5 am -- Time for Deep Thoughts

I was never one for early mornings, preferring to stay up way late and sleep in.  Ever since the panic of last year though, I have become Ben Franklin's aphoristic "Early to bed and early to rise."  I don't know if it will make me "healthy, wealthy and wise," but I am truly enjoying my new life as an early riser. I may have been a slug-a-bed for the first 50 years or so, but now, I'm awake for each new day's beginning.

For someone who treasures peace and quiet now over the constant activity, passionate arguments, loud music, and constant stimulation of my youth, the hour before the sun comes up is a gift.  This is the time of day where I can let my mind wander and float, where I can putter and pad about in bare feet and bathrobe, sip hot coffee slowly, and wait patiently for the dawning of a new day. These are days that last year, I wasn't sure I would be around to see.

I'm pretty sure I never appreciated the reality of personal mortality until a year ago. I feel it keenly now, not as an abstract "someday" concept that we all accept as a given, but don't really want to look at full-face, preferring to let that thought slip by into the land of Scarlett O'Hara postponement. We live our lives necessarily thinking about what to do today, where to go next, making our short-term and long-term plans with a single-minded amnesia to the time when the credits will roll and the director yells "that's a wrap!"  We rarely ponder death in general or the specific, certain inevitability of our own demise, until forced to be reminded of it by someone else's passing.  Later, we think...much later.

But now, in middle age, it's not just our pets and our grandparents who are dying, (giving us only a momentary pause that "someday" is lying in wait for ourselves), but our parents and our peers. And occasionally, we get that heart-stopping diagnosis, gift-wrapped and presented on our own plate. 

My first devastating thought was the certainty that up until that moment, I had wasted so much time on so much that was unimportant. It forced me into a retrospective of every unkind word, every character flaw, every situation handled badly--and every regret from the past had the potential to continue to be an unbandaged wound, unresolved for eternity.

Next came the rationalization phase, or as Bill and I call it "Ringing the Reassessment Bell." Being forced to look at time on this earth as finite in the immediate present rather than the distant future, I decided to mend what could be mended, forgive and forget what could not be changed, and resolved to appreciate what I had, instead of obsessing on what I had lost. I am not talking about the physical loss, but the mental and emotional cost. 

I had been given a choice: I could grieve and dwell on the deficits of my life, or I could start over again and start banking my joys and blessings. It was a hard path, for this was a profound change of internal attitude for me. Now that I had been reprieved in the short term, there was a temptation to go on as if nothing had happened, that I just had a little bump in the road, a temporary set-back. But I don't trust that feeling anymore.  I know better. Ignorance is not bliss, it's just ignorance.

My current reality is that this may only be a temporary reprieve. I am really okay with that (as if I had a choice in the matter), and I accept whatever comes next.  In the meantime, I'm going to be a kinder, gentler Pam whenever I can, with a conscious thought that each moment is to be embraced and savored, and hopefully, lived without regrets.

Each dawn is new, and will never be repeated.  I've been given a second chance to discover, learn and yes, even change the way I look at the world. I'm taking that chance. I am happy and resolve to find more happiness, wherever I can.

Turkey Day Revisited

I had a great Thanksgiving with my children and their friends. It was weird being the oldster, by about 25 years, but they made me feel welcome and at home.

We had the obligatory oven fire and the ensuing turkey disaster. We put the fire out with baking soda, but the oven was doing something funky after that, or the thermometer was faulty. In any case, we all got a taste of delicious turkey from the breast, but the rest of the bird was raw. We also had ham, so no one went hungry.  Christy's yams and stuffing were delicious, Juli made creamed spinach and onions, there was gravy and cranberry sauce and more desserts than we could possibly eat.

I shared Alex's room which he fondly calls "the cupboard under the stairs," having lugged my airbed over there for just that eventuality.  We both slept a full 12 hours  I took him to work this morning, and actually found my way back to the West Seattle bridge and Juli's neighborhood. And, because everyone was out shopping those crazy Black Friday sales, I found an awesome parking spot too.

We just made split-pea soup with the ham bone I commandeered last night.  Tomorrow, it's back to Olympia and the Extreme Makeover my sister-in-law has planned.  MaryAnn insists that there be before-and-after photos.

I'll let you know on that later, AFTER I've seen the results.

City Dreaming

I accessed a very old memory last night, lying on my airbed in the living room of Juli's apartment. With my eyes closed, and my ears ignoring everything but the sounds from the busy street below, I was transported back to my grandparent's apartment in Los Angeles.

I think I was about 10 years old when they lived at that apartment on Manchester Avenue, right off the freeway, just down the street from the donut shop with the giant plaster donut on its roof. I remember staying overnight with them, drifting off to sleep to the whoosh of cars and busses, the occasional horn, and the tick of a clock in the room.  

Kerne and Juli have such a clock. The electric busses stop right at their corner, zizzing by as their overhead connections crackle. The engine and tire noises from cars as they go over the street bumps waft up to the 3rd floor windows. As I snuggled down in my sleeping bag last night, my last thoughts were memories of my DeFazio grandparents, gone for so long now, but never forgotten.

Food Testing

One of the swell benefits of being here in Olympia is that I can test prep and test cook food for the wedding, and work out any kinks well ahead of time.

Last night, I cut up 3 different kinds of potatoes, yams, carrots and onions, and threw them in a ziplock bag with olive oil, garlic, rosemary, salt & pepper.  Then I put it in the freezer.  Tonight, I will make a meatloaf, and I will throw the contents of that bag in a pan and roast it all up, testing to see if the results are as good as if I did it fresh.  If so, then all that particular prep for the wedding can be done ahead of time, and we can go from freezer to oven on the morning of the wedding.

If it doesn't work out as planned, then I can modify the recipe or figure something else out.  In any case, it won't go to waste, and dinner for tonight is already half-done. I am so clever. I am so smug.

Today, I have auctions to pack up and send. Tomorrow, it's back up to Seattle for Thanksgiving with my children and their friends.  Doug is making the turkey, and the attendees are making the sides and desserts.  I think Juli is making cranberry sauce and creamed spinach.  I am baking an apple pie and a cherry crisp. 

Why am I always writing about food?

Target, I love you!

Today it's icy and cold out, but I'm headed to the chiropractor for more crunch-and-squish.  I am feeling better each day, but I want to keep improving. I have hopes that someday soon, I won't even remember that it hurts to move.

I am taking back the salad bowl things I bought at Kohl's, because my new best friend is Target. Yesterday, we found perfect bowls, perfect tongs, and 36 place settings of flatware--cheaper than we could rent it.  This means we'll use it for the wedding, and then everyone gets a set of 8 for Christmas presents!

In the fabric store, we found a cake knife and server set, plenty of ribbon and tuile for draping the canopy, and niece Angela begged me to make her a shocking pink tutu, to wear over her jeans, of course. Naturally, I had to agree that this would be the ultimate fashion statement.  So I am making her a tutu.  I love being an indulgent auntie.

Basking in the balmy glow of family

I have been here a week now, and starting to recognize how truly isolated I have been the past few months. It's a good thing I rouse myself weekly to attend knitting group, or I would have no social skills left at all.

Kellie and I had an incredibly busy day yesterday, braving the teeming hordes at the Fort Lewis Commissary.  We had of course forgotten that it was Saturday-before-Thanksgiving.  I think I saw more people yesterday in one place than I saw all of last year. And they were all in a shopping frenzy. Aisles were like bumper cars at the fair, tempers were somewhat short, lines were long.  We were working off of three separate lists:  Household (we were out of food), Kellie's Mom's list (neither parent drives anymore), and Wedding stuff. We bought two carts worth of champagne, beer and wine, two carts worth of food, cleaning supplies, paper goods and ephemera, a dress shirt and tie for Bill for when he shows up, swimming goggles for Jerry, headphones for Kellie and me to use at the gym, cutting board mats for Juli's wedding food prep. Then we were off to Michael's (which no longer carries party supplies), Kohl's, looking for giant salad bowls (marginally successful, I may take them back if I find something better), then home to walk the dogs in the rain.

Then, around dinner time, the power went out.  Jerry made a Chicken Chili and Brown Rice on the stovetop by candlelight, Kellie and I taste-tested the champagne we bought (!), and we played Scrabble with candles and flashlights.  Then it was off pick up Kellie's Mom, and travel 25 miles south to Centralia, to see niece Bonnie's play on its closing night.

Understandably, I slept really well last night.  My final thought before succumbing to the Arms of Morpheus was how nice it was to be with people I love, laughing and talking, playing games in the dark, and being part of a group of congenial souls.

I could possibly get used to all this togetherness -- it's pretty great.

Wedding Insurance

It must be still another sign of our litigious culture that "wedding insurance" is required for this upcoming event. I understand this--someone might fall down (and can't get up), we might set the place on fire, or a drunken guest might leave and cause an accident.

But apparently, wedding insurance is even more complicated than simple liability issues. Wedding insurance is meant to also compensate for disappointment on one's wedding day. By going online and checking the appropriate box, you can purchase insurance against the possibility of vendors not showing up (photographer, caterer, florist), or even rain spoiling your event.  And yes, if you are marrying a flake, you can also purchase "cold feet" insurance.

This is incredible to me.  Why would you even consider getting married to someone you thought you needed Cold Feet Insurance for? The only thing I can figure, is that if you're broke, you purchase said CF insurance, one party doesn't show up (as planned) and you collect a big whopping tub of cash which you then use to elope?

Juli said something very sweet the other day: "Thank you, Mom, for rescuing me from the Wedding Industrial Complex".  I'm only now realizing that she wasn't kidding.  I'm feeling ill-equipped in dealing with the craziness of the wedding industry.

Cold Feet Insurance, indeed.

Parking Quandries

I've decided to go back to Olympia today, to do the things that need to be done in a more suburban environment.  Urban life is difficult, if only in the paucity of Walmarts, Targets, Michael's, Joann's Fabrics and Home Depots.  Driving is difficult.  Parking is impossibly frustrating.

Each time we venture out past the neighborhood, where everything needed is within walking distance, I have to give up my parking space.  Upon returning, I must circle endlessly through the side streets, trying to find an open space (unlikely), or waiting to catch someone leaving. Every possibility seems to turn out to be a 15-minute loading zone, or a handicapped space. And it's all so random.  Cars park nose-to-nose or tail-to-tail, it's all so untidy. Even when I do find a spot, I am incredibly nervous that somehow there must be something wrong or illegal about it. I'll park the car, then get out and walk around, wondering if the curb's paint wore off, or someone stole the "No Parking EVER" sign. 

When I finally give up and decide that yes, this place will do, I have to consciously remember where I parked this time, so I know where to find my car the next time I want to go out.  And as I walk to where I think I am, I worry all the way that my car will be gone, either towed or ticketed, or that no, that's where I thought I left it, not where it actually is this time.

As you can see, city life is stressful for me.

Last night, Alex came over to Juli's apartment after work, and we visited for awhile.  He asked for a ride home to his place, over in West Seattle.  My first question to him was "is there parking?" He told me, "You can park wherever you want, you can even take up two spaces if you want."  Okay then, I'll do it, if only for the pure joy of parking with abandon.

Off to Seattle this morning

I found a photographer!  Niece Angela has a friend in high school who did her senior pix, and his pictures are fabulous. One thing to cross off the ever-growing list.

I have to wait until 9 am to get on the freeway, because the commuter traffic is so bad here.  If I left between 5 and 9, it would take 3 hours to get to Seattle.  If I go at 9, it should only take a little more than an hour.  Echo will stay here with family in the "Pack of Three," as we call the dogs that populate the house here in Olympia.

All I have to do is shower, throw things in a bag and get on the road again.  Today, Juli and I will visit the wedding venue and hit the party rental places for chairs, linens, dishes, flatware, champagne glasses and coffee cups.  

I wish I knew what I was doing with all this wedding stuff...I feel like an amateur thrust into the big leagues with no preparation at all.

Major Pain Explained

I have been suffering awhile from the oddest and most annoying pain.  It started sometime around when I was staining and finishing all the ceiling lumber back at the beginning of November. 

Hard to describe, but it was something like being stabbed under my right arm with a red-hot steak knife. Not pleasant. I treated it with ibuprofen, ice packs and rest.  I called my plastic surgeon and talked to the nurse, just to make sure it wasn't some danger sign that I didn't know about but needed to let them know about. The nurse said, "No, doesn't sound like anything we would be concerned about.  It sounds to me like you pulled a muscle." It went away.

Then, my first morning on the trip, when I woke up at Jean's house, I did a morning stretch and it came back.  This time, it wasn't random, it only came on when I moved a certain way.

Yesterday, Kellie got me an appointment with her chiropractor. Instant relief!  I had a dislocated top rib (in the back), and he crunched it and popped it back into place.  The muscles around it are weak and outraged, so I'm still a little sore, but what a difference!  Ahhhhhhh......

He said to keep that arm quiet for awhile, so Kellie and I went to the gym and did aerobic and lower body workouts (sparing the arm movement), then came home and enjoyed our post-exercise endorphin rushes with a dinner of sushi and white wine.

Life is good. (Getting old and dislocated bites).

Settling in

It's weird living in someone else's house, and knowing that I'm going to be here for awhile.  I miss my own routines and my little round house (the one with the fabulous new bathroom!). But it is also good to break those routines, and get out of my hermit-like rut.

I have had great fun cooking and puttering so far.  My brother is off business traveling for the next few days, so Kellie and I have been watching movies, chatting and interacting with my nieces, whenever they are at home, which is random.

So far, the "bad weather state" has managed to thwart its reputation--the mornings are chilly and foggy, but the sun has made an appearance each day that I've been here.  I'm not fooled, however--I'm keeping my umbrella at the ready.

The dogs are getting along for the most part.  Asher and Echo got into a tiff in the kitchen yesterday, so we're being cautious about leaving them alone together, but I think that walking them daily together will help them bond.  Echo and the cat met without incident, though Echo keeps sneaking into Bonnie's bathroom to eat all the cat food.

I am making lists for the wedding, in anticipation of going up to Seattle on Wednesday. Hopefully, we'll visit the venue, hit the party-rental places and make some decisions.

All good stuff.

Wrapping up the past week

Tuesday, Nov. 11: Rest day in Denver, Carolyn & Pam imbibing:

Three "puppies" playing, Sooner, Claire & Echo:

More of "America through the windshield":

Wednesday, Nov. 12: Sunrise in Denver, getting on I-25, headed north.

Thursday, Nov. 13:

Rockies looming up from the prairie, in the stormy distance:

Big Sky Montana:

Friday, Nov. 14: Snoqualmie Pass, through the last mountains I have to cross, the Cascades.

Then, Seattle at last!

At last...journey's end

After a long 3 day drive from Denver, I pulled in to daughter Juli's around 11 am yesterday morning.  We had tea and conversation, Echo frightened their cat into crawling inside the couch from an underneath hole in the lining. I left around 1:30 so Juli could sleep and the cat could hopefully extricate herself from the springs and innards of the furniture, without them having to cut it apart.  Another hour's drive and I was at my brother's house in Olympia.

The last 1400 miles are a bit of a blur.  Wyoming was long and desolate, haunting in its empty beauty.  I saw a herd of antelope running along the fence line.  I saw a gigantic bald eagle, perched on a guardrail, just looking at the ground, presumably searching for lunch.

Montana, all 555 miles of it that I traveled, was drop-dead gorgeous.  To see those mountains coming up right out of the prairie, always makes me wonder what people from the gentle East thought when they first encountered this wild and rough scenery.  It is so different than anything they would be familiar with, so majestic and yes, frightening with dramatic stark power--well, it must have been like stepping onto an alien planet. I spent the night in Billings, and crossed the Continental Divide the next morning at Butte.

I had my own little fright, caught in a genuine snowstorm in the pass between Montana and Idaho.  There was nowhere to stop, nowhere to pull off and wait it out (and the thought that I might very well have to wait until Spring!), so I just took it down to 30-40 mph, and slogged through, pressing for the summit and the descent on the other side that would turn the precipitation back to rain instead of snow.  Once through the panhandle of Idaho, I crossed into Washington and spent the night on the west side of Spokane.

Yesterday's drive was easy, just 300 miles across eastern Washington, passing through dessert, over the Columbia River Gorge, through farmland (potatoes & hay) and then crossing the Cascades at Snoqualamie Pass for the final push into Seattle.

I'll try to upload more "America Through My Windshield" pictures when I figure out how to do it on my brother's Mac.

It is good to be here.  I have a cramped hand (steering wheel grip-itis), a sore back (from sitting in the driver's seat for 6 days) and a big pile of dirty laundry.  

America is really, really BIG.

Denver in 3

I am in Denver this morning, waiting for my brain to catch up to my body that has traveled 1500 miles in three days. I'm more than halfway there, and I'll spend today resting while the weather does its nasty snowing-spitting thing.

The trip thus far:

Leaving TN at the Cumberland Gap Tunnel:

Staying at Jean's in beautiful Midway, KY:

Coming in to St. Louis (Look for the Arch!):

Rainbow out on the Missouri prairie:

Windfarm in western Kansas:

Yesterday tested my old NY winter-driving skills. It snowed from the Kansas-Colorado border for 150 miles, finally turning to good old-fashioned rain about 20 miles before Denver. I knew it was safe to keep going, because the Denver radio station kept telling me it was 40 degrees and partly cloudy skies ahead. I tucked in behind a big semi and kept plugging along at a safe speed.

Mission accomplished. I arrived at Bill's sister's house around 3:30.

Today, I shall putter and plan the next great leap forward. If the weather clears over the Rockies, I'll be back on the road again tomorrow.

Off to see America

Today is the day! I'm pretty much all packed, and all I have to do is transfer it to the car. I need to run the dishwasher, take last-minute trash to the dump and drop off leftover food to Hannah. Shut down all the house systems, set up the light timers and lock everything up. That's it.

The highway beckons. Ever since I was a kid, I have loved the feeling of going somewhere. The journey was the fun part; the destination, an afterthought. I remember countless family car trips, waking up in the back of the station wagon, snuggled in my toasty-warm sleeping bag next to my little brother, watching the dawning sky turn pink, as mom and dad drove through the desert night. I am old enough to remember Burma-Shave signs, license plate spotting games, and roadside tables (not fancy rest stops), where mom made olive sandwiches and opened cans of Vienna sausages and Underwood deviled ham for lunch to economize.

America wasn't full of McDonald's then, and every place looked different, unique, alien and wonderful. Now of course, the landscape from coast to coast is pretty much homogeneous--the same strip malls and fast-food joints, the same big-box stores and franchises. Drop off the interstate, and every place looks like the place you just left, only the scenery of the physical terrain changes. The voices on the radio had regional accents, not the bland dialect of Universal Radio Announcers today. The commercials advertised strange wonders like "hog enclosures," "frappes," and "meat and three with hush puppies."

Mostly what I remember from those journeys into the unknown parts of the country was the sense of freedom--flying down the highway, watching the ribbon of asphalt wind out the back window. Going someplace new. And when I learned to drive myself, it just got better! I was in charge of the route and the stops, and I got to decide when to break or when to travel off the beaten path to explore a curiosity.

This trip has the added benefit of excitement about the destination. I am traveling to see my grown children, my family, and to meet up with my husband in three or four weeks.

Let's go!

Bathroom Accomplished!

Bathroom Before (10/7/08):

Bathroom, after Joe worked his magic (11/7/08):

Vanity and medicine cabinet! George Jetson sconces!

A template is taped to the wall, pending towel rod installation:

Shelves!

Double shower!

New toilet! A fan! Clean ceiling!

Finally! A closet with enough space for everything! (Shelves to be stained when I get back).

A discrete heater vent! New floor! Gorgeous ceiling!

Home improvement makes me SO happy!

Maple Vinagrette

I'm posting this recipe because I think this is the dressing I'm going to use on the salad for the wedding reception. I'll need the recipe, and if it's on a piece of paper, chances are that I'll lose it before I get to Seattle.

Sarah's Maple Vinagrette

1 tsp. dry mustard
1/2 tsp. basil
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pepper
2 Tbls. balsamic vinegar
1 Tbls. lemon juice
3 Tbls. maple syrup
1 clove garlic, crushed
2/3 c. oil

Let's not get crazy...

I woke up this morning relaxed and unstressed. I've decided that there is no law saying I have to leave tomorrow, no schedule to keep, no goals to meet. I can just go when the time is right, when I am confident that everything that needs to be done before I go is done.

Bill's sister Carolyn tells me that snow and rain are predicted for Denver on Sunday and Monday. I haven't checked the weather maps yet, but it's made me realize that this will have to be a "play it by ear" trip because of the late date of departure. There's no point in rushing around to get out of here tomorrow, only to languish in Denver for a few days, waiting for the weather to clear. Luckily, I'm staying with family on the way, people who are as flexible as I am striving to be.

Happy notes:

• I have a CLEAN DOG! Echo reluctantly skulked into the new bathroom last night at my urging, climbed into the tub and allowed me to bathe her with the new hand-held shower. There was much sighing on both our parts, and a couple of dog-dirty-looks, but she is now a traveling companion I can stand to smell in close quarters for 2700 miles.
• Gasoline was $1.98 per gallon yesterday!
• The bathroom will be finished today!

And, it looks like another glorious fall day out there in East TN. Another reason to question being in such a rush to leave this great environment for the Land of Rain (Washington State).

Blogging takes a breather

I've been running so fast, I find it's the afternoon before I think about sitting down to pontificate via the blog.

Today, it was off to the laundromat, so I'd have something clean to pack. Then to the hardware store for some odds & ends that Joe needed, then to the bank to set up an account for the rental properties' management while I'm gone, then back to the hardware store with Joe's additional list delivered by cell phone. Now I'm laying out slightly damp clothes and making packing decisions. Tonight, Echo gets a bath (shhhhh--don't tell her).

Tomorrow I have to drive to Mo-Town for Fedex (sending boxes to the west coast to wait for me), returns of unused stuff to Lowes, then fill up with gas, shop for dog food and Tylenol. Drop off food to Hannah's house. Call TV & phone companies to suspend service. Send stuff to Ray. Send Netflix discs back. Start cleaning up and shutting down the house systems.

Friday morning I will attend my last knitting group, then come home and throw everything in the car and go. At least that's the plan. We shall see if it all comes to fruition.

*******

I know I should have something profound to say about the election, but I just plain don't. I am in denial, I suppose. The news today that Michael Creighton died of cancer actually takes precedence for me. I have spent many a happy hour completely absorbed in Mr. Creighton's remarkable books (including the obscure ones, written under pseudonyms), and the news that there will be only one more, published posthumously, fills me with grief.

Weather Geek

I am a total weather nerd. I confess that whenever I'm lonely for my dad, who passed away in 1996, I'll turn on the Weather Channel. It was his favorite, (next to Rocky & Bullwinkle, of course). Just hearing, "and now, your local forecast on the eights!" comforts me in an odd way.

So I've been looking ahead, coordinating my proposed itinerary with the Motel 6 guidebook, the Dog-Friendly website and the Weather Channel. It's looking good--even though I'm projecting out more than a week, the chance for precipitation, and especially ice & snow, looks minimal.

The weather here in East TN is drop-dead gorgeous. Every dawn brings another fabulous fall day--chilly morning, warm and sunny day and comfortable night with billions of stars overhead.
Clear and pleasant. Gentle breezes. Our daily walks soothe my spirit, schlepping through the forest, crunching leaves and acorns underfoot, the smell of warm pine on the wind, the sounds of birds and squirrels and other forest denizens all around me. It's like falling in love everyday.

*******

I actually packed two boxes for Washington yesterday. And cleaned out the freezer. And finished half of Brother's hat. Joe continues plugging away on getting the bathroom finished. It's the angles that are giving him fits. He spends all day measuring and cutting boards, then trying to fit in place, then tromping outside and chipping with chisel, planing and sanding, over and over, back and forth, trying to get things right on the overhead beams. It looks fabulous.

I am off to one of the rental houses this morning, to supervise the installation of a gas log fireplace insert. That should keep 'em warm enough.

Life is good.

Four Days To Go

I am adding things to my list faster than I'm crossing off the things I already have on the list. This does not bode well for an on-time departure.

I simply must wash the dog before we go. She reeks of odiferous dogginess. The idea of spending 2700 miles in the car smelling her presence is more than I can take. As soon as Joe hooks up the hand-held shower, into the new tub Echo will go! Then she will be mad at me for a few days following that activity.

I have to do laundry before I can pack a suitcase for myself, and I might as well change the sheets too, so I can come home to a fresh bed. Then there's the fridge. Thankfully, friends have offered to take my onions, potatoes, fresh produce, milk, eggs etc. so it won't go to waste, or worse, sit in the fridge rotting for months. Better add a last minute run to the dump to that list too.

I'll just keep on plugging away at it. Friday is the day!

Oooof!

Getting out of bed this morning was an Olympic event. After my marathon painting and hefting and hands-and-knees scrubbing of yesterday, my body is in full-fledged rebellion. I am currently waiting for my stomach to wake up so I can eat something and then down an 800 mg ibuprofen, so I can actually move around today without groaning.

But the good news is the painting is done. Finis. Well, almost. One quick roller final coat on both sides of the closet door, and that end pronouncement will be true.

I generally like to paint. I find it contemplative and relaxing, monotonous yet rhythmic. But I've reached my personal limit of brush-brush-think-think-roll-roll this time. I want desperately for this to all be done, so I can get on the road and do my other favorite contemplative activity, driving America's highways.

MaryAnn asks: "Why do you like driving cross-country, when you never look out the windows at the scenery?" She and I have a running joke that I drive with a mono-maniacal focus on the view straight ahead. She has followed me in town repeatedly, waving, honking and trying to get my attention, to no avail. I am not to be distracted from my mission! Maybe it's that I never expect to see anyone I know in town, or that I am focused on driving super-safely in an all-too familiar environment.

Out on the road, I am much more relaxed, not so destination-driven. I do look at scenery, and traveling with Echo forces me to stop each hour, walk around and scope the sights while she smells the scents of other traveling pets, her very favorite activity.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. There is still much to do: the laundry, the packing, the cleaning up so I don't have to come home to a dirty house. A year ago today, (I just realized), I had my mastectomy. How different my concerns are today, compared to 365 days ago. Now there's something to contemplate and be grateful for.

More Painting!

Today is the last day I have to paint. I am thoroughly bored with this project now, and tired to death of sanding, priming, painting, staining, finishing and lugging lumber in and out of the house.

My schedule for today is this:

Take 10 beam-wrapping boards off my dining room table and lay out across porch railings. Sand. Wipe down dust. Coat with polyurethane. Wipe drips. Let dry. Put back on my dining room table. Clean brush and hands.

Paint bathroom closet. Clean rollers and brushes. Paint bathroom walls. Paint baseboards. Drag closet door out of basement. Paint closet door. Paint door and window mouldings. Let dry. Paint everything again. Clean rollers and brushes again. Drag closet door back into basement. Put all paint and supplies away.

Wash drywall mud off of bathroom floor. Wipe up inevitable paint drips before they dry.

Have several glasses of wine. Collapse.

Here is Joe's list for next week:

Wrap beams with Pam's beautifully stained and finished lumber. Install fan and trim sides. Re-route and install heater vent. Install hand-held shower. Install vanity, top, sink, & faucet. Hook up plumbing to sink. Install medicine cabinet and trim sides. Hook up electrical outlets and wire sconces. Install closet door. Build window frame and install window. Cut formica shelves. Cut closet shelves. Cut and install baseboards. Cut and install mouldings. Caulk everything.

And he thinks he'll be done on Monday????

HA!