And before I could apply for a DUNS number, there were one or two OTHER applications and passwords I had to request. Each of which took between 2 days and a week to get. And you can't skip steps.

Then, on the two days I'd set aside to write the grant, we first spent all day interviewing and meeting about our new Farm Manager (thank you god, she's on board for at least the next three months). The second day I spent doing last minute preparations for the Foundation Appreciation Dinner, and having conversations with my two team mates about the structure of our jobs so that I could, in fact, get on with my job without interference from She-Rex. Who-- I want to acknowledge-- is a vital and incredibly committed member of the team. I'm glad she's there. I just don't want her interfacing with clients. She has a tendency to make them run away.

So I set aside a day to work from home. And I did work from home all that day, but not on the grant. So I worked off the record the next day and a half-- on the grant. And I worked a full day (minus the two hours I spent meeting with the team because SR needed to make decisions about something that won't happen until next Spring) the day before the grant was due on pulling together the final application materials and the budget, and getting signatures where they were needed.

The day the application was due, my day off, I discovered that there was an ADDITIONAL APPLICATION FORM that was only available online, and that my computer operating system was too old to let me open. And then I spent the day at GB's house on HIS computer, swearing and filling out forms online. Then I discovered that the Budget Form (which is on a different website from the application form and application download site) can only be filled out online, and can't be saved once you fill it out, and has to be uploaded to the application download site, which you can only do if it's saved to your computer. AAAAAAARRRGHH!

I over came that hurdle, and got all the way to the place where you finally get to hit SUBMIT... only to discover that one must have a login and password to submit anything. WTF?

So I tried the first login and password I'd had to sign up for waaay back when I was applying for the fricken DUNS number. And was told no, that's wrong, and you have two more tries before we lock you and your application out of our system. Shit.

So I tried the second login and password I'd had to sign up for waay back when I was trying to get signed up to apply for this fricken grant. And was told, no, that's wrong, and you have one more try. Neener Neener Poopoo Head.

Okay.

So I called the govgt grant offices at 6:15pm Eastern Time for help, and SOMEONE HELPED ME!!!! She told me how to sign up for the login that lets you actually submit the grant application. And she stayed on the phone with me while I did it. And it only took two minutes instead of two weeks. And then I submitted my grant proposal, with three hours to spare before the deadline.

OMFG!!!

That was Tuesday. On Wednesday, I worked. On Thursday, I did accounts and worked and prepped for the Teacher Fair on Friday that I had a booth at, and organized a couple of new orders for our Big City Contingent of Dairy Buyers.

On Friday, I spent all day at the Teacher Fair, getting us tons of potential new Education Field-Trip Clients, and networking with other museums and historical sites in the area.

On Saturday, my one day off this weekend, I got an email that totally blew all my work with the Dairy Contingent out of the water, and basically put me in a position where the Dairy Contingent will probably not want to work with me because they don't think I know what I'm talking about. It was an email sent by my boss to me, the dairy contingent, and SR. I still don't know why SR got the email, as she's made it clear she wants nothing further to do with the dairy or the goats.

So I sent a not-happy email to my boss, explaining the effect of her email on my ability to help her with the Dairy Orders in the foreseeable future. Hard to help when nobody believes a word you say, non? And then I spent the rest of the day trying to pack and sort some of my stuff, and cleaning house, because it needs it.

Today, Sunday, I go to work again. We have a Foundation Board Meeting, and I have to arrive early so that I can prepare the materials and reports necessary for that meeting, and find out if I still have a job after the email I sent my boss.

Talk about your recipe for burn out! ...sigh... And I really love my work and this farm. So I really hope we overcome some of these challenges soon.

Well, that's all from Lake Woebegone this week, where all the women are strong, the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.

The Other Family

Crazy. I think if you get to know a family well enough, we all have our special brands of crazy. I know my family does. And it was no different with GB's family. In fact, his family tend to wear THEIR crazy in plain view on their forehead-- kind of like the old cartoons of the kamakazi pilots with the white bandanna and the red dot.

The good news is that I got the official stamp of approval from just about everyone except the youngest brother, who clearly has trouble believing that anyone could like GB once they get to know him. The bad news is that after a while, I got the feeling that they all thought I was upper class or somehow better than GB and his family, and that is why they were so excited that he was dating me. Also, his dad seems to think it's my fault that GB is happier since moving out of Sacramento-- and he put responsibility for GB's continued happiness squarely on my shoulders as often as GB left the room.

I just don't think of myself as better or worse than others-- The competition I carry in my head is with myself. How can I improve? What can I do or contemplate or work on today that will make me a better person than I was before? Am I living up to my own standards? Also, I refuse to take responsibility for the happiness of others. Which is different from taking responsibility for how my actions or words affect others. Everything that is making GB happier than he was when he lived with them-- it's stuff he's accomplished or overcome or earned on his own merit.

But anyway, we spent time with the family-- which was the whole point of the trip-- and I totally fell in love with his Grandmother. And we saw some awesome natural wonders while we were at it. I got the scoop on main street, saw the locations of many an exciting moment in GB's personal history, and I met a few of the folks that pepper GB's stories about that same personal history. Hiked part of Horsetail Falls just west of Lake Tahoe. Visited the lake itself, including Emerald Bay which really is a beautiful shade of green.

Discovered that GB is a great roadtrip companion, and enjoyed every day of our trip until the last. I was pretty short on sleep, sore from hiking and all that driving we did, and well-- I was just basically grumpy on the drive back home. And I feel terrible whenever my grumpy comes out around other people-- and there we were, trapped together in a car or in my parents' living room (flying visit on the way north) from 7am until I got home around 10pm Friday night.
ARGH! But GB was very sweet about it. Which somehow made my grumpy worse.

And you know how it goes-- When you meet folks for the first time, you want to make a good impression and find reasons to like the people your companion likes. It wasn't until yesterday that I actually started to think about the trip and recognize my personal reaction to everything that had happened and everyone I'd met.

The upshot is that I actually appreciate and respect GB's intelligence, integrity, and compassion even more NOW than I did before-- because it's obvious he's worked hard and without much support-- or many role models-- to become the man he is today. And somehow, he just doesn't think that what he's accomplished or who/how he chooses to be in the world is anything wonderful or special. It's just the right thing to do, the right way to live. And I agree-- but I don't think many people today actually spend the time and energy it takes to live their lives to that standard.

Call me cynical if you want. Then spend three days in a town where everyone goes armed because picking fights is normal. A town where most folks grow or are addicted to something illegal, bigotry is rampant, and nobody can afford to stop working until they die because no matter how many lottery tickets they buy, they still don't have enough money to pay the bills, health care, or a retirement fund. Welcome to the home of the original California Gold Rush.

Here is a short list of things GB's various relatives liked about me:

• I carry a pocket knife.
• I like rodeos.
• I offered to help with the dishes.
• My dad uses the word "fart."
• I eat sushi (because they know GB does, and they think its weird).
• My ex-husband was in the Army.
  
• I don't put ice in my water.
• I understand the difference between a single action and a double action pistol.
  
• I'm still young enough to give them grandbabies.

Delighted. Really.

Have I mentioned the upcoming family reunion yet? It's worthy of mention.

The good news is that my secret plan to shanghai my favorite cousins from the airport, and deliver them to the reunion location several hours later has been officialized by the committee in charge of officializing things.

The bad news is that in those several hours between airport and reunion location, I have now got to cris-cross a major city in search of passengers, find parking at the airport at rush hour on a Friday afternoon, drive a full car load of cousins and baggage to another town an hour or more away, in serious rush hour traffic, on a Friday, in order to celebrate another incoming family member's birthday with the WHOLE FRIGGEN CROWD at our usual celebratory restaurant. And then we drive to the reunion.

I hope they give us a private room at the restaurant. One with padded walls. We're going to be loud, crazy, totally disorganized, loud, and insanely hungry. All twenty or thirty of us. Just think-- my mom, and four of her siblings, and like seven mostly-adult female cousins who GREW UP IN THIS FAMILY TRADITION-- plus kids, boyfriends, husbands, and well, whoever else we accidentally sweep along in our rambunctious and way-too-friendly wake.

I'm sure I'll be keeping you posted on the reunion. OH, and did I mention that my mom's broken hand is healing okay? It is. Really.

Head full of Bricks

So February was the month of the Cat Scare. March? March is, apparently, the month of the flu. As in, I caught it, and here we are ten days later, and I'm still not fully recovered. And I'm tired of it. Seriously. I have a life I'd like to be living-- or at least pursuing.

In fact, the last few days I've really pushed my limits with pretending I was finally all better. And really, my brain is starting to function again... It's my body thats having issues. I even went to the doctor (first time in over three years) to make sure there's no REASON for me to still be this lacking in energy. And she tells me that while I still have so much mucus and crap in my head that it has pushed my ear cup flat, I'm basically healthy. Yay.

So yesterday I went with my folks to check out the Da Vinci exhibit. And it's pretty cool. They've recreated a few pages from his personal notebooks, one of which explores the way that a planet and a sun affect the light on another planet. VERY COOL to see that!! And they've rebuilt a bunch of the machines and concepts of flight, motion, and energy into little wooden examples-- with the same tools and materials that Da Vinci himself would have had access to. And you even get to play with some of the gears!! There are reproductions of his sketches and studies of the human body. And a whole room devoted to his painting.

I'd never really seen the Mona Lisa as anything worth staring at for long periods of time. Dark, kinda dull, and what's the big deal? But somebody has used our friend technology to figure out what the pigments etc probably looked like in Da Vinci's day-- Did you know he painted her in see-thru layers of paint over the course of twenty years, building up each bit until it became solid-looking? That's part of the trick to the depth in the painting. We really are seeing many many layers of paint. And did you know that some idiot actually kept the painting in his BATHROOM for a while? The painting actually has water damage because of that.

A room full of musical instruments and war machines later, and I was barely shuffling along, trying to put one foot in front of the other. I actually fell asleep in the restaurant over lunch, I was so exhausted by the outing. I'm glad I finally had a chance to go-- and it was fun to go with my parents, who were just as fascinated by whether or not the devices would really work, and how and why, as I was. It was frustrating, however, to have that be the sum total of my day's accomplishments. Three hours of standing around, and I slept the rest of the day and a full ten hours last night. GRRRRRR

Anyway, I'm hoping to get something useful done today. Something that will help me get a job or publish my book or feel like I'm contributing to the cleanliness and livability of the household. I sure haven't done much on ANY of those fronts in the past two weeks. Sigh.

Da Vinci was a pretty cool frood, really. He believed that we could learn to do anything that could be done in nature by observing how Nature does it. That a machine could be created to reproduce any action performed by Nature. And so he spent hours and days and months observing the way birds fly, the way people exert force on a lever, the way toes are made to wiggle through their attachment to bone with fine sinews and fibers that direct movement. For Da Vinci, Mother Nature was the ultimate teacher, and he devoted a lifetime to Her lessons.

Well, to paraphrase Da Vinci's classification of people, there are those who understand, those who can be taught to understand, and those who will never understand.
Me myself, I'd say... ...I'm learning.

Draining

Holy Tamoly, what does that cat EAT?! And SHIGHT I hope she burries it well now that she's done digesting it. That REEKS. Like-- tears to my eyes-- REEKS!!!

Excuse me-- that wasn't how I intended to start this post. It's just a sudden distraction on the road of life here. A sudden smelly kitty distraction that I must now take a few moments to mercifully dispose of. Mercifully for my NOSE.

Well, now. Moving right along.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! It has been an interesting year. Full of self-reflection, self-promotion, and self-denial. I moved (twice), I got snowed in (twice), I integrated myself into someone else's household (twice)... I sense a theme.

I've held workshops, had booths at faires and retreats and festivals, gotten published here and there, and created a loyal client base. I've applied for jobs, I've narrowed my activities, I've tried unsuccessfully to sell my (perfectly great) car and reduce my overall mandatory expenditures. I've been to a lot more friendly get-togethers and outright parties than in the past five years combined. I've enjoyed myself more at each of them than at the most lavish and well-organized military gathering I ever attended.

I've gotten serious about writing my book, too. It's time.

I spent the new year with a new friend. Even had a (friendly) kiss at midnight from someone I respect. Stayed out until nearly 3am. When was the last time THAT happened?! Lots of good conversations, lots of opportunities to grow my network and finally feel that I belong here in town. Reconnected with old friends this year, too, and that felt good in its own way. Old friends are important.

As with each of the past few years, I feel that I've grown and changed SO MUCH over what is really a brief span of time. I've learned so much about who I am, what I'm capable of, and what values/opportunities/realities/activities/ beliefs I really care to pursue or maintain in my life. It's been highly rewarding, and very draining.

More recently, as in last night and continuing through this very moment, the term "draining" refers to what we'd like the basement to do. It's flooded. Check that. It's FLOODING in a seeping run-down-the-walls kind of way. My housemate and I took turns going down to wet-vac the puddle every hour or so all night, to minimize the spread of wet. Thing is, between all that snow and the last two days of heavy rain, there just isn't anyplace in the ground for all that water to GO. After staying up late the morning before, staying up to help until after midnight last night, getting up for my turns at 2am and again at 4am, and getting up this morning to start all over again... I'm tired. You might even say, "drained."

And yet my level of worry/stress has gone down dramatically in the last week. That's good. Nobody wants a heart attack at age 30. I guess I'm really hopeful that the new year, new administration, and new possibilities in my own life will bear fruit that is both sustaining and sustainable. That would be a real gift for all of us. May the new year be full of positive changes, and good luck for all. We need it.