Puttering through life

This blog does not receive enough attention. It is a good indicator about how I treat myself. I do not give myself enough time and care. For instance, this winter has been a crappy one health wise for me. I have had either a head cold or flu at least once a month starting in October. Two colds turned into strep throat with the second case requiring a stronger antibiotic one week after I finished the first round of antibiotics. This week to my joy and denial my monthly head cold became walking pneumonia. I feel okay other than achy shoulders, a wicked cough and lungs that feel like they are being squeezed in a very gentle but annoying way.

Today I'm grumpy and feeling sorry for myself. My body is telling me to slow down and smell the flowers. My head keeps spinning. I feel driven to run the treadmill of life because I want some form of control, some benefits. Well those benefits result in colds and a stupid self imposed schedule:
5:45am haul butt out of bed
7:00am board bus for the best half hour of my day...I read or knit and watch the sun rise or fill the sky
7:35am start work
4:00pm run to catch 4:06 bus (only to find bus full of university students who feel that their 10 minute ride must mean they have the limited number of seats). Note some days J is working at the university too...we can drive home together...I can breath
4:45pm I am home (if J not at university, he has picked up the kids cuz as usual I'm running late)
5:45pm food enters belly
6:00pm dishes (no dishwasher in our house...egad I live in the dark ages)
6:30pm play time with the kids.
8:00pm kids in bed but guilty mom still snuggles with her lil bug
8:30pm lunches and one household chore to keep up with things (Monday dust living room, Tuesday scrub kitchen floor and front hall, Wednesday laundry, Thursday garbage and dust bedroom, Friday no chores)
9:45pm flicking channels (nothing on as TV programs kind of suck lately and we don't have cable)
10:30pm bed and book
11:00pm or later sleep
hit repeat times 5 until Saturday where life is slightly more leisurely once you clean the bathrooms, do the laundry, go for groceries and vacuum.

Yet there is reason for optimism. Spring is here. My bike is ready to start being my "bus" to and from work (just have to get rid of my pneumonia first). The kids, J and I are loving the outdoors. Backyard is racked and holds promise (though in reality we need to overhaul it and plant some grass...but there is something rustic and natural about packed dirt and weeds). My monkey boy is turning 7 very soon, we are going to Fredericton NB pretty soon, and our annual trip to Alberta is booked.

I just need tell myself to step off the treadmill, stop making to do lists at 5am in the morning and find some flowers to smell (crocus' look out!).

This week's You Capture photo challenge was happiness.

Happiness is universal and yet personal. My son came home with a project from school today. It was a piece of paper with a star at the top and a "poem" underneath it. The star had the phrase "I Wish" written on it. The poem read

Star Light, Star Bright
I Wish I May
I Wish I Might
Have the Wish
I wish tonight

Many of us have looked upon the vast night sky and recited this phrase, sending up a wish to the universe. My son's wish was "I wish I had presents all the time". A purely materialistic wish but it clearly spells out when he feels happiness.

For myself, my star wishes are simply for the feeling of happiness (honest). I experience happiness when I look upon the smiles (impish or pure) of my family. I'm filled with happy contentment when my husband's arms are wrapped around me. I delight in watching people letting loose and being a little silly. I'm giddy when delving into chocolate...cake, cookies, bars, beverages (you get the idea). I feel happy when I am close to nature.

This week I captured the smiles of my family.




But today on my bike ride to work, I felt happy. The air was crisp and smelled of fall. The trees are starting to display their glorious fall colours. The sun shone upon the earth making the dew twinkle and my heart rejoice. This picture captures the morning for me. My bike and nature.

I've been desperately seeking out time. Time for household chores, time for me, time for the kids, time for hubby, time for friends, time for projects, time to breathe. Returning to work has been good for me. I thrive on routine. Work forces me to better manage my time. Yet I begrudge how little time is left for moments of pleasure.

I've had some good times:
*family trips to museums: Pinhey's Point Historic Site, Canada Science and Technology Museum, Canada Aviation Museum, Cumberland Heritage Village Museum (for Classic Car Show)
*strawberry picking on July 1st in the Ottawa Valley countryside
*weekend at a real Ontario cottage with some dear and amazing friends, which included a visit to Santa's Village, ice cream, Gaymer cider, wine, and two nights of playing Carcassonne
*brunch at the Chateau Laurier with 3 fun friends
*beach moments: Lac Philippe, Mooney's Bay, Britannia Beach (all within easy driving distance)
*day at Saunder's Farm
*morning bike rides to work
*Friday's off from work and parenting
*movie at a theatre with a friend to see the latest Harry Potter

I've had bad times:
*work as I know it is to come to an end due to a shift to a new "business model" of "partnerships"
*mounting sleep-deficit (mostly due to a young lady who is possessed and requires momma)
*feeling depressed, overwhelmed, angry or something or other and having hard time handling this emotion

I will continue to hunt for the elusive element of time and remember to enjoy the moments of fun.

I often think I want to live in a hip urban neighbourhood. It would be great to walk out your front door and mosey on down to the local bakery, farmer’s market, coffee shop and quaint stores. Perhaps we could live more environmentally such as both of us cycling to work, walking to nearby parks or simply just reducing the size of our footprint. However, an urban neighbourhood in Ottawa is out of our price range.

We live in a old suburb. Our house was built in 1966. It is in dire need of some updates. The street is busier than we would like but we remain within the green belt. We have a kick ass sized lot with old trees. There is a mix of ages and a small mix of ethnic groups in the neighbourhood. The neighbours are super nice, friendly, observant and protective. We can let the kids play in the front drive-way (under parental observation of course) and enjoy waving and talking with people, their dogs and kids. I guess it isn’t so bad.

Owning a sizeable lot in the burbs means we must partake in some significant yard maintenance. Our front lawn consists mostly of weeds. There is clover, dandelions, crab grass, plantain, mallow, chickweed, wild strawberries, etc. J thinks it can be kind-of pretty as there are purple, white and yellow flowers. I, on the other hand, am slightly embarrassed by the composition of our lawn. Thankfully our surrounding neighbours seem to sport the same type of lawn. So I’ve come to embrace the nature of our lawn.

I am a vigilante when it comes to mowing the lawn. I LOVE a freshly mown lawn. It causes anxiety and frustration to see the lawn to grow for more than 7-10 days. I especially love hauling the gas powered lawn mower from our rotting shed (even with the knowledge that I will be polluting the environment). I delight in quickly starting the mower and hearing the engine roar into life. I revel in the idea of making a pattern in the front lawn. I tend to alternate between mowing the lawn vertically, horizontally and diagonally. This pattern change is a technique I learned from my dad.

My dad is a zealous lawn guru. He would not put up with the number of weeds I have. I’m sure he would be sporting his lawn weeder daily and would not hesitate to use chemical means to eliminate them. Nor would he baulk at the idea of re-sodding the lawn or at least adding topsoil and fresh grass seed to the lawn (a project that I am too lazy and cheap to undertake). I did learn from him to take great pleasure in mowing the lawn. I remember standing back with him and just enjoying the view of the lines cutting through the lawn. To this day, I admire my handiwork at mastering nature. The accomplishment and satisfaction of mowing a lawn pulses through me and I can’t help but feel a smile spread across my face and a desire to jump for joy.

My desire for a mown lawn must irk the neighbours. After I am done, the sense of obligation to keep up infuses the neigbourhood. It always makes me secretly giggle to see neighbours hauling out their mowers within a few hours or a day after I tackle my yard. It is funny to think that I am promoting a suburban ideal and forcing others to conform. Too bad they don’t seem to revel in the chore.