While things are Ok at work and home, I can not get a repetitive thought out of my head.  That I need to be away.  I don’t want all of these trappings in my life - for that is what they are doing, trapping me.

I want to be free from it all.  (Don’t worry husband, you are safe…for now)

But then, I guess the rest of the world probably feels that way too.  In fact, some would call it retirement.  That is a depressing thought.  I want it now.  I want to escape from most of civilization - I want to live off of my land (with all of the modern conveniences, of course).  I want to have my own schedule and, and, just AND.

Part of me thinks that if these feelings are so strong, that they are invading pretty much every moment, awake or not, then I must be true to myself and work towards that goal sooner rather than later.  Or, shall this too pass?  I doubt it, I have repressed these feelings for so long.  Time just feels short somehow.

Maybe if I avoided the news and media more I wouldn’t feel this way quite so much.  Everything just feels so overwhelming at times.

After spending two consecutive days tiling the floor (which turned out to be a MUCH bigger project than I intended - I thought 2 days, tops.  Not so, but I digress.  I do that alot.) It looked like we were running low of thin-set mortar.  So, after my helpers went home to recover, I made a mad dash to Home Depot for more mud.  I arrive at 5:15pm to find that they closed at 5.  Oh well, I understand with it being New Years’ Eve and all.  So I decided that the husband and I deserved a DQ Blizzard.

Drats, they were closed too.  Hate that.  But then, I spy in the distance (OK, 300 feet) Starbucks!  Score!  I succumbed and treated myself using my B-Day gift card.  But, being a piggy, I bought 2 - for ME!  You know, one for later.  (Did you know that the Frappuccino’s freeze well?  They make a great breakfast.  I am just saying.)  As I am leaving the drive-thru (I love you drive-thru Starbucks!) I spy a crisis forming in front of me. 

Just over the hedge, in the street, a woman is screaming.  A large suburban is stopped and it is obvious something bad has happened.  I see people starting to gather, but they remained 40 feet away.  I stopped the truck, jumped out, went over the hedge, dodged oncoming traffic, and raced to the man laying face down in the street.  He was unconscious, but I could feel a pulse.  His wife, who was still in hysterics, kept trying to pull him up and roll him over.  I got her a little calmer and finally another bystander stepped up to deal with the woman.  Others were gathered around the cars involved and I honestly don’t know who hit the man or what the situation was, only that a man was down and no one else stepped forward.  If I am ever in that position, I hope someone steps forward.  It is a lot to just hold someones hand, check for a pulse, and be a force of calm and reason.

Anyway, I could see two people on the phone with 9-1-1 and they both asked me questions about the man’s condition.  I was surprised at how calm I was.  I was grateful he was breathing because I did not want to turn him over.  He eventually regained consciousness and was uncertain what happened.  He did recognize his wife’s voice and I was able to get her to come around and hold his hand, though, in her hysterics she kept yanking on him.  In response to her hysterics, he told her he was ok and was going to be fine.  I don’t think he was quite sure of that, but she needed to hear it.  He was able to move his fingers, but not his legs.  It was pitch black, so I could not tell if he was bleeding, but then again, I didn’t move him.  I was pretty certain there was a spinal cord injury, and I knew that the paramedics were better equipped to assess the situation.  When they finally arrived (a LONG time), I stepped away.  I told them I saw nothing and gave them the vitals as best I could.  I then calmly recrossed the street and got into my truck.  My car door was still open, my lights were still on, and my wallet was still on the seat. 

Thank goodness for karma.  All in all, I think I deserved those 2 Starbucks drinks.  But that is just me, and I am searching hard for justification.

No news on the man or his condition, but then, it was a VERY busy night and gun shots and general violence marred the entire evening around town.  So I prefer to believe that no news is good news.  And, I am grateful it was not me unconscious in the middle of the road, nor was I in the vehicle that hit him.  I hope I was helpful.

Lambchop and I are ridiculously bad at follow-thru.  I am not sure if it is a good thing that we have found something we do so well together, or a bad thing because neither of us ever gets around to finishing what we start.

For example, more than 7 years ago we began re-doing our fireplace room.  We call it the fireplace room because, well, it has a fireplace and we just don’t know what makes a room a family room versus a living room.  That is how we roll.  But I digress. 

First, we removed the horrid fake panelling crap.  Then we looked at the fireplace and decided it wasn’t working for us.  It was designed a bit like an H with two columns going up the ceiling, so we removed all of the bricks above the mantle line with the intention of installing a mantle.  Interestingly enough, it is not as easy as one would think to purchase a mantle.  Especially when married to Lambchop.  He makes these kinds of projects very difficult.  Being perfect, I know that I am not the problem here - it is definitely all HIM.  Once we removed the brick, we found a strange wall issue where the sheet rock did not line up properly.  One was unable to see this imperfection when the bricks were installed - they were the camouflage.  Completely inexperienced in these projects, we tore into the sheet rock so that we could “fix” things.

That didn’t work quite as well as we would have liked.  Two years later, the wall was still an empty shell with no insulation or sheet rock.   We had also ripped out all of the carpeting - in for a penny, in for a pound.  Eventually, I finally sucked it up and re-hung the sheet rock.  Over the rest of that year, I managed to tape and skim coat the seams, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was good enough.  The project stayed in that condition for some time as Lambchop made all kinds of big plans that were outside of our budget and experience level requiring outside assistance, meaning nothing moved forward.

Then, the air conditioner died.  My lovely brother-in-law came to our rescue in 112 degree heat and replaced the unit.  It was a big financial impact, but our choices were limited.  Did you know that canned food goes bad within a week of temperatures that high , and that your refrigerator will function really poorly with ambient temperatures above 95?  It was an interesting experiment I would like to never repeat.  But there was a problem, and three visits later, his crew decided there was a leak in the wall where I had put the sheet rock.  They insisted that I (the stupid girl!) must have hit the line in the wall and that was why the new A/C unit was having issues.  I, much to my embarrassment, confessed that it had been over two years since I had installed that sheet rock and the A/C unit had been fine until this year - I knew that was not the problem, but, they insisted, and they have penises and I was quickly outvoted.  They took a hammer and destroyed the wall.  They busted through only to find that the leak was OUTSIDE, where THEY had been working.  Bastards - I told you (Vaginas: 1, Penises: -5).  And then the wall was back to square one with a floor-to-ceiling void.  Again, Lambchop schemed ways to “improve” the room.  I agree that some of his ideas are wonderful - but we still had the same limitations as before.

After Lambchop kept whining about how that room was never going to be finished, I explained that his grandiose ideas were holding us back.  His plans required significant, invasive changes (recessed lighting) and that while I wanted that too - it was just too expensive.  We got estimates, lamented the high costs of our tastes and decided go ahead and install the lights.  One decision done.

While the electrician was here, he advised us that our electrical panel was sub-par and at an advanced risk of fire.  We had been having a LOT of problems with popped circuits and low voltage problems.  Major issues, so his diagnosis was unexpected but not surprising (yes we got multiple opinions).  So much for the recessed lights!  But, we do have a new electrical panel which will come in handy for all of the power demands my uber-high tech husband places on the circuits.  The electrician also installed a new power circuit for the planned flat screen TV and did some electrical work in Lambchop’s bathroom that is a definite improvement.  Thankfully, the electrical guy had a friend that did sheet rock work and I am happy to report that today, as the temperature dropped to 34 degrees (hello, this is California, that is not supposed to happen!) - we have sheet rock and insulation.  Woo-hoo!

We are both positively giddy and feel like two little kids on Christmas day - we have a wall, we have a wall.  Yippee!  Who would have thought we would be so easy to please?  My family has heard rumors that a wall has been installed - but after seven years, they are waiting to see it to believe it.  When discussing what to do for Christmas presents, I forewarned them that they were each getting a paintbrush and instead of the traditional Christmas dinner - I was having a painting, pizza, and poker party!  Go team!

Just wait until I ask for their help with the flooring.  The good news is that they probably have a few years before they have to worry about it. 

I really wish I had the foresight to take a “before” picture.

It hit me the moment I left the warmth of the heavy down comforter, heavily loaded with 2 extra blankets and the warmth of Lambchop slumbering away.  Even the cats had taken sanctuary on the big warm bed.  Visible breath i\was the first of many signs that it i\was time to start setting the thermostat for earlier in the morning.

I crept down the staircase and the dog did not stir.  The bird grunted, as if willing me away so he could stay nestled on his warm perch just a bit longer - five more minutes mom, please, five more minutes.  I get the most eager of the animals fed and Liberty makes no fuss about waiting a few degrees before we walk.  When we do walk, the sun has been up for just about an hour.  There are no sounds but for the rustling of leaves and branches as the heavy morning fog condensates and water droplets fall - drip, drip.  The fog stayed heavy all day long - for several days really.  The air and ground heavy with moisture, a deep chill settling in for what is hinting to be a cold wet winter.

There is so much peace upon us this morning - despite the cold.  Maybe because of the cold.  Only the brave or the insane have left their warm abodes for a walk around the neighborhood.  But it is in these times that my neighborhood reveals its beauty, it is so quiet and at peace.  Some of the neighboring houses have water features near their entryways - I see them softly lit on the mornings we beat the sunrise and we can hear the running water as it cascades down each rocky facade.  Occasionally, a dog will bark - there is no shushing from the owner.  There are no birds and the normally busy cars sit quietly, patiently waiting for their drivers to stir and seize the day. 

Back home I re-seized the down comforter - content that Liberty had been fed and walked, and that there was peace in my tiny little corner of the world.

I think that if fruit had more protein, I would need nothing else (except my beloved dark chocolate M&M’s and my intravenous supply of Diet Coke).

Today’s fruit consumption:

4 bananas with JUST the right green-to-yellow ratio

1.5 cups of apple

3 kiwis

1.25 cups of blueberries

under consideration: an orange, tempting me from across the room.  However, I think my guts would rebel if I pushed my luck and ate it, so I will likely find another snack since I do plan on sleeping this evening and not carrying on a stimulating conversation with my internal organs.

I LOVE fruit.  Both Lambchop and a dear friend of mine (are crazy and) will only eat fruit if someone cuts it up for them (spoiled!), but even then might not eat it.  And yet, I consume enough fruit for a family of seven.  Bananas are a relatively new addition, at least in these quantities.  I just can not get enough.  Maybe my potassium is low?   All I know is that when they have that perfect green/yellow ratio, I simply cannot control myself and if I don’t eat them fast enough they continue to ripen (or over-ripen in my opinion), and I have to feed them to the dog, or the husband.  I might need a 12-step program soon, though I imagine my fancing them will eventually pass.  I am loving that oranges are about to come back into season (they are in season for a reason people).   

Now vegetables are an entirely different subject - those are borderline gross.  While I realize that not everything I classify as a vegetable is in fact a vegetable but, I treat them like vegetables so you will just have to accept that they are vegetables in my fragile and sheltered, little world.  I like green beans, corn, tomatoes, squash, zucchini, broccoli, carrots…hmm - that might be it.  I will tolerate cooked onions.  I loathe anything with cilantro (spawn of satan) and raw onions are an absolute deal breaker.

Conversely, my husband LOVES onions and LOATHES (with great passion) tomatoes.  WTH?  How are we together?  We can’t even share a sandwich because he won’t eat it if it touched a tomato - one cannot even touch the plate.  I feel similarly about onions, though I can put my big girl pants on and just take them off of said shared meal.  Lambchop also loathes squash/zucchini and between the two of us, there are only so many vegetable choices out there.

Speaking of squash/zucchini, would you like to know WHY Lambchop does not like squash/zucchini?  “Because it is too much like a tomato.”  Really?  Seriously?  I happen to love them both and I don’t think they are alike in any way.  They are about as alike as he and I apparently.  World, do you see what I have to deal with?

When I had my mammogram, the expectation was a routine, baseline screening.  I had been having random breast pains with no specific location that I could pinpoint and they were not what I would call severe.  My self-exam yielded no cause for concern and my annual well-woman visit found no problems either.  Still, to be safe, my doctor decided that at 35, it was time for a baseline mammogram so that we could track any changes.
 
I put my big girl underpants on and braved the visit all by myself for a show down with the dreaded mammo machine - the one I hear women all around me telling horror stories about.  Oh, the pain, the pain!
 
I was met by a very nice woman who had me change and took me to a digital imaging room.  She took the necessary pictures while I waited patiently in various positions with my girl parts in a vice.  Thankfully, it was no where near as bad as others had lead me to believe.  And then…and then she got quiet and said she wanted to re-do one picture.  After that was done, she asked if I wanted to see.  Always curious, I said absolutely!
 
She showed me the pictures (scans?) she had taken and when she got to the last one, I noticed immediately that it was different.  When I asked what it was she was honest and said she did not know.  She called in her supervisor who immediately stepped in and took about 10 more deep, probing pictures.  These were a bit more uncomfortable than the first set, but given the gravity of the situation, there was no room for vanity or complaint.
 
The supervisor then called in a specialist and they met for about 20 minutes behind closed doors while I waited in a hallway.  The original technician came by to talk with me a few times and try to reassure me and make small talk.  Finally, they opened the door and called me in to an office where I could see all of the irregular scans on the wall.  The good news is that they felt highly confident that it was a completely benign mass.  In fact, they felt confident enough to tell me that I wouldn’t need to return for 5 more years.  That certainly sounded comforting, but since that breast had been hurting, and we could now see a mass - I felt it best to get a second opinion.  I should also say that they were curious about said mass because they had not seen anything like it and the doctor said she was going to go and look at all of the textbooks to see if she could find something to compare it to - how could they be confident it is benign if they haven’t seen anything like that before?  Rather unsettling.
 
As stated in an earlier post - the mass has been removed and all is well in the land of my boobies.  But what REALLY stood out to me was the rest of that day.  It was a Monday, and it was hectic, but when I left the medical office, I felt so hollow.  I just wanted to grab the person next to me and tell him/her what I just heard, the thing I just saw.  I wanted them to understand how scared I was.  It was hard to contemplate going back to work - hard to function as though it was JUST another day.  Of course, I had told my immediate family that a small (a tiny betrayal of truth) mass was in my armpit/breast - and that the doctors felt it was benign and not to worry.  In truth, I wasn’t terribly worried, at least not consciously.  I genuinely felt that it was benign.  But, I was really unprepared with how to go about the next days and weeks while determinations were made as to what to do about it and if in fact it was benign like we all believed.
 
I guess my point is that, as humans, we need to take the time and acknowledge other people.  You just don’t know anything about the people that cross your path in a day - they just might be going through something scary and unnerving.  Maybe for themselves, maybe with a family member.  I did not discuss my scare, concerns, or treatment with my coworkers - so I had to bury it inside myself and not let the wall show any cracks.  In fact, I was chided over missing a couple days of work during our peak season, despite all of the additional hours I worked on other day.  Some people suck, but we can make the choice to have compassion and courage, to be empathetic to the suffering of others, to hold ourselves to a higher standard.  I hope I do not forget that.  Hold the door open for a stranger, say hello to people that you pass.  Offer to help somebody carry a heavy item or hold their hand if they look scared.
 
Above all, be true to yourself and listen to your body and your heart.