The Countdown

I return to work Monday. Monday. It no longer requires a qualifier. I don't have to say Monday the 25th, a week from Monday, or even next Monday. Its just Monday.

My leave has been extraordinarily generous, and I'm sort of surprised to find myself here. The time has been slipping away from me.

I have four months.

... the end of October.

.... on the 25th.

... a week from Monday.

And now, its just "Monday."

So, I'm having the second, third and fourth thoughts that most (every?) mother has in the last days of a dwindling maternity leave. And this despite the fact that I am so blessed. I have options and choices so many mothers don't have. (I know; I really do.) My employer has agreed to let me return half time. I can afford to be choosy about child care, and I am being incredibly so. She'll be 16 weeks old. Even the choice to return is mine; I don't have to do this at all.

And yet...

My mantra this week: I don't have to do this. If it doesn't work for our family, I can change my mind. We'll just see how it goes.

Seriously?

I found this in my drafts - a post I wrote in August and then never finished. It still made me laugh, and shake my head in disbelief, so I decided to publish it now for your entertainment. And maybe you can tell me where I can move that I won't have to deal with fleas.

(Assistant on the phone behind our examining room.)

Okay, that's a tape worm you saw. We can give you something for her.

.....

No, they're not transmitted between pets. They get them from fleas.

.....

Well, fleas are very, very small. If you look around the base of her tail, you'll see little black specks. Those are fleas.

At this point, I pick my jaw up off the floor at the idea someone doesn't know what fleas look like and leave the room with the tech for a different test. I am gone for two or three full minutes, and when I get back she is suggesting he bring the dog in the next morning and she'll show him what a flea looks like.

(Assistant to the Tech who has gone back)

He's going to bring her in tomorrow, so we can give him dewormer and show him what a flea looks like.

He really didn't know what a flea looks like?

No, he said that he saw them when he went to the dog park; that they were flying around there.

Um, yeah. If its flying around, its not a flea.

I'm still thinking about it, and trying to figure out how it is that a dog owner doesn't know what fleas look like. He can't be from Florida. Are there really places where you own animals and can't identify a flea?

Dreams Deferred

I have so many sewing projects swimming around in my imagination.  

There's the adorable kimono-inspired outfit for the new baby who will be joining us in Octoberish.  After all, my friends were kind enough to give me the girl I requested.  I have to make some adorable clothes for her.  (I love their little boy, but boys just aren't as much fun to sew clothes for.)

I've also been planning a gym bag for myself.  Something that will keep my shoes separate from my clothes, contain my card and lock so I can actually find them without fishing around the bottom of the bag and hopefully look a whole lot cuter than the conference freebie I am currently using.

And last night, as I was hunting through a messy drawer for the right size knitting needle, I was dreaming of a simple circular needle holder.

Oh, and I bought fabric for a quilt for my aunt way back in the Spring.  I'm just now feeling like I may have the courage to try my hand at the pattern.  (Curved seams.  Scary.)

Yep, lots of big plans for me and my sewing machine.  And with just a few short weeks before we leave on vacation, what am I doing with my only evening at home for the week?  Not sewing, that's for sure.  My leg, my right leg - my sewing machine pedal leg - is still hurting.  Really hurting.  There's no way I can run the machine tonight hurting.

So, while I dream of sewing, I'm knitting.  Knitting swatches.  Still.   

Impatient is my middle name.

Startitis: the compulsive desire to cast on new knitting projects. 

I seem to have the opposite of startitis.  My least favorite part of a knitting project is the getting started.  I hate the endless knitting of gauge swatches while I figure out which size needles I need to use.  And pointing out to myself that this is indeed knitting, the exact activity I want to be doing, doesn't seem to change that feeling.  I don't particularly like the first rows of a project either.  I don't like the fiddliness of getting it established.  What I like is the body of the knitting, after the pattern is well established and before all the finishing and weaving in of ends. 

Unfortunately, I also like to complete projects.  It takes me 9 months to finish a sweater, and quite frankly that's enough of a test of my patience.  My enthusiasm for the project definitely begins to wane if it doesn't keep changing, and if there is no end in sight.  You will not see me casting on for an afghan any time soon.  Which means that I do finish my projects and so, if I want to keep knitting, I eventually have to start new ones.

That's where I'm at today.  I've finished all my projects.  So, last week I ordered yarn to make a tank top from Knitting in the Sun and sock yarn for a purse project.  I really like having a small, portable project in addition to my primary project, so I want to get started with both.  But, both are new yarns to me and that means figuring out gauge is taking awhile.  I'm very impatient with this.  I just want to be knitting the projects now.  I'm actually tempted to just cast on for the tank, having come pretty close to gauge with my last try, and I probably would except that I don't own needles in the size I'll need for the ribbing.  Of course.  

So, I'll be starting another episode of Kyle XY and knitting swatches tonight.

Finding my Touchstone

When I left for college, I was a small town girl. All of my memories were rooted in the same community, where I knew someone around every corner and always had family nearby. The first few weeks away were rough. I was miserably homesick and the 2 1/2 hours between school and home felt so far. Then I was walking across campus on a beautiful September day and I felt this bubble of contented happiness well up deep inside. At that moment, I knew I had made the right choice and was where I needed to be.

I've felt that bubble again over the years. Shortly after moving to D.C. and meeting Alex, it came as I was walking down the sidewalk to shop at Eastern Market. A year or two in to law school, watching the lights come on in my neighborhood on a cold Fall evening. Walking the dog around my apartment complex back here in Florida. Its my touchstone, that feeling, my signal that I'm making the right choices in my life. That the world is simply right. Not an every day thing, but a little message from myself that I hear in moments of peace.

Last week I realized I haven't felt that bubble in quite a while. Instead, I've been feeling a nagging disquiet. Nothing is wrong, but I wasn't entirely sure it was right either. Too often irritable voices have snapped out at one another, leaving bruised feelings that never quite have a chance to completely heal. Too many work concerns have followed us home, intruding and casting a shadow. Life has felt too full, too uncertain - too much. My attempts at something different have provided only momentary relief, followed by frustration when the simple task of choosing dinner leaves us in our separate corners. I've started to think again about what I would do if I left my job, what the after might be if this job I have loved is becoming a weight I can't bear. To reconsider choices and wonder if its time to adjust our plans, but with no idea what the alternative might be.

And then we spent this weekend at the beach, just the two of us away from everyone. It wasn't the clean escape I had hoped; those irritable voices managed to find us there. But, it was a chance to find our rhythm again. Lying together watching an afternoon storm rage on the ocean, holding hands as we walked on a quiet beach at night, listening to live music in a smoky bar - none of it planned but simply unfolding. The next morning I took my coffee out on the beach and walked by myself there in the quiet, alone with nature. And in that moment of peace, my touchstone welled within me. All is well.

Its reassuring, this knowledge that my disquiet is superficial. That what resides deep within is happiness. I can't be done looking for the shift that will put things in place; I know that. Superficial disquiet can become something deeper if I don't respond to the message being sent. But, it helps to know I'm playing with the right pieces.

Summer Pace

The air is heavy and dense with humidity, hanging on your skin and slowing your steps. My usually brisk work day pace giving way to the recognizable stroll of the south. This, I believe, is the reason for the southern drawl and our famous (or at least infamous) lazy pace. When the very air creates resistance to your movement, you might as well take a moment to smile at that stranger or stop to chat with the neighbor. You're not going anywhere fast anyway. And when you do, you learn you're getting where you're going anyway.

Of course, air conditioning is changing that. You keep moving to get to that blessedly cool air, to breathe a little more easily. I'm not going to shake my fist at technology. I am glad for the relief of air condition and remember the years I lived without it with a touch of awe. But, I want to remember the natural rhythm of life too, the value of a slower pace now and again.

Live Life

I was standing in line at the grocery tonight, when I couldn't help but notice the unusual progress of a cart going by.  Two little ones were hanging on the back, 'pushing' with one foot while Mom tried to push from the side.   They were adorable and I laughed out loud at their sheer pleasure in the game.  To her credit, their Mom heard me and met my eyes with a twinkling laugh of her own, clearly more amused by the antics of her kids than aggravated by the snail's pace of their progress.  Not that there wasn't a touch of resignation in that look, mind you.

I've learned that too much attention to what kids are doing in public tends to embarrass parents, so I returned my attention to my line.  But a few moments later it was drawn back by calls of "and now we bow, and now we bow!"  And there was the little girl making exaggerated, careful bows - grinning when she saw I was smiling at her.  Her brother took a little prompting, but he joined in and soon they were both hamming it up for me.  

They were so free, their fun enhanced by the audience rather than inhibited.  It was a pleasure to watch them, and I find myself thinking about them alot tonight.

Paying the Piper

Our taxes went in to the mail April 15th.  Tax day itself.  We have never pushed it so late before.

Sabine's quilt (above) was given to her on her birthday, and her mom loved it.  (Sabine, being one, was more interested in the balloons than any of her gifts.)  It was then promptly returned to me, at my request, so that I could quilt all of the flowers and not just the yellow ones.  That marked the first time I gave an unfinished gift.  I'm still trying to finish it for her.

Saturday will be the second, and I'm taking it to all new heights.  My friend will be receiving balls of yarn and about four inches of a Baby Surprise Sweater at her baby shower.  It would have been a little more, but last night I realized I had to pull out two inches because I failed to increase at the proper time.  Since she doesn't knit, I may buy her a gift for Saturday and then give her the sweater when its, you know, actually a sweater.

We're not going to discuss work and the deadlines looming there.  Or the ones I have already missed.

I think its safe to say that I got a wee bit behind schedule with this busy spring.  But, I am slowly digging myself out, one deadline at a time.

Hibernating

We're headed in to our third night of freezing temperatures. Around here, that's an event. An annual event, but an event nonetheless. Typically, when we say 'its freezing out there,' we don't actually mean its freezing.   But, right now we do, and it means covering large swaths of my plants with sheets, a call from the landscaper to make sure that I had covered them, and enlisting the help of the neighbor to pick all the grapefruit off the tree.  Well, all the grapefruit except those in the highest branches I consider the squirrels' share.    (Seriously good haul for all of us this year, about two dozen already.) Yard secured, vegetable stew cooked, fire built - we are officially hibernating.

You know, I vaguely remember a time when my yard was always covered with ice and snow by late January, where I watched for blizzard warnings, and had an ice scraper handy in my car. The dog even went for walks in the snow and knew that it was possible to potty before the temperatures rose above 40. Neither that girl nor that dog live around here these days. We consider this very cold, and the fact that the heat is (still) broken gives us license to curl up on the couch with the down comforter and refuse to move.  Fortunately, the boy still harbors a love for the cold weather and is willing to indulge us.

You'd think, then, that this would be prime crafting time.  Not much sewing would be getting done, what with that whole refusing to move off the couch thing, but definitely knitting, right?  Yeah, not so much.  Instead, I'm all about a lazy novel and a glass of wine.  And since you can't hold a book or a glass of wine while knitting, well not much knitting is getting done.  The sweater sleeve crawls along at a snails pace, though, and I'm okay with it.  Right now, reading a trashy novel with my cuddly dog, warm comforter and cool glass of wine is working for me.  We're hibernating.  See you when the weather warms up. (You know, like 24 hours from now.)

Not Here

Look over here.  My first guest post!  

Workin' 10 to 4

A local yarn shop moved to a new location this week.  Their new shop is right between my office and my home, so I was pretty excited about the move.  Or at least I was until I checked their shop hours: Monday through Saturday 10 to 4, with extended hours on Wednesday.  Until 6:00.  6:00 is late? To whom, exactly, are they planning to sell their yarn?   

I think I want their work day, though.  

Its about the big stuff.

I believe in our system of justice absolutely and wholeheartedly.

"We must remember that a right lost to one is lost to all." -William Reece Smith, Jr.

I believe the State must prove its case, and the defense must insist it do so.

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

I believe that our laws and procedures exist for a reason, and that they are right and good.

"It is better that ten guilty escape than one innocent suffer." - William Blackstone

I believe that protecting the liberties of the guilty is the only way to protect the liberties of us all.

"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." -Benjamin Franklin

I believe our system gets it right most of the time.

But today, when common sense lost out to the rule of law and nothing worked as it should... Today, I feel a little sympathy with those who would convict first and ask questions later, I won't tomorrow. But, for today I do.

ETA: Sorry, guys, this wasn't a world event or even a news worthy event. Just a really bad day in court for me that needed to spill out. Thanks for the shoulder.

Just Keeping Up

Whew, what a week! Its been one of those where the world seems to be spinning faster and you are running just to keep up. Fortunately, it seems I kept up since I didn't spin off in to space. I think it was a close one, though.

We've had alot going on over here. The good - a fun trip to the beach, two chances to hang out with my sister and her boyfriend, a visit from Alex's family, an evening out with friends we haven't seen in weeks. And the not so good - a sick day for Alex and work stuff we won't talk about. (Nothing drastic, mind you, just a month's worth of minor hassles that decided to pile themselves all in to a week.)

I've finally finished processing all the photos from the weekend away, and I'll tell you about that soon. But today, I'm going to try and just finish out this week. Church, a quick trip to a neighboring town to try and find a kid I need to talk to, and then my bible study seems enough on the schedule for a Sunday. Oh, and Alex has requested I make my special cabbage recipe, so a bit of pleasure cooking.

And maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to finish the last four or five repeats on this scarf. The crazy week saw me knitting a good bit in stolen minutes, grounding myself with the simple rhythm of yarn and needles. And as a result, the shawl needs only a tiny bit more attention to be done. I love it and can't wait to see what happens to the linen after its washed and dried. I expect it to be so soft and lovely.

Never Get Too Comfortable

I thought I had learned the lesson that, just as soon as you get comfortable in your job and think you know what you're doing you'll get a curve ball that sends you scrambling for the books feeling like the biggest novice ever.   I really thought I knew that - I was prepared for the little quirk that makes this case different from every other case you've handled, this person react dramatically different from all the others you supervise or today's schedule completely different than you thought it would be when you walked in this morning.  Stay flexible, think on your feet and avoid the routine that becomes a rut because it will mess. you. up.  Got it, lesson learned.

But, there was one area I hadn't counted in to that equation.  The one place I'd gotten a little too comfortable  - our technology.  I'm fairly computer literate and definitely comfortable getting around our programs, and I've always easily adjusted to changes and quickly figured out how to get what I needed.  So,  I wasn't worried when they came this morning to take my computer away and replace it with a brand spanking new one.  A laptop in a docking station?  Portability, for someone who works outside of the actual office a good half the time, if not more?  Cool!  The newest version of Windows Professional XP looks different than what we've had?  Eh, not a big deal.  Heck, I move between a PC and a Mac every time I go from work to home.  I'll be fine.

Famous last words.  I spent five minutes - literally five minutes - trying to figure out how to "save as" today.  Not to some strange document type - just saving it to a new location. Five minutes.  My legal assistant came in and looked over my shoulder trying to see what she should do.  (They haven't spirited away her computer yet.)  Finally, feeling like a dunce, I clicked on help and asked the computer how to save my document.  Turns out that to find most of the functions that used to be under 'file' I now have to click on a symbol that I took to just be a logo.  O-kay.  Not feeling so computer literate now.  And so it went all day.  Can't figure out where the find function is to look for that name in the Excel spreadsheet?  Help.  Need to strike through a name in that chart?  Help.  And I didn't even have to do anything that would have caused me to stop and think in the old version.

Half way through the morning I walked in to my colleague's office and told her not to let them touch her computer until we finish the Brief that's due next week.  We need at least one computer where we know how to set up the Table of Authorities, and the fact that I'm still figuring out how to save is not a good sign.

I Take the Strategies Where I Find 'Em

Somewhere along the line, trying to describe my day at work, I made the comment that "supervising can be a lot like parenting."  (Mind you - in a lot of ways its not, too.  There is an escape clause in supervising - one that noone can arrest me for.)  It's an analogy that has occurred to me often since I first made it, and I've decided its a lot like parenting a teenager, specifically.

Today was another perfect example.  I spent 15 minutes listening to "Jane" vent her frustration with her secretary under the guise of asking me how to help handle the situation.  Recognizing that she really just needed to be heard, I refrained from pointing out that I told her last week how we were going to handle the situation and what steps she needed to take for us to be able to do so.  She wasn't ready to problem solve; she just needed to say it.  However, after I allowed her to vent, I pointed out something we are going to have to handle slightly differently because of a problem she has had.  She abruptly ended the conversation by saying "I just need to go home," throwing open the door of my office and walking out on me... Alrighty then.  I suppose I'll add that to the agenda for our meeting later this week, right along with the fact that she is a month late with a report - which is ironically similar to the problems she has with her secretary.  

Of course, I will have to spend some time figuring out how to address these issues in a way that she can hear and respond to.  I spend alot of time doing that, too, trying to figure how to give feedback in a way that will work for that person.  Mentoring them towards new skills or a change in approach, without lowering self-esteem or creating a feeling of hopelessness.  Finding the approach that works for this person, because goodness knows what worked for that other person won't be it.  (Again, with needing the parenting skills.)

Last week it was the peacemaking and ensuring good communication.  I spent a good half hour of my day sorting out a problem that turned out only to exist because two people who work as a team had a (thankfully rare) communication breakdown.  Once I sorted through the tangle with them and got them each to settle down, neither actually had a problem with how the other wanted the situation handled and there was an easy middle ground that they cheerfully took.  But, they needed help slowing down and listening to each other - and saying what they meant rather than just assuming the other person would understand.

And its very important that I somehow do this while still completely respecting that they are capable, intelligent, fully individualized people.  I can't baby them - its not good for them or me - nor can I (or should I) go behind them to ensure every little thing is done just so.  But, I have to keep tabs on what is going on well enough to know before a minor problem becomes a major disaster.  And I have to be able to tell when I should leave it alone and let them resolve it (because often they can) and when I need to step in.  Though, at least they often ask me to step in when the problem is building.  A teenager would never do that until its way too late... Boy, do I owe my Mom an apology for my teen years.  

(And, just for the record, I work with a team of talented, perfectly well adjusted adults.  It just adds up when there are a bunch of them, and a bunch of personalities having to work very closely together in stressful situations.)

Reflecting on the Three Rs

* This is what my Flowering Maple will look like when it grows up.

When I was a little girl, Earth Day was often a real celebration for us. My mother consciously taught us environmentalism and sustainability, though she called it "respect for the Earth." So, when Earth Day rolled around, it wasn't just another day. We participated in a tree planting ceremony, a trash pick up day or something of the sort. I wonder now where she found those events for us. They are good memories that have stuck with me, and a tradition I followed through college.

My Earth Day this year has been decidedly less deliberate, but its still been on my mind. We woke before the alarm this morning to the singing of the birds. They were raising such a ruckus - particularly the mockingbird who loves to trill - that we gave up and just got up to enjoy their Earth Day symphony. But, the celebration of the birds and the pretty logo on Google have pretty much been the extent of the external reminders today.

Instead, I've been reflecting a lot on my efforts to be respectful and what my next steps will be. A year or two ago, I began deliberately making small changes in my life to minimize my impact. We were already good about recycling and reusing. So, most of this has been reducing and about the products we use. So far, I've:
- developed the habit of using canvas grocery bags by going back for them when I forgot them
- begun using canvas bags (or no bag) for all my shopping, not just groceries
- created a compost pile (and then researched and re-established it when my original plan failed)
- switched to vegetable-based dish soap, dishwasher detergent, laundry detergent and shampoo
- minimized chemical use within the house and yard
- focused on spot watering the garden, when a full watering isn't needed (We have no lawn and I try to plant drought resistant plants anyway.)
- looked for local and/or organic produce and free range, chemical-free meat
- limited use of plastic water bottles to when we're out and carry them with me until I can recycle them
- found biodegradable pooper scooper bags and wax paper bags for storage at home to the extent practical
- considered reusable/practical wrapping for all gifts and used them when I came up with one

My goal was to identify little things that I could but that would be simple enough that they'd become a habit, adding them one at a time. It has honestly been much easier than I expected. They are small steps that easily became habit, and quite frankly the rule all along was that I'd be gentle with myself on those days I fell short of my goals. (I'm assuming I'm more likely to actually do these things most of the time if I don't make it about guilt or set the bar too high. Every little bit makes a difference, right?)

But, I haven't seen or heard anything new recently to move on to my list. We dream of a 'green' home at times, but I'm definitely not up for any major retrofitting at this point. And the problem that bothers me most is the one on which I've made the least progress - our water consumption. This is Florida, and fresh water is precious. (Again, I'm not ready for the retrofitting, so I will not be draining my washer from the second floor to the garden.)

So, I think I'll be spending my Earth Day evening researching. Any suggestions for where I should be looking? (Or for changes I could be making?)

The Human Barometer and Errors in Forecasting

Alex coined the phrase "human barometer" to describe my ability to identify a coming weather change, at times more accurately than the forecasts, based on how my body is behaving.  I suspect most people who've lived with RA awhile can, and its practically a cliche that you can once you have joint damage, be it arthritis or an old war wound.

But, my forecasting abilities can be a bit off, too.  Yesterday was a gorgeous, hot day with a bright blue sky and just a smattering of dark clouds in with the puffy white.  But in the afternoon , my joints were aching and my skin hyper-sensitive, so I thought for sure the dark clouds were going to build and it was going to rain.  When there had been no noticeable change in the weather by bedtime but I was still uncomfortable, I was down right put out about it.  Where was the rain?  And if it wasn't going to rain why was I suddenly hurting?  

This morning, I woke up to find temperatures dropped significantly during the night.  We only expect to get up to 60 (instead of 80) today and outlying areas around us may drop to 30 tonight (winter temps for us).  Ahh - that explains it.  I forgot to account for the possibility of a slow moving front.

Sometimes the human barometer is a bit off, too.

The Sleep Deprivation Without the Baby

I went to bed at 10:15 tonight and at 11:00 finally fell asleep curled around my cramping uterus. Alex came home at 1:15 and accidentally woke me up. (I am repeating the accidentally as a mantra at this point.) I was still awake when he came to bed at 1:30 and we talked - quietly - for a few minutes. He fell asleep at 1:35. Deeply, blissfully asleep. The dog between us, snoring. She, too, is deeply, blissfully asleep. An hour and a half and a disk of Harry Potter later, I gave up and got up.

Standing in the dark house, I developed what I thought was a plan for a soothing, peaceful environment that would allow me to go back to bed before long. Classical music on the radio and a little quilt basting of the T-shirt quilt. (Literally, just the binding to go!) Surely that will ease me back in to sleep. Nope. The basting is done, and I've squared up half the blocks of the baby quilt. Before it occurred to me that perhaps 4:00 in the morning wasn't the time to be cutting on the quilt. That can't be undone with a seam ripper. It is now 4:30 and I have no idea what to do with myself. I am so tired, but definitely not like I can actually sleep.

In half an hour, the morning news will come one and the classical music will be gone.

Tickling My Funny Bone

I'm listening to NPR and I just heard "The overnight forecast? Get out a quilt..." Hee, hee. I have a few of those now!

(I must be feeling better. Or I'm absolutely slap happy.)

Democracy in Action

Today is Election Day here in Florida.
So, I took my morning cup of coffee and walked up to my polling place.
And I voted.