Break Time

It has been a very busy week. Very busy indeed. And as such, this post will seem to be behind the times; for the busier I get, the behinder my writing falls.

This year for Halloween, we decided to join in the fun at our church (Mountainview Christian Church) by participating in Trunk or Treat. It was great fun. Our theme was the 50s and I had made a juke box and decorated the car a bit, too. Then someone asked if I was Julia Child. My intention was simply “50s mom,” but I liked the idea of being Julia Child, so I decided to let it stick. I believe we must give credit where credit is due, and as such, credit for the Julia Child idea goes to an anonymous parent. Thank you.

Some of the other entrants were absolutely amazing. A lot of time and thought had to have gone into each one. My friends, Tim and Kristina, did an awesome job remaking Alice in Wonderland. Though, this really isn’t any wonder, knowing that Kristina is such an amazing artist to begin with. You can check out her paintings on Etsy.

The only problem with having made the decision to do Trunk or Treat was that I was also preparing for a bazaar on November 3rd, which I had had only a few days’ notice in which to get my stuff together. I was cramming to get products made, and I was cramming to get costumes pulled together. Meanwhile, I was also cramming to get my homework done for my Friday night class at Renew. And, I had also made the decision to go see my dad in the midst of all this chaotic busy-ness.

And of course, right in the middle of it all, I worked myself into a physical setback by trying too hard and doing too much.

When we arrived home on Saturday evening, after having spent the entire day working at the bazaar, my legs gave out as I climbed the steps onto the porch. From there, it was all downhill. I slept, or rather I was in bed, delirious with pain and exhaustion, for the next 36 hours.

This morning found me slightly better, well enough to focus my mind on this simple task, at least. I could easily sleep another full day or two away, if it weren’t for my pesky drive. I cannot remain idle for too long. I feel guilty if I let things slide, or if I depend on others to do for me. I have always tried to hide my pain and my exhaustion from the world, but I can no longer hide what is so prevalent in my life. Unfortunately, all this guilt and hiding and unrelenting pain leads to a vicious cycle of try and fail and try and fail again, when my body cannot keep up with my drive and desire.

Putting a positive spin on it, however, I had a great week. I had a blast putting together costumes and seeing all those little kids dressed up. I had a wonderful lunch with my father and my son, three generations, having good conversation and laughter. I thoroughly enjoyed the creation process as I feverishly worked to make enough hats for the bazaar. During the bazaar, I enjoyed talking with many people whom I had not seen in a long while. And I really enjoyed seeing my photos and my creations displayed for sale.

Before a Blank Canvas

I find myself standing before the blank canvas of my future once again. Our plans have been erased, and the starkness, the emptiness stares back at me, mocking me. Bright and fresh, yet painful to look at, for how easily my colorful strokes were washed from its surface.

God must find our plans rather humorous, especially since He keeps allowing obstacles to get in our way.

We have set departure date after departure date, and things keep going awry. It has been an awful health year, with both my guys having surgeries in the past several months. Plus Ken’s diabetic crisis last winter. And then there’s the effect all this stress has had on my own health. It has definitely not been a good year for us in the health department.

And all the other stressors: Too many to number.

In the financial department, it’s pretty dismal as well. Cost of living goes up. Rent goes up. Live-in son loses job because of needing time off for surgery. And yet, being retired means Ken cannot just go work a few extra hours a week to help make ends meet. Fixed income really means fixed, unless we scramble in other ways. More to come on that subject in a later post.

Things are bound to improve. I must hope. I must remain in faith that God will bring about only good for us, even from the bad.

Being visual, I made up a calendar showing that there’s only about seven weeks until our most recent deadline would come to pass. And there is way more work to do than that short seven weeks will hold. Sure, two or three able-bodied adults could handle it all in short order, but we are a chronic chick and two dudes recovering from shoulder surgeries.

So, here is the new “plan” and please don’t let that be laughter I hear off in the distance.

We will be stuck here in damp, dismal Portland for yet another winter. Fun stuff. Not! Tentatively speaking, we will make a go of it again next spring. It cannot be helped, unless we suddenly win the lottery, but then again, we would actually have to play the lottery in  order to win it, wouldn’t we? There are no rich old spinster aunts hiding in our closets just waiting to leave us a bundle, either.

My son asked me a question this morning, “What is it you don’t like about winter here?”

It is not that I don’t “like” winter here in the Northwest, but winter does not “like” me. My  arthritis flares up something fierce. And my depression also worsens, with the lessening of the sunshine. Heck, we barely have enough sunshine in the summer to keep me afloat and depression-free, in this Great Northwest. But I am now taking mega-doses of vitamin D weekly and taking measures to ensure an easier, if not less painful winter, joint-wise.

There’s not much else I can do at this point.

Except keep asking God why He has us tied here, for so long. There must be something He wants us to accomplish before we hit the road. I just need to figure out what that is.

Lord, with my faith, I place our future plans in Your hands. I wait upon You, with patience, yet an eagerness to carry out Your works. Lord, please instill in me what it is You want me to do.

Amen.

Fire!

When my group leader informed me that he was ill and would be cancelling tonight’s class, my body got the message before my brain did. My body said, “Wow, I don’t have to go anywhere tonight. It’s time to shut down.” And shut down it did.

Since Ken’s surgery (and even before) I have been pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion almost every day. With adrenal fatigue, that’s easy enough to do just in a normal day’s routine, but I have been pushing way past and more or less hurting myself in the process. I have been unable to sleep much at all this past week because of all the pain I have been in, with running all the errands and to appointments and cooking and cleaning. (I know, quit whining.)

The topper, though, was yesterday when some prospective buyers came by to look the place over. I tried my best to get it all spiffy beforehand, but I still felt I did an inadequate job of it, but that is partly due to all the junk we still need to offload and the overall lack of storage space.

Back to my body shutting down: I figured I might just lie down for a few minutes, rest my weariness. Ken tried to get me up. He wanted me to either go for a walk with him or to just go outside and take advantage of the beautiful day. I could barely lift my arm to wave him off, while I slurred, “leave me be.” He could have yelled “fire!” but I don’t think I could have gotten up even then.

He was not happy that I was “wasting another day” in bed, but then again, he has never really understood my levels of fatigue. It is like when you have the flu and you are all achy and can barely move. Only mine doesn’t nicely disappear after a week or two of misery. It sticks around, waxing and waning to a certain degree, but always there. Always dampening my plans and squashing the best of my intentions. It sucks. (Sorry.)

So, after my three-hour snooze-fest, I feel much better. I was able to finish making dinner, which I had started earlier. At least I had gotten the prawns marinating before collapsing into bed. I added some leftover homemade Spanish rice from yesterday’s dinner and some steamed carrots, and we had ourselves a righteously fabulous meal outside in this beautiful weather.

My only disappointment is that the three kinds of chocolatey goodness I made for our RENEW dessert potluck yesterday did not make it to the church tonight. It’s just another example of my best of intentions going awry. Oh well, I am sure Trevor will be happy to gobble them down instead.

As a special bonus, here’s some flowers from our yard.

And a lazy little assist dog . . . (Tink fell asleep on the arm of the chair and then proceeded to slide onto Ken’s lap, which is better than her usual stunt—falling off the arm and onto the floor!)