I have been reading online about a lot about bloggers having a hard time blogging. Me too. I honestly think it might be partially because of what I’d call Super Blogs – those home, decorating, crafty, or mommy bloggers who are over-the-top bloggers with giveaways, sponsors, prettiest of the pretty photos, Etsy shops, and words that won’t end. It’s intimidating to say the least. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I don’t like those blogs – I do – I subscribe to a gajallion of them that suck hours too much time out of my day. Some are enlightening, educating, pretty to look at, and others are just like the Charlie Brown teacher – wah wah wah. All you see are the pictures.

Many of the bloggers that I have loved for years are posting that they are having a hard time for many reasons – some because of depression. For me, a fellow sufferer of depression, it’s easy to say to myself, sheesh, how can I compete with THAT? Even when I know I’m not really competing, it starts to make me think that what I have to say isn’t interesting. I constantly am double-checking what I write with words like “what would my mom think?” And, speaking of my mom, since much of my life revolves around her these days – as it should at her nearly 92 years of age – I censor what I write for her privacy as well.

Sometimes the things that I want to write here are more for me simply as an outlet for how I’m thinking and feeling at the time. I don’t publish them for many reasons, but mostly, because I think they’d be too depressing for anyone else to write or I hear the imaginary critics in my head saying, oh, get off your pity pot. So, I don’t publish or if I do, I find a way to turn the post to a positive slant at the end. Which, I admit, is good therapy for me too.

I’m not sure where this post is going either. I just know I felt like I needed to write it. I’m a professional writer and editor. I get paid to work with words. I’m not the book published-type writer, although someday I hope to be. But words for me are therapy. And journaling. And a creative outlet. My soul food.

I changed my blog to a general blog, hence the title, “The Cadence of Life”, from a sewing-centric blog, so that I could write about whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. It’s my blog and I set the rules and the content. I need to remember that. I need to remember that this blog is primarily for me and my family and whoever is interested in reading it. If they don’t like to read it, they won’t. I’ve never had a hater on my blog. Oh wait, I take that back – I did years ago when I posted something about a local knitting shop and an online knitting group. Whatever. There are always going to be critics and haters in life.

I know this: If I live my life silencing myself and my dreams based on what someone might think or if someone would disapprove, I’m afraid I’ll miss out on a lot of life. I’ve silenced my soul for a long time now and I think now is the time to change all that.

I have no idea how or what that un-silencing will look like. I just know I need to do that.

Maybe I just need to take a clue from my granddaughter, Laila. She doesn’t know who she’s talking to either – or maybe she does, and we just don’t – but she talks with no inhibitions.  Enjoy!

I’m posting these photos for my friend, Mermaids, who is looking for decorating inspiration. I saw these at a local TJMaxx store and want them for myself too. I may have to find $$ to go get them. Posting them here is the only way that I know of to get them up to Pinterest too.

There were two of these side chairs with pillows that said “hello!” as soon as I entered the store. The color scheme screams ME. I even like the floor lamp behind them. The details are posted on the TJMaxx site here.

I also loved this take on a nautical glass ball with rope. Also at TJMaxx but I can’t find it online.

The only thing that anyone here has been talking about for the last couple days has been the snow in Western Washington. The news stations are talking longer and preempting other shows, people are on Facebook and Twitter more sharing pictures and anecdotes, and everyone is either loving the snow or hating it. And most everyone is acting like this is the first time Seattle has ever had this amount of snow. And every year it’s the same story.

Where I live we got about 8 to 10 inches of snow over the last 24-48 hours. A lot even for here, but we’re not unused to snow.  I only dug out pictures from the last couple of years, but my memory – unless mine is failing me, and that’s quite possible – is that we’ve had snow over the past decade or longer more often than we have not. We had a bad snow storm in 2008, another in 1995 or 1996. So, it’s not like we don’t know what to do or how to drive. Particularly how to drive in the snow.

It is what it is. C’mon peeps. Relax. Enjoy the snow. Play like a kid and throw some snowballs, build a snowman or a snow fort. The great thing about snow in Seattle is typically (except for the two-week Snowmageddon in 2008) it’s gone in three days, and doesn’t stick around for three months.

Me, I don’t mind it any more. I’m used to it. I actually like it and welcome the chance to stay home and stop running so damn fast everywhere. I can snuggle under my blankets and hibernate, just a little. I like cozy. I like snow. I also like when the snow goes away. But until it does, I enjoy the beauty and the stillness of it.

January 2012

February 24, 2011

February 22, 2011

January 11, 2011

December 29, 2010

We got about four to six inches of snow yesterday where I live, and there is more snow in the forecast for tonight and tomorrow night. One thing I love about the snow is waking up to it. The moonlight still shining on the new snow. The sun rising through sherbet colored clouds. The silence and stillness before the world wakes up. It’s like a fresh start to life packed into a few brief moments.

Here are a few pictures I captured this morning. Nothing fancy, but pretty. (As in, unaltered, untouched photos.)

What’s NOT to love? Shemar Moore is my adult man-crush. My dream guy. Not because of his ruggedly handsome good looks, his rippled abs, or his perfectly chiseled face. Nope. None of the above. Ok, well, maybe some of the above.

It’s because of the ideal that he represents. Masculine strength, protector, confident, lover, friend. All of those.  Those eyes look like they could dissolve all my fears in a single blink and see straight through all my bullsh*t. Those arms look like they could hold me up forever – or at least for the few moments that I’d like to lean on someone.

If I was ever lucky enough to find my dream guy, he’d have all those qualities plus the good looks. In reality, that will never happen because men like Shemar are rare. However, I have hope that I can find the same ideals in a different wrapper. Someday. Maybe. Before it’s too late.

The wrapping paper isn’t quite as important as the gifts that are inside.

But Shemar’s wrapping paper is a work of art.

Update 1/7/2012: I started this post before Christmas and then family illnesses shot it all to hell and I never finished it. Still, I wanted to share with you the home improvement updates I’ve been doing around the house, and why.

Every year for the last several years my mother has hosted a Christmas Day Open House at her condo. Now that she’s living in an assisted living facility, I agreed to host the open house at my home. This may not sound like much, but for me, it’s a big deal. It’s as scary for me as if I’d been asked to stand in a bikini in front of 100 hot men. Yeah, not a chance in hell.

But here I am, doing it. (No, not the bikini.) I’m opening my home to more than just my family. Maybe no one but family will come. Maybe my home won’t be large enough. Maybe… maybe… maybe.

Feel the fear and do it anyway.

That’s my mantra these days.

So, in preparation for my home’s initiation into what I hope will be many more parties and welcoming of friends into my life, I’ve been fixing up the house.

See, there was this one wall…

…that before the drywall was screwed in was a gaping hole of insulation and wood. And cold air. It had been that way since circa 2007 after I had the half wall removed when I installed my hardwood floors. No joke. I lived with the hole in the wall for, um, nearly five years.

Talk about procrastination.

And there was the matching hole in the ceiling.

And the ceiling itself was half painted for more than five years. My back gave out at the time, and I never finished it. My house for the last 10 years has been a series of unfinished projects.

So, I bit the bullet and hired a contractor. He fixed the drywall. He fixed the wiring where it was unsafely stashed up in the ceiling and wall. We installed a sconce on the wall.

And they painted. Getting rid of the cool, unwelcoming ice blue. Ok, I know I chose that as I did the previous four iterations of the front room color. Whatever.

There was lots of paint sampling.

But this time, I knew what I wanted. I wanted warm. I wanted inviting. I wanted comforting.

Getting there…

I never could get that top corner right. Thank God for hired help.

The wall color looks a lot darker in the pictures than it is in real life, but it’s a warm, yummy caramel-y brown. Kind of like a caramel macchiato. Delish.

Here’s the wall all fixed with the new sconce:

Here’s the main family room before:

The chocolate wall color looked great when the flooring was creamy white carpet. But with the dark floors, it was too much.

Here’s the after:

Here’s the front room before (sorry, blurry cell phone photo):

After:

Looking the other way. I love the contrasting wall.

For more pictures of the house fully decorated for the holidays, you can read here.

There’s more work to be done around the house, but mostly on the second floor. Oh boy. At least I have the main floor welcoming, comforting, warm, and cozy. Ready for friends. In fact, that open house I mentioned earlier? It was postponed to New Year’s Day, and it was great. A success. I think I’ll do it again soon, and this time, I’ll try to remember to take some pictures. 

This is a question that has been running through my head for quite some time. It’s not a thought emanating from a feeling of self-pity. Well, okay, maybe once in a blue moon, although I’m not one prone to a lot of self-pity. It’s more a thought that somehow, some way, there should be caretakers for caretakers. If only sometimes. Maybe that traditionally comes in the form of spouses. I have no idea since I’ve never really had one although I’ve been married twice, briefly each time. The question comes more from the role I’ve filled for the last several years of caretaker to my family members: my daughter, granddaughter, and now my elderly mom.

January 2012 started off with yet another hospital visit. This time it was my mom. The visit was only two days and although it was an upper respiratory virus issue that took her in, it was the low oxygen and very slow heart rate that kept her there. She has fantastic doctors so I wasn’t too concerned this time, but at nearly 93, any hospital visit with her is cause for concern. She’s home now and fine – a lingering sinus cold – but fine. Yet, throughout all this (and other hospital visits), the message I’ve heard from my family and friends has been “Take care of yourself”. My consistent response is, “I will” or “I am”.

Do I know how to take care of myself? Of course I do when it comes to the basics of feeding, housing, supporting myself. I wonder sometimes though if I really, truly, honestly know how to slow down, stop, get rest, and nurture myself. I think this is what they are really suggesting. And do I really want to? See, if I stop, I have to face facts. I face the fact that I come home to an empty home (unless you count the menagerie.) And I have to face the fact that I could lose my loved one – a fact that will eventually come true because no one lives forever.

And so what? It is what it is. I choose not to dwell in self-pity. Rather, I like to focus on the positive. It may be that I’m naturally Pollyanna-ish, but I also think it’s more of a habit I’ve acquired through regular practice. So, when I force myself to slow down and stop, to nurture myself with warm drinks, soft blankets, and a chance to exhale, I focus on the fact that I have a beautiful home, a home in which to invite family and friends and possibly a future mate. I focus on what I already have, not on what might be lacking. Most importantly, I remember that I have a beautiful family, full of kids and grandkids that love me and want me in their lives, a mother that needs, loves, and trusts me, and who is proud of me. And who I am grateful and honored to be allowed to be her caretaker at this precious time in her life.

So, who takes care of the caretaker? No one. And that’s okay. It’s just how it is as an adult. We no longer have a mommy to come to our rescue, so we need to learn to self-soothe. This year, my focus is on self-soothing in healthy, positive ways. Remembering and re-learning how to take care of me. This means getting back in the swing of my Weight Watchers and feeling better about myself and my body. (Losing weight is far more to me than just clothing sizes – it builds my confidence and esteem.) Taking care of me means getting enough sleep each night, taking time to have a few deep breaths, and most importantly, taking time out for people in my life other than the one I’m taking care of so they don’t feel forgotten, and so that I never forget just how much I love them too. And also so I don’t forget just how much I need them.

Taking care of the caretaker means that I also need to build a social life. One that has been neglected over the past few years. And laughing. God, how I need to remember how to laugh. Life can be so serious, and laughter is such a stress reliever with no calories attached.

Ok, enough rambling for now. I have to get busy and get to work so I can keep my fantabulous job that affords me flexibility and freedom to be with my mom worry free. Thank you, God.

And thank you for listening to my ramblings this cold, winter morning.

Doggie coats and Santa hats. Seahawks, of course.

Cheap and easy decorating: Mason jar, glass pebbles, cranberries, and branches.

Whimsy.

Candy cane wrapping paper.

And real ones.

A welcoming entry.

Christmas kitty.

A mistletoe kissing ball. (One can wish, right?)

Room for family and friends.

And even more family and friends.

That’s the idea anyway.

Thank God It’s Finally Over! (Blatantly stolen from a friend on Facebook.)

That sums up a lot for me.

<<— Maybe Lily agrees?

I’m glad the year is nearly over. I have much to be grateful for, but there is  much that I will not be sad to see the door hit it on the a$$ on the way out. Namely, ill health for family members – and me. First there was mom’s near-death in September, my daughter’s crisis in November, and then the stomach flu that ran rampant through the entire family – except mom, thank God – all of December.

On the plus side, my mom didn’t die, my daughter is doing much better, and we’re all done with praying to the porcelain gods. More than done.

I missed out on Christmas this year. I had it all set to host my first Christmas Open House, and then I got sick. Highly contagious sick. So contagious that ninety kids in my grandson’s school were out sick earlier this month with the same thing. So, I had to stay put and postpone. Couldn’t even see my mom. Christmas Eve was spent alone and sick. Yeah, I kinda felt sorry for myself. I don’t mind being alone, but being alone and sick really, really sucks. Christmas Day I still wasn’t well enough to get out and expend much energy, nor risk carrying germs to my mom, so I stayed home again. This bug was so nasty, I lost 2.5 pounds. My daughter lost 5. Had my mom got it, the effect could have been devastating.

I postponed the open house. Instead I’m hosting it on New Years Day. I actually like this idea so much better. For me it will be the closing of a year I am so glad is over and looking forward with optimism to a wonderful year ahead of far less stress, worry, fear, illness and much more peace, relaxation, happiness, joy, and faith. 2011 has been all about taking care of everyone else in my life (which – don’t get me wrong – I’m honored to be able to do) but at such a manic pace that it’s not sustainable long term. 2012 for me – I hope – will be more about slowing down, enjoying my family, and carving out plenty of time for me to develop my own life. To follow some of my dreams and create new ones.

That’s the idea anyway.

I hope the season was good to you and that it was everything you hoped it would be.

Sigh.

Every year it’s the same.

I leave things until the last minute.

I get melancholy (mildly depressed) when I read about all the lovely decorating and preparations people are doing for Christmas.

I am an overachiever who fears underachieving.

It’s less than a week until Christmas and I have no presents to wrap for anyone.

And that’s okay.

Because this year, I will have a cozy house. I will have Christmas Dinner here and am opening it up to extended family and friends who have no where to go, or who just want to stop by and say hi.

And this year, I have my family. Oh sure, I had them last year too, you say. Right. But let me explain a bit.

This year, I nearly lost my mother. For all intents and purposes, she died. Her heart stopped for nearly three minutes, but they revived her. And at 91, that’s no small feat. And at 91, I treasure every single day I have with her. She is doing quite well these days, but a couple of  months ago, I wasn’t sure she’d be with us this holiday season.

On the heels of that crisis, we had yet another crisis with my youngest daughter. I can’t disclose details, but needless to say, the stress on me and the rest of the family has been overwhelming. My youngest is doing much better, We pray for no more crises in her future, God willing. She and her baby have a bright future ahead but it’s going to be hard work for her to get there. But she has her family beside her.

I think that’s the theme for us this holiday season: Family.

If you have a family that loves you deeply, that will fight for you and your well being, who treats you with love and respect, you have the best Christmas gift of all.

I have that family.

I don’t need or want anything else.

All the shopping, preparation, decorations, lights, sounds, smells – they all pale in comparison to the love I feel for my family. The gifts we have and are receiving among each other cannot be bought in a store.

I am ready for more of that.

Now bring on the fun and laughter!