Month: December 2020

Talking about My Brothers

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The interesting thing that happened today, in addition to getting my 10,000 steps

was a phone conversation with my cousin who loves to study and talk with others about relationships. I had to think about how to express what she loves to do, and I’m not sure I’ve got it just right. She wants to learn what it takes to have good relationships with other people in order to love well. She and her husband have helped others through Marriage Encounter workshops, and she is also the person who comes to any family event armed with questions to spark discussions. She likes hearing what others have to say. And don’t we all feel good when someone wants to hear us?

Today’s question worth thinking about was “what does it mean to be a good sibling?” I have four brothers, and I would call all of them good. It was an interesting exercise to define and talk about what “good” meant.

We are not above wearing cheesy reunion T-shirts for the sake of family togetherness.

Although we Smiths grew up together, we have gone our separate ways, lived our very different lives, in different parts of the country. We all have families of our own. Because we are talking about siblings, not friends or business associates or any other connection, making family of origin a priority has to be part of the definition. I love that my brothers, from time to time, have all taken the initiative to connect with each other, with parents and with me. We visit each other and make it a priority to be at family reunions and landmark events. We don’t stalk each other. We don’t demand to know every detail of each other’s lives, but when there is something to talk about, we are pretty sure we can find a family member who will take the time to be a good listener. We want to help each other when there is a crisis.

My Dad died a few years ago, and I love the way my brothers have taken care of Mom since then, each in their own special way. My youngest brother’s wife died this year and there we all were, wanting to share the loss and grieve together. One of my daughters had a pandemic wedding this fall and once again, family showed up to help and witness the special event.

Because we have met often over the years, our children know each other and have a special regard for family as well. They try to make sure that no one gets left out of the “cousin club”. I am so proud of all my nieces and nephews for their efforts to stay connected even as they have started their own families and gotten very busy.

Proud of the way the next generation of cousins has stepped up to honor family.

My brothers and their families are all interesting people and we have a common history. Those things should be more than enough reasons to want to know each other, to initiate and pursue connection. We aren’t doing it perfectly but we are learning as we go. It’s fun.

I would wish that everyone could have the blessing of good relationships between siblings, or other family members. I know sometimes it isn’t the case because living as family is a complex, and often messy business. I am glad today that I took time to think about how I can be a good sibling to my brothers. It is a topic worth much thought, just sayin’.

Real Conversations, Real People

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December continues with the dual (and totally compatible) goals of writing and walking, although not at the same time.

The weekend is always refreshing because I have the opportunity to interact with the world and reassure myself that there are still real people out there. Breaking news! We are not just talking heads on computer screens, figments of our imaginations and the internet. I was able to identify several people by their eyes and hair (or no hair, whatever…). Today I had three or four socially distanced, but meaningful, conversations with friends. Today, I went to “in-person” church.

Yep, hair and eyes, people.  That’s all we’ve got. Frightening.

The husband also looks forward to going. We’ve been talking this week about the value of face to face, eye to eye, contact and how good it is for the brain to be stimulated that way. Evidently, imaging studies have shown heightened brain activity with this kind of contact. I think we knew it was important for babies to have eye contact with their caretakers for bonding purposes, but this goes farther.

Supposedly, the only other animals, other than humans, that show this response is dogs. The person I heard this from was very apologetic to cat owners, but perhaps they need to do more studies. My cat looks me right in the eye and I know she’s thinking. I am also trying to think what she might be thinking, which means we both have heightened brain activity. I really like dogs too and am in awe of the uncanny knowledge they have of their owners. Dogs have the eye thing down, perfectly, I might say.

My cat wants to bond with me every time I sit down, but her whiskers tickle too much.

So we went to church and were reminded that this is a natural time of the year to be nurturing our sense of hope. Not just hope that pandemics end, but hopes that there is a real God and that he came once, and he has plans to come again and make all bad things good.

Following that I spent another afternoon packing boxes and bags, helping my friends who are selling their northern house. And then, of course, the 10,000 steps on the treadmill, while listening to two hour-long podcasts. I’m listening to writers, authors and editors talk about various aspects of writing. Even online, this kind of connecting gives me ideas (and makes the time on the torture machine go much faster). Maybe you’ve noticed on the sidebar of this blog that I’m a Hope*Writer. It’s a valuable group for all kinds of hopefilled reasons.

Last but not least in any way, my accountability pic of the day!

The Next Steps

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Yesterday was a different kind of exercise day. None of my steps were expressly for the purpose of getting exercise. They were all “on the job”, and included upper body and balance work.

I didn’t get an exact count but I carried 30 plus boxes of various sizes and weights down 15 steep stairs, through the house and garage and deposited them in a trailer. Stairs can be tricky, and these did not have a very wide tread and I tried a couple different methods, depending on the size of the box and whether I could see over it. I really didn’t mind the work, knowing that I was working on two different goals at the same time.

Six out of the last seven, yay me!

Yesterday wasn’t a 10,000 step day, it was 5,000, but that is fine. The thing that I love about being the age that I am, is that I can be flexible, and I can give myself grace when I don’t meet my own benchmarks. Today, December 12th, I am back on track with 10,000. Overall this month, I’ve exercised some every day, and made my goal for six days. There were a few days at the beginning before I started using the phone app to track progress, so it might have been more than six days. I am good with that.

As the month wears on I’m becoming more aware of exercise as just one part of life. It’s important and it takes effort to plan it into my schedule. Some days are full of appointments, responsibilities, and the demands of living a balanced life. There are other activities necessary to a happy life that get postponed when I’m on an exercise kick. Early in the day, I have to think about where to fit in that walk. Because it’s dark so much of the time, that walk might have to be on the treadmill at some weary time of night. Adopting this level of activity as a permanent lifestyle is going to be a challenge. It will probably be altered from time to time – thus my philosophy about giving grace. I like being kind, to myself as well as others.

Even this moving stream ices over on the edges.

I walked early this morning around the wetlands and it was cold. Most of the wetland trail is on open land around the edges of an extensive marsh. There aren’t many windbreaks and today the breeze was from the north, off an iceberg up there somewhere. I was warm enough under my coat but it wasn’t a long coat and my upper legs got tingly and then numb. I kept my hat pulled down and my collar pulled up and didn’t lift my head to look around very often. All of that and the steady cadence of walking does something to fire up my creative neurons (all half dozen of them). I get all kinds of ideas to be excited about. Walking does that and it is one of the best reasons to walk.

Today’s Four Good Things

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There were four very good things about this day. They were good things to me because they made me feel very alive and stimulated by new insights. They spurred me to action.

The earth is still spinning in space. It’s a good day.

The first was seeing an amazing sunrise, with my favorite morning people. I love watching the sky, the clouds and light doing their thing at the beginning and the end, like bookends of the day.

The second thing was a set of lessons on recognizing and understanding more about shame and the part it plays in people’s lives. It was so enlightening that I finished nine lessons. I couldn’t stop. Thank you Dinah Monahan! I would sit in any class you were teaching.

A third good thing was hearing an interview with a very insightful writer who said so many profoundly helpful things about writing. Everything she said was meaningful and gave me ideas about collaborative writing (and about life in general). I wanted to try new things right away. I had to take action and buy her book immediately on Kindle. Thank you Diana Glyer for your “Bandersnatch” book and I hope I have time this weekend to read it.

The fourth good thing was that I made my step count for the day once again. It was a combination of treadmill, walking outside, and just getting around doing life. I’m finding that it’s a commitment that’s not always convenient. For instance, it means getting sweaty two or three times a day and having to decide whether to shower and change clothes – yeah, that’s right, I don’t always do it.

You might think this picture is too big. That’s okay, you can think that. It makes me feel good to look at it.

But I feel like it is doing me some good. I’m sleeping differently because I’m physically tired at the end of the day. I’m starting to get some lower blood pressure readings, and although I’m not usually in a bad mood, I feel my mood is better than usual. It feels so good to have done something challenging.

Today as I was walking outside, sweating underneath my winter coat, and hoping my phone wouldn’t run out of battery, I kept getting texts from some poor scammer. Whoever it was (and I don’t think it had to be a woman), they used the same tired story of wanting me to be their Mary Kay consultant and help them with a big order for a daughter’s wedding. I don’t know why I get pleasure out of playing with these people for a bit, but I do. I tell them they can order off my website, which is where they got my phone number. And then it branches off into why they can’t do that, followed by how their boss is going to cut me a check for the product. Their boss? It’s such a lame story that it always amazes me.

The good part is that I did get home before my phone (and exercise app) ran out of battery. I’ve also taken a shower, finally, and will be ready for a clean start tomorrow. Just sayin’…

Old Feet

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Today brought more lights.

And more steps. I’m 7 days of walking out of 9 in December and still going.

I’m noticing something about my feet as I continue to try to do 10,000 steps a day. For a while now I have a felt lump on the middle of my foot, right on the pad next to my toes. I used to take my shoe off and look for a rock, but now I know I won’t find one. It’s called Metatarsalgia, which just means pain in the metatarsal region. It hurts for the first half mile of walking, then it kind of flattens out and may not bother me the rest of my walk even though it makes my foot feel kind of round on the bottom.

In fact, both of my feet seem a bit rolly polly on the bottom and I sometimes lurch to one side or the other and have to make a correction. On the treadmill where the path is quite narrow, I can’t get off too far to the side or I’m losing balance and doing a bad thing. I have to focus on stepping “just so” whenever I’m not holding on to the grips. You have no idea how old this makes me feel, unless you’re having the same thing happen, of course.

Mom has been remarking about the same thing happening to her for years now. She thinks it’s neuropathy, and there probably is some of that involved. She prefers to go barefoot as much as possible, so she can feel the floor or the ground. When she wears shoes she can’t balance very well and worries about falling. The shoes feel so weird to her.

My siblings and I all have some version of whatever this is. Sometimes it’s numbness and tingling, and sometimes it’s pain. We are all hikers or work in physical jobs where we need our feet so this is disturbing. It looks like it’s an inherited trait, and I don’t think there is a remedy.

This isn’t really a story, but more of an observation and an inquiry. Does anyone else have information about Metatarsalgia?

Let’s Have Some Light: Conclusion

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In the month of December I’m combining story telling and exercise in hope of making one more of a habit, and one less boring.

It was a great relief today to walk outside for all 10,000 steps. December 8th and I have 6 winning days toward my goal.

I went around a lake, over two creeks and through lots of woods. Sound like a song?

And here is the rest of the story.

After my hasty trip to Walmart, I hooked up my new extension cord, with a new 3 plug adapter, and plugged in the new net of lights BEFORE I put it up on the tree. It worked, a tangled bunch of wires and lots of little white lights. Great! Thinking I had the problem solved, I plugged in the set of blue lights as well, and both sets of lights went out again. This happened over and over as I tried different cords and configurations, and finally I was too cold to think about it anymore. I quit.

Two mornings later, I mentioned my problem at morning chat time with my brother and Mom. My helpful brother walked over to my condo, plugged in my lights and got them both to work without doing anything special. We couldn’t decide why they had been healed of their electrical problem. Actually, the net was only halfway lit up, which was still a disgusting problem, and since it wasn’t on the tree yet I let it sit for another day. Ignoring it worked once, why not a second time? Those light strings are like naughty children, kind of.

A day later I picked them up and brought them in to examine the troublemaker. The plugs on lights have little sliding doors on them with fuses inside. Extra bulbs and fuses were wrapped and taped to the string so I got some out and replaced one fuse, and then the other without success. Half of it was still dead. I had it on my lap, wondering what else I could try, sharing my frustration with God (nothing is too trivial for him) and I noticed an empty socket! A bulb had fallen out, and when I put in a replacement there was light everywhere.

Looks a little like an alien invasion, but it’s not as dark anymore in this one small spot.

I went out and hung it on the tree, very carefully I might add. What a lot of trouble for a relatively un-artistic result. I might not be done yet but I need a break from decorating. There are plenty of dark days ahead, I can do it later.

Let’s Have Some Light

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Yes, let’s have some, even if we have to buy it at Walmart.

It’s dark here in Wisconsin for more hours per day than it is light. This is noticeable darkness that comes shortly after 4 in the afternoon and doesn’t leave until past 7 in the morning. It is no wonder that people begin putting up lights in November with all those dark hours to spend looking at and enjoying them. I found myself looking at the shelves full of lights in Walmart.

There was a display board showing the dozen different kinds of winking or not winking, multicolored or single colored, bright white or warm white, single string or multi, LED or not, decorative lights. I don’t like the challenge of stringing up lights, so I chose an LED net that I could drape over the cedar near our front door. I chose a single strand of blue LEDs to wind around a bush near the tree. I went home to light up my world.

Scrounging around for extension cords was a chore in itself, since the length had to fit my distance to the outlet, and there had to be multiple places to plug something in. I wasn’t real happy with the bright yellow one, long enough to reach the neighbor’s house, but I hooked it up. With the step stool, I hung the net, tied it in place, wound the string around the bush and plugged it all in. Nothing happened. No lights.

But I am resourceful and began checking all the possible faults. The outlet was hot, no problem there. When I unplugged the net, the blue bush lit up. I concluded that the net must be the problem. I hurried back to Walmart to return it. This time, after choosing another net from a box that didn’t appear to ever have been opened, I hunted for an outlet in the store and made sure I had a working product. And I bought an extension cord of appropriate length that would lie flat on the sidewalk and hopefully not trip people.

This is only half the story. I’ll finish it tomorrow. I’m going to quit here because I just got off the treadmill and it’s late. I’m going to have to figure out how to get credit for my daytime steps when I’m not carrying my phone, because this bedtime exercise thing is not my first choice. Once more, y’all made me do it when I wouldn’t have otherwise. Thank you.

420 calories does not even make up for the dessert I had at dinner, or the cookie after watching two episodes of “Madame Secretary”.
But it’s all about numbers, getting those 10,000 steps (and apparently a walking mate as well, although that didn’t happen.)

Another Rich Experience

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I have often calculated the number of really interesting people I have known and am amazed at the variety, and the richness of these relationships. So before I post my screenshot of my exercise day I want to tell about The Sisters and what I am doing for them.

The Sisters: Susan, Michelle and Judith Madison are very special ladies!

All of us who know them just call them The Sisters, even though we know their names and how they are individuals, each in their own right. I think we call them that because their predominant impact is as a unit. Their story is fascinating and international in scope (and too big to tell here.) They are everywhere together and they depend on each other. They work together, they socialize together, they live together and back in August, they moved to Florida together. They had come to Wisconsin from Florida twenty years ago. They were tired of the cold and went back to where it was warm.

They bought a house on the east coast and filled a Penske truck with the furniture and household things they needed to set themselves up. They honestly thought they would be spending winters in Florida and summers in Wisconsin, so they left their northern house fully furnished and filled with twenty years of acquisitions (they like to shop…). Many of us had doubts about their ability to be snowbirds – Michelle is 94, Judith is in cancer treatment and Susan does not drive. As we thought, it has become overwhelmingly apparent that the northern house should be sold. This is where I get involved.

These ladies are dear friends of mine, and they need someone to pack up and store, donate, sell, or throw away all their “stuff”. It’s a complex job. When I moved two years ago, I was packing and disposing of my stuff for months before the move, and I still wasn’t fully ready. The realtor here is already showing their house and it would be best if it didn’t look quite so… well, occupied and full. Packing up for someone else is complicated. I have to consider the sentimental value of their belongings and balance that with the cost to transport things. Throw in the fact that their southern house is already full and they don’t need any of what’s up here in Wisconsin. It’s a four bedroom house and I’m averaging about half a room per day. And I’m out of boxes…

All this to say that I was there a good five hours today. I came back and made supper for the husband and myself, and then I remembered my exercise wasn’t done yet. Instead of walking on the treadmill for half an hour and one podcast, I had to do a full hour two podcast session to get my 10,000 steps. But I did it BECAUSE… I didn’t want to have to tell any of you guys that I messed up already. See, that’s how accountability works! Isn’t it cool? My legs really hurt.

There’s no date on this, but it really was today, no lie.

Help Me Be Determined

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So what exactly does that mean, helping someone (me) to be determined? I guess it’s another way of describing the call for accountability. I am at my top weight ever, and I am determined it will not go higher. Having some watchful eyes on my efforts might just help.

There is something about the start of a new month that inspires me. A month is a long enough time to establish a habit and really make a difference. December is a new month, or at least it was five days ago. I dusted off the treadmill and took a walk, and it felt okay. I did the same thing at the same time on December 2 and 3. I want to do this at least five days each week, and maybe get in a pleasure walk outside a couple of times too. Outside = pleasure, treadmill = not pleasure, for me. But I can make it work. I have to make it work. When I’m at my top weight, my blood pressure starts to go up and since there is a family history of hypertension, I am being scared into action.

December is a great month to do something for health’s sake. I know, it’s a holiday month and for many that means holiday food is everywhere, but this year might be different. Pandemic December is not ordinary December. Why wait until New Years Day to start a project that could eventually save my life?

Is anyone else doing something different this year, something that is good for you? Getting more sleep, eating more vegetables, intentionally pursuing good humor, daily brain stimulation, learning something new, doing good deeds? Not everything, just one thing. That’s what I want to do, and I’d love to be held accountable through the month of December, as I share progress here. Help me.

I promise to faithfully share this screen (Samsung health app) no matter how much it embarrasses me. Goal talk coming tomorrow.

Dreams Don’t Die (do they?)

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Just this morning I was reading a friend’s blog post (Click here for a great read) about dreams that have come, gone away, and then reappeared later in life. (Dreams, as in things you would love to do someday, not the crazy stuff that happens when you sleep.) The post ended with “What revived dreams have surprised you lately?” And, wouldn’t you know it, I had a ready answer.

All my life I have loved to camp out. One of the first birthday surprises that I remember, when I was 7 or 8, was looking out the window and seeing that my dad had put up a tent in the front yard for me. It was an old army tent without a floor, but I spent a lot of time in it that summer.

Since then I’ve done some hiking and camping out with more sophisticated tents and equipment, always enjoying it, but with the thought that I would someday like to have a camper. A small house on wheels. Open the door and step in.

The dream was kind of on the back burner for years. A camper was not the most expedient thing financially, and my husband didn’t take time for vacations. I looked at tiny houses online, watched videos of women who built their own tiny houses on trailers, and rode my bike through Florida trailer parks checking out the campers regularly.

When my husband retired and got a diagnosis of dementia, I took the dream off the burner altogether and turned off the stove. Even getting up one or two steps into a camper was difficult for him, let alone moving around comfortably in a space the size of a closet. The dream cooled off considerably.

Since moving to Wisconsin, I have found myself living a short distance from an RV sales lot. The logical thought “you’re never going to have one of these” didn’t keep me from looking at them all multiple times during the summers. I had my favorites, a line called Vintage with cool retro colors inside and out. But they were a little bigger than I wanted to deal with by myself, and pretty soon they were all sold. Now, due to the shortages of the pandemic year, the lot is nearly empty.

These are soooo cute!

And then I saw a Scamp. A neighbor bought the cutest little pod I have ever seen, just perfect for two people to have a place to eat and sleep. I didn’t really feel envy, because I knew the whole idea would not work for me, but I had trouble keeping the lid on the dream. Yes, I did. That Scamp sat where I could see it all summer. I kept dreaming she was going to invite me to take it camping for a weekend. That didn’t happen and now it is winterized and in storage.

I don’t know why I look at Facebook Marketplace, but every now and then I go there. Last week, I nearly keeled over with surprise with what came up on that feed – an AIRSTREAM BAMBI!!! For $1200. No, I thought. That can’t be. You can’t even buy a piece of an Airstream for that price. So I sent an inquiry to find out what was going on. I emailed my daughter, who owns a couple Airstreams and asked what she thought. There was skepticism.

Nothing happened until two days later, after the weekend, when I got an email back. It was real. She was a woman, she had a reason for selling it cheap, she wrote like an American, and had all the facts. What if God had decided to give me the longing of my heart?!! It would be just like him to make it an Airstream! I emailed my daughter again, thinking that maybe I should jump on this. There was skepticism.

Airstream Bambi, these are absolutely the coolest (my opinion).

While I was thinking this over, I scrolled through Marketplace again. Oddly, there was another Airstream Bambi, from a different seller, same price. What a coincidence. When I found a third I couldn’t help but wonder why the market was being flooded with cheap Airstreams. I wrote the seller asking that question. I also suggested that she should get together with the other Bambi owners when she got to her station in Alaska. Maybe they would want to start a scammer club or something…

You know, it really is hard to kill a dream, even when I know it isn’t practical, feasible, or reasonable (or possible). It just won’t die, and I will probably keep giving it backward glances until my final day. Meanwhile, I still have a tent, and a backyard, and maybe that’s right where I belong. P.S. I’m not saying I would refuse if someone wanted to give me one. You know what I’m sayin?