Reviewing a productive day - 5 days later

I was quite productive last Sunday. I got up earlier than I am wont to do when I don't have to be anywhere. It's been hot and humid so the AC is on, even though I keep it at 78-80. I figure 78-80 non-muggy degrees is sufficiently comfortable for me AND the cats. Anything lower is a waste of energy.

My first completed task last Sunday, before the day got hot was to bag up two more containers of yard waste. This is left over from Carole and David's visit. I have not felt like going out and shoving more branches into containers. Now, I need to go get yard waste stickers so these can be taken to the curb and the last little bit, which you can see on the ground behind these two can but put in cans and taken to the curb.

When that was done, I fixed my driver's side seat in the Jeep. It's the original 1997 seat and, quite naturally, has started to split and crack in places. It's still incredibly comfortable, as Jeep seats go, but even the seat cover couldn't hold it together. All I can say is, "Red Green would be proud." I have to wash the seat cover. I hit a bump and spilled Dr Pepper all over me and the seat cover and then didn't put the windows up when we got a half-inch of rain three weeks ago. I thought about taping the other seat so they match, even though the other seat has no cracks.

Then I sprayed the yellow jacket nest in my storage shed. I'm really the kind who understands these insects' roll in pollinating crops and killing pests. They are not as efficient as bees because they don't visit the wide variety of plants that bees do. Yellow jackets are attracted to sugar so they will pollinate nectar producing flowers but also go after soda cans and tree sap. They are really aggressive when disturbed and can sting repeatedly.

I had a small nest in the corner of the deck which I was able to dislodge with the broom. This one, being in the shed, had to be killed so they would go somewhere else. I can't get things out of the shed if I have to worry about a nest. Nests are used just once, so those gigantic basketball-size nests you see are maximum size and are a one-year thing. That's 10 to 15,000 yellow jackets. I hosed it down with flying insect killer. I need to look this weekend to make sure it's inactive and then remove it.

The final task I actually finished last night, which prompted me to write up this post. I have this corner of the hall that had a poster which wouldn't stay up on the wall. I drew a sunflower some years ago, when I was in therapy. I liked the image and framed it. It had hung in this corner for awhile but the hanger on the back of the poster frame kept falling out. I didn't want to replace the poster frame. It's lightweight and perfect for the drawing.

In the 3M furnace air filters that I buy they include these picture hanging strips. As I always buy air filters and then try to remember to change them every 3 - 4 months, I have received well over a dozen of these little packages. I finally decided this was the perfect picture to try to hang using them.

First, you have to wash the wall with rubbing alcohol and then attach one side of the strips to the wall. They don't recommend you put these on wallpaper. This is paint so, in theory, if I go to change the picture, I can remove these without damage to the wall. They tell you to attach the hangers to the wall and let them set for an hour. Okay, I attached the hangers to the wall, matched up another set and attached that to the back of the frame and let them sit, intending to come back in an hour and hang up the drawing.

Well, if you know me, you know what came next. I got distracted by bright, shiny something else and didn't get around tuit until last night after a Great Lakes SEE meeting. I picked up the poster, matched the hangers with each other and pushed each one onto the ones on the wall. There was an audible "snap" when they were together. Viola.


So far, so good. It seems held to the wall very nicely. The poster frame is lighter weight than something with glass would be at this size.

I think this weekend, I'll tackle some sorting. I've been in a bit of a pothole and actually accomplishing things helps me see a bigger picture.

Beverage: Dr Pepper

Deb

The Philosophy of Potholes

A friend of mine from World of Warcraft is going through a rough patch. The love of his life is going to school 6 states removed from him. They aren't going to marry until she has finished her Masters and has a job. A worthy goal. He's in a job he marginally likes, no, tolerates, because it provides for the necessities; beans and franks, gas, rent on an apartment, Internet access and health insurance. He has decided that going back to school to follow an interest he has will, in the long run, yield the kind of happiness and security he seeks. He's taking steps to get into the program he wants and will pick up a few classes this fall at a local community college. The program he wants will mean quitting his job and moving to a new climate in a state 4 states north of where he currently lives. It will mean going from an 8 hour drive to see his mom and brother to a 12 hour drive. He will be closer to his love as she winds down her degree.

Sounds good, right? Sounds like he has a road map for where he's going, right? On the surface. Underneath, he's so very unsure about everything. He has a deep, abiding belief in God and how God is leading him. It's just that the human side which does not like surprises and wants to be in control of the situation sees so many missing pieces in the above scenario that he has made himself sick.

Conversations with him have me philosophical about my own life. My road, particularly of late, has been anything but smooth. It's easy to see the road only and not the life around the road. I know I fail at that but I try. I was giving him this image in the hopes that it helps him. I can't take credit for this. I learned it when I was in therapy as my marriage fell apart. My wonderful therapist, Nancy, had developed this theory. I have found it holds true the more mileage I put on my life.

These are the stages of dealing with what life offers you. I offered this last July, but in an abbreviated form.

• You walk down the road and fall into a deep, huge pothole you didn't see and can't get out of.
• You walk down the road, see a huge, deep pothole ahead. You fall in and can't get out.
• You walk down the road, see a huge, deep pothole, try to avoid it, but fall in and can't get out.
• You walk down the road, see a huge, deep pothole, try to avoid it, but fall in, yet get out.
• You walk down the road, see a huge, deep pothole and avoid it.
• You walk down the road, see a medium-size pothole, fall in but get out.
• You walk down the road, see a small pothole and trip over it.
• You walk down the road, see a bump and wonder that you ever thought it was as big as the road.
• You walk down the road admiring the view.

If you've followed me since before October's financial fiasco, you can probably see where I've been on the journey as I deal with the potholes. Yup, I fall in. I can fall in, a lot. There are times where I don't feel I can get out. But, in the end, it turns out that what I thought was a huge, horrible hole from which I would never emerge, was a bump in the road.

That's what I've laid out for him. Right now, I would say he sees the pothole and sees it as a wide expanse of black. He could get around it but he's scared he's going to fall in and not get out. If he falls in, all is lost and this course he has charted out for himself gets lost. From my point-of-view, he's looking at a baseball-size hole in the road and I'm wondering why he's staring at it.

It's hard, when you're struggling with things, to see them as bumps, blips or baseball-sized holes in your road of life. When you're struggling, everything gets magnified. I can spend hours in the bathroom crying over what is perceived to be a road-sized pothole simply because I've hit a rough patch. To be sure, there are stretches where your road is not a 6-lane, concrete surface devoid of cars where you can floor it and test the limits of you. There are days when it resembles the road to the left, muddy, wet and nearly impassible. How can I go on when it's like this?

The best advice I can give him, and me, is that this is temporary and there is beauty to be found in the mud. As much as I know all of this, things happen that skew my perspective. The pothole is not the blip in the road you see. It's a whale of whopper, feet deep and impassible. There is no way around it! Why can't you see that? I'm just going to sit here until someone fixes it.

I told him that it's okay to wallow. It's okay to feel sorry for yourself. Get it out of your system. I don't know when it was, maybe some time in April after the last problem with my checking account and the $74 overdraft fee, but I woke up one morning and realized that these were just baseball-sized holes. I do my best and go on. I fall in or trip over them, to be sure, but they aren't deep and I can get out.

He will be fine. He has a plan and a direction. Maybe he should look at the sides of this pothole in which he finds himself. There might be something interesting on the walls.

Beverage: Irish Breakfast tea

Deb

Interesting

I really should go to bed as I was up early, but I was reading the news feeds and this article struck me. I should also pill Betsy and Rascal and I guess reading the feeds is one way to avoid doing it. 

For those who don't want to go to the link, the article is entitled "Half of all Friends Replaced Every 7 Years". Here is a of pull-out which give the essence of the article.

"Sociologist Gerald Mollenhorst of Utrecht University in the Netherlands...conducted a survey of 1,007 people ages 18 to 65, and then contacted the participants seven years later. From the original group, 604 people were re-interviewed. The survey contained questions such as: Who do you talk with, regarding personal issues? Who helps you with DIY in your home? Who do you pop by to see? Where did you get to know that person? And where do you meet that person now?

The results showed that personal network sizes remained stable, but that many members of the network were new. About 30 percent of discussion partners and practical helpers had the same position in a typical subject's network seven years later. And only 48 percent were still part of the network. This finding goes against previous research which had showed that social network sizes are shrinking."

I'm thinking, as I look through my address book, his idea is reasonably spot on. I don't make close friends quickly. I tend to keep people at arm's length until an incident or just time itself has allowed us to get to know each other better. Then, I'm very loyal. The friends I've known for a long time will tell you we've "had words" with each other, even come to the point of thinking our friendship wasn't worth saving. 

But I was told by a therapist when I was going through my divorce that ALL relationships go through a rocky period. It's what you do when the friendship gets to those rocks that defines where it's going to go. If one or both of you put no stock in any part of the friendship, it won't survive even the smallest of hurts. If you do value the other person, you will find the kernel that keeps you together through the very rough patches. 

Remember the movie, "The Seven Year Itch"? A devoted husband is tempted by a neighbor who happens to be Marilyn Monroe. The movie is based on the premise that the hardest year of a marriage is year #7. I remember in one of my philosophy classes in college, the teacher mentioned that it's not just a premise and it's not just in marriages. Conversations have a "7 minute cool down". After 7 minutes, there is a natural pause. She always waited until the class naturally came to that point and then started class. It got so we would try to talk through it but would fail. She said friendships have a "rule of 7". If you can last through year number 7, it will be a life-long friendship. But it does go back to how much are you willing to work to keep going through the natural adversity and the natural human-ness of life. 

So here's to my friends, old and new, who have seen me through college, marriage, work, child, work, divorce and now middle age. Regardless of where, in that list, you joined my journey with yours, I hope we can and will work through those pot holes inevitable in any journey. 

Beverage:  Nothing as I'm going to bed after I pill the cats. 

Deb