Give Up the Fight? NEVER!

Dear Sparrow:

I’m alive and well and I'm slowly entering the world again in good old Red Bird style. Actually, I seem to have a bit of a new style, lately.  My usual raging and kicking has become more of a quiet revolution, a continuous internal dialogue, but I think quiet is better than nothing, don’t you? At least for now.

I’ve been using my time to get my life in order, shore up my spirit, shake a cold, and make my new life “mine”. I've only been hibernating from the blog for 3 weeks now, but, really, in my day to day life, I've been in shut down mode for a while. I've stepped away, more and more, from my usual existence but that doesn't mean I'm out of the game. Instead, I've just been more peaceful. I've:

Sat quietly with music

Enjoyed good books

Went on coffee dates with important people in my life (looking at you in specific, Ms. KV, you who warm my heart)

Had a little romantic “ouchie” that threw me for a bit but that I am now learning to walk away from

Made a new “friend” whom I took a chance on and is turning out to be a lovely person…

Hugged my daughters; tightly

Cleaned my house from top to bottom

Had an incredible weekend visit with family and new friends that left me feeling loved and relaxed

And, importantly, I napped; a lot.

Beautiful naps.

Delicious naps.

Naps with attitude.

I feel myself coming out of hibernation, Sparrow, though every now and then I feel more like a groundhog that sticks its head out of the burrow, discovers it is still winter, and shoots back down into the warmth again. For a change, I’m patient with this feeling. 

This year has made me a different person but in a positive way. I’m becoming, as I said, a more quiet person, a more gentle person, someone who is happiest with a hot drink and a friend. I listen more closely to the words of others. I assess these words and take them for what they are without my own value judgements clouding and colouring the meanings, a habit that started from having to pay such close attention to every word, verbal and non, coming out of Fledgling. If I hadn’t “hibernated”, I wouldn’t have realized these changes in me. I welcome them. They’re comforting changes.

Oh, I’m still me. You, Sparrow, will still get emails with details of a crazy life of meeting new people and going on new adventures. I will probably be more cautious now, that's all. I will be more careful with my heart, that’s for sure, but not too careful; where’s the fun in that? I always plan on being the woman who impulsively dances to The Clash and sings at the top of her lungs in the car. I will always see the truth in this poem:

Prayer

May I never not be frisky, May I never not be risque.
May my ashes, when you have them, friend, and give them to the ocean,
leap in the froth of the waves, still loving movement,
still ready, beyond all else, to dance for the world

Mary Oliver

I just might leave "danc[ing] for the world" for another day. Today, I dance quietly for me.

Thank you for being in my life, beautiful friend, and thank you for being on my journey, as whiny and cranky as I am at times.

Love Always,

An almost herself again, and a ready to write again, Red Bird <3

 

Meet Dave

 Dearest Birdie

Dave the de-humidifier is our new best friend. No longer do we wake up with our windows dripping in moisture, the furniture doesn't have that damp feel and my clothes smell normal again. Dave runs all night long sucking up the moisture and leaves our little home dry and warm. I LOVE DAVE! It's shocking however how much water his little bucket contains every morning and the husband posed an interesting question. Where does all that moisture go in a house normally? How much is to much and are we sucking ourselves dry? I have visions of us waking up one morning and everything has shrunk down like those vacuum bags for storing clothes. The three of us looking like the giant chilian raisins I just bought! I'm now paranoid that the boy is getting enough to drink and every hour I thrust glasses of water at him. We're heading for one of two extremes, severe dehydration or death by drowning! Ah well, it's all an adventure!

Always yours
Sparrow

Managing Expectations

Dear Red Bird

Yesterday the boy and I had a little disagreement. It was more me than him, poor lad, he really didn't see it coming! I find myself getting frustrated every now and then with his literal thinking and the barrier it puts between him and casual conversation, focusing on the big picture when doing school work and managing his expectation when we head out to new experiences. Yesterday I kind of snapped at the effort of having to re-explain myself a thousand times because the language I used wasn't exactly right. I found myself begging him to just stop already. Quit it, it doesn't matter which word I use, you know what I mean. Of course he didn't and never will. He can't just stop, his brain doesn't function that way. Having a child on the autism spectrum in a whole mighty lesson in patience and backing up when you loose your cool. It doesn't take more than the confused look on his face to snap me back to reality and apologies. Take a deep breath and try again, hopefully with the right combination of words this time.
His literal perception of the world can interfere when heading out for dinner or at special events, like Christmas and Birthdays. His autism prevents him from using past experiences to know what to expect and each new outing really is a new outing. Anxiety then kicks in as it would for any of us when faced with an unknown where there is potential for performance failure. A coping mechanism is to research the event and spend weeks asking questions about what's going to happen, where we are going, who's going to be there, what's it like, how many people, will he have to do this, will he have to do that, will other people talk to him, what should he say, what if he says the wrong thing, what if he sits at the wrong spot. If he's really excited about it, like a birthday or Christmas, he will have planned it all out in his mind from how he's going to walk into the room to how he's going to unwrap his gifts, from the order in who they were gifted from, to the time at which each gift will be opened. This sadly often leads to special events taking a turn for the worst as life is unpredictable and going off the timetable is too stress inducing for him to be able to handle.
I understand why he likes to spend time alone in his room, there are no unknowns, he has his routine. A particular time of day to watch his You Tube updates, a time to write programs, a time to listen to his podcasts, a time to eat apples (we spend more money on apples each week than anything else! I'm just glad it's not junk) But life is more than just his bedroom so we will continue to have our little disagreements as I say things the wrong way and interfere with his schedule and force him out into the big wide world. I just wish he wouldn't look at me with that heart melting face of his. Big deep breath, Sparrow, big deep breath.

I'm a Little OCD About That...

Dear Readers,

As you know, Am I Lost is a blog about beginnings, endings, and all the happiness and laughter, sadness and tears, and every emotion in between that two women can feel when their lives have been turned upside down.  It’s a blog about the struggle to get from point A to point B with all of the pitfalls that life throws in the way and, while it might meander at times and get lost in the whims of what we, the authors, have had on our minds on any particular day, we hope the message is always, “get off of your ass and get on your journey to becoming “you” before it’s too late”. Okay, that might be a simplified message but you get the drift…

The feedback that we’ve received so far has been positive and uplifting. You guys are laughing with us, crying with us but, mostly, you’re cheering us on. What is most heartwarming, is the personal connection that a lot of you are making with our stories.  It’s important, isn’t it, to be able to connect with a story, to recognize yourself and to know you’re not alone. We human beings, we need to belong, to have an identity, to know we’re not alone and, if reading our entries can give this sense of belonging to even one person, then we couldn’t ask for more.

There is one theme in particular that most of our readers have connected with and that’s the issue of mental health. We are proud mental health advocates as we struggle to bring our children through life with their various issues, struggles and labels. What we have discovered, in our attempts to bring our children through some pretty dark and trying times is that mental health should not be buried under a blanket of secrecy. Rather, it needs to be front and centre and part of a continuous dialogue to help eradicate ignorance and social stigma.

Having said all of that, we would like to share with you a “Guest Blog Entry”. A dear friend of this blog has so bravely come forward with a story of her own issues that inspired much thought and it moved us deeply that she would share. Moreover, this entry brings to light an important issue…just how funny is it to make light of mental health?

With deep appreciation for her courage,
Birdie and Sparrow

I Am a Little OCD About That...

We have all said it at some point in our lives:  “I am a little OCD when it comes to cleaning”, or “Please don’t move my plates, I am a little OCD about where they go”, but have you ever stopped to think about what having OCD is really like?

I can remember having obsessions from around the age of six but at age 12, around the time of puberty, my OCD got so bad I was slamming my fingers in my bedroom door as a physical reminder that the door was closed. You see, the monster inside my brain had convinced me that if the door was left open then something terrible would happen to a loved one. I would spend hours each day picking small pieces of lint out of carpets and the couch and washing my hands until they bled in order to avoid “contaminating” my family.

I remember running to my mother in tears screaming “something is wrong with me! I can’t stop slamming my fingers in the door!” Now that I am a mother myself, I can’t imagine how terrifying this must have been for her.

For years I hid my obsessions from others, making excuses to leave the room so I could perform my rituals in private. However, in the past few years, I have decided to stop being ashamed of my mental illness and to use it as a tool to spread awareness. When we imagine someone with a mental illness we get a sense of fear and misunderstanding. My goal is to show you that we are just like everyone else. We are mothers, daughters, wives and sisters.

Today I no longer slam my fingers in my bedroom door but I bet I have the cleanest hands in all of Ontario!

So the next time you want to say “ I am a little OCD about that” stop and think about those who live their lives with this disorder and instead say “please don’t move my plates, I am a total asshole when it comes to that!”

Doh!

I smell old! I smell musty, like death and basements and the tightly shut up home of an elderly couple desperate to keep the small amount of heat they can afford to generate within the four walls of their tried home.  The damp had spread and I have a feeling of despair as my closet revealed it's who knows how old secret of wet walls and old smelling clothes. The closet is tiny and holds a few shirts and jackets that I haven't had a need for the last few days and now I have a new problem besides the windows. We open our roof vents every day and windows too, but did not think to open the closet doors daily too. Who would? We are looking for a small dehumidifier to help in this battle of the mold and in the mean time small bags of baking soda are hung in the closets and by the windows. I am seriously contemplating buying a bag of kitty litter or failing that a house!

Never without my baking soda, cleans burnt on food, a friend when I bake 

and now found in my closet too!

I know, what a loser, only four months of RV living and with one little problem  I am jumping ship. I'm happy in the RV really, but three days of headaches, a scratchy throat and well, smelling old has me a little down. It will pass, there is a solution out there, I mean how else can all these other people here do this full time? We are three full grown humans however in 300sq ft (I actually think it's less than that). I've never been more aware of the air I breath or rather breath out and it's affects on my environment. I can no longer drink my million cups of tea every day, the kettle now an enemy of our health and home. Washing up after every meal may have to become washing up once a day and baking on a whim must now be planned baking, only undertaken at the warmest time of day so doors and windows can be thrown open. I'm exaggerating of course, tomorrow we will buy a dehumidifier and all this will be solved (oh dear god, let it be solved) and I will no longer smell of death. What a journey this is, the things we are learning. In the mean time I will throw caution to the wind and bake a cake. Not any old cake however, on a day like today, it must be a cake that offers all the comfort a cake possibly can. This cake takes me back to summers on the beach in France where we eagerly awaited the shouted sound of 'beignet' drifting down the beach as the locals  hawked their hot and fresh apricot filled doughnuts. It takes me back to my childhood home as my mother, who if you haven't figured out by now is a fan and master baker of all things cake, would indulge in sugar coated doughnuts, red jam dripping down her chin and a look of shear pleasure on her face. This my friends is a doughnut cake and is just what the doctor ordered.

Doughnut Cake with Blueberry Compote and thick Greek Yoghurt

(I see I may need to work on my styling and photography skills!)

I adapted this recipe from here http://www.thewednesdaychef.com/the_wednesday_chef/2012/04/catherine-newmans-donut-cake.html, substituting light spelt flour for the regular AP and ground almonds for the cornmeal, only because I didn't have any. Oh and I reduced the amount of sugar too, I never use the full amount most recipes call for, you can usually reduce the sugar by up to 50% and still get the same results.

This is rapidly becoming a cooking blog, but I write what I know and cooking is part of my journey as I adapt to my tiny kitchen. What I am learning is I have a very hot oven, I think the temperature dial is just a suggestion of the actual heat it generates, and the limitations of my reduced pantry challenge me to be more creative and adventurous with what I have.
Always Yours
Sparrow

Yoghurt Fail!

As you know I love good food. Not any food, but food whose sole purpose is to nourish my body, not fill with it with empty calories. My morning starts with homemade sprouted muesli full of oats, non-sulphured apricots, raisins, an assortment of nuts and seeds topped with either natural yoghurt or milk. Washed down with peppermint tea to aid digestion. My pantry is full with every type of lentil, seed, nut and grain. There is more yoghurt in my fridge than in a grocery store and I have yet to find a fridge that can hold all the fresh fruit and veg we go through on a daily basis. That's not to say we don't indulge too. My day is rounded off with a thick piece of dark Belgium chocolate which is slowly nibble while watching Breaking Bad. Bryan Cranston you are an acting god! So you can imagine, (plus the fact I may have already mentioned),that I love cookbooks, food blogs and food books. The trouble is sometimes my food dreams come crashing down around me and make me feel like I should have been smarter when a recipe is so obviously not all it's touting itself to be.

Sweet potatoes are my veg du jour and we had the most delicious lunch on Monday which I shared with Red Bird to nourish her precious body during her time of illness. Veggie and Egg Tower of Power (http://mynewroots.blogspot.ca/2012/02/veggie-egg-tower-of-power.html) is one of those meals whose component parts are so simple, but put together are so fantastic. Having acquired a taste for sweet potatoes I decided to try another simple recipe that seemed like a winner. Sweet Potato Cakes with a Herbed Yoghurt dressing. 

Veggie and Egg Tower of Power a recipe definitely worth making!

(photo from http://mynewroots.blogspot.ca/)

Now it could have been the fact that I made a major error, a real gaff of the embarrassing kind when I served this meal with a rather unique version of herbed yoghurt dressing. When you have a fridge full of myriad yoghurt containers it's easy to grab the wrong one and our dressing was of the sweet vanilla persuasion! But that aside I could have saved myself the trouble and the extra flour (thank goodness I used oat and not regular AP) and fat for frying , by just mashing those orange puppies and throwing in some caramelized leeks and garlic.

I'm mentioning this today because I think it's funny how such things can really turn your day. We had a lovely afternoon hiking the Galloping Goose trail near Sooke, a small town west of Victoria. The Galloping Goose was an old railway line which wound through the stunning forests and ocean side paths from Victoria to the north of Sooke. Converted now to a 55 km bike and hiking trial we joined the path just shy of Sooke Potholes Provincial Park and trekked our way past stunning scenery, the biggest maple leaves we have ever seen, huge Rhododendrons which will only increase this walkways beauty come spring and over an old wooden trestle bridge, hard to believe it could hold the weight of a mighty engine and it's train. I don't remember what we talked about but we covered many subjects, laughed, became grossed out by the enormous slugs lazily traversing our path and shook the fog and cobwebs from our minds. We returned home happy and content to a handful of nuts and seeds, a gin and tonic and a moment of peace before I headed to the kitchen. Actually I was already in the kitchen, you're always in the kitchen in this tin can! As I followed the recipe for Sweet Potato Cakes, the fog slowly returned and my mood headed south as with each step I came to realize these were not going to live up to expectation. They tasted fine, but were limp and not worth the effort. So my mood sank last night and here I am today writing about it. The failure of the day is stuck in my mind and the success although a happy memory is already filled away. I wonder is this just me or are we humans the weirdest bunch of creatures in that we are programmed to focus on our failures. I understand why, it pushes us to try again and succeed, we didn't get to the top of the food chain on looks alone, but still it's a bit depressing really. To be the numero uno species we must focus on the negative to flourish. How strange we are!

Galloping Goose Trail Map

Wooden trestle bridge at Km 47

Well my friends I'm off to tackle a new recipe for rice-less risotto. Wish me luck!

Always Yours

Sparrow

Conkers

Dearest Birdie

With our daily need to vacate the RV, if not for any other reason than to aid in the reduction of foggy damp windows (it's that or stop breathing!), we decided to pay a visit to the Lieutenant Governor. Sunday was raining but mild and we thought the Queens rep would appreciate a visit from her Majesties British subjects. Turns out no-one was home for tea, so we contented ourselves with a stroll through the grounds. Now mid October is not the best time for what I'm sure are stunning displays of vibrant blooms, but the walk was pleasant and we saw many a deer. Just as we were heading back to the car we came across little treasures strewn across the pathway. Conkers! I don't know if this is just a British school yard game but memories came flooding back of many a battle in Junior school. Conkers polished, strings taught and always a suspicious eye ready to accuse a winning conker of clandestine cheats.

Conker's are the seed of the horse-chestnut tree and the game is played by drilling a hole through your conker and attaching a string. Two people face off, striking each others conker until one breaks. A conker that can beat another in a single blow was known as a 'oner' and it's owner would very proudly boast of his conkers abilities! Of course cheating was rampant with tricks such as boiling your conker in vinegar or the more obvious painting it with clear varnish to toughen it's shell. Such a simple game gave generations of school children hours of fun and industry. The boy was fascinated with our stories of triumph and failure and we wondered if Conkers would be popular in schools today should anyone think to bring it back. The boy quickly reminded us that a game like this would probably be banned on school grounds today, to violent or something! The worst injury I can think of was a sharp pain when your opponents Conker missed and you were hit squarely on the knuckles, god forbid any other our children should suffer so! It makes me sad to think of these missed opportunities, I mean someone had to think of this game and it had to have come from imagination mixed with boredom, as did the tennis ball in the foot of a stocking tied around your ankle or chain tag which caused many a grazed knee. Something each and every child did indeed recover from, in fact I think the cure was to brush off the gravel (there was always gravel), spit on the wound, then continue playing. Ah we were tough little nuts back then!

The latest news story of cyber bullying, (I'm not going to comment on the details as I really don't know the full story) has me thinking about how simple things were. I'm not against technology despite the fact it seems to hate me, but I feel for our children with this constant pressure to be on, all the time. If we had a bad day at school with friends we had a sanctuary at home where for a short time we could close the door and leave it all behind for the day. Now it follows our children where ever they go and people who are not even in their inner circle are posting comments with little information (or intellect sometimes) to really be able to join the conversation. Teen's are so venerable and insecure and know it, causing the kind to suffer and the mean to cause such pain. I watched my daughter be sucked into that world, unable to leave her phone for more than a minute, unless we took it away which we used every opportunity to do so. For those short moments when she was banned from technology for some misdemeanor or other we slowly saw the sweet child we knew coming back to us, curling up on the sofa for family time, chatting at dinner, generally taking part in family life.
Ironically, now I need her to be connected as I miss her terribly and am grateful for the Internet and texting and Skype, I check Facebook and Hotmail every morning in case she needs me (okay it's more for me than her!) and can't imagine her being so far away with out them.

To the family and friends of Amanda Todd, I'm truly sorry for your loss and my thoughts are with you.
Always Yours
Sparrow

Rain drops and Book shops

Dear Red Bird

Living in an RV can have it's challenges. Obvious one being space or rather lack thereof. We've been resident in our little tin can for about 4 months now and with some tweaking over that time, have figured out the best placement for everyday objects. I'm not convinced more tweaking won't be undertaken but I think we're pretty much set. However the change in weather has brought about a new routine for us that I hadn't anticipated. Window cleaning! Before breakfast and as the kettle boils, itself a self defeating function of a necessary morning ritual, we wipe down the dew soaked windows and pools of moisture gathered on the sills. While the kettle does it's best to fill the place up with more damp air, and our hot little bodies toasty from a night under thick duvets and blankets stir the air some more, we try and remove the damp, a yellow chamois my new best friend. Windows are opened no matter the weather and the heater is run full power. Damp air out, dry air in. Our morning mission before one drop of coffee can be poured is to conquer the damp before it takes hold and it's sidekick mold rears it's ugly head. I like to look on the bright side of this, clean windows always and despite the possibility of unhealthy air quality should said sidekick make an appearance (not on my watch!), having the windows open first thing can sometimes make that morning coffee unnecessary after all. Crisp cold morning air will get you going faster than a shot of caffeine I assure you! We are currently stuck in a cycle of wiping down windows with dry clothes which then become wet clothes which then need to be hung to dry which in turn, yep you've guessed it, fill the home with moisture as the water evaporates from their dew soaked fibers. Despite my unwillingness, I feel a trip to Home Depot for some super duty paper towels is on the horizon. I hate waste but I suppose they can be recycled.

So this is the downside of rainy day weather but the up side is reading. We are close to a picturesque seaside resort here, called Sidney. It is at the tip of the Saanich Peninsula a short 20 minute drive from downtown Victoria. As well as it's spectacular location, Sidney has more bookstores per capital than anywhere else in the country and has earn't the title of Canada's Booktown. More importantly not one of them is a large multinational. I love nothing more than lazily strolling the shelves, reaching for a book every now and then as a title or cover jumps out from the rest and pulls me in. You will most likely find me in the cooking aisle drooling over recipes from all corners of the world, or perhaps in the design section dreaming and planning our future home. I'm not a big non-fiction reader, preferring true stories of life, it's triumphs and struggles. Rainy days are perfect for long afternoons of transportation to far away places.

One last wipe of the windows and I'm heading back under the covers. Tea is made and book is by my side, just about perfect don't you think!
Always yours
Sparrow

A Plum Story

Dearest Red Bird

Okay, so the most amazing thing is going on in the little room behind me. The boy is talking out loud. WHAAAT! This is big people. This is something he is not usually able to do but behind that door the boy is learning Swedish and he is doing it out loud. I am the happiest being right now. For us this small thing is a big step towards breaking down a fear and opening up a child's mind to accept his voice and be comfortable speaking. For me this is the beginning of something bigger, this is a step towards the possibility that one day he might be able to chat with people, go to job interviews, be able to make friends and keep them. Rosetta Stone, I love you.

So while I sit in my little bubble of happiness, I want to tell you about plums. We all have a favourite fruit and surprisingly plums are not mine, but once a year these little gems fill me with nostalgia and here's why. My mother is German and Germany for me is the greatest place on earth. I grew up in the UK, but spent every summer of my childhood in Germany. German was my first language before I spoke English. We celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve and  on Dec 5th, put our shoes out for St. Nick. I love rye bread and herring, I love the language and the people. But when I think of Germany, I think plums. I think of my mother, thick slab of bread in hand, covered by a generous smear of Quark topped with the deep purple of Pflaumenmus (plum butter). I think of the plum trees in my parents garden heavy with their sweet load and my mother carrying plums back to the house usually in the turned up edge of her sweater, eating some on the way. And then the reward from all this growing and gathering, Pflaumenkuchen (plum cake). In Germany, Kaffee und Kuchen (coffee and cake) is almost a religious affair, actually, I don't know what the rest of Germany think of Kaffee und Kuchen, but for me it was time with my grand mother, hand embroidered table cloth neatly covered with her best china. It was a time for sitting quietly, while the grown ups talked and we ate the most delicious cake and sipped juice or milk while the heavenly aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped us. I loved Kaffee und Kuchen time and it is the one thing I look forward to the most when we visit family in Hamburg. My daughter while on her year of discovery in Europe has also fallen for Germany in a big way. Future plans now involve time living in this great country and I am more than excited for her.

This time of year the humble fruit shines and our local store has a bountiful supply of those deep purple treasures awaiting my tiny stove. The best plums to use for baking are Italian prune plums. They are not at their best uncooked,although that doesn't stop me from devouring them on the way home (like mother like daughter) but put them in the oven and their flavour develops. Part sweet part acidic, these little purple orbs of fruity goodness become something quite exciting. I love how such simple things can bring up such emotion and how a seemingly mundane task such as grocery shopping can turn into a trip down memory lane. During our visit to Galliano Island last week we found ourselves parked at the harbour facing the most wonderful food truck. The smells coming from it were mouthwatering, but the decor on the van was what caught my eye. The stories from my childhood of the devilish Max und Moritz, two naughty boys causing mischief wherever they went, painted on a truck, parked in a corner of a tiny Island in BC, many miles from Germany. Simple pleasures to warm the soul are so important to healthy living. With so much focus on the bad and sad in the world it does wonders to step back and remember the good and smile at all those good times.

Funnily enough the smell from this food truck was of Asian cuisine, 

but the memories were all German!

Perhaps Red Bird, while you are feeling low, a return to childhood might just be the thing. Maybe a favourite food or a teen movie so cheesy it smells! Put on some 80's pop or dig out the photo album and remember the times when responsibility wasn't your burden, simply eating cake and having fun was.

Not my mothers Pflaumenkuchen, but pretty good none the less.

Always Yours
Sparrow

Excuse Me While I Hibernate

Sparrow,

You send me the most beautiful emails.

You are far away and, I know, you would be here to put the kettle on if you could but, you can't.  Once again, I'm following your advice; I'm excusing myself from the world for a bit. There are too many demands on me, too much that I need to do, and too little of my own peace of mind to go around. You have so beautifully offered to take over the blog while I recuperate from my "blues", and I accept. For a change, I recognize that I need a break and I'm going to take it. I'm going to drink tea, listen to music, sleep, and cuddle with the puppy. I will take some time to catch up on my classes but that's only because if I don't, I'll have even more of a burden on my shoulders when I'm finally ready to face the world again. I'm even going to excuse myself from social gatherings, excluding a much needed time planned with family in the near future. My daughters, I know, will rally around me because they are beautiful souls and they love me.

I'll keep you updated with how I'm feeling by personal email, Sparrow, though you may get a post out of me yet as I do have one in the works. If I'm up to it, I'll send it through but, not this week.

Again, Thank you
Love Always,
A Finally Taking Care of Herself, Red Bird

Random thought

Do I need to justify the ridiculous size of the photograph in the last post? I think it's been made clear in previous posts that I am a world class techno idiot. You, Red Bird, kindly include step by step instructions when sending  anything to our joint Dropbox, for which I thank you. Actually, I'm pretty sure, just like the Great Canadian Conspiracy about the existence of bears, that there is in actual fact another one afoot. I am beginning to think that all computers are programmed to recognize the less techno loving of us. Upon said recognition they automatically do everything they can to make you look even more stupid. Case in point, today I was working on a lesson plan for Science and came across a great resource via NASA. I stumbled upon the teachers guide, but could not for the life of me find the student guide with all the activities. I tried, what I thought was a very intelligent search using the words 'student guide'. Nada. After much frustration I sent the link to husband who promptly sent back the link to the student guide. What words did he use? Student guide! I know right! The only explanation is the conspiracy thing, it has to be, because I can't be that idiotic I just can't be:)
Did you know my friend that I've always wanted a ping pong table? Of course you didn't, how could you have possibly known that! Crazy game, lots of fun. One more thing I suck at, but have fun sucking at. Well guess what? They have one here at our little village and a champion is about to be born! We had a little warm up tonight. Got a great volley going, with the ping pong ball hitting every surface but the table. Turns out we don't need the table after all. We may have been playing Aussie rules ping pong or something, there was a lot of physical action what with having to avoid the BBQ, but I think with some practice, a beefed up health insurance policy and oh I don't know some clever twisting of the rules, I could be really good at ping pong. Finding something fun to do every day that counts towards the boy's Phys Ed quota, taken care of!

Home of a future ping pong champion (not in this reality you understand!)

Today is damp and foggy, our first non sunny day in BC. That means bread baking and tea drinking with lots of curling up under blankets and reading thrown in for good measure. Today it feels like fall and California's call is getting louder. I am currently listening to a band called 'The Head and The Heart'. They are playing live in Portland, Oregon at the end of the month so we might just move on and catch their show on our way down. I've always wanted to go to Portland, it was a planned route stop for whenever we decided to head south, so this is just a bonus. Actually, I'm quiet enjoying this weather change, husband is rolling his eyes, I complain about feeling cold constantly. The truth is, other than the cold, I like the darker mornings, the fog over the beach. I like the permission it gives me to fire up the stove and bake, bake, bake. I love the big baggy sweaters that replace the daily need  to suck it all in. I'm dreaming of custards and stews, bread hot out the oven dripping in butter. Ginger, plums (more on plums next post), crumbles and hot porridge dotted with brown sugar. I'm going to need a bigger sweater!
Well, kettles boiled and the painful task of crawling out from under my blanket to throw a tea bag in a mug must be undertaken. Wish me luck!
Always yours
Sparrow

Oh and a quick confession. While on the top of the Rocky Mountains, we did actually see a bear!

At first I was really excited, but upon closer inspection, don't you think it's a bit shifty the way it's hiding it's face and they clearly left the label on the costume. Come on people, that's just sloppy. (yay, I saw a bear:)!!)

Inviting memories to tea.

My dear dear friend, I think it was inevitable that you were going to hit this period of mourning. I think that's a good word to use. You have lost so much recently. Your marriage, your job which, despite the amazingly dysfunctional craziness of it, did so much for your self esteem. Your daughters innocence, that episode took her straight from child to adult in the most painful way. Physically you lost a part of you also, literally, with your surgery and I believe there is some mourning happening there too. You lost your home environment that was safe and so full of memories and you and your new home are still getting to know each other perhaps. It takes a while for a house to feel like a home sometimes. On top of that you are doing it on your own. Yes you have good friends who love you dearly, but as much as we know and sympathize and support, only you can sort and store or disregard these things. So I say embrace this time as necessary, this is your mind telling you it is full for the time being and needs help processing what happened. Take each episode from this past year, spend time with it, make your peace with the bad, remember and laugh with the good, then put it away. It has happened and it is past. You can re-visit in the future when you are feeling stronger, you can create a category for that, just be at peace with it before you file it away. Try and actually set a time aside to imagine this Red Bird, sit with your memory like you would sit with a friend for tea. Only one at a time, this is not a dinner party. Give it your full attention and work it through from beginning to end until you are at peace. Don't waste time trying to change what happened, don't beat yourself up over woulda' coulda' shoulda', just focus on what you did do and remember the reasons for why, they were all genuine and valid. Maybe the results might not have been perfect at times,not what you would have hoped for, but it is done. I am with you in spirit, thinking of you everyday. This time of sadness will pass leaving you stronger. I hope some of this helps, it's weird I know and a bit Hippie Dippie, but perhaps there is too much whirling around in your head causing this fog? I don't know. If it doesn't work, just have another brownie and know that we are here.

I feel so very far away from your right now and sad that I'm not there to pick you up, then again I only come with raw brownies, maybe it's for the best.
Always yours
Sparrow

Brownies, Cousins, and Matthew Good

Sparrow,

Hearing about your life in Vancouver made me smile. Things were so emotionally difficult for you for so long that I often found myself thinking about you and worrying. I realize that you’re not completely settled yet, and that must make you a little crazy, but I can just see you on your property hunt, preparing for your new life outside the RV. I can imagine exactly what would attract you to a property and what would make you reject it. I can’t wait to see what you choose and what your new “settled for the most part” life will look like. And, Vancouver, could you get any more beautiful! I was there with the family a few years ago and I fell in love.  We actually considered moving there with “His” job but the complications of it were too much for us at the time. You should send me pictures of what you’re seeing, or, better yet, post them here for us all to see. It’s one thing to hear about it and another to have a picture.

As you know from our personal emails, I’ve been dragging the past few weeks, literally, dragging. I caught a cold about 3 weeks ago and I haven’t been able to shake it yet. What started as a sore throat and fever has progressed to a “kill me now, I’m dying, Man Cold”. I took your advice about getting some Vitamin B pills and I’ve been continuing to exercise to keep my energy levels up but, still, my Man Cold has turned into a burning hack which, yes, I’m taking antibiotics for.

I realize, now, though, that it’s not simply a cold, or general sense of malaise, that keeps me dragging; I have the…are you ready for it…I have the blues.

I’m in the dumps.

Mildly depressed.

Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious, but my spirit is low and I can’t seem to pick it up again. For weeks now I’ve been dragging myself around, unable to tackle even the simplest of tasks and, trust me, considering I’m enrolled in 6 courses at the moment, there are ALWAYS tasks at hand. There’s the dog to walk and tend to, meals to make, laundry to be done…you know the drill. But, instead, I procrastinate (notice I have not yet mentioned installing Skype?!), I drag my feet, and I mope.

You know, when I think about it, with all of the things that have happened in my life over the past year, is it at all surprising that I’m in the dumps? Not only did I get separated after 17+ years of marriage, but I was also working a job that wore me into the ground, my child went through another serious depressive episode, I was diagnosed with a vascular tumour in my thigh and hip for which I had surgery and lost a large extent of muscle to, I quit my job due to my health, lost a dear friend to an RV (  :-)  ), left my home and bought a new one. That’s a lot for one year, don’t you think?

Is it any surprise then, that I’m blue? And, trust me, I’m not whining. I’m very matter of fact and accepting of this state that I’m currently in and I think it’s important to put it out there; to tell readers the reality of what happens when you give your life the “heave ho”. It’s not all fun and games, is it? It’s hard work physically and emotionally and it’s particularly hard when you’re doing it alone and you’re recuperating from major surgery like I did.

Now, I’m settled in this new house of mine and, just when things should be settling down, I feel depressed. There’s no more trauma, no more overwork, no more house hunting and packing to hold me up and keep my brain from reacting to the shock that has been my year. Oh, sure, the new puppy and the courses keep me more than busy, but those are solitary pursuits, leaving me far too much on my own with time to think.

There are, however, three things that are helping to keep me afloat during this self-indulgent period of “blue”: brownies, cousins, and Matthew Good.

Brownies, well, those are self explanatory, are they not. I’m a chick. Brownies are chocolate. Brownies are chocolaty, nutty slices of heaven and, no, don’t even suggest a raw brownie, dear heart. You eat the raw, healthy, kind. I’m sticking to the ooey gooey goodness of brownies made with deep rich chocolate, eggs, butter, sugar…God, I want one just thinking about it. Yup, brownies, and a good cup of coffee are helping to keep me on a forward track. If I can love a brownie that much, I can’t be too lost, can I?!

Now, let me tell you about cousins. I have cousins coming out of my ears on my father’s side of the family but, for a variety of reasons, I never did get to know them. It didn’t help that I am one of the oldest cousins in the clan and that while their families, for the most part, stayed in Northern Ontario, my father fled to Southern Ontario where my siblings and I were raised. Through the joys of Facebook, I’m getting to know these cousins and I’m discovering a group of people who are generously beautiful and who, without really having spent time with me, seem to be forming a security net around me. I’m including in this “cousin category” a most stunning creature who shall remain nameless in this blog but who is now my cousin through marriage and who has accepted me as one of her own and throws love at me on a regular basis. These cousins have become vitally important to me and the fact that they reach out to me, well, that makes me smile and, so, again, I can’t be too lost if cousins are making me smile, can I?!

Finally, there’s always Matthew Good. Matthew Good sings the songs that are the sound of the blues for me, echoing a sort of sadness through my earphones but, if I can listen to music, and recognize the beauty of the words and be inspired, I can’t be too blue, can I?! So, like brownies, and cousins, Matthew Good reminds me that I’m not lost, I’ve just hit a bump…a road bump…and, with time, and antibiotics and chocolate goodness, I’ll be on my feet again. For now, I’m having trouble facing day to day, I’m dragging my feet, I’m falling behind in my classes, I’m failing to get blog entries out, and I’m rejecting time with friends. And, while I don’t need or want sympathy and a rush of emails and messages, I’m putting my mood into a blog entry because I strongly believe that people should know; life altering journeys are not easy. They are difficult, painful periods of time that can, if you’re lucky, be held at bay with a copious consumption of calories, kind and generous cousins, and Matthew Good.

Love always, A tired and coughing Red Bird

PS, in case you’re worried because you’re not here to check my emotional temperature, I give it 5 minutes from the time she reads this post until “Raven”, texts me and starts to “mother” me. She is another reason I’ll get on my feet again and, one day, I’ll have to dedicate a blog entry to that special friend who has carried me through a lot of this journey, when I was having trouble flying.

 Matthew Good - How It Goes