We've sold my deceased mother's condo, and are just doing the final clear-out before the new owners take possession next month. I found it very odd to discover, among her possessions, box after box and bag upon bag of Christmas ornaments and decorations.
I had never seen any of this stuff. There were some sales slips in the bags that showed most, if not all, of the items had been bought in the last few years. What's so strange about this Christmas collection is the fact my mother went out of her way to downplay Christmas for the past 37 years. It was my impression she actually resented Christmas and felt it was all a big imposition.
Christmas had never been a big deal at our house. But until I was about 14 years old we always had a real tree, with some beautiful heirloom lights and ornaments (that my sister and I got possession of in our twenties). Then came the day when my mother put her foot down and bought a 4 foot tall fake tree from Sears. She had decided real trees were just too much trouble to buy, drag home, erect in water in the tippy tree stand, deal with dropped needles embedded in the carpet, and then dispose of after the holiday. At least the fake tree was green. But we had to switch to other (low voltage) lights and smaller decorations due to flammability and size issues.
Sometimes my father would string some lights on the house, or on the bushes flanking the front door. My mom would carp it was a waste of time and electricity. Her indoor decorating efforts pretty much consisted of hanging the Christmas cards we received along a string.
My mother also heartily disliked cooking, cleaning and hosting guests - all of which the Christmas season typically involves. The one thing she did enjoy was baking shortbread, which was strictly rationed (as were the seasonal Japanese oranges). Luckily, my Aunt Agnes made amazing traditional Scottish shortbread and would send our family a huge tin each Christmas, along with her homemade toffees.
We never lived near any of our relatives for the most part, so guests were rarely an issue. For four years during my childhood we did live within driving distance of my paternal grandparents, whom my mother loathed. By October in each of those years, she had mounted full blow campaigns to discourage her in-laws from joining us for Christmas. They ignored her and did come a couple of times, but were never invited to stay overnight. It was drive, arrive, eat and leave.
Within just a few years of buying the fake tree, my mother declared that it was now too much trouble to drag out and decorate, so no more tree - period. Gifts had always been minimal (the mainstays were socks, underwear and flannelette granny-style nightgowns), but slowly became even more so. What gifts were given, year after year, were wrapped in the same heavily creased, re-used Christmas paper (old tape still visible), topped with old bows flattened from being crushed in storage the other 11 months of the year. A Christmas morning ritual was gathering up the used bows and refolding the wrapping paper for the next year. And she adopted this approach well ahead of the recycling trend!
As soon as I moved out on my own, I started hosting Christmas with all the trimmings for my family. Lights, decorations, real tree, home cooking and gifts with new wrapping paper and pretty (uncrushed) bows. I noticed my mother began taking home the wrap and bows I used for her gifts, and I started seeing her use this left over wrap for her gift-giving the following year. That didn't continue for too long, because she soon declared "no more gift buying/gift giving of any sort" for Christmas. This wasn't some philosophical stance against the materialism of the holiday; she was just cheap. I still bought her gifts regardless, and she started handing me a cheque for $25.00 every Christmas, with specific instructions to use it to purchase the turkey.
I remember Christmas 1999 most vividly - it was one of the first Christmases in years that she had to host a traditional celebration for a crowd (i.e., the 8 members of the family of her second husband - who were also staying with them), entertain and cook a turkey. I was bedridden that year recovering from surgery, so had nothing to do with any of this situation. But I remember her phoning me that Christmas night after dinner and complaining bitterly about how much work it all was, and how much she absolutely hated doing it.
Recently unearthing quite a vast treasure trove of Christmas ornaments and decorations - all carefully squirrelled away in different closets, drawers, and storage chests at her condo - has been surreal. It does not in any way fit with the woman I knew, and her decades of Christmas complaining and resistance. She had accumulated enough Christmas stuff to decorate a full size tree and make an entire house look merry. There was every kind of tree decoration from china ones, to pewter to blown glass, as well as candles, tea towels, and boxes of Christmas crackers, tablecloths, placemats and napkins. There were Christmas-themed serving dishes, lots of mugs, and little knives with candycane and Christmas stocking handles for spreading liver pate or cutting into a cheese ball. Everything was brand new and never used. The most common item was ornaments in all sizes, styles and shapes that depicted Santa Claus - from tiny ceramic Santas less than an inch long, to a 1 foot tall glass version of St. Nick.
I believe it can only mean my mother had a deep, inner, secret longing for Christmas and everything that it evokes...the love, connection, sharing, generosity, good will...but somehow she could not embrace any of it and truly enjoy it. How very sad.
We packed it all up and delivered it to Good Will this afternoon. I believe the things my mother bought with such fervour, yet never used or enjoyed, need to be released to find homes with people who can embrace the season and celebrate all the joyous feelings. In essence, my mother has given her last Christmas gifts.
May there be peace.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
The Gall
Despite having an ultrasound test that showed nothing back in June, I am convinced I have gall bladder trouble.
I've had 5 "attacks" since late February 2010, and they are becoming more frequent and severe. I spent about 12 hours in agony yesterday, so am headed back to see the doctor next week.
So far, I've been really lucky that the debilitating attacks have hit me at times that didn't interfere with anything else going on in my work or life; I was able to spend a few uninterrupted hours huddled on the bathroom floor groaning. Heaven forbid one should hit when I am supposed to be getting on a plane, or spending a day leading a group workshop.
I can see no pattern or trigger for the attacks. They happen at differing hours of the day or night, and there doesn't seem to be a direct relation to having a full or empty stomach, or some particular food trigger. If I knew what was causing the attacks, maybe I could avoid it. I eliminated alcohol over 5 months ago, have been eating healthier, exercising more, and have lost over 14 pounds, but the attacks are still happening, and more frequently.
My internet research shows there is a hereditary aspect, and I do recall my father has his gall bladder removed in his early 50's. I don't really want to have to undergo surgery, and read that there is quite a high chance of ongoing problems post-surgery (from the symptoms continuing even after removal, to issues such as "bile dumping" which sounds pretty unappealing). But I can't see living the next 30 years coping with this unpredictable pain and incapacity during attacks.
I'm concerned that it's proving difficult to get this diagnosed. Again, all my symptoms (midsection pain and pressure under my ribs, especially down the right side, pain that can radiate through to my back, and vomiting) seem to best fit with gall bladder problems, but why didn't the ultrasound show anything? I don't have gall stones, but maybe that's all the ultrasound can definitively check for?
I don't deal well with illness or feeling sick, so this is causing me real consternation. I don't know what's happening or why, and what it's going to take to get this fixed. Hopefully I'll be okay this winter and won't have to experience the Mexican health care/hospital system (although I have heard good things). But, I'd rather get this dealt with where I can speak the language.
I think I will go lie down now!
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
I've had 5 "attacks" since late February 2010, and they are becoming more frequent and severe. I spent about 12 hours in agony yesterday, so am headed back to see the doctor next week.
So far, I've been really lucky that the debilitating attacks have hit me at times that didn't interfere with anything else going on in my work or life; I was able to spend a few uninterrupted hours huddled on the bathroom floor groaning. Heaven forbid one should hit when I am supposed to be getting on a plane, or spending a day leading a group workshop.
I can see no pattern or trigger for the attacks. They happen at differing hours of the day or night, and there doesn't seem to be a direct relation to having a full or empty stomach, or some particular food trigger. If I knew what was causing the attacks, maybe I could avoid it. I eliminated alcohol over 5 months ago, have been eating healthier, exercising more, and have lost over 14 pounds, but the attacks are still happening, and more frequently.
My internet research shows there is a hereditary aspect, and I do recall my father has his gall bladder removed in his early 50's. I don't really want to have to undergo surgery, and read that there is quite a high chance of ongoing problems post-surgery (from the symptoms continuing even after removal, to issues such as "bile dumping" which sounds pretty unappealing). But I can't see living the next 30 years coping with this unpredictable pain and incapacity during attacks.
I'm concerned that it's proving difficult to get this diagnosed. Again, all my symptoms (midsection pain and pressure under my ribs, especially down the right side, pain that can radiate through to my back, and vomiting) seem to best fit with gall bladder problems, but why didn't the ultrasound show anything? I don't have gall stones, but maybe that's all the ultrasound can definitively check for?
I don't deal well with illness or feeling sick, so this is causing me real consternation. I don't know what's happening or why, and what it's going to take to get this fixed. Hopefully I'll be okay this winter and won't have to experience the Mexican health care/hospital system (although I have heard good things). But, I'd rather get this dealt with where I can speak the language.
I think I will go lie down now!
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Sherlock Mallett
Back on August 12, 2010 I wrote a blog post called "Witness Protection" complaining that I was getting dragged back from Mexico this winter because I had been supoenaed as a witness in a criminal trial (that didn't even involve me).
Four phone calls and 3 months later, I finally get an appointment to see the Crown Counsel who will be prosecuting the case (of a man charged with breaking into my mother's condo back in August 2005, assaulting and stealing from her in the process). Although the police have my mother's detailed statement about the events, and DNA evidence belonging to the accused that was found on a man's watch strap left at the scene (but it took them 5 years to test and match the DNA with the accused!), apparently this doesn't necessarily mean the case is a slam dunk.
The big problem is my mother died in January 2010, and cannot testify against the accused herself. It's falling to me (what else is new) to represent her and look out for the public's interests, by doing what I can to help put a criminal behind bars.
Okay, so there is no getting out of this - my "extradition" from Mexico is going to happen, so I may as well jump fully on board the "Prosecution Express." I have every confidence in the prosecuting lawyer, so that helps. I spent two hours with her so far, and really appreciated her approach and insights. Maybe it's her job to get reluctant witnesses to fully cooperate and, if so, she's very good at it.
There is also a large part of me that is a mix of detective and lawyer...quite frankly, I am good at gathering evidence and arguing a compelling case, and I probably have an overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. And stuff that I see is wrong, I can't help but want it fixed.
So, this spring, this citizen will be tearing herself away from the sun, sea and sand in order to take the witness stand. I predict the accused will be wishing he'd simply pled guilty.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Four phone calls and 3 months later, I finally get an appointment to see the Crown Counsel who will be prosecuting the case (of a man charged with breaking into my mother's condo back in August 2005, assaulting and stealing from her in the process). Although the police have my mother's detailed statement about the events, and DNA evidence belonging to the accused that was found on a man's watch strap left at the scene (but it took them 5 years to test and match the DNA with the accused!), apparently this doesn't necessarily mean the case is a slam dunk.
The big problem is my mother died in January 2010, and cannot testify against the accused herself. It's falling to me (what else is new) to represent her and look out for the public's interests, by doing what I can to help put a criminal behind bars.
Okay, so there is no getting out of this - my "extradition" from Mexico is going to happen, so I may as well jump fully on board the "Prosecution Express." I have every confidence in the prosecuting lawyer, so that helps. I spent two hours with her so far, and really appreciated her approach and insights. Maybe it's her job to get reluctant witnesses to fully cooperate and, if so, she's very good at it.
There is also a large part of me that is a mix of detective and lawyer...quite frankly, I am good at gathering evidence and arguing a compelling case, and I probably have an overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. And stuff that I see is wrong, I can't help but want it fixed.
So, this spring, this citizen will be tearing herself away from the sun, sea and sand in order to take the witness stand. I predict the accused will be wishing he'd simply pled guilty.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Adios, 2010!
I am getting excited about ringing in 2011, and not just because we'll be celebrating in Mexico with visiting friends P. & D. I am actually most happy about seeing 2010 from the rear view mirror.
There have been some wonderful things about 2010; I'm not discounting the high points and meaningful moments by any means. The high points, though, were mostly centrepieces in the lives of others that we celebrated from the periphery (no matter how wholeheartedly, we were more sideline witnesses than direct participants in the good stuff). But the 2010 good stuff that happened in the lives of the people we love comprises a list that should not be ignored:
- 2 healthy births;
- a romantic and celebrated engagement;
- positive and much deserved career advancement/career changes;
- world travels; and,
- visits/good times spent with friends and family.
The not-so-great stuff for us that I want to vigorously wave "bye bye" to includes:
- death;
- flooding;
- health issues;
- family estrangement; and,
- underemployment/economic challenges.
I'm willing to bet my lists would look similar to many other peoples'.
If I were to sum up my 2010 in one sentence, I'd say "My weight is down and my hopes are up." By "weight" I mean both the burdens I've been carrying that have weighed heavily, and my actual physical weight. Although I can't be sure of my exact weight loss (because I was living in a hotel without a scale at the time my weight started to shift), I think it's in the range of 14 pounds, maybe even more. I still need to lose another 8-10 pounds, and then keep it all off.
As to the psychological "weight", I hope to lay most of that down in 2011 with finalizing everything to do with my mother's estate. I am about 95% done with all that work. When it's finished, there will be no more need for any further interactions with my sole, distant sibling, who appears quite satisfied with her financial gains with nary a concern about the loss of her relationship with me. And I have to say I'm quite fine with letting that veneer of a relationship go. We haven't communicated (except about our mother's situation and estate) for about a year and a half; quite honestly, I don't miss her. And I would expect she'd say the same about me. We are who we are - neither of us is going to change to the extent that would be required to accommodate the needs and expectations of the other.
As to my hopes being up, well, 2011 holds a lot of promise. This is the year that will see us complete the addition at our cottage (it will have been a four year effort), and I have some interesting business prospects on the horizon.
Whereas 2010 was a lot about "unravelling", I hope 2011 will be more about a coming together of many pieces of my personal puzzle.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
There have been some wonderful things about 2010; I'm not discounting the high points and meaningful moments by any means. The high points, though, were mostly centrepieces in the lives of others that we celebrated from the periphery (no matter how wholeheartedly, we were more sideline witnesses than direct participants in the good stuff). But the 2010 good stuff that happened in the lives of the people we love comprises a list that should not be ignored:
- 2 healthy births;
- a romantic and celebrated engagement;
- positive and much deserved career advancement/career changes;
- world travels; and,
- visits/good times spent with friends and family.
The not-so-great stuff for us that I want to vigorously wave "bye bye" to includes:
- death;
- flooding;
- health issues;
- family estrangement; and,
- underemployment/economic challenges.
I'm willing to bet my lists would look similar to many other peoples'.
If I were to sum up my 2010 in one sentence, I'd say "My weight is down and my hopes are up." By "weight" I mean both the burdens I've been carrying that have weighed heavily, and my actual physical weight. Although I can't be sure of my exact weight loss (because I was living in a hotel without a scale at the time my weight started to shift), I think it's in the range of 14 pounds, maybe even more. I still need to lose another 8-10 pounds, and then keep it all off.
As to the psychological "weight", I hope to lay most of that down in 2011 with finalizing everything to do with my mother's estate. I am about 95% done with all that work. When it's finished, there will be no more need for any further interactions with my sole, distant sibling, who appears quite satisfied with her financial gains with nary a concern about the loss of her relationship with me. And I have to say I'm quite fine with letting that veneer of a relationship go. We haven't communicated (except about our mother's situation and estate) for about a year and a half; quite honestly, I don't miss her. And I would expect she'd say the same about me. We are who we are - neither of us is going to change to the extent that would be required to accommodate the needs and expectations of the other.
As to my hopes being up, well, 2011 holds a lot of promise. This is the year that will see us complete the addition at our cottage (it will have been a four year effort), and I have some interesting business prospects on the horizon.
Whereas 2010 was a lot about "unravelling", I hope 2011 will be more about a coming together of many pieces of my personal puzzle.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Winter Wonder
Judging from the few family photos that were taken in my very early years, you'd think I grew up wearing a snowsuit. There I am, stiffly bundled from head to toe, and standing in a snowy yard - positioned either on wooden skis, or next to a snowman, or on skis and next to a snowman.
Because I grew up in eastern Canada, for the longest time I thought I was one of those people who likes experiencing the four distinct seasons. I have slowly come to the realization I am not one of those people after all. I am actually a one-season-person, and that season is summer.
I moved to the west coast of Canada at 17 when my father retired from the Navy, and have lived here ever since. But I have never gotten used to the long, dreary, rainy winters...day after day of grey skies, and weeks on end with hardly a glimpse of the sun. Our cold rainy winter is preceded by a cool, rainy fall, and followed by a cool rainy spring. Sometimes we have temperate rainy summers! I don't have an actual diagnosis of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), but I bet I am close to it.
I take rain as a personal insult. Silly, I know, but I really dislike it. I know it's essential and the planet can't do without it, but we just get more than our fair share in this neck of the woods. At least we don't have to shovel rain; I am thankful for that aspect.
Victoria ground to a halt yesterday because it snowed a few inches. The city and its inhabitants are always caught off guard when this occurs because it is a rare event. A cold and snowy winter is in the forecast, and it has started early.
I can't wait to escape to Mexico from "The Great White North." It's freezing cold today (see photo of the downtown frozen fountain), but the snow has stopped and the sun is shining. I used to think I could take the cold if it was sunny. Nope. Cold and rainy is the worst. Cold and sunny is a step up, but still not acceptable.
I have officially become a "winter wussy".
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Because I grew up in eastern Canada, for the longest time I thought I was one of those people who likes experiencing the four distinct seasons. I have slowly come to the realization I am not one of those people after all. I am actually a one-season-person, and that season is summer.
I moved to the west coast of Canada at 17 when my father retired from the Navy, and have lived here ever since. But I have never gotten used to the long, dreary, rainy winters...day after day of grey skies, and weeks on end with hardly a glimpse of the sun. Our cold rainy winter is preceded by a cool, rainy fall, and followed by a cool rainy spring. Sometimes we have temperate rainy summers! I don't have an actual diagnosis of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), but I bet I am close to it.
I take rain as a personal insult. Silly, I know, but I really dislike it. I know it's essential and the planet can't do without it, but we just get more than our fair share in this neck of the woods. At least we don't have to shovel rain; I am thankful for that aspect.
Victoria ground to a halt yesterday because it snowed a few inches. The city and its inhabitants are always caught off guard when this occurs because it is a rare event. A cold and snowy winter is in the forecast, and it has started early.
I can't wait to escape to Mexico from "The Great White North." It's freezing cold today (see photo of the downtown frozen fountain), but the snow has stopped and the sun is shining. I used to think I could take the cold if it was sunny. Nope. Cold and rainy is the worst. Cold and sunny is a step up, but still not acceptable.
I have officially become a "winter wussy".
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Light My (Reading) Fire!
I am so excited; I just got a Kindle (a digital book reader)! Once I learn how to use it, it is going to make my reading life so much easier and simpler, especially when travelling. No longer will I have to devote so much suitcase space and weight to books! I am a really fast reader and can easily devour a substantial book in a day or two, when I am focused.
The Kindle also solves the problem of shelf and storage space for books, which is kind of good and bad at the same time. I do like the look and feel of books on shelves. Funny (and rather sad) to think I probably won't be adding any more books to my bookshelves.
I am probably going to start downloading digital books to my Kindle today. I drew a big blank when I first thought about what I want to read this winter while we are down south. It's the same blank mind experience I have when thinking about what music I might want to download from iTunes! In those instances, it seems I can't remember a single song title.
I solved my book shopping dilemma by spending some time at a Chapters store location yesterday. I cruised all my favourite sections with my BlackBerry in hand and just e-mailed myself a list of book titles and authors to come home and download.
I felt a little guilty doing my window shopping at Chapters, as I will be purchasing and downloading to my Kindle from Amazon. I attracted a bit of attention from the Chapters' clerks, and was approached several times and asked if I needed assistance. I just said I was just putting a Christmas reading wish list together, which was kind of true - but allowed them to think I might actually be giving Chapters my business. I didn't buy the Chapters "Kobo" digital book reader because it doesn't have a highlighting function and, when I read (especially business and leadership books) I have a highlighting compulsion.
I know I am going to miss the feel and smell of having a real book in my hands - but the sheer convenience of the Kindle outweighs any of my nostalgic leanings. It is just a very cool little device, and even techno-dunce moi is happy to have made this switch.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
The Kindle also solves the problem of shelf and storage space for books, which is kind of good and bad at the same time. I do like the look and feel of books on shelves. Funny (and rather sad) to think I probably won't be adding any more books to my bookshelves.
I am probably going to start downloading digital books to my Kindle today. I drew a big blank when I first thought about what I want to read this winter while we are down south. It's the same blank mind experience I have when thinking about what music I might want to download from iTunes! In those instances, it seems I can't remember a single song title.
I solved my book shopping dilemma by spending some time at a Chapters store location yesterday. I cruised all my favourite sections with my BlackBerry in hand and just e-mailed myself a list of book titles and authors to come home and download.
I felt a little guilty doing my window shopping at Chapters, as I will be purchasing and downloading to my Kindle from Amazon. I attracted a bit of attention from the Chapters' clerks, and was approached several times and asked if I needed assistance. I just said I was just putting a Christmas reading wish list together, which was kind of true - but allowed them to think I might actually be giving Chapters my business. I didn't buy the Chapters "Kobo" digital book reader because it doesn't have a highlighting function and, when I read (especially business and leadership books) I have a highlighting compulsion.
I know I am going to miss the feel and smell of having a real book in my hands - but the sheer convenience of the Kindle outweighs any of my nostalgic leanings. It is just a very cool little device, and even techno-dunce moi is happy to have made this switch.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Sunday, November 7, 2010
"Warning - Entering Unmarked Map Area"
We took a road trip to visit family and dear friends over the Canadian Thanksgiving holiday in October. It was really exciting, not only to go visit and spend time with our loved ones, but also because we got to drive our brand new SUV ("Henry")inland through the Rocky Mountains. What a gorgeous drive, made all the more enjoyable in our new vehicle.
"Henry" performed admirably in all respects but one: a expensive built-in-dash navigation system does NOT take the worry (or arguments!) out of finding your way around in unfamiliar places.
Even with up-to-date software loaded into the "nav" system, we regularly found the computerized female voice intoning: "Warning - entering unmarked map area - proceed with caution." In other words, the nav system didn't have a frigging clue where we were, or how to direct us to the destination we had programmed in! We'd look at the nav screen display to see our vehicle, represented by a disembodied arrow, floating in unmapped space - even as we travelled down a major six lane highway. Alternatively, the nav system would direct us to make illegal U-turns, or tell us we had arrived at our destination while we were still blocks away.
It was really frustrating, and caused us far more angst and irritated verbal exchanges than any low-tech map reading and navigating we have done in the past! We were especially infuriated (for different reasons, mind you) by the learning curve involved in finding out what nav functions are actually disabled while the car is in "drive." This is for safety reasons, of course. The car doesn't have any way of knowing it is actually the passenger doing the programming and allowing the driver to stay focused on the road. The manufacturers had to assume they would need to keep drivers from attempting to program the nav system while underway, so ensured you would need to be pulled over to do more complicated functions.
Until we figured this aspect out, there were some nasty words uttered while I figured the nav system was utter crap for not accepting my inputs, and John figured I was utterly stupid for not being able to punch the right stuff in!
But what has stuck with me since that trip was the warning about "entering unmarked map area" and needing to use caution. Right now, my life (especially my business/career) feels much like that disembodied arrow floating on the nav screen. Essentially I am in uncharted midlife territory, daily trying to figure out how to move forward to an as-yet unknown ultimate destination.
Like that drive through the Rockies, I want a beautiful, exhilarating, but safe trip (it's okay to include some some bumps and surprises) that ends in the arms of loved ones.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
"Henry" performed admirably in all respects but one: a expensive built-in-dash navigation system does NOT take the worry (or arguments!) out of finding your way around in unfamiliar places.
Even with up-to-date software loaded into the "nav" system, we regularly found the computerized female voice intoning: "Warning - entering unmarked map area - proceed with caution." In other words, the nav system didn't have a frigging clue where we were, or how to direct us to the destination we had programmed in! We'd look at the nav screen display to see our vehicle, represented by a disembodied arrow, floating in unmapped space - even as we travelled down a major six lane highway. Alternatively, the nav system would direct us to make illegal U-turns, or tell us we had arrived at our destination while we were still blocks away.
It was really frustrating, and caused us far more angst and irritated verbal exchanges than any low-tech map reading and navigating we have done in the past! We were especially infuriated (for different reasons, mind you) by the learning curve involved in finding out what nav functions are actually disabled while the car is in "drive." This is for safety reasons, of course. The car doesn't have any way of knowing it is actually the passenger doing the programming and allowing the driver to stay focused on the road. The manufacturers had to assume they would need to keep drivers from attempting to program the nav system while underway, so ensured you would need to be pulled over to do more complicated functions.
Until we figured this aspect out, there were some nasty words uttered while I figured the nav system was utter crap for not accepting my inputs, and John figured I was utterly stupid for not being able to punch the right stuff in!
But what has stuck with me since that trip was the warning about "entering unmarked map area" and needing to use caution. Right now, my life (especially my business/career) feels much like that disembodied arrow floating on the nav screen. Essentially I am in uncharted midlife territory, daily trying to figure out how to move forward to an as-yet unknown ultimate destination.
Like that drive through the Rockies, I want a beautiful, exhilarating, but safe trip (it's okay to include some some bumps and surprises) that ends in the arms of loved ones.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Behind The Door
This is the new front door at our cottage. We have been working on this major addition and new front entryway for about three years. Like everything in life, progress is significantly dictated by time and money. Getting and installing the front door was a big step forward in the direction of completion.
The front door is custom, and quite impressive - bigger than average and solid wood with some nice hardware accents. John, my husband, was adamant he was having a "speakeasy", which is that little grate and small section that opens so you can look out and ask "Who's there?" before you open the door. Our good friend who helped John install it calls it the "Viking door" because he thought it made such a strong architectural statement (and probably also because he thinks John's such a bold guy who is hardly ever daunted, which is true!).
But, for now, there is nothing behind that fine looking door. The addition is still an empty shell of stud walls and plywood floors. It is an unfinished work-in-progress. You can open and walk through the door, but the future beyond the door sill is yet to be created.
That door is the perfect metaphor for where I am in my life. I've created a lot of fine looking and impressive exterior stuff but, at this time, there isn't much behind the door.
What I mean is that my future is waiting to be designed and brought into being. Just like we are facing a ton of choices and decisions around finishing that interior space (e.g., plumbing, electrical, drywall, lighting, flooring, millwork, paint colours, window coverings etc.) I have to make a lot of choices/decisions that will generate the final look of my future. There are many doors I can open and walk through.
What I want to ensure is that I love, feel comfortable, and can really thrive in the inside space that lies beyond the fabulous doorway.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
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