New Year, New Chapter!

So I made that comeback last month, and I had this plan for us to reaquaint ourselves and THEN I would tell you my big news. It was a great plan, until I almost forgot to check back in with the news! Apparently we celebrated holidays and started a new year since my last post. Those things may all be correlated.

I'm not positive who still comes around to visit here, and realize that my news may not be actual news to any of you...LOL! We can talk about it a little bit though and I will try to keep it interesting. After almost four years of fits and starts, of desperately wanting to have something done, but fighting with myself to make it happen...

...I was uploading my book onto a self-publishing website (and nearly vomiting)...

...offical sounding words like "manuscript" and "final" and boxes to check (more feelings of nauseau)...

...and it was done!

The few months leading up to that day in early November when my friend literally sat next to me, working the keybard until the final submit button she made me push myself, were speckled with doubt. I started to wonder if I would ever actually finish. I didn't know how I would know when the project was complete. Then one evening I found some motivation and sat myself down and typed out all of the things I had left to say. After all of my scratched post its had been accounted for, all of the notes had been copied off my phone and all of the thoughts scribbled in my notebook had been woven in, I took a deep breath and knew I was done with my book. There were no more nagging thoughts about including this or that. I just felt something different, like a sort of peace. 

Somewhere along the line I did realize that writing a book meant people might hopefully read the book, which did briefly make me a little anxious. I had a little book signing at a cafe my friend works at. I thought I had myself prepared with what to write in people's books, but then there were some moments where I felt like I was writing too much and other times I was pretty pleased with what I conjured.

So, yeah...that's my news! How do I feel about it all now you may be wondering? It depends on the day. I have not exactly figured out what to do with the part of my mind that spun (and spun out) on this. Maybe you're wondering why I did this to begin with? I thought I had a story that was worth sharing in hopes that someday it might find itself in the hands of a person who would feel seen, less lonely or even catch a glimmer of hope by reading it. What is the book about? (Am I really answering that question last?) It is about my life with my grandmother, from the struggles we had relating to each other when I was a child, to trying to please her as an adult, through her years wth dementia and how our relationship changed along the way.

Thank you for coming to visit, as well as for the support when I've shared stories here about my grandmother. Be nice to yourself today, have a cookie!

A Sign That I'm Really Back

Here we are on a random Tuesday for starters, but that's not it. Oh no, far from it! The lore of the creepy monkeys started here over ten years ago, perhaps you recall some of the finest moments like this, this, this and this. I admit that it was starting to feel like those simians were a thing of the past, only to be lured back out by doing a blog post search. 

But then it happened, I came around the corner at Walmart just in time to hear a woman remarking to her adult daughter about how cute a toy on the shelf was. I spun my head to see which item she was referring to, that was not even notable enough for me to photograph, then looked to the left and heard a not at all quiet voice leave my mouh saying "That monkey is creepy though!" I assured her that her assessment of cuteness was not incorrect and that I was taking issue with the neighboring box's resident.

Fur Real, Peanut, keep your 100+ reactions to yourself! Come on, look at that illustration of Peanut rising to a standing position! No thank you Adorable. And what do we think is emanating from Peanut's armpit while walking? Or is that a reaction coming from their mouth? You aren't looking directly into those eyes are you?

I'd like to think Peanut is a size I could put up a fair fight against, I mean have you watched Chimp Crazy?  Just to be safe though, I wish there was a slightly smaller monkey for us.

Noooooo, not a whole darn jungle in my pocket!

Mac and Puck keeping those creepy monkey dreams (and nightmares) alive! Curse this generation of blind bag toys though, as I could not risk the disappointment of bringing home Chatty.

Behave yourselves as not only is Santa watching, but so are the creepy monkeys!!

And wow, did I know it!

I fancied myself a bit of a poet from my preteen years until my early twenties. (I believe we've gone over this a few times before, like here and here for starters.) The mid to late eighties material sits safely in the pages of my flannel fabric covered book. 

The early eighties stuff though? That stuff was deemed too risky by an angsty teenager to have laying around where it could someday be found. I threw that fanciful floral covered book in the garbage. Gasp! I know there was a poem I wrote for my sister when she was a baby, and I am sure it was fantastic (insert sarcasm font), but I do not recall any other muses I had back then. Rest assured though, I am certain the quality of all of the poems was horrendous. I'm not even going to try to make myself feel better by making considerations for my young age or ambition. Instead, I was just grateful nobody would ever have to consider the material again! Unfortunately, that young girl had no sense of what joy that fodder could provide for me decades later. But then...

There I was one afternoon, doing whatever it is I typically do to avoid housework, when a Facebook messenger alert sounded. Knowing instantly that it had to be something important, I ran to my phone. A message came asking if I was the Andrea that went to Stonehedge Elementary school, because if so, the sender was a really good friend of mine in sixth grade. Indeed, that was me. She said she had something to show me that she had just found...

I am going to save you the trouble of trying to decipher my, albeit awesome, cursive writing. (Moment of silence for that dying art.) Here is what it says...

Amy's Poem

Amy's ways will be missed by everyone

You helped many soccer games be won

Science class will turn rotten overnight

Because without Amy, nothing seems right

There will still be Margaret, Heidi, Kelly and everyone

But nobody else is full of laughs and fun

This poem is very true

When Amy leaves we'll all be blue

I hope I see her agaiin

Becuse she's a really terrific friend.

To Amy,

You're one of the best friends I've got

Keep this poem and I'll appreciate it a lot!

P.S. Thanks for keeping me laughing. I'll still think of you even if you don't keep this long. Just don't immediately throw it out, alright?

First things first, I should probably issue a public apology to Margaret, Heidi and Kelly. A girl's gotta rhyme though, am I right? Besides, it's not like they saw this work of art, as I surely slipped the paper to Amy privately. Oh wait, another message from Amy came through to tell me that her notes indicated that I read this poem over the loudspeaker on her last day at our school before moving. Who on earth did I think I was? Did I use up a lifetime of confidence on that morning? I was fairly certain she was mistaken, but did not say so because she had such documentation. As I sit here now though, months later, I do have some recollection of walking down the hall and also being near the microphone.

By the way, I can't even be mad about the condition of the loose leaf paper, nor question that stain on it. It is from 44 years ago!

I hope this story amuses you even half as much as it does me. I know there is someone who might still read this blog who has one of my masterpieces in her high school yearbook! (Hi Greta!) Perhaps some of you would like me to write an ode to you? I can take requests and promise the same level of craftsmanship. 

Gratitude

Remember how November was Gratitude month? I guess that means it was last month when I created a totally unique title for this post, loaded up the photos and then got distracted by something shiny. That doesn't really explain where I was for the five months prior though. I'm going to leave the title because my brain might melt under the pressure of trying to conjure a new one, and I am generally filled with gratitude this month as well. 

I spent a lot of time wishing I had written a blog post, as if I had no control over this space and what happens here! It was much like sitting on the couch wishing there were homemade chocolate chip cookies on the counter (which I often do, as you probably guessed), while pretending I have no free will to enter the kitchen to cream some butter and sugar together. The important thing is that we're here now, so let's see what I thought was important to share...

Dr. Daughter! She did it - she's a physical therapist now!

We were so proud!

SO PROUD!

Then she packed up and shuffled off to a job in Buffalo!

Seemed like the right time to give her a brand new, not yet loved, Lambie. (I'm not crying, you're crying!)

Still seems worth mentioning.

Not quite as inviting.

They are probably not a threat right now under the snow.

Oh dear, not going to think about what happened to that little friend.

There was a hotel that could not care for its artificial plants.

There were fond memories of that time, over ten years ago, when my friend Mary dumped a double batch of chex mix on the kitchen floor. She celebrated by dumping another roasting pan full.

Apparently my four year old nephew and I share a need for the same sort of self help books.

This is my snail. I spend a lot of time looking at them. When I go near the tank to drop in a food disc, they fling themselves off the glass and gently fall down to the gravel.

Sometimes the specials are so special, you can't say what they are.

My own sad little island.

And I went on a journey taking a bunch of photos that I thought were cool. Charlotte!

I do love a Gerber daisy.

And a rose...

...is a rose!

So those are just some odds and ends. I have another big thing to share, but am going to wait. Mainly, I don't want to compete with the nearly seven month overdue graduation photos that were promised in my last post. Also, if I share the other news now, I'm afraid I won't find the ambition to come back soon! Thank you for being here! Be nice to yourself today!

What would it take…

...to bring me back? Well, I really thought it was going to be the elementary school friend who reached out to me on facebook to share a poem I wrote her in sixth grade (don't worry, the critical elements of that tale are saved in drafts). The day I mailed the last tuition payment for daughter...

...and even took the photo to show you? She's graduating next Friday with her doctorate in physical therapy! (I'll save a proper amount of gushing fr when it's official with photos.) Or another failed shopping trip...

...that certainly made me long for needing to wear this?

But alas, I could not just...

...nor could I kiss it goodbye.

(Are you okay with me telling you that somebody left these for a grieving family at work this past weekend? You shouldn't be! The color? The shape? The horror!)

I thought it might have been the post-it note I left on the desk in the kitchen where it could float into my line of sight as a gentle reminder...

...at the time I was either very amused or rather distressed that I had just caught myself mid-pep talk realizing I was not making sense, as ships don't have wheels. I do not even know which phrase I failed to turn there. I do recall feeling that the shit was indeed far too scattered to collect, but cannot say for sure which show in particular it had escaped from. Did I file my nails instead? Probably not as that task constantly eludes me.

I've been here through ups, downs, randomness, abc shenanigans, capes and mannequins. So what did it take to bring me back to this space after four months? This...

...this right here from my dumb daily mental health walk. Theories? Wrong answers only, please!

No place like this home

As it often happens when there are long between times in my visits here, I had a little story to share, but realized it would be a tough stand alone plucked out of a context you may not all be privy to. Then I thought about all of the times I fully intended to provide the backdrop, even going so far as to jot some notes in my phone. (And here we thought my phone was strictly a storage component for fascinating photographic evidence of the oddities I see out in the world.) So here's the scoop, this is where I work now...

...Truth be told, I don't actually work in this specific space. This is called the "showroom", and quite frankly, in the over eighteen months I have been working at the funeral home, I still can't get past that terminology and something about the new car vibes it evokes. Anyhow, I am a funeral assistant/greeter/water getter/mint refiller/tissue hander outer (the list goes on). I really and truly love the job. It is sort of amusing when I reflect back on registering for classes as a junior in college and nearly broke out in a rash at the mere thought of possibly having to sign up for a psych elective on grief and dying in the event that I was shut out of anything else that would fit my schedule. Decades go by and life changes us on some levels I guess.

How did I end up finding this opportunity you may wonder, as the path from working at a nursery school to a nursing home to a funeral home may not be an often traveled one? I'll try to give the short version of that story...When I went to help plan Jeff's arrangements after he passed, the funeral director was a friend from high school I hadn't seen since graduation. We caught up a little bit and eventually talked about the possibiity of me being able to join the staff as a greeter. There were some fits and starts in making progress toward that end, and then the pandemic hit. I'd given up hope on getting the opportunity, but when I called the funeral home to let them know Marlene's time was nearing, my friend told me they were actully ready to hire. I guess that explains the bare bones logistics of how this came to be. In terms of what made me think I was mentally prepared to try this? I knew I was not eager to watch someone slip away again; however, perhaps there was a place for me in the aftermath where I could help pick up at least some small piece.

I signed some paperwork and crossed my fingers that I would be able to ease into things. In my head that meant that hopefully the first several services I'd work would be for folks who had led long and wonderful lives. Make no mistake, I was not in denial about the inevitable sadness, but thought maybe there was a hierarchy of sorts to work through. I quickly saw the role as finding some small way to make the worst of days for someone just a bit less awful, or at least not worse. There were some learning curves of course. The first of which was being comfortable only having water or mints to offer. I wanted to bake and comfort these people with warm chocolate chips! I could not fix the sadness, but could try to ease some of the discomfort. A lot of people are simply uncomfortable walking into a funeral home, and a smile and general directions for where to go help ease some of those nerves. I am extremely lucky to work with funeral directors who are amazing at what they do, and set the bar high for the level of service we provide.

As far as keeping myself together? Here is what I now know about my relationship with the families we serve and a message I hope to convery to them somehow...

• If you are going to bring bagpipes, I am going to cry.
• If you are going to have uniformed firefighters doing a "last call", I am going to cry.
• Several other scenarios will also bring me to tears, not because I am thinking about my own losses in this life, but because I have been given the honor to peek into the window of your loved one's life and am truly saddened and sorry for your loss.
• I will stand with you in your grief or I will stand nearby and hold a box of tissues. 
• If you need to ask for a minute, do so, If you want to share a story, do so. If you want to laugh, do so.
• This is your time and your grief. I can be there to partake in it, or simply be a witness to it, or can leave the room for you to experience it privately.

None of this has caused me to step outside my comfort zone (granted I have questioned lately whether I actually have an true comfort zone). No, that didn't happen until I had/got to drive the hearse.

Hey friend!

Happy New Year! I hope you are well! I'm feeling a little awkward and shy just showing up back here after so long. The more time that went by, the more exciting, or at the very least interesting, I thought my return had to be. It is certainly not out of the ordinary for me to put unnecessary pressure on myself, but that doesn't mean it makes sense.

In lieu of the daunting task of making resolutions that I stand to crumple under the weight of, maybe this is the year I will just relax! With that spirit in mind, I decided I could treat this foray back into this space with the easy breeziness of seeing an old friend. (Yeah, I admit that there have been many times I have indeed stressed over seeing an old friend.) Maybe this can just be like when you see an old chum and the banter just starts while the time simply falls away. Let's start right in and try it with some things I've been saving on my phone to share with you.

No one was physically harmed in this off season trip into the changing room...

...but morale was low upon exiting as all items were surrendered to the attendant. These didn't even get taken off the rack...

...as those seem like a series of words that do not get better when strung together. In other puzzling items up for sale, we have these ladies...

...who are putting their best feet forward!? Let's keep shopping!

Why the name?

Why? Here's something I had not previously considered...

...hm! I guess I ought to learn how to put makeup on...

...and look for a bra to fit this perfume?

Again, why?

I sure will! Although that almost looks like fun! This on the other hand...

...is certainly beyond any hairstyle I've attempted. I don't know why, but that contraption is giving me gyn office vibes. And now a trip to the little girls' room in Canada...

...where their lady symbol seems very fit and their other restroom offerings...

...are maybe a little too on the nose!

Gotta hand it to Ottawa, Canada though, for having among other fabulous things, an incredbile Bills bar to watch a game at...

...and of course, some very necessary groceries... 

...(excuse the regular old barbecue chips that I erroneously grabbed instead of the ketchup ones!)

In other news, we got my husband one of those video bird feeders.

He (my huband that is) is doing well, aside from batting his most frequent visitor.

Let's get together again soon, shall we?!