Keeping On....

For whatever reason it seemed the right time to reconstruct the quarter collection.

Since 1999, I had been filling in the red white and blue folders with a place for each state's quarter-- both front and back--as a kind of historical travelogue. Feeling a little confined and committed to making my dreams come true and fulfilling my call, they represented opportunity in the future to me.

Then the day came in 2012 when, desperate for any money I could find, I took out all 96 quarters--both front and back-- and used them , for gas I think.

Empty for years, today I pulled them out of my top desk drawer and carefully emptied the zippered coin section of my wallet checking for the right quarters, the commemorative quarters. There were four: Nebraska, Rhode Island, Missouri and New York. It was a wonderful start.

In a few minutes I'm going to start working on my holiday column. The topic is "Greed".

I have had to learn to be a stander-up-er in the last two decades. I have had to learn to not fear it, standing up for myself. It still doesn't feel comfortable to me.

Yet, if I am to be honest about a world where there are people so empty  inside they would do anything to keep their world in deceptive order, then I must learn to stand up for doing those things that add good to the world from the inside out.

For several years now, I have believed that life is just about one piece after another slipping away because I was not able to stand up and on the things that would steal my life.

I found that I could make the changes necessary to be stronger in confronting "eeldoer's" as 'Nell' called them in the movie of the same name. I CAN stand up and still maintain that core part of myself that plants hope for the future by collecting quarters.

I am a gentle person in a dog eat dog world. Primitive, still, in confronting and setting limits, life has taught me there is much to be said for focusing on my little hobbies that keep me grounded and nurturing.

If someone has touched your life in a positive way, be sure and share that with them. I think most everyone is just keeping the riverbanks loaded with sandbags and a little bit of good that would lower the floodwaters of narcissism with which most people have to deal, is a great idea.

Ninety two quarters to go. Keeping on....
Love,
Deborah

And life is still life....

This past week I had my eye treatment which always takes me out of play for a few days. I developed a vascular edema and they treat it by shooting a tiny amount of this drug that actually was created for use with colon cancer but they found collateral uses, one of which is shrinking retinal edemas. After only two doses, the thing has reduced itself so now they stretch it out to six weeks instead of four weeks and see if it will stay reduced even though it isn't getting any medicine. Hope springs....

After each shot in my eyeball, I have fallen into an overly cautious routine of sequestering myself because, a. I feel like crap and my eye hurts, and b. it makes me more aware of my hands so I don't rub the eyeball or keep my hands dirty through careless inattention.

I had an opportunity to housesit and took it.

I truly wonder what it would be like to have had one home and the same routines all these years of my adult life. It is amazing to me that I am in my early sixties, have never had my own home and have moved so many times I've lost count.

I said to myself during this time of isolation --which also becomes a time of introspection between naps--
"What if I never have a home? What if I live like this for the rest of my life?" And I found myself oddly OK with that. The domestic and work routine I have is probably better than about 80% of the third world. My sense of self is entirely internally defined. I'm not hurting any of my kids by having the bits and pieces of life ascribed to different geographical settings.

Is it my first choice? How I'm living now I mean... Heck no. I want what everyone else has. Is it the worst a person could experience? No.

So, with my faith intact, I will suck it up and continue to be disciplined about a path that, I do believe, will lead to more domestic stability and put my life all in one place.

What it does that is good is keep me in touch with just today and no further ahead, or behind. Because of that I feel less constrained to have plans that may or may not be necessary. That is always a good thing.

Life consists of work, eating which involves food preparation and clean  up, staying in touch with friends, enjoying social activites, hygiene and recreational reading, and sleeping, laundry and errands, TV shows and films. That's about as normal as transitory gets. Life, is still life....

A regular life with better menu choices

Knowing what I'm doing is unique to middle class and upper middle class society, it is not unique to immigrants and entrepreneurs starting at ground level. You do what you have to do to get your product out there, to get the business started.

Now, my product is words. The part that has made the journey unique is going from essentially being a nun, which meant some weird kind of unspoken vow of poverty, to a businesswoman.

Fortunately, there is a class that started at one of the two churches I align myself with in a regular way. It is a study of the book, "Money and the Meaning of Life". It explores the spirituality of money.

As I mentioned before, the hardest part of my journey has been to figure out the place of money in my life. I know how to manage money, I didn't know about the grass roots character of it in confluence with how I , particularly, was raised and my family heritage and my calling and my dreams.

To me, you just got your education, got a job and managed your money well. But I came from an incredibly white upper middle class dysfunctional heritage and that is not a straightforward route if you want to be healthy and whole at your core. Layer in any kind of spiritual aspect and look in the dictionary under "confusion" and there is the path.

So, I had to revert to the life stories of my grandfathers and there was where the key lay. My foundation was/is my own spiritual walk but beyond that, and built on top of that, was this question of how do I reconstruct my life when plan A gets blocked by people who are less interested in whole and healthy than I am.

It is almost a month since I started The Grand Adventure. I am, everyday finding that this most radical way of life has, in fact, given me more stability and forward motion and strength and promise than any of the many domestic situations in which I have lived in the last twenty years.

My car has become Murphy bed and closet. That's all. It still functions as a car. Yesterday I got the big tubs given to me as part of the move a year and a half ago out of , what I came to call, 'the crazy house', and simply have the three laundry baskets that act as dresser drawers/closet. Today is sunny and so later this afternoon, I will organize the back even more into functional areas.

The only 'problem' has been trash. I don't have trash delivery and need to off load trash more than often than once a month in a dump run. Costly and impractical.

And I am still trying to find a home for the cats.

But my choices during the day consist of those at my desk and office area. Will I work on Website Stuff? Parenting Stuff? Theology Stuff? Memoir Stuff? Good menu items. Forward moving menu choices. Finally. Daily. In a way that builds. What I have longed for since a decade ago when I first felt called to this work. Cleansing breath. Deep sigh of relief. Carry on.

Cooking and shopping

Using a communal kitchen has been teaching me all kinds of lovely new disciplines and totally clearing my system of the "years and years I cooked for six people and never quite go over it" syndrome.

First of all, I miss having a big family. They were some of my happiest days. I even loved the challenges. So in the ensuing years as the kids ( and husband) have peeled off, I have kept the tradition of cooking ahead big meals and eating off them.

Suddenly finding myself with minimal refrigerator space and even smaller shelf space, I have had to rethink everything. Oddly enough it has generated better eating. I pay attention to each meal with more consciousness. What I'm eating is space related.

So, making sure I have more veggies and fruits than other carbs becomes easier. Variety is more rotatable --to create a new word.

And because others are involved in the kitchen, I have had to be very aware of when I'm cooking big and when I'm not so as not to add to the burden of other people as they speed about the details of their lives and also prepare their food.

Learning how to cook with others rhythms and still feel like I have a routine has been a work in progress, but this week I think I have it. I'll have to 'cook down' a bit with my inventory this week, but I think I'm getting the equation of how much to buy/how much to eat in proportion.

It all reminds me of when I was seventeen and keeping a household with family in England. The daily shopping trip was just part of the rigors of having a postage size fridge and a hungry family consisting of grown man, myself and elementary age children.

So this week, I stood in front of the deli counter and calculated that while $7.00 seemed extreme for a gigantic hoagie, it was in fact the cheaper way to go than buying all the individual ingredients, condiments and bread and storing them awkwardly in the kitchen. I also reminded myself that eating off it for four days would not be unpleasant. Done and done. check. lunch.

This morning I really wanted my lazy Saturday big breakfast and realized with fewer people working on Saturday, it probably would be an OK time to fix French toast with a side of vanilla yogurt and thawed frozen blueberries. Ta Da! One relaxing brunch before the daily type fest, all consumed while listening to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me".

Thoughts drifting to the future, I realized when I get a forever home, I DO want to have a breakfast bar. I like eating at the one in the kitchen in which I now cook.

So with some leftover ground turkey still to cook, a fully cooked half breast ,onion, bag o' baby carrots, already cooked noodles from pasta with Parmesan last night, I see the makings of stroganoff and some turkey noodle soup for early in the week.

It will be interesting to see what vestiges of these habits I take into my forever home, whenever that happens. For now, I have the luxury of thinking only about the words that have been inside of me longing to find their way to print. It's a life I currently love!

Communal Working/Living

One of the great energizing factors of The Grand Adventure has been moving into a space where there are multiple people. For most of you, I suspect, a moment or place with more isolation would be a joy. But I have spent much of the last decade alone on a daily basis. I work in people's homes caring for their children and streamlining and supporting their situations.

Here, for the first time in ages, people pass in casual contact. Getting lost in my thoughts, focusing on my work and getting things done all become more plausible because of the internal push against the limits of those casual contacts.

Yet, I am grateful for the thousands of hours I have spent alone in previous days. It gave me a chance to truly experience myself as a separate entity in the world. As the third of four children, married at 21 the day before graduation from college and mother of four, 'alone' was not anything I thought I would ever experience for any extended time period.

Now, with the functions of my life separated into work, personal life, possessions and travel, I carry a consistency of self throughout the days that used to be a bit transitory depending on how I was reacting to my environment. I am, in fact, living life from the inside out.

Iron does indeed sharpen iron and I find, for all that I have been through, I am stronger for it and clearer about who I am for it.

That means one very good thing. I project much less of my own unconscious baggage on the world. The alone time has meant I have become very much more aware, more conscious. The benefit continues as I reconnect with people ten fold in the hours of my days. I am truly able to see them as they are rather than through too drastic a filter. I can see the unhappy ones, the peaceful ones, the satisfied and the discontent as well as those who are presently unconscious for who they are and have a stronger encounter for it.

At night, when I am alone, truly alone in the car with the world only inches, not a hallway or a staircase, from my life and my experience, I can savour the 'me' of life resting, truly resting to absorb today and prepare for tomorrow.

I like it.

They call it 'anointed'

OK... so bear with me. Hear gentle but firm in my voice. I am NOT homeless. I sleep in my car sometimes. I pay no money for sleeping. Except when I rent a hotel room after my eye treatments.

This thing has started so I want to clarify.

After five lousy money sucking rentals with rotten landlords who wasted much of my money in seven years in a row, keeping me from getting my writing projects completed and to the market place, I made the adventurous decision to split apart the pieces of my life. I rented an office that a comes with so many amenities both physical and social that I told one co-worker today it feels decadent.

My things, which I don't want to pay attention to right now because it would distract me are in two storage units, one for furniture and one with boxes of possiessions.

That is not homeless. That is organized to accomplish a certain goal.

I am too old to get a regular job. I have been blackballed in the church for over twenty years and so all my training and education is only useful in helping me write. I have been working as a family care specialist and I'm getting too old for that.

I have interesting projects I am working on which will make the world a better place. I have wonderful volunteer commitments that enrich my life.

The only sad part has been about the cats and I will write about that another time.

So.............please do not look at me with sad eyes and ask how I am. I will startle you and tell you, "I am having the time of my life and it's getting better every day.!!"

Many thanks to my daughter Caity who is supportive of my adventure in that she doesn't get on my case about it or criticize it as a bad plan.

And how do I know I am making the right choice? Because everything having to do with writing and getting things to market is on green light fast forward. Case in point. Today for the first time I  needed to have the printer connection that hadn't been hooked up yet. No sooner do I say to myself, "Shoot, I wish I could print this out" than around the corner comes the tech guy who one of the co workers had seen out in the parking lot. Twenty minutes later, I'm printing stuff. It's like that all the time.

Am I angry that I have been subjected to what I've been through for the last twenty years? Absolutely. Am I bitter.No, just pissed. So I move on from it immediately? Always. Hence, The Grand Adventure.

Today was a typical writing day. I came to the office after morning liturgy and fixed a nice breakfast and watched a little TV. Then I went through two of the totes to start to sort out two different projects. A co worker asked if I wanted coffee. She had figured out the machine. We chatted for about forty five minutes about writing goals and our processes. I went back to work.   The tech guy came. I called Pet Protectors about the cats. Went back to work, wrote some more. Then I fixed dinner and watched the national news. Looked at facebook, and now am closing down for the day. My biggest problem right now is figuring out how to wudge the keyboard so I can lean back in my incredibly comfotable office chair.

The gold anniversary clock on my bookshelf says bedtime is nigh. I'm thinking actually I will not clean off my desk tonight because I will be back right after my morning shift.

When I sleep, I will nestle down in very comfortable and cozy fleece blankets, watch an episode of 'Blue Bloods that my aunt and uncle got me hooked on and snooze away in quiet and peace until the alarm goes off.

Hopefully this next month I can start to offer my classes and increase my income. The goal is to get income increased now that I have reduced expenses. $210 in new tires last Wednesday and over $400 in pet expenses before I'm done, will set me back a bit. But...I am undeterred.

So when you see me, or if you want to make a comment here, please...look at me with Joy and say, "Wow! We are so proud of you for having the guts to do this!! Can't wait til the books are out!! You go girl." 

The New Normal

Finding the perfect place to sleep last night had rich rewards. I slept for seven solid hours and then moving to my morning location after refreshing and renewing myself, promptly traded doing my morning devotional for two more hours of sleep.

Making it through the transition is not any different from making it through any other transition. It is exhausting.

Today, as I made my way to the office, experiencing two extraordinary kindnesses which involved casting a concern about tomorrow aside and enjoying a lovely hot cup of coffee with a day old almond croissant, I drew life in deep within me.

On the docket was reading "The Grapes of Wrath" for Book Club tonight.

I had forgotten how Steinbeck shaped me early on in my life and how I aspire to his writing.

In the back of my mind and heart, at all times are the cats. Getting them through the transition is my next 'to do'.

And then comes joining the Athletic Club.

But I noticed there are two sturdy railings on the steps up to my office. So I have, already, been able to strengthen my back for climbing.

Life has a lovely new normal rhythm. With the exception of my sleeping arrangements, I am like anyone else in the middle class world.

Best of all is being free of people who mismanage their lives. They are free to do so. I do not judge. But I now longer want my life shaped or influenced or controlled by them, as near as I am able.

Now, I am extremely tired. So..TTFN said Tigger.

Waiting for Sunrise and an Egg Sandwich

OK... The final pieces are in place. One brings great peace and one brings great sorrow.

The sorrow piece is the cats. I had, from the first, felt they were supposed to go to foster care through our Island Pet Protectors. In a long circuitous route, in a story too long to tell here, they ended up in the system to do just that.  The pre testing for entry revealed that Tasha has Feline Imuno Virus.  Boris does not. A year ago they were both clean.

Not wanting Boris to have any chance of it, I am splitting this brother sister team up. Caity, unable to take him herself, has found a potential home for him. I am left with the reality that all the quirky and mysterious little changes in Tasha have been the progrssion of the disease.

All of this means that the lovely last day before packing and moving out when we all sat together and snuggled, was our last beautiful day together. I'm glad I didn't know that then. It was hard enough thinking of them being away from me. They have been colourful and wonderful companions for thirteen years. OK. That's all I want to talk about that now.

The joyful part of the week happened last night. There is an incredibly safe place for me to legally park meeting all the needs I have for rest that I was unsure about using. Last night I dared to proceed. I slept seven wonderful hours in a row. Having refreshed and cleaned myself for the day, I've parked by the water's edge to wait for, if it weren'r raining, sunrise. My tasks today are simple. Finish reading "Grapes of Wrath" and make my potluck contribution for Book Club tonight, caught up on several blog entries for the week, and get my column for The Loop. Now? I will stare into the water and just "be" for a bit and wait for the coffee shop to open up where I have a gift card so I can purchase a hot cup of coffee and an egg sandwich. Be at peace. It's a lovely way to live.

|Lovin' the office!

Today was what I have dreamed about and knew I could make happen and was the best in life for me if I could but find some agreement in the world.

Good work, good study, good fellowship, beautiful pleasant surroundings, me having a chance to be and do my best. The promise of taking my words to market and in doing so helping others.

Enough hours, enough energy, AND, have discovered that the stairs leading to my office space have dual handrails so I can practice doing step over step with my legs and feet instead of one-stepping it with the cane. I decided it's my version of the stairmaster and five minutes supposedly burns off 76 calories.

Accomplishing what I can in the present and have started working on the next set of goals.

AND I got my taxes roughed in enough to send hard copy on Wednesday. My poorest year ever is behind me I think. I will, as my devotional said this morning, not only survive but I will thrive!!

Big smile on the old visage tonight. Persistence. Persistence. Persistence!!!:)

Palliative Care

I found this on the internet: "Palliative care is an approach that improves the quality of life of patients and their families facing the problem associated with life-thretening illness, theough the prevention and relief of suffering by means of early identiviation and impeccable assessment and treatment of pain and other problems, physical, psychosocial and spiritual. Palliative care:
-provides relief from pain and other distressing symptoms
-affirms life and regards dying as a normal process
-intends neither to hasten or potpone death
-integrates the psychological and spiritual aspects of patient care
-offers a support system to help patients live as actively as possible until death...

ah shoot...it goes on forever. But what if it isn't death, like final death? What if it's death of one's illusions or a season in life transitioning to another?

This past weekend I checked myself into a motel for palliative care after my eye treatment. Since I get the injection into the eyeball, I'm choosing to be obsessive about rest, hygiene and stress for forty eight hours after the shot. It was a two star and they put me in the mobility impaired room.

Lots of sleep, lots of protein, lots of chocolate, cable TV of the bubble gum variety, no reading, limited phone screen watching. I went out once for a meal and took advantage of both complimentary breakfast mornings.

It improved the quality of my life, affirmed life, nurtured me physically, psychosocially, and spiritually. I effected relief from the pain and consequences of the injection and its site, it was a time of limbo, it integrated various aspects of my life. I lived as actively as I could while trying to heal and restore myself.

I thought a lot about the difference between having a home right now and parcing out the pieces of my life so no one could take away my ability to make progress with my writing.

It left me more needy financially than I wanted but I'll deal with that this week. In ten more days, the financial effects of having downsized will begin to kick in. Moving costs will be done with.

I thought a lot about my insitance on going it alone and at the same time wishing someone, anyone had stepped in on my behalf big time and stopped what was going on. I wished someone had held my husband accountable to his duties and responsibitlities and any number of people who had gotten caught doing something wrong.

BUT eventually I landed on pondering how I've grown, and clarified my life and how my faith has been so strengthened. I thought about the example I set for my daughter Caity and for myself.

The injection site is still red but it doesn't hurt as much and the eye isn't itchy or scratchy. I left, loaded everything back into the car myself and got to St Mark's in time for eucharist. I thought I was going to take the writing class, but the emails from the instructor were too intense. I responded that I needed something more gentle in my life right now.

The people I met in the lobby eating breakfast and working their shifts stayed with me. Some were clearly enjoying their lives, some were clearly stuck.

I am firmly convinced I am not stuck, I am transitioning. Back here at the office, I just wrote to Caity I feel empowered and creative. The world has not passed me by yet and I have a real concrete list to work on and accomplishing those items will move me forward.

I miss my kitties and certainly sleeping in my car is not my first choice, but I am empowered by my own actions of doing what needs to be done to move forward. I am, I said to a friend who wrote about my 'unusual journey' running an end game around evil.

So onward. Someday I will be moving into a house and looking back at this foundational time and feeling relief it is over, was worth it and that I was strong enough , by God's Grace, to do it.

This week I housesit for a couple of days. I think the new rhythm has begun. It's gonna be okay. I'm gonna be okay. I AM okay. That still comes as somewhat of a shock to me :)

Ye Olde Sleep Mask

For a year I have told myself how silly it is I keep the sleep mask that goes with my travel pillow; elastic stretched out and seemingly useless.

Tossing it in my book tote seemed odd. Until tonight! A reminder God will provide every resource for The Grand Adventure:)! Zzz z z.zzzzzzz

If wishes were horses...

It sounds incredibly noble and strong to be doing what I'm doing to make the best use of my money to build more income and buy a forever house.

But the practical truth is, the world values me having walls around my sleeping quarters more than thrift. And tonight I'm kinda with the world. I have a doctors appointment in Seattle later this morning(it's now past midnight) and sleeping arrangements in Seattle are a challenge. I've found a safe parking lot by an all night restaurant. The reason it's safe is because it's bathed in light of a non natural nature.

So how do I keep myself positive about my goal? I think on how beautiful and cozy my office space is and how someday I'm going to have a whole house like that and focus on remembering what the next business item is I have to attend to when I return to the office.

Mycar insurance person told me there some danger of not being reinstated at the next re enrollment period if I don't keep the car in a secure place within my mailing zip code. She told me about a nice two star hotel for forty two dollars in my area. So I called. It's almost the weekend so it's $89 tonight and higher tomorrow.

Do I wish I was sleeping in a bedroom? Of course I do. Then I remeber how much more stressful it was living in houses where the landlords were living on the financial edge and/or hadn't kept the place well maintained. I realize how much more secure and solid my life feels right now. I only have one teeny tiny part of my life that is being polluted by someone's projected drama and that is immeasurably reduced. So I must disregard the bright lights in the parking lot, be thankful there is a bathroom for use in a couple of hours and rejoice that when I go in to use it I will had them my ceramic travel mug and tell them to fill it with hot chocolate. I am picturing myself with a fully fun tioning business and signing the papers on my house. I endure, and I persevere.

Daily Life

You may be wondering how this lifestyle works. How can I have the functions of my life parced out so that I do different things in different places?

An average day, now that the move is fading into history starts with me waking, getting ready for the day with resources I have in the car , going to my early work shift. I then have found a lovely place where I can stare at the water and do my daily devotional. I take another nap which is more of finishing the night's sleep. It's a pattern I've had since working a split shift when Caity was younger.

And now... I go to my office or to my overtown client.

Think about what you do. Most of it is not space specific.

My office space has become the homeist part of my day. There I have knick knacks, pictures of the kids and my life, houseplants, my books, artifacts and my business accouterments. The place where I rent my space has a full kitchen so I cook or fix my meals as if I was at home. Probably I'm actually a little healthier because I'm more conscious of what I'm doing. I have snacks at my desk like nuts and chocolate and corn chips. I did buy three new kinds of mugs and drinking glasses to add a bit of luxury to my life. I have a fancy water bottle that unscrews two ways so I can add ice or some other solid ( ice cream? haven't done a float yet). I also got a plastic tumbler with it's own rubber jacket and permanent straw for leisurely sipping. And I have my beloved Liz Lewis mug in the pattern she no longer makes that I love.

In my lower drawer I have the espresso machine I picked out for my fortieth birthday. It makes one cup at a time and exactly fills the Liz Lewis mug.

My desk is really really roomy, much larger than any workspace I've ever had. As some of you know, this last year I scored a workhorse of an old computer and previously bought a nice modern monitor at a garage sale so I not only work in comfort, but also can take a Netflix or movie break.

My pictures include one I was given years ago of a winter view from Camp Burton. It happens to be the view I was looking at the first time I physically felt God's Love for me.( For more faith insights, be sure to follow www.socialcontemplative.blogspot.com)

During the day I can chat with other workers in the building. There is a TV hooked up to cable, but I don't like commercials so unless there is a national emergency, I doubt I'll watch it. Although it is nice to know I don't have to miss the Emmy's or the Tony's anymore.

So see. It's not much different. I miss the kitties, but each piece falls into place in it's own time, so I'm assuming God is lining up a place where we can at least visit each other.

Because I don't have kids at home or a husband, I'm pretty free to have the different parts of my life in different places. It works. For now, it works well.

Any questions?

Moving On and Settling In

Are moves ever NOT dramatic? Help came after a tearful night of deep grief at having to move once more. The landlord circled at the eleventh hour. His wife took pictures of us loading things into my van. When people know they are in the wrong, they always get self righteous. Let the dead bury the dead. Shake the dust off your sandals. All of it, true.

Friends say the kitties can come after all. Dinner with same friends and then off to the store for Cat food, "Hazed and Confused" and something else I can't remember.  Back to bed down the kitties and then bed down me. The family hosting me is excited. My ice cream is melting and I am exhausted but their care, bringing me vitamins(Bcomplex for stress and cq10) and a funny animal pillow is sweet and well intended. At last I am alone. A bit of "Say, Yes to the Dress", some melty dairy confection and dreamland.

The middle of the night necessity which has plagued me by anticipation? Let's just say being a Girl Scout and camping a lot with my family paid off. No big deal.

Thursday, into Seattle after the morning shift, I start off loading stuff; boxes to a friend that is moving, stuff belonging and/or gifted to Caity, Isaac, Slavica and Pajo.

Slowly the level in the way back of the car recedes. A friend mentions an empty apartment and suddenly, at the end of my work shift I find myself with a four day holiday in Seattle. An extra work day on Friday, then off to the Kiev Choir reunion dinner, Saturday a women's meeting (PWF Moms) and then some time with Caity, an errand running her and Katherine to a wedding with me enjoying a double feature at the $4 movies: "A Most Wanted Man" and "The Trip to Italy".

A kind of slumber with upstairs neighbors heavy footed until 3:30AM.

Sunday- St Mark's and the blessing of the animals, Caity to work, and back to the apartment for packing, St Ben's for 7PM mass, UPC and Compline streaming the radio. Going home. Parked in a place that ought to have felt safe but felt creepy. Still- ok sleep.

Have discovered various fast food healthy selections like Wendy's spicy Asian chicken cashew salad and now am unpacking in the office. Sunniest corner ever. Off to a new start. Too many days without blogging. Too much itinerary, not enough feelings and discoveries. Just so excited the past, and the ministry is behind me. On to better, faith intact!

My Own Pennies

Getting the email that revealed I was not earning as much from one particular client as I thought I was going to earn in the next two months was disheartening, at first. Then I had this bright independent thought. Next Monday, after my morning shift, I will go to my office and start marketing new classes, new services and helpful words. When I get paid for those, all of my pennies will be going to my own financial needs and goals.

It's a myth that renting is this great service. Rare is the landlord that actually wants to keep their property up for someone else. You are there to pay their mortgage. You are their free meal ticket. In the end, you live with insecure housing that is kept at it's lowest level of maintenance.

So yes, this month the jars of peanut butter and cans of tuna I eat will seem sparse. But the pennies I earn will be going towards MY financial solvency. Anything I spend will be going towards moving me forward, not some landlord that spends their days not working or trying to put as little as possible into their house, or a property manager that could care less and is just looking to collect their ten percent. That energy flowing towards me and my circumstances will far outweigh the ability to stretch out in a bed. At least, that's what I think right now.:)

The end of the first day

A little bit of panic, no - just concern- crept it as I worked by myself. People have moved me too many times to want to do it again. A friend is coming tomorrow for an hour and a half to help me pack up the kitchen and that will be big help.

Then halfway through the day a Father/son duo showed up and took my bureau I was bequeathed by Doris ages ago and they also wanted the skinny dvd/cd shelves and then on the way out the son asked if he could have my old computer. "The hard drive has been removed I told him". "That's ok", he responded."i just like to ( what di he say? Tinker? Mess with? Explore?). Anyway...he took it. The Father turned to me and hollered up, having slammed the tailgate shut. "Feel lighter?".  The big smile  on my face said it all, but I hollered out "Yes!".

My other concern has been being cautious with my back. It is frustrating to pack one single box and then have to rest for up to an hour and a half. But slowly and surely it's all getting done.
I put thoughts of the deadline for exiting the house out of my brain. Instead I do the math and evaluate each category to be packed in terms of packing and recovery minutes.

The rediculous washing machine that has been the source of all the trouble is is spinning one of the last loads. I will not miss wearing half dry clothes, make that half wet. I know. I need to explain what I mean about the washer/dryer. Next time. Now, some sleep.

The first entry of The Grand Plan...

Since I just publicly declared to blog my journey to homeownership in this space, I'll enter a little something to get started.

Today I am packing up the pieces of my life and putting them in various places so I can embark on what I am calling "The Grand Adventure". After so many failed housing attempts with lousy landlords it leaves my housing head spinning, and having been blackballed for being a whistleblower for clergy sexual misconduct in several situations  and drug and alcohol abuse in my little community, I have decided to switch the priorities in my life and sleep in my car until I can afford to buy my own home.

Theoretically this should spell failure. I'm officially a senior citizen, severely disabled in my ability to walk and move, oh... and I'm a woman. But this is America. Supposedly I can start with nothing and accomplish whatever I like.

I have wasted over three hundred thousand dollars in rent, been unable to complete the writing and musical projects I want to finish and... I have an enormous amount of faith, my education, some street smarts, good business sense, a down comforter, an enormous capacity to "do tough", and a sense of adventure and humour.

More later. Back to packing. Looking forward to you joining me on this journey.

Writing Process Blog Tour

Today I post as part of the Writing Process Blog Tour. I chose this blog , one of my three, because it is the place where most of my life observation musings are akin to the questions we are to answer as part of this Tour. Many thanks to Donna Miscolta whose post can be found http://phdincreativewriting.wordpress.com/2014/07/31/my-writing-process-blog-tour/
for tagging me. On to the questions:
WHAT AM I WORKING ON?

Writing, for me, began as an outlet, a pressure vent as 'twere when I was a teen. It progressed to a means of keeping track of things, events, emotions, relationships. English teachers gave me feedback that was affirming. I wasn't connected to that. I couldn't objectify the act of writing, I just did it. That period morphed into opportunities for creativity and prophetic moments about social and theological injustices- observations and statements. During that time I acquired, quite by happenstance, a space for a regular column I entitled "Positively Speaking" in the local newspaper for our little Island.

Very late in life I happened into a program called EDGE sponsored by the Artist's Trust in Seattle. There I discovered my people. They were called writers. The idea of sharing my work and marketing my work became more real and viable. That is what I am working on today. Finally, I am accepting the definition others have placed on me and am trying to move from writing/teaching to author/speaker.

My regular column in the Vashon Loop has my primary focus. I've been pumping out 800-1000 words every two weeks year 'round for over ten years now. I keep thinking 'Oh, this will be the issue it all runs dry", and then suddenly there are words on the page about a whole new topic and new thoughts.

This year I'm culling the pieces I believe to be the strongest to share and putting them in a book called, "Love, Deborah" which is how I sign each essay.

Other projects are in various stages from research to 'send it out again'. Most important right now is that brave new world, for a boomer woman like me, of cyberspace presence. Developing the text and substance of my website and a cyberspace presence is paramount...and strange, to me.

HOW DOES MY WORK DIFFER FROM OTHERS OF IT'S GENRE?

I have a broad based mixed genre platform. You know those croans and elders who sit at the city gates and just spout off about stuff and tell great stories that seem like history and parable at the same time? That's me. Expounding and narrating is the core of my platform.  All of my work, from children's literature to memoire, poetry to fiction, plays and screenplays, music and musicals, sacred or secular, has pieces of both my journey and my legacy interwoven in their content and purpose. I don't write for the market, I market what I write.

WHY DO YOU WRITE WHAT YOU DO?
My primary and core character trait is 'encourager'. I've been given the gift of Hope. I'm mulch not top soil; an earthworm, not beauty bark. It's very counter culture.

Secondly, I'm a prophetess. I can see the strength in authenticity and dare to say anything that is not love is evil, or lost. Who I am and what I've experienced dictate what I write.

Lastly, my creative side enjoys experimenting with form and presentation. ie- If I arrange the words like this...

HOW DOES YOUR WRITING PROCESS WORK?
Stewing and longhand are my two essential tools. They begin the process. They are foundational activities for me.

While I'm mulling things over, I watch movies, read, go out to coffee with friends, knit, work on another project, all the while running a parallel conversation about an idea or perception or declaration.

When it feels ready to come off the backburner, I write in longhand in spiral bound notebooks, in pencil. If searching out factoids and geography is necessary, then let there be index cards! 4x6 's.

Brain science research show the connection between writing longhand and creativity is essential. I rarely sit down to the keyboard first. I type the longhand draft. Sometimes it looks the same as what I've written. Sometimes it doesn't. The rest you know: edit, revise, repeat...endlessly.

One new experience for me this past year has been working collaboratively with an illustrator. I am eager for those results to come together. It has engaged me with my work in a completely different relationship.

WHO I'VE TAGGED: Next up to post at their own sites next Wednesday 20th August 2014 are:
Himanee Gupta-Carlson
Jennifer Birney
and
Karen Guttowsky-Zimmerman

Big Batch Living

I was given this chicken this week. But I had been given a chicken last week as well. And I had a corned beef. Suddenly I'm looking up recipes in the leftover section of that Big Oven app. Rice, pineapple, chicken were the three ingredients. Sweet and sour chicken... obviously. Over rice.

So tomorrow I will have to cook ahead as well. Some jello with mandarin orange slice will be refrigerated. And some corn chowder, potato salad, egg salad, mashed potatoes and bread pudding. That's what's in the fridge that needs to be used up and I don't want to lose anything.

Oh yea...and the nachos with quinoa chips to use up the shredded cheese. Hmmmm. I've got that block of mozzerella I was given and the herb cheese block too. So, I guess, some of the mozzerella for mac and cheese and some for spaghetti casserole with one of the containers of frozen sauce in the freezer.

I wish, I really wish, that I approached the 'to do list' for the rest of my life with as much enthusiasm, focus and energy as I do cooking big batches of food and knowing that I had quick handy meals at hand throughout the week.

So I'm thinking tomorrow, I'm going to try to adopt that attitude towards the rest of my chores....We'll see.
Love,
Deborah

Like Waiting for Water to Boil.....

Twenty years is a long time to wait for something to work itself out. But that's how long it's taken in one particular situation.

Think about it. Twenty x 365 days, 366 some years, x 24 hours x 60 minutes x 60 seconds....

How many of those increments of time do you think I noticed? All of them. Time hung. Time stood still. Time seemed like an eternity.

This I learned. Just as a casserole, cake or stew cannot be hurried by turning up the heat, so life's moments need the time to coordinate with other moments.

Remember Miracle Max in 'The Princess Bride' movie? His great statement was 'Rush a miracle and you end up with a rotten miracle."

Much has been made of 'mindfulness'. Equally important is 'back burner'. Let it simmer. Let it stew. Let it steep. Wait. You end up with a better miracle.
Love,
Deborah

Eggs and Bacon

Somebody has been giving me bacon in some gift packages. I love bacon. I also want to live long and prosper. Remembering Phil's line about Curly from ' City Slickers' after Curly died :"The man ate bacon with every meal. You can't do that!" I've been pondering what to do with the bacon.

Ah....insight...use it as I would a seasoning. So tonight I cooked some up with some zucchini and put some in  over easy eggs for dinner and packed the rest away to add just the right amount of naughty good taste to some potato salad I will make tomorrow using Saffola mayo.

Always the scales of nutrition must tip towards health, but there are some items that just plain add flavour and substance.

It's that way with how we spend out days too, isn't it?  Most of the time we need to be on task and working towards fulfilling our responsibilities and caring for those we love and have made promises to. But daily, and I do mean daily or it builds up to a big deficit that can lead to bingeing, we need to experience a little richness, a little pleasure or recreation that lifts and encourages.

A counselor at an agency that frequently counseled clergy stated, "The flip side of social reform is hedonism".

Do 100% of everything in a good healthy way. And then add a little bit of colour and flavour and fun with something that feeds the soul and encourages the Spirit. Not an addiction that removes pain, a gift to yourself that moves you forward to the next big sacrifice with cheerfulness and wonder.
Best for today...

Love,
Deborah