Bed and Breakfast

Warning: There's  picture of a dead squirrel so be fairly warned before you scroll down!


Last night was my first night in the new place. I got a big dose of Northern MI kindness when the landlord offered to help me move my sofa, bed and Wally. At the moment that's all the furniture I own so moving wasn't really all that difficult. Although we did look a bit like Sanford and Son on the way to the
"chalet."

In case you were wondering, yes, that's a water-ski tow rope. Hey, whatever works.

I'll be honest, I liked this place so much when I first saw it, I didn't even really bother to check out the details. Thankfully there were no huge surprises. There's a bathroom. There's hot water. The best surprise, in fact, was this:

I'll never need to look for a bottle opener as long as I live here! I decided to call the place The Man-Chalet after I found it, because clearly a man remodeled this place. Or lived here before me. Or  both. 

Surprise number two came this morning. The sun woke me up, which is a good thing, because it meant  it was too quiet for anything else to wake me. I walked out on the front porch to find this:

I burst out laughing. The landlord has been telling me about this flying squirrel that was causing some ruckus up in the roof while he was fixing the place up. He was determined to catch the thing so it wouldn't run around in my roof all night. Of course he's been trying to catch it for weeks and it finally takes the bait on my first night! Poor little guy appeared to just sort of fly right into the trap. Good thing I've been well conditioned to tolerate rodents after my stint in the rat shack years ago:

Although I'll admit I'm sort of hoping we're done killing things on my front porch for awhile. I prefer bacon for breakfast, thank you. 

Livin' the Dream

If you ask me what I came into this world to do, I will tell you. I came to live out loud. Emile Zola

Finding the words to start the blog back up again has been difficult. As most of you already know, my mom was hit by a truck and killed while riding her bike in January. I've done a lot of writing since then, but when it came to the blog, it was hard to find a way to go from a blog post that said, "I came to live out loud," to one where I write about my mom dying. 

I knew the words would come at some point and today they did. Most days I do pretty well, but today was a rough one. I spent the morning hitting up garage sales looking for furniture for my new place. From out of nowhere it hit me-  

My mom will never get to see my new place. 

A friend who lost her mom years ago told me that "firsts" will be the hardest. The first Mother's Day. The first Christmas. The first new anything. 

My tactic on the rare rough day is this: find a way, any way, to embrace the sadness, then let it go and move forward. Today my way was this: I remembered what my dad said about the day she died. He said she was singing while she got ready to ride her bike because she was so happy to go enjoy the sunny day. 

Simply put, she was living out loud. 

So, I'd better get on with it then and get back to some noisy living too. Next week, I move into this place:

Ski and run trails out the back door. A short walk to the beach. A bike path out front. When I sent a friend the pictures, his response was, "Living the dream." 

So here's to living the dream. Out loud. 

Live, Laugh, Lunar Eclipse

If you ask me what I came into this world to do, I will tell you.
I came to live out loud.  
Emile Zola

The Cape

Some of you used to follow my old blog so you've probably read this one before. I wrote it almost a year ago, after a rough few months.  While I wouldn't want to relive the heartache that brought me to the day I wrote that post, I'm glad it happened. I ended up a better person. 

This weekend was a rough one. My feelings were hurt. First I wanted to run away. Then I wanted to break shit. Then I wanted to cry. Then I stood up for myself. Then I listened to what the other person had to say. Then I felt better. 

A year ago I probably would've quit after the standing up for myself part. Today I realized something. The feeling better part comes a lot faster if you listen. 

And this time I didn't even need my cape.

January 13, 2010

He's one of those who knows that life is just a leap of faith. Spread your arms and hold your breath and always trust your cape." Guy Clark

I'm not always sensible. I almost always follow my heart instead of my head. I know life would probably be much easier the other way around. I'm not yet convinced, though, that it would be as much fun. Until I am, I've come to accept that following my less rational organ will sometimes lead to having it broken. I've also learned, though, that although I initially vow never to follow it again, I always will. Call me naive. I prefer adventurous. I've also learned that sometimes the best thing to do when you feel like crawling in a cave and licking your wounds is to just put some bandaids on and head out into the world again.

This time, I had no choice. A friend came to visit with his 4 year old and 4 year olds don't let you lick your wounds. They drag your ass out into the world and show you that you can make it your own. They look at a piece of metal and instead of seeing monkey bars they see a rocket ship. They climb to the top of the jungle gym without worry because they trust that they can always get out of what they get into. They put on capes and believe they have superpowers.

They convince you to put on yours so you'll have superpowers too. At some point you start to realize you do have superpowers. The power to heal your own wounds. The power to laugh at yourself. The power to start over. The power to know that if you jump off that cliff just one more time maybe this time you'll actually fly.

Underwear

I've discovered a new way to tell if it's been a good day. It's all about how many pairs of underwear you go through.

No, I don't need Depends. Yet.

Tuesday was, however, a three underwear day. I got up, put on clean undies and went downhill skiing. I know what you're still thinking here and no, I didn't pee my pants out of fear. Although this was quite possible since, on my first time off the bunny hill, we took a lift up that said it went to some green runs. Of course, we got to the top and the green run was closed so my very first time down got to be on a blue, in front of a whole group of people taking a lesson.

Let's just say I now know how to fall.

At least I didn't pee.

Anyway, when I got home, everything was a bit sweaty so I took a shower and put on dry undies. Four hours later, I went cross country skiing before dance class. After two hours of skiing, I once again had sweaty undies and I figured, "Who really wants to dance with a girl wearing sweaty undies?" So I put on pair number three.

That's when I realized I knew it was a good day because, really, how could it not be a good day when you need three pairs of underwear?

Of course, when I'm old and I start going through three pairs of underwear I probably won't be this happy but I'll worry about that then. At the moment I just need to go shopping for some more underwear....

Snowstorm

I've been waiting for the first big storm. Yeah, I know, by March this probably won't be so much fun. Especially if the landlord stops spoiling me by snowblowing my driveway. I should probably feel guilty for spending 2 minutes shoveling the sidewalk while she slaves away at the whole driveway and part of the alley.....

Of course, then I didn't even pull the van out because I figure with even the main roads covered, I could just ski to work.

Earlier in the day I took a run in the blizzard to check out the snow. I'm pretty sure the salmon fishing is done for the year.

As are the picnics.

I'm pretty sure that my favorite running path will be knee deep in snow by tomorrow.

Which doesn't really matter because it will just become a new place to ski!

Ok, yes, I know I've been slacking on the blog. This is a good thing though, really. When I slack on the blog it's 'cause I'm out there living the life that then gets blogged about on the blog. So- since the last post a lot has happened:

Thanksgiving- with family! This feels like a luxury since I've lived far from most of my hundred or so aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. for the last 20 years. I'm fulling taking advantage of being the new one around by stealing my cousin's place on the couch when he gets clean up duty and I am exempt.... Of course his dog then got me back by waking me up from the couch with a big slobbery kiss... So we're even, right?

Dancing- in heels! Yep, that's right Pop, your baby actually finally tried to act like a girl. And I know what you're thinking and no I did not fall on my ass. Yet. But then there is still one week of cha cha lessons left.

Skiing- and not falling off the chairlift! Although I will admit to stabbing my patient teacher in the leg with my pole, pushing him out of my way and numerous other completely selfish acts while exiting the lift in a panic.  I finally realized that the easiest way off is just to let the thing hit you in the rear end and push you forward. Although I have a feeling at some point this will backfire and it will be embarrassing, very embarrassing.

Snowball fights- and chocolate martinis! After 15 years in SoCal, I finally got to a Christmas Open House when there was actually real snow. Luckily I didn't wind up face down in the snow after the chocolate martinis. Someone probably should've told me BEFORE I started drinking them that they have 5 shots in them. We short people need warnings on these sorts of things.

Of course there's also been some unpacking of boxes, purchasing of warm clothing, shoveling of snow, driving on ice and probably a whole lot of other fun stuff I don't remember 'cause life is just too much fun to remember all the details!