Stargazer

36 years

I wish you could see all the small satiny buttons down the back of my (free) wedding dress, or that my late husband's much hated tux, which looks brown, was actually a burgundy purple. The dress was my dream because of those buttons, and was a hand-me-down from my girlfriend's sister. Unfortunately, her sister was very tiny, thus the dress was a size 2, when I am normally a size 4. So, I had to make sure not to pop those buttons which meant an unusual circumstance: watching what I ate. Once we were safely married, I devoured everything in sight! 

36 years later I'm in a whole different place, and living a life I never imagined. I've been working on my 2021 New Year's Cards, which I do instead of Xmas ones. Choosing my photos and writing briefly about 2020 was a challenge. I was determined not to mention the words pandemic, isolation or politics. Instead, I focused on what was right about this year. 

This little guy is a treasure! Grandson and Ziggy seem to be getting very interested in one another. :)

In more good news, I managed to give away two of my three old chandeliers, one to a woman I know, whose two brilliant daughters were in my class. She left a kind note and treats on my porch. A couple of friends invited me to a car coffee date, and brought me a package of Hot Chocolate Bombs. It was an excellent and distracting way to spend the morning of my anniversary. I was too busy for tears. 

Taking a walk while someone is getting their septic system worked on is a sure fire way to know that you don't have Covid 19. My sense of smell is TOO acute. Speaking of sh*t, I did talk to my parents about Xmas. I'll bring down cookies for them and gifts early in the day, but won't stay. My brother's family isn't in my/our bubble, thus I was shocked that my sister-in-law told Older Daughter that it was Christmas Eve as normal. My parents weren't even aware that they were hosting dinner! Also, my daughters and I did a lot last Christmas to help out; I'm doubtful that the 92 year old who can barely walk and the 88 year old with the bad back and knee can manage a Christmas Eve meal by themselves. wrings hands I brought up the number of cases in our area lately too and discouraged them from having anyone over for dinner. Perhaps a masked and distanced get together to open presents? Being tactful, I told them that the girls and I are doing a Zoom Christmas, and playing on-line games together. (true, but somewhat exaggerated) We've always been a big board game family; at every holiday, you'll find us sitting on the carpeted family room floor playing games. Doing so on the internet while thousands of miles apart won't be the same, but it's the best we can manage. Being tactless, I mentioned to my parents that I sure as heck didn't cancel my trip to New York so that I could catch Covid 19 here. I bit my tongue though and didn't complain about sister-in-law's Facebook; it's very clear from pictures that they're having MANY unmasked people in their house, and not following safety protocols at all. As I told Older Daughter, I've made my opinions and my own boundaries clear, but can't dictate what other adults choose to do. I WISH I COULD. 

36 years ago I didn't imagine this at all. It may sound strange, but I'm genuinely sorry that he's missing out on the pandemic. In his staining, painting and sanding work, he always wore masks. He would have loved the opportunity to wear one everywhere; he appreciated anonymity and distance. He despised social chit chat, and was extremely introverted. His "Do I look like a people person?" tee-shirt captured him perfectly. Yet he was also a family person who was fiercely loyal to us and devoted to his small group of friends and loved ones. As the saying goes, in our relationship the days were long, but the years were short. Sadly.  

(Not) Flying on a Jet Plane

At 7:35 this morning, Alaska Airlines 8 took off from SeaTac, bound for Newark. I'm not on that flight as I expected and desperately wanted to be. I won't get to see Grandson's first tooth in person. My daughter and I won't be baking our traditional sugar cookies together, hers frosted professionally and mine more like a 5 year old's. I won't be bundled up against the frigid New York weather or go for a walk in their upcoming snow. When I expressed my feelings on Facebook, I was somewhat chastised with "My son can't spend Christmas Eve with his fiancee because they both have to work as EMTs" or "Many people aren't able to see their loved ones this holiday season" or "We've all had setbacks this year." What the insert several bad words?! For crying out loud, I don't need ANYONE to state the obvious. This isn't a misery competition. I'm entitled to a small pity party; they don't generally last long, and are an important step in my personal grief process. The best responses were empathetic and simple. Like "I'm sorry." Although I've always considered myself a true people person, this pandemic and many of the reactions to it have made me much less enamored of the human race. 

To offset my downer mood, I put out my favorite holiday place mats. I FaceTimed with older daughter and Grandson, who is trying hard to crawl. His smiles at my funny faces were a day brightener. I texted with younger daughter about being a bit depressed about circumstances, and she gave me her usual tough love pep talk. 

The moose farts were easy and delicious, but only if you like Mounds bars. Which I do, since I love the combination of coconut and semi-sweet chocolate. Even after the required one hour in the refrigerator, the dough was extremely sticky; I should've had John take a photo of my hands after I had finished rolling the "farts" in the graham cracker crumbs! He prefers Nanaimo bars (so do I) but these are much less time consuming or fiddly. I also had the dreaded talk with my parents about Christmas. It was a natural segue when my dad questioned if they should try to put up the tree if no one is coming. I suggested that we could get together masked and distanced to open gifts, without our normal Christmas dinner. I'm in my parents' bubble, but my brother and his family aren't in theirs or in mine. I could tell that my mom wasn't on board with any changes to our non-pandemic traditions. I'll have to hope that my Trumper brother will be more reasonable.:(

Thankfully, John knows how to prepare perfect comfort food. I eat beef rarely, but enjoy roast from time to time, especially with cooked veggies. And a couple of moose farts for dessert satisfied my sweet tooth and somewhat sweetened my mood. I did have a few weepy moments on John's shoulder later though...

 

Wintry

For the PacNW, waking up to 30s and ice means fall is gone, even though it's technically not yet winter. 

I was entranced by the icy designs on my deck table, as I sat in my 70 degree house, sipping a hot mocha.

I waited several hours to run, thinking that the ice would have melted, but ended up shuffling along on the grass or gravel. The first time my shoes slid, I thought it was my imagination. By the third time, I was just hoping to get back home without a broken body part!

On my walk I saw these C-17s flying into McChord AFB. Cold days often mean beautiful blue sky and sun. That's the trade off. 

This house used to have three big Trump banners on the front of it; now they're gone, and there's a small rainbow flag. Hmmm.

In my continuing house improvement saga, I've gone from this light fixture to...

this more modern one. I love its clean and classy lines! I felt like I was in a Red Robin whenever I looked at the old one. I'm very thankful to John for the installation. He charged me dinner and dessert for the job, which he made look very easy, as usual. For an added gift, I'm making him moose farts today. :) 

Skirts are finished and caulked, and will get painted later this week when my painter is free. By the way, those curved walls were a real pain in the you know where. Carpenter Mike did the best he could while I did a lot of hand wringing.  

The upstairs flooring(manufactured Brazilian cherry) is here and seasoning for three days in my bonus room. It's a bit of a disappointment that it's so uniform, unlike my entry way kempas OR the "Picture It" photo of this wood on the company website. I'm sure most people prefer consistency of color, so I must be more of a random person. By the way, I've chosen #1 and thank you all for your input. It really helped with the decision. 

There was evidently only one creepy Santa in town since my local friends have pictures just like this. My late brother doesn't seem happy, but I look oblivious. I still haven't discussed Christmas with my parents. I'm also starting to feel a little guilty about not decorating. Tomorrow I would have flown to New York to spend the holiday with my daughter, son-in-law, and 6 month old grandson. The day after that would have been my 36th wedding anniversary. How will I deal with the emotions? Even I'm not sure. But it's a lot to carry. It feels heavy. 

 

Imagine

I have no gift for picturing how things would look best, color or style wise. Or perhaps I merely have no confidence in myself? In the past few months, I've chosen three chandeliers, paint and trim colors for the inside and outside, and now am deciding how the manufactured hardwood should run. My carpenter says that technically, it should be perpendicular to the joists; however, since it's a a floating floor(unlike my real hardwood entry way which is nailed), it's not as critical. Luckily, Lumber Liquidators has a nifty app where you can insert various colors of hardwood into a photo of your area. What I didn't realize was that it could swap directions! So...

1-This way (lengthwise) goes the opposite direction to the downstairs and isn't perpendicular to the joists. A better look for the hallway though?

2-This direction matches the downstairs entry and looks fine in the small landing by my bedroom door. I don't think it's awful, but I'm not sure that I like the hallway. HELP!!

Now, imagine the skirt boards caulked and painted with new carpet on the stairs. The half wall caps will be painted to match, and the stairway paint touched up where it's been scraped. :( What's that saying--"you can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs?" I'm trying to envision how it will all fit together, but can't quite manage it. I would be grateful if the carpet people ever called me back! The stairs could be bare for a long time. Sigh. There was definitely a reason why my late husband waited until I was gone on a trip or away from home to do major projects. I'm way better than I was with the chaos and the mess, but at this stage, I just want it ALL DONE. 

My house panther has always liked to drink running water out of the kitchen sink. I thought I could train her not to(HAHA!) by putting water in a dish or by buying a cat fountain, both of which she mostly ignores. She is quite devilish when she's drinking, isn't she?

The minute I leave the recliner, Mari takes over my spot, and curls herself into a ball. Can you see her sparkly gold claw? I laughed so hard when someone asked me on Facebook whether I painted her nails. Because WHY would I do that? Although I try to keep the nail caps on her, she still manages to scratch on the furniture sometimes. She spends her nights in her Cat Jail Room, isn't allowed in my bedroom, and I keep all the other bedrooms and bathrooms closed too. I'll let you imagine the mess in the downstairs bathroom when I left the door open; Mari frolicked with the toilet paper roll, and destroyed most of it. There were shreds of it all over the floor! I sure don't want that happening during this pandemic. 

There will be a time when I can finally get my hair trimmed, thus I'm working at visualizing what I want. It won't be this mushroom. I doubt that it'll be as dark a color. There will be layers because I prefer a sculpted look. I'm hoping to get the vaccine this spring, not because of my coronavirus coiffure, but mainly to travel. However, I'm terribly concerned about how many are against inoculations, which could prevent us getting to the 70% we need for herd immunity. I'm fighting frustration with the anti-science, conspiracy theory and ultra right wing crowd who could ensure that Covid 19 will turn into Covid 20-21-22, etc. They want to refuse to wear masks, to assert their rights to bars, big gatherings, stupidity and church, to ignore the vaccine, and to take their chances with the virus. Perhaps they can simply stay in their own cities and states though? Then the rest of us can get back to a reasonably "normal" life, including our beleaguered health care workers. *Margaret climbs down off her soap box*

Unsettled

The ending of another year is the traditional time to reflect on these past 12 months, and 2020 has made me think too much about 2012. Dealing with cancer and then the loss of a spouse around the holidays created such a mix of feelings. When I was going through it, I remember thinking that surely I deserved a free pass from other issues. Instead I had car troubles, parental health concerns, arguments with my late husband's family about his medical treatment, and concerns about my daughters, one trying to complete her B.S. in Mathematics and the other in her first year of a PhD program. Since I was still teaching, I also had to handle the occasional misbehavior by my students, as well as mentor a couple of incompetent/annoying teachers in my role as department chair.  Regular life (with its ups and downs) went on, as it does in 2020. There is no "pass" just because we're trying to outlast a pandemic. A close friend's wife is having heart issues, and will need open heart surgery, which her cardiologist says is "iffy." My dad's health is fragile. My girls are dealing with expensive pet ailments, crippling anxiety, job insecurity, and what is perhaps hardest for me, distance from their mother. The feeling of helplessness definitely reminds me of 2012. I can only watch from afar, counsel via text, and connect on FaceTime. There are no hugs, no conversations over a morning coffee and no late night weep fests. And before anyone tells me that "worrying won't change the outcome" or "worry is a waste of time," I KNOW. I refuse to worry about my propensity to worry, especially since it's actually a sign of intelligence. I do wish I were dumber and more of a Pollyanna at times though. 

At least I have lots of toilet paper. No concerns there! It's sort of like the Three Bears--the gigantic rolls, the medium size ones and the tiny ones that only last for about 2 days. It seems like a waste of energy to even install it in the toilet paper dispenser. 

When I envisioned the improvements getting done on my house, I didn't imagine skirt board material lying in my living room...

or my stair case bare of carpet. Noisy to walk on, especially for the cat. :)

Mari is terrified and disgruntled most of the time. She thought that the nightmare was over once the painters were finished. She does like Mike (the carpenter) who has many cats of his own, but dislikes the sound of sawing and vacuuming. 

Thankfully, the foot tweak was only that, a day of discomfort but now back to normal running and walking. It's tedious, but comforting to hang on to the mundane yet important routines of my daily life. Including worrying about those I care about. 

 

 

Oh, bother

Although I did very well in school and most people consider me intelligent, I'm not too sure about that right now. For a smart person, I've been awfully dumb. Today I seemed to move from one blunder to the next... 

• Duck boot Dumbness: Because of the inclement weather, I got the not so bright idea to wear my new rain shoes on my walk. They were supposed to be for New York, I paid quite a bit for them, and the weather was perfect to try them out. Unfortunately, duck boots aren't walking shoes like my Keens. That was evident about a mile in when the unsupported arches of my feet started protesting.
• Medication Mistake: When I first looked at the instructions for my Augmentin several days ago, I decided that I would take the medication about 3 o'clock every day. But there are still so many pills left!  I re-read the directions, and they actually say "one pill every 12 hours." How many hours are in a day, Margaret? How many pills per day should I have been taking? eye roll
• Styrofoam Stupidity: I assumed it would be easy to recycle it; unfortunately, it's nearly impossible, especially during a pandemic. Thus, I figured that I could break down the blocks inside bags, then gradually add it to my garbage can. At first I thought I should run over the bag with my car, but if the bag broke, it would be Styrofoam H*ll. So, I very, very stupidly decided to jump on the bag. Wearing flip flops. I was only a couple jumps in when I lost my balance and fell off, tweaking my ankle in the process. I prefer to believe that a particularly malevolent block of styrofoam threw me off onto the concrete floor of my garage.  
• Baking show Blunder: Since I've finished most of the Great Baking Shows that I can access, I branched into "Sugar Rush" for one painful episode. The people are arrogant and sometimes mean, the contestants are only after the $10,000 prize, baking prowess isn't highlighted and the premise is incredibly gimmicky. Tonight I gave "Zumbo's Just Desserts" a try. It's not as terrible, but I need to find a different type of mindless television. John and I just finished "The Queen's Gambit" and really enjoyed that. We're now watching "The Kaminsky Method" which has been entertaining so far. I love Alan Arkin! 
• Is 7 o'clock too early to go to bed? 

Transformation

 

When I spotted my kitchen light in a Red Robin a decade or so ago, I realized that it was way past time to change it. But I hadn't met John yet, so I felt overwhelmed by the process of choosing a different fixture and by figuring out how to get it installed. John is always eager to help me out and do things for me--which I've finally learned to accept gracefully. "Acts of service" seem to be his language of affection whereas mine is words of affirmation. Unfortunately, my three major relationships have been with men who didn't (and don't) communicate their feelings very openly. In the past I would have tried to get my partners to say those all-important three words, but I find them less important now. Am I more realistic in my expectations of others or have I simply become much less romantic?

My new pendant chandelier resembles an alien spaceship, but will be a lovely change to my kitchen. Hopefully, it'll look much better than this once it's put together! John usually charges me "dinner" so I better figure out the menu. ;)

This morning an acrobatic squirrel decided that John's bird feeder was part of his breakfast. S/He's a well-fed rodent, isn't s/he?

My sweet Mari turns into a loaf cat when she's very comfortable and unthreatened. She loves to sit on the back of the recliner, and sometimes grooms my hair when I'm sitting there. Even my kitty realizes that my hair desperately needs some TLC! By the way, the rumor is that a "relative" of Mari's (a black rescue cat) will be joining the Bidens in the White House. Can you tell how excited she is?

The weather was surprisingly decent this afternoon; although most people probably consider this a cloudy day, if there is any blue sky, Washingtonians celebrate. Especially in December. 

This will be my Little Guy's first Christmas, and his fascination with everything is wondrous to me. I last saw him in person when he was two months old, an adorable sleepy infant who was just starting to smile and coo. Now, at six months, he's been transformed into an active, engaged and very charming baby. Sadly, I have to love and admire him from 2,800 miles away; that's sometimes almost more than I can bear. Those of us who are being careful with this pandemic are all sacrificing so much, aren't we? :(

  

Reflective

This picture within a picture at Reflection Lake a few years ago came up in my Facebook memories; John was taking a picture of me taking a picture of the lake and Mount Rainier. :) This was when John and I used to do more hiking. Although I've continued my walking and running, he's become a bit too sedentary and obsessed with the Mandalorian and Star Wars, as well as most YouTube and "how to..." videos. He's a wonderful guy, but we are certainly different people and could probably never cohabitate. Our relationship is called "living apart together," and I think it's working well...for now.

I've been meaning to make this goodie box for a long time, and finally got around to it. Lest you think I'm 100% altruistic, I absolutely hate La Croix (or any sparkling water) and need to get rid of it. The Twix are left over from Halloween; I think they taste like dusty wafer and weak caramel encased in waxy tasting "chocolate." I bought the crackers for my now non-existent Christmas trip as snacks for my Airbnb quarantine. HA, as I was typing this, the doorbell rang and when I went to get my package, the driver had taken a nasty water La Croix and a package of crackers! Note: my third and final chandelier has arrived!

Although I'm still admiring the view of the new paint and the 9-light chandelier from my stairs, I DON'T love seeing the dust on the top of that blind--yet another project to figure out. I have a multitude of ladders in many different sizes, but no head for heights. Speaking of impressive, my older daughter's article about Christmas, Covid 19, and the death of her dad made me quite weepy. 'Tis the season, yet the reality is that it's not always a jolly time of year for many of us.

 

The Un-Christmas

Eight years ago today, my husband died of cancer in our family room after two years of up and down hopes, extreme hell and many revelations. A bit like what's happening in 2020, I/we discovered things about people that we'd never suspected; there were family and friends who were there for us in big and small ways, and others who made our journey even more miserable. In 2013, I decided to make this day more about his life than his death. He would never want to be remembered for his last six months on earth which were often frightening and painful. So, today in his memory, I donated to our very needy local food bank instead of taking flowers to the cemetery. He would often mention that how we treat our loved ones when they're alive is much more important than the gestures we make once they're gone. (tell that to his idiotic older brother who cried crocodile tears at his memorial service!) He also made it clear that if I decorated his grave, it would be for myself and not for him. "I'll be dead, what will I care?" Dying people are allowed to use a lot of black humor, and he did. In early December when he went into Hospice, I dyed his morphine red and green as a festive touch. It would have made him laugh sarcastically if he had been conscious. 

Although there will be no tree or snow globes, I couldn't deprive Mari of her own special Grumpy Cat decoration. To be fair though, she's not really grouchy unless someone else is in HER house, besides me. :)

In 2019, both daughters, one boyfriend and one husband were here to make cookies, play board games and make merry with the family. My sister-in-law's widowed sister and her two daughters visited from Nebraska and ended up at my parents' for Christmas Eve. My grandson was that bump in Ashley's sweater! My dad was walking well and feeling great, which has unfortunately changed. Now we're in a different world, and I'm trying to adapt to that without bitterness or anguish. Today hasn't been that day. On the positive side, the weather has been beautifully clear, so I made the most of it with a run and a long walk. I also dressed up in a ramshackle version of a hazmat suit to wrangle all that Styrofoam from the new chandeliers into garbage bags so I can transport it to a recycler. I consider Styrofoam the very ugly stepsister of glitter!

"I give you this one thought to keep.
I am with you still. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not think of me as gone.
I am with you still in each new dawn."
~ Native American Poem

Small celebrations

Some(many?) of you, including John, have been waiting for me to come to my senses and cancel my trip. I'm sure that others would have preferred me to forge ahead in spite of the terrifying statistics, and beat the risk of the coronavirus. I appreciate you all: your encouragement, your tact, and even your silence. The fact is that I'm not a gambler. So, I'm staying out of the airports, the planes and the Ubers; it felt like the end of the world Tuesday, so when John suggested a get together, I told him that my emotions were too bruised. Thankfully, I found small ways to comfort myself. 

 I put out a couple of Christmas towels.

I opened up one of my new hand soaps, which smells like a lemony fir tree. :)

I replaced "Pumpkin Roll" with "Silver Bells," my favorite holiday scent. (I would burn candles and used to, but now...CAT) I'm not sure how to identify its clean, fresh scent, and thought the Scentsy website might help. Instead it made me laugh! "Minty candy canes dance over warm and welcoming pear, all enveloped in a velvety blanket of caramel and vanilla sugar." Perhaps I should apply for a job writing these descriptions? I couldn't do any worse! :)

Yesterday John came over for dinner, and insisted that he was perfectly capable and eager to swap out my '80s light fixtures for my more modern chandeliers. Indeed, he made everything look SO easy. Plus, he's very neat, careful and not afraid of heights. 

The 5 light dining room fixture is simple, and exactly what I wanted. 

I didn't care for the "Big Pineapple" when I moved in here 24 years ago, although I've never had to replace a bulb in it. Brass and glass were the height of fashion back then, but I've been ready to get rid of it for at least 20 10 years. 

Since I'm scared of heights, I was very nervous about this procedure. Not John. 

Here's the 9 light, 2 tier version of the dining room chandelier, with its ideal dimensions for my entry. I worried so much about sizes, needlessly as it turns out. I'm very satisfied with both fixtures! 

Poor John needed sunglasses when I turned on the nine 100 watt bulbs though. He's a good sport!

Next on my agenda: white stair skirt boards, new carpet up the stairs(still haven't heard anything from the people I contacted) and manufactured hardwood in my upstairs hallway. Then I'm finished...for now.  It seems like the more I look around, the more I see that should get updated! As I told my parents, many people re-do their houses in preparation to sell, but I'm making improvements so that I can enjoy them personally. I periodically go into each room to marvel at the chandeliers, turning them on, and playing with the dining room dimmer switch like a 3 year old. It's my first one! I still walk around the house to admire the fresh paint and the neatness of everything. Next dilemma: what to plan/not plan for Christmas that won't anger my family, endanger them or make me a pariah. Xmas 2020, the gift that just keeps on giving.