Quiet & Good

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It’s quiet. Husband is downstairs watching a college football game. Daughter and the Dogs are in Wisconsin with my in-laws. I’m sitting upstairs, at the desk that husband and I now share (!). There are few runners outside on the paths, traffic is light. The wind is slow through the yellow leaves. Our neighbors have turned off their waterfall for the season.

We slept in this morning, probably too late, because I barely made it to the Kick-boxing class I used to attend. But I made it, groggy with sleep and maybe just a bit dehydrated from the late night with dear friends and one too many beers. I went to the class faithfully before daughter was born and now I make it 2 or 3 times a year. It’s good to go back and it’s good to put my body through something besides running, biking or skating.

This past week was good. I finished up the dreaming class I took. It was inspiring and it got me back here, at the keyboard, hitting these keys. It got my mind racing about everything else I want to do! And it got me to realize that dreams can come true, just one step at a time. Nothing’s going to happen unless you take that first step, right?

I also went to a concert all by myself. I have never even gone to a movie by myself, but I really wanted to go and we had a sick kid, so husband generously stayed home while I went downtown. It was awesome. And amazing. And really, it didn’t matter that I went alone because I was surrounded by hundreds of other people who were there for the same thing. To listen to great music.

It was really good. The whole week was really good. Even with a fever and meltdowns and rain and dogs that hog the bed. It was good.

How was your week?

Just Write: On Writing

collage by daughter, 2013
collage by daughter, 2013

I’ve recently recommitted myself to writing. To writing here, to writing for my writing group, to writing for me. I don’t think I’m ready to take the NaNoWrMo challenge, but it sure is exciting to think about!

Last night I hit the send button on my first submission. It’s the first time I’ve sent my work out into the world in that way. I’ve sent it to my Mom, to my Writing Buddy, to my Writing Group and I’ve even started to let Husband read some work.

This is different writing than you see here. The essay I sent was hard to write. It was hard to share. But it felt really good to click on that button and see it go. Who knows what will happen now. I’m already working on submission number 2. That will go out next week.

I’ll keep you posted!

This Tuesday “Just Write” Post was inspired by Heather at The Extraordinary Ordinary. I’ll be linking up to her as many Tuesdays as I can muster. Another writing commitment. 

Hockey Hockey

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So, I signed the daughter up for Mini-mites hockey last week. Mini-mites is for four-year olds and it’s the youngest level of organized hockey. I looked at a few programs and realized that the one across the river was the closest and fit our schedule the best. I emailed the director and asked if I could sign her up. She politely replied that I needed to get permission from my area’s program because we live across the river. Easy, I thought.

I went online, found the program website, found the presidents name and sent him an email requesting permission to sign my four-year-old up for hockey. He said no.

No? She’s four.

So I tried again. I explained that we’re moving and won’t be in his district next year or ever again and that we wanted to make things a bit more convenient while we’re still here.

Again, I reiterated that she’s four.

I didn’t hear back.

Then I was talking to another daycare father, one that plays hockey and knows the ins and outs of the program and he was amazed that a four-year-old couldn’t get permission to play outside her area for one year. He told me he’d make some calls.

The next day I had my waiver.

Did I mention she’s four?

So now I have this waiver, but it only has one signature. I need to get four more signatures from all levels of the hockey world, just so a four-year-old can play hockey for one year near our house. Don’t get me wrong, we want her to play. She especially wants to play and had a complete meltdown last week when open skating was cancelled.

So, she wants to play, we want her to play, but really, I have to jump through all these hoops just so she (a four-year old) can play at a location convenient to our home. What has happened to the world of kids sports & activities? Has it really become this serious?

Again, did I mention she’s four?

The Marathon

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I watched part of the Twin Cities Marathon this morning, mostly because the course goes past my house, but also because it’s such an inspiring event to see in person. From the first wheelchair racers that have faced life-changing challenges, to the leaders who sail past gracefully, to the run/walkers that told themselves they could run a marathon and they’re doing it. It’s amazing.

Daughter and I ran outside just in time to see the leaders run by. She brought her drum, and I brought a mug of steaming tea to keep warm. She banged and I cheered, for the men, the moms, the veterans and the rookies. We looked for my coworker, missing him just as he went past. We looked for other friends, but applauded new ones instead. I cheered louder for the 40-44 year old women, and I told them their hair looked great, that they haven’t even broken a sweat.

This year I helped my neighbors hand out bananas, 600 lbs of them (I might have handed out 1 full lb). I watched the runners reach towards my outstretched arm, their hands and fingers moving unpredictably with the fatigue. Some said thank you, some cheered, some just nodded, completely spent.

Running 26.2 miles is amazing. The farthest I’ve run is 10.  And I barely made it. (Yes, I’ve done a sprint triathlon, but that’s just 5k!) I can’t imagine doing 26.2. But for those that can and those that want to some day, go for it. You can do it. And when you run past, We’ll cheer for you loudly and then hand you a banana.

I Need to Clear Something Up

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(photo taken last week on Lake Superior)

I want to thank everyone for their thoughtful posts, emails and comments about selling our house. But I think I might have created some confusion. We have not sold our house yet, we have not moved yet. The point of that post was to just let go of the house. To release it. Believing that now it will sell.

Is that crazy? Probably. But it felt good to write it and it felt good to let it go.

We still have no idea where we’ll end up or when we’ll make a move. It will happen when the stars align.

In the meantime, here’s a little reading for your weekend. My husband found this in a pdf form online, printed it out and brought it home. It sits on the desk we both share and there’s lots of good stuff here.

My goal for this weekend is to Be Kind.

What’s yours?

Saying Goodbye

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I’ve been struggling with how to write this for weeks. in fact, just now as I wrote that I got choked up. It would be easier to just close the tab and do a google search for Geico Owl rather than write this. At least then I’d be laughing. Instead, I’m trying to let go of our house. The only house our daughter and dogs have known. The house where we’ve lived for over 11 years. The house that’s we’ve turned into a home. A very lovely, comfortable, totally-us home.

Besides our childhood homes, we’ve lived in this house longer than anywhere in our lives. And we’ve created a life together here. It’s hard to imagine living anywhere else. When we walk through other houses, evaluating layout and room sizes, I always remember what it was like to walk through our house the first time. We were young. Just 32 and 29. We weren’t married. We didn’t even have real furniture.

And know we’re looking again. For our next house, that we can turn into our next home. For the house we’ll hopefully retire in. For the house our daughter will call home. For the yard our dogs will run through. For the deck where we’ll watch the sunset and the kitchen where we’ll make dutch pancakes on Christmas morning.
But before we can find the new place, I still have to say goodbye to this place. To the view of the river from the front yard. The trails, the road, the eagles, fox, racoons, oppossums. To the backyard where daughter spent hours playing on her climber, running down the hill, planting beside me. To the back deck, which newly built, is my favorite Sunday morning reading spot. To the kitchen, which we gutted and has pumped out huge turkeys and platters of sushi. Daughter’s bedroom where I rocked and changed and sang and laughed with my favorite girl. The TV room which has been a movie theater, a dance studio and a deep dark forest of pillows all in the same night. The vaulted living room with soaring windows and a view that can’t be beat. The master bedroom which carries memories of it’s own. The master bath which we also gutted and turned into a sanctuary from the stresses of the world. The loft and office where we’ve created and painted and yoga’d and read. To the basement that I scrubbed the day we moved in and daughter painted just months ago.
It sounds silly, saying goodbye to a house. But I feel like I have to let go. Somebody else will take care of it and make it their own. Maybe they’ll paint walls or finish the basement. Maybe they’ll have better luck with the thick, rich soil in the garden. Maybe they’ll bring a new dog home and watch him run through the backyard ears straight back.
The house will be fine without us. And we’ll be fine without the house. So, goodbye 4516. Thanks for everything.

I’m Dreaming

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I’m in the thick of an online class/experience right now called Mondo Beyondo. It’s hard to describe, but it’s all about exploring our dreams. And not the dreams that happen when our heads hit the pillow, but the dreams for your life, your hopes and fears and wishes and, well, dreams.

It’s encouraging, it’s enlighting and it’s even been fun. I’ll share more as I wind down the road.

But watch this.

And read this.

I’ll see you on the other side.