Category Archives: Stories

Farm Stories, Health and Fitness, Inspiration, Stories

One step forward, three bumps down.

I might have mentioned that since I’m not working lately I have been doing a lot of yardwork. For the last two weeks my biggest focus has been the nightmare of a firepit terrace. See, somebody about 15 or more years ago got a brilliant idea to reuse chunks of broken driveway to make a terrace. It’s a great idea in theory, but the way they did it was awful. There were gaps to swallow chair legs and it was uneven enough to trip over. I’ve put up with it for 8 years and I decided that I was going to tackle it. Pry slabs loose, break them up, shovel out the sod between. It’s not easy work and I’ve been going slow but steady.

The firepit before I started tearing it apart. You can hardly see the concrete for the grass growing between!

A week ago a friend volunteered her husband for a couple of mornings. His work was on pause and he was going stir crazy. We spent one morning prying up the slabs and got farther than I expected. The next day he put treads on my deck stairs. They’d been out of commission for an embarrassing amount of time and we had been using a less than ideal path down to the lawn. But with a couple of hours of work he had the top half put back together. Yay! Now I have easy access to the lawn from upstairs.

The terrace after one week of work. I might not be fast, but I love to see the results of my efforts.

So Tuesday of last week I got as far as setting up a row of blocks to mark the edge of the terrace. I put in probably five hours of hard labor moving heavy things by hand. I took Wednesday easy to make sure I didn’t hurt myself. Thursday morning I got ready to work hard again. I put my boots on by the back door on the deck and went to use my newly useable stairs. The top half was fine. Then I got to the bottom half where there are still the old wood deck boards. Wood stairs that haven’t been used in almost two years… If you’ve ever lived in a damp climate you know exactly where this is going. Wood that sits for any time ends up getting coated with a sludge that isn’t quite moss, mildew, or mud, but is as slick as snot.

I took one step onto the first stair and the next thing I knew my feet weren’t under me. I landed on my tailbone and bumped down a few steps until my heels dug in at the bottom landing. Ow! It didn’t hurt much at first, but my mobility was suddenly severely limited. I could hardly bend over to pick things up from the ground. But I have found that if I don’t keep moving I will freeze up.

I got the hose and a wire brush and scrubbed those steps to within an inch of their life. I managed to mow part of the lawn. Ow! I didn’t want to sit. Reaching for anything that takes me out of center hurt. And every time I hurt it made me laugh. Ibuprofen didn’t help much. An ice pack helped a little. But what did the most was time.

It’s been a week. It hasn’t been a fun week. I’ve been restless and cranky and hardly got anything done. I gave myself a deadline of May 30 to have this terrace cleared and some sort of firepit functional. Lounging around wasn’t getting anything done. I hate feeling like I can’t get things done. It does bad things to my mental health. But yesterday I got moving again.

My boys helped me get the big trailer down into position, then they helped break up more slabs.
I did not think there was this much concrete in that terrace. And there’s more to load.

I got my boys to come out with me. The middle one just needed the incentive of driving my truck to bring the trailer down. I am horrible at backing trailers while he has a natural instinct for it. We got it parked and started throwing chunks on it. Now it’s piled high enough that I’m worried about it being overweight. We might have to throw half of it off before we take it on the road.

I often start projects only to run into the most ridiculous roadblocks. All I know how to do is to keep trying. It often feels like I’m going too slow if not backwards. But when I pause and look around I can see that I’m not doing as bad as it feels. Baby steps might not be fast, but if you take those tiny steps for long enough you might be surprised how far you can get. And don’t hesitate to slow down if the situation calls for it. Allowing yourself to recover means you can do more the next time you push. Just don’t let the momentum completely disappear.

I just have the one pile of chunks left to throw on the trailer. Then I can rake it level. Should be done this evening!
Dogs, Farm Stories, Goats, Poultry, Stories

A tale of ducks and turkeys and goats and a dog.

I have a duck in one tub and a dog in the other. And there’s a story behind it.

It’s not the first time we’ve had a duck in the bathtub.

Last time we bought poultry feed we decided to try a cheaper brand. It saved us almost $20 for a month of feed, but it seems to have caused problems for the ducks. Almost two weeks ago a duck had to be brought in for treatment of a prolapsed vent. She got all bound up and tried to eject her innerds. Professor Google provided answers and she got to have daily Epsom salt baths and Preparation H applied to encourage healing. This morning she got released back to the pen, but another one seems to be starting the same problem. We need two people to catch the duck because they are slippery suckers.

Well, the ducks share a pen with the turkeys. The turkeys don’t like anyone messing with their pen or their ducks. They need to go out on grass anyway so we herded the turkeys out of the pen and down to the pond pasture. The goats were at the gate, but the leaf-rake-of-doom kept them far enough back so we could shove turkeys through one at a time.

Then we noticed that one goat had grown too big for his collar. I don’t know how it came on so quickly, but he looked like he was choking and gasping for air. That needed to be dealt with immediately. But he didn’t want to be caught. The other goats were eager to run in defense of him to keep us away. We had a merry chase around the pond and back and forth across the creek. We were getting nowhere and he just got more stressed.

Here’s a word of advice: don’t bother chasing goats to catch them. It works for poultry, but goats are stubborn and smart. They will always escape if you chase. It’s better to lure them in. A coffee can of COB (AKA goat crack) properly applied will get them to do almost anything you want.

So we had a can of goat crack. We had the rake-of-doom and a long stick and a leash for just in case. We got 4 of 5 goats to come and partake of treats. You can guess which one refused. We got 3 of 5 into the other pasture and closed the gate. So now we have the meekest goat (Ritz) and the distressed goat (Moo). They’re easier to manipulate on their own. I walked over to the roofed dog kennel they use as shelter and drop a pile of crack…COB. Ritzy meanders in, happy to have a chance at treats and Moo follows. I step in and close the door.

We aren’t supposed to use horns to manage goats, but they sure are handy. I caught him. My helper straddled and pinned him. I unhooked the collar… finally! Then we let him eat out of the coffee can so the entire encounter could be associated with treats instead of terror. I might have made a mistake in not working with this goat much. He needs to be better socialized to humans.

Okay, the goat is dealt with, the turkeys are hanging out with them and intimidating them while wrestling each other. Meanwhile the dog has been gleefully running in circles, unable to decide if he’s going to “help” us wrangle goats, chase rabbits, or roll in all the smells he usually doesn’t have access to. Guess what he did.

Back to the duck pen. We got the ducks cornered and pulled out the ailing one. Got back to the house and I started filling the tub with water and Epsom salt. The dog followed me in and boy did he smell foul! The minute that duck was settled in her bath I took the dog to the other bathroom to get him cleaned up.

“But Mom! I thought it smelled so good! Why don’t you like my perfume?”

There is something about manure that is irresistible to dogs. Especially male dogs. Most baths given to dogs in this house happen after they have found their way into a pasture and come back crusted in stink. It’s like a 13 year old boy that believes the Axe commercials. Except we all know that repulses rather than attracts.

I got the dog clean. I even finished off with a dab of the boys Old Spice body wash around his neck. We’ll see how he likes that smell. The duck has gotten her treatment and is in the hospital cage for observation. The bathrooms are clean-ish and the used towels in the washer. Let the day go back to the sleepy rainy Saturday we had intended to have.

Stories

Hurry up and wait.

I have been in a strange place the last week or two. I know I left Trimet at the right time. I know I couldn’t have gone back and driven the bus with the attitude and mindset necessary to handle the people anymore, especially as we all moved into pandemic mode. But not working has not been easy. I like having an externally imposed structure to my life. I have a hard time finding my own structure. I need to get better at it. So being at loose ends is an interesting experience.

Like I wrote earlier, I’ve been trying to get my landscaping under control. But for the last week I’ve truly been stuck at home because my truck is in the shop. Driving up to my parents house every weekend for a month made me more aware than ever that the steering wasn’t behaving right. The last trip home I was pulling their minivan on a tow dolly and it was nerve-wracking how much I was wandering in the lane. My brother was following me, going crazy because I didn’t feel safe at full freeway speed and he felt like he was crawling.

Blue is getting some TLC.

It turns out I needed far more than just an alignment. There was a lot of delayed maintenance to catch up on. The shocks were worn out. The steering tie rods were worn. The gears in the steering box were worn out to the point that they were allowing the steering to wander. The brakes were ready to be replaced again. The seals on the rear hubs were leaking grease onto the parking brakes. And I needed an oil change. My savings account is not going to be happy. But this is why I have a savings account. I don’t need to go into debt to make sure I’m safe on the road.

So here I sit at home. I have time to wait. I have time to figure out how I’m going to replace this chunk of money back into my savings account. I ended up putting in an application to a business apprenticeship program I’ve been intrigued by for a couple of years. An answer came back today and I am scheduled for a video interview. So now I will be stretching my tech skills as well as challenging my time skills. I’ve had a month without income. It’s enough to know I’m not comfortable letting this continue.

With this program I hope to gain skills that are needed but that I currently lack. I can fake competence pretty well, especially since I’m not too proud to ask for help when I get in too deep. But I’m happier when I don’t have to fake it. Maybe this time next year I’ll be a marketing whiz at some small company. It’s an exciting thought, and it puts me a step closer to feeling able to manage a business of my own.

Right now I’m in wait mode. I’m waiting for the call to hear that my truck is ready and how much it’ll be. I’m waiting for the interview to find out if I’ll be able to continue down that path. I’m still waiting to hear what’s happening with the tour bus job! I’m keeping busy at home and still decompressing from Trimet. It’s okay.

(Have I mentioned how delighted I am to not be dealing with the bus in pandemic mode? Delighted, I say! And I do hope my former co-workers make it through with their health and sanity intact.)

Stories

A jumping off point

I am on the verge of something that could be a mistake or could be the best decision of my life. At this point I’m not entirely sure.

For the last two years I have said that I need to leave my job. Driving for Trimet has provided well for my family. It is hard to match the pay. The health insurance has taken good care of me. But the job itself is abusive. I hurt at the end of every day. If I have trouble or complaints from passengers it is somehow always my fault for not handling it right. Even when I report a bus for leaking exhaust I get treated like I’m imagining it. Their buses are just fine! I’ve done it for 14 years now and I’m tired. I’ve been preparing to leave for a while now. I think it’s time.

So I spent the last 6 months cruising job sites to see what’s out there. I bought a property near Fairbanks a year ago. I’ve talked with my kids to prepare them for if I leave. They’re old enough to manage the house here in Oregon. And now I have an email with a job offer, waiting for me to sign.

So this job is just seasonal. It is driving tour bus for cruise ship passengers on the inside passage of Alaska. The starting pay will be about half of my current job. I can get that bumped up if I complete extra training, and there may be tips involved. I can still back out, but I don’t want to. This isn’t the leap I thought I would make, but it is a stepping stone. It’ll be difficult, but I think I can make it work.

I have spent my life seeking stability. Especially for the last eight years I have hidden in the familiar, kept my head down, and just did what I had to do to get through one day at a time, one hour at a time. Now that is no longer enough. I will not go crazy with freedom, abandoning all that is familiar. I will step out into the world to see what more it holds for me. I have done my most basic duty. My boys are functional adults that can take care of themselves. Now I get to take care of me. At the same time I can show them how big the world is and that they don’t need to get trapped by duty and comfort.

That’s what is running through my head this morning. I need to get up and start my day. I have papers to sign and an appointment to go to. I have a life to change. Let’s hope it’s for the better.

Stories

More personal angst…

Just have to get this out of the way. I need to clear the air in my own head. I don’t want to pretend that life is perfect and good while I marinate in misery. Plus, the moment I take the convoluted thoughts from my brain and let them sit in the open I can see them for what they are: mostly inflated nonsense.

Yesterday flew by in a blur. I don’t remember what I did for most of the day. I spent most of the time in my head. Coffee may have been involved. Conversation with a couple of friends also came into play. I ended up making a move and I don’t yet know if I will get a result. But simply taking action is a huge thing for me.

Ugh. I said angst. I feel like I’m being ridiculously dramatic! It’s so adolescent to make everything mean so much when it doesn’t. And now I wonder how much sense any of this makes to anyone who doesn’t know what’s in my head.

I’m an Oregonian. All my life. Until a couple of years ago I could not imagine wanting to live anywhere else. I have a property outside of Portland that I love and have amazing plans for. But something changed. I realized that I can only keep the property I love by staying in the job I don’t love. And there are things about my state that are changing in ways that I don’t want. So I changed my mindset. A year ago I visited a friend who lives in Alaska and found a very different lifestyle that speaks to my soul. Since then I have been trying to figure out how to make it all work for me to get up there. I bought a property up there. I have a 5 year plan outlined. I’m looking to fill in the details. I’m looking for courage to make a leap. I’m looking for a job that will pay me enough to live up there and fill in the gaps of what my kids can afford in rent on the house in Oregon.

It doesn’t sound like angst when I explain it simply. My brain gets wound up though and infuses it all with doubt. I don’t know if I’m physically strong enough to do the jobs I’m looking at. I don’t know if I have focus. I doubt my ability to handle my money. I worry that my health will fail. I think about all the things that could go wrong. It’s hard to hold on to what can go right.

Here’s what I know:

  • I have friends up there to back me up physically and emotionally.
  • I have people in place here that can take care of the house in Oregon.
  • I have knowledge and experience beyond what I can show evidence for on paper.
  • My Oregon property is worth nearly double what I owe on it so it is a good asset.
  • My Alaska property is all mine. I owe nothing on it and can turn it into a money maker with a couple of simple cabins.
  • If I get a job that doesn’t match my current income I can still supplement that income with side jobs if I arrange things right. I might evem be able to exceed my current income overall and be happier doing it.
  • I have people up there who can teach me things I need to know instead of having to go to classes down here.

In short, the only reason not to take the leap right now is because of fear. I have been in a stable, well paying job for so long that I am terrified to step away from it. But I have compared this job to an abusive relationship for many years now. It’s time to figure out how to cut my way out and tie up the loose ends.

I put in an application last night. I don’t know if it will bear fruit. I might have to try a few more times. Let me prepare myself by saying that the first couple of jobs I do interview for might not be right. But at some point something will happen. I’m not going to give up. Sometime this year I am going to be writing a blog post from the porch of my cabin in Alaska. I will be laughing about how much I stressed over the idea of looking at jobs. I’ll be saying how much peace I have in my soul. I’ll be working to live, not living to work.

On another note, I have a couple more posts for the camping list. I’d like to finish that series in the next week. I have a couple more ideas for other series that have been simmering on the back burner. I’ll probably have to do another emotion dump or two as I work my way through this transition. I hope to get on some sort of regular posting schedule, but we’ll see what shape that will take. I’m trying to reinvent myself here. Nothing is predictable.

Stories

Here we go again…

Yeah, I’ve been silent for a while. I’m sure nobody noticed since nobody reads this. But I noticed. I have felt the pull to post. I don’t know why I haven’t. So frustrating! I feel like I’m fighting a battle with another me in the back of my head that wants to sabotage all progress just to play it safe.

Well, I’ve made some progress in real life. Nothing big, unless you count Lasik to ditch the glasses I’ve worn since I was 9. I also went in to have my gallbladder removed a couple days ago. That isn’t as easy to recover from as the vision adjustment. But if I never have another attack it’s worth it!

I have taken medical leave so I don’t have to drive while I heal. That would be a nightmare! I would be so sore and bad tempered that I’d get nothing but complaints. It’s bad enough managing my reaction to my pack of dogs who all want to poke my belly with their noses. Sniffing is one thing, but it shouldn’t be a full contact sport! Fortunately none of them have stepped on me yet.

I am taking advantage of this down time to scroll through job sites. And here is my biggest dilemma: I have plenty of experience and competence with the job I have, but not enough experience or education for any other jobs I might want. I have 14 years of bus driving, but when I search for class B CDL jobs over half of the listings are really for class A. I can look for customer service jobs, but either they want a bachelor’s degree in something or it’s entry level phone work. I can’t easily replace my income from what I can see. This means that I either need some education or that I need to be some version of entrepreneurial. Education means leaving the steady income with no guarantees. It’s terrifying for someone like me who clings to stability.

So ultimately, do I enroll in training to get my class A or do I go with the apprenticeship that might have me move to another city for a while? Or do I apply for the rotational position that would get me to Alaska and almost match my current income? Can the rest of the household function without me? I’ve tried to train them and set up systems and expectations. It should be possible. Any other person might laugh at the drama swings that go on in my head. They are keeping me off balance.

Okay, now I’ve unloaded my angst on a non-existent audience. I’ve shouted it out to my own echo chamber. I need to sort through it and make some decisions. This is the best time after all. I won’t get this much down time again any time soon. I’d better keep digging and take advantage of it.

Family, Picks, Reading, Stories

I’ts been a weekend…the week will be even more fun…maybe

Saturday I made it to work and survived. That was enough. Sunday I slept late and dragged myself through the necessary actions. It was enough. I’m sure we all have times like this. I’m a little disappointed that I broke my streak, but I’m not going to get all angsty over it. It just points out that I need to work out a plan to be able to have days like that and still do the big things that I want to make happen.

Yesterday wasn’t a total loss. I did spend a couple of hours hanging out with my oldest son. We talked about plans, accomplishments, and books. He’s been bitten by the Audible bug. Now we get to discuss books that we’ve both “read” and tell each other which others need to go on our respective lists. We both have been listening our way through a lot of books by Larry Correia. I let him know that Son of the Black Sword had a second book. House of Assassins was pretty good, but the story still has a long way to go before it’s done. He is working his way through the Otherland series by Tad Williams. I read the first one when he was a baby and handed him the dead tree version when he was a HS freshman. Now that he’s got his own VR setup he has a whole new perspective on the storyline. He says he wants to shout it from the rooftops how awesome the story is and that I need to start it so we can discuss. I told him to read the Troy Rising trilogy by John Ringo and Thinking in Pictures by Temple Grandin. Ringo isn’t for everyone, but I know that he will enjoy the worldbuilding in the trilogy. And I’m sure this won’t be the last time we cause each other’s wish list to grow.

Is it a failure when your crumble crust sinks below the filling? I think not, because one of the pies evaporated before it was fully cooled.

I also made multi-berry pie so that there would be more room in the freezer. Have you ever done that? I found five different bags of assorted berries and threw them into a pot to make pie filling. It was delicious on waffles for breakfast and in a crust for an after-dinner treat. I should do this a couple more times. I’m sure there are peaches that need to be used as well.

It looked like a good start…Cheese, pepper, mushrooms, spinach, and egg.

Then there were the egg bites. Costco has them for half the price of the coffee shop that shall not be named. But I want to make my own flavor for even less. I’m sure I could make two dozen for less than $10. I just have to work out a few bugs. Oven baking is not going to work. Neither is Feta cheese, no matter how much I like the flavor. I need to work on how they are going to release from the pan, too. Maybe I need a sous vide unit…I know there’s at least one person in the house that wouldn’t complain. I just want something I can take to work for lunch that is low carb, high protein, and not boring. Boiled eggs don’t always agree with me and being a lifelong vegetarian means that I have fewer options for protein, especially if I’m trying to reduce the soy and highly processed stuff. Why does good eating have to be so hard?

They looked amazing in the pan, all puffed up and fragrant. Then I tried to remove them from the pans. Hmmmm, not so great. Needs work. These will be gone soon enough so I can try again. Half were eaten overnight.

This week could be interesting in the way of the proverbial curse, so I’m not sure how things will go on the blog. The weather men are threatening us with the white slippery junk. Laugh if you must, but snow in Portland Oregon is a special kind of evil. Currently it is 37F and lightly raining. If the temperature drops tomorrow the way they say it will all of that rain will become a sheet of ice that snow can fall on top of. I have to drive in that stuff. I get paid for about 8 hours of that, but my normal hour-long commute includes some steep hills through higher elevations. I can feel my blood pressure creeping up at the thought of it. I’ll leave plenty of extra time to get to work and have a well stocked go-bag in case I get stuck, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. The city and Multnomah County in general seem pretty clueless about road maintenance in a snow event. The one thing they know how to do is put down the deicer, but with all the rain we’ve been getting in the past week it would all be washed off the streets. My greatest hope is that it will fizzle. That the temps never get below 35F and it all just stays rain. I’d be happy with that.

Tomorrow I will work on the next category of the Camping List. If I remember correctly it will be clothing. You only need a single small bag, really. You don’t have to be like my friend who showed up for an overnight campout with three suitcases…one for her hair and makeup, one for her clothes, and one just for her shoes… She still gets flustered when we tease her about the current bush for her curling iron.

Stories

A Little Out of Sorts

You ever have a day that just feels off right from the start? That was yesterday. I’m still catching up.

I woke up a bit late yesterday, got my post out, then checked FB as I put my lunch together. Earlier my nephew had shared a post from an extended family member about his cousin who had been missing for a couple of days. Yesterday morning he posted something that made me think they had found something. We chatted for a while and yes, they found him, but it was not a good outcome. When you lose a person to poor health or accident it hurts, but you know that there are some things that you just can’t control. When another person deliberately takes another’s life and tries to hide it…it just doesn’t make sense. Somehow that is harder to process. I hurt for my nephew and all the other family members that I have never met. I’m glad that I could support my nephew, but it was a hard way to start my day.

Then there was a knock on the door and I had to calm down the dogs so that we could get a quote for the installation of gas line for the new dryer and/or water heater that I’m considering. I’m hoping to save some money on the electric bill and never have to take another cold shower when I need to warm up. That all went well. I got my questions asked and still left for work on time. But as I was gathering my things I got a text from a friend. “Call me.” “ASAP” Ummm… Fortunately they just wanted ideas for where to buy a certain kind of sausage for the dinner they were planning. But after the way the day started off that wasn’t a good text to get!

Fortunately the rest of the day went smoothly for the most part, but something still feels off. I’m hoping to get back on track. I have things I want to do. At minimum I want to be clear-headed enough to get my laundry basket folded before bed tonight. I’ve been putting it off for too long already. It’s one of those weird mental things where life feels more put together if your bed is made, your laundry is put away, and the floors are clean. Leaving those for too long has a bad effect on me.

Alrighty then. It’s Friday. People are going to be weird. Traffic will be unpredictable. My week is almost over. Time to go get this done.

Stories

So I’m really craving a camping trip…

Yeah, I’ve had camping on the brain lately. I keep seeing RVs and try to imagine what kind would be reasonable with my truck. I think about what tent I should get to replace the one that died an early death last year. I dream about trips I’d like to take and places I want to see. My summer camping group finally got a messenger group started and spent yesterday determining who is likely to go in June. Another friend came over for coffee and we were talking about how she tries to keep their gear organized for impulse trips, but her husband keeps raiding the bins. So I’ve decided this is the year I’m going to make the list.

10th birthday backpack trip to Lake Carl near Mt Jefferson, OR

I’ve been a camper most of my life. My parents had an old green canvas tent that could open on one side to connect to the back of a station wagon. My mom told stories of when her family went to Yellowstone and came back from a walk to find a bear in their tent. She said the bear decided to leave really fast and made a door for itself in the side of the tent. I celebrated my 10th birthday on a backpack trip with the church youth group. I took my husband camping early in our relationship and we kept the tradition going with our kids. Along the way I’ve figured out a lot about what works and what is unnecessary.

I’m a tent camper at heart. I’ve tried the RV style of camping, but it just isn’t for me. I like the feel of being down to the bare basics. I like to leave the rain fly off and see the stars. RV walls keep nature at a distance, and that ruins the entire point of camping in my opinion. If I ever do get one it would be no more than a glorified tent, a mechanism to bring along a more comfortable bed. Camp cooking is best done outside. I hate RV kitchens for how cramped they are.

Yeah, I’m pretty opinionated. But I know what I know and the biggest thing is that camping doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive. I think you should be able to throw a couple of bins in the car, a bag of clothes and a box of food, and just hit the road. That’s an idea of camping Nirvana that I strive for and have not yet been able to reach. That’s why this year is going to be all about the list.

Every camping trip starts with a list. I pull out a notebook and write the same thing I did last time. Then I go through my bins and organize and make sure everything is there. Then I wonder what I forgot and why I don’t just print out my list and tape it to the bins to make my life easier. That’s what I’m gearing up to do this year. I’m making my list and running it past my kids and my friends to see if they can add anything helpful. Then I’m going to share it. And I’ll discuss my choices for the items on the list. And maybe someone will find the list and the discussion and it will help them have fun camping. So for the next couple of weeks I am going to be all about the camping list. This should be fun!

Stories

A Vision For 2020

1 Comment

Happy New Year! Last night I made a bah humbug post about not needing arbitrary days and times to make a fresh start. Every day, every hour can mark a new beginning if we choose. But there are some dates that just beg to be used. There’s something psychologically satisfying about dividing time into chunks. So let me review my decades and look for themes before I say what I have planned for the next one.

I don’t remember much of the 70s. I only got to experience half of the decade. I do remember turning 4, just after one of the only times I remember moving house. I know, some people move dozens of times but I moved when I was 3 and lived in the same place for the next 34 years.

The 80s were all about school. I was good at academics and terrible at people. I remember hating algebra homework and programming the VCR to record Friday Night Videos so we could watch Janet Jackson and Paula Abdul.

The 90s were about growing up. Finishing high school, first job, first boyfriend, marriage, children, coffee shop that was fun to run but failed… Life teaches more than school ever could, and if you pay attention the lessons stick.

2000s were about settling in. Now they seem like a blur. Routine, work, get the kids through school. Not that nothing happened, but it all fit into the routine.

2010s have been about change and adaptation. Moving, loss, working around limitations, watching my kids turn into adults. Making plans for me.

Now we’re moving into the 20s. I can set up my intentions, but I know that can go sideways. Still, this decade gets to be about me creating a life for me. My kids get to find their own way. I’ll be there to support them, but their lives are not mine. I can’t live for or through them. I get to be an example for their future. Hopefully positive.

So, specific plans are in order for the new year. I have three main projects to work on. First is a change of career. Second is to do with my property in Alaska. Third has to do with this blog and writing. I’m working on the career change. I have a couple of people to talk to and a couple of quick certifications to get for one of my possibilities. Those have to be done this week. The Alaska plan is for the summer. I want to get a first cabin put in on my land. Coordinating that with my job change might get interesting, but I’m determined. And finally, I have decided to do a 60 day blog challenge. That means I will post something every single day from now until the end of February and beyond. No excuses. I know what I’m going to write about. You see… I’ve been thinking a lot about camping lately…