What a Dipstick

Twenty-two years ago, my little family moved to Helena.  Everyone talked about Mt Helena and the wonderful trail system right in town.  I knew about the trails from an annual training a year prior.  I loved hiking the trails.  About sixteen years ago, I joined a group of ladies that mountain biked.  I am not a biker on mountains that steep, but I heard about the Scratchgravel trails.  I attempted the trailhead off of Norris.  I didn't care for it.  Years later, I tried finding the trailhead off of Head Lane.  I wasn't impressed because I saw nothing.

With the loss of our field for walking by our house, I thought I would try Head Lane again.  Madelle and Jerry have hiked it the last two summers.  Now, the mountain that is part of the Scratchgravel Mountains I climbed once.  My oldest son and I tackled it one Christmas Day.  We basically went straight up.  Ouch.

So, with Leo next to me, I drove up Head Lane.  I made it to the bus turnaround like last time and didn't see any trails.  Stupidly, I get nervous with country roads that look like they only go to people's homes, but I was determined to find where the trailhead began.  I kept driving.  I sighed with relief when I saw a sign that I followed to a nice parking spot.

What a perfect spot!  The trail system is extensive and the old roads are perfect.  Yes, all of them have uphill climbs, but the options are easy and hard.  I loved it.  Flowers were blooming all over the place.  The views were beautiful.  I even saw plenty of prickly pear, which I love.  I didn't notice any barrel cactus.  I probably will later, but if not, the rest was stunning.  I am so excited to be able to come here to walk the dog.

Of course, I pushed myself a little too far on my sore leg.  I went .75 in one direction.  I stuck to an old road until on the way back I saw a trail that would be a bit of a short cut.  Not the brightest idea.  Luckily it didn't get steep.  I loved snapping some pictures.  The funny part is that I am such a dipstick.  I have lived so close to the perfect spot to go hiking.  I only saw three people and two dogs.  Oh, well.  Better late than never.

Here are some of the pictures from the hike.

I have also meant to write about a fishing trip Clay and I took last Saturday.  The weekend's plan originally were to host a family gathering.  We canceled do to Covid, but Clay still came home.  I was so thankful that he did.  Anyway, here are some of those pictures as well.  We dropped a line in Holter Lake and the Missouri River.  No bites.  Next time.

Loss and Gains

This week I feel very scattered.  I look at my life around me and wonder what is the next thing to conquer.  My thoughts flit from blog posts, to yard work, to de-cluttering, to cleaning, to sewing, to writing, to crocheting.  Oh, then I throw in walking and hip exercises and other projects that I can dive into.  I am not at all focused.

If I add my thoughts about what to write about, I worry my head might explode.  As I walked around with Leo this morning, my thoughts returned to loss over and over.  Then I would remember Father Shea's homily about not whining.  I would think of the positive mixed into the loss.  Yep, my head is spinning.  This means I should probably write.  I worry my theme is always the same.  My poor readers, but this is what is on my heart right now.

As I have probably said over and over, I have lost all my travel for the year.  I lost my mom.  And again, as I have said before, this has been an ongoing loss, so I am amazed at my emotions with this loss.  I have lost my ability to breath when I go shopping or go to church.  I developed allergies in the last year.  I have always been claustrophobic when something is over my face, so  between the two, I have lost the freedom to breath if I go out into the world and have to wear a mask.  Adding to this, I have lost my garden nursery two blocks from my house.  I have lost my writing spots at the library and Scenic Brew.  Yesterday, I lost my walking area.

Behind the subdivision I live in, an area of over ten county blocks has stayed empty.  People walk in the area over a bunch of paths and dirt roads.  Meadowlarks, fox, and rabbits live in the tall grass.  Barrel and prickly pear cactus bloom in the spring.  I love walking in the area with Leo.  Yesterday, I finally decided to walk a little further.  I had to turn around because a fence is blocking the road on the Mill side of the land.  Today I walked through the Scribner section.  The new fence will block my way soon.  In fact, I won't walk it again.  Today was my last time.  Yes, I was trespassing.  Now Leo and I only have the courts to walk in which is boring for both of us.  I will have to load him up in the pickup now to take him for fun walks.  I will miss the field dreadfully!!!

Alas, I know that I have to face one more loss this year.  In a couple of months, a dear friend will be moving away.  Part of me wishes I could just rip the Band-Aid off and get it over with.  The other part of me wants the time to drag by before the big move so I can enjoy my last days with this person.  But this is what life is.  Loss.  Fortunately, life is also filled with gains.

I have gained an appreciation of life before 2020 with no masks and the freedom to travel all over the world.  I mean, I always appreciated those things, but now they seem so much sweeter.  I don't think I will ever see either the same again.  I have gained a new deck and wall.  For years, I have wanted both but the travel took all my extra money.  I am really excited to have both of these projects close to being done.  In the evening, I sit on my deck and enjoy the backyard.  It is delightful.  Once it is finished, I am excited to have dinner outside.  And the wall???  The front of the house finally feels finished.  Sure, I need to work on the flowerbeds the wall has created, but that will happen in time.  Even if my hip doesn't let me dig, Clay is going to help.  I am blessed!!!

I have also gained two sewing machines and a million projects.  Blessing or curse?  I mean really, I don't need anymore hobbies and projects.  My house feels like it is overflowing with stuff.  This morning I moved a big chest after taking everything out of it.  Now, I have a bunch of quilting stuff in the cabinet.  But where to put the stuff that was in it?  A lot will go in the garbage.  Other stuff will go into the library.  I have room on the book shelves for all of Jerry's sports cards.  I have to figure out what will happen with some photos and art stuff.  De-cluttering and reorganizing is a process!

Gains and losses abound this year.  I have conquered finding a place to put all the sewing stuff and the sewing cabinet that is in the garage.  I will bring that into the house later this week.  Now, I need to finish finding spots for everything that is still on the floor.  Oh, the work of a crafter is never done!!!

Hoarding

One of my biggest fears is becoming a hoarder.  I felt on the cusp of slipping into the mindset.  I like to have items on hand like cleaners, food staples, and projects.  Normally, I am good at cleaning areas of clutter throughout the year, especially in the public areas of the house.  I want to have a welcoming home for friends and family.  I do get into trouble with the closets, cupboards, and garage.  The last few years have been bad for various reasons and the junk has accumulated.  Am I a hoarder?

My mother was a bit of a hoarder.  Growing up, I had to keep some of her boxes in my room.  I would be embarrassed when friends came over because of all the junk.  After leaving home, she moved my sister into my old room and turned hers into a sewing room.  The boxes multiplied.  When my sister moved out and we came home less, more boxes moved into the house until every extra space was being used in all of the bedrooms and the back bathroom.  In the end, I could stay with Mom only if I slept in the recliner.  Well, needless to say, we had a ton of boxes to go through when we cleaned out the house.  I began to worry.

Every time I turned around I felt like I was adding more stuff to my truck or pile to be put into the truck.  I came home with boxes of pictures, sewing projects, dishes, cups, and odds and ends.  Crazy.  I stuffed everything into the garage or my writing room.  Ugh!!!  My life was becoming the stuff of nightmares for me.  What was I going to do?  I needed to make some hard core decisions and start getting rid of stuff.  I have a lot more to do, but I have made progress.  I have made a number of trips to the dump with Clay's help.  I have made a number of trips to Good Sam with Madelle's help.  Jerry listed big items on the classifieds and sold a few.  Next week he will work on a few more.  Here are some pictures of my progress.

In these before and after pictures, I still have two boxes of fabric that need to be given to two cousins.  I also have a couple of items to go to Good Sam.  I can't get my pickup into my side yet, but I will by the time the snow flies.

Before

After

These two photos are a little disappointing.  I still have to get stuff off the pool table.  Jerry will list that next week.  I will put up the saw horses and have a place to work on new doors for the inside of the house and a couple other projects I have planned in the next year or two.  Also, the tools on the floor will leave when the deck is finished.

Before

After

This area doesn't look great, but I will say that it is.  This is Jerry's side of the garage for all of his military and catering stuff.  I need to clear the table for him to be able to use.  He will sale the two chairs or they will go to the dump.  Otherwise, the area will stay his.  The boxes to the right are the sewing projects.  Yes, I am going to be busy!!!

Before

After

            Wow, there is a floor.  Soon, I will have a big space for projects.  I am excited.

After

After

I will always have a cluttered garage.  I like to paint, stain, create, garden, and a million other things.  With that said, I also want my garage to be open and usable.  I don't want to be a hoarder.  I don't believe I am one.  As I grow older, I want to continuously scale down so my kids don't have too much of a mess to fix when I pass away.  Oh, and the cat in the picture will be staying.

Complicated

The last couple of days, "it's complicated" has echoed through my thoughts.  I hate that saying which is so prevalent when it comes to television and the movies when people are talking about their love life.  I always get annoyed with that overused line.  Yet, here I think of how appropriate that saying is when it comes to my relationship with my mother.  Complicated!

Frankly, I don't even know where to start.  Later this year, probably in October, I will write a memoire that I may or may not publish.  Until then, I do have a few things I want to discuss.  I loved my mother growing up even when I wished I was adopted, even when I wished Dad would divorce her and let me live with him.  Life was hard in the shadow of mental illness.  After I left home, the love faded slowly on her bad days and blossomed on her good days, only to be dashed again.  Over time, the bad days became more common.  I lost the love when Dad became sick.  Her bad days became rampant.  I only held on out of respect for Dad, Grandpa, and motherhood.

The last year leaves me a bit speechless.  I felt so much hate and loathing.  I felt frustration and confusion.  My emotions were held hostage.  I was a prisoner.  I felt like a monster.  After Mom died, I felt such a sense of relief, freedom.  Yet, my sister and I had a huge mess to clean.  My mother was a hoarder.  The house was so full in half of the rooms we couldn't even move around in them.  No repairs had been done in years.  We had our emotions to deal with and are still dealing with them.  We both have the vision of our mother wasting away though perfectly healthy in body.  She choice to stop living by not eating and drinking.  We had to pick up the pieces.

When I wrote my memoire surrounding my dad's death, I was filled with such pain.  The first fifty thousand words helped me with my November project in 2016, but I never finished the project.  In fact, I haven't taken the time to read through it or continue.  My courage has faltered because I think I won't like the person I was then.  I hated my mom.  I wanted to show the world what a monster she was during that time.  In the last four years, my vision of her hasn't changed much, but I know there is more to my mom.  People loved her even if I didn't at the end.

As the craftier sister, I took over sorting through all the quilting items.  Everywhere I turned, I found unfinished projects of my mom's.  A quilting block here, a quilting block there, cut up fabric, entire quilts that only need a binding, partially completed wall hangings, in total there were nine to ten boxes I filled.  My anger fought with my empathy.  I could see her good and bad days in the projects she left behind, the legacy she left behind.  I called my husband and warned him.  The boxes were coming home.  I was going to attempt to finish them with the timeline of ten years.  I won't become a hoarder.  If I haven't done anything with them in five years, I will pitch boxes.  What isn't done in ten years, I will pitch.  (Really, I will find a good cause or person who wants to do the work.)

In fact, once the gardening season is over, my focus will be writing memoire and quilting.  I want to find healing and maybe a little love.  I want to show the devastation of mental illness, but with empathy, not loathing.  All will be done with the prayer of surrender and the ability to see my mother as God the Father sees her.  In small ways, I have already started.

The other day, I thought about how I used to enjoy calling my mom on one of her good days.  I loved to tell her what I was up to and hearing what her latest project happened to be that I could very well have to finish.  Oh, the irony.  I honestly had wondered if I would ever have a positive memory.  God graced me with one.  Yes, when asked about my mother, saying it's complicated is quite appropriate.

Oh, and here is one of the projects that needed finished.  Mom sewed the entire potholder except the back part of the binding.

A couple of nights ago, I googled YouTube videos to teach me how to hand sew the last part of the binding.  I did it!!!  I have finished one small project in the pile of unfinished items.  I would love to say that I am well on my way to accomplishing my task, but I won’t jinx it.

Surrender

For at least a year or more, I have been praying to surrender my thoughts, feelings, troubles, life in all things to God.  The prayer is a novena, nine days.  Over and over, I say the daily prayer that ends with repeating ten times, "O Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything."  I usually have something in mind when I pray to surrender.

Today as I prayed, I was thinking about the virus, masks, and everything that goes with the situation of our world today.  People spewing their feeling on wearing the mask or not wearing the mask.  In my own circles, people have been so rude about their opinions.  I am no exception except I understand the other side of the argument.  I don't degrade their intelligence or moral character.  I only state my opinion in conversation.  I haven't been rude to strangers or workers.  I have been agitated.  I am trying to surrender this to God.  Today, a passage jumped out at me.

"Oh, how much I wish from you this surrender, to help you and how I suffer when I see   you so agitated!  Satan tries to do exactly this: to agitate you and to remove you from my     protection and to throw you into the jaws of human initiative."

Satan is winning the war folks.  The attitude of so many people in the area of the virus and all things politics is agitated, hateful, and criminal in some instances.  Daily, I feel myself grow upset about something I see and hear.  I think about getting off Facebook, but that is my only social time it seems.  Plus, I hate to be out of the loop.  I am not sure why I think the loop is reliable.  I read a post about how Ireland is upset that US citizens are making them sick.  Really?  I thought Europe still has a ban on the US traveling to their countries.  Everything I read seems unreliable making me more agitated.  I also wonder what we used to talk about because now the conversation is only about the world.  I am sick of the world.  The circle is complete and the point goes to Satan.

My world feels agitated from the cancelation of everything.  I miss going to the movies, Alive @ 5, barbecue competitions, the Fair, Festivals, big barbecues, and the rodeo.  Travel has been taken away with no trip to San Antonio for my thirtieth anniversary of military training.  The in person Vegas workshop is canceled.  No church retreats.  I miss giving hugs at church.  I miss human interaction.  I hate not seeing smiles from the people I pass.  My life feels stripped away.  I know some of you would say, "boohoo.  Get over yourself."  I say thanks for the understanding.  More points go to Satan.

What do I do?  What can one person do in all this ugliness?  I pray for my own sanity.  I pray for peace within myself, peace for the world.  I am praying for the strength to stay home, away from the craziness.  I go outside to enjoy the sun and hard work of gardening.  I keep trying to find good topics for my blog, though I feel I have failed at that.  I need a theme for the year that is positive and uplifting.  I want to make my facebook feed a small island of positivity.  Do I sound a bit like Pollyanna?  Maybe, but I think we could use a good dose of her right now.  

The Great Novel Challenge

Written and Published in 364 days.

I can’t believe that over a month ago, I turned in my last novel to win the Great Novel Challenge.  Many times, I thought I would fail.  In the end, I finished with two days to spare.  I am so relieved that I conquered.  I keep thinking about the lessons I learned along the way.  Here are a few of them.

My Norwegian stubbornness saved the day.  I am a very competitive person.  Fortunately, I am also very realistic.  I suck at many things, like softball.  When I play softball, I know I am not good so I only play for fun.  I don’t compete.  With writing, I feel I am pretty good.  Not great, yet, but good.  I have all the skills to finish six books in a year.  I stubbornly worked the hours to get me the win.  I am so thankful I am stubborn which took me through the tough times of a tight schedules, dead hip, surgery, and teaching again.

I learned 20,000 words a month is a doable number.  In fact, I am feeling guilty writing this because I haven’t done one word since April 28th.  Yikes.  Yes, I need to turn my sights to settling all of my mother’s affairs and resting.  Once the daughter takes flight, I will go back to this schedule.  For the time being, I will enjoy her last year at home.

I learned I can write historical romance.  My second or third book was set during the early 1940’s in Kalispell.  I enjoyed the process of the story.  I look forward to doing more of this type of book in the future.  I have always wanted to write a historical saga.  Now I know I have the chops for the task.

I learned I hate writing short fantasy novels.  My two Death Song books were too short.  They are good, but I want Kirzantra’s story to be told in the epic form.  She is a hero of legend and her story needs to be treated this way.  I was excited that my Valkyrie series turned out well with the shorter style.  This made the last three books so much fun.  Her story worked perfectly for the 40,000 word format.

I am not sure when I wrote the words above.  As some point, life imploded.  I believe the chaos struck with the cleaning of Mom's house, the yard sale, and traveling back and forth.  Today as I was organizing my new schedule, I opened up my laptop to see what my topics were for blog posts.  This stood at the top of the page.  But a lot has happened in the last half a month or so in my life.  Where am I now at writing?

I think I have talked about taking the summer off.  That still stands.  I am enjoying decluttering and gardening.  The garage looks great.  Next I will conquer each room in the house.  I am excited to have it feel less claustrophobic.  The yard will continue along.

Oh, and I love all the reading I am doing with the Fantasy Workshop I will be doing in September via Zoom or some platform.  I have read seven books since June 7th.  Of them, my favorites have bee Stephen King's, If It Bleeds and V.E. Schwab's, A Darker Shade of Magic.  I still have thirteen more to read.  Exciting!!!

Even though I am taking the summer off, I have ideas running rampant in my head.  I have a new fantasy story about two witches that is going to be fun to write.  I have a short story I have to write for the workshop.  I hope this story will fit.  Time will tell.  I am also playing around with the idea of two memoires to write and another one to edit.  I will write more on this later.

As I look towards a month and a half of no fiction, I am excited by the prospect of enjoying the sun and getting my hands dirty.  With the garage clean, I also am excited to do a little painting.  If you look at the pictures below and the six books that I wrote in a year, the world is full of possibilities in the area of creativity.

Hum, I think my next goal is a complete shelf!

All my published books so far.  I love it!!!

Black Lives Matter

All of my life, I have worked to keep an open mind about most topics.  A couple have found me very prejudice in the past.  And like all humans, I still have prejudices.  So, when I peruse social media, I try to be fair when I read different posts about some of the topics that trip me up.  Yesterday, I read some points about Black Lives Matter that made me stop and think.

When Black Lives Matter began, within months, I hated the organization, but I couldn't put my finger on the reason why.  They do matter.  If a person were to treat my niece or nephew (they are actually my dear military buddy's kids, but I see him as a brother and them as niece and nephew) wrong, I would be livid.  And actually, I was when this little monster in grade school told my nephew it was a white drinking fountain only.  So, if I believe black lives matter, why don't I like the movement?  I kept thinking it is because all lives matter.  But I knew that wasn't the reason.  I have been searching.

Yesterday, I read a post that slapped me in the face.  The rally cry "Boston Strong" didn't bother me even though we left out all the rest of the cities of the United States.  "Stand with Vegas" also didn't bother me.  Hum, what makes Black Lives Matter different?  This is basically the same thing. 

All day, I thought about my negativity towards Black Lives Matter with these new ideas rattling around in my head.  As I was falling asleep, the reason hit me.  The violence that follows the Black Lives Matter movement is why I don't like the organization.  Hate bubbles up around it.  This happens with the Pro Life, Pro Choice movement.  I don't like either of these either.  All three movements provoke the worst in people.  I can't support any of them.  So where does this leave me?  Am I racist?  Am I a baby killer because I don't do the Pro Life thing?  Am I infringing on women's rights if I don't support Pro Choice?  No.  I am not racist because I don't support Black Lives Matter.  Instead, I support those of diversity as they come across my path.  Do I kill babies?  No.  I support by donating to organizations that help mothers who choose to keep their babies.  Do I hurl judgments at those who get abortions?  No.  My heart breaks for the struggle they are in at that point, and I love them.

Where does this leave me now?  Pretty much the same.  I don't care for the Black Lives Matter movement.  I believe it provokes more division, but I understand and agree with the fact that we need to work against racism.  I don't have a better way of doing this except in my own little world of being kind to all people.  Thus, when my friend's daughter protested up in the Flathead Valley, I smiled.  I was glad and proud she could stand by her beliefs.  The United States was founded in our freedoms to have different viewpoints and ways of doing things.  As for the violence?  That is a post for another day.

Three Elephants

For the month of June, I didn't hit one personal goal on my worksheets.  Hum, I probably hit my reading goal because I did read four of the twenty books I have to have finished by September for a writing workshop.  However, I didn't keep track of the time, so I am not counting the win on my spreadsheet.  I am not going to kick myself too much.  We did have the funeral for Mom and cleaned out the entire house.  Also, the house has a buy/sale agreement.  June was productive on this level.  Now, I look at July and wonder what is next?

I am overwhelmed.  Everything is messy in my life: house, yard, and garage.  I have resolved myself to the fact that I won't be writing fiction this summer, but I still want to write.  Where do I start?  I am reminded of the question of how do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time.  Unfortunately, I feel like I have three elephants in my life.

In the summer, I hate cleaning house.  I tend to leave it until the last minute.  Okay, I always leave it to the last minute.  Little squirrels distract me from my chores: crocheting, writing, cross stitching (thanks a lot Madelle), photography, gardening, and the list goes on.  I am trying to change that bad habit.  One room at a time.  Today, I am working on my bathroom.  I know.  I can do more than that in a day, but I would rather be outside if the weather is good.

In the last two days, I have worked in the sidewalk garden.  I am not close to being done, but I will keep at it.  Once the grass dries out, I need to work on the mowing and trimming.  I can't think about the other gardens or I might give up.  My hand and wrist are a bit sore from trimming two of the bushes.  I might have to take it a bit slow today and do more housework.  Boring.

The garage is a huge project.  Between not cleaning it in years and all the moving of stuff into the huge space due to my father-in-law's passing a year and a half ago and now my mother's death, I have a disaster.  I am excited though because Clay is coming later this week to help me get stuff hauled to the dump and organized.  I will also take runs to Good Sam.  Finally, I want to sell two big ticket items at least.  I will have a clean garage at some point.

Writing is my last part of my life I need to get back to in some regards.  I don't really count this as an elephant.  Sure I have things that need done, but this is more for my peace of mind.  I am leaving the fiction writing alone for a bit.  I need to process life and get life in order before I add that distraction to my day.  I have sixteen more books to read.  That is my main goal, but I have to literally write my own words.  I am going to blog and do morning pages.  My voice is struggling, so I might be writing erratically, but I will be writing.

With three elephants to eat and a little writing, I am working at twenty minute segments.  First thing in the morning, I will write my morning pages.  This is mandatory for a good writing schedule to begin my fall.  Later in the morning, before it gets hot, I will work in the yard.  In the afternoon, I will work in the garage.  The evenings I will use for housecleaning.  In between all these activities I will rest, walk the dog, and run errands.  Taking all of these items in chunks, I am not so overwhelmed.  Now, I just pray nothing happens for the next three months to mess up my plan!