Confessions

I've been silent intentionally about how things have been going with my new job, Although I've been working at it for going on five months, it's still very new to me. I think it'll be year or more before I truly have a grip on all that goes on in this extremely busy department. It's been tough going for me and I've spent many an evening in tearful regret over leaving my old job that I knew so well for this one where I'm so often clueless. Yes, it's true I was looking for a challenge, a change. To say I bit off a whole lot more than I can chew would be putting it mildly. I'd like to say that each each passing day it gets easier but that's not the case. It's more as if I stumble around in the fog for a time; suddenly the clouds lift and a few tasks become clear. A light goes on inside my head. It's hard to explain but it's something like that. I don't think I've ever had to say, "I don't know" so many times to so many people. It's not exactly a phrase that boosts self-confidence, believe me. It's been a humbling experience to go from being the top of the line to the bottom of the heap--the proverbial low man on the totem pole. It's been harder than I ever imagined to have gone from being the one who had a handle on just about everything that was going on, confident...complacent to she who knows precious little. I was the one whose mere presence could often bring reassurance to a resident. Of course, that didn't happen overnight but I seem to have forgotten the years I worked through to arrive at that secure position. Yet, I felt it was very necessary to give it up, to move out of that comfort zone. It was too secure, too comfortable.

For a brief time not so long ago, I was thinking seriously of giving up and returning to my old familiar job. One evening after a dinner with some friends, I poured out my unhappiness to a special friend and even as I mentioned the thought of possibly trying to get my old job back, I knew I would not, could not do this. My family would support whatever decision I made but to admit defeat not even six months into a new job would be something I just couldn't do. My pride would never allow such a thing to happen. Almost immediately after my outpouring of misery, my days at work began to get better. More and more things began to fall into place. Was this merely a coincidence? Was I just at a major turning point of understanding and acceptance and hadn't realized it yet? You'd think at my age I would've learned some patience and in many areas, I do have plenty but apparently not when it comes to living up to my personal expectations.

Not so long ago, I was committed to not rushing my life away, to savor every day but I must confess that these days I've been wishing that I could time warp myself into the future (say a year from now) to where I'd feel comfortable with all facets of my job and all it entails. I want to skip to the point when I can look back on all this and laugh at myself about feeling the way I do currently.

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

There we were, my husband, son and I, on the Saturday morning following the arrival of our visitor, now restored to his proper owner. We were collectively forlorn but guess what? This was the Saturday we had planned to go Christmas tree hunting and with heavy hearts we piled into the car, our usual enthusiasm less than evident. We visited the tree farm where we've found The Perfect Tree for over 20 years. We decided upon the very first tree we saw on our way up the hill to the back forty of the property. Yes, we looked a bit here and there and ran back and forth to compare trees but, in the end, that first tree was perfect. I believe we spent a record 30 minutes at the Christmas tree farm; clearly, our minds were on another matter. On the way home, we passed an animal shelter, the question of whether or not we wanted to pursue finding another cat to call our own was posed and a unanimous yes resounded within the car. My husband turned into the shelter only to find it wasn't open to the public for another two hours. Drat. Our own town has an animal shelter and I knew it would be open when we got back there. We stopped by home, dropped off the tree and drove to the shelter. It was understood that finding and adopting a new kitty would be the family Christmas gift.

Bolstered with the knowledge that our cat really seemed to enjoy having another cat in the house, we trooped into the shelter and made our intentions known. We were led through a door and shown the "cat room" in which a large assortment of cats were housed, all appearing to be under a year old. The three of us slipped through the gate and waited to see what would happen. Some kitties rushed over to greet us, tumbling over one another in their excitement and joy to see a friendly human. Maybe these were the ones who would take us home? Others cast a lazy eye in our direction and many simply ignored us. It was so difficult to choose. We each zeroed in on a cat that appealed to us, traded them around and continued in this fashion for some time.

We were looking for a potential lap kitty--a cat who would be very happy to snuggle with us and want nothing more than accept the love and attention we had to give. Our beautiful Finnegan is a dear but he tends to be somewhat aloof a lot of the time. He loves us, I know, but prefers to hang out nearby. One of our prerequisites for the potential new pet was a cat who would purr easily and often and love being held. My husband spotted her first; a beautifully marked little cat who melted and molded into his arms and began to purr contentedly when he picked her up. After a time, she was passed to me. I got the same response and then I set her down on the floor. My son picked her back up and she repeated this performance. It was very hard to ignore the small black kitten that settled companionably on my shoulder as well as the darling bit of gray fluff that my son had been playing with. We finally decided the little affectionate female was the one for us. All the cats had paper collars of blue or pink to indicate their sex. They'd all been given names, too. Our choice was Camille; an approximate seven month old with a nice enough name but this would soon change.

Next, we had to fill out a lengthy application and were informed that an appointment would be made promptly to spay the cat after which she'd return to the shelter for two days to make sure she was healing properly. She would then be ready for us to pick her up and bring her home. Due to our work schedules, it wasn't until the following Saturday that we brought the newest member of the family home. Once again, our number one cat kept his distance for a day or two and then, in no time at all, the two were getting along just fine. When the day came that I noticed two furry little heads bent down sharing one food dish, I knew for certain all would be well. Our home is now graced with two wonderful cats; our regal, handsome Finnegan who knows exactly how impressive he is and our new addition, Nefertiri who resembles an Egyptian Mau somewhat; hence the name.

Somewhere along the line my husband and I became cat people. We used to be confirmed dog lovers. Is this yet another sign of getting older? We still love dogs but it's with a smile on my face that I write "but cats are so much easier to deal with..."

(Confidential to lisaram:  No fair!  You guessed.  You just knew this was coming, didn't you?)

The Visitor

The day after Thanksgiving which, miracle of miracles, I had off from work, I awoke to the sound of plaintive mewing outside the window. This went on for some time and I finally hoisted myself up to look out to see what was responsible for the sound. I was greeted with a sweet little kitty face peering over the fence which separates our neighbor's carport area from our house. At present the neighboring house is vacant and on the market. The sounds this little cat was making made me wonder if it may be hurt or stuck or something. I decided to go out the side door and investigate. For the past several weeks, we'd been entertaining the idea of getting another cat to keep our Finn company. It bothered me that he had to spend so much time alone while my son was at school and we were at work. I'd read in several places that Siamese are very social animals and their well being benefits greatly from the company of another cat.

With these thoughts in my head, I walked next door, all the while knowing exactly what I was doing and what I was hoping for. Perhaps here would be the kitty who could become our number two cat. No fuss, no muss and instant pet. I found a small, orange tabby rolling on its back looking most appealing and in no apparent distress. The carport area was fenced in but this little animal could easily walk out from between the fence slats...which it did and trotted along behind me back to and right through the side door. It made a bee line for the water and food dishes and began to chow down and then proceeded to make itself quite comfy in its new surroundings. Our cat made for the furthermost recesses of the house and was not to be found for quite some time. There was no identifying collar on this small cat; obviously it had been out in the elements for a few days because it was so hungry and had telltale grease or oil marks on its back, indicating it had sought refuge under a car somewhere during the very cold nights we'd been having. Upon close inspection, it looked to be in healthy shape and friendly. Oh my, you'd think this cat had lived with us for months.

We fell immediately and thoroughly in love with this little cat and within three days the new arrival and our cat were great buds, chasing each other all over the place in a playful manner. We checked the lost and found section of the newspaper each morning dutifully and even went so far as to check out a copy of the city paper to see if anyone was missing a small tabby with beautiful orange markings with an artistic swirl. Nothing appeared and as each day went by, we felt more secure and surer that kitty was here to stay. "One week," my husband said. "We'll give it one week and then take this little one to the vet to check everything out". Little one drifted into our lives on Friday morning. The following Saturday morning my husband looked once again in the lost and found section and there it was: Lost, small orange tabby, very friendly, and so on. Something else caught my eye that morning too. I went outside to find laminated pictures complete with description and plea for its safe return plastered on everything that would tolerate a nail or thumbtack. No doubt about it--the kitty in the picture was the very one we'd taken care of and loved the entire past week. My husband called the number in the notice and within minutes a grateful, tearful, very relieved young woman and her little boy were at the door to take home their "Toby".

Oh, how our hearts were breaking as we gave back her obviously much loved kitty. The woman had been back east for Thanksgiving and whoever was house sitting (or kitty sitting) for her let the cat out accidentally. I think the minute the young woman returned from her trip, she set forth to putting up posters and notified the newspaper; indeed, must have done so just the night before. We were comforted by the fact that the reunion of cat and owner was a very happy one and we would certainly want our dear cat returned to us if he got out. For the remainder of the day and several days following, our cat wandered from room to room looking for his "pal". He had enjoyed having a companion and I'm sure was wondering what on earth was going on. First we bring a strange cat into the house out of the blue and then, poof! it's gone. This gesture of returning that which was not ours was the springboard from which our Christmas spirit for 2005 was launched.

Before I Move Forward, I Must Look Back a Bit

Our family had a wonderful holiday, wrapping up 2005 and welcoming 2006. Two thousand six. Imagine! The very sound of this year (as well as the past six) sounds so futuristic and unreal to me. It evokes expectations of space travel, space stations, colonization of other planets and beyond. Our current technology is very impressive and way beyond my feeble grasp, in general. Somehow, though, I expected something more. I blame watching too much "Jetson's", "2001, A Space Odyssey", and "Star Trek" et al in my younger years. I don't like the way our current year sounds when I say it. It doesn't roll off the tip of my tongue like all the "teen" years I've known since my birth. It's awkward but I'd better get used to saying 2,000-whatever 'cause that's all I'll be saying and hearing until the end of my days.

That being said, let's get on it with it, shall we? As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, my daughter and son-in-law hosted the Thanksgiving feast this past year and they did a great job of it. It was wonderful to be relieved of the work and related hassles to prepare dinner. My daughter was lucky because the guest list was greatly diminished from past years. This worked out well as it gave them the chance to get their feet wet. They planned the meal the way they wanted and didn't feel duty-bound to produce a replica of what my husband and I have put forth year after year. I admire this and it pleased me; however, I think my husband may have been harboring a worry or two about what would or wouldn't be served. He's quite the traditionalist when it comes to holiday meals. Myself? If I don't have to make it and it's served to me, I'm already loving it. My son-in-law offered two turkey choices to his guests, smoked or fried; the turkey, not the guests! They were both pretty tasty but I think I liked the smoked one better. Frankly, a nice little departure from the traditional roasted bird.

They both worked very hard and put a lot of effort into the holiday dinner. I think they enjoyed having the family at their house as well. I don't know who'll be serving up Thanksgiving dinner next time but it surely is nice to have another couple share the load.

A New Year's Muse

A new year, a time of new beginning--yet another chance to excel at this thing called life. I've never been one to get terribly excited about the start of a new year. I suppose it's as good a time as any to try to put into place and practice new habits, seek new ventures or what have you. I don't make a long list of resolutions that I know I can't possibly keep either. That is nothing more than a well known trap to set one up for immediate failure. I'm very well aware of the improvements I need to make; they're never too far from my thoughts.

One resolution I have made is to try to get back to writing in my online journal. I've been voluntarily absent for some time now. Too many things were happening at once; new job, different hours, difficulties coping with new job, the abrubt misery and overall dissension from so many people over AOL's sneaky little "let's decorate the top of everyone's journal with ads and maybe no one will notice" scheme. Ah yes, that was hugely popular and resulted in a mass exodus of many people whose journals I enjoyed following. There didn't seem to be any spare time to write anything and when I did find some time, it was spent trying to follow links hither and thither to discover where they went. And too, I once again got away from my original idea of writing for myself and fretted too much about whether my subject matter was worthy of reading or not. Who the hell cares? Have I mentioned before that I am my own worst critic? Add to this the fact that I began to think it was wrong and inappropriate to write about pleasant times and things that made me happy. People are dying needlessly in the messy Middle East war, thousands of people have suffered losses beyond my imagination due to hurricanes, floods and assorted assaults from nature which are beyond our control. Anything I might care to write about seemed paltry, superfluous and nothing more than fluff.

Suddenly, I didn't care anymore. It all became too much effort and the very thing which brought me so much pleasure and joy had become a bother, a chore, yet one more thing that had to be dealt with. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that when one feels this way, it's time to stop. And so I did. Now I feel ready to begin anew and continue to create a journal of my thoughts and experiences. This is something I like to do for my sake; if others enjoy reading my bits and pieces, that makes online journaling even more rewarding. I can't single-handedly solve the problems of the world but I can be grateful for the life I've been blessed with and I truly am...blessed.

A Quiet Birthday

The rainy season has descended upon northern California. It's about time, too. November was mild, gorgeous and moisture-free, a repeat performance of beautiful October in these parts. Mid-December brought us temperatures of degrees in the high twenties that reminded me of mornings back in New Jersey. Frosty mornings, crunchy lawns, scraping ice off wind shields and temperatures rising to no higher than 50 degrees during the day felt quite chilly to me. After living in California for over 29 years my internal thermostat has changed radically. Fifty degrees in a New Jersey winter would be cause to drag tee shirts and shorts from summer storage--almost. I've become quite thin-skinned over the years. These days, I freeze to death while shopping at the local Safeway year round. Admittedly, it feels good when the temperature outside hovers around the 100 degrees mark but I digress.

Today is my husband's 55th birthday. This blows me away because he was about a month shy from turning 19 when we began our relationship. We're not doing anything terribly special to celebrate. A birthday two days after Christmas is not the best time and more often than not, my darling dear gets sick just in time for Christmas and his special day. This year is no exception. He's been in far worse shape in previous years, however, so relatively speaking, he's doing okay. It's been a soggy day outside and a cozy, lazy day within. We've been enjoying a nice fire, reading and recovering from the Christmas swirl of parties, merriment and lack of sleep. Miraculously, I got Christmas Day and the following two days off from work. My husband called in sick to his work today and wisely so. I took the Christmas tree apart in the afternoon because it was literally raining needles. For the first time in our lives, it crossed our minds--fleetingly--that an artificial tree might not be such a bad thing after all. Merely thinking such a thought is sacrilege in my house and it was only a fleeting thought but...

I prepared a birthday dinner (with husband's help because he couldn't stay away from the kitchen helping with dinner if his life depended upon it) of Cornish game hens, stuffing, gravy and asparagus. It all turned out beautifully and the truth of the matter is that my husband has evolved into a superior cook and I often think some great, deceased chef has taken over my husband's cooking abilities...yes, he's that good! Back in the days when we were young and carefree and never gave a thought to what kind of food we ingested, I always made a German chocolate cake from scratch for his birthday. Ah, how time alters that which we ate in a blissful, guilt-free state. This year I made him a sugar-free, trans fat free, cholesterol free pumpkin pie. Are we getting old, or what?! It was good though and one does what one must.

It's back to work for the both of us tomorrow morning as we wend our way towards the end of this year. I wonder what the new year will hold for us, our family and beautiful planet Earth in general? I can think of lots of wishes I'd like to see come true. It will be here soon enough and time will tell.

Haven't Played in a Long Time

http://patricksweekender.blogspot.com/

1. Which of the following generally costs you more: a normal trip to your barber/hairstylist, your usual lunch at your favorite restaurant, the most recent amount you paid to fill up your gas tank, or your biggest single contribution to a single charity in 2005?  A normal trip to my hairstylist; cut plus tip

2. What drink -- alcoholic or not -- do you drink entirely too much of?  Wine, particularly red

3. Did you receive a Christmas card from anyone you didn't send one to?  Alas, yes  Did you send them a belated card in return?  Alas, no

4. Take this quiz (if you haven't already!): What is most important in your life?

Love is most important in your life.


A high love concentration indicates that you want love in your life. It is very important to you and something that you strive to attain.

5. Before taking the quiz, which of its categories (career, love, money, health, family or fun) would you have said would be your answer?  Love

6. Do you believe in soulmates?  Yes  Do you think that there are at least one out there for every person, that there is a single "true" soulmate for every person, or that there aren't soulmates for everyone?  I believe there is more than just one soulmate for each of us.  Some people are not blessed with finding even one.  They're out there somewhere but you have to cross paths at the right time.

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