Tag Archives: Gratitude

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

cart before

I admit it. I like to find things in other people’s trash.  Not deep in the trash under banana peels or dirty diapers or anything, mind you (I am still a germaphobe), but trash that’s visible from my car as I drive by.

I like to think of it as high-end dumpster diving. Or re-purposing of perfectly salvageable items on their way to the dump via the neighborhood trash truck. Items for which it causes me physical pain to think about them being hoisted up and over the back of the garbage truck cab and tossed into that teetering back heap in pieces.

These dumpster dive treasures call my name and wave me down as I drive by, shouting out to me “Hey, hey you…  Here I am… Yes, me! Isn’t this a shame?  You can’t let this happen, can you?”  They wait for me to slowly turn my car around to take a closer look and that’s when if they had a tail it would certainly start wagging … and in the car they go.

This is why my kids and MacGyver don’t even flinch when once every few months they see a new piece of very questionable looking furniture in the garage.  They know the drill.

Maybe I’m a hoarder, It may be genetic.  But I like to think of it as being a rescuer.

So, when I was driving through my neighborhood a couple of weeks ago and saw this old tea cart out on the curb by someone’s trash cans, I had to stop and perform a rescue mission. Yes, I was already cutting it close for my appointment, but I could hear the roar of the trash truck getting closer and her demise was imminent.

She had badly chipped veneer (under a perfectly quaint and in-tact wood framed glass tray) and she was missing wheels (which the owner was kind enough to set out for the likely rescuer) and she was was scratched, crooked and unsteady as hell.  In the back of my 4Runner she went.   

cart wheel

MacGyver grinned and shook his head as I later pleaded this poor little tea cart’s case and asked for his help in attaching the wheels and leveling her out.  ‘She can make it,’ I explained.

And so it was.  Here are the steps of this ‘little cart-that-could’s rebirth:

1. MacGyver reattached the little wheels under the cart. cart level

2. She was still unsteady due to the odd wheel configuration, so MacGyver worked to level her by adding spacers above her smaller wheels.  I was the assisting nurse, keeping watch on her vitals by watching for the little bubble in the little window of the metal level.

3. Then came the spray paint.  Oh, the glorious spray paint.  I can change the world with a few cans of spray paint.

cart paint

4. I taped and sanded her tray and on the front lawn where I still had good sunlight (my neighbors think I’m nuts) I gave it a few shots of a brilliant, deep red to test out the color.  She started to smile instantly.

5. Then the next day after the glue dried on the little wheels, this little cart got a thorough sanding and a coat of all-over red, except for her big, center wheels which I spray painted black as if they were the black patent shoes she needed for her new, red dress.cart red

6. Her makeover was complete.  She turned out so beautiful in the end that we decided to let her live with us on a permanent basis.  She has found a home in my dining room.

Despite her questionable background,  this little tea cart has made a lovely addition to our family and she seems to be working through her abandonment issues.

It turns out that you just never know what you might find on someone else’s curb on trash day.  And what it could become.  And that, my friends, is the fun of it.

Have you ever dumpster-dived?

“Sorry honey, I think you have the wrong mother.”

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Little Red Riding Hood’s coat now hangs in her closet.

Before my long weekend get-away, I visited Little Red Riding Hood (aka Mom) in her dementia facility home last week.

My usual feelings of dread – and the pit in my stomach – had been building up as I anticipated my visit. I knew that once I saw her, the pit in my stomach would begin to dissipate into the smaller, more manageable pit that’s taken up permanent residence. Sweet Clone (my youngest son) offered to accompany me.  Having someone with me every now and then takes a little of the sting out of my visits.

We arrived and I punched in the code at the front door, where a much different reality exists beyond the threshold.  This is where I take a deep breath and swallow my trepidation for how the visit may unfold.

These days Little Red Riding Hood doesn’t recognize me. For the last two years she seemed to at least realize that I was someone she knew and someone who was nice to her.  Now it takes more effort to briefly catch her gaze once I track her down.  She’s usually rearranging silverware or dusting a table with a tissue.  Her head hangs low but she walks with surprising agility.

This time as we walked into her area of the facility, her roommate Amy (who scares me a little because she always looks angry even though I don’t think she is), was holding Mom’s arm and leading her toward me.  I just knew she was going to tell me that something was wrong.  (Mom has been irritating some of the other residents lately walking into their rooms and taking her shoes off to stand and gaze at them. I can understand their frustration  even if it isn’t that uncommon around there.)

Instead and to my surprise, after I said hi to Mom and tried to get her attention, Amy held Mom’s arm as if protecting her and told me that I must have the wrong mother.  That Mom couldn’t be my mother because she was actually her daughter.  She inquired about my last name as if to double check but then kept walking with Mom.

Christian, the sweet caregiver, told Mom’s roomate that I was indeed Mom’s daughter and wanted to visit.  She argued again, told me “Sorry, honey, you’ve got the wrong mother. It just can’t be.”  She explained that Mom was her daughter, and that she had not been herself this week, and therefore she needed to be taken care of.  And it was her job to do it.

I looked to Christian and nodded with a smile to let him know it was okay.  I softly touched Amy on the shoulder and thanked her for being so sweet and caring.  Her wide, smoky blue eyes met with mine  and her facial expression lightened, as if she suddenly realized I wasn’t going to take Mom away from her.

After chatting with Christian about how Mom was doing, checking her room and leaving her favorite Russell Stover’s Assorted Creams on her little bedside table, it was time to say goodbye.candy

I caught up with them again and Amy was still holding Mom’s arm lovingly as they strolled around the facility.  I stopped them to give Mom the longest and most loving embrace possible and I told her that I loved her.  I almost, for a second, felt the old her hugging me back.  Or maybe I was trying to wish it to happen.

I leaned down to capture her attention and tell her again how much I loved her.  I got a brief smile but she kept on walking.

Amy looked at me and smiled like she felt badly for me, and told me not to worry, that Mom “just hadn’t been herself lately.”

As we left, I smiled and was grateful that someone new was also watching out for my Little Red Riding Hood.

Rocky Mountain Wry

IMG_4594Visiting Crested Butte for the weekend.

Staying in an old 1800s garage converted into a small house called the License Plate House which is covered in old license plates.IMG_4665

There is an art festival this weekend so there are tents and tents of handmade pottery, ceramics and clothing. Coffee shop next door.  Open patio.   Perfect weather.

Right now I can hear a beautiful wooden pan flute being played by a man set up at a table next door.  I think he’s playing Scarborough Fair. For real.

Hiked Friday on Snodgrass trail. Through the Ancient Aspen Grove.  Surprised I didn’t fall multiple times (given my natural grace) because I was snapping a picture at every turn, in awe of the beauty everywhere.

Biked through a summer rain around Peanut Lake.  Came back covered in mud and laughing.IMG_4666 IMG_4623

Away with Macgyver and the boys.

Wry is happy.  And grateful.

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What do you hope someone knows? Tell them.

templife

This beautiful moon presented itself to me from my driveway last week.

MacGyver lost his dad a week ago very suddenly.  He was only 66 years old.  We are still processing the shock of it all and our hearts are swollen with sorrow.

One of my best friends lost her dad the very same week.  And I heard two stories just yesterday of people who lost their young fathers suddenly.

I lost my sister when she was 36, my mentor when he was only 57 and one of my best friends when she was only 32.

I’m always saying that life is short but even I often  lose sight of just how fleeting and temporary it can be. We’re so lucky to be here right now and to have those in our lives right now.

One of the blogs I follow had a post recently that stressed the importance of focusing on the wonderful in those in our lives and not missing chances to tell people about the things in them that we appreciate.

I think MacGyver knows how much I appreciate, adore and respect him because I tell him constantly.  But I hope he knows I mean it with every ounce of my heart.

I hope my kids know the unmeasurable amount of love I have for them and how very proud I am of the young men that they are, even though we frustrate each other so often.  And how my heart breaks for them when they struggle,

I hope my Dad knows how wicked smart I think he is and how much his drive and determination inspire me. And I hope he knows how much I appreciate all he has done for me and taught me and that I wish I still lived down the street. I hope my Stepmom knows how much I appreciate that she is in my life and how much she has taught me through her grace and loving heart.

I hope my Stepdad knows how much I love and appreciate him and the way he has stood by my Mom.  And I hope that my Mom knows, or knew when she could, how much I appreciate all the sacrifices she made for me, all the love that she gave me and all the things that she taught me which helped make me who I am.

I hope my friends know how much I appreciate them and their thoughtfulness, support and patience with me despite my myriad of idiosyncrasies.  How much I love to hear their voices or read texts or notes from them, and to learn from them and laugh with them until my face hurts.

I hope my oldest niece knows how much I treasure our relationship and that she realizes how wonderful I think she is.  I hope my nephews know how impressed I am with the young men they have become and how proud of them that I am.  And that my young nieces know how much I love them and look forward to watching them become young women.

I hope my cousins know how much I appreciate their efforts to stay connected and how happy I am to be part of their family tree.

I hope my Mother-in-law knows how much I appreciate how she raised such a wonderful man.  And that I appreciate her and love her.  And that my sister-in-law knows how much I love and care about her and wish we lived closer.

I know that my sister knows how much I miss her and keep her in my heart every day because I can feel her with me.  For that I am truly grateful.

And I hope that my father-in-law, who I called Big D, knew how much I loved and admired him.  How much I learned from him … not only about how to hang sheet rock or tile a bathroom at record speeds, but more importantly about keeping a positive mental attitude and always being willing to roll up his sleeves and give a helping hand to anyone who needed it.  I wish I had told him all that and more.  And I hope that he knew it in his heart.  I think he did.

What do you hope someone knows?  Tell them.

Something to think about.

experienceI saw this sign while shopping with a friend yesterday. We went to a shabby chic haven of small stores selling a plethora of clever items that we could have made ourselves if we only had thought of the ideas first.

At any rate, this sign caught my eye and its message gave me pause.

My first thought after reading it was actually ‘Oh geez, what has the last year been preparing me for? Seemed like a frightening thought after a pretty exhausting year of events.’

But on the flip side, it makes sense that each experience prepares us for the next.  And that’s a good thing.

Because life gets easier the more we do it.  Just like we get better at playing catch the more we practice.

We learn how to relax and get into a rhythm with the ball.  How to position ourselves for successful catches by reading the ball and predicting where it might end up.

We also learn to recognize and dodge those fast balls that could really hurt if they nailed us. And how to catch the next hardball differently so it doesn’t sting so much.

And most importantly we learn how to be open — and unafraid —  to catch certain curve balls that can change our life forever.

What about you?  How do you think each experience prepares us for the next?

Oh, tell me what you want, what you really, really want …

dandy3In my 200th post – I’m shaking things up a bit and making this post all about you.

This blog is about a lot of things.  The common thread is usually some kind of either wry or raw perspective that I have gained from my journey through this thing called life.

I have almost 600 followers now and this blog has been viewed by people in 91 countries — all of which blows my mind.  And makes me very grateful.

dandy4Which is why I want to know…

What do you like to read most here?  What about this blog do you most feel a connection with?

Do you like my posts that are about gratitude (like my first 100 when this blog started)?

Or ones that are sarcastic or self deprecating? Or about parenting or being part of the sandwich generation?

Or ones that are filled with what is sometimes pretty raw emotion?

Short posts or long ones?  Posts where I participate in a Worpress challenge or writing prompt exercise?

Or simply posts with nice pictures or paintings (no judgement here…)?

You tell me.

And thank you for being part of this blog!

dandy

Weekly Photo Challenge: Fleeting

awesome

This week’s photo challenge is about capturing a fleeting moment.  I had the perfect photo in mind.

I took this photo on a walk with a friend recently just as a group of dense, rain-filled clouds was quickly rolling in and seemed to almost circle our spot in the path and the pond before us. As if nature had been painting a picture for us and waiting for us to get there to see it.

If I hadn’t stopped right at that very second to capture this fleeting moment as these full and heavy clouds were preparing to open for us and as the simply awesome smell of the coming rain was saturating the air …  the moment would have been gone.

The photo challenge prompt mentioned an article, Photography 101: Introduction & Philosophy which kicks off a blogging photography series and interviews Danielle Hark who founded a collaborative photography site called the Broken Light Collective.  She talks about how photography helps her stay in the present and is her own form of meditation.

This spoke to me, since photography is one of the best ways to make myself slow down enough to be present in the moment. And most likely the closest I get to meditating as well.

Does photography help you stay in the moment?  What visual comes to mind when you think of the word Fleeting?  Such a simple word that floods my mind with so many visuals.  This was just one.

STOP. It’s all relative, my friends.

susieWhatever you’ve been griping about this morning (if you’ve griped about anything this morning or were getting ready to), stop and rethink.

Susie, a hilarious, inspiring and supportive  fellow blogger and author of Susie Lindau’s Wild Ride is undergoing a double mastectomy today, right now in fact.

You can follow The Boob Report here where she talks about “offing” her breasts, which she decided never really matched anyway.

Go Susie.  You are a badass in my book.

Ode to My Grandfathers

gdadBoth of my late grandfathers had May birthdays, and I am particularly fond of May birthdays, as some might know.

With one of these birthdays upon us today. I decided  to honor them both.

They were both kind, patient and good men, and parts of them make me who I am today.

And for that I am truly grateful.

 A Southern Gent

An inventive sort, this Southern gent.

Able to fix anything thrown his way.

An understated man, only said what he meant.

Quietly observing  the day.

…

Happy to let the spotlight shine,

On his wife, for a fuss he thought quite the bore.

Calming the waters throughout their life,

A loving man, with patience galore.

…

And a Northern Gent Wally

The grandfather I never knew,

Walked softly, kind and tall.

To his girls,  forever true,

His heartfelt words touched them all.

…

His love letters made his true love blush,

Funny, sentimental and smart,

He lives on in us,

His wit, all a part.

 

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the word Grandfather?

No matter where you go, there you are.

personallyIt’s been a heck of a year or so, and Little Red Riding Hood is now safe and sound in her new digs.  I am starting to breathe a little deeper, despite the periodic pangs of guilt that I work to suppress each time I drive away.

So when an opportunity to tag along with MacGyver on a work trip to Spain came along – during a favorite week of mine and for mere pennies at that – I took it as a sign.  A sign that it was time to shake off the worries of the last few years like a wet dog after a year-long bath.  And figure out how to jump on that plane.

As such, LifeonWry is Madrid-bound, as of this Saturday. I’m hoping to write while there and I’ll try to post on my blog.  I may even try to figure out how to pre-program some posts to appear while I am gone (no promises there).  So please standby if my little ol’ blog experiences any technical difficulties or extended pauses.spain

I am grateful to have such a wonderful travel opportunity present itself and to be able to take advantage of it.  Also grateful that my parents are willing to shake up their life for a week and watch our boys for most of the time while we are gone, while my dear friend, who is like a sister to me,  will stay for a few nights as well.  My friend’s mother, who is an extra mother to me (I’ve been blessed to have a few), will help out with my friend’s son while she is gone so that she can come to Colorado for a few days.

Having people like these in my life is yet another example of why my life is rich beyond measure.  All involved were on a mission to make it possible for me to go on this trip with MacGyver. And they jumped at the opportunity to spend quality time with my boys who are growing up so very quickly.post office

Traveling and experiencing new and different places is quite possibly as important as education.  I’m convinced that travel..and living in places different from what we are accustomed  to… broadens our minds by knocking down the boundaries set in place by our own experiences.

Too often our minds get boxed in by the familiar and only a change of scenery or culture can wedge them loose.  Perhaps that’s why my Grandmother called me her Gypsy granddaughter, God rest her leopard-shoed soul.

I am grateful that my parents taught me to appreciate travel and other cultures when I was young, and that I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to teach it to our sons.

There are so many quotes about travel that I love.  Twain’s view on travel is perfectly stated.  As is this one by Ralph Crawshaw:

“Travel has a way of stretching the mind. The stretch comes not from travel’s immediate rewards, the inevitable myriad new sights, smells and sounds, but with experiencing firsthand how others do differently what we believed to be the right and only way.” -Ralph Crawshaw

I will have a few days on my own in Madrid to get good and lost (for I am She-ra, Queen of the Compass-Challenged).  So I know that I’ll have some interesting stories to tell.  So stay tuned, my friends.  Stay tuned.

What are your thoughts on seeing new places?  What does travel mean to you?

Headline quoted from The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension.

 

Feeling lucky?

morning

I snapped this as I was leaving the school parking lot this morning. I’m lucky this is my view every weekday as I drive away from the school.  The others waiting to pull out of the lot behind me are not so lucky.

I’m feeling lucky.  Lucky, that is, that I discovered WordPress and to be part of the WordPress family.  (As well as to have stolen this shot of the sun peeking out of the clouds this morning.)

As I’ve told many, I feel truly grateful to have such a wonderful group of bloggers out there who are so very supportive and kind.  It really is like having another family out there.  Fellow bloggers who don’t judge or compete, instead offering kind words of encouragement and support.  I truly thank you.

I’ve been nominated for the WordPress Family Award by Sonel, writer of  Sonel’s Corner (I get to experience Hartbeespoortdam, South Africa and wonderful photos through her blog), and Kira, writer of Wrestling Life, who writes some terrific poems and is also part of the Rome Construction Crew organized by Green Embers, and Let’s Talk About Family who is a wise and caring fellow soldier in this parental Alzheimer’s battle.

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Thank you so much for nominating me. I am honored to be considered part of your WordPress Family.

The founder of the The WordPress Family Award established the award because they felt that the WordPress family had taken them in and showed them love and care like a family, always there for them.  Even though we may never meet in person. I’m continuously impressed by how cool of a concept this blogging thing is.

Here are the rules to accept the WordPress Family Award:
1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you.
3. Nominate 10 bloggers who’ve had an impact on your WordPress experience
4. Let them know you have awarded them
5. That is it. Just please pick 10 bloggers that have taken you in, and spread the love.

This is the part I don’t like – having to narrow down just ten bloggers who have enriched my blogging experience in these short nine months.  There are so many! Please know that ALL of my readers and fellow bloggers enrich my blogging experience in a positive way each day, and for that I am grateful to each of you.

So here are ten of you who I feel like I could easily hang out at Starbucks with even though I’ve never met you (hoping that doesn’t creep you out).  Some of you have been with me since the early days last fall, and some just over these last few months.  All of you provide perspectives on life that make me breathe more deeply, or smile, or laugh, cry or think.

Free Penny Press

Nature Restores Me

Transformed by the Journey

Diane Gray

Lame Adventures

Sonel’s Corner

Wrestling Life

Let’s Talk About Family

Angie Inspired

Ambling and Rambling 

There are so many more that this list could go on and on.  Thank you all!

What do you feel lucky about today?

Note to self: Shut your mouth.

mouthSo, my sixteen year old son got his first speeding ticket.

Before you judge, know that he was reprimanded sufficiently and that he will be paying the fine.  And that the ticket was reduced to a defective vehicle violation.

He also beat himself up about it more than sufficiently, as he was clearly upset and remorseful. Days later, as his remorse continued, I decided that the best way to make him feel better about the whole thing would be to begin recounting my litany of violations and mistakes with regard to automobiles when I was young.  I was on a roll and my stories kept getting better and better.

As the words rushed out of my mouth at full speed, MacGyver looked at me puzzled, as if wondering why I thought this was a good idea. But I didn’t get the hint.

Then at some point, thank goodness, I realized that I needed to shut my mouth.  But … as it is on many occasions … it was too late.  I have only my lack of caffeine that morning to blame for this lapse in judgement.  Duh.

Ever realized you needed to shut your mouth when it was too late?