Winter is coming...

Today we worked outside, cleaning up leaves, sweeping out the porch and stowing outdoor furniture, mowing and mulching and wheeling refuse out in a barrow...  Winter was in the air ever so slightly.  Chilly enough outside for a heavy sweatshirt, but indoors the same gear makes you uncomfortably warm.  I made a chili and rice, and coming indoors to warmth and fragrant food was a homey comfort.

I love four distinct seasons, and welcome the arrival of snow.  I'll get sick of it before spring arrives, but I far prefer the beautiful white blanket to cover the earth than looking at dull brown everywhere.  Across from our home the lake will freeze, and we'll venture out several times to walk across the lake, pulling Emmett in the sled.  We'll go for winter walks, go sledding or tubing, perhaps skate or snowshoe or ski on occasion.  Shoveling, snowball fights and the making of snowmen and forts will figure in as well.  

It's the time of year when I start making soups again, and feel like baking things.  There have already been requests for a cake and cookies today alone.  Out on the porch where I was closing windows and sweeping, I found the stack of board games and got the urge to play one.  Perhaps tonight we'll play a card game or Cranium or Pictionary.  Engaging in these old-fashioned, homey activities is a pleasure.

I'm enjoying autumn, leaves, chill and all, and am glad winter is coming.

Exercise: that lovely, dreaded, impossible needed thing...

Exercise.  I enjoy certain forms of it, especially the kind where I'm having so much fun I barely notice the exercise at all.  Like any form of dance, yoga, volleyball, swimming...  I like walking, but walking the same route repetitively is no help in the motivation department, (BORING).  I really love hiking and being out in nature, but driving somewhere for exercise seems to take it out of the regular category.

I have lots of reasons to exercise, over age 40 and still possessive as I am of most of the weight I gained growing my four babies, the youngest of whom will turn 5 in the winter.  I was at my most fit at the time I got pregnant with my firstborn.  I've periodically worked on fitness in the 15 intervening years, when I wasn't breastfeeding (which represents more than 5 out of those 15 years) or just too tired to find the energy for it.  It's a vicious cycle, since I'm fully aware that a regular fitness regimen gives energy back.  But a lot of good that does a person when they feel too exhausted even to do the dishes.

My last baby particularly, born when I was 37, really seemed to do me in energy-wise.  I felt depleted for far longer and have really had trouble even caring about exercise.  Getting the family to go on an evening walk has been a huge accomplishment.  I've enjoyed a little yoga, a bike ride annually or so, dancing when I get the chance, and hikes on the occasional beautiful weekend.  But, except for brief and unsatisfactory attempt at Curves membership about 6 months after Emmett was born, I haven't built a regular, enjoyable habit of it.  And have been of the attitude that it might be impossible for me to do such a thing.

Now, it is time!  I've been building momentum to make myself a priority in this way.  Some could observe this as procrastination, but at this point I will just accept it as what I needed to get myself going.  A few weeks ago I saw an article on the web somewhere (maybe this one?), that told me for a total body workout that will give me great results and aid in weight loss you need to do only two exercises:  the kettlebell swing and burpees.  (Elli does the latter in gym class, and she was pretty sure they were called "herpes", but we disabused her of that notion pretty quickly, once we could stop laughing.) I don't have a kettlebell, so of course I couldn't start.  But I found a video on how to make your own here.  So yesterday I bought the parts at Lowes.  But I didn't realize that you are supposed to already own weighted plates.  So today I will go and get those!

In November, I've created space and done yoga followed by meditation twice now, and it feels great.  I've danced with my son, done a few Pilates moves, and enjoyed several gentle walks.  I'm going to pick up the pace and put a personal emphasis on fitness and activity.  It's time to nurture myself in this way.  Watch this space for a report on how I do with the kettebell swing/burpee personal challenge.  I'll be ripped in no time, right dear reader? :)  That's OK, don't answer, I'll be very happy with a little more energy and less of me altogether.

11.11.11

An auspicious day.  My older two children both reported loud cafeteria countdowns to the moment of eleventh hour, eleventh minute, eleventh day of the eleventh month of the eleventh year of the second millenium, and  much cheering and laughter and wishes sent out the moment it came.

How did you view this day?  Was it the same as any other?  Did it speak to you, as it did to a acquaintance of mine on Facebook, of oneness?  Did you send a prayer up for that deep, missing wish of your heart?

It's interesting to ponder how we came to be at this time, for these days--how the Master Plan all fits together. Somehow today for me was a time of introspection, and a time to reassess goals and priorities.  Where I am in the journey and what direction I'm headed.

Blessings to you on your journey, dear reader, and if you made a wish, may it come true.

Merry Maids and Young Thespians...

It was a fall cleaning kind of day today.  Emmett was an excellent helper!  For a good while he stayed engaged in the tasks, helping me scrub floors, clean windows, put away toys and various sundries, and the while I heard his happy chorus of, "Guess what, Mommy!!" and got precious glimpses into how his mind works.

We put his train table back to rights, got a snazzy track formation going and found lots of engines and cars, and he played there for at least an hour.  Things were flying and I'm sorry to report there were many grave accidents.

A productive day spent with my youngest son was followed by a very entertaining evening provided by my older son and his fellow cast and crew members, as they held opening night of "30 Reasons Not to Be in a Play".  Deven had three parts and he did very well.  All the students gave such excellent performances, it was hard at times to remember they were middle schoolers.  The crowd was LOLing, sincerely and a lot.  There were a few times Elli elbowed me to reign in my mirth.  Teenage girls are particularly well suited to remind one of proper etiquette.

Deven and cast, during the performance while Deven's role was passive.  We tried to get him during
his speaking parts but his motion was too dramatic to capture without flash photography.

Wednesday, Chemo Day

Wednesdays are the days I bring my dad in for his chemotherapy.  I need to make sure Emmett and I get ready along with Clarabelle, and a few minutes after she heads out for her school day, we head out to pick Grandpa up from the care facility.  I have to make sure I pack some things to keep the 4 year old occupied so I can be eyes and ears for Grandpa when the nurses question him and the doctor gives us an update.  Thankfully the Cancer Center has cookies or graham crackers available usually, so that's enough of a treat to keep the little one happy.  Sometimes Grandpa even enjoys those too.

Today marked the beginning of Round 4, so we met with his doctor and she got a handle on how Dad felt off treatment for 2 weeks, what his symptoms are, whether he can continue to tolerate the dosage she has prescribed, and so on.  At the end of this round, he'll be scanned again and we can see how his body is responding.  So far so good, the therapy has been more effective than we dared hope for at the beginning.

Hope.  That is something a terminal illness makes you examine.  Can you hope to get better?  If the end of days is in sight, what hope remains?  Up' til that point, if you believe in God and life after death, those things may or may not feel vital to your well being or of utmost importance on a daily basis.  Times like these bring them fully into the spectrum of what is real and vital.

Besides those loftier unknowns, from a physical standpoint, just enduring the illness and the effects of the treatment can make it a challenge just to get up and dress for the day.  As the daughter to one experiencing this, it's wearing emotionally.  It's been hard for me to accept the terminal part of his diagnosis, and words like 'palliation; and extending life.  At the beginning I really wanted there to be a fix, for us to just be able to work hard, research enough, change his diet, have aggressive therapy, and beat it.  Now I have learned to accept what he is going through and how it is for him.

But it is still draining emotionally to see him weakened, easily confused, worn out, sick.  I am glad I can support him, glad he is still with us.  It is hard when you want to make something better, and simply can't.

Hair Stylings

Last night, Clarabelle asked me to put curlers in her hair.  It's a lost art, that.  I remember my Mom setting (and teasing) her hair to get ready for church every week.  I have many school photos that bear evidence of the use of curlers.  (And, might I ask modestly, wasn't I a cutie? ;)  


When I was in junior high and high school, the glorious late 80s, we used the perm, curling iron, blow dryers and hairspray to achieve monumental proportions.  I wonder if our ways of grooming seemed strange to my Mom, though she was no stranger to hairspray, about a half a can of AquaNet was required for her beautiful bouffant.


Nowadays (and yes, I hear the old timer in me speaking here), girls go au naturel, growing their bangs out and letting their hair be as it is.  I follow suit, and I like it a lot better than standing in front of mirror for a half hour beating thick, coarse hair into submission.  


But it was fun connecting to the generations that have gone before, and trussing Clara up with rollers before bed last night.  The results this morning were pretty adorable too.  Her siblings remarked, 'You look like Shirley Temple.'  I say even cuter.  Don't you agree, dear reader? 

Time Shifts

Daylight Savings Time is an odd thing.  Going this direction, I really feel like life clicks back into place.  Mornings are easier, it feels like I can get more accomplished in the day, and come evening time, I experience several waves of  relief when I look at the clock and see I have an hour more than I thought I did before it's time to lay me down to sleep.

When it goes the other way and we lose an hour, it takes quite a while to catch up.  It's usually sleep that gets forfeited, and our body clocks are set later so it's harder to get moving in the morning.  I think it lasts all the way until we get that hour back!  I would like us just to leave it like this, please?  I'll deal with darker mornings, it will be just fine with me.