I've Nothing to Do!

For the past almost two weeks, I have been with people.  There was a big group of us traveling in Vegas and of course, there is rarely just the two us when we are home.

So over the weekend, I was feeling the need for a little peace and quiet.  Stretching space, if you will.  Kevin has to work through Wednesday then is off for the holiday weekend so I was focusing on the next three days of quiet.

Cue forward to 8:30 this morning.  I was showered, dressed, chores for the day finished and...

Boredom.

The dvr is full of shows to watch, there is a stack of books and magazines, there are projects that I want to finish, errands to run, Christmas cards to write.  It's not like there isn't anything to do around here.

Yet: total boredom.

I was suddenly every eight-year-old on summer break.  "I'm bored! There's nothing to do!"

What finally forced me to do something is that Someone Who Lives in This House Named Lucy began to get into mischief, including stealing a coffee mug from my office.  (souvenir from Vegas)

If I had to take her outside then I figured I might as well go do the two errands that were hanging over my head.  Yeah, it took longer to get to town than those two errands took.  Less than an hour later, I'm back at the house.

This is what I've done in the past two hours: Put one book away.  Take another out.  Switch the laundry from washer to dryer.  Watch Pitch Perfect for the twentieth  time.  Make eggs for lunch. Play one game on the computer.

What's that?  I only have three more hours until Kevin gets home.  AAAUUUUGGGGHHHH.

I do have to figure out how to connect the laptop to the television.  The dvr didn't record Scandal while we were gone and my life is ruined.  I do need to finish reorganizing our closet now that I can put my summer clothing away. 

So...there's twenty minutes.

Maybe it's because I had all those months of doing nothing last year that I've lost the taste for it.

Yeah, that's not it.

Surprised by a Keepsake

One of the tasks on my list of things to do is to organize the cedar chest.  It's a mammoth thing, built by my father-in-law when Kevin and I were married.

There's some random stuff in there but I really try to keep linens in there as well as keepsakes.  Every once in a while, I cull through it to make sure that I'm keeping things that are important rather than keeping them for the sake of keeping them.

I have my baby clothes and artwork from grade school.  I have the curtain from Kevin's childhood bedroom, his favorite puzzle, and a special towel that was his.  His mother really didn't keep much stuff, partially as there wasn't much to keep (they were very poor when the boys were young) and they moved around a bit.

I have stuff that my nieces' made us when they were young girls.  I am tempted to give them back, especially now that the eldest has a baby son now but I think I'll wait a bit more time before I do.

There was a small box that I didn't recognize and to be honest, I don't remember ever having.  I don't mind admitting that I got a little teary when I opened it.  It was my grandpa's Christening gown with the "Welcome Baby" card that my great grandmother sent to me when I was born.

My great grandma's name is Amy and for some reason, I feel kind of a kindred spirit with her.  I don't remember her at all and I think she passed when I was very young.  I just love that she gifted this to me and wrote directly to me in the card, although I was a tiny baby.  The idea that she wrote "Love you" is astounding to me because I didn't hear that from any of my family growing up.  Yet there it is.

Now it's time to pass this along.  I'm going to put it in the mail for my niece, whose son is named for her grandpa.  He is the fourth Freddy in our family, the first being Amy's son.

Stalker or Not Stalker?

Oooh, we had a disagreement!  Not a fight but a complete disagreement.  holy buckets.

Someone in the family put the Life 360 app on their spouses phone.   What's that you ask?  It's this:
Family Locator by Life360 is the most accurate and powerful family locator app.  Using the latest GPS tracking technology, Family Locator lets you create groups of family and friends so you can find friends and family locations on a private map and "get alerted when a circle member reaches a destination"

Oh.

Hell.

No.

That, in my not humble opinion, is what they call a stalker app.  It is what a parent might put on a teenager's phone.  (also: totally disagree with that) But this is not a child's phone.  This is an adult's phone. A married adult.  A Grown Ass Adult as the Nephew would say.  (it's not him, btw)

I can't think of one good single reason to have that app on my - or anyone's - phone.  Not that I have anything to hide as I'm perfectly capable of texting Kevin "I'm home" or "Made it fine" when the situation warranted. (snow, long drive, car troubles, etc.)   He doesn't need to know, or much less care, if I'm at the grocery store, credit union, or Target. 

And there's this thing?  It's called "trust", you may have heard of it?  Privacy is another one. Might want to look those up.

Kevin sees it as a benevolent thing.  "It would be nice to know that you've made it home safely" and thinks I'm insane for thinking it's a stalker app.  (Are you gas-lighting me, Kevin?)

So, what say you?  Stalker app or It Would Be Nice to Know?   I promise I will tell Kevin if you agree with him.

Seasons Greetings from Who Now?

I just received our first Christmas card.  I know, right?  Who does that? 

Never mind that I have my Christmas card kit next to me right this very minute. You never mind that.
Who has their sh*t together prior to Thanksgiving to send a card?

Oh.  The grocery store.  Very well then.

Wait...the *grocery* store?  Yep.  It's the high end store that I've used more frequently since I fell and apparently they have recognized that effort.  I guess the slightly higher prices are paying off with a very nice Christmas card with a coupon for American Greetings cards.  (clever, yes?)

I guess I'm glad that it wasn't from a friend that would require to me to call or email to repeat the second paragraph of this post to them.

Time to get busy!

Damages

I was reading something the other day and now, of course, I don't remember what it was but it gave me an interesting-to-me thought:

What stories do the damages you have in your house tell?  Everyone has something: a crack, a broken window pane, a scratch, something that has a story about it.

As this house is fairly new, I had to really think about it but I came up with three:

Scuff marks on the wall next to the door
These are from Missy because she would not allow a human to leave the house before her.  I would like to think that she was doing it for our protection but I think it had more to do with she had to make sure that the universe hadn't moved one single thing while she was inside.

Gouge in the drywall outside our bedroom
While I was in the wheelchair for those fun-filled months, the turn from the hallway into our bedroom was tight.  The axle of the front wheel scraped the wall as I turned.  In a fit of frustration I whined to Kevin "I'm ruining the house with this damn thing."  Ummm, no, it's a gouge in the wall where you can only see if you're laying on the floor.  But I still notice it, not daily, but frequently and it bugs me.

Broken blinds in our bedroom
As you may remember, I am not so much tall.  Nor am I a patient person.  We weren't in our house a few days when I broke the first blind slat.  Because of the not-tall, in order to close the windows I had to pull away from the window (not up because that's silly talk and inconvenient) the blinds to close the window.  Big surprise that there are now four-five slat-ends missing on each window.  Klassy.

So, yes, with each little bit of damage, there is a story.  What's yours?

Shadys Back

We just returned from six days in Vegas. There was a huge group of us and we had a great time.

Kevin ended up crewing on two race teams so that was pretty damn cool.
While those two cars didn't win, two of our Canadian friends won. I felt proud to be an honorary Canadian for sure.

The trip had it's moments that I'll recap later. For now, I'm cozy in my house with everything unpacked, laundry started, and dinner being provided by the parents.

Life is good.

His Ticket to Heaven

A way long time ago we were friends with the pastor of our church. Not just see-you-on-Sunday friends but wanna go for a ride in the racecar friends.

At the beginning of the friendship, he and his wife invited us over for dinner. We were nervous as we waited at the door.  Even though he was the guy that blasted the Beatles through the church, we were still having dinner at The Pastors House.

Two of the guys on Kevin's crew are new and it turns out very churchy. Kevin told one of them the other day that he had earned his place in heaven because he had dinner with the pastor. His guy was skeptical until Kevin further explained.

"I earned entry when I ate all my dinner. They made Everything I Hate. Pork chops, broccoli, and rice pilaf with cheesecake for dessert. And I ate everything."

I will admit it was if God himself guided their menu as a test. Especially since the god I believe in has a sense of humor.

I'm Thinking About This Because People Tell Me Things

One of the girls at the coffee stand told me her romantic life story the other morning.  We're facebook friends and we've known her for a few years so talking about this wasn't unusual.  That being said, it always surprises me the things that people tell me. 

Micahla seems like a good person although a bit of party girl, which has been an issue from time to time. (showing up late to work, getting tossed from places, you know: the usual *eye-rolling*) She is one year away from finishing her degree and for the life of me, I can't remember what it will be.  I think it's an education degree, lending to the I think she's a good person description.

She has a boyfriend who is Australian.  He lives in Vancouver and works as a chef at a high-end restaurant.  His Canadian work visa expires in a month-ish so he's returning to Australia.  One of the other reasons that he's returning is his dad is ill. His dad owns a high-end restaurant that he will begin working at while his dad is having treatment. This seems like a tidy package but it also seems like there is perhaps more to his story than either she mentions or that he has disclosed. (like how he ended up in Canada in the first place) Once everything is resolved, he would like to return to the States or Canada.

They've been dating about nine months and are fairly serious. She has been purposefully dating a few guys over the past two years after being in a long term relationship.  She said she doesn't want to be a serial monogamist then regret it later in life.   She also says that she can see them go the distance but that, truthfully, they're both holding back because of the whole Australian thing so who really knows.

Apparently he has some issues regarding their relationship (insecurity, she said) as his parents never married (each other or anyone else), his dad lived far away, and he's always been surrounded by women.  In other words: he has no idea what a relationship even looks like.  She said that this doesn't bother her per se but that is an issue.  To me, it's a bit of a red flag but more on the pink side.

She's trying to decide at what level to pursue this relationship once he returns home.  She says that she's just going to "see how it goes" but it feels like maybe possibly in the back of her mind she's considering moving there.  She's saving for a trip through Europe for graduation but also saving to travel to Australia to see him.  Clearly, she's not discarding her plans because of this guy but it's on her radar.

If this were a movie, they would get married so he could become a United States citizen or she could become an Australian citizen once his family situation gets settled.  But this isn't a movie so that hasn't been an option for the two of them.

I was trying to imagine what choice I would make in her situation, at that age.  I think I would have probably been all Jane Eyre about it: melodramatic, we can never be together so would try to move on, all the while hoping something would change.  (and for Jane, it did.) 

In a fantasy version of my fantasy life, I would save up and move to Australia on a whim not caring if the relationship worked out or not because when you're in your twenties, very few things are permanent. And it's AUSTRALIA.

All said and done, I'm not even a little bit envious of her situation.  I would not want to repeat my twenties again for any amount of money.  This is coming from a girl that married, divorced, dated, and remarried by the time she was 25.  (to be fair: I was married when I was nineteen)

Lights Out

The lights went out while I was shopping yesterday. The county was under a wind warning so it wasnt surprising. Other than not expecting to be in the dark.

It was just a little scary as I was at the way back of the store. Not only was it pitch black, I am not as familiar with it as the grocery section. Also the grocery has through aisles but not the merchandise part. I realized what a bad design this was just then.

I had a quick succession of thoughts:
"Eff"
"How do I get out?"
"Do I take or leave the cart?"(yes, I decided, because it would run into things before I would.)
"Why is it so quiet?"
"Don't panic"
"Where is my phone?"
"I want to tell Kevin about this"

I was completely surprised by how dark it was and for how long. I guess I assumed there would be emergency lighting but there wasn't. It took a minute for the generator to kick on then even then it didn't quite reach where I was. Again: back of the store.

Then the lights flickered on, went out, flickered on, the generator came on again, then finally the lights stayed on.

I was surprised at how rattled I was. I'm usually calm in an emergency but this freaked me out a bit. I grabbed a pair of levis for Kevin and hurried to the cashier. While I was checking out, the lights flickered again. I could not get out of there quickly enough.

So I can cross that off of my list of things to experience.

Random Item from My House

Somewhere along the way and since we've moved into this house, I've taken to keeping our fortune cookie fortunes.  I don't even know why, I just have.

This is a bowl that I brought home one day (again, for no reason) that I keep them in.  Maybe for future reference (excuse the unintended pun).

There Are Always Stories to Tell at the Racetrack

More racing stories...

It turns out that Kevin and his brother met in the final round during the last official CPSA race.  It wasn't as planned, we were supposed to go out in the semi-final.

Anyway, the Nephew helps with both racecars so it put him in a spot.  Help his dad or help his Uncle, who actually needs him on the track more.

In a show of faith in humanity, a guy we race with (I call him that because I wouldn't describe him as a friend) offered to work with Kevin's brother so that the Nephew could step aside. How nice is that?  Nephew helped Kevin and I after all. I love that about dragracers.

Then we test  & tuned (exactly what it sounds like) a few weekend ago. October is too effing cold to go racing, especially next to the Fraser River.

The boys kept getting in the same line in the staging lanes this time.  I would do my work with Kevin, watch him break-the-beams and stage then have to turn and pull his brother onto the track at the same time.  It was making me nuts, especially since a certain driver doesn't  always pay attention.  Anyway, I'm certain that this provided entertainment for anyone who was paying attention.

The last pass of the season happened past 8:00 pm and we really shouldn't have done it. It was too cold, there was dew, and it's freaking OCTOBER.  Well, sure enough, the car in front of ours had issues and leaked water down the track.

This is where I'm grateful for our friends. God Bless them, seriously.  One of the guys went stomping across the lane, yelling at the track guys "That M'er F'er does it every time..." and just let them have it.

Meanwhile Kevin is sitting in the racecar questioning every decision he's ever made.  I was standing next to the car and when I realized what was happening, I knelt down and pointed out to him:

"Pal, look at the track. Look at all those guys out there working to make you safe.  There's the Nephew, the track manager, the starter, your friends. They're all out there right now. They will not send you down the track unless it's safe.  How lucky are you?"

Because seriously, how lucky are we?  I guess after the year we had, I just appreciate our friends twice as much as I ever have.

Now we're headed off to Vegas soon.  Kevin is the crew chief on a friend's car and I'm so damn proud.  I can't wait.

And this is my new favorite picture.  Taken last month.

Recreating Habits

I've been making more of an effort to sit down and write, like it's my job instead of leaving it up to when I get the urge.  It's cathartic for me and helps empty out a portion of my brain which is often over-full.

With that in mind, I'm scheduling myself to sit down and write during the weekends.  Kevin is usually outside and the puppy with him so the distractions are less.  I try to write in the afternoons when I get home but have found it only mildly successful.  I'm unsure exactly why (puppy) but the weekends seem better.

I've also reverted to writing in the office instead of at the dining table or my couch.  Something about the act of going into the office and sitting at the desk enables my brain to  click into writing mode. There's a little tinge of "Duh" about that but consider that I used to be able to write anywhere: work. racetrack, couch, bed, wherever.  Now, it just seems to take a more concentrated effort. I don't know why and I suppose it doesn't really matter.

I've cleaned up and out my desk, reverting back to how it was before throwing myself down the stairs.  This has taken a few Sundays but I think I'm to the place of "There are no more excuses." The drawers are organized, the surface is cleaned, there is no clutter around. Yes, I'm ignoring you stack of unread books! 

I settle in, usually, with a bottle of water or in today's case: a mocha, and music playing in the background.  I'd like to say that it's something that is soothing or fosters creativity but it's just the Canadian country music station.  I don't have my Sirius set up back here and I think it would just be one more thing to distract.  Also, Canadian radio makes me not miss my friends so much.
(And, the puppy.  Missy never cared about my writing other than to sigh and eye-roll because I was In Her Room whereas the puppy tends to be all puppy-ish and gets into mischief while I'm writing)

I alternate between laptops.  My old work one has zero memory so I use it if I'm simply writing without the use of pictures or anything and it is more comfortable to type on.  The new laptop is lovely but it has Windows 8 and anyone who has experienced that knows what I'm talking about.  (namely: don't swipe up on the pad or rest your left hand on the keys or unreasonable frustration ensues)

I'm still having separation anxiety from my keyboard and dinosaur computer.  I can type so much quickly on an ergonomic keyboard and the wheezing of the dinosaur was soothing.  Not to mention I still haven't gotten the hang of having my files on the cloud.  Sweet baby jesus, why I don't I just mutter about the good old days of banging away on a typewriter...

I am going to also try to write when I get home after work as well, kind of like doing your homework as soon as you get home from school.  This is a strange habit for me because if I had homework, I usually did it on the bus while riding home.  This doesn't seem like a transferable skill to use in adulthood.

I'm also going to post links on the twitter when I write.  Swistle does it and even though I read her every single day, I still get that little twinge of excitement when I see her post a link on twitter.  This will be an interesting habit to acquire.  I read the twitter during the day but I forget to actually post.  I'm unsure why that is.

So, as apropos during November's NaNoWriMo and NaNoBloPo, this is my new goal.