Tag: random

perspective

Eyes to the Horizon

2chicksandapen

We are in the thick of this.

Hard times.

It reminds me of the lessons I learned from Chad. We are in the long stretch in the middle. Maybe the 500 mark or so. Where the flurry of just getting started is over. We are grinding one. step. at. a. time. There doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Only more drudgery and challenge. I am getting tired. Not just physically tired, but tired of it all, too. Giving up seems an option worth entertaining, especially with new worries on the horizon.

But I don’t.

Every day I have to just keep going.

Like Chick 1 put it so well in her post, we are going to have to choose to soar, and we might be a little beaten up sore to get to that point.

It’s like a butterfly in the cocoon stage. We know we will come out significantly different than when we wrapped ourselves in. Did you know that caterpillars basically dissolve into goo while they’re in the cocoon? To transform into their destined selves, they have to basically melt into mush.

How many of us are there some days?

I have to keep my eyes to the horizon. Just as Chick 1 reminded me that I am going to endure some sore to get to my soar, I know that the gooey mess I am now is on its way to becoming something beautiful, maybe even unrecognizable.

A post reminded me that after the profoundly awful Spanish Flu Pandemic, the Roaring 20s came rushing forth. We will get through this. It will not be easy. I have no doubt we will all lose something, many of us things that are profound and irreplaceable. But our world will come roaring back to prosperity, creativity, and hopefully some amazing parties with dresses, dancing, and all the pent up joy, merriment and connection we are missing out on now.

Stay hopeful.

dare to be different, mental health

The Distant Shore

2chicksandapen

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A gorge in the Middle of Nowhere, Tennessee.  Calm, dark water with a hint of murkiness.

The rest of my group took off, swimming for the other bank of trees and sheer rock.

“Come on!” they called.  “Do it!”

I shook my head no as they doggie paddled, freestyled, and floated their way across the channel.

They called me and gestured a couple of more times, then they gave up when I continued to stand firm, head shaking. Nope, nope, nope. Not doing it. No sirree. Not this girl.

Then I asked myself, standing alone on the shore, why not?

Sure, I’m only a few years past being petrified to swim in any kind of water where I can’t see the bottom.  Sure, I don’t have a life jacket or any flotation device.  Sure, I have no idea how deep this is, or how far across it is (although I can see the other side).  Sure, I don’t really know how to swim in any kind of recognizable stroke or otherwise efficient way. (Which should have changed, given my story of near drowning, but it hasn’t.)

And after I told myself all that “why I can’t” stuff, I asked myself again, why not?

Then I started psyching myself up.

I can do this. I am training for a triathlon. Yes, it has been put off a year but I still need to get going. It’s not that big of a deal. I can do this. It’s not that far. Just start. Just go.

So I just walked out from the dirt “beach” and started to make my way across in some kind of swim-like movement.  Sorta freestyle-doggie-paddle, breaking into a vaguely-resembling-breast stroke at times, but never putting my head under water.  Eyes fixed resolutely on the other shore.

Yes, the fear set in about halfway across, everyone else in my group just chatting and laughing on the rocks.  I knew if I didn’t keep going I was probably in trouble, so I kept paddling along.

Eventually, the shore got closer.  My group noticed I was nearly there.  And I finally, eventually made it.  Seven straight minutes of swimming without touching bottom or using a life jacket.

Cut to the chase / return…I shaved a minute off my time and made it back in 6.  100 yards each way.

Still not real fast or real organized in the swim lane, but a small victory in calling myself on my own “nope, nope, nope” and raising it with a “why not?”

And yes, it was worth it.

What have you dared to do lately?

 

 

 

 

perspective

Snoring

2chicksandapen

Do I snore? Do you snore? Or the real question should be: is snoring keeping you up at night?

For me the answer is sometimes snoring keeps me awake. Like today for example. My partner is snoring. Could be in another room, in the distance or up close and personal. Doesn’t matter if it’s the reclining chair, the couch, a nap in the car or in bed. Snoring is a must or a bust.

It seems snoring is a must or a habit that unconsciously happens on a regular basis and it’s not defined by location, sitting or laying position, or even regular sleep vs. nap sleep. It just happens. Frequently.

It’s also annoying on most days because it keeps me awake to an extent. Not always but enough times for me to document the noisy behavior and actually write about its variety. I may or may not even have a video collection of sounds.

Speaking of variety I was on a family vacation and sleeping quarters included an open living room in which family members claimed a couch spot. I can sleep anywhere allowing me to grab a spot without hesitation.

And then there was another and another. I nodded off quickly but awoke to what I assumed was my partner’s annoying snoring habit. I tried the normal covering of the ears. I made my quick video of the sound effects for proof and attempted to find my restful state again fully knowing the sound was not going away.

And then there was two. Two sounds. A kind of surround sound effect. Oh no, was my mind playing tricks on me? Not a chance! My partner’s sibling had snagged a spot in the open air sleeping space while I went to sleep. I had surround sound snoring in full effect!

It was almost the exact snore pattern. In the dark room, I could hear the tick of the clock and hoarse sound of snoring in each ear. A constant sound. Shallow breath, loud snore. A hicccup pattern or patterns of continuous snores. An abnormally loud snore that could have resembled a snort or two or three.

This torture went on an on. No end in sight. I finally saw the sunrise on the horizon. A peaceful sight. It was early but blissful. I was awakening and the sound was fading into the distance.

As the sun rose and the rooster made its morning announcement in the distance, the snoring faded. Each sibling out like a light. Not even remotely aware of their snore fest mimicking a Fourth of July fireworks display to others nearby.

How do you coexist with snoring? Could I snore as bad as they do? How does one fix their snoring problem? Is there snore etiquette when you have a sleepover of sorts as adults? Is snoring even an issue for kids?

Ah, so many questions. Since it’s the wee hours of the morning and I am somewhat sleep deprived I will move on from this post as I’m sure it’s not all that exciting to most.

Do you have a funny snore story to share? If so, drop us a comment or send us a note. We love to hear from our readers and/or snorers. Hope this post didn’t put you to sleep.

family

A Cast From the Past

2chicksandapen

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Sometimes you run across a piece of paper that stops you in your tracks.

I was going through some boxes of old family “stuff” when I found a large old brown envelope of sympathy cards.  After sifting through several of them, I realized they were cards sent to my maternal grandmother when my grandfather, her husband, passed away.

Holding those cards transported me back to when I was about 6 or 7 years old.  He was the first person that I can remember dying.   I recall I had a solo singing Jingle Bell Rock in my school first grade Christmas program. I wore a green dress with candy canes on the bib and a white blouse with a scalloped collar.  I remember my mother wasn’t there to see me sing.  At that age, I couldn’t really understand what was happening.  Why my mom sat slumped over on the bed, her back to me, sobbing.

All I knew was my mother wasn’t there to see me sing.

Flipping through the cards now. So many beautiful cards, most simply finished with a signature. Names I didn’t know. People who loved and remembered.

Then, a different kind of card.  No lilies or angels or cursive sympathies.  Flat. Engraved with black letters. Someone had given a book to a library as a way to honor my grandfather’s death.  And it was a book about fishing.

It was a full circle moment for a couple of reasons.  First, I am a librarian.  So a book memorial has special meaning for me.  And then, my daughter, Dianne, who bears the name of my mother, loves fishing.  So knowing there is a book out there, in a library somewhere, all about fishing, to honor my granddad felt both sublime and bittersweet.

Finding that card was like a cord running through generations. A moment of connection with a long distant past. I had no idea my grandfather loved fishing, even though he lived a stone’s throw from Lake Chautauqua.  It was a smile down from a man lost decades ago as well as his daughter, to me and my own daughter who shares her name.

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perspective

Bird Poop

2chicksandapen

Birds fly by, zoom zoom. Nobody cares. General flights of birds cause no harm to humans. Life goes on for many.

Birds fly by and poop on your car and people get annoyed. It’s gross. You have to clean it and some times it’s just overly nasty. Again, life goes on.

Birds fly by and one launches a missile of turd on you, a human. Gross is not the word that comes to mind. It’s more like a shriek, eww, nasty and so many more words. A wet splatter. A solid turd. All combined in white, black, yellow coloring. Do you think they say ready, set, aim? Do they think the world below is a modern day potty?

I heard it’s good luck to be shit on by bird. I guess only time will tell if luck is on my side. I will tell you however that a bird shitting on you doesn’t feel good.

It’s wet. It’s dirty. It’s gooey. It’s just down right gross. I’m sparing you a picture on this one but felt it was important to share the rarity of being shit on by a bird.

I guess we have all been shit on by a human at some point in life and that is most likely more long-term suffering than a quick splat that is gone as soon as you cleanse the area.

Do you think birds carry corona? Just a random share on this hump day.