Monthly Archives: April 2016

Comfort Food

The dog is running from the living room to the dining room and back. I can hear the tinkle of her tags on her collar and the occasional bang as she is running into items enjoying her morning.

I am enjoying the quiet corner, coffee in hand, the massage chair trying to loosen my back so I can decide what to make today?

I am pondering over the endless recipes I have and what options I could make. My recipe box still houses my favourites but I have mastered the allrecipes.com site and enjoy how it has changed to follow others as they test some recipes and give their feedback or substitutes.

I ensure I look at how many times the item was made and if they have any variations before I start. I also love how I could say I have these couple ingredients what can I make. In other words, make me a chef with my carrots and cabbage.

It makes meals more interesting instead of families cooking the same items on Monday, Tuesday each week. At this moment Kitty from the 70’s show is laughing nervously in my head.

What do you mean not having meatloaf Monday’s? Yes, I choose to be more unique. I am all for meal planning, but I prefer to do it weekly as somedays the best meal is as simple as a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup with lots of pepper and crackers.

“Comfort food for the soul.”

Mr. Jones eats the same breakfast everyday and has for so many years. He tried a variation once but always goes back to his true one; his comfort food.

I asked once why, and for him the peanut butter and banana gave him enough substance to go on in the day; plus it was an item when money was tight he could still manage.

I think back to the farm, we normally had cereal but I didn’t have milk, it made me ill. I grew up on a powered variation for some time, then in my preteens, I drank a ton of milk and haven’t had it since. My body does not do well with it.

Pancakes were the one item I recall and scrambled eggs especially when the family was all together. I think that may be why, for years I cooked the same for the kids, we just adapted and used the waffle maker at times to make Mickey and Minnie Mouse’s head.

Pancake ingredients were cheap for how much you used and you could make lots of them at no real impact to the pocketbook. (We would individually wrap each one and freeze them for school mornings, little miss popped it into the toaster and boom, fresh pancakes.)

I’m thinking of the costs on families, those that can take the time and have the items in house to measure their flour, baking powder, salt and sugar, for very little cost and those that buy the same in a box for five dollars and may get two meals from that box or less depending on the size of a family.

As I am Canadian, the cost depends on the store and how far North you are, costs keep expanding and some retailers use this to their advantage. Families are the ones who can suffer.

Cooking skills are not always taught anymore in schools and I feel that everyone is losing out on some very important life skills.

If food is a required substance as much as air is, it should be taught as cooking is not a given from osmosis at birth; poof, you know how to make crepes. (This is an item I so, need to master.)

I seem to be ranting some today and I feel I know where it comes from. I watch as I shop, and see the amount of prepackaged, processed foods in the carts. I am grateful for a roommate that taught me the art of cooking, for running a restaurant and getting lost in the sauces in the afternoons and for being brave to say I’m making this.

If my grandmas could make it with little money and raise families, we need to adapt and look at their best take aways from those years. Here is your recipe for today.

Pancakes:

1.5 c. Flour ( you can get gluten free)

3.5 tsp. Baking Powder

1 tsp. Salt

1 tbsp. Sugar or your substitute

1.25 c. Milk (1 1/4)

1 Egg or egg substitute

3 tbsp. Melted Butter or your substitute

Sift it together, (the sifter: that’s the silver thing that you use to make a music sound and dance crazily with, I pretend mine are macarenas shakers.) Add the wet ingredients and stir that sucker while you dance and shake it. If you want some other variations add dried fruit, flax seeds, substitute orange juice for milk (my mum did this and they were good.) or just about anything else you can think of. If you use whole wheat go half whole, half white, this way they won’t be so dense.

“A recipe has no soul, you as the cook must bring soul to the recipe.” Thomas Keller

Happy cooking. Enjoy the table time and table talk with each other. One day you may be sitting alone at the table wishing for the time back.

Love always the ranting, comfort loving, pancake making, Woman in Process

P.S pup is snoring logs in the chair, she is probably dreaming of the pancake stacks. I’m thinking pancakes tomorrow!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mr. Turvy

I was grateful for my session to day with my therapist. So much has been taking place and so many steps back have been taken due to circumstances.

My guidance and path is becoming dusted off again and I know I can make it if I don’t lose faith.

This evening, with all my fur babies in bed and one rattling the bed with major hiccups, we snuggle in to enjoy the words of Mary Poppins Comes Back.

Each fur baby hanging on every word as we read our story out loud and I include sound effects to make it dramatic, (they really like that part). As I am reading, I realize Mr. Turvy and I have a lot in common.

His world goes backwards from what he wants; when he tries to be happy he is sad, when he tries to repair items he messes them up. He has his challenges, he is upside down.

His predicament makes me smile but also relate to him as if it is my world. The catch is, he gets a new perspective from being on his head. He sees what others do not and today that was one of my lessons.

It may have come between tapping and tears but there was light through the darkness, perspective on my situation and hope. One of my fears is will I be like this forever? Will it be a few steps forward, then steps back and I am hiding in the shadows afraid of what life is throwing at me?

There is faith, there is resilience and there is that one thing that is better than determination and that is stubbornness.

Let’s call it creative stubbornness; one where we can find the answers in all that we do. From reading a childhood favourite, listening to a song, I am open to my intuition for guidance and know my celebration will be the sight of the laughing tea party on the ceiling in Mary’s book.

Tomorrow armed with my umbrella I will reclaim my destination with fury, imagination and kindness. May the gods grant me my solitude along the way to redefine myself and my path. May no one get in my way as I feel you cannot hold me back as it will be hazardous to others health.

We slept hard and fast, upon waking up, eureka! I have solutions to one of my issues from working through it in my sleep.  It must be because I had some clarity and my brain was finally able to focus on another task. I am pleased and hope and determination are the words to get this completed.

Our conversation yesterday, spoke again of the layers of ptsd. The creation of it over all the years, I realize you cannot undue 23 years in a year and will buckle my seatbelt for the ride; guess Spook and pup will be around for the long haul, I am hopeful.

My appreciation to those of you who work in the industry to assist us with our challenges. I am grateful for the impact that my therapist has on me to assist me with the stones being thrown. In no time I expect to be hitting them right back into space.

“If you cannot see a solution to your problem, stand on your head and see if the outlook changes.” Spooktacukar Witch

As always, love from the Einstein thinking,   looking for solitude, Woman in Process

 

 

Chain Reaction

I’m hunched over and trying to get around with no cane. People do not understand how much of my independence is crushed each time my mobility begins to go.

It deflates my heart, my soul and I struggle  with all my might to keep going. The shooting pains are constant and each time it takes place my face cringes in pain. I try to hide it but at a certain point you can see.

My eyes close and I deep breathe as each one hits me, it started last night and it hasn’t stopped yet. That’s no break and the abs are trying to synchronize themselves into the routine.

Each one fighting over who can shoot the biggest pain. My eyes are drowsy looking, my arms are numb and I slur my words, as if I am drunk. These are a few of the items I am dealing with.

I am walking away and someone is laughing at how I am walking. I do not engage and hear them saying I’m not laughing at you but laughing at how you are.

Seriously?

It takes everything at that moment to not beat the person down to a pulp. I keep going and remind myself to be better. I ignore them, I do not engage anymore that day with the individual.

I am shocked and hurt each time that someone seems to think they are being funny at how much pain I am in. I feel sorry for them as they do not get it.

I am a firm believer in karma and each person who ridicules will eventually have to endure what that person felt in some way. I feel that for some people that is the only way.

To the man who ran into me physically with his body very hard, because he was in a hurry, not paying attention; I was gracious. What you didn’t see was how much you hurt me. I started to tear from the pain. How it caused a change reaction to what I deal with. Today I pay a bigger price.

This will take me a long while to heal; to heal physically, to heal emotionally, to heal my soul.

Tonight I pray for all those afflicted with chronic illness. To those that feel they have to explain and validate what they are dealing with; to those that keep getting up when you are knocked down, to those who are questioning as I am, is this it; the impending doom?

Be brave my fellow warriors, be gracious when people do not get it as hard as it is, be courageous and strong. You are all in my thoughts tonight.

Love the Woman in Process

 

 

I Dream a Little Dream

I wake up laughing at the contortionist of a dog I have. Too lazy to get to her feet to move around she moves her body inch by inch shimming until she is snuggled up to me.

I am calm today, and slept like a log. I even dreamed last night and that makes me so happy. It was beautiful, my two boys in heaven and my beautiful girl meeting each other so we could go on a trip together.

Of course the pup was trying to put her big massive paw on the boys, but they eventually worked out the logistics. We were one big happy family, and I’m still curious where I got the car to drive, it was a beauty.

I wonder if this was the approval from them that they thought she was a going to big a good dog. I know right now they are telling me they were the best, but I’m sure my Princess Mojo is tuning them in.

Now where to start on this glorious day, I ponder, taxes, a speech, more baking for the freezer. I think an outing is in order first; anything than tax paperwork as that just depresses me even more.

In a conversation a little while ago we were discussing how much I enjoyed cooking and baking. It brought back some happy memories of my life and everything truly does revolve around the time we converse and laugh while prepping a meal.

As I seemed to have on some productive pants and feeling pretty good, I took advantage of it. I was a researching machine for new recipes and away I went with my flour . My Kitchenaid was on fire, and every item turned out so tasty, sweet, and made with love and care.

Those that deal with MS will understand this the best; most times my kitchen is covered in items as I cook.

I cannot help it and cannot control the spastic movements that take over my arms and hands. I always crack up now as one day I just stopped crying. Oh well, is my choice of words now.

My freezer is slowly being refilled and I ask Mr. Jones why is it when we are so busy with work we take on more family items and challenges and once things slow right down, we finally return to what we really enjoy and spend our time on things we love.

We get caught up in the rat race but it seems to disengage us more. We miss out on the family dinners as everyone is running different directions, we miss out on the conversations; these are what we value. We seem to have a phone calendar so full we forget on some days to have our relax time, maybe we should have scheduled it in.

After some discussion, on things we truly love and appreciate. We have made our commitment to work on the betterment of us; this completed by being passionate to the things we seemed to have forgetten before. Cooking from scratch, playing board games, reading the classics, having coffee in our home with friends. Those were all great times.

As money was always an issue growing up, and for Mr. Jones he had even a harder life; we realized now how those circumstances did give us different tools; the ability to garden, cook from scratch, improvise in recipes and so much more.

Having less was a great opportunity to gain knowledge and learn from others. We also shared our items with others and really took care of what we had.

Mr. Jones mother was a great cook and a hard worker. She was truly his inspiration to follow in her footsteps. His mother passed a few years ago and I know how much his misses the short old gal. She was a riot and man could she cook.

Today I share my words of wisdom from my dog; “There is always time for a belly rub.”

Love always the spastic, cooking, Woman in Process

P.S don’t get over zealous on the addition of the flour.

 

 

Wakey Wakey

That moment you wake up, and are thinking do I go to work tomorrow? What day is it? Confused, groggy you have no idea.

I believed it was the weekend and once I convinced myself it was, I was ready to happy dance before crawling back in. Now this is in the middle of the night that I was dancing for joy.

It felt like such a long week, I am exhausted and very thankful that we do not have a lot of chores or tasks to complete. I can hang out and play with my dog and nap. I think that is a great way to spend the day; maybe some cartoons as well.

After a few bites of the pup playing with me, and me going into ignore mode, she immediately stops and comes crawling up to snuggle. It is amazing how bright she is, and how fast you can see her understanding at that moment, how much she hurt me. Normally followed by some please forgive me kisses.

A day of nothing, or puttering is probably one of the best days of all. Everything is unknown in the sense that you could start a project, a painting, your writing and somewhere out of it all is a new masterpiece; or an a-ha moment.

The weather is cool, overcast and I find it more beautiful outside. I find it workable, I can walk and not overheat, I can garden and not squint, I could play in a puddle with my rain boots if it rains. It feels light, like something is beginning to develop and sprout.

Mr. Jones was laughing as I bought the pup a pair of doggles. He said she won’t wear them. I said she had to if she wanted to put her head out the window. I don’t want anything getting in her beautiful brown eyes. After a few potato chips I convinced her she looked like a rockstar and is comfortable with them, she wore them with style; today we do it again.

I am thinking I may have to pull the grand camera out, and begin working on my photos of her. I have been missing seeing the blooms, the growing forage on the pathways of the trail and am looking forward to a day trip adventure. I will day dream about that while I sit in the patio recliner, with my hood pulled over my head, resting.

The pup has made the backyard her own. Mr. Jones had to do some tree cutting as we have our own forest in the back and the pup has gone to helping take sticks to the growing pile. She as well is doing her best in imitating a beaver as she gnaws on the cuts of the tree branches.

The seagulls are flying over being loud; each one screaming mine above the other, the wind is rustling the few leaves that have started to grow. The grass is getting greener, and I just sit with my baileys and coffee taking it all in. Each breathe I take  on the breeze, as it tickles my nose; closing my eyes in appreciation of the day.

Last year’s plant stalks dead and waiting for new growth to begin. Flower containers waiting for new dirt and life to embrace the sun. Listening to neighbors beginning their spring clean up in the neighbourhood.

I dream of the walkway up to grandma’s house, the old pathway surrounded by the height of these amazing Hollyhocks, Sunflowers and more. Stalks towering taller than I was at the age of five.

Heightened smells of each one, bumblebees grateful for her green thumb. As you finish walking by them, you see the backyard, trees, a full garden, her greenhouse; with all her plants beginning in the plastic containers that once had food in it. Nothing went to waste.

Geraniums taking off from seeds and the feel of warm moist air in the greenhouse, attached to the house, with old white and peach painted windows. I always wanted to be with her and her flowers. I wished I could plant like she could; grow a tomato or cucumber of my own.

Each trip ended with me holding fresh cut flowers to take to my other grandmothers home after. The old house was comforting, it was home. You would feel so calm when you arrived and couldn’t wait to crawl into the creaky bed with the heavy comforters of feathers; the basement cool and dark. Old black and white photos of family, a chain on the light to turn it on and off, the old sewing machine in the one corner.

We would snuggle in and fall asleep instantly, to slowly wake and hear our grandparents up; the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. Eggs cooked in the bacon grease and fresh homemade bread toasting in the oven. Jam made of various flavours and hot tea and cream ready as our sleepy eyes were still adjusting to the light; as we walk up the steep stairs with pieces of carpet set on each stair.

A trip into the local town and our lunch of KFC and my grandma always saying, “Yum, yum.” As she smacks her lips together to exaggerate how great the food was. She was funny. Followed by her famous, “Eat, eat!”

Such fond memories and ones I cherish in my heart. My body is weak today and I feel less is more. Mr. Jones makes me some eggs and toast and the pup lays on my legs as she is trying to understand why I am not moving correctly.

This year my bestie and I are talking about putting a garden in at her place. I’m thinking we may need to also venture out and get our berries to start making some wonderful jams, I have a few suggestions. I feel today I may try to find grandma’s bread recipe in my book or treasures and make a loaf or two for breakfast tomorrow.

The calming smell is one smell I still remember as if it was just taking place. Today I encourage you to remember the best memory of your grandparents. Maybe it’s time to bring some of those memories back in and not let them be forgotten but shared.

“Bread and water, can so easily be toast and tea.” Unknown

Love always the day dreaming, bread loving, Woman in Process

 

 

 

 

 

Dodging Bullets

Thirty people sit in the dim meeting room each one ready to see what information they can take away from the class. How has this situation affected them before?

Some say they think they never have dealt with deescalating a situation, some see it often, some say they run. I find it interesting to think about what and how they see the situations in a different light, how they handle it.

It feels as though a person is not alone in this crazy messed up world. Each of us sometimes are just given a crappy situation and have to deal with it.

How many of them have had to clean up the aftermaths of one of those situations? How many have had to deal with a situation of someone else and tell yourself not to think about it years later? How many still associate smells to this day and find themselves gagging?

This class has brought more back in the sense I have to think about my anger, the fight, the flight, thinking back and evaluating. It is good, hard and challenging all at the same time.

The painting in my head is dark, black, my demon sitting on the fence looking into nothing, open space, just sitting. This is how I feel inside at times. Like something had taken over, consumed my colour and I am looking for the light switch in the dark.

I am still dodging bullets one by one, each day. I am learning how to duck, run, assess, how to see a situation and how to cope after. The smallest can put me down on the ground quivering in private, the worst can make me calm; it all depends on the day; how my brain responds.

It is lunch break, the emotions have taken the toll on me and I am gagging then getting sick. Mr. Jones is home due to the economics of our area and suggests I don’t go back.

Oh no, I want to, I’m being challenged in every area but it also has me thinking about my future profession. I question if I am pushing myself too hard right now?

I believe it is time to review more of my life; school could be in my future while I work. I need to really look at what it is I want, where do I see myself? Is this where my destiny is suppose to go?

I will wait for a sign as I always do, to see the path that becomes visible. I feel there is a possibility that the path may be marked with bushes and stumbling blocks but believe this will probably be the route; a struggle to gain the best results.

At the table are four lovely women, each from a different profession, and an instructor who is definitely passionate about her work. I have take aways, and that is the gift.

From the fall yesterday, and the struggle of emotions today I collapse into bed early for a pre-nap before I sleep. The pup is realizing I am not right, and snuggles up to me, her cold wet nose on my shoulder.

These are the days my whole future is up in the air as I question when I will be normal or my version of normal? Will I be able to achieve and move forward in years to come? Or will I be haunted for the rest of my days?

I know time answers all questions and always am wondering if there are a lot of us out there who feel the same way?

Tonight I put my brain to bed and let it be. Tomorrow I hope for light.

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” Brene Brown

Love always the snoozing, gagging, please flick the light on, Woman in Process

 

Wishing on a Wishbone

It is not Easter, not Christmas we were just in the mood for it; a home style Tom the turkey dinner. The smell wafts outside the house as I drive back into the cracked old driveway from a jaunt with the pup and my sister.

Our 75 year old house, with all its flaws and character is one of the best places to drive up to.

The roof may not be perfectly straight, but the shingles keep us dry; the cement may be cracked and I can tell you how and which winter that took its toll on it. The large windows are inviting and scenic; the old house says come on in and welcome, when it is full of family and friends.

The old grass may need love and attention each year, yet it welcomes me each spring along with the flowerbeds of perennials peaking through the dirt, hedges growing tall and trees holding our bird feeders to keep our feathery friends happy.

The pup is experimenting with her digging skills and I am grateful that I have large groups of flowers and plants; I should have some left when she is done with her adaptation to our yard.

The old red shed, houses my planting gear and all the seasonal goodies to make the place look grand and festive.

The day was one of thankfulness; with opportunity and lessons being learned all around.

New outside toys were purchased, training was going well and someone is exhausted from running through the paths all over the yard.

Frisbees flew through the air and some were caught; balls were scattered across the yard in every colour. It was a day for gratefulness. Time didn’t fly by, it casually sauntered and allowed me the time I needed for appreciation.

My alone time has been somewhat neglected as we adjust to the new member of our family, but we seem to be making strides with cats not having their noses out of joint and becoming acquaintances of their new sister.

My patience some days, at the level of a saint, (Spook is laughing) and other days, exhausted and defeated, I have to remind myself the gratefulness of having a new dog.

The one animal who doesn’t see you for seconds and is excited to see you again and again. I am learning to remind myself that. She doesn’t care if I was sad or mad a couple minutes ago. If she nipped me and I told her no. She is so glad that I am there.

That love is grand and shows the size of a dog’s heart; it’s so caring, full, giving. If we all had one that big, we would complete amazing humanitarian items everyday for others.

We would not feel defeated, we would forget, we would strive for our best, and do it happy; I think I need to adapt the attitude of a dog; maybe even a tail wag once in a while for a laugh and to remind me to shake it. Look at life through the eyes of a dog.

As I sit here nursing my knee from the accident of saving my dog from running away, I think back after to that moment. I wrecked my pants, knee bloody, shoes broken and ripped, and the only thing I could think about was how I didn’t want to lose her; she was the most important thing, my companion.

I sit here listening to a group of birds chattering about their day and who had the best bird seed in the neighbourhood; I think I will just go limp a long and find my dog who is with Mr. Jones laying in the yard and give her a great big excited hello. I am so happy to see her too.

Our wishbone is calling for us to break it and as I think about it, even with all the flaws, my life is perfect the way it is. I will wish for what I always do, to be happy.

“With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy?” Oscar Wilde

Love always the skinned up, dog saving, I do need a cocktail now, Woman in Process

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Puddle Prancing

Tonight, I was heading outside with the dog, and there is our neighbour with her tiny dog. Our dog is so excited when they see each other. They jump and bounce and are so playful; so glad she found her first friend. (Now to teach her to keep her giant paws off her, during play.)

Once we got them into a closed in area we let them run like crazy. With one puddle in the rink the dogs headed there first, all paws in and prancing in and out, covering themselves in the murky water.

They were in their glory and to watch it I couldn’t stop laughing at their joy of being together, running and playing. It makes my heart light seeing the experiences of her. It helps so much with my moods; most days I feel like my head spins around with Jekyll and Hyde each reintroducing themselves.

It is Tuesday and my night was awful; nightmares, sweats, tears and here I thought things were getting better. It was devasting to feel like someone shoved me off the cliff and I was trying to learn how to fly again from the blackness.

I was crying, this time it was my pup who came closer and snuggled up to me to help calm me down. She stayed right beside me, she wouldn’t leave. I tried to sleep and it was impossible, my mind racing like Smokey and the Bandit down the road at full speed, dodging Buford T. Justice.

My brain felt scarred, defeated and lifeless, it made me physically ill. The tears came hard and I hugged my dog; I didn’t want to let go.

I couldn’t go in to work, I couldn’t leave my house, I felt trapped again, a prisoner in my own head. I just wanted to pull the covers over my hair and vanish. The pup had other ideas and pulled my blankets down, trying to get me to start the day.

I stayed home, made tea, slept, snuggled my dog, cried and just sat in the quiet, aiming to just be. For the next few nights, nightmares have continued and sleep has been limited; my body and mind are exhausted.

As much as I hate doing it, I had to start finding out why or what has triggered the nightmares again. What event made me so scared? Was it the flying? Was it being away from home? Was it because I was so brave on our trip and needed to hit bottom again?

The one night I had this awful dream of my pup, combined with all the other nightmares; I was shaken, scared and lonely.

I start analyzing why and began to start seeing the patterns. I remind myself I am not there and I am not going to lose the love of my dog, she is meant to be here. The other nightmares are the past, I wonder will this ever stop?

It is challenging to be so happy about her and scared that someone or something will take her away from me and my world would crash down, some may not understand this but in the dark she is my beakon of light.

It’s quite frustrating, I embrace it, as to me she is a loving miracle, she makes me focused and helps me get through the days with a purpose; seeing life differently.

My goal was to try and sleep in past seven Saturday morning; instead I was woken up to a furry head on the back of my neck and a paw on my arm. Someone needed snuggling, I always take it as I think it is me that needs it more.

I will aim to smile more, laugh more, love more and find a way back to the lighter side. It may take a day or two but hey I got this far; I feel I may need to finally introduce her to the paint room.

I’m sure a paw print painting would be fabulous, full of life, prancing and colour. She still isn’t sure about the crying, I have a feeling it will be released completely there.

Today make sure you embrace any opportunity to dance lively in the puddles and splash with both feet.

“Fate whispers to the warrior, you cannot withstand the storm, the warrior whispers back; I am the storm.”

Love always the snuggling, fur loving, analytical, Woman in Process

 

 

 

Homerun

This is it, the adventure curving on the home run into the base. I am still contemplating and thinking about some new adventures we can take that are close to home with the pup. Let her explore more, as she looks as though her awkwardness is leaving her. (I think I found it!)

Items that may be more frugal but give us that feeling of running away from the city. Our city looks like a small town once you see the high rises, subways, trams and new ways to get around. Thinking in winter, our home may want to invest in sled dogs, guaranteed no one would miss work.

Spook had spent her holiday laying on beaches, taking walks and shopping. She had a bit more free time as we told her she was on her own for anything she wanted. I believe she also caught some evening shows and has a lovely tan. Her pointy hat was traded in for her sunhat and she is now in her regular attire.

Little one is reading her paper due at 9:30 am and I am working through logistics in my head to get her up and ready so I can have breakfast and coffee; always a feat, I laugh; fifteen more minutes she says.

I am ready suitcase packed, organized, and still waiting. I am now going to look for a coffee and see if there is a small adventure to partake in before we jump on our modernized version of teleporting.

As I venture to the coffee room, to sit and contemplate as I like to do, each morning, I have to laugh as the sun has returned today, no rain in the forecast and the fireplace is blazing. Regardless I choose to sit there.

It is comforting at any point as you listen to guests checking out, new ones arriving looking for assistance in the area and where they should go first, everyone is like little buzzing bumblebees; you can feel their energy, their excitement, their exhaustion.

I feel as though we are having our last meal and in some ways I am not looking forward to everything going home. I love my home, love Mr. Jones my challenge is will everything start again once back and gives me this sense of worry and stress.

I can feel the panic attacks taking over as the airport is packed with delayed flights and the most people I have seen. I begin to experience all the usual emotions from absolute panic, sweating, tearing up and trying to escape. No where to go if I want to get home.

I remind myself that faith is what I need, and will focus on the smallest item to help me remind myself life will be okay. Find the focus, redesign the future and make it wonderful.

Mr. Jones sends me more information on the economy and his line of work. I know he is stressed worrying about his future, and I too am. We have been working on a plan to make things beneficial regardless if he has a job or not, time to execute it and take some load off of us; it is time.

I picked up a yoga magazine at the store to release tight hips. As I am flipping through the magazine and working on stretches at the airport an article catches my eye. It is on navigating through tough emotions. I have to laugh as I read their opening statement.

Tapping into forgiveness, self compassion and dissolving walls around us. I think this will be the stretches I work on each day to see how they release those emotions. Can they somehow magically put them on the shelf or will they just be more embraced and easier to adapt to?

I am curious; as always my curiosity is where everything starts. When someone says they do not know or you can’t do that; my switch flips. Watch me, or I will find a way.

Today here is to finding the inner strength to hold myself together, the inner strength to not be angry over something I have no control with, the inner strength as I begin to relearn again.

“If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.” Buddha

Love always the stranded, stressed, yoga airport stretching, Woman in Process

 

 

 

Modest Travel

It is quite early, as I lay in the dark I am thinking about how I would love my day to materialize. From the positivity of energy from me and around me, to a great adventure, to meeting more people and building growth in relationships.

Last night I had the privilege to attend an evening event with little one. The destination was the awards event but the journey was the true gift. Along the way, I met another student in the same programming as her, and an amazing professor who feels like another one of the kindered souls I have been meeting.

It was an evening to remember, from seeing how they all flourish from this program, the conversations, the hype of it, the respect. It was like watching the conductor to a symphony bring those in to the same melody.

Each with their own flare and descriptive style, each with the goal in mind, each with ethicalness on the ride. I loved being part of it.

Ideas were tossed around, pasta’s were eaten and Merlot was consumed. I can see the vision of her destiny of my little one even more.

Todays journey was one we didn’t have any preconceived notions about and it turned out to be one of the most relaxing days full of amazing scenery.

We enjoyed our time and conversation together, sharing bowls of corn chowder soup while we sat outside in the overcast sky, watching the sailboats drifting by.

It was magnificent! From there we ventured with the hundreds of others looking for the history on Alcatraz.

The audio tour was so wonderful it was like a modern day podcast that you were experiencing. One of the best parts was the way you had to walk from room to room and feel like you were part of the Clue movie; I pretended I was Tim Curry.

Having Jolene Babyak there signing her books is an excellent gift for Mr. Jones. I am excited to take it home to him.

During my time away, Mr. Jones has been sending me the daily photos and I cannot believe how much the pup has grown. I cannot wait to see her tomorrow night, and get some puppy hugs and kisses. I hope she is not mad at me for going away.

I am always sad when our adventures come to an end but I also have such an appreciation of the ability to take these trips together. I will keep my umbrella and sunblock, in my suitcase prepped for the next trip; wherever that may be; one never knows.

“Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny space you occupy in the world.” Gustave Flaubert

Love always from the tired, shoe shopping, Woman in Process

P.S I love those flowers but have no idea what they are? Reminds me of a delphinium and lilac combined. Any idea let me know; wonder if it grows in zone 3?