Posts from the ‘Front Porch Musings’ category

It’s my birthday!

Today is my birthday – I am 52 – not one of the milestone birthdays…and I’m not thinking about it in any other way than it’s my birthday – my day to – to what? Well, it always feels a little special, but generally, I don’t “do” anything different except maybe allow myself to have whatever food or drink treat I would like … because after all, “It’s MY birthday”!

There is a blog that I check once or twice a week: Karen Cheng’s Snippets of Life.  Karen just turned 29 – she wrote about it.  She lives in Australia with her husband and 2 young sons.  They have a house.  Karen works from home on some web projects but primarily she is taking care of her family.  I have very little in common with her – only the bit of technology interest/skill.  I just enjoy the peek into her life and thoughts.  So, after her 29th birthday – facing next year’s 30th – she shared some of the thoughts and questions she has about turning 30 as in “the big THREE-O” – and then she invited the sharing of stories from her “readers”.

Getting older, aging, the NUMBER – I’ve thought about it a lot!… 30, then 40, then 50 – my gosh, 50!  Even if 60 is the new 40, there is not really any denying that 50 is “middle age” – I am no longer “young”.  I don’t know where the exact line is but I do think that 50 is across it!  I don’t feel  50 – there are many times that I don’t even feel like a grown up – just a “kid” masquerading as a grownup.  How did I get to BE 50 – well  52 years old?

Karen asked some questions that she hoped someone might answer – one is “What finally made you feel 30?”  Tough for me to answer because I STILL don’t feel 30!  I remember sitting across the table from a friend’s aunt and mother one morning and we were all casually talking about age.  My friend’s aunt who was in her late 60’s, wrinkly, white-haired, moving a bit slow, commented that she still felt like a kid inside and every morning when she looked in the mirror it shocked her – ‘Who is that old woman?”.   I think of that often, especially first glance in my own morning mirror.  I’m not wrinkly or white haired (a bunch of gray, though!) and often get mistaken for much younger than I am.  But I can see the changes – my face has certainly softened, widened, plenty of fine lines – I catch a glance in the mirror and wonder, “Who is that woman?”

Me

 

I neither wear nor have interest in “youthful” fashion.  I am energetic and athletic and move easily and well but 20-30 something women look very young to me.  I AM older and sense that.  But I sense and feel it more in terms of experience and maturity – a different outlook, pace, sense of self and well-being – a calmness.

And I have to laugh at myself because the maturity is more along the lines of the realization that I DON’T know what “IT” is all about.  The REAL evidence of “coming of age” for me  is a sense of contentment.   Oh – there are plenty of things I want to do, places I want to see or see again, character improvements I’d like to make – no less hopes and dreams than when I was younger, but I’m not so anxious about them.  It is not as if the completion of any of them must be done to make my life good or successful.  I’m free to enjoy “today”.

I’ve made conscious choices about where I live, how I live, my work, my family and I’m happy with those choices.  I’ve tried things – some have gone well and some have not.  I don’t like to fail, but I’m not afraid of failing – I’m more afraid of fear keeping me from trying something.  I LIVE my life in the way that is right for me – right for my beliefs and my character.   I don’t believe life is predestined but I do believe that things unfold as they should and that we are given always what we need even if not all that we want.  I have learned to live with insecurity and in fact to understand that we cannot attain real security and so have reached a point where I can enjoy myself and my days in spite of life’s circumstances at any given moment.   I am content.  The number has ceased to be important.

Everybody needs somebody to love

Karl and Mocha

Karl and Mocha II

Karl and Mocha met yesterday on our late afternoon walk and it was love at first sight.  They played and played – mostly Karl on the ground and Mocha all over him.  Mocha is a nine month old Shih-tsu (I’ll have to check that spelling) – she spent a lot of her puppy-hood with 3 Akitas so 1 Karelian Bear dog is hardly a challenge.  So funny such a little dog and such a big dog having such fun together.  I had to drag Karl away.

Today we stopped, but Mocha had been to the vet and they had had to pull some of her puppy teeth so she was pretty groggy, but when she saw Karl she perked up a bit – at least enough for the photos and a couple of kisses.  She and her family leave today which is a bit sad …. Karl once again “stuck” with just Bob…

Karl and Bob

In His Hand

I read a daily entry from Oswald Chambers’ “My Utmost for His Hightest” every morning with my first cup of coffee and most usually from my wingback chair….these days it is in the corner of my sunroom.  When I’m travelling, I read from the recliner in the motorhome.  It has been part of the start of my day for nearly 12 years now and is that time of quiet – of settling my mind and thoughts at the start of the day.  I use the reading to quiet my head to “Be Still” (Psalm 46:10) and know that God is present and with me.  It is a time of thanksgiving, of worship, of peace and reflection.  I have been through all of the entries 12 times and still there are many days when I read something as if I’ve never read it before.  It is astonishing to me in it’s revelation and wisdom!  And the timing – it is sometimes SO timely as to feel like an angelic hand has rewritten an entry specifically to me to correspond with what is happening at that precise moment in my life.  Last week, these words were in the reading:

God is not working towards a particular finish; His end is the process – that I see Him walking on the waves, no shore in sight, no success, no goal, just the absolute certainty that it is all right because I see Him walking on the sea.  It is the process, not the end which is glorifying to God.

God’s end is to enable me to see that He can walk on the chaos of my life just now.  If we have a further end in view, we do not pay sufficient attention to the immediate present: if we realize that obedience is the end, then each moment as it comes is precious.

The journey – not the destination…  The time of NOW not the future or the past.  NOW is the blessed time whether it is a joyous time or in the most difficult and painful of circumstances.

A beloved cat, Sam, who belongs to my folks has been very ill.  Sam is special to me as well as to them.  He was the inspiration for me adopting my first cat, Gus.  Gus was my “angel cat” – a fierce and dedicated hunter but also a neck hugger and lover – with me for 9 years.  When Gus was a year old we visited my mother and Sam – Sam, who never liked another cat, took Gus under wing and taught him to hunt.  It was an incredible bonding between 2 male cats.  I lost Gus nearly 2 years ago – as far as I know to another predator.  It is still an incredibly painful loss and to this day I would gladly sell everything but my soul to have him back.

 Sam is approximately 15 years old – senior for a cat, but still an active hunter – also an affectionate cat who loves to nap on my step-Dad’s lap and have his whiskers rubbed.  Now, some mysterious infection – but as of yesterday he was eating and regaining strength – hopefully on the mend.  And it is not just concern for Sam, but also for my folks who love him dearly and have shared his life.  They and I are all well aware of the life span of dogs and cats and of the greater cycle of life that we are all part of.   That knowledge does not make a loss or the endurance of pain any more endurable – it is always just hard and exhausting.  And for me, a reminder that loss is part of life and there will be more loss in my own life – times of despair and sadness.  What brings hope is the sure knowledge that “He can walk on the chaos of my life”…

Job 12: 7-10

But ask the animals and they will teach you or the birds of the air and they will tell you

Or speak to the earth and it will teach you or let the fish of the sea inform you.

Which of all these does not know that the hand of God has done this.

In His Hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.

Midwest girl to city girl to wood nymph

I was born and grew up in Northwest Ohio – Toledo and then Perrysburg.  At 24, I took a job that moved me to San Francisco area and then several years later I moved to Los Angeles where I lived for 13 years before my move to Montana in early ’94. 

Karl will do a bit of a perimeter check on his own first thing in the morning and last thing in the evening, but he is a homebody dog – staying in the “yard” unless I walk out and then he happily goes with.  We are in the habit of a walk down the driveway as soon as there is a bit of light for me.  Karl will venture into the woods on the way back, but the trip out is along the driveway.  I have a cup of coffee with me and I amble along as he stops to sniff and explore a bit.

Tree    

Stump

 A few days ago I was standing where I took the photos above, absently watching Karl sniff around and looking at the moss covered stump.  When I lived in Los Angeles there was always a neighborhood bagel place that I could walk to from my apartment.  Standing in the early morning – something about the stump and the trees – it brought a vivid picture to mind of the contrast between the surroundings of my current home and how I once lived in the city.  In California and particularly Los Angeles, I lived in apartments that were mostly next to other apartment buildings and I had maybe one window that looked at a bit of a tree.  I was fortunate to find smaller buildings where I was one of 2 apartments on the floor so had windows on 3 sides usually, but still – it was Los Angeles – the city… sidewalks, cars, buses, small yards immaculately landscaped, office buildings…

In Montana, even my first house on a 90 x 100 lot in a subdivision – was a treed lot and there were 2 lots next to me with no homes as well as a woods behind that was a buffer between my subdivision and the one next – a huge leap from L.A.  The next move took me to a transitional rental on Flathead Lake – on the lake with my own little beach and also woods and orchard around and between the house and the road.  Swan River Road was next – a little craftsman house on 6 acres with about 2/3 in yard/pasture and 1/3 in woods – the river across the road and Swan Range rising to the east.  The house was surrounded with old growth birch and pines

Now, here I am in the 8 acre woods and cabin – turned into small ranch house – 175 yards off the road,  on top of  the first foothill before the Swan range,  40 acres of meadow beyond my woods opening onto vistas of the mountains, 40 acres of state land on the north boundary, and a nice neighbor who enjoys quiet and privacy as I do – to my west.  The woods is newly thinned and healthy with grasses and wildflowers growing up in between the trees.  The sun shines through the trees in a beautifully filtered pattern which changes from first light to last.

It is difficult to explain the thoughts and feelings that flitted through my mind in a manner of seconds – the contrast between the city and this woods.  I have lived in the lush midwest, near enough to the ocean to walk to the beach, in a neighborhood, on a lake and now in the woods by the mountains.   It is the woods by the mountains that I love best.  I bought a poster when I was 16 – it was about 2 feet wide and 4 feet high – it was simply sun shining through the trees of a woods – I could nearly duplicate the poster with any photo of my woods…. from the front porch, Saturday, July 21, 2007.

A new attitude

I make no secret of the fact that I HATE heat – I mean I really do not like to be hot.  June – July and early August I get the kind of doldrums most people get in the dead of winter.  I’ll bundle up and enjoy cold weather but heat just annoys me – humidity is another level of uncomfortable but thankfully that is not an issue in Montana. 

But, Saturday, I was in the hardware store… I LOVE a good hardware and even the Ace here is a family hardware and the people that work there are related to ??? – anyway, same people have been working there since I’ve lived in this area – 5 years – and they know me and have no problem giving me a hard time!  Typically, it is 3 or 4 trips for any one project by the time I go back for stuff I didn’t realize I’d need.  So, Saturday I was whining about the heat and they laughed at me and scolded me also – telling me to enjoy it as it would be snowing in a few months.  I said GREAT! – love snow!  BUT, I kept thinking about it and yesterday morning as I was puttering in the early morning when it is wonderfully cool and yet warm enough to putter about in shorts and t-shirt and not much else … and I realized, that here where I live, even on the hottest day there are still nice cool nights and mornings and it is really only mid-afternoon to mid-evening when it is HOT and maybe, just maybe I could be a bit less miserable if I concentrated on enjoying the morning… so, a new attitude.

So…here I am, on the front porch – 6:30 a.m. and it is 59 and a soft morning breeze wafting… the early morning birds are quiet – and although full light, the sun is not above the mountains to the east so the sky is rosy.  Karl is out enjoying the cool of the morning as well.  Bob is in the woods hunting.  And the other thing that I thought about – no matter how far past going to school I am, there is something about summer that feels like vacation time – and maybe exagerated since I work from home – but even for me, the days seem lazier and even if only in reminiscence – there is that kid-like enjoyment of “summer vacation”.

Except for a forecast respite this Thursday, there is currently no end in sight to 90 degree days.  The meterologists seem to have a kind of ghoulish excitement about the possibility of breaking all kinds of records – daily temp, run of 90 degree days, run of 100 degree days a few places.  I hope that I can keep up my variation of glass half full, i.e. day half cool frame of mind – and enjoy this time versus enduring it and wishing it away. 

The hardware guys are right of course, in a few months we will have snow… and it was only a few months back – May 3rd that I took this photo of the snow storm that interrupted the logging – so, I’ll try to keep this in mind and also take a page from Karl and Bob’s book – they know how to relax in the heat!

Snow

Bob

Karl

“Journey or Destination” or “How I got into RVing”

My friend, Carolyn, who I credit for some marvelous health improvements (see bioflavanoids in previous post this morning…) made the following comment about travel after having perused my recent travels on this blog:

“For me travelling is simply a way to get from A to B. I LOVE to go places but the getting there is not that fun.” 

The classic “Journey or Destination” paradox…  It really made me think – which I LOVE by the way!  And as a side note, if you want to read about some young women who are living – and I mean LIVING life and being thoughtful, world-caring, world-changing people – visit Carolyn’s blog and then her blogging friends (links from her site) – and their friends….  These are people that give me hope – they have committed to God, marriage, family, people in need, the environment – and they have committed in LOVE – not necessairly huge “in the news” things – but simple daily acts of thoughtfulness, random acts of kindness, “doing unto others as we would have done unto us” lives…  Sharp contrast to the “me-me-me-ness” that seems to make the news. 

 

So, back to topic… Before I had the motorhome, I would have said that the same was true for me – “the getting there is not that much fun.”  Somewhere/somewhen after much business travel and a few cross country car trips my travel philosophy changed a bit.  It was so gradual and sneaky that I didn’t consciously see it happening.  The last car trip in 2000 – Montana to Maine to Nova Scotia and back – that was the first conscious thought of RVing.  I spent 7 weeks “on the road” and except for one week in a Maine cottage, I was in a different hotel every night – with a dog and cat and their respective beds, food, dishes, litter box…plus my computer and my stuff.

 

There were many times that trip when I fantasized about being in a little rv… and that’s where I started – looking at camper vans – mini-motorhomes.  It wasn’t just the in and out of motel thing, it was also that I realized that I really LOVED “road” travel – wandering around the country on the highway, listening to local radio and at night, tv – talking to people – What’s important to people here vs there?  What’s life like in this place?  It was realizing that I loved the journey.

 

Fast forward to summer, 2005.  I had off and on looked at vans, travel trailers, truck campers, motorhomes – everything!  They each have their plusses and minuses and I dithered.  But in early summer ’05 a number of things happened – I had sold a house I loved and did not find another, a relationship ended, I had a 1-2 year work committment with a long-standing client, i.e. didn’t matter where I worked from – short story, I was “footloose and fancy free” and somewhat in need of a distraction… oh, and I turned 50…

 

In true mid-life crisis fashion, I went to an RV dealer and bought the Winnebago.  As it turned out, it was perfect for me and the boys (Karl and Bob).  At the time, buying the RV was a “means to an end” – a way to look around the country and see if there was somewhere else I’d rather live – while having the comforts of home and ability to take my pets easily.  I never expected to like the “rv lifestyle”…I thought – I’ll look around, decide where I want to live and then sell this thing and get back to “real life”. 

Ha!  Turns out that I love travelling in my “300 square foot 1 bedroom/1 bath home on wheels”.  The pets adapted beautifully and now I can’t envision traveling any other way and additionally the whole rv thing has become a hobby and the travel an addiction of sorts.  I haven’t really had a hobby before – it is incredible to me that I have become so enamored of all things RV and in the process, I hardly care WHERE I go, I just enjoy the going – with the paradox of loving Montana, my little house and the beautiful forest I live in.

 

So, maybe it is more than the RV journey – the journey of life and of discovering my place in it – on wheels or on ground.  Either way, now, for me, it is the journey.