Summer Gifts

August 28 – Charlie and I went for a walk this morning at the school down the road. The athletic fields are enclosed by fence so when no one else is there I let Charlie run. He is so beautiful and shows such joyful abandon when he is running free and exploring. It never fails to make me smile. I try to take him somewhere for a walk every day. The other day we drove into Portland and walked around on Mount Tabor. There are so many memories there for me, painful but good -- life as it was but no longer is.

It is an incredibly beautiful morning. The sky is clear except for clouds low on the northern horizon. These late summer mornings are almost mystical. There is a peacefulness, a quiet, even here just a block or two from the freeway.

It seems that whenever I am feeling mired in self-doubt, am lonely and on the verge of despair about my life, my future, God sends me gifts like today. The beauty of this morning was God’s way of telling me, in no uncertain terms, how loved I am. I am given a sense of peacefulness about my life, an understanding that this is how it should be for right now, and that all will be well.

God sends me friends who say or do just the right thing to remind me that I am not alone, that I am cared about, that life is worth living, that each day promises some wonderful gift if I look for it and embrace it with open eyes, open arms.

God sends me a flock of geese flying low over the trees to admire and marvel at, to remind me, both of the importance of friends, and that the cozy seasons are coming. Even if the only one I have to cuddle with is Charlie, I will be home, in my house, with my fireplace and a kitchen. I can make soup or bread or tea and be cozy and warm – while I work on my book, or paint, or write.

But for now the days are still warm and languid; no nip in the mornings yet; but that will come soon. The bees are heavy but continue to work what flowers remain. They somehow know their time is drawing short – both for stocking the larder for winter to feed the queen and for their own life.

This is the time of fulfillment for plants. Grass seeds are mature, fruits are ripening and beginning to drop to the ground. Part of my back yard is decorated by gravenstein apples that have dropped. They are wormy and rotted. There is nothing to salvage, not enough fruit even to make applesauce. Just messy. The tree on my back line is very large and very old. It needs to be pruned and that is one more thing on my list. I hope I can get help with that – it is not something I am willing to tackle on my own.

I cleaned my gutters for the first time this week, probably the first of many times I'll have to do it this fall. The maple tree that dominates the middle of my yard is beautiful but, once again, very large and very old. (The photos don't do it justice b y a longshot.) Its leaves fill the gutter even now, before they have begun to turn and drop in earnest. Even after cleaning, there is a spot where the joints leak, right above my back door. I looked at caulk the other day but didn’t know which to buy.

I did, however, successfully repair the coffee table I bought a few weeks ago. One of the legs had apparently broken loose, been glued and then nailed into the top. It was not a good fix and I wish I had noticed it before I paid for the table. I removed the nails and retrieved the bolt so I could buy something to replace it that would hold. I was finally able to find what I needed, with a lot of help from a clerk, and put it back together while watching the Democratic National Convention on television. Viola!

Being able to fix something that someone else had messed up gives me a feeling of success and accomplishment. Maybe that’s what challenges are for – to give us an opportunity to succeed. To prove to ourselves that we can do it.

Work continues on my fundraiser scheduled for October 4. I have been disappointed by the lack of positive feedback from most of the people I have asked to help. But just recently I have gotten suggestions and offers to help from a few friends. It will happen and it will succeed – just one more challenge to meet. But it may be the last time we do this event. People just aren’t interested in helping and I can’t do it alone.

I continue to think very much about my book and what I want to say. I spent the better part of Tuesday getting my office sorted and straightened out in preparation for working on it. I’ve had time scheduled on my calendar this week to work on it. Now I just need to do that. I know if I just sit down the words will flow. I just need to motivate myself to sit down and start. I think I can, I know I can.

I have been reading a book written by a woman who – with her husband – spent a year traveling in a motorhome. Checking out the competition. There is such a world of difference in our perspectives and outlooks. She didn’t want to go on her trip; and she had no intention of doing anything helpful like driving or hooking up. She didn’t even cook or do laundry. Just whined. While it is funny in places, it isn’t uplifting or even particularly interesting to me. But then, my trip had a completely different agenda. There were hard parts, frustrating parts, funny parts – in retrospect. But also many, many good parts. People like her I’m sure think I was crazy; sometimes I think that myself. But I’m glad I did it, even though I still can’t see clearly why or what I accomplished. I supposed THAT I accomplished what I did is enough for now.

A Late Summer Morning

The sky a brilliant, breathy blue with
wisps of feathery clouds, I walk through
cool morning air filled with the scent of Blackberries.
Fat and juicy, they hang heavily from thorny vines,
smelling of sweet lusciousness,
promises of heaven.
But I know better than to reach for one;
the sharp memory of pain keeps my hand still.
Too many times, eager to taste the ripe sweetness,
I have imbedded
a tiny barb in my finger.
Grasses rise tall, waving their heavy heads
of glorious tresses, their seeds,
ready to scatter and carry forth the next generation.
A squirrel watches as my dog and I pass.
Charlie does not see it.
Movement is easy to detect; stillness not so.
It is the day after my 58th birthday.
Perhaps my life, too, is reaching late summer.
Perhaps it is time to put forth the fruit of my life,
to pass along, for any who care, the seeds sown in my heart.

Late August Storms Bring Rain, Reflection

After a weekend of temperatures in the high 90s up to 100, this week has been cloudy and cool and rainy. My air conditioner needed a break and the lawns and trees all needed a good drink of water.

Charlie went outside last night and returned with muddy feet which he immediately planted all over my new expensive cream-colored rug in the living room. I did my best to clean up his pawprints and will have to figure out what to do when the fall and winter rains start in earnest. Do I cover it up to protect it? But then I don’t get to appreciate the reason I bought it in the first place.

My kitchen floor is mostly done -- thanks to my son Karl coming by last weekend and spending several hours both Saturday and Sunday. It looks good, I think. There are still some little places to patch and the molding needs to go up but I can almost check that off my list of To Dos.

The weather gives me a little premonition of the upcoming fall and winter. I have always loved the idea of getting ready for winter, the coziness of being snug and warm and safe. This year for the first time in a long time I will have a fireplace to curl up in front of, as long as I go out and find some firewood. While I love the idea of fall and winter approaching, there is also a melancholy, a deep sadness that comes with this time of year. That is exacerbated by my aloneness and by the sense that my life -- like the year -- continues its inexorable travels toward some unseen conclusion. Time is passing and I am getting older and there is a sense that I haven’t fulfilled my purpose of being here or even really figured it out.

And I will be honest: being in this house for the first time facing winter, and being alone, scares me a bit. I don’t know what to expect from the heat system, the electrical system, the roof, drainage. The huge maple in the back yard could come crashing down during an ice storm. Not to mention my own finances that feel too insecure. I feel very vulnerable and very much in over my head sometimes.

Part of me, I think, is still waiting and longing for my “knight in shining armor” to come riding into my life and rescue me, to take care of me. But I know that won’t happen and I need to keep reminding myself that I am responsible for me, my life, my finances. I am in charge and need to take charge.


In two days I will celebrate my birthday; or rather, I will observe it. I don’t think you celebrate at this age -- until I reach 59-1/2 and can then access my IRA, anyway. That’s still a ways off. Maybe the market will turn around by then?? But my birthday is another day to remember how different my life is than I imagined it would be. I recall a couple of times that John didn’t remember my birthday, but there were many birthdays where I felt greatly appreciated and loved and was treated as a special person. My birthdays have become especially hard since he died. This always follows closely on the heels of our anniversary and his birthday in July.

There are times -- and today is one of those -- when I still wonder what hit me. Days when I think -- or hope -- that this is all a very long, bad dream and I will wake up and will have learned better how to appreciate what I had in John. It will be five years this October, and still I have too many moments of questioning why and wishing things were not this way.

It is tempting to just chuck it all, to submit to sadness and hopelessness, to submerge my sadness in unhealthy ways, to find ways to bury the pain. But I know that anything I do to avoid dealing with the dark days really only makes it worse. The only way out of these struggles is to meet them head on, with my chin up, leading my own cheers.

Thankfully there are also many days when life seems like a grand adventure and I feel that I can handle any challenge. Part of that, I think, comes from meeting the challenges of the past 16 months of traveling. It’s just a matter of not giving in to the difficult times and understanding that these, too, shall pass. It’s a matter of looking forward with hope to new experiences, meeting new people, spending time with old friends and loved ones who have added so much to my life.

Settling In, Slowly

August 15, Milwaukie, OR -- In the last couple of weeks I have been busy with visits from sisters, and to sisters, and up to Yakima for a family reunion. Charlie has enjoyed the hustle and bustle, the comings and goings. He loves company -- more victims who can be coerced into petting him.

My older sister Colleen and her husband came by in early August for a quick visit on their way up to Lake Kachess up off Snoqualmie Pass. Her husband’s family has an annual reunion there in early August. The following week they came back down to Portland and spent several days here.

We had the grand tour of Ikea, which opened this past year but I haven’t yet had the courage or energy to visit. So this was a good excuse to check it out. It was good to look at some of their kitchens and see what I might be able to do with mine.

Then we drove over to the Oregon Coast for a day. We wandered along the beach, had lunch at Mo's, shopped a bit in Cannon Beach, though it was very busy, especially for a Wednesday. Then we drove down to Hug Point to “visit” our mom and dad, whose ashes were scattered there at their request.

On Thursday they drove up to see Mt. St. Helens while I took care of some things here in Portland. Then we met Karl and Dee and Jesse for a late dinner.

Saturday morning I drove up to Yakima for our first-ever family reunion on my dad’s side. My dad was the oldest of four, having three younger sisters. There were a total of 25 of us cousins. One of our aunts is still alive so it was great to see her and hear some old family stories. About half the cousins grew up down here in Vancouver and since there were 12 of them and six of us, we rarely traveled back and forth. Now most of them live in the Yakima area and I live down here. Other cousins grew up in Seattle and were quite a bit younger than me. It was great to see people I haven’t seen in many years. I remember their names; I just don’t recall what order they came in after the first three girls, who were closest in age to me. Needless to say, I didn’t recognize more than a couple of them. But it was fun and I hope we can do it again.

When I returned to Portland on Sunday, my younger sister, who now lives in Medford, came to up for a visit. She had meetings in Portland on Monday. Then Tuesday my brother and I drove down to Medford with her to see her new home (her first house) and take in a couple of plays at the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland. Charlie got to go along with us since my dog sitter, Tom, was with me. It was a little challenging for Charlie since my sister has a cat that we had to make sure Charlie didn’t get too close to. Fortunately it worked out okay. At least both pets survived the encounter. Tom and I drove back up Thursday, leaving well before the 108 degree heat hit Medford. But it’s plenty toasty enough here in Portland. We are expecting heat over 100 again today and tomorrow, so that would make three days of triple digits; pretty rare here.

So I have managed to hardly get anything at all done on the house in the last couple of weeks. Now I’m out of excuses and it’s time to get back to work. I think Karl will come over this weekend for awhile and we’ll see if we can’t finish the floor.

I still have to work on my book and get the proposal put together. I have the scholarship fundraiser in early October I need to start working on. I have my 40th high school reunion in September and parish activities, including Pastoral Council, choir, and some occasional cantoring (including tomorrow night), start soon. And I really should get semi-serious about finding work or some source of income. And then I still have to figure out what I want to do with my life.

Successfully Dipping My Toe in the Publishing World

August 1, 2008, Milwaukie, OR -- It’s been a very busy three weeks since I last posted to this blog. During this time I’ve managed to survive what would have been John and my 38th anniversary. July 4th would have been his 60th birthday. July is a month laden with what a widow friend called “land mines.” Aside from October, July is my toughest month.

Thankfully, I’ve had my hands full of house and other projects so haven’t had time to brood about the down side of July.

Since last I wrote I have hit a few more garage sales and gotten some tools -- a drill/screwdriver -- a power saw, a desk and chair for the office, some chairs for the dining room, a bookcase (what a bargain -- a six-foot-tall, four-foot-wide oak -- not fake oak; real oak -- bookcase for $10), some resin chairs and small tables for my patio. I also splurged and bought a scrolling sable saw with a laser-trac to work on one of my projects.

Said project is the floor in my family room. It will continue into the kitchen but it might take awhile. My son Karl came and helped me get it started. We figured out what to do and started doing it. It is a floating floor system, blocks that snap together. It looks like ceramic tile but is a composite, kind of like formica, I guess. It was tricky at first but now the hardest part is cutting the pieces to fit and making sure they’re going in the right direction to match the tongue with the groove. I laid a couple rows by myself and then my brother came and helped me lay a few more. I think it will be nice when it’s all done.

I also got a security system installed last week. Mostly for Charlie; he doesn't want to be a full-time guard dog; it's just not in his nature.

I have also completed stripping the wallpaper in the kitchen and painted the kitchen and family room before laying the floor. The rooms are a sunny gold and very pale yellow/cream, respectively.

Speaking of painting, I decided I had to get the outside painted. It was just too drab and the paint was peeling in many places. Needed to get that done before the rains start. The hardest part of this was deciding what color. Oh, and writing the check for the work once it was completed yesterday. The guys had a cancellation and so came over within a few days of doing the estimate. The color is a very pale blue with darker blue trim. The trim almost looks like periwinkle blue; a little purpler than I had expected. But it looks good. Much more cheerful than before.

In order to give the guys room to pressure wash and paint, and to protect the Mo from paint drift, I parked it out on the street Wednesday. This had the added advantage of allowing me to open the bedroom slide and get the things in the closet I hadn’t been able to get at before. I am hoping I can get the rugs cleaned, the Mo washed, and the mattress back out into the Mo bedroom (which I slept on here in the house until I got my new bed) before I park it back in that tiny area next to my garage. That should be done some time next week, though, because I’m heading up to Yakima next weekend for a family reunion and then down to Medford/Ashland to visit my sister Shirley the following week for a few days. I can’t leave the Mo parked out on the street that long.

So after all that work -- and spending all that money (I feel like it’s leaking out of my pores!) -- I am taking the weekend off. Months ago I signed up to attend a writer’s conference here in Portland -- one of the best in the country, they tell me. I signed up for one-on-one consults with agents and since I didn’t know what to expect, I spent much of this past week working on my book and a two-page summary/query. Turns out that this was just a verbal pitch; they didn’t really want things in writing.

I attended the first workshop on how to do a query and pitch and was sitting in the lobby with my computer doing some research to include in my pitch. I wanted demographics of how many single women (and couples) will be retiring in the next few years. That would provide information on what I considered prospective audiences for my book, although I hope its appeal is broader than that audience.

As I went to sit down at a table when space opened up I noticed the woman sitting on the bench next to me was the agent who had presented that first workshop. I thanked her, told her I loved the humor in her talk, and we proceeded to talk about my book proposal. She gave me her card and asked me to send her a query, that she would be interested in looking at it. Nice way to start.

My first official one-on-one was with an agent whose Bay-area company represents women writers who write books for women. Right up my alley, I thought when I picked her. She liked my idea, gave me her card and asked me to send her a proposal, outlining what she wanted to receive in the proposal. She also told me I had done a great job in my pitch. That gave me confidence to tackle the next two that afternoon.

The second agent was a man from Berkley, California, who works only with non-fiction. He gave me some great advice and pointers and then his contact information and asked me to send him a proposal when the book was ready.

Wow, three out of three so far. That’s pretty phenomenal for a first-time pitcher. Of course, that doesn’t mean anyone will actually take it on, or that they’ll be able to sell it to a publisher if they do. But I’ve hit the bunt, and now just need to get to first base. Then we’ll see what happens.

The third one-on-one was with a woman from the East Coast. She was busy texting when I got there and made me wait a few minutes. She seemed intrigued and interested and asked me lots of questions, but then she said: “I don’t think this is something I’d be interested in. It sounds like something I’d want to read an article about but not a whole book.” Different strokes, I guess.

Of course, I thanked her and left. But I focused on the rejection. Three “send me more” responses and I chose to focus on the one negative. Story of my life.

I’m done with the one-on-ones but will attend a group session tomorrow. This agent did not have availability in her schedule for one-on-ones when I registered. But once I hear what she’s looking for I may be able to send her a query letter when I’m done with the book.

So, who knows, maybe I’ll be able to sell a book and recoup some of the money I spent on the travels. That would be icing on the cake, though. I will get my blogs and journals organized and get the book done asap but be thankful for what gifts I have already received from this travel.

TravelinLady