Saving the World One Monitor at a Time

I recently changed my blog background to plain black. This is not a reflection of my mood, but it is, in fact, an energy saving move. I read somewhere (and I'll find the link soon) that if you change your background to black the monitor will use less energy than if they background is a lighter color. I think that only works for the standard monitors - not flat screens or laptops - but hey, every little bit helps.

525,600 Minutes

As of yesterday my grandpa has been dead for one year. (I tried to think of a less blunt and possibly less harsh way of putting it, but it is what it is.)

"December 24, 9 pm, Easter Standard Time. I can't believe a year went by so fast."

Some days it feels like it's only been moments since I last spoke with my grandpa. Others, it feels as if he's been gone for so long he's a blurry memory in the back of my mind. My grandpa was the first person of any great consequence in my life to die and it's been interesting to see how this loss has affected my family. Some of us have grown closer and others have created a chasm of pain, anger and bitterness so large that one cannot see the people on the other side.

Grandpa knew he was going to die. He had cancer and had consciously decided not not fight it anymore. He was being treated by a hospice and was planning for the end of his life. He did not want a wake or a viewing. He choose to be cremated and to not have his ashes kept. We held a memorial service a week after he died and then he was gone. The mature, logical side of me knows that my grandpa is always with me - in my memories and in my heart. I know that I do not need a physical tangible reminder of his life. But then there is the purely emotional, often times illogical side of me that needs to have that physical connection - something I can hold, touch, see that will remind me - that will keep me from forgetting how important he was to so many people.

My grandpa always was, and will remain, primarily a mystery to me. He was a quiet man who worked hard. I got glimpses into his mind and his heart as we both aged and matured. Those times were few and greatly treasured.

I miss him.

Summer's End

Did you ever notice how when you are a kid you use the school calendar to mark time? How your life was ruled Christmas (they weren't using the PC "winter") vacation, spring break, and summer vacation?

I find it interesting that even has an adult with no children I still, on some level, mark time in the same fashion. When summer begins I feel as if work should be ceasing and all responsibilities should be lifted and when the school supplies start hitting the shelves and the fall clothes appear on the racks I find myself hunkering down and readily picking up new responsibilities and attacking old ones with an unknown fervor.

This summer has gone far to quickly. There was so much more that I wanted to do, to see, to get organized before life got hectic and crazy again. But here I sit at summer's end being thrust back into responsibility, into life. I am eager for what is to come, but I miss summer already and wait expectantly for her return.

My Bandaid Smells Like Tacos

I am:

A daughter
A wife
A granddaughter
A niece
A soon to be aunt
An employee
A manager of an expanding office
A priesthood member
A full time student
A homeowner
A friend
A wanna-be podcaster
A blogger
A crafter
A mover
A shaker and
A smock maker

Pieces of me. Fragments of my mind. I am these things and more. Much much more. I am limitless possibility. I am the fresh start. I am the walrus. I am everything I ever was and everything I can ever be all at the same time. I am a hummingbird, and a gerber daisy, and a pink flamingo. I am me, and you, and everything that has breath, and everything that doesn't.

I am.

Real Life Sucks

I wanna go back on vacation.

You know what's so great about vacations? True vacations are free from bills, from responsiblity, from worry, from having to do the dishes, from work, from stupid annoying people at work, from school work, from feeling inadequate, from feeling spiritually bereft, from fulfilling family obligations. A true vacation leaves you completely free to do and think as you please - to let your mind and body wander wherever they choose to go.

But then you come back. You feel different, you think you're different - but then you find out that you are the exact same person as before and all your shit has been waiting for you, perhaps piling up, for your triumphant return. I miss vacation-me already. She may have been sunburned, but she ate better, and spent more time outside, and got more exercise, and tried new things, and didn't need to check her email ever 2 minutes, didn't need to have cell phone reception at all times, didn't need for every moment of every day to be occupied with . . . . crap.

I left vacation-me at the airport. I picked up my "baggage" and left her there, wearing her cheesehead, riding the luggage carousel.

Back

So, I had this great plan to update you and all the wickedly exciting things that I did every day on my vacation - but it turns out that I didn't have internet access hardly at all (what, no wifi in middle of the woods?) and I was too busy doing wickedly exciting things to stop and write all about it.

So, too bad. Here's my trip in a nutshell:

Lived in the woods, pooped in an outhouse, went to the beach, saw lots of water, ate a lot of organic food, got sunburned, lots of layovers.


The outhouse

This says it all

My feet in water and sand!

The beach!

Check out my sunburn!!