Finding the Right Fit

I ended up at this video in a rather convoluted way following a link from Champion of My Heart  to Patricia McConnel's blog  (I have her book "For the Love of a Dog") and then onward to the video. I uncontrollably sobbed my way through it. I'm a bit emotional right now.


I hope you enjoy the video. For me, I was just moved by this dog finding his place in the world. I hope I (and anyone else feeling a bit lost) can do the same.

Paddling Upstream

When my cousin and I were around 12 to 14 years old we paddled a rubber raft from the cabin all the way down the shore to the bay. When we turned to go back to the cabin, we were fighting waves and wind in a device that wasn't exactly built to cut through water. We tried jumping out of the raft and swimming, pulling the raft behind us. We were young and strong swimmers and thought we could do anything we set our minds to, but we couldn't beat those waves. We finally pulled the raft to shore and walked back to the cabin carrying the raft.


That's what I'm looking for right now. To find a way to leave the path that's beating me backwards and take a new route, one that may not be my first choice, but it gets me to my intended destination.


But I haven't figured out what that new route is yet. Heck, I don't even know what my destination is, which is what makes me feel like everything I do is so pointless. How can there be points without a destination? Or is it as simple as just finding joy in each day? I don't know, but I feel like I've been unmoored.


I looked up unmoored and in nautical terms it means "to bring to the state of rding with a single anchor after being moored by two or more". Pretty accurate.


But even without a set destination and despite what I said in my previous post, I will live to write another day. Writing is something I can't stop doing even if I tried. I may never be formally published, but I have enough readers that I still feel rewarded for my efforts.


I'm older now and it's not as easy to be a tough, pull myself up by my bootstraps kind of gal. The mind is willing to do and be just about anything I can dream of, but the physical stamina and strength just aren't there.

I'm pushing hard to get myself to lay some writing milestones down on a calendar that I can shoot for and that will help pull me though the beginning of 2010. I'm an expert at survival and when I see signs of dehydration and starvation, I find means of nourishment. That would be my friends, family, animals, and outdoor activities. And forcing deadlines on myself is akin to not allowing myself to fall asleep in the snow.


Speaking of snow, as much as I love winter activities, sunnier, warmer days are on my brain because of another plan taking shape for 2010. My brain has been perculating thoughts of what I would need to do to take a three week road trip next Spring or Summer.


I'm searching for a rack and container to fit my Mini that I could carry clothes and gear in so Java can have the space in the back of the Mini. I am looking at maps and trying to figure out a route that would take me through Colorado (hopefully meet a few bloggers in the area if I haven't frightened them too badly) and into New Mexico where I hope my sisters will come meet me. Maybe the Mini Cooper company would back me and fund my adventure...


I originally wanted to drive all the way to California to see my son and then my sister and also wanted to visit "Best Friends" sanctuary in Utah but I'm not sure I can do that much driving by myself.


I hope to stay at campsites along the way, and I'd like it to be some kind of 'meet and interview people and write about it' trip.


The venture that I'm dreaming of seems huge and a little scary. I don't want to bite off more than I can chew.


But it does give me something besides a man to fantasize about.

Warning - Negative Mood, Frustration, and Anger Lie Ahead

At this time of year, I am usually, like everyone else, thinking about what I want to accomplish in the New Year. But when I try to look forward in time, without someone to share the day to day stuff and the bigger hopes and dreams, it all seems pretty pointless. 


Being in the moment is what so many "experts" and "gurus" advise people to do. And it is a good way to live -- not trying to multi-task, check things off a "To Do" list, or see how many activities can be crammed into one day. 


Lately, I stare into space a lot. I read books. I walk. I pet Java and toss her ball. Then I stare into space some more. I don't actually get anything done that requires planning and steps to carry out, any kind of long term project, like writing a book. Because I can't stand to look more than an hour into the future.


I did run around to numerous stores, gathering information, checking out prices, until I finally put together my skiing and skijoring equipment. But still, that was pretty small and immediate. When I try to think about what I'd like to grow in a garden next year, all I can do is wonder where I will be living at planting time and that perhaps it will be another gardenless year. At the thought of "two" gardenless years, I somehow launch into feelings that life is passing me by and I'm going to be dead pretty soon, without a garden or a partner to hold my hand as I take my last breath. 


I try to think about planning a trip, but I don't know when I'll be able to travel. If the house sells in 2010, I might be busy the whole year with finding a place to live, packing, moving, and gutting out and remodeling the house I end up with, because from what I'm seeing for sale in my price range, they are pits that have been abandoned and are owned by the bank and they have descriptions such as "has potential" or "sold as is".


People think I should be excited about buying a new house and decorating it to make it uniquely mine. Well, I spent the first three months of 2009 making the house uniquely ours and loving the fact that it was finally done and ready to enjoy. So the thought of having to go through that again just makes me furious. In the mood I'm in about the whole house thing, I don't think there's a house on this planet that's going to do anything but piss me off. Sorry, but I have to be allowed to be angry sometimes, and finding some $%#@-hole house to live in by myself is the one thing that I'm having a hard time keeping cool and calm about. That piece of crap I'm going to live in is going to take most of the "big money haul" I'm getting from this stupid divorce I've been dragged through. 


I sure wish venting made me feel better. But it doesn't. I'm practical, after all, and yelling and screaming and swearing doesn't change anything. I'm still left with a situation that I can't twist into a wonderful new beginning no matter how I squint at it.


I looked back at the goals I had written for myself in January 2009 and surprisingly, given how 2009 seemed like a pretty trashed out year, I accomplished quite a few of them. I created a blog, learned to hitch and drive the horse trailer, went trail riding, learned how to make bread from scratch, and made new friends. Blah, blah, blah... you've heard this all before.


But I didn't learn how to can tomatoes because I didn't have a big garden; I didn't finish the rough draft of a book, although I did get a start before I gave up again; I didn't improve my golf game; and I didn't travel to a tropical place with H.


The majority of things I didn't accomplish had to do with my relationship with my husband. At the beginning of 2009 I was thinking that since the kids were done with college and I didn't have any current family illnesses or deaths to deal with, and my health was improving, H and I were going to finally have the time and resources and health to truly focus on us, travel wherever we wanted to, and start enjoying ourselves. H was making similar plans for 2009, unfortunately, they were being made with someone other than me in mind.


I keep saying I'm not going to keep looking in the rearview mirror. I've already done all the analysis I can possibly do and it's time to put that information to good use by thinking about the future.


But I want the same thing in 2010 that I wanted in 2009, someone to journey into the New Year by my side and do all those things that we would plan to do together. So I'm debating whether that's my main goal for 2010, to find that special someone out there. I know people tell me not to make "finding the man of my dreams" a goal as it will probably only lead to disappointment. It's funny how the people who tell me I don't need a man tend to be the people who are happily married, secure, and toasty at night in their beds with someone's arms around them. No, I don't NEED a man, I WANT a man.


I mean, what other goals are there for me to make? Finding a house isn't a goal, it's something I have to do like buying groceries to feed myself. To be a published author? That's been a goal for thirty years. Come on! Time to stop wasting my energy on that one. I don't have a career and I'm too old to get one, so no career goals. Diet and exercise? I don't need any special effort for either one as every day is filled with physical labor and it's no fun to eat alone so I don't eat much.


I need someone to share life and dreams and activities with. I never understood before how anyone could possibly be bored when there is always so much to do. Now I understand this plight completely. No amount or variety of activities does anything to alleviate how bored and unsatisfied I feel at this point in my life.  


So yes, that's the resolution for 2010 -- I will find a man. 


Everything else is just filler.

Christmas Gathering (a couple days late)

The snow finally subsided enough to make the trek to my cousin A's home to celebrate Christmas with her husband and their family today.


Cousin A and one of her daughters were making cookies when I arrived. Daughter A went with a sunny-side-up, sugar cookie design.

The great thing about getting together with my cousin is she treats me just like one of the family. So right away I was helping roll and flatten cookie dough.


I know it might sound weird but being told, "Here, wash this bowl so we can use it again" is like manna from heaven. Everything felt so homey and relaxed.


Dinner was delicious with beef roast (yum!) and shredded turkey meat, mashed potatoes and gravy, mashed sweet potatoes, roasted corn, broccoli, and a salad, And for desert, your choice of cheese cake, banana cream pie, sugar cookies, and peanut blossom cookies. 


I wish I would have taken more photos, especially of the after dinner fun of watching a few brave souls try their gift of jelly beans. These are not your typical jelly beans, although there are a few with flavors such as coconut, licorice, and blueberry. But most of them are scrumptious things like rotten eggs, baby wipes, boogers, and pencil shavings. You should have seen the faces when they chewed into the flavor of skunk spray! There was a lot of spitting and water guzzling. Do you think the people who create these things are chemistry majors? 


"So, John, what do you do for a living?" 


"I came up with this awesome formula that makes a jelly bean taste like vomit!"


Their mothers must be so proud...

An Ode to Endings and Beginnings

"When written in Chinese the word "crisis" is composed of two characters - one represents danger and the other represents opportunity."  -- John F. Kennedy

The reality of what my life has become and what it yet will be is a combination of pain and promise.


At this time of year, when everyone is busy with family and my own family is busy with family, and the snow has trapped me in the house, I have had a lot of time to sit and wonder how it's all going to turn out. 

Strangely enough, given how I've beat myself up wondering why my husband stopped loving me, I have never felt more comfortable in my own skin than I do right now.


I'm not perfect by any means, and I'm always working on things about myself I'm not happy with, like my shyness, but as one of my friends put it, "You're a good egg... You wouldn't have all the good, smart, strong women behind you in your corner if you were some shmoe loser."


Regardless of what H has done, he was my husband and I loved him. Recent years have been harsh but prior to whatever took over, there were many good and happy times. I've only recently begun to allow myself to see the bad stuff that I so often made excuses for, but still, I won't forget the good.


But I'm cleaning house because I need to make room for other people in my life. So rather than dwell on thoughts of H:


I think about the faces of those who have stood by me, propped me up, and cheered me on when I've felt lost and completely void of hope. Some people I only know by their blog names, but they, as well, have been a huge help in getting me through 2009.


And I think about how in the past year I've headed outside on foot, horseback, snowshoes, or skis when I felt like I was stuck and didn't know what to do next or I felt the silence and the lack of a life partner pushing me into a dark hole. But more and more, I do these things because they are fun and they make me happy.

I have Java to provide laughter in my life, to help me feel needed, and good or bad, she's my cuddle buddy for the time being.

Luke challenged my skills in 2009 and helped me feel brave and strong. We explored new places, saw beautiful scenes, and Luke ran with me on his back until my heavy spirit finally broke loose and I felt light again. Plus there was the whole sharing of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which is a bonding experience in itself.

I can't believe 2009 is drawing to an end -- but it is not the year everything ended as I believed at first.


In less than a week, it will be 2010, and if a judge gives the nod, I will officially be Maery Rose and I will be single again.


There will be all sorts of things to switch over to my new name, I'll need to get health and auto insurance, and I suppose there are other things to take care of but I don't know what.


Technicalities. 


The name change will be a reminder to me that it's not Maery Falling-on-her-face, or Maery Stuck-in-a-pit, or even Maery Rising. 


Maery Rose -- she is already on her feet and on the move.

Did Someone Say Snow Plow Service?

"That some good can be derived from every event is a better proposition than that everything happens for the best, which it assuredly does not."  -- James K. Feibleman



I'm watching a movie "Home for Christmas" about a woman that's living the good life until her husband decides to boot her to the curb and get engaged to a younger woman and the ex-wife ends up jobless, without health insurance, homeless and living in her car. Gotta love these Christmas specials. So heartwarming...


Ya know that snow I wanted? Well, we're getting it and then some.

I spent a couple hours hand shoveling the steps, a path to the bird feeder, and then plowing the driveway with the tractor. My shoulders are toast. The constant lever manipulation of the tractor bucket torqued my one good shoulder. And as the day wore on with opening and closing doors blocked by snow and ice, carrying water buckets, and unloading feed, I am sitting here with a heating pad, egg nog and brandy, and a bottle of ibuprofin. 


I'll be lookin' for a plowing service. But I'll probably still have to repeat the whole snow removal process all over again tomorrow since we're supposed to get 4-6" tonight and 4-8" tomorrow. It's questionable whether I'll make it to my cousin's for Christmas. We'll see.


Java is lovin' the snow. It energizes her (like she needed more energy).

Java's so cute with Luke.

Java is constantly burying her face in the snow and sniffing. When she comes up for air, she looks like this.

She has a bit of a snowball issue on her legs and feet.

I tried skiing around the pasture. I climbed to the top of a hill and thought I'd glide down it but with my legs buried up to my knees in snow, I stopped moving after a couple inches. I had to keep lifting my skis up to dump the snow off.


I decided skiing wasn't going so well but snowshoes were made for this stuff! And perhaps I could pack down an area to ski.

I walked the fence line, hoping it would be okay so I could let the horses out tomorrow and they could blow off some steam in the snow. They love to run in the powder as much as Java does. But I found this tree had fallen on top of a section. I may be Wonder Woman, but I'm not lifting that thing.

It started to get dark so no more skiing until tomorrow when the nice path I made will probably be covered up again.

Maery, You Are So Funny!

Ya know, lately, I have a lot of people laugh at something I've said and after they're done laughing they'll say, "Maery, you are so funny!" It's a little disconcerting when my comment was actually made in all seriousness.


But the latest person to say "you're so funny" to me was the woman cutting my hair when we decided to keep it a little longer and I said, "Yeah, that sounds good. My ears will stay warmer."


She thought this was hysterical. I guess when she suggested a change in style she was thinking it will be "cute", "fashionable". She even mussed my hair and gave me that "I just got out of bed look" that she told me was so in right now. 


But isn't that it in a nutshell, I'm so darn practical. Does being practical equal not being any fun? I don't think so. I think I am a complete blast!


I mean, look at this. Java and I are all rigged up for skijoring only I'm on foot; no skis for our warmup. Java is completely relaxed and waiting for the "Hike!" command.

She kind of has a tendency to start out by jumping into the air and sometimes doing a full twist in the process.

Followed by nose to the ground sniffing.

We have a great deal of work to do on-foot before she is any good pulling me on skis. I did hook her up and skied for awhile but the skis seemed to throw her off. She kept wanting to look behind her and then would get tangled in the line.


At one point, she saw one of her toys a few yards away and took off full bore, throwing me onto my butt. She did run back and lick my face apologetically. I was laughing too hard to be upset. Thank goodness for soft snow!

The funny thing about the cross country skis is that the technique is completely different than downhill but everything feels so familiar. I don't think I have the kick-glide motion down but it still feels like it was just yesterday, and not 25 years ago that I went skiing. The muscle memory is so there, which makes it totally fun! I feel like a teenager again! Okay, an achy teenager, but totally hip and energized none-the-less.

I skied down a hill and remembered how to snowplow. I climbed back up the hill. I even skated on the skis although I hit a patch of dirt and fell again. More Java licking, even though she was not the cause and wasn't even hooked up to me anymore. 


After skiing, Java challenged Luke to a soccer match. Murphy is completely ignoring the situation. He's not much into sports.

Java even let Luke have the ball. Luke just looked confused.

They had a discussion. Check out Luke's lips. I swear he was talking while Java attentively listened.

Then Java grabbed the ball and took off, tired of waiting for some action. 

I've been having so much fun getting outside and being active. It's a big part of how I've been able to take the events of the past year. So to help out my injured, aching body, I drink this stuff - a little Barley Life to get my daily requirements of fruit and vegetables, RevitalX to help with my irritated stomach, and tart cherry concentrate with stuff to promote healthy joints, regulate sleep and inflammation, and a banana to help it taste better. 

Doesn't that look yummy! I can hear you now, "Oh, Maery, you are so funny!"


I'm hoping you all have something a little more scrumptious planned for Christmas! 


Happy Holidays!

Please, Let It Snow!

I have cross country skis!


Well, first off, I have to confess that I unexpectedly took today off. I was going to go to work really early this morning because I had a hair cut appointment this afternoon but I knew I had too many things on my mind to be productive at work, whereas I knew I could get some therapeutic things done at home.


I had some really brown bananas laying round so I made banana oatmeal muffins. They were a low fat recipe until I threw in some dark chocolate chips that I had left over from cookies. Hey, dark chocolate is a total anti-oxidant and accompanied by oatmeal and bananas, those muffins are so darn good for you!

Then I washed some towels. I have read that you can dry stuff outside all year but I don't think things dry so well when it's cold. However, I am trying to save on gas and electricity because I would rather save my money to buy skis and kayaks. So my bathroom looks like this quite often.

I saw this cool some-kind-of woodpecker at the bird feeder. I was shooting through the kitchen window so the photo is not as sharp as I wish it was. I think he was more after pecking the wood feeder and railing than the bird seed.

Java was busy entertaining herself. Note that the ball that was on the tug toy is no longer there. She destroyed that thing in one day so I pulled the ball off and threw it in the trash.

I had to go to the feed store for horse feed.

Then to Fleet Farm for long thermal underwear, hand warmers, wool socks, and a sliding snow tube. 

I know the little kid on the Snow Dasher looks like she barely fits on the think but I was assured it was really adult size. We'll see. Anyway, I think I am totally ready for an upcoming sliding party. Yee! Haw!

Then I got my hair trimmed and beautiful for Christmas and New Years Eve.


Then for the finale -- drum roll please -- I got my cross country ski package. I went with the classic skis and got the stiffest boot I could find, which was a Salomon, to help with any sudden turns Java might try to take. I already skied around the house in the dark with Java running loose with me. I don't know what they are talking about that you have to have a groomed trail. Although maybe to get some smooth gliding you do. I don't have the rhythm down yet but it was a blast!


As for Java's skijoring training, last Sunday, I took her to the park to get her used to the feel of the harness and line and myself used to the feel of the tugging on the belt. I did some snow jogging behind Java to get her to move. She did a lot better than I expected, actually pulling quite a bit, but I did have to yell "On By!" a lot when she kept wanting to stop and sniff paw prints and trees. She's got a basic understanding of the "whoa" (stop), "line out" (stand with line tight) and "hike" (go) commands. 


I can't wait to put it all together! Being coordinated enough to take any photos might take awhile -- maybe some non-moving ones.


p.s I turned on the new Blogger editor and when I publish I get this quirky spacing. It doesn't look that way when composing so I don't get how to fix it. Anyone? Also, because of spam, I've had to turn on the "type the scrambled word" thing, which I had turned off because some people couldn't post with it on. Let me know if you run into problems.

Conflicting Emotions

Crazy, busy day. I'm never ready for Christmas and this year is no different.

I wrote my Christmas cards last night and wrapped a present for my son, so the key thing to get done today was make a trip to the post office. I was dreading that, knowing how busy it would be. So I tried to go early, but I needed to bake some bread and wash sheets and hang the sheets out on the line (it was up to 22 degrees today, surely they would dry).

I found a parking space at the post office so that was a good sign. The line was long but everyone was full of Christmas cheer, except maybe the postal workers. But we all stood in line and watched people get their photos taken for passports, including one little baby that couldn't even stand yet; and found out where people were traveling to, warm places of course; and who it was that lived out of town that people were sending packages to; and we all agreed that every year we say we're not going to wait until the last minute but we always do. Everyone was so friendly we were practically on hugging terms by the time I left.

I ran to a couple different stores for a few grocery items (good thing about winter is you can get groceries and not worry about getting them home right away) and to try to find pants that fit me. It took three stores to find one pair of jeans and a pair of brown corduroys. I'm not sure why I'm so hard to fit. I have to hunt through many brands of size 4's (a size they don't seem to carry a lot of anyway) before I find one that's long enough and doesn't have a waist that's too big.

I visited three stores looking for cross country skis. I've been getting conflicting advice about what's needed for skijoring. First I was told I should go with the classic style ski. Then I was told I MUST use the skating style but they didn't have any boots my size and don't expect to get any more in because the manufacturers are way behind in production. Huh?

From what I read, I can use either style, it just depends on my preference and how fast I want to go. Since my skiing experience has been downhill and I've done a lot of ice skating, the skating style would probably be more familiar to me. But they are more expensive, harder to find, and I think there are more limitations as far as what trails you can go on. So I'm somewhat confused at the moment.

Because Java was with me through all these errands, laying patiently on her doggy bed in the back of the Mini, we had to make a stop at PetSmart so she could go nuts over the dogs and people and toys and bones. It was like having a little kid in Toys R Us! She managed to talk me into buying her a bone and a tug toy, since her old tug toy is pretty chewed up. However, the ball on this one is already falling apart.

Something has been kind of weird lately. It doesn't make any sense and makes even less sense when I try to explain it to someone. At the same time that I've been feeling so sad and frightened, I've also felt happy and excited. How can that be?

I just know that I'm enjoying myself more. I've become quite a talker - cashiers, other customers, just about anyone that makes eye contact. Not because I'm desperate to talk to another living being, like you might be thinking, but just because I want to share a smile, compliment the lady in front of me on her Christmas pin, or show the poor cashier a little sympathy for the difficult customer he just had to handle.

Last week I watched a bunch of little kids and some rather big, elderly kids get their photos taken with Santa and got a good laugh out of it. Things have slowed down. I notice more and enjoy what I notice.

I expect I have things that are coming up that are going to hurt like hell. Some of it is confusing and intimidating, and at times I see myself dangling from a cliff while someone stands above me stomping on my fingers. Still, as much as I would prefer to not be getting divorced, there are things that have happened since H left that would have never happened if we were still together - driving the horse trailer, trail riding every weekend, meeting new friends, deepening my existing friendships, reacquainting myself with my cousin, getting a good start on writing a book (which I will finish, by the way), finding a new church and joining the choir, and getting into this whole cross country skiing and skijoring thing. And I have so much more planned for next year.

Some people might say I'm getting stronger, but I think it's more that I don't feel alone anymore. I've got so much love and support in my life right now. I guess I feel a lot braver and optimistic because of that.

Two More Bottles of Wine

I had mediation with my husband and our attorneys yesterday. Nothing unexpected, well, maybe a little unexpected.

It's hard to be the person from the marriage who is still so emotional about it. Who is still hurting. It's hard to see 10 years of your life suddenly turn into a bunch of numbers. To have the calculators clicking and the figures thrown out there like it was just nothing but property and accounts. To have his attorney repeatedly say with exasperation, "We just want to get this over with."

Over with? I'm not sure when this will be "over with" for me.

I need to stop looking for the man I married, just searching for a final glimpse. I'm not sure why I do this. I can't find him. He only exists in my memories and even those need to be put away, at least for now.

I know that's how divorce is, but that doesn't make it any easier to see your love, your time, your commitment, everything you put into that relationship, all your hopes and dreams turned into numbers on a piece of paper.

Another point in the mediation that really got to me because my emotions got mixed in with it was my old house. I bought that house before I met him, when I was a single Mom. I'd lived with my own Mom for about 7 years before I had enough money to put towards that house. It meant so much to me to do that on my own. Yet in divorce, it turned into everything he put into it during the two years we lived there after our marriage. God, that hurt. A lot. But I guess I have a chance to do the house on my own again now. Hopefully, it will be a joyous experience like it was back then.

I left mediation in a daze, spent 30 minutes walking around in freezing temperatures because I couldn't find the parking ramp I was in, and on my drive home suddenly looked around and panicked because I didn't recognize the road I was on.

I was actually almost home, it's just that nothing looked familiar. I guess it's a brain reaction to feeling like I don't know where I am, who I am, or where I'm going.

I used to sing and play piano to this old Emmylou Harris song many moons ago. It was one of my favorites to perform because of the piano solo and the gutsy voice you can put into it. It has new meaning for me now.

"The way he left sure turned my head around. Seemed like overnight he just up and put me down. Ain't gonna let it bother me today. I been workin' and I'm too tired anyway. But it's all right..."

Or it will be, even without the wine.

Cookies!

Today was the big day. Cousin A was coming to my house to whip up some Christmas cookies. Well, neither of us are exactly experienced Christmas cookie queens so we had a few "live and learn" moments but they all ended up tasting good and that's what matters. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Rather than buy my ingredients well ahead of time like smart, well-organized people do, I got side-tracked with the looking at skis, kayaks, sleeping bags, and so on at Midwest Mountaineering so I had to run to the grocery store this morning.

But first I had to feed the horses and fill the water tank. And as long as I had my outdoor gear on, I hauled saddles and bridles in from the horse trailer to the mud room in the basement where I'll clean them and keep them inside for the winter as the cold dry air does bad things to the leather.

Then I had to admire the sunrise.

And I baked a couple loafs of bread, one to give to cousin A.

At 8:00 I ran to the grocery store. Got things set up in the kitchen. Then went to church.

When I got home, Java wanted to know when A was going to arrive. She was tired of waiting.

She kept looking longingly out the window.

When my cousin did arrive, Java kept shoving her ball into cousin A's leg, trying to get her to play catch. She (Java not A) finally plopped down, right in front of the stove.

I got an angel cookie cutter and a pony puzzle from my cousin. I've already used the cookie cutter of course. Can't wait to work on the puzzle. It's for ages five and above so I should be able to handle it.

Cousin A did find a krumkake iron so she was rarin to go on those. However, she soon discovered that making these things is a pretty futsy, delicate, slow going process. Oh yeah, and can you tell my house is a bit cold? Hey, I turned the thermostat up to 68 degrees just especially for company!

We had cookies going all over the place.

I was TRYING to thinly roll out the sugar cookie dough but it was sticking like crazy to the plastic cutting board. I also tried rolling it with wax paper both under and on top of the dough but it still seemed to stick. Sprinkled flour wasn't helping either.

So I ended up with some really thick sugar cookies that expanded exponentially so my angel cookie looked pregnant and Santa, well, I know it's a Santa cookie but no one else will guess that. I ate the angel to hide the evidence of any wrongdoing.

Mistakes didn't really matter as the main point of baking cookies was for my cousin and I to spend some time together. I'm surprised we didn't mess up any recipes with all the talking we did while we were measuring and mixing. It was a great way to spend the day!

And aren't they pretty?

Skijoring We Will Go (eventually)

I've been very busy this week. I actually went out to dinner with friends two evenings in a row. Gasp!

Today, Java and I tried to find some Christmas presents for people in obscure little stores because I can't stand the crowds. I am still doing horrendously on the gift hunt.

So in frustration, Java and I selfishly went to Midwest Mountaineering and Java got to hang out with the customers, got fitted for a skijoring harness and line, and got a doggy treat every time she sat nicely and didn't jump at people.

I didn't get a skijoring belt for myself because it was going to add $40 more to the gear. The guy who helped me was extremely nice. He gave me a clip to connect the skijoring line to whatever I can rig up for a belt. Maybe a fanny pack?

Java looking suspiciously at the rigging.

Anyway, I'm already struggling with having Java get used to the feeling of the line running to the ring on her back and getting her to walk straight in front of me. It's almost like she doesn't trust me behind her...

But we were trying out the harness and line in the house and she might be more enthusiastic and forward moving outside. Gosh, looking at the photo below, I realize I should have gone for some color on the harness for my little diva.

I worked with Java on the forward and whoa commands this morning, plus we threw in a spin command, which won't be useful for skijoring but looked fun when I saw it on the Champion of My Heart blog. Java did much better picking these commands up than I expected.

Java also got some boots for her paws that she tries to take off as soon as I put them on. I just bought very cheap lightweight ones to get her used to having something on her feet. And like the harness, they are black so it will be hard to notice if one falls off.

I imagine I'll need boots with more grip and insulation eventually. The ones I bought will only help with keeping the snow from clumping between her toes.

Now I just need skis, boots, bindings, and poles for myself. That's all...

Aging in the Country

I haven't been following the news lately. I stopped my newspaper subscription because the paper always seemed to go in the recycling bucket unread. I don't watch TV news because the only thing I watch is a few programs that I record and view while I'm exercising. And I rarely listen to the radio so I don't catch the news there either.

So I'm pretty much in the dark about Tiger Woods, Health Care Reform, and I have no idea what a Czar is beyond what I overhear people discussing at work. I get the New York Times headlines e-mailed to me every day but I've just been deleting them unread.

But last week I decided to come out from under a rock and check out the headlines. And what kind of article catches my eye? "For Elderly in Rural Areas, Times Are Distinctly Harder".

The New York Times article contains the stories of some very gutsy folks. There's a lady named Norma Clark who at 78 fell and broke her hip in 3 places while out by the horse corral. She somehow tied her legs together to stabilize the injury, managed to stand up and close the gate, then spent 3 hours dragging herself 40 yards across mud and snow to the house. Once there, she didn't call 911 but instead called her daughter to come feed the horses. People who love their animals are something else.

I've had a little bit of exposure to what happens to the elderly that have to leave the farm.

There's a man down the road that had all his things auctioned off this past fall. I met him about five years ago when he wandered to our house, I believe out of loneliness. And from the way he talked about his horses and his escapades with horse training, I know he loved those animals dearly. Yet, a couple years ago, this same man ended up in the newspaper for "abusing" his horses. I believe he just could no longer take care of them, and either didn't realize how badly their hooves had grown out or was too proud to ask anyone for help. The sad part of that is that no one living nearby either realized what was going on or did anything to help beyond reporting him for animal abuse.

There was a woman that sat at my Mom's meal table at the nursing home. She was a tall, big-boned woman with the largest hands I'd ever seen on a female and they were good, strong hands, not like my Mom's who's hands were so badly deformed from rheumatoid arthritis she struggled with holding her utensils. The farm girl, with her long silver braid hanging down her back, often helped my Mom cut her food or open packets.

This woman had lived on a farm until she couldn't anymore and ended up in the nursing home. She was 100 years old and still sharp, still getting around with her walker. But that ended one day too and I didn't see her anymore but heard her crying piteously in her room for someone to please take her home.

The elderly in the article talk about being faced with the decision of leaving the home and the life they've known for so long, with all its sweet memories and familiarity, to go live where they don't want to be because they can no longer go it alone, so far from the services they need.

But it's not just rural folks that struggle with losing a way of life. I know many people in the nursing home had to give up their pets and missed them dearly. I can't even imagine how awful that would be.

I think we need to do better by our elderly. If for no other reason than the selfish one that we're going to be there someday too. Although, I hold out the hope that I will always live independently. I have an uncle who must be about 92 and is still driving, living in a townhouse, and is taking a trip to Ireland next year. I'm hoping I'll be like him.

Wintery Words

Verlyn Klinkenborg writes a column for the New York Times. In the piece that appeared last week, he wrote about the wind in a way I thought many of you could relate to:

"By evening, even the horses were weary. They had been blown about all day as though they weighed a few ounces instead of a thousand pounds apiece. A tree cracks in the distance and they trot, alarmed, across the pasture. A whirlwind of leaves twists past, and they race away from it. The corner of a tarp gets loose, and off they go. They transmit this anxious energy to me, undiluted. I prefer the way the pigs and chickens react. In a high wind, the pigs snooze together at the back of their house, straw pulled over their heads. The chickens sit on their perches, knitting and doing their accounts."

The part about the horses described well how my two were acting today as snow fluttered down and the wind rattled the barn door and scraped the trees across the tin roof.

Klinkenborg's description of animals and the landscape is a talent that a covet. Maybe someday, if I put in enough hours writing, I'll be able to write paragraphs like his. I guess we all have our own voice, our own writing style. I don't want to exactly copy someone elses. But I do admire such talent.

These columns for the New York Times have been published for quite some time. Some are compiled into a book called "The Rural Life" and are arranged by the seasons.

There is a chapter called "December" in which Klinkenborg writes,

"In late December I feel an almost painful hunger for light. The open woods, bereft of leaves, and the snow itself feel like a kind of appeasement, a way of making amends to my eye for the almost grudging tread of the sun across the sky. That hunger is what makes the detail of the natural world so precious now. Pale green lichen on a tree trunk has all the power of a daylily in bloom."

This makes me think of the photos I took recently trying to focus in on the details of the trees in contrast to the general brownness that is our current landscape. Well, was our current landscape anyway. There will be a new white world to greet me tomorrow morning when I let the horses back out of the barn and feed them their morning hay.

The reason I'm rambling on about Klinkenborg is that I sometimes will take a sentence written by a writer I admire and build my own piece out of it as a kind of writing exercise. And that's what I did today with a sentence from Klinkenborg's December essay. If you like to write, why not give it a try yourself?

"In late December I feel an almost painful hunger for light"

Not the Energy Star compact fluorescent light that allows me to make my way through my shadowy house or the greenish glare that makes us all look so pasty and sick at work. No, I want the full fledged, need my Ray-Bans, ricocheting up from the whiteness of the snow, sunshine.

The only opportunity to break my fast from sunlight during the week is if I venture outside of work at lunchtime, a daring experience given the cold and I've become much too budget conscious to eat out anyways. Weekends are the best opportunity to get out and gather up some vitamin D, that is, unless there is so much cloud cover that you really aren't sure if it's truly day.

I long to turn on every light in the house and crank up the heat in a vain attempt to emulate a beach house in Cozumel. Alas, only one light is on, which is in the room where I sit, and I am dressed in thermal underwear, turtleneck, sweater, covered with a blanket, and wearing my fake Ugg boots, trying to stay warm with the thermostat set to 60, which is warm compared to what it's set to at night and when I'm not home.

Maybe I need to learn to embrace the darkness during these winter months by enjoying the twinkling rainbow of lights that frame houses and trees as I drive towards home. And feel the safe, snugness of my house as the wind clangs the loose gate outside my window and howls as if imitating a pack of wolves.

I turn on the outside light and watch the snow gyroscope in the intruding glow, the wind lifting and circling the flakes, making it look like they will never be allowed to touch the ground.

Haunted Hay

Okay. You explain this photo. I think the hay I bought is haunted.

It could be the whole eery moon thing.

H helped me load and unload 80 more bales so I now have 100. Sigh of relief. My arms, they are aching today, and I ended up with a weird bruise circling my wrist. I must have gotten hung up or squeezed between something. Funny how when you are busy doing something physical you can end up with the hugest bruises and not have a clue how you got them. I know the knob on the top of my head is from standing up on the hay in the back of the pickup truck and having my head collide with one of the beams. Ouch!

Temps are now dipping into the single digits but staying above zero. Java likes the resulting poopsicles. She grabbed one out of the paddock and proceeded to gnaw on it. It's a doggie dreamsicle!

I had to convince Java that branches are much better.

The Christmas tree is up. Java has only chewed up two felt decorations so far.

And a few other decorations are out. The manger scene belonged to my adoptive parents.

Next weekend I'm hoping to get together with my cousin and make Christmas cookies. Cousin A wants to make krumkake but doesn't have an iron. Any of my local people have one I could borrow or know where to get one cheap?

I dug out some of my adoptive Mom's recipe notebooks. I found a sugar cookie recipe. Mom always either titled the recipe with the name of the person who gave it to her or put the name next to the recipe title. It's fun looking through these old notebooks and seeing all the familiar names of neighbors, relatives, and friends.

I also want to use this recipe for chocolate wafer cookies, only I usually top the cookie with a chocolate kiss rather than a mint wafer.

As I was paging through the notebooks (there are several), I saw "Mock Chow Mein I Made for Judds Shower", "Aunt Minnie's Cupcakes", and "Crunchy Ras'n Rhubarb Cake" with a comment of Delicious! written next to it. Next time I need to bring something h'ordervish, I'll have to bring my personal favorite "Helen's Wings in Wine" which is made with white wine, soy sauce and sugar and baked for 3 hours at 250 degrees. The recipe calls for 70 wing pieces. It's kind of a mess to make and to eat but it is way good!

Only 19 days until Christmas!