Nature . . . and the World . . . are Noisy

For the last several weeks, Joseph and I have been sleeping outside on our upper deck. It is completely private, roomy and beautiful there. We have an air mattress and lots of cozy blankets for the chilly nights. We snuggle down and listen to wind chimes, distant train whistles, the wind blowing through the tall pine trees in our yard, and the distant murmur of traffic on the busy street a few blocks away. For this very auditory woman, it is lovely.

Well .. . until morning comes. And then nature gets just too friggin noisy. The chirp of morning birds is fine--very nice even. The increase in traffic is also a welcome background sound. Here are the sounds that are not so welcome:

1. The Bickering Duo . . . . apparently we have a squawking bluebird and a chittering squirrel who do NOT get along. I don't know what they find to bicker about every single morning, but they do. Like clockwork, the bird squawks, the squirrel responds and they do this back and forth for over an hour. (I had NO IDEA squirrels could be so loud!) Do they want the same tree real estate? Vying for the same snack (worm? nuts? they have different diets . . . )? Just grumpy until they get their morning coffee? WHAT? I am about ready to hire a mediator to step in and negotiate a truce.

2. The Cat from Hell . . . now we have this neighborhood cat who sits on either our bottom deck or our stairs and YOWLS. I don't mean a gentle meow. I don't mean a little purring. I mean Y O W L I N G. Miserable unhappiness piercing the late night/early morning hours over and over. It moves fine so doesn't seem to be in any pain . . . doesn't act hungry. I am guessing it is in heat, which means it sure picked the wrong house since our cat is also female and fixed. I don't suppose if I tossed down a sex toy and told her to get lost and take care of the problem, it would help? I'm about to try anything to shut her up. I also spend way too much time wondering how awful it would be to have to announce to the world you're horny and just yell until some cat comes along to help you out. Hmmm. Guess it does sound like a few college friends I used to know . . .

3. Earth Swallowing Trucks . . . This morning, added to our mix, we had a truck of some kind. Not sure what it was since it isn't trash day. . . but it was amazingly loud and was doing something at each house . . .it sounded like it was sucking up the foundation and crunching it into compost, to be honest. It was 7:55. Seems a tad early for foundation sucking, but then, who knows, the truck driver might have made a deal with the cat, the squirrel and the bird. Maybe it's a conspiracy to get those Orrs off the deck and into the house?

Hmph. Not until summer is over. Until then, where are my ear plugs?

Knowing the Future? NO Thanks.

Are you one of those people who wishes you knew what was going to happen tomorrow or in the future? Do you wish you could close your eyes, look into a crystal ball, cast rune stones--whatever--and know what was waiting around the corner? Although I think we all have moments like that, where we wish we knew the outcome of a certain situation or a common concern (will she fall in love? will he find the right job? will I eventually get grandchildren?), I have decided that knowing what is going to happen could be detrimental to my initiative.

Case in point (and you knew that there had to be one, right?), I just finished up the second most intense and demanding (and well paying) job of my 20 plus years of writing. It came out of the blue . . . a quick email from an editor I just finished working for saying hey, I have a new project--interested? In all honesty, it should have read, "I have an insane project that will require you to stop sleeping or doing any other work, that will involve miscommunications, confusing editors, missing documents, a huge amount of work and virtually no time to do it--are you interested?" Had I been able to glance into the next four days, I am pretty sure I would have had some serious doubts. But since I couldn't and the money was goooooooooooood, I said "Sure".

Cue . . . .five days of craziness. I mean, such intense craziness that several times, I pushed my chair back from the computer and went storming up the block on a walk trying to keep my cool. Rants. Crying sessions. Texts to editors at midnight. That kind of craziness.

Everything had to be turned in by July 1. I finished at 2 a.m. that morning. When I did, my amazing family--who brought me ice water, heatpacks, nightgowns, chocolate, coffee, made me take breaks and just breathe, gave me massages, endless hugs and multiple rally sessions--put me in the car (yes, at 2 in the morning) and took me for a drive so I could just R E L A X. Then they poured me into bed.

Friday morning I opened my eyes and my first thought was, Ok, what do I still have to get done.? Then that GLORIOUS, just-like-the -last-day-of-school feeling hit me--I was DONE. Not only was I done but,
(1) It was Friday of a holiday weekend.
(2) It was warm and sunny.
(3) I was paid, actually PAID, for another project and had enough money to not only take a deep breath but hit a couple of Goodwills without guilt.

That, my friends, made for a PERFECT weekend.

So, this weekend, what have I done? I sat out in the sun. I took a nap. I read a book. I wrote letters. I watched a movie. I am going to see fireworks. I am going to probably take another nap and finish my book. PERFECTION. And while that is a good weekend, what came before it, those intense days, made it a perfect weekend (ok, not perfect. Nicole isn't home. But close). And within 30 days, when that check arrives in my mailbox, we are going to sit down and just stare at it for awhile. Then it will get dispersed to things like taxes and bills but also a few fun things. (Of course, to me that means road trips, books and paper and to J that means anything VW related. The boys are just counting on new computers.)

If I could have glanced into the future and seen what this job entailed and what a mess it would be, how stressful it would be to me physically and emotionally, would I have taken it? I doubt it. But I"m glad that I wasn't psychic and I did say yes because when that check comes, you can bet I will be smiling.

Now excuse me, I have an almost perfect weekend to get back to. . . Oh, Happy 4th of July. May it be your own version of a perfect weekend as well.

A Desert Adventure--and Returning to Reality

If you know me and the family, or have been reading this blog very long, you know that each year, in June, we head to the desert region of Oregon (yes, there IS a desert region of Oregon, complete with tumbleweeds and sage brush) to the annual Volkswagen Camper Bus gathering in Maupin. This was our fifth year to go and it was delightful. The weather cooperated (mostly), people were friendly, food was tasty, scenery was awesomely gorgeous (roaring river on one side, brown velvet mountain side on the other), and I didn't work a bit for almost four full days. We had the usual VW adventure . . i.e. broke down on the side of the road. Snicker.

Five minutes after Joseph caught karma's attention by remarking out loud how wonderfully the bus was running, it conked out. We spent almost two hours on the highway with two friends trying to pinpoint the problem (which they did) and fix it (which they did). On the way home, getting gas for the long trip, the bus . . . . can you guess? . . . conked out. Refused to start. Needed a new battery cable. Okay. Bought a new one. Halfway home? Strange smell. Ahhhhhhh, alternator belt chewed up. Why? Oooooops, that's where you left the wrench you were missing? Mystery solved. Finally home, tired, tan, happy.

The only real down side to the entire trip was that there was this enormous BLACK HOLE of emptiness that followed me around. It was always next to me when I sat down. Always there when I looked up. Hovering over me when I crawled into bed in the tent. What was it? It was the Nicole-isn't-here-black-hole. I missed her more at Maupin than any time since she left. A lovely man who had a cell phone with service (unlike ours) loaned me his so I could at least call her a couple of times to let her know how much she was missed.

Returned to work Sunday night . . . and I'm not sure I've slowed down yet. I'm thrilled to say that I'm being hired by new companies, people love my work, I'm getting referrals . . . . all SO GOOD, but man, keeping up may be the end of me. If one editor knew what I was doing for other editors, they'd never believe it. I am back to being in front of the computer screen 16-17 hours a day. Ugh. Eventually, of course, i will be rolling in money (which means paying back loans and catching up with bills) but right now, all I can see is deadlines and more deadlines.

So, here is what I wishing for . . . .

that stress burns calories . . . . that I am able to meet my deadlines . . . that coffee and chocolate are never in scarce quantities . . . . that my right arm doesn't fall off from too much time on the keyboard . . . that editors keep liking my work so I don't have to do any (shudder) revisions . . . . and that I get the chance to sit back, breathe, cuddle with kids and husband, and relax now and then. Wish with me, wouldya?

The Future Looks Bright

It has been a long month . . . and yes, it's only half over. As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, this month, through various circumstances, we are basically not getting paid. Only one check is slated to come and that has been delayed a week because "it missed the cutoff by an hour". Sigh. So this has made for a long month. The stress of it has been mitigated by the kindness of those we love and who so clearly love us.

Caspian handed us the $40 we had given him to go to the organic farm. "Here," he said. "I am fed three times a day and don't need anything else, so use it."

Nicole called to say, "I'm sending you a $300 Safeway card. Eat for the rest of the month without worrying and don't even think about paying it back. We're family."

Coryn went online without being asked and cancelled his WOW account.

AmiMental took money that her family needs almost as much as mine and handed it to me, not even allowing me to open my mouth and object. I was only allowed to say "thank you" (which I did) and "I love you" (which I do).

All of these acts humble me. The compassion and love and kindness overwhelms me. It also has kept us going when things are at their lowest.

On a happier note, work has been cascading in at an exciting but intimidating rate . . . I've been hired by several new companies and an old familiar company asked me to do a rush job that may kill me to get done in time but will also pay me very well (in two months or so . . . ). It means that August and September will be great months . . if we survive until then. But if we had to live on love, it is clear that this family would feast like kings.

Too Close for Other's Comfort

Lately I have been having the same conversation repeatedly with Joseph, my kids, Ami and mentally (and man, can I carry on a fantastic internal dialogue!). Why is it that our culture sees maintaining a close relationship with your parents as wrong? Why does it lessen you in their eyes? Why does turning to your parents for advice, encouragement, emotional support, or just a needed dose of love and affection, mean that you are weak? immature? incapable? That simply does not make any sense to me.

If you were at work and you ran into a problem or obstacle or issue, you wouldn't be laughed at for turning to co-workers or managers for help. If you were sitting in a classroom and were confused or frustrated, you wouldn't be ridiculed for asking the teacher for assistance. If you were having a terrible (or wonderful!) day, no one would think twice if you grabbed the phone to share the news with your best friend.

BUT substitute PARENT for any of those positions and suddenly, it's wrong.

When Nicole walked into her new kitchen with the new team, they had put up a sign welcoming her. Awesome, huh? We were all pleased with that. The new team has been wonderful and she is sooooo much happier. But, on break, when she reached for the phone to call and talk to me as she does each afternoon, she saw it. The head shaking. The couched question . . . Calling your folks again? The veiled looks.

When Caspian walks into the kitchen at the farm and the only piece of mail on the board is for him from me, he gets the same thing. When he picks up the phone and calls us to tell us about his day, people wonder why in the world he wants to talk to his (say it with disgust here) . . . . p a r e n t s.

Why??? Why is that wrong? These children are certainly not immature and overly dependent. Look where they ARE! Nicole is 2,500 miles away in Alaska, living on her own. Caspian is spending the summer in a tent doing extremely demanding work. How can examples like that be linked to immaturity because each one of them takes a minute to call us and tell us what is happening in their lives?

Society is messed up, especially when it comes to our children. We know that. A weekend spent at Life is Good unschooling conference helped me to re-connect with the loving, supportive, bonding kind of families that give me hope for the future. And just because our children are too close for other people's comfort, we couldn't imagine them being anywhere else.

Thank you for listening. Stepping off of the soap box for now.

Mostly Great . . . with a Little Challenge Thrown In

Life is pretty good for us right now is many ways.
Nicole is MUCH MUCH happier with her new team. It isn't perfect . . . her new boss was told that she was a "meek, parent dominated, sheltered homeschooler" (grrrrrr) so she has that false reputation to overcome. I have no doubt she will do it in a matter of days seeing as she is NONE of those things.

Caspian is home for the weekend so the house seems fuller. He called to say he was "hug-deprived" and needed some family time and so he is here for a couple of days (and double his usual share of hugs).

Work is picking up . . . I have two new companies in the process of hiring me and a familiar company called to give me extra work because I had done so well for them in the past.

Even the weather is cooperating for the first time. The sun is out, the rain is gone and the temperature is hitting actually summer levels. I sat outside in the sun this afternoon and soaked up as much vitamin D as I could.

So, all of this adds up to happiness and harmony . . . except for one thing. In the month of June, I am not getting paid. Yea, you read that right. Through a confluence of bizarre circumstances, in June, I will virtually go without a single paycheck. And you know what? I don't know what to do about it. I've been brainstorming, of course.

Taking on more writing jobs is fine, but it won't help because the lag time in getting paid is always a month or more.

Taking a job outside the house is possible, but they are hard to find and frankly, I have enough writing assignments that I don't know if I could juggle it all.

I can sell some things . . and will. A trip to Powell's with books. Perhaps a VW for sale.

I can always depend on my darlin friend Ami to make sure I have groceries. :)

But otherwise, I simply am not sure what to do. We wrote a resume for Joseph tonight but it's a bizarre one. He did the same thing for 22 years . . . . so how do I turn that into a generic resume? Plus there just aren't that many jobs out there . . .

July will be a terrific month. One of my best in a year, in fact. But I have to survive June first and honestly, I am not sure how. No wealthy relatives to beg. Don't play the lottery. So, if you happen to win a million or find a treasure chest or win big at poker or have a savings account you'd forgotten about, keep your good friend Tami in mind, wouldya?And come onnnnnnnnnnn July.

Embarrassed: Zero. Grateful: One/Won.

Occasionally the Mama Tiger cannot be silenced.

Nicole has had a terrible struggle with her job on the train. The hours are long, the work is hard--but she can handle that. No hothouse flower this one. She is TOUGH. What made the job nearly impossible to bear, however, was her co-worker. This . . . . think of a neutral word to use here, Tami. . . . person was overbearing, rude, unkind, selfish and downright cruel. She abused Nicole verbally and emotionally, and, I suspect if she thought she could have done it without getting her ass fired, it would have been physically as well. Each day she called me to report in, I heard more despair and frustration and desperation in her voice.

We gave her suggestions and advice, of course. We suggested she talk to her manager (she did) and do everything possible to work things out with her co-worker (she did) and nothing helped . . . in fact, it just got worse.

Finally, I had had it with the last phone call. This girl was ready to come home but wouldn't allow herself because she is not one to quit. When I got off the phone with her, I went to talk with Joseph. We were really waffling with whether or not to step in. On the one hand, we wanted to step back and allow Nicole to handle this alone and be totally independent. On the other, we wanted her to know that she was not alone and that no matter where she is or what is happening, we have got her back.

Option B won out. Neither Joseph nor I feel that our children reach a point where they are on their own, where we say "sink or swim." If our children reach out to us, we will hold out our arms. (This goes for the oldest one as well. She has needed help several times in the past and we did all we could from handing out money to carrying heavy items up very narrow stairs. I hope that she knows, somewhere, in the back of her mind, that we are still here with open arms if she needs us.) Ironically, it seems that their knowing that has made it such that they rarely need to reach out.

We called the man who hired Nicole in April and we talked to him. He called in his boss. Skipping over many details, the supervisors met with Nicole and she has been transferred to a new train and team. Her first day is tomorrow. Finally, she will be away from that . . . . remember, Tami . . . person who was making her life miserable.

Two important final notes on this story. First, her manager came to Nicole to ask how upper management found out about this situation. After pressing her relentlessly, the manager finally got Nicole to state that her parents had called. To this, the woman said, "My goodness! Aren't you embarrassed to have your parents get involved?" And our girl replied, "No, I'm grateful that I have people who love me that much."

Snicker.

And then? The last night when this . . . . person . . . was walking to her car, Nicole followed her. Did she call this coworker names? Yell at her? Finally tell her what a bit-----PERSON she was?! No. She thanked her for what she had learned from her in the kitchen and wished her the best. Shook her hand even. Didn't break out into hysterical laughter when the girl admitted that she was not really a very good teacher and co-worker.

Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is integrity.