Monthly Archives: January 2013

God Don’t Like Complainers


NoComplaining

Um…. I guess that would be me.  So embarrassing to say that, but yeah.  Life is so weird.  You live, you try to sculpt yourself into the person you’d like to grow up to be; then as you try to “be” that person, you say to yourself that you’ve got to be you, you’ve got to voice your opinions.  That’s paramount and you assert yourself.  But let’s see where that got me……

Before I go further, I must state that I am fully blessed.  Despite my many failings, I am deeply loved.  That gives me the courage to write about myself and my flaws and failures.  First and foremost I am loved by God and have the firm belief of His profound forgiving nature.  There is a quote that speaks to this and I read it every day.  I have a firm belief that God has a purpose for each and every one of us, despite our imperfections.  He literally has a specific need, or finds a specific need for our specific imperfections.  We are useful despite it all.  This give me hope for my own soul.

“My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing
  from God as my successes and my talents,
  and I lay both of them at His feet.”
   ~Mahatma Gandhi

All my life I was the quiet one.  The one who desperately strove to melt into the background, and blended in, right in between those gigantic flowers, painted onto the wallpaper in our kitchen.  I was a stutterer and I could not get a word out before the several attempts that usually bored people right before they moved on to other subjects.  Get the picture?  Not only could I not communicate, but I did not learn the social skills in order to interact with other human beings.  So I listened.  I listened to exchanges that totally, totally bored me.  I simply was not interested in most female conversations regarding curtains and home decor.  So what developed was that I became judgmental of females…. well, whether I am justified or not on that is still out for debate… pfst.  To this day, I find a conversation with a man much more interesting than talking to women…. sorry gals.

Anyway, so I’ve gotten to the point in my life where I can hold a conversation, but struggle with the social cues.  I do not stutter, except under stress it might come back a little.  I find that I am a woman who has a problem recognizing and honoring moderation.  I seem to be either this way or that–to the extreme.  Like, I could abstain from soda for months, yet if I get one taste, I’m off and running consuming more soda in one day than one has a right to.  WTH?  Same with water.  One day I’m consuming massive quantities of it, and the next I am a camel in the desert and you could not force one drop down my throat.  As a matter of fact, I need some right now……..

I’m back…. So, now that I’m going verbal, my Gemini self cannot shut up and every single thought in my head is out and off the tongue no sooner than my brain gets a hold of it.  Well, some thoughts should stay unspoken.  After years of keeping my mouth shut tight, the flood gates are opened and with my relatively newfound confidence, I speak my mind whenever and wherever and to whomever.  And it’s not all good.  You know if you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.  The bottom line for me is that after I speak my mind, I feel better.  But taking my judgmental self outside and giving the double-parkers blocking traffic with their cars a piece of my mind, well, that can’t work for anyone but me.  Even then, afterwards I usually feel that I could’ve handled the situation a lot better.  I can’t abide inconsideration in any of its forms… but I really shouldn’t be getting into confrontations like I do.  Maybe writing about this will help me remember that next time.

Today I was listening to Alan Horvath who is a musician who does videos about the bible and religion.  I do suggest checking out his videos on youtube if you have a desire to listen to the Word with the names in their original languages.  I’m hoping the meaning of these books go back to the beginning, without the contamination of the human pen.  I watched one video about  Alan’s experience during Frankenstorm Sandy and he talked about how he heard a lot of people complaining.  He said, “God doesn’t like complainers,” and I thought, O.M.G. that’s me.  I complain long and loud to anyone who would stay quiet long enough for me to do so.  But you know, even though we didn’t have power for ten days, we had everything else, until our food spoiled; but even then we could still travel to towns every day to pick up some food for that day.  Yes, we were in long lines at the gas station, but heck, it was not bad enough to complain about.  I think people today don’t want to wait for anything.  We are under so much pressure to do it fast, then move on to the next thing.  I used this blog to complain, I also complained on facebook, I got together with my neighbor and we complained to each other… sigh.  But it was driven home to me, an active member of a Roman Catholic church, that God does not appreciate complainers.  Should that have been news to me?  Nope.  The whole book of Exodus tells us of the Jews complaining every other day and you know what?  God kept them wandering in the desert for forty years.  You’d think they’d learn their lesson.  You’d think that I would have by now, also.  My hubby is an excellent example.  He doesn’t complain at all.  Usually, that plays out well for me when I am involved, but if it’s something outside this house, I get frustrated with him, but you know, he’s got the right way to go.  It shows, too.  God is with him.  He’s just one of those people, that you just know.

I need to really learn my lesson.  It’s not like I’m an ignorant bitch…. not really.  So I will close with stating I am truly blessed.  Things are never really as bad as my first impression.  Regarding Hurricane Sandy, we got through it.  We did not flood though this house has a long history of flooding.  Because we did not flood, we kept our hot water.  We had a gas stove to cook on.  No heat, but plenty of handmade blankets to keep us warm at night.  We had radios and thanks to the presence of our seven-year old, plenty of batteries to keep the radios and flashlights going.  I was so grateful for NJ101.5 to keep myself connected to the outside world.  Finally, I had my loving husband and my beloved son with me.  What more could I possibly have the audacity to ask for?

I am Alive With the Sound of Music


Okay, so I couldn’t resist this one.  Daily. Prompt.

What role does music play in your life?

I am not a musician, though I did learn how to play the guitar later in life, which I think is so cool, but I’ll talk more about that.  Music literally saved my life.  That belief is so embedded in me that it’s a part of me.  I grew up in a depression.  I know that now.  In my teens I had serious thoughts of suicide.  I had a pretty vivid imagination and I would fantasize exactly how it would happen.  As a pre-teen, I’d fantasize about near-death situations usually by writing scripts for favorite TV shows.  One was the Wild Wild West, starring Robert Conrad.  This was the TV show that the recently made movie was based upon.  It was high tech for it’s time, which was cool, and I might be able to say it was sort of Steampunk because of that… hmmm that’s a thought.

the wild wild west-jim west-robert conrad-cowboys-western-tv-vintage-retro-television-train

The other was a show about rescue personnel, a helicopter and one guy had a rescue dog, a German Shepherd.  Don’t remember the name, but I’d type out the scripts on my grandfather’s old Underwood typewriter… I mean OLD.  One of those that had the exposed keys…..

PHI3743

Typing on this thing was a bitch but I loved it.  I got to really know the machine and could fix it, tweak it… I made it work for me.  When I really got going, the carriage would fly across and I’d promptly hit the carriage return.  To this day, computers have a “Return” button, well, it used to be called Carriage Return.  It was a lever at the upper left on the carriage.  The carriage was the roller and the thing that held the roller in place.  The paper would be inserted at the top, in back of the roller and you would roll it down, around and into place for typing.  At the top, the carriage return was just employed and the paper is back to the starting position, ready for typing another line… Anyway, I see I’ve digressed again… with pics to boot.

So you should have grasped the point by now that I was depressed and suicidal, or at least had suicidal thoughts as a teenager.  I am alive to this day because of Barry Manilow‘s music.   I would sing along constantly.  His music touched my soul in such a way that I felt that someone out there understood me.  All along, the range of my voice was on the lower end, but I can also sing higher now.  I know almost all of his songs by heart and every time I sing something, I feel that little tear, meaning tear drop, in my heart.  I am so grateful for that, for his music.  I’m sure that he already knows what his music has done for this world, but I’d somehow like for him to know how deeply it/he has touched me.  Mr. Manilow, you saved this life.

I can’t end this post in such a dark, non-presence of light.  All music touches me.  Growing up, and I hated it, my dad would play classical and yes, the old country music.  Now, I can say that I love almost any kind of music and I owe that to my dad.  My dad country music and my mom the top hits of the 50’s and her 45’s.  When I was very young and had the chicken pox, my parents got me a Close N Play phonograph and gave me quite an assortment of 45’s from their own collections, mainly from the 50’s and early 60’s.  I learned the lyrics to those by closing and playing all day long until I got all the words written down.  I’m sure my mother appreciated that… HA.  Oh, it was because of a wacky song or pseudo song called, “The Flying Saucer,” by Dickie Goodman that I came to love those story narratives with parts of songs inserted to fill out the story.  Buchanan and Goodman

Through music, I started writing lyrics to songs, and then poetry… or maybe visa versa.  Sad though because I’d never post them up on the internet because I know that someone will steal it for their own.

In my later 30’s I learned how to play the guitar from a friend.  It was a trade off.  I stayed with him while he recuperated from surgery and he taught me the chord of the guitar.  He’d play melody and I played rhythm.  I enjoyed that, but because of a lack of understanding, and math, I could never learn to read music.  That makes me sad, but I like that I can play by ear.  Even playing just the chords touches me deep inside; and just knowing that I can do it, makes me really happy.   I sang in our church choir for a few years and that was very satisfying as I could sing in front of people… and they actually liked it!

So in closing, what music means to me is memories, both good and bad… but mostly good.  Through music I can relive my past, know exactly where I came from and not be very bummed out about it.

Thanks for listening.

Dearly Departed Daily Prompt


First let me make the question:  Is participating in the Daily Prompt cheating?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for them.  The words come easier when there is a stated goal… But.  Is just answering the question being too lazy to come up with something on my own?  So today, I’m going to forgo the Daily Prompt because I really can’t bring myself to write my own eulogy as it would soon turn into a shameless love fest and I’m not up to it right now…… So what to write.

shipwreckBIG

I’ve not written about my knitting for a while, so maybe that would be good to do today.  As posted previously, I am aching to start the Shipwreck, in Knitty’s Spring 09 issue.  It’s a circular shawl with seaweed, shells and ocean spray all in one pattern.  I love how this flows and I have the perfect yarn,  Knit Pick’s Palette Yarn in Marine Heather colorway.

shipwreckBIGcu

See the beautiful beads?  Love the effect they make of reflective droplets of ocean water.  Definitely want to do beads.  Probably would need hundreds of them, if not thousands… well, maybe not THAT.  Yeah, check the pattern, doof.  Oops, I need to cough up 5000 beads.  I’m not kidding.  See the beautiful beads?  Love the effect they make of reflective droplets of ocean water.  Definitely want to do beads.  Probably would need hundreds of them, if not thousands… well, maybe not THAT.  Yeah, check the pattern, doof.  Oops, I need to cough up 5000 Czech glass seed beads size 8/0; beads.  I’m not kidding.

Oh well, getting on to my last FO.  I’ve been working on this, off and on, since Oct. 30, 2011.  I can’t believe I let almost a whole year go by after putting it down for the summer.  Never put stuff down, except maybe a blanket…. grrr… not even an afghan, which I have one that is still floundering since it was started, OMG, January 2008~!

photo (1)

 

This is the Tappan Zee Cardigan.  I just threw it on, unblocked, to take this pic.  While I am really happy to finish it and happy with how it came out, looking at this pic, I’m definitely not happy with the yoke.  I’m not happy that I only have these bulky crew neck tops to wear it with.  I’m considering doing something… it’s the “S” word that nobody really wants to talk about.  I’m wondering about steeking the tops of the shoulders and short sleeves to somewhat shorten the yoke, then allow me to attach long sleeves, then either wear this with a camisole type top or closing the front to make a pullover.  I’m sure I can do either thing and I do have two more skeins of Valley Yarn’s Prescott which I would LOVE to feel on the bare skin of my arms and shoulders… This stuff is SO soft, but unfortunately is discontinued yarn.  Oh geez.  Just realized that before I can close up the front of this, I’ll have to take out and reknit the five stitch garter bands on both sides of the front…. eeeeek~!  Oh well… I’d do it for that fine 100% alpaca softness.

Another quickie project (and last-minute or no reason) is what I call “Neck of Zebra,” a long black and white striped cowl which can be worn long or short.  100% Cotton gives this a feeling-really-good soft feel.  Dotted throughout are gigantic puffs of cotton.  I used US sized 11 needles just because of these puffs and I probably should’ve used larger, except the skinny parts of this yarn are really skinning.  All in all a really nice effect.

DSCN3035

 

I Hoard Pins…..


I go to Pinterest whenever.  Whenever I am looking for a recipe or want to learn how to do something.  I need to waste some time?  Pinterest.

Me on Pinterest.… Oh, have you seen the cute new media icons you can click on to find me around the web.  Check it out up on top, and over to the right.  They are peeking out at you!

Daily Prompt: Ready Set… GO


Set a timer for ten minutes. Open a new post. Start the timer, and start writing. When the timer goes off, publish. 

My first thought was, “yeah, open a can of worms.”  But, I’ll slip past THAT and move on to an accomplishment of last night.  I finally finished knitting the Tappan Zee Cardigan, sweetly called “Tappan ME” on my Ravelry project page.  It’s something that I’m really, really pleased with how it came out.  After blocking, I will do a more detailed post.  Oh.  This is the perfect time to start a pattern that is part of my New Year’s Resolution, which I hardly ever make, but I’ve been planning this pattern for over a year and I even have the yarn required.  It’s called Shipwreck…. Isn’t she pretty?  It requires beads being knitted into it, but I think they don’t come until the middle part.  I can start this, commit myself to it, and have a little time to get the beads.

Another thought is the anticipation of my next crochet group gathering (as we’ve come to call it) in Brooklyn with my Posse.  Yes, I have a posse, people!  We meet once a month, but oooh, the last time I saw most of these ladies was back in October and that wasn’t even with half of our people.  I’m planning on being there this Saturday, though, and will probably drive into Brooklyn early just to cruise around my old neighborhood.  Yep, I’m a Brooklyn girl, born and raised.

Wow.  I’m HUNGRY~!   Need. to. eat.

Sweet Sixteen… 43 Years in the Making


Life is ComplicatedWhen you were 16, what did you think your life would look like? Does it look like that? Is that a good thing?

Wow.  Something for me to think about.  In a way, my life has turned out exactly as I thought it would at sixteen, but the downside is that it took me just about 30 years to get here.

My life is a good one, but it definitely has not shaped up as I had envisioned way back when.  Growing up in the seventies did not provide hope to this sheltered, painfully shy girl.  I grew up with the understanding that all girls get married and stay home to raise a family, period.  Not one thought rested on the idea of going to college and having a career because back then the only career open to women was to be a secretary… or so I thought.  Career Day in high school didn’t have anything directed toward us girls.  I loved science, but was woefully inept in anything but the very basics in math.  I just did not get it and it was my understanding that to be able to do anything in science, you needed to be good in the higher math which was calculus, chemistry, geometry, ALGEBRA… Well, it was hard work, but I did eventually pass algebra and I needed a tutor to just pass geometry.  I just didn’t get it and that dashed my hopes of ever pursuing a career in the sciences.  So, with my illustrious science career raking in the coals, I turned my attention to the Domestic Engineer, meaning wife and mother to some very lucky guy… heh.

There was just one problem.  I was not high on the list of conquest for any male my age. Those suckers!  But I digress.  I did work at a series of clerical jobs, none of which I could deem “career worthy,” yet I managed to learn a lot during those years.  Lessons that I would carry with me throughout my life.  Well, to make a life long story short, at the age of 42, I finally met and married my husband and we now have a seven year old boy who, I’m sure, is the love of both of our lives… outside of each other, that is.  I have the life now that I had envisioned for myself–34 years later!   Ironically enough, I am a stay-at-home mom, but sadly looking for work at this time.  Back in the seventies it was the accepted norm… and expected that women would have their babies and stay home.  Now, after a couple of decades of women keeping their jobs after having babies, more women are returning back to the old ways of staying home with their broods.

I actually love being home.  My son is going to school full-time and I do have the whole day to myself, basically, to do whatever I choose whether it be cleaning or just writing this blog.  I volunteer at different places and last week I had that extra time to drive quite a ways to teach seniors how to crochet.  If I had a nine to five, I definitely could not do that.  I value my time and love to give it to volunteer where needed.  I spend a lot of time doing research on autism since our son was diagnosed with it when he was six years old.  However, I am in a position right now where we need me to go to back to work.  I find myself at actually another fork in the road, mentally.  I am loath to the idea for many reasons.  One being I feel I need to be home for the “just in case” something happens in school and I need to be called.  Huh?  Yeah, this is not something that would happen on a regular basis, let alone a tremendous long shot of it happening even once.  Another reason is that I am hating the corporate world right now and the devalued status of employees now-a-days, in general.  Everyone is dispensable.  Companies are almost looking for a reason to fire you almost as soon as they hire them.  Get the job done for cheaper, and no employee is safe from being cut from the ranks.  So this is the frame of mind I have right now concerning prospective employers.  On the other side of the coin, I really need to chip in right now and find a job that brings in some money and we also desperately need medical insurance.  This month, I’ve been putting in applications, taking online tests and what have .  I don’t have the luxury right now to take a part-time job.  DH is  Still, waiting for his degree from which the graduation is listed as Jan. 20th 2013 on the university’s registrars’ web page.  I know that we have not heard anything from the university, yet they have our money for graduation for over a semester now.  grrrr, another tangent.

As I look at all these words, I realize that no matter how confident I think that I am, I have fear in me.  My view of the working world out there is that they carry standards too high for me to live up to.  A lot has changed since I was a young person out there in the real working world.  A world that was and still is a very intimidating place.  Inside me I know that I have a lot to give, but freak out while wondering what an employer will expect of me now, in this day and age where youth is celebrated over the older, more experienced person… especially a woman.  I feel pressured to present myself in the youngest possible light and that is not so easy anymore.  I have more aches and pains than when I was in my 20’s, 30’s, heck even 40’s.  I have more outside-the-job responsibilities than I had back then, too.  I now have a school aged child that needs me at home when he gets here.  Back then, I could win an employer over with my receptivity of staying later than my quitting time.  I always stayed until I got the job done.  I just don’t have that freedom any longer.  Ah so, I’ll have to close.  I can ruminate about this all day, but I’ve got to let this go at some point.

Have a great day and keep warm!


I thought I would take the opportunity today to talk about the added significance of this Federal Holiday. You see, it’s a personal holiday for me, too. This is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. The day we commemorate a great man who gave his life so that EVERYONE could be truly free in this “free” country of ours called the United States of America. A man whose life was wasted, taken away from him, BUT his life was not wasted. This country started out with a great foundation, but those ideals were actively held back from the population of this country who were not white. The black people who had helped make this country what it was. Black people who fought along side the whites so that this country could be free from British rule, but they were also fighting for their own personal freedom.

As I said earlier, this is also a personal day, the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday of Jan. 2005 will never be forgotten by myself or my family. This was the very day that we found out about my “late” pregnancy. A day that is written in our history and in my soul. I am reblogging a post that I wrote way back when as a private post, then made it public but did not tag it to sort of keep it under the radar. Today I reblog it with categories and tags because, well, it’s my contribution for the day. I couldn’t ask for a better day to have the door to my future open up wide and loud. It was this day that God’s plan started to unfold for me, my purpose in life was finally revealed. Now that I look back, so appropriate that his name would be Gabriel.

Back in 2005, I read somewhere that the definition of Gabriel was “strength of God.” Very simple. But if you think about it further, it was the Archangel Gabriel who came to Mary to announce the birth of Jesus, he appeared to Zechariah to announce the birth of John (the Baptist). I am reassured I chose the perfect name for our little Life-Changer.

So without further ado, I present our birth story:  (oops, the link is above)

DragonMommie's World

August 23, 2005 ~ Written in Yahoo 360 blog

It’s 11:50AM and I am expecting Gabriel to wake up from his nap any minute. Nothing out of the ordinary today; but later we will go shopping for a crib. Gabriel has almost outgrown his cradle, the one in Ed’s family for a generation. All his brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews have been in it, and now, our son. We hope the tradition is carried on by the kids. This weekend we will be going to Ed’s sister’s house, so I probably will not blog over the weekend. We want to bring back the cradle when we go, hence the crush to get a crib this week.

Gabriel has been such an unexpected blessing in our lives.

First of all, we didn’t even find out I was pregnant until I was almost 7 months along. I experienced no symptoms…

View original post 1,737 more words

Daily Prompt: You Asked for it…


Describe your last attempt to learn something that did not come easily to you.

Okay, this doesn’t really answer the question above, but I’m keeping it here.  I suppose, though, that one must learn this as much as any other skill out there… so here goes:

The thing that is very hard for me to do is find a job.  No matter what, no matter when.  I’ve always had a hard time going through the process. I am the proverbial “Jack of all trades, master of none.”   I have tons of experience, but I’ve not been working for almost seven years, not counting a few months working as a part-time cashier at Shoprite.  I have a pretty decent working history, except for those 7 years, and varied experience, got along with everyone, always gave 120%, loyal, a worker, a rule person…. that is to say I never abused breaks and always finished the current task before even thinking about going home.  Wouldn’t you want to hire me?  Sadly folks, these are not desirable traits anymore.  Nobody wants to see these things listed on a resume.  They are now assumed.  A lot of experience and skills are assumed now, like working with computers and programs.  It used to be great to have this kind of experience on a resume, but that was back in the 70’s and 80’s.  Man I feel so freaking old right now.

My first experience with computers was back when I worked for the US Army in the Transportation Department at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn, NY.   We transported all personal belongings, from freight to contents of whole houses.  I learned computer basics and transferred a whole paper-based file system onto a database and got it to automatically send out various letters to clients.  They offered me the position of supervisor of the “whole” department, but I was the only one in that department because the two other people who trained with me bailed.  Long story, short my ex-husband pressured me to leave there and go to work in the city, Manhattan.  It was the worst decision I made, but then he had made it for me and I suffered for it.  From having job security to going from one job to another because nothing fit right.  Ah, experience, right?

Anyway, over the years I’ve done lots of things and the one I loved the most, and had room for growth was customer service in the billing dept. at a Labcorp call center, but that was THE most stressful job I ever had, and certainly can not do that again.  That was my first experience of feeling betrayed by an employer.  They led us on, talked about a new space being built for us, for years.  Then it finally got built and nine months later, we all got canned.  They dissolved our department and God knows, probably outsourced it to foreign country for all I know.

Anyway, that is part of my problem.  I value myself a lot.  It’s ingrained in me to be loyal to a company, to basically give myself to an employer and do whatever they want me to do for that paycheck.  I mean, no questions asked.  I am the person who ALWAYS has the “why” word hanging off the tip of my lips, otherwise.  My first marriage broke up precisely because I could not follow the whims of my ex without knowing the whys, and without believing in his views.  That upset the man-child and he divorced me.  Well, I was never put into that exact situation professionally, but I’m a company person.  Back in the day, that meant something.  Now, they want your blood.  Companies today do not value their employees at all.  Everyone is indispensable.  One time I got fired because of my weight.  After having the job well over 2 years, I was brought in and was told that my appearance did not convey their image.  I was the receptionist at an office building, but not in the lobby… WAY back out of public view.  The parent company was a PARKING LOT/GARAGE company.  I wish I had the balls I have now, but back then.  Instead, I was crushed and vaporized out of that office after leaving a flood of tears all over the desk.  <spit>

I am finding it really hard to put myself out there now.  Not because of my body weight but because I don’t want to give my valuable time to just anyone.  They have to deserve me, you know?  I just don’t believe I’ll find a good situation where I’ll be valued.  I guess that’s it right there.  Of course, I still will need to find a job, and the best paying one with benefits that I can…. but it’s making me cry inside.  What am I going to have to do to get something?  Oh, my friends try to help and they send me job opportunities they see around, but mostly, I need medical benefits and, well, good money.  I also need to work around DH’s work schedule… well, that’s when he gets one.

Something else, is that I need a local job.  I need to be available for my child and need to be home for him after school.  Living in Elizabeth, NJ does not help that one bit.  First and foremost, I have two strikes against me before I even fling myself into the game.  I am not bilingual. and I need to be home well before a normal job would let their people out.  Also, maybe the third strike is that I would need to leave by a certain time, without the option of staying later if needed.  Oh how they love to keep you working past quitting time.

Oh shit.  I’m quite aware that this should not be my mental state while trying to woo a prospective employer, but this is what it is.  Personally, I would love to find a great situation, contributing my talents, skills and creativity to getting a job done.   I love that I just wrote quite a few paragraphs about why I shouldn’t “apply” myself… HA.  I have a lot of fear of the unknown.  Fear that I’m not good enough anymore.  Fear that I was never any good and maybe I was deluding myself and exaggerating my value.  Oh my God.  Yeah, I should just trust in Him to get me a  job…. a Good one.

So yeah.  The hardest thing I ever had to do, and I don’t do it nearly as well as I should is finding a job.

Tips and Tricks…


Tips and Tricks...

See the winder up on the bookcase? Want to wind your yarn, all at once, or maybe two passes? Don’t want to fiddle with it? Lay it out all over the house first.

What i do is hang the opened hank around my neck and start unwinding it and laying it on the floor, over laundry baskets, beds, etc. Oh, and make sure you do not overlap the strands as you’re doing so. Make sure you have a clear path from your laid out yarn and the winder. my apartment has all wood trim around the doorways and it’s pretty old, so I need to make sure that my yarn will not snag on it. if your place is snag-less around the thresholds, then go at it! I love watching the yarn get swept up super fast, though sometimes that can be a problem. You’ll get into the groove after a few times.

Wind ‘er up, baby!

Important Note:

Remember do not do this when the boy is present in the house….

A WordPress Exercise


No lights?  Light some candles.

No lights? Light some candles.

Okay, so I thought I could answer prompt questions thrown out by WordPress to keep blogging, even if it’s just a little bit.  We’ll see, usually my “little” blurbs grow into monstrosities.  First one up:

Honestly evaluate the way you respond to crisis situations. Are you happy with the way you react?

I jumped on this question right away because I can honestly say that I’m not happy with the initial way I react to crisis situations, or at least some of them.  What comes to mind right away is Hurricane Sandy.  We live in Elizabeth, NJ and had lost power for 10 days.  We ONLY lost power and had no flooding in the basement to speak of.  Immediately, I felt isolated in the dark and a bit scared when the power didn’t go back on right away.  We are used to the power going off, but never had gone more than a few hours without it coming back on.

After the fear (I never got over the isolation), I started to get angry.  Angry because I was hearing about everyone else getting power back and we were not slated to get ours back any time soon.  The feeling isolation was profound and something I had not felt since after my divorce and was forced to take up residence in a succession of rooms.  After the storm, no power, no phone.  I had a cell phone, but could not make calls.  I needed to connect with the outside world, my family, but I couldn’t.  Eventually, I discovered that I could do text messages and texted my family to relay our situation, inquire of theirs and hoping that I would hear back from them.

Forever tuned to NJ101.5, this radio was my lifeline to the outside world.

Forever tuned to NJ101.5, this radio was my lifeline to the outside world.

We had a radio and I latched onto that all day and night to hear news about the storm.  The station I listened to was NJ101.5 and at the time just didn’t buy into the “just be grateful” speech.  I wanted my power back, but really?  I wanted my internet back.  I feel ashamed, but that’s what it was.  I resented not having my internet.  I really don’t know why.  When I look at the things I do when online, I can’t see what is so important.  Also, our whole routine was disrupted, mainly our son was not in school for 10. whole. days.   That’s a LOT of days.

What refused to come into my sphere of any importance were the people who were REALLY affected.  Those who lost family and friends, who lost their homes, clothes and possessions…..lost memories.  Those who had no idea where their next meal was coming from.   Traumatic stuff that forces a realistic perspective.  I had my family and that really should have been enough for me.  It was hanging off my peripheral consciousness, but I was too hyped up.  Much too much caught up in the stories I was listening to on the radio and applying them to myself.

I can only pray that I have learned from this.  I am not going to “say” that I’ve learned from this because how many times do we say that, then the next time the so called definitive lesson eludes us and we jump right back into that trench.  A good thing to do to keep it into the forefront is to just keep thinking about it.  Think about the petty way that I reacted to this situation.  I say “situation” because it wasn’t a real tangible crisis.  We managed.  We kept warm.  We took hot showers…. That’s right, because we didn’t flood, our hot water heater was not affected.   On the coldest night, we all slept in the same bed.  HA… there I was thinking that DH and I were going to keep our seven year old warm and he was the one who kept us warm!  We had gas, so the stove was available, but after the food was gone two days later, we had to drive to other towns to get our food every day.  Was that so horrible?  Looking back, I cannot think that it was.

I really have to learn to stop, breath, and think things through.  I’m such a baby sometimes, which brings my thoughts back to someone in my past who told me just about as much and that I needed some growing up to do.  I guess I will never stop growing up and that is somewhat of a comfort.  My challenge to myself is to start being more mindful of not just my external environment, but my internal environment.

If after this, you’d like to read more about the details of our storm situation, you can go to the links below:

Day Nine Post Sandy

Who Turned on That Light

Frankenstorm Sandy Continues

Halloween and Frankenstorm Sandy

Winding Down the Days Post Sandy

Stormy Reflections

Imperfectly Perfect

%d bloggers like this: