Jeepers!

Today was the first day of SUMMER ... well, I mean, in my mind.  I took the roof off the Jeep today and drove around and sang at the top of my lungs and drove extra miles because it was sunny out and it is more fun to sing at the top of your lungs in the middle of nowhere.

So I did.

And then the gas light came on.

And the sun went in.

And I went home.  

Still singing.  

With the heat on.

WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Tomorrow is supposed to be nice again.

I can't wait.

The sun will come out tomorrow

(I don't know who Larua Pfalz is, but the picture was just too perfect not to use!)

Yesterday I drove down to Manchester for a dentist appointment and I ran a few errands afterwards.  It seemed that each errand took me to a different part of the city, and I found myself taking turns so that I would follow familiar territory -- just for the heck of it.

For example, I was at a stoplight when I remembered that I used to take this exit in the early days when Hallie was around 1 because her daycare was located there.  Weird, I'd forgotten that.  I remembered that I used to hit the grocery store after picking her up, several times a week.

As I flashed back to that time, I tried to recall how long that had been.  Couldn't remember though, but I do remember running into a father of one of Hallie's friends at the same daycare at that same grocery store years later ... and it was one of those deja vu experiences where it had happened before but now we had kids in high school.  Why had I stopped at that grocery store at that time?  Believe me, as he went on and on about his divorce, never getting to see the kids and the good old days when Hallie and Garrett were best friends, I think I made a mental note to never use that store again!  HAHAHA.

As I drove down the street where my office had been, I could recall the countless times that I'd rushed down that street in a mad panic to pick Hallie or Maddie and even Charlie at the daycare down the road ON TIME.  With my heart pounding I would glance at my watch and scream at the car in front of me to HURRY UP.  I was completely overwhelmed as I felt those post-traumatic stress feelings wash over me ... yikes.  What a sucky time that was.  It took about a full year of not working to completely loosen that pressure from my chest.  Always rushing and being late and feeling as though I was never giving my all to any thing properly.  SO NOT a way to live.  It wasn't living -- it was surviving.

Then I passed the deserted building where Jac-Pac Foods had been and I recalled the interview I had done with the owner.  My father had said to me not to come back with a picture of someone standing there smiling at the camera:  He said to get creative.  Well, I sweated that one out and as we walked the floor where the meat was being turned from carcass to hamburger, I asked if I could take a picture there.  He said no, I would have to take one in his office.  Disappointed that I wasn't going to bring back the bleeding lead, I glanced around the man's sterile office, wondering what could I do that would be different?  AAAAAAAARGH.  Then I spotted a trumpet hanging on the wall and I asked him if he played.  He said that he had in high school, and his wife hung the trumpet on the wall, he didn't know why.  I asked him if he ever played it, and he stood up and took it in hand and stared at it for a bit, then put it to mouth and blew.  

I had a hell of a time with the caption for that one, but I learned a very important lesson:  When you are interviewing someone and want to take a picture, you can get people to do pretty much anything!  I actually laughed as I remembered that, my drive down memory lane.

What was so interesting was the ride to Manchester had seemed so long.  I just don't get there very often anymore, despite the fact that that is where my dentist and bank are conveniently located!  The only time I think of actually switching dentists is when I am going up the steps to the office ... I've had the same hygienist and dentist since I was in my early 20's.   They are my friends, we chat, we have a history.  And it's only twice a year, I mean, it's not that much of a hardship!

The bank, well that is just silly, but my argument is that I still have a box of checks left! HAHAHA.  

What is so important to remember is that there is a world out there ... and on the days when I am feeling trapped in a gray world that has no redeeming qualities, I just need to remember that there are possibilities beyond the 20 miles I tend to travel in over the course of a week.  So when the woods aren't lush and inviting and the lake is speckled with ice and the mountain is no longer open for skiing, it is wise to remember that there are places one can go to find other things to do.  Even if it is just to drive around Memory Lane and remember moments from my very full and fulfilling life.

Am I REALLY here????

The thing about being gone for so long and immersed in a completely different way of life is that when you do come home, the comparisons begin.

I know that it is not "normal" for someone to go away, leave their family and just do something completely for themselves for a month.  I find that sad, actually, but it is the way it is.  I also think that it is sad that the majority of my family (with the exception of Charlie and Hallie, so I guess not the majority, just half!) had no interest whatsoever in joining me on my venture.  Whatever the excuse -- time, money, desire -- the bottom line is that they didn't want to go.  And I did.

A lot.

I just didn't expect that it would be THIS hard to be back.  It doesn't help that it is butt-ugly out all the time, with the exception of a day or two in the two weeks I've been back where there was actually some blue and sun in the sky.  I miss the utter beauty that was Sedona -- the majestic towering red rocks amidst a near-constant blue sky.  I miss the energy that seemed to flow and swirl and crack around me, providing an alive feeling that pushed me to the highest peak with ease.

The pictures say it all if you ask me!  The top was taken today, the view out of my office window.

I loved the vibrant colors of the food at my favorite market -- fresh food, alive food.

Here, it's a waiting game.  For it will get pretty here, and then the bugs will come out and force us all back into the caves of our New Hampshire lifestyles.  We will have fresh food too!  For at least three months, it will grow and make me believe for a short time that I CAN live here.  But then it will shrivel up and die and it will grow cold and then I will be forced to stare at dull, dead food and yearn for more.

It's not fair that I was in Sedona when it was unseasonally warm, it's not fair to compare since its not apples to apples.  (But them apples were fresh!)  In my heart I know that this is a beautiful place, that soon the grayness will be replaced with green and the promise of renewed life that is Spring. (And then we will get those few weeks of summer we are allotted, oh joy.)  And then it will be Fall and the return to the many months of gray winter.

There was a woman who lived in California most of her life, and then she moved to N.H. with her husband and family.  She was miserable, and I never quite understood it.  I am native New Hampshire, and there is a Yankee mentality that I can embrace that almost enjoys all the crap -- the mud, the black flies, the absence of a decent summer, the never-ending winters -- because we are tough and we can take it.

She was so miserable, I would say to her and her husband, why don't you move?  Why stay somewhere where you are absolutely so unhappy?  But stay they did, year after year after year.  Until she died.  They called it a "sudden" death -- a cancer out of nowhere that took her in weeks.  Except that she had been dying for the 20 years I'd known her, bit by bit, the life force drained from her until she couldn't sustain herself in this climate any longer.

She never traveled either.  I wonder if it was too hard to come home?

"Your whole point of view of your whole reality is based on what you believe you are, but what you believe about yourself is just a concept.  It is knowledge, but knowledge does not mean it is the truth.  Knowledge only means it is what you know."

Welcome to my world, as they say.

Hit like a ton of bricks

I don't know what happened, but I went from being the most healthy person on the planet (read running up steep rock formations) with more energy than I knew what to do with, to a slug unable to get out of bed.

I flew in on Wednesday night and since I gained three hours, jet lag shouldn't have been an issue.  I woke up on Thursday morning feeling fine and then again on Friday, though I still hadn't had a chance to unpack my suitcases as I was thrown right back into "real life" with no time to dally.  Friday was all day standing on the mountain watching Maddie race, and I felt great, even hiked up the hill and was thrilled that the lack of high altitude made the climb feel easy peasy.

Saturday morning it was a little harder to get up.  In fact, my plan was to ski in the morning but that night I'd been attacked by a charlie horse and felt ... tired.  Went and watched Maddie race that afternoon and felt okay, but that is the end of feeling okay!  

Sunday morning was just AWFUL.  I couldn't move.  I could hardly lift my head off the pillow.  In fact, I didn't -- and it was beyond painful to get up at 2:00 p.m. to go pick up Charlie.  It was, actually, kind of scary because I could hardly keep my eyes open.  I managed to get myself on the couch and remained there for the rest of the day.  That night was hell -- I coughed all night long and didn't get any sleep.

Monday morning was a repeat of Sunday morning -- with the thought of having to wake up seemingly beyond my grasp.  Maddie needed to be at school though, and she kept yelling at me.  Again, another ride I shouldn't have been making ... I was a wreck.  Returned to bed and did not move the entire day.

I felt a little better last night and slept much better.  But this morning, though I didn't feel one hundred percent, I certainly felt alive.  I unpacked my suitcases, did laundry, made the bed, cleaned the kitchen, made a shopping list, went to pick up Charlie at school, went shopping, returned home and started to make dinner.  And Charlie said to me:

"It's amazing that you could be so sick yesterday and so fine today."

Yeah, what is up with that?  I realized that I felt FABULOUS!  Seriously.  Somewhere along the path of today I went from being sick to completely healed -- once again full of energy and the will to live.

What the hell was it?  I just never saw it coming.  I was in SUCH good shape, to have it come out of nowhere was so unexpected.  And yet, to have it leave just as quickly is equally as unexpected.

Yeah, I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll BLOW your house down.  Then I'll rebuild it.

You cool with that?

Time for an intervention with Octo-cuckoo-mom

She is firing her free nannies because she doesn't want to be spied on?

This woman needs an intervention, and since she has invited the press into her life and exposed her absolute and total nutty-ness, it is our job as observers of her insanity to step in and DO something to protect the lives of all of these children.

She can't deal with them.  When I had two toddlers I could hardly maintain my sanity.  It's not that she is a bad person -- she's just not rooted in reality.  She figured she could make all these babies and be on TV and all would be good.  

I was subtly threatened that by making certain comments in regards to my child I could be reported to the proper authorities.  And yet, we watch this woman, who has NO CAPACITY to take care of 14 children (due to what proof?  I'll tell you, NO ONE has that capacity!) and stand by and do nothing?

Huh?

I actually refuse to watch TV coverage or read any articles about this woman due to the fact that I don't want to be a part of it in any way.  Perhaps this is hypocritical and naive even, but seriously, I do not want any part of this freak show.  The doctor who implanted her with more babies than a human is made to bear should be prosecuted and this woman should lose each and every one of these children that she made in poor faith.  She couldn't leave the embryoes in cold storage?  She HAD to bring them to life in order to ease her conscience?

I know these simple facts not because I've read them, but by pure osmosis.  Without even wanting to, I hear information on this woman because it's everywhere.  The nanny thing I read on Facebook.

So who is going to do something about it?  Perhaps she should sell the babies -- there are ample people out there dying for a child who would be more than happy to cough up some bucks in exchange.

Is this a disgusting proposition?

No, sitting and watching this story unfold is disgusting.  Something needs to be done before some other crazy chick and doctor (has to be a dynamic duo) go for even more babies to break this record.

This story is wrong on so many levels.  

It makes me very sad.

Take these ruby slippers and stuff 'em!

Coming home after an extended time being away is always a bit of an adjustment -- but the contrast was quite expansive and left me a bit jarred.

Instead of towering red rocks surrounding me, I was walking the aisles of Home Depot and Sam's Club today in somewhat of a daze.  It was like being transported from heaven straight to the doors of Hell and left to navigate without a clue as to why I was there!

Peter kept saying, "Are you with me?" and I kept gazing up at the towering shelves of stuff and shuddering.  What was I doing there?

Well.  Peter re-did the downstairs bathroom while I was gone -- and it looks fabulous.  In fact, it looks almost too good.  What does that mean?  It means well, it doesn't really go with the rest of the house!  In my constant yearning for the ocean I came up with a beach theme that is exactly as I envisioned.  Except that it sort of needs to be in a house on Martha's Vineyard!  I forgot to add that part to my vision I guess!  Ooops.  But the toilet didn't have a toilet seat, so he wanted to get one today.  And he neglected to mention he had to go to Sam's Club too.

So instead of hiking today, I traipsed concrete aisles and felt somewhat displaced.

Then we went to the Concord Co-op so I could stock up on some food.  Except they didn't have any.  Oh, well, they had food, but it was so decrepit and lackluster and DEAD that I couldn't bear to bring it home with me.  Graveyard food is what it was -- and after being in the heart of fresh food, after walking into a grocery store in Sedona that nearly brought tears to my eyes it was so laden with beautiful, FRESH food, this place felt useless.  In fact, I said I was never going to return!  It used to be I could actually purchase that stuff, believing that its organic-ness was enough.  Now I know that dead is dead no matter how it grew.

It also didn't help that the day was overcast and gray, the world is getting muddy and it's cold and raw out.  I mean, it's nice to see my family and all, but I had no desire to hike in the muddy, snowy woods and that is just as well since I will be starving to death due to lack of good food!  So, let's see, another four or five months before anything grows around here, right?

I don't know how many days it will take before I am too weak to sit at my desk and type, but I'll keep you posted.

I'm meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeltinggggggggggggg  aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

On the edge

I don't know what is going on, but I can't get enough of scrambling up rocks, getting to high peaks, tip-toeing out on the edge ... and this picture is no illusion.  You have to hug the wall to get to the point I am standing on, and after that, there is nothing.  Free fall to death.  And?  I love it!  LOVE IT!  Going down I can't seem to get enough.  My personal goal is to not sit on my butt -- and I will take a few moments and ponder all the possible ways I can insert foot here, hop there, do a few quick steps and put the brakes on.  

I have always loved to hike, but this is something different.  This is such an incredible lack of fear.  These red rocks just scream peace and serenity to me.  These red rocks get in your blood.

Let me explain.  Sedona is known for its vortexes -- these are areas of energy and there are specific areas where it is stronger.  I personally believe that the entire area is energy-rich (I felt the same way at Stonehenge) but I have had two specific experiences where I felt it in a major way.

Yesterday it was somewhat mellow, but I felt it in the wind.

Today, at Cathedral Rock, I was somewhat overwhelmed by it.  I climbed out on this rock and it was drop down to your death space on either side.  The walls of the rocks towered above and within moments I could feel the energy swirling through me.  Let me explain this as best I can.  I felt as though my body was rocking.  At times I would open my eyes to see if I was okay -- the pulsing throughout my body was not violent, but very real.  At one point, after deep breathing, I suddenly found myself panting.  I had to diligently work to keep my breathing paced -- by taking deep, deep breaths and then exhaling slowly.  The energy swirled, my body rocked, I felt deeply rooted to the soul of the rock.

I don't even expect to make sense.  It just was.  There were people around, I could hear their voices.  It didn't matter.  I was completely immersed in my own experience ... the place is known to be where Native Americans felt the energy of their ancestors -- it is a sacred place.  No argument here.

When at last I went to stand up, I was completely lightheaded.  (Not a good thing to be on a narrow rock surrounded by death falls.)  I took deep breaths, I worked on restoring my balance.  I felt ... amazing.  I felt ... alive.

The trek down was wonderful.  Every part of me was present ... I felt the sun upon me, I heard the birds, the wind.  I was hot, I was sweaty, I was aware of every cell of my body saying YES!  YES!  YES.

I am an energy junky looking to live on the edge.

Is that a bad thing?