Dead in the Water

I once read somewhere that you're not supposed to mention your blog on your blog... or something.  It seems like it was C.Jane that said it, but I can't be sure.  That sentiment is always in the back of my head when I post stuff like, "Hi.  I forgot I had a blog." or "Remember me?  I'm Clancy's Blog!" or, "My blog floats like a dead fish in a cold, cold lake in the Black Hills of South Dakota."   Maybe I shouldn't be saying such things?  Bad blogging ettiquette?  Que sera sera.  (On a sidenote, I hear Doris Day's voice every time I hear that phrase.  Only just now did I realize she was speaking Spanish.  Or was she?  Here's what Wikipedia has to say on the matter:

"The popularity of the song has led to curiosity about the origins of the saying and the identity of its language. The answer is not simple. It is a centuries-old saying used mainly by English-speaking people. In linguistic terms, "Que será, será" – in the form in which Livingston and Evans adopted it – is a hybrid expression made by superimposing Spanish words on English syntax (somewhat in the way that "Long time no see" consists of English words superimposed on Chinese syntax)." 

Hmm.  Thanks, Wikipedia!  And thanks for bearing with my through my commuters'-nightmare-train-of-thoughts.)

So, it's late... shocking?  Not really.  What IS shocking is how I'm finding out that in my mid-thirties, it actually IS harder to stay up late and harder to function the next day when I do.  1 a.m. is the new 2 a.m. in my world. Anyway... it's late.  So, I will just tell you the #1 reason I'm writing right now. 

The great Lynsey has challenged me to a blogging duel.  I don't know what this means exactly, but I accepted the challenge because I want to write.  I don't know how to make myself any other way at this point, so here I am.  One of a pair of combatants in a BLOGGING DUEL!

So... ON GUARD, Lynsey!!  

House of Mirrors

Eyes closed, she stumbles from room to room.
Each obstacle meets curled shoulders as
Thoughts crash hard against her.

In moments of courage
She turns her head.
Wide eyes greet only mirrors,
And shades of herself.

She shakes her fist
And cries for the words
That once came so easily.

Yumprint Update and Then Some...

Yumprint?  What's that?

That's my update.


Dinner?  What's that?

Last night I made Mac and Ella a tuna fish sandwich and Rohan and Brynja had grilled cheese.  And they all had apples.

I feel pretty good about that.  Dustin was out of town, so I didn't need to cook for him and I can't remember if I ate anything or not.  I think I had a late lunch (of sorts) and so I must not have been very hungry.  Either that or I have amnesia.

I took my kids to our local Halloween store and we spent over an hour there just walking around looking at stuff and putting masks on.  It was free and they were highly entertained.  They thought I was the coolest mom ever.

And two other points of interest that Facebook knows but my blog does not...

Back in May I went platinum blonde.  And in September I went to Europe.  Here are a few pictures to cover both items:  

Me standing next to a statue of the world's tallest man... Guinness Museum; Copenhagen, Denmark

Swedish Sauna.  It's tiny and that's why my fingers are like that.  (it is an inside joke between us and this Finnish friend of ours named Patrik why that is funny.)  Skansen Open Air Museum; Stockholm, Sweden.

This was an authentic Viking Rune stone, still it's original environment in the forest where it was discovered.  We had to hike to get to it.  It has a picture of a Longboat and the runes written there say something to the effect of, "In memory of the good son."  This is near a small town (can't remember the name...) in Finland about 30 or 40 minutes north of Vaasa.  

On the shore of the Baltic Sea.  That island you can see in the distance was our destination in this picture.  I was waiting for Patrik to pick us up in his boat and we rode to his summer house (cabin) on the island.  The island's name translated to "Thor's Island".  Awesome.

 

Standing on the porch of Patrik's summer home, with the Baltic Sea behind us.  Beautiful.

Stockholm, Sweden.  This city was a surprise around every corner.  This was inside a courtyard surrounded by buildings.  The courtyard was invisible from the street until you come upon this tiny opening in the wall of the building and then, surprise!  This awesome courtyard.  I think it was some kind of hotel behind me.  And to my left (your right) was this little green space like a park.  Grass and trees.  And this was all hidden, tucked away in this courtyard.  It was so cool.  

Perhaps someday I'll post more about our trip.  I'd like to.  It was amazing.  But for now, I'm happy to get this much up.

And see how I'm blonde now?  Yep.  That's been fun too.  

 

You Might Want to Sit Down...

I'm keeping you updated!  It's not a very good update, but I'm just excited that I remembered I have a blog.

Update:

I haven't looked at YumPrint one time since I wrote last.  I might have pinned (can I say pinned?  It's not Pinterest...) a recipe since then, but visited the site?  Nope.

And I think I've cooked dinner a total of 2 times in the last two weeks.  Well, maybe a couple more.  But I have been on the roof of my duplex for those two weeks (well, only in the day).  We're reroofing and it's sucking my will to live.  And cook.

So, I'll try to update you when I actually start having a life again that doesn't involve shingles or a 4/12 pitch.

Thank you for your patience... please continue to hold.

Oh.  And for your viewing pleasure... or not.

PICTURES!    I told you you might want to sit down.  I'm trying to be picture-girl.

If you're my friend on FB, you've probably seen these.  But there are some who are not on Facebook.  I know of two for sure.  ;-)

Boom truck with rooftop shingle delivery.  Best $65 I've ever spent.   

Dustin and I after one of the days of the tear-off.  This roof had 5 layers, the first one being old, original 1920 hot-mop tar stuff.  It was a really fun and exciting job.  Don't we look excited?  Yeah.  Not really.  

Yumprint?

My awesome friend, Rachel, posted about this new social networking site called Yumprint.  It's for recipes and Rachel's excited.  So, I for sure got on the site and signed up.  Are you kidding?  Something that helps with the dinner hour?  We all know I have dinner issues.

So, as I was looking around on the site and trying to figure out how it worked, I started to feel panicky.  I've not tried Yumprint, but have tried all kinds of books and emails and calendars to try to help me figure out dinner.

One book, in particular, I loved because it had 5 (or 6? I forget) days worth of recipes with a shopping list prepared for the whole week.  I did it for about a month and thought it was awesome, and I discovered, much to my surprise, that I really like cooking WHEN I don't have to think about WHAT to cook and I know I have all the ingredients already in the house.  I loved trying new recipes, which this forced me to do every night.  I really loved the whole process, except for going to the store.  My excuse for falling off that month-long wagon was that it was expensive.  It was perhaps a little more pricey than I would normally cook, but I probably saved money for that month because I spent less time at the store.

As I said, I browsed Yumprint for about 5 minutes seeing if I could figure it out, got panicky and then had an epiphany.  All the things I've ever tried to do to help myself cope with dinner had one thing in common.

ME.  

I'm the common denominator.  And whatever it is inside that makes me resist the planning of the dinner hour is the same thing reason I fear schedules, routines, plans, lists, etc..   And whatever it is is big.  Big and scary.  The panicked feeling that I experienced tells me just how big and how scary it is.

I don't know what I'll be doing about that, but I plan to change it.  Bit by bit.  Day by day.  Meal by meal.  Week by week.

I'd like to say I'll keep you updated...

Anything is possible, right?

My Teeth Are Brushed

(warning... this post is completely random and fairly disturbing... read at your own risk)


I shouldn't start a blog post at 12:30 a.m., but I didn't want another writing miscarriage on my hands.  I've already brushed my teeth and was ready to go to bed, but as I brushed, I was reading a remarkable book called The Dance by Oriah and I had some thoughts.

Let me tell you, as I was reading this book, I felt like I was reading something I wrote.  Not that the subject matter was my life, but the writing style was much like my own.  It made me feel like I was mourning my own death because I never write anymore.  And then I thought about the crazy dream I had last night... the dream that Dustin had to wake me up from because I was crying in my sleep.

So, I'm writing.  Even if it sucks and doesn't make any sense.

This is Clancy taking action.  Nonsensical action, perhaps, but action nonetheless.

In this book that I was just reading Oriah says this;

"The question is not why are we so infrequently the people we really want to be.  The question is why do we so infrequently want to be the people we really are."

This struck me in inexplicable ways.

And, though it makes no sense whatsoever with any of the context of this post, nor the title, I keep thinking of that dream and so, even though it's fairly freaky, I'm going to write about it:


I came into my basement family room where my children had erected a blanket fort.  The fort was covered in blood and inside it I found a little girl who had been stabbed.   In my house.   WHAT?!!!  

She was a beautiful little black girl and I thought she was dead.  I was freaking out and started screaming for someone to call an ambulance.  When I got closer to her, I could see that she was still alive.  She wasn't doing well though and as I examined her, I found a stab wound just below her sternum.  

This child was a stranger to me.  I didn't know who she was or how she got in my house, much less who stabbed her.    

I picked up the child, who was about 7 years old, to carry her upstairs and, in the way of dreams and how they seamlessly change in nonsensical ways, the child was suddenly a baby who was perhaps 6 months old.  I think the baby was a girl.  The baby had no clothes on, but had a white blanket wrapped around her and the wound (in the same place as the little child) was swollen and angry looking.  The baby was very lethargic.  

I saw an ambulance (of sorts... you know how dreams are) pull up in front of my house and as I ran frantically to answer the door with the babe in my arms, two stern faced and steely haired older women came in.  They invited themselves to sit on my couch and proceeded to ask me a bunch of questions that I can't remember now.  I only remember that I wanted to scream at them that I had a dying baby in my arms and that they were supposed to be helping her, not asking me a bunch of questions that didn't matter AT ALL!!!  

I was enormously frustrated and frantic.  These two women didn't even pause to look at the baby as they finished their questions and brusquely left my house as quickly as they entered it.  

There was someone else in my house with me who had called 911.  This person was not present during the steel twins' inquisition, but reappeared as they left.  I was frantic again.  As I realized the ambulance and the 'help' it was supposed to bring was leaving, I decided I had to take the baby to the hospital myself.

I don't know who this person was that was with me, but it was someone I trusted and I was somewhat comforted by their presence.  I remember feeling grateful that I wasn't alone.  

I struggled to put the baby in a car seat.  Then, I struggled to put the car seat in my car.  As I was trying to do this, I realized the baby wasn't in the car seat anymore.  I panicked!  I thought she must have fallen out when I was messing with the car seat trying to get it in the car.  I looked around screaming, "Where's the baby!" and the other person pointed to the white blanket that the baby had been wrapped in.  It was sort of under the car seat.  

As I grabbed the blanket and felt the baby inside it, I realized that the baby was very hard.  I pulled the blanket out with the baby inside it and uncovered it's face and what I held in my arms was now a hard plastic doll, all shiny and frozen in a fairly creepy way.  

The baby had died.  

In my dream I howled with grief and frustration.  I was crying and screaming and beating the car with my fists.  I was so angry at the women who came and asked me questions.  I was so angry at myself for letting them ask.  I was so angry that I didn't even know who this baby was and why it was in my house or who had stabbed it so cruelly.  As I screamed, the person who was with me (who was a woman, by the way) was trying to calm me down.  

And then, I woke up to my own sobbing and howling and Dustin touching me and telling me that everything was ok, and that it was just a dream.

It was so disturbing and frightening.  Like a horror movie.

Don't ask me why I kept feeling like I was supposed to write this out, but I obeyed.

Sorry for you.       

And, as I'm proofing this post, I can't help but notice the relationship between my last post about metaphorical miscarriages, the baby in my dream and the fact that reading this woman Oriah's writing made me feel like I was mourning my own death.

Maybe I'm the baby.  Maybe I'm also the stupid ladies asking all the wrong questions and just causing problems.  Maybe I'm everyone in my dream and it's like many aspects of myself who all seem to be in conflict with one another.

That actually makes a great deal of sense, considering my life lately.

Interesting.

And again, I'm sorry for you, the reader this insanely bizarre post.

Good night.
   

Metaphorical Miscarriage

I've said before that the shower is my thinking place.  It's also the place that I always came up with the best blog post ideas.  Then all that went away.

More and more in the last few weeks/months, I, once again, have blog post ideas come into my head in the shower.  It's like the moment of conception for a new baby. There's a life to my thoughts that's outside of me.  It grows and develops in my head for the duration of my shower and, as I get out, I always want to run to the computer and start writing.

BUT.  

If I don't wash my face and blow-dry my hair as soon as I get out of the shower, my hair dries funny and I sometimes forget to wash my face.  So, I always do that first.  

And my baby miscarries.  Every. Time.  

This was not the intended post for today.  

But it's something.  

Proverbs a la Rohan

Ella and Mac and I were just reading through a few old posts on my blog and we came across this one where I had asked the kids to finish well-known proverbs.  We laughed our heads off reading these and I decided that Rohan needed to do this so we could enjoy his answers as well.  

Proverbs by Rohan:

The original proverb: Better safe than sorry!

Rohan- Better safe than... healthy.

The original proverb: Strike while the iron is hot!

R- Strike while the... sword's killing.  

The original proverb: It is always darkest before the dawn.

R- It's always darkest before the... dark.

The original proverb: A rolling stone gathers no moss. 

R- A rolling stone... kills.

The original proverb: A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

R- A bird in the hand is... dead. 

The original proverb: There's nothing to fear but fear itself.

R- There's nothing to fear but... people.

The original proverb: If you can't stand the heat, then get out of the kitchen.

R- If you can't stand the heat then... get an umbrella.

The original proverb: The squeaky wheel gets the grease.

R- The squeaky wheel gets... fixed.

The original proverb: To err is human, to forgive is divine.

R- To err is human... but to make a mistake.

The original proverb: I think, therefore, I am.

R- I think therefore... I give. 

The original proverb: Early to bed and early to rise makes and man healthy, wealthy and wise.

R- Early to bed and early to rise makes... you feel better because then you'll have better energy.

The original proverb: A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

R- A journey of a thousand miles begins with... a person. 

The original proverb: There is nothing new under the sun.

R- There is nothing new... except for Brynja. 

The original proverb: The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

R- The grass is always greener... than the sun. 

The original proverb: Don't count your chickens before they are hatched.

R- Don't count your chickens... before lunch. 

The original proverb: You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink.

R- You can lead a horse to water, but... not to food. 

The original proverb: Don't bite the hand that feeds you

R- Don't bite the hand that... eats you.

The original proverb: No news is good news.

R- No news is... reported. 

The original proverb: A miss is as good as a mile.

R- A miss is as good as... a hit. 

The original proverb: You can't teach an old dog new tricks.

R- You can't teach an old dog new... stuff. 

The original proverb: If you lie down with dogs, you'll rise with fleas

R- If you lie down with dogs, you'll... bite them. 

The original proverb: The pen is mightier than the sword.

R- The pen is mightier than... the sword. 

The original proverb: Where there's smoke there's fire.

R- Where there's smoke there's... fire. 

The original proverb: Happy the bride who the sun shines on.

R- Happy the bride who... killed his wife. 

The original proverb: A penny saved is a penny earned.

R- A penny saved is... one cent. 

The original proverb: Two's company, three's a crowd.

R- Two's company, three's... are better. 

The original proverb: Don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today.

R- Don't putt off til tomorrow what you... love. 

The original proverb: Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone.

R- Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and... the world cries with you. 

The original proverb: Children should be seen and not heard.

R- Children should be seen and not... dead. 

The original proverb: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

R- If at first you don't succeed... then you will be seen by a king. 

The original proverb: You get out of something what you put into it.

R- You get out of something what you... like to do.

Lately...

... I have been duplexing my little brains out.  I...

• ... patched some drywall that was water damaged.  I did a decent job on a smooth ceiling (no texture).  Good enough that my 30-years-of-experience-drywall-finishing-father couldn't even see where the patch was until I showed him.  I felt puffed up with the thrill of doing something all by myself.  
• ... laid a tile entry all by myself and grouted it almost all by myself.  (Mom came and helped a bit/watched/cheered me on)  But then, when the carpet dude came and kicked in the carpet, all the grout joints busted up and some of the tiles popped loose.  I will admit that I bawled my brains out.  I felt like a failure.  It wasn't really my fault, but I felt like a failure, nonetheless.  So, now I get to redo it with a minor modification that was overlooked the first time.  BOO.  
• ... painted over 2400 square feet of walls, baseboard, window casings and returns, and doors.  
• ... laid a linoleum stick-on-tile floor (until 4:30 a.m. one night.  I have a problem...)
• ... listened to four MP3 books during all this.

... I have also been keeping up on a summer chore-chart with my kids.  It's been great.  They've been [mostly] very willing and they've done a good job.  

... I have been reading a lot.  

... I have been dreaming of blogging again, so I wrote this post, but now I feel all done-ish and like I want to get up and do something else.  

The end.

Unsettled, Distracted

Eyes open

Scarcely blinking

Expose painful imperfection.

Eyes closed

Head shaking 

Deny cold reality.

Eyes scanning 

Up, down, here, there

Words that don't belong to me

Distract from all this reality 

And this imperfection.