Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do. ~ Benjamin Spock, Baby and Child Care, 1977

Since I am writing on my son's laptop tonite I don't have a picture to illustrate anything.  Which is probably a good thing because I am grumpy.  I mean it.  I think my grandsons could attest to that.  Well, they could have earlier but I got them in their pajamas and ready for bed a little past 7, then laid with them while they watched cartoons.  All it took was about 20 minutes and it was lights' out time.  We had one of those interesting days where I think all three of us wished we were with any other two people on earth besides the ones we were stuck with, haha!  We were all grumpy.  And after I got dinner out of the way and the dishwasher going, I sat on one of the couches with my Angry Birds game and ignored them unless it sounded like they were in the process of killing each other.  Then I stepped in to settle down the mayhem before returning to my game.  And at 7 I said, "Bed!" and neither one protested.  They'd been chasing each other around the living and dining rooms for an hour with their light sabers at warp speed and I knew they were ready.  I learned a long time ago that on days like these it's better to just let them run the orneriness out of themselves then spend my day saying "Don't do that" and "Don't kill your brother" and "What do you think you're trying to do?" until I'm blue in the face.  It drives me to the point of distraction so unless they're afflicting permanent damage on each other or knocking the house down around my head, why not just let them go.  They're not hurting anyone or anything.  And usually the next day they're good as gold.

Oh, if I'd only known 30 years ago what I know now.  Sometimes I think, "Oh, if only I'd had these two when I was younger to care for!" because my son and daughter were two of the easiest kids in the world to raise.  A couple of kids like them would be a breeze to raise now!  But I wouldn't have had the experience, the patience, that I have now.  The ability to know that this too shall pass on days when you think you don't have the energy or stamina to deal with one.  more.   minute.  When  "Gram, Cooper's going to bite me!" and "Grandma, I hate Dylan!" is all you hear every five minutes.  You just say, "Well, bite him back" or "Hate's a mighty strong word, Coop.  How'd you like it if he told you he hates you?"  No reaction...or a very mild reaction...does wonders with kids of Dylan and Cooper's caliber.  Takes the wind right out of their sails.

And so I sit here in front of my keyboard, wondering if when I read this sometime tomorrow morning it'll make a lick of sense to me.  Or if I'm ready to go crawl into bed, too, tho it's so blessedly peaceful and quiet I hate to let it go for the evening.  Maybe just a few more minutes, even tho it's getting kind of late for me.  It'll be worth the sacrifice when I wake up to find a little blond-haired moppet standing by my bed at 5 am saying, "I'm awake now, Gram."  But then again, I was able to talk him into climbing into bed with me this morning for an extra half hour.  Maybe I'll luck out tomorrow, too.

Hello!

I'm realizing a lot of friends and people I know from 'back home' are now reading my blog.  I don't have a clue how many or if any of you have a clue as to how to leave a comment if you'd like to say something about what you read so I'll give you a little tutorial here.  It's really very simple.  At the end of each post you'll see "0 told me what they're thinking".  If you click on that a pop-up window will open.  All you have to do is type in your comment...and hopefully your first name at the end of it so I'll know who you are.  Then click on "Anonymous" and then click on the "Publish Your Comment" button and you're done!   How easy is that!  I'd love to hear from you.  Blogging is very one-sided otherwise.

Success in marriage does not come merely through finding the right mate, but through being the right mate. ~ Barnett R. Brickner

I've never been a leader.  And yet I've never been a follower, either.  I've always forged my own path and never asked anyone along unless they choose to.    In my life I have a man who made that choice.  Dear Hubby's been with me for 37 years but for us it's been a road we've tread side-by-side.  No "boss".  No "subordinate".  Just a couple of people who've given living life its best shot.  And sometimes his ideas have been the better solution.  And sometimes mine.  Most often we come to agreements or compromises and it has worked very well for us.

What is marriage?

Well, it's kind of like taking a blender. First you add a huge dose of love.  Then you add to that another good helping of patience.  Then a cup or two...or ten, depending on the situation...of communication.  Those are the basic ingredients.  You push the button and whirl those around a bit, open the lid, and check it out.  Now it's time to add some spices.  Not too much, not too little...enough to make it just right.  You sprinkle it with tear drops, but only enough of those to help share the heartaches that come along.  Oh, and laughter...don't forget the laughter!!!  That will see you thru anything and help lift the load when the burdens of life get to be too heavy.  Then add a healthy portion of respect.  Another push of the button and then pour it out and store it in a safe place.  And when you're feeling dry and a little thirsty, take a drink from it and refresh yourselves.

If we would see others as they see themselves, our shyness would soon become compassion. ~ Robert Brault

Oh, the gaps in my blog.  I wrote about having Amy over but I overlooked Pat!  I was sure I wrote about her.  Maybe I did.  Maybe, in scrolling back a few posts, I overlooked a blog post about meeting her.  I dunno.  I am so overwhelmed at times I just don't know.  I thought I had.  Ha.

But I can't let meeting her go by without telling you about her as well.  We have been blog friends for a few years.  And somehow the knowledge that she also lives in Michigan kind of pfoooooped in one eye and out the other as I read it.  But she's a Georgia girl originally and that's where I have always thought she lived.  Michigan didn't even register.  In this roller coaster year that I've been experiencing I haven't had the time or energy to do much blog reading and hers has been on sort of a hiatus for the past couple of years....real life interrupting and things of that nature.  So we'd kind of drifted.  I think what got us in contact again was she'd come by my blog or on Facebook or somewhere and found out I now live here as well.  So she got a hold of me and I called her and we found out we only live maybe 25 or 30 miles from each other.  Dear Hubby was off for a short hunting trip so I invited her over for dinner on one of her days off.  And we also had a wonderful time getting acquainted.  There's just something about a couple of women curling up on opposite sofas with their shoes off that brings out the heart-to-heart talks that I love.  And that's exactly what we had.  And we plan on getting together again sometime soon, too.  I am looking forward to that as well.

When I am looking for potential friends, I'm not one who likes to skim the surface.  I like to get to know the inner person, to learn what makes them tick.  I've always had acquaintances galore, but the ones who I've drawn into my circle of core friends, true friends, who've been with me most of my life, are ones I feel a kinship with that goes deep.  Ones I trust.  And I don't trust easily.

I think both Pat and Amy fill the bill.  I just have that gut instinct about them.

 My grandson Dylan is not a boy of many words when it comes to telling you about his day.  I pick him up from school.  I ask, "How was your day?"  He says, "Good."  I ask, "What did you do today?" and he shrugs.  "Do you like school?"  I ask.  He says, "Yes."  I leave it at that.  The most I've ever gotten out of him voluntarily was, "Boy, that school stuff is really tough!"  and when I asked him why he let out a big sigh and said, "Cutting with scissors!  It's really hard.  I go up.  I go down.  And it doesn't look very good."  "Oh, well," I told him, "it will come with practice."  He looked at me the other day and he said, "Gram, are you a thousand?"  "A thousand what?"  I asked him.  "A thousand years?!  No.  Why?  Do you think I look a thousand?" and he said, "Yes."   Gotta love him.

Everyone should take lessons from that child on how to make friends, tho.

In his universe, no one is ever excluded.  No one ever gets past him without him saying hi.  No one leaves him without him telling them goodbye.  He makes sure everyone is included in whatever he's doing.  If we take him to a place like Java Jungle the kids there are soon following him all over the place like he's the Pied Piper.  And he's kind.  He's compassionate.  He's drop-dead funny.  He will not get into the car at the end of his day or head out to walk across the field towards home without saying goodbye to every child from his class that he can spot.  And when he comes out of school at the end of the day and I watch his eyes scan the crowd until he spots me, when I see his face light up and he comes running towards me and practically tackles me with a hug, I just look at him in wonder.  I can't believe this beautiful little boy with a heart the size of the world is my grandchild.

I am awed by him.

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Anaïs Nin

A photo from Dear Hubby's recent hunting trip at a lake near Holly, Michigan.  I love Fall here.  And it's over way too soon.  Many trees have passed their prime and are dropping leaves like snowflakes.  Others are still almost all green.  As this is my first Fall in Michigan I don't know...do they eventually turn color as well?  I know when we moved here in March just about every tree other than any evergreens were bare-branched.  And there aren't many evergreens in this part of Michigan.  But I'm clueless.  And I don't know what 99% of the various trees are here.

I have GOT to quit saying "back here" when I talk to people.  This afternoon as Cooper and I were walking to school to pick Dylan up we came abreast a middle-aged couple out for a walk and I struck up a conversation with them.  Again, I said something about "back here" opposed to "out in Portland" and the husband piped up and asked, "Oh, were you from here originally?"  Ai yi yi, lol!  So I told them about having that pointed out to me recently, that I refer to "back here" a lot in conversation, but it's been a 57-year mind set...everything east of Oregon is "back there" or "back East".  Unless you're referring to Idaho...which is "over in" or Nevada which is "down in".  "Up to Seattle".  "Down in L.A".  Argggghhhh.   There's a LOT of country between Oregon and the East Coast that has always been "back there" to me.  And now I am "back there" living "back here".  Enough on it already!!!

I don't know what kinds of changes are going on in me.  All I know is I feel I have a brand new lease on life since I've been here.  After decades of feeling pigeon-holed into a tiny little corner where I never was allowed to let the "real me" out to the world, I find myself just letting me fly.  I guess we get in our comfort zones, our daily life ruts, and we don't see the forest for the trees.  We get up, go to work, go to bed, and get up again..  But being somewhere so totally new, where I am totally unknown to anyone around me...well, it's not like I'm recreating myself exactly.  But I've found the true me again and my 'original' personality, the one the Good Lord let me be born with, has found a rebirth of some sort.  Once upon a time a million years ago I was a very outgoing friendly little girl.  I didn't know a stranger.  I loved people.  Loved getting to know new people.  A new kid would show up in class in my little hometown school and I was the first one to greet them and welcome them.

I'm not sure what killed that spirit in me.

But it was gone for a long, long time.  And I've missed it.  It's awfully hard to squelch something that is a natural part of who you are.  After being passed over, ignored, forgotten most of the time...never noticed...you finally just...give up.  And then you find yourself wondering why you allowed that to happen in the first place.  But sometimes there are many instances in life that come along where you lose your footing, your confidence, a time or two and then you begin to doubt yourself, question yourself.  And eventually lose yourself.

Not any more.

I was thinking on all this today.  And I was thinking about how much I've been enjoying opening up to people once again.  And wondering why...why...it took me so long to arrive here in myself again.  How many, many years I wasted being only half of who I really am.  Thinking maybe I don't have all that many years left to enjoy being me again.  And I came to the conclusion that at least I realized all this and did something about it.  I didn't just go on...existing.

Remember the lady I wrote about a couple blog entries ago? The one I'd met recently who I thought might become a friend?  Well, I took the bull by the horns.  Got a hold of her.  Invited her over to dinner last nite.  Had a wonderful time.  And you know what?  She is such a jewel.  And she is now my friend.

Oh, how much we limit ourselves when we hold back!  When we don't act on gut instinct and push ourselves out of our comfort zone.  How much we miss!  We really do!  I don't want the rest of my life to be like so much of my middle life was...where I was too timid...too intimidated...to reach beyond myself.  I'm finding a richness to my life I haven't experienced in years.  And oh my, does it feel sweet.

They must often change, who would be constant in happiness or wisdom. ~ Confucius

Sometimes, when I really get to thinking about it, the distance I've put between my hometown and where I live now pulls me up so short I get that hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, like when an elevator I'm on stops too quickly.  I think it's pretty safe to say the reality is I will never see it again in my lifetime.  Another one of those facts that hits me every now and then....well, more like at least once a day....and literally takes my breath away.  That I may never ever see anyone from my 'past' life face-to-face ever again.  Or that 2/3 of the United States sits between me and Portland.  That I live in the Eastern Time Zone.  That I live in Michigan.

I'm getting tired of writing about this.  I've been here 7 months now.  It's time to just settle down and write about the things I used to write about, like my aversion to phones and menopause and books and everything else I filled up 1500 posts on.  And yet, it always seems to come back to this.  Have any of the rest of you made such a monumental move for the first time in your life as you're approaching your Golden Years?  Is it because I was so settled in my comfort zone for so many many years that I feel like a kid in a candy store in my new environment, my new life, and each day as I awaken and realize where I am it blows me away?  I did this?!  Me?!  No no no...no way. 

Dear Hubby and I were talking about this yesterday.  It's been a big change for me, yes.  But it's been of epic proportions for him.  Talk about being settled in comfort zones!  He'd worked at the same company for 32 years.  He'd been the Supervisor there for 16 of them.  He knew his job inside, outside, and upside down.  He could've been blindfolded and found his way there.  He functioned on automatic pilot because of the sameness of his days.  And then we moved here.  He didn't even know where the new business he works for was located.  He knew zip zero nada about the type of business it is.  He didn't even know what he was supposed to do.  And he was 57 years old.  Since the first of March he's definitely learned a lot.  He's put his whole heart into learning it, into pulling his mind out of its sleep mode and compartmentalizing all kinds of new information that's coming at him from all directions.  And he says he's feeling truly 'alive' for the first time in years.  He's  coming home at nite and having the most vivid dreams.  So am I.  We've both been wondering why and I told him I think it's because both our brains are functioning on overdrive since we moved here.  So much new stuff to absorb, so many changes.  Our brains are so overstimulated they don't know how to shut off.

That's ok, tho.

Because in retrospect we both realize how much we were stagnating.  How much we were just going thru the motions.  Another day, another dollar so to speak.  Get up, go to work, go to bed...only to get up, go to work, go to bed.  We were in a rut, baby.

Well, we're in anything but a rut now.  Each day is a new adventure.  It's like we've come out of a long hibernation or something.  I don't have the words or ability to define it right.  It's like I've been given a new lease on life, I guess.  Like life has a freshness to it that I'd almost forgotten it had.  Like the joy of discovery I had as a child has been given back to me.  A rebirth.

Dear Hubby and I have never ever been wave-jumpers.  We've never done anything extraordinary.  Never bungee-jumped or rafted down the Colorado River.  We were the type of couple who'd come into the church we'd attended and sit in the same pew on every Sunday, for years.  We were steady.  Predictable.  Nice. Ordinary.  I know we shocked ourselves when we agreed to set forth on this life-changing adventure.  But I think we shocked everyone we know even more so.  We've had several friends tell us they admire the "guts" we had in embarking on this journey.  They tell us they admire us.  And many have told us they wished they could do the same thing, especially those around our ages.  Those who are into their humdrum existence, who are functioning on automatic pilot.

We both felt we've been 100% led by God to do what we've done.  We both feel we made the right decision and are right where God wants us to be at this particular time in our lives.  We feel God working on us in ways we don't have answers for but we have total confidence in Him and know He's leading us still.  There is great comfort in that knowledge.  I feel like Lots wife...."Don't look back."  And I don't.  I have no regrets.  And if I never see Portland or my hometown again?  Well, that's what a memory is for.  They're right here with me, and they always will be.

If I had to sum up Friendship in one word, it would be Comfort. ~ Terri Guillemets

Ah, friendship.....

I've been doing some thinking about friendship lately.

People tell us we've had a lot of "guts", Dear Hubby and I, moving 2400 miles from all that's been familiar to us our entire lives in the Pacific Northwest to Michigan.  We've left behind everything.  Our home of 28 years.  Our church of 35.  Family.  Friends.  A job of 32 years.  Familiar faces.  Familiar places.  Everything.

 In this mobile world, this mobile society, young people are globe trotters.  It's a big undertaking packing up all your belongings and heading out into the great unknown but it's more common for the younger set than it is for people of our age, crowding 60.  Especially considering we'd lived in the region our entire lives.  Neither one of us had ever been big travelers.  We'd never taken a cruise.  Never been to Hawaii.  We took a road trip once to Yuba City, California, when we were newlyweds to visit Dear Hubby's Aunt Norma.  Outside of that, we'd never been out of Oregon or Washington on a trip together.  Are you seeing a pattern here?  That we liked staying pretty close to home?  Dear Hubby was more apt to take off all over Oregon for hunting trips but I was content staying home and keeping the home fires burning.  I liked my nest.

And now here we are, living on the outskirts of Motor City.  Motown.  Detroit.  We have a beautiful little house here.  Dear Hubby makes a good living.  Our children are here also, as well as our grandchildren, which has been a tremendous blessing...we are each others' support system and at least some familiar faces.  Dear Hubby and I are very content and we love it here very much.  We plan on dying here.  One big move like this in our middle years is enough to last us the rest of our lifetimes.

With all that said, where do you begin in making friends?  It's almost like going out and starting over in the dating field after being married for 40 years.  You don't have to worry about the physical attraction part.  At least I don't care what a friend looks like...I dunno about you.  Maybe you love to surround yourself with beautiful people.  Eye candy.  Me, I look at the heart, the inner person.  That's what attracts me to a friend.  At the age of 57 I have a lot of history behind me.  Heartaches.  Joys.  Milestones.  Deaths of parents.  A happy marriage of 37 years duration so far.  I have friends 'back home' who go back to my girlhood, my childhood.  I have friends from my very first job out of high school.  I have church friends.  Neighborhood friends.  They're people who've known me for what seems like forever.  And I don't have to start from square one and 'define' myself.  They know me and they love me for who I was then and for who I am now.  I can relax.  I don't have to explain myself.  They know I'm a little....a little?!...eccentric.  They know I'm really goofy.  They know I'm loyal and true and I love them every bit as much as they love me.

But now.

Well, you can go and introduce yourself to your neighbors and you become very friendly and they bring you over extra fruit salad or talk to you over the back fence.  And that's very nice and that makes you feel very good.  It makes you feel like a part of the community, like you're accepted and they think you're nice and all that.  And for the most part that's all I require.  Plus I have my 'home base' of family and friends on Facebook and keep in daily contact on there.  Which is about all I had when we lived in Portland since I do full time day care for my grandsons and my life is so, so full.  So full.

And yet.

I love my daughter and daughter-in-law to the point of distraction.  I enjoy being with them and doing things with them.  And I do consider them friends but not....friends.  Not contemporaries of my generation.  Not someone I can sit down with and talk to about Woodstock and know they're traveling right back down Memory Lane with me and revisiting that time and place in their heads.  Someone I can talk woman-to-woman to...someone with adult children, empty nests.  Menopausal.  Women who have a few years of experience in living under their belts.  Someone who really, really gets me.

I've met someone recently who I think might fit into that category.  Someone very sweet and kind.  The lady I posted about on Facebook who told me at a gathering recently that she liked me the moment she met me...and I felt the same about her.  But where do we go from here?  Do I call her and invite her out to lunch on a Saturday?  Is her life so full already that she has no room for another friend?  Will my time and schedule limitations be too much for her to work around?  I always have the fear of the same thing happening to me that happened to a friend several years ago who'd come back to my church in Portland after being gone for many years.  She'd approached an old girlhood friend, hoping to re-establish that bond, only to have the other woman tell her, "I'm glad that you're back, but I have all the friends that I need right now."  Ouch.

Ah well.  I'm not my dad's daughter for nothing.  I'm game to reach out and I will.  And I will let you know where it goes from here.  Because I like people.  And I'm not afraid of reaching out, even if I get bruised in the process.  Bruises heal.

Woke up...fell out of bed...dragged a comb across my head.... " ~ 'A Day in the Life' by the Beatles

Good thing ya'll can't see me in the morning as I sit here waking up and taking the few uninterrupted minutes I have during the day to read my email and catch up on Facebook.  Trust me...it's not a pretty sight.

OK...can someone tell me where all the minutes in a day go?  I came here this morning and can't believe the last day I posted was on my daughter's birthday 12 days ago.  As I scanned down what I'd written it seemed like that had happened a month ago, so much has been crammed in between then and now.  A friend of mine mentioned recently, "Just wait until the next decade if you think time goes fast now!"  Yes, sadly, I can believe it.  Years ago as a part time job while my kids were still in school I was a companion 3 days a week for a lovely woman named Leona who was 96 and still living independently.  She told me at the time a day was like a vapor.  And she said the saddest part about living so long is that all of her generation had all passed away ahead of her except for one very frail cousin and she had no one left who'd shared her growing-up experiences.  But she fascinated me.  Her mind was still as sharp as a tack and talking with her was like listening to a living history book.  She could remember hearing the whistles and sirens going off that celebrated the beginnings of the 1900s.  She graduated from high school the year the Titanic went down.  She lived through two World Wars and survived the Great Depression.  I used to love it when she'd take out her photo albums and we'd sit down together on the couch and look thru them.  She lived to be 100.  And she lived to see some great-great-grandchildren born.

A local church had a Family Fun Fest this past Sunday afternoon and I took my grandchildren to it.  It was one of those glorious early-Fall days with sunshine and brilliant blue skies.  The boys got to slide down inflatable slides, ride ponies, pet all kinds of farm animals, ride on a trackless choo-choo train, have their first experience in eating 'rotten candy', as Dylan dubbed cotton candy.  They had the time of their lives.  I can't say the same thing for their parents.  My son and daughter-in-law woke up to a flooded basement Sunday morning.  The sump pump had failed and had no shut-off valve on it...it'd been installed by the previous owner...so the water just kept coming.  So getting the boys out of the house and out of their hair helped ease some of the stress of the situation.  Wouldn't you know it was something their insurance doesn't cover.  The home restoration people said they thought they'd saved the carpet but some of the walls are going to have to be repaired or replaced.  The joys of home ownership, and the unknown factors of buying homes in regions you know nothing about.

Even tho I'm so busy living it, some days I feel like life is passing me by.  All the little intricacies of each passing moment...the sameness of every day...the unexpected that pops up...the weariness at the end of the day...the excitement of each new discovery.  Life is such a mix, isn't it?  We never know each morning as we get out of bed what it's going to bring our way.  Some days I'm sure we're glad we don't know.  But isn't it a wonderful gift?  Isn't it something worth welcoming, the good and the bad?  It molds us into who we are.  It is the record that proves to us that yes, we're here.  Some days in black and white.  Some days in amazing technicolor.  And some days in shades of gray.