Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Monthly Archives: January 2015


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Saturday is all about me.

Princess poses in the sun.

Princess poses in the sun.

Katie here.  What?  You thought Saturday was all about my mama?!  Foolish readers, of course Saturday is all about me.  Cause I’m a…well..you know.  Anyway, the sun is out today and my mama is home and she said to me “Hey baby-girl, it’s a pretty day, want to go outside and play Frisbee?”

Well of course I did!  I got all excited when I saw my Frisbee, and started running around and yipping and doing other un-princessly things.  Mama should learn not to ask me these questions before she’s dressed for the adventure, cause I make it very hard for her to get dressed after she’s introduced the concept of go outside to play to me.  She’s a slow learner; I say that every weekend.  Except maybe last weekend which was extraordinary.  She was on her game then, that’s for sure.

So she finally gets dressed and we go outside.  Did you know I have my very own park outside my back door?  Yes I do and I have it all to myself, which is only right given it’s my castle grounds and all.  What a beautiful day!  Blue skies and white snow and a Frisbee!  She threw it for me a few times (she’s not very good throwing the Frisbee AND taking pictures!) and I ran around and barked at her.   Sometimes I even brought it back to her.

Throw it again mama!

Throw it again mama!

 

Then she made me sit for ‘pretty’ pictures next to the birch trees.  Geeze…that is so boring mama!!!

 

Yea I look pretty.

Yea I look pretty.

And then we played recall where she calls me and I run to her really fast.  (You can click on the picture to make it bigger so you can see beautiful me running!)  Did you know she forgot to bring me any treats?  Big letdown.

Coming mama!

Coming mama!

So she throws the Frisbee again and I run and get it and then I prance it right by her and take it back to the house.  No treats?  No performance mama!

The jig's up mama.

The jig’s up mama.

Told you she’s a slow learner.  Anyway, I hopped right back up on my deck because I just know there’s a chipmunk that lives under there.  He was making me crazy!

I can hear him!

I can hear him!

Then mama said “Leave it, let’s go” and I came right back into the house with her.  Cause I’m a good dog and almost always do what she asks me to do.  She said, “Let’s go write up your adventure in the back yard girl.”  And I said…”No thanks mama, I’ll wait out here in the kitchen in case any treats that I deserve happen my way.”

I'll be in the kitchen mama.

I’ll be in the kitchen mama.

Hint hint.

Geeze.  She’s such a slow learner, my mama.

Sigh.

Sigh.

 

 


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You know you’re getting old when….

Most of the time I forget I’m almost finished with my 5th decade of life.  I think I’m maybe thirty-something.  Forty-five at the most.  Then along comes some episode and I realize how old I really am, and particularly how much older than most of the people I work with, play music with, hang out with, go to dog events with.

Etc.

So let me share with you a couple of stories that made me realize I’m no spring chicken anymore.  These are just little stories, nothing major, no epic drama.

Still…

It’s cold here in Michigan.  Sometimes it’s really cold.  We had a couple of weeks earlier this month when the wind was howling and the temps were in single digits.   When the walk from office to the car in the evenings was excruciating.  I happen to sit by a window up on the fourth floor, looking out over the parking lot and most of the winter people stop by to use my window and their remote starts to get their cars warmed up before they head out into the storm.  For most of this winter, and last winter too for that matter, it never occurred to me that my key fob also had a remote start.  That I too could have a warm car with ice melting on the windshield by the time I stumbled through the dark and wind to my vehicle.

Last week I paid attention, wrote myself a note which I placed near my keys (“start car”) and actually remembered to use the remote start thingy before getting dressed in hat, coat, scarf, boots, and gloves to head for home.  I couldn’t actually see my entire car from my office window, it was parked behind a big van, but I could see the front lights, and they blinked so I figured I was good to go.

Just before I headed for the stairs, now dressed like an Eskimo, I happened to glance outside.  Looking at my car I became confused.  What was that at the back?  Why…it’s the hatch, fully open!  And why weren’t the lights still on?  And no exhaust coming out of the back?  Surely I hadn’t….why yes I had.  Instead of pushing the start engine button on my key fob I had pushed the open hatch button.  Because they look so much alike, don’t you know.

So not only was my car not warm…it was colder than it had been before.  I quietly pushed the ‘open hatch’ button again, watched as it closed and then meekly crept down the 4 flights of stairs and out to my car where I shivered as I drove home.  I didn’t tell anyone for a long time.  Now I’m sharing with you.

Stop laughing.

Some of you know I’m the librarian for the community band that I’m in.  That means that the beginning of most rehearsals is hectic for me as people that have missed previous practices need music.  I’m always running around looking for music and making copies.  Often they start rehearsing while I’m still off doing something else.

So this week was no exception.  I’d put my clarinet together and started to warm up when someone needed something, and then someone else needed something.  Before long I’m running around and they’re playing already.  Finished with my tasks I rush to sit down in my seat, sharing a stand with the highschool girl next to me who I already know thinks I’m about 95 years old.  She looks at me out of the corner of her eye and keeps playing.  I suddenly realize I am not carrying my clarinet and I don’t know where I set it down.  I scan the room, locate it on a table, go get it and sit back down again, reaching for the top of my head where I keep my glasses when I’m not reading.

They aren’t there.

I don’t remember taking them off while I was running copies, but they could be anywhere.  Or maybe I never had them, they could be in the car.  I know I can’t read the music without them, but I figure I’ll do the best I can.  I push my chair back a bit to be further from the music stand and think “I can see pretty good tonight, maybe I don’t need those glasses anyway,” and I start to play.

The teenager next to me is still watching me out of the corner of her eye.

Sometime in the first piece of music my ear itches and I reach up to scratch it and realize that I’m wearing my glasses.  And obviously have been.  Which is why my eyes were seeing pretty good.  I’ve heard stories about people losing their glasses while they were on top of their heads.  But I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of anyone losing their glasses while they were wearing them.

And now you have.

Really.

Stop laughing.

 

 


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Major adventure

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Afternoon light.

Katie here.    You all know how my mama works too much and is tired all the time and ignores me right?  When she should be focused on me all the time, as due a princess of my standing.  Right.  So anyway, my mama and I haven’t done anything fun in a long time – I think maybe ten thousand dog years.   Well Friday night after work she told me that we were going to go on a big adventure and I was so excited I jumped on her and kissed her face and ran to the door and then she said “Not TONIGHT silly girl!” and I got all sad and depressed and stuff.

But I remembered.

And Saturday morning when my mama said she had to run some errands I jumped all around and cried and wiggled my cute butt and as she was going out the door I yipped at her and made sad puppy eyes and she finally said “Really?  You want to go on errands?  Well OK.”  And I got to GO with my mama!  I was so happy!  This was the adventure I’d been dreaming of!

Or not.

We went and mailed a box, and then we went to the car wash (I’d never been through a car wash before and I was sort of scared, but I didn’t let her know because I was afraid she wouldn’t take me on rides again if I acted like a scared baby) and then we went to the bank, but I was in my crate in the back so I didn’t even get a biscuit, and then finally we went to the store and I got to go inside and we bought two bags of my Blue Buffalo food!  That was fun!  But she seemed to be in a hurry and I didn’t get to walk around the store much, it was in, get the food, and then I’m back in my crate in the car!  Geeze.  Pretty cheesy adventure mama!

But guess what?  That wasn’t really the adventure at all!  That was just stuff mama had to do to get ready to go on the real adventure!  She started packing the car when we got home and pretty soon we were off!

We went up north!  And we got to visit every single rest stop along the way.  I made sure to whine just as we were approaching a rest stop, so she’d stop and I’d get to get out and walk around and read all the pee-mail left by other dogs.  It’s so much fun.  That would have been enough of an adventure all by itself, but it wasn’t the best part!

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A tiny bit of sun came out!

 

The best part was we went to Hartwick Pines, the state park we camped in last summer.  We got to walk on some of the trails that the mosquitoes ran us out of last summer!  No mosquitoes this weekend, no siree!   I even got to see some cross county skiers!  I’d never seen them before.  They thought I was cute.  Well of course.

IMG_0772

What are these people DOING?

 

We walked quite a ways on the trails, but then the sun started to go down and we were both hungry so we went to our hotel!  A hotel!  I’ve never been to one before!  I was so excited!  Except for the stairs.  The lady put us on the second floor and, as most of you know, I don’t do stairs.  Being a princess and all.  So mama huffed and puffed and carried me and all my paraphernalia up the stairs.  I think she packed more for me than she did for her!  She brought a sheet to put over the bedspread, but I mostly slept on the other bed.  Or the floor.  I like my space, don’t you know.

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I’ll take this bed mama, you sleep over there.

 

She brought my water dish and my food dish and a pillow and my supper and my breakfast.  I think she only packed clean underwear and some socks for herself.  I guess that’s because she’s not a princess.

I made her get lots of steps and stairs in each day as I asked to go out several times once we were in our room.  Most notably at 4:30 in the morning.  And again at 6 a.m.  It was really cold out, so once I got out there I wasn’t sure exactly why we were there, which caused me to have to sniff everything in the giant parking lot just to make sure it was safe before I anointed it.  A princess has to be careful you know.

When we left the hotel in the morning, a couple of hours earlier than my mama planned because I was impatient and tired of hanging around, it was zero degrees outside (that’s -17.7 C) and the snow crunched a lot.  Mama wanted to go back to the park and walk on some more trails.  It was going to be a sunny day and she was hoping for blue skies to go with the perfect white snow.  But it was so cold.

 

Morning light.

Morning light.

We walked a little bit and of course my feet were cold, so I held up my paw and asked to be picked up.  My mama picked me up and hugged me and we stood still in the deep woods.  We were the only ones there and there wasn’t another sound at all.  It was totally silent.  So wonderful.  My mama got a bit weepy then.  She said it was just because it was so beautiful and so quiet and she doesn’t have a lot of quiet in her life, and she didn’t want to leave the woods.  I thought maybe she was weepy thinking about carrying me back to the car, so I asked to get down and I pranced all the way back.  Some of the time we were running and laughing.  People would have thought we were crazy, but there was no one there so it didn’t matter.  Besides, they would have been right.

Mama wanted to keep driving north, but she knew we had to come back home.  We couldn’t wait for it to get warmer, and we weren’t sure it would anyway, so we headed back to the freeway.  As soon as we were on the road I fell asleep.  At least mama says I did.  I think I was just resting my eyes.  Shelties never let their guard down you know.  Anyway, I woke up as soon as we were near a rest stop, so I got to stop and explore it, but it was the only one I made her stop at.

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Just as I thought, no pee-mail for me.

 

I can be good when I want to be.

And now we’re home and I’m going to go take a serious nap.  This was just the best adventure I’ve had with my mama since we went camping!  She says she’s already got a camp site reserved on the shores of Lake Michigan for next summer.  She takes me to the best places!

My mama.  Adventure planner extraordinaire!

I think I’ll keep her.

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Where are we going next mama?

 


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WordPress Photo Challenge – Serenity

On a dreary gray winter day in lower Michigan one thing that makes me happy, and yes serene, is a walk in the woods with my girl.

How long do I have to stand here Mama?

How long do I have to stand here Mama?

For this assignment I originally considered a vast ocean or Great Lake beach, the wide open spaces of middle Michigan farm country, cross country skiing in the deep woods, even the ancient porch swing on the family farm.  But when it comes down to it what makes me serenely happy right now, right here at home, was spending time with my Katie-girl in the silent, snowy woods.

You can see other interpretations of serenity at the original post.  Or if you’re short on time and not feeling all that serene, here, here and here are a few of my favorites.   And make sure you look at this one too.  Oh…and don’t miss this one.

OK I’ll stop, even though it’s hard.  What does serenity mean to you?  Share a little of it with us; we can all use as much serenity as we can find.

Don’t you think?

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The value of music

Rose Bowl parade, taken from TV.

Rose Bowl parade, taken from TV.

I was at our little post office one Saturday during the holidays mailing something or other and the woman behind the counter and I started the normal small talk about the weather, which wasn’t particularly good that day, wind and snow, typical winter in Michigan.  She said she was worried because she had just put her son on a bus headed to the Sugar Bowl.  He’s in the local marching band and they had been invited to perform at halftime along with several other high school bands.  She was apprehensive about the trip but so very proud of him.

And there we were, suddenly talking about the benefits of growing up in a high school band.  The camaraderie, the discipline, the skills learned, the making of lifelong friends.  Sure music has value all of its own.  But the real value for kids growing up in a small rural town is that music, any kind of music, gives kids a chance to see something larger, to make something bigger than themselves.  To be involved in something beautiful.

I was thinking about that post office clerk last night as I sat high in the balcony of Hill Auditorium on the campus of the University of Michigan enjoying the university’s Collage concert.  It’s put on by the School of Music, Theatre & Dance and is filled with snippets of everything from full band and orchestra pieces, to soloists, to dancers, to Shakespeare.  It’s filled with choirs and ensembles, duets and quartets, unusual music and the classics.

Phone camera in bad light. But you get the idea.

Phone camera in bad light. But you get the idea.

One after another, without pause in between, the spotlight shifts from stage left to stage right, stopping in the center, bouncing off to the left again.  Each new act spotlighted a new glowing talent and though the audience was supposed to refrain from applause until the end of each half often it erupted spontaneously.

We just couldn’t help it.

In particular I enjoyed the Men’s Glee Club.  As they filed onto the risers behind the band I noted how sharp they looked in their black tuxes, crisp white shirts, grins on their faces.  There were almost a hundred of them and they sounded wonderful.   I thought about what kind of impression this experience was having on them.   How being able to dress up in a tux with tails and have people applaud you wasn’t something most little boys ever imagine doing.  And now here they were experiencing this concert and many others in their school musical careers.  I wondered how many of them would keep singing into adulthood.  I bet most do.

In fact all evening as  I watched and listened I couldn’t help marveling at the abundance of talent filling that stage.  And realizing that across this country and the world there’s an abundance of talent filling stages everywhere.  And that made me feel better about the state of the world.  Sure these past few weeks have been filled with bad news, scary news, often unimaginable news.  But things can’t be all bad when several hundred kids spend their Saturday night making us (and themselves) feel wonderful.  In fact the world is a pretty special place when artists share their talent, when they make such beautiful memories for themselves and their families and complete strangers.

And that, in a nutshell, is the value of music.  It makes us feel good.  Those of us sitting in the audience love it.  But those sitting on the stage producing it reap the most valuable benefits of all.  It’s the underpinning of their lives, it’s what makes them who they are and it’s what they will build the rest of their lives on.   Music.  In the end  you can’t measure the value in dollars, can never know it’s exact worth.

But last night, for those kids and their families, I’d have to say it was priceless.

TV Rose Bowl Parade.

TV Rose Bowl Parade.

 


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Planning our escape

Pretty light

Pretty light

This is that in between time here in the Midwest.  After the warm holidays filled with lights and family and good food and days off work but before the seed catalogs filled with lush green images of plants and blossoms and the LL Bean catalogs filled with swimsuits and walking shorts fill our mailboxes with hope.   For many of us it’s an empty time of year filled with cold windy gray afternoons sandwiched by  cold dark mornings and early dark evenings.  Some of us can only see endless days of shoveling snow and scraping windshields.

We think it will go on forever.

And so we dream.  We dream of warm sandy beaches and blue skies.  Palm trees or dessert cacti.  Maybe both.   And we plan.  We look at maps and brochures, scout destinations online.  We huddle around our fireplaces or over warm drinks and talk about exotic sights, intoxicating music, crowded markets.  Heat.  Laughter.  Fun.

Sometimes we get to go on those dream vacations.  Sometimes it’s not possible.  But here’s the thing.  While we are dreaming and planning, researching and reading, we experience the fun and sun in a different way.  We get to explore the possibilities and the impossibilities.  And it is fun.   Our souls warm while we dream and plan.  The days get lighter, we notice the sun more often.

The weight of winter slips just a bit.

In these last weeks of January take some time to dream, even to plan.   Find warmth and fun wherever you can, but be observant.  The days are getting longer; soon it will be February and those seed catalogs will be in our mailboxes.

And we will once again shed the gray and move toward the sun.

I’m counting on it.

Pretty bird

Pretty bird

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Parenting

I know I’ve talked about this before.  And I know, not having kids, that I’m totally unqualified to speak about it.  But what’s with parents providing daily, sometimes hourly advice and direction to their kids these days?  I sit in a cubicle and am surrounded by parents.  Most of them are parents of adult children, children who are off at college or working jobs and living in their own homes.  Yet they seem to need to talk to Mom daily.

About every single little thing.

And Mom seems to be the one that orchestrates all decisions, events, discussions and sometimes even meals.  Really?  These kids can’t decide whether to sell their college books when the news semester starts without discussing it with Mom?  They can’t go into their wireless carrier and straighten out a bill without having their Mom call?  They need daily prompting from Mom to take stuff out of the freezer for dinner, or to arrange a time when everyone can get together for a holiday meal?  They need Mom to negotiate between squabbling siblings?

Huh.  I don’t remember ever doing any of that.

When I was in college we only got to call home once a week for a few minutes.  And we’d never have called during the day because daytime long distance rates were off the charts.   And no way would we have called a parent at work.  Ever.  For anything.

So as I watched the news last week about the hedge fund manager allegedly shot and killed by his 30 something son because he was contemplating lowering the son’s allowance and was going to stop paying the son’s rent I have to ask the question.  How much accountability and responsibility is being given to these adult children?  And are parents doing the kids or themselves any favors by being so involved in every single aspect of their children’s lives?

When do their kids get to be the adults?

On the other hand Wednesday of last week I also stopped by a funeral home to pay my family’s respect to the mother of a friend.  She died right after the New Year, and was only ill a couple of months.  You could see the adult children struggling to accept their loss.  It’s a lot, the loss of a mother, for anyone no matter their own age.  And as I was driving back to work that afternoon I thought about it all.  The helicopter parents.  The adult children relying so much on their parents for daily decisions in these times.  The way things are  so different now than when I was a young adult testing the waters of life.  Life without parents.

And I knew for sure that there was at least one set of siblings that would give a lot for a little helicoptering right now from a mom that has moved on to her next adventure.  Shoot, if I could I’d call my mom right now and ask her how long it took her to grieve her own mother.  And the recipe for that broccoli rice casserole.

I turned out to be who I am because of the way they raised me.  They weren’t helicopter parents, but that wasn’t the style in those days.  Maybe if I had been born at the end of the last century instead of the middle they would have been coptering around me and my three siblings.  Somehow I don’t think so.  That doesn’t mean they didn’t love us, it just means they came from stock where you let the kids make their own decisions, good and bad.  As long as we didn’t kill anyone in the course of growing up we were allowed to learn our own lessons.

Parents have lots of ways of showing love.  Maybe parents of today just show it in a myriad of tiny minute decisions and shows of support.  Maybe that’s not all bad.  Maybe having a parent that cares is all that matters.  Maybe kids will grow up when they have to, helicopter parents or not.

In the end who am I to judge parenting skills.  Maybe I’m just feeling envious when I hear all those phone conversations between adult kids and their moms.

Maybe a little helicoptering would be welcome in my world about now.

Maybe I just miss my mom.

Yea, that’s probably it.

I miss my mom.