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Category Archives: Symphony of the Redwoods

 

Mmmm, moldy cheese.

Mmmm, moldy cheese. Not! This was given with the best of intentions. I don't know if Gran can even see the mold any more. If she could she would tell me to cut it off. I am tired of cutting off the mold, espescially from new cheese, both actually and metaphorically!

Wow! This is a touchy subject, or it wouldn’t take me so long to finish writing and posting it. I started writing this Monday, came back Tuesday, Wed, Thursday and Friday. Still no post. I am going to finish it. It may be a bit rambly, convoluted and off topic, but I am going to attempt to finish this today. post it and get back on track. I feel disloyal, but I suppose that is part of the process at times.

The kids and I spent the night at Gran’s Monday night, or rather we tried. We’ve been trying to work it out to stay there at night since it became an issue a few weeks ago.  Her legs have been giving her trouble for a couple of months now in that every once in a while they won’t do what she tells them to, as it were. Trying to sort out how to make it work so that sleeping there is reasonable for everyone has been next to impossible. I had a plan I thought would work, in terms of where the kids and I would sleep according to noise levels

My back has been out to a larger and lesser extent for about a week now. I have good and bad days, and can’t always act as if I’m fine or be able to do everything Gran wants me to do for her. She asked me to do something (I don’t remember what) on Saturday and I told her I couldn’t as my back was out. She called up that evening and left a message telling the kids and I to come spend the night so she could look out for me.  We didn’t get the message until later, as we had been at the store when she called and when we got home I went up to bed. I saw her the Sunday morning and told her we’d spend the night that night. 

My daughter, Rowan, went over fairly early in the day and made some soup and was going to make gluten free bread, as well. Gran kept offering Rowan extra things to put in the soup. She, and I, both explained that Ro was following a recipe. Finally Gran let her finish sans rutabagas and whatever else might be lurking in the fridge.

My Son, Forrest,  and I returned later in the evening, as I was working on a graphic and made him something to eat, as he does not eat bacon. Once at Gran’s we all got ready for bed, made sure everyone had what they needed for the morning and hit the hay.

Forrest could not sleep in a bed not his own, and came in with some frequency to tell me he couldn’t sleep. I finally sent him home at 3 am and he went to bed there. It’s only a few blocks away, and he is no longer a minor.

In the morning,  I came out of the shower and over heard Gran heckling Rowan about not eating strawberries with her cereal. She told me later that she thought Rowan liked Strawberries, and that she wouldn’t bring them home anymore if no one was going to eat them. She offered to hull them for me for breakfast. I told her that Ro does like strawberries, but not necessarily with her cereal, and that she could hull the berries, but that I couldn’t eat them just then as I had to get Rowan off to school, and check on Forrest and get him to school as well. Rowan told me when we left that the strawberries were weird and moldy.

After school got out Gran called while Rowan was at her house doing home work and asked about dinner. I said I would bring some sausages over. She wanted to make rice and a vegetable, and I said sure. Gran called later to say Ro was sleeping and was wondering if she should wake her up. I told her to let her sleep, as she had been seeming worn down. I continued working on graphics. Forrest asked if I would take him to Gran’s for a shower and I told him he could take one after dinner. Just then Rowan called and said she was feeling really crummy and could I come and get her please.

Forrest and I headed over. I let Gran know about the change of plans, that we would not be spending the night or eating there, because Rowan was feeling sick, but That Forrest was going to stay and eat and take a shower. I asked her where I should put the sausage. She said, very gruffly that she didn’t want them and acted quite disgusted.  She said I could give the dinner to the dog. I asked why she was mad and she replied, “I am mad!”.  I wanted to know why and she said it wasn’t healthy to eat so late, and said some other things about how late we eat dinner, and our schedule.  She had water on for the rice, just about to boil. She had made a stew using the leftover bacon soup, lamb, rutabaga, and some other things.

I apologized, said I didn’t realize she was going to do all that, but that I had to get rowan home and to bed. I knew For wouldn’t eat dinner there, but I asked him to pretend and placate her and that I would feed him at home. I felt weird about it, but I often feel weird about food, among other things with Gran. She has fed us weird things all my life, and I always had to eat them. When I say weird, I don’t just mean tongue that she cooked and forgot to peel before serving, but rancid butter that everyone insisted was fine, strange things pulled from the refrigerator and made into soup (this was very hit and miss, as it good edge up to great or be somewhat horrifying, one never knew until it hit your mouth). Now I try to avoid being in that situation.

Food, like everything else in my family, has historically been hoarded, and not necessarily rotated so that it is being used and replaced. Anything was up for grabs, not just by Gran, but her parents and my dad, as well. We a re well trained hoarders. I think it comes from both genetics, anxiety and training. I really do come by these behaviors naturally.

I realized that I don’t much like to eat, in part because I had very little control over what when, how much, etc. I ate the whole time I was growing up. I love to cook, I don’t much like to eat. I forgot to eat for five days once, in college. I am beginning to understand this. I think it is about control, as is, in part my hoarding behavior.

Enough, enough for now. Perhaps I will return to this another time.

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Overalls my mom made, along with a Raggedy Andy, for me when I was 4 or 5.

Overalls my mom made, along with a Raggedy Andy, for me when I was four or five years old and no longer lived with her.

The last post, in retrospect, and just below the surface at the time, was clearly a fantastic example of avoidance behavior. I did vent a little, but I got rid of nothing physical, and what I did get rid of was done in a baby with the bath water fashion. Very difficult not to emotionally flog myself at the moment.

I panicked a little last night, as I realized my receipt for virus protection purposes was in the emails I had deleted, along with some other emails regarding a grant I am working on to try and garner some extra funding to send our middle school and high school choirs to San Francisco to see Wicked.

When I got home from choir last night, I found the deleted messages and began undeleting them.  I found the choir ones, but didn’t make it to the proof of purchase for virus protection before I went to bed. I woke up, logged on to the computer and found that the emails in the trash have been permanently deleted. There was a moment not quite of panic, but more of beating myself up. Then I stopped, as the truth is that venue is no longer available. Now I need to look and see if I have a paper copy. I had forwarded important emails, like the grant info and the receipt to another email account with less traffic, but they were servicing and updating and all of the email in my in-box, prior to yesterday was gone. Another moment of slight panic. The bottom line is this, I will figure it out, or I won’t. Either way, this is not life and death, it just sort of feels like it might be sometimes.

On another note, or actually the original note, I have been avoiding. I have been feeling overwhelmed with the process, with writing, with life in general. As a result I have been deflecting into busy work, and general avoidance behavior. 

Years ago, I fantasized about my house burning down because that, I thought, would wipe out the problem. True, it would take everything with it, but the upside is, it would take EVERYTHING with it! Most things can be replaced. What I found out when I wiped out my email in box,is that it is better to be selective and plodding, in overcoming this habit. A systematic way of dealing with all my stuff,and the accompanying tendencies is key for me to deal with this. I did not get this way over night, and I don’t think I can change, effectively and permanently over night.

The picture at the top of my post is of a pair of overalls my mom made when I was four or five to go with a Raggedy Andy doll she made for me with black curly hair and green eyes. I can’t find the doll, but I am not ready to get rid of the overalls yet. I may be willing to part with them later in the process, or at least find a way to categorize them, so I can find them when I want them.

I hope for Friday, to get back to actual boxes, and actual actions rather than theoretical ones. I have not been feeling brave, nor have I wanted to post photos of what my house looks like. I will work on pulling myself together for Friday and try to come up with a specific plan of action.

‘Till then,

Cheers!

-Pauline

Good Morning.

It was too dark to take a morning shot, all I could get was the streetlight behind my house trying to pass itself off as the moon. I couldn’t find a sunset I’d taken locally, So here is a pretty good sunset shot I got coming back from Westport with my dad and kids one evening.

beach grass sunset1

It’s 5:28 am I got up around 4 am. I am subbing today then driving to San Francisco to the see the Proclaimers with my sister at the Bottom of the Hill. Way cool.

I need to take Gran to the food bank to volunteer by about 8, because I am supposed to be at the school just about 8. I also need to get the kids  up and off to school, pack a lunch, pack a couple of things for the trip, and generall, get ready. I wanted to make sure to post today. I do not want to miss any more scheduled days, it throws me off and I lose my momentum.

So far today I have decided to get rid of a pair of orange cords (gasp!) 3 pairs of jeans a very nice pair of linen pants, a pink sweater and an orange sweater. Mostly these were clothes that were upstairs in my room. I’ve gain weight since moving here, and as much as I want them to fit, they don’t. My weight fluctuates, and usually I hold on to all the sizes of clothes. I decided to keep mostly clothes I can wear now, and a couple of things that will fit if I lose some weight again. Thinking of it karmically, I’m giving these clothes to the thrift store. I am choosing to have faith that when I lose weight again, at least one of the thrift stores in town will have something decent that I like and that fits. less stuff in my house, right??

beginnigs of Fridays donation

I am currently wearing a dress around the house that fits, but I don’t know if I like it, or if I just like it because it is purple and velvety. We don’t have a mirror, other than the one in the bath room, so I can’t see it. Honestly, that doesn’t really matter because, mostly, I have no idea what I look like even when I’m looking at myself in the mirror, at least not objectively.

I am going to donate it.  I’ve added a pair of sweat pants and 3 bras that are nice and no longer fit. I also decided to put donations in grocery bags instead of garbage bags. The thrift store counts them the same, and I think it will be nice to get to count more bags I’m getting rid of. As a bonus, they are much easier to carry!  I’d like to do more, but I need to hop in the shower and get the day going.

Weasle inspects the donations for Wednesday and Friday.

Weasel inspects the donations for Wednesday and Friday.

Weasel says, "Out the door!"

Weasel says, "Out the door!"

The school I am subbing at today is taking a field trip to see the Symphony of the Redwoods, which is very cool. I wanted to go, but thought I wouldn’t be able to, and now I get to go with a bunch of fourth graders. Very exciting, truly!

After work I will get in the car and drive down to SF. It’s not 5oo miles, I’m not walking, and I hope not to fall down. This is gonna’ be great.

I realize it is important to remember to have fun sometimes!

-Cheers!

-Pauline