Blowing the Dust Off

Isn't it bizarre how we tend to bend our lives around things that may be important, but aren't a priority?

Jobs are important.
Family is a priority.

Attendance at meetings is important.
Getting our work completed is a priority.

Eating is important.
Nourishing our bodies properly is a priority.

I could go on and on but I think this small little taste is enough for you to figure out where I'm going with this.

Yes, I am fully aware that life is a balancing act but isn't it so sad that the scale more often than not tips in favour of the important things rather than the priorities? Isn't it sad that most of us agree on what should be a priority but we still feel an overwhelming need to put them behind the important items? Isn't it sad that we're quite often pressured into reversing the ranks on such things? I think so.

I have examples that I could share, but there's really no point of reliving it. Afterall, that would just be tipping the scales again. Instead, I'm going to make an effort to be more attentive to the priorities. Afterall, this is a one way trip and regrets are a terrible thing. We so easily get caught up in trying to do it all and be it all that we neglect the very thing that we do "it all" for.

I can compare it to men who buy fancy cars and let them sit in their garages collecting dust. Keeping a car in good shape is important but using it for that which it was intended is a priority. I say blow the dust off and drive that SoB!

Remember the important things but don't let them overshadow the priorities. Here's to blowing the dust off and enjoying our big shiny lives!

Little Miss Marnie Makes the Rules...

...she just doesn't always play by them. That, my dear friends, is precisely the problem.

Most people are afraid of going to a therapist because they might find out there is something wrong with them. I, on the other hand, am afraid to go because I'm quite aware that there is something wrong with me and I'm concerned they might want to fix it.

What?

I know, what sense does that make?

We're all flawed but do we all need to be "fixed". I don't think so. Our flaws (let's not call them that, let's call them quirks) are what make us perfect. Perfectly unique.

I'll use myself as an example. Besides having a flare for senseless rambling, I feel the need to plan. Maybe I should be more precise. I feel the need to plan EVERYTHING. I like lists. I like numbers. I also like spreadsheets. My entire life is planned in spreadsheets. I have one for everything I need - our budget, the family chores, weekly menus, grocery lists, my business, Mr. B's business, my (attempted) weight loss, and anything else I can dissect and arrange. I sometimes even plan things I know I'll never do. Oh, and if I can create a macro to do something spectacular in one of those spreadsheets, that is bliss.

You may have noticed I mentioned the planning part but failed to mention the execution. That might be where I could possibly use a little fixing.

Sniffers thinks it's funny and likes to tease me about my spreadsheets. I like that she does that because it means she knows me well enough to understand that about me (even before my public declaration).

Shannon doesn't even seem to notice because she too is a planner in her own way. We are kindred spirits. (A+D bffs forever)

To be honest, I'm not sure what Mr. B thinks about it. I imagine that he thinks it's terribly cute and it just makes him want to put me in his pocket. Maybe that's true. Maybe he doesn't think it's odd simply because we've been together for half our lives and so to him it's no different than the freckles on my body. (I wonder how many freckles I have) Maybe, and most likely, he just understands and lets me do my thing because he has his own quirks. Thankfully, his are different from mine so there's no competition for who gets to be the clean freak and who gets to be the control freak.

I think you can all guess which one I am.

Anyway, the point of this mindless chatter is that I don't always play by the rules that I make for myself. In the past I would be happy with that because it just meant more planning needed to be done when the first one didn't work out perfectly. This week I figured out that my inability to follow my own plan might actually make me *gulp* a bad planner.

This will not do.

My weight loss and debt reduction (and sanity) depend on this. Life plan set... two days down... so far... so good. Wish me luck! ~because I'm going to need it~

Gentle Reminders

We all need reminders now and then, don't we? I think so. We're only human and are prone to forget now and then. Sometimes we forget to call someone when we said we would. Sometimes we forget to pick up toilet paper. Sometimes we forget to pay the credit card bill but at some point, we will receive a gentle reminder to do all of these things. Maybe the reminder from the credit card company won't be quite so gentle, but it will be a reminder none the less.

Yesterday, while driving around our (maybe) new town I received the most magnificent of reminders.

It was an ordinary sunny day and we were on a very ordinary mission of stalking the new house and my bestie too. Yes, those are indeed ordinary things to do! As we cruised down the busy main drag, we approached a cross walk and I could see an elderly man on the opposite curb waiting to cross. Mr. B had obviously seen him as well because just as my hand came to rest on his arm as a gesture to give the gentleman the right of way, the car came to an easy stop.

I have a soft spot for cute old people. Especially little old men. I'm not exactly sure why or what it is but I have a few ideas. Perhaps it's because I no longer have any grandfathers left in this world? Perhaps. I do know that I love the propriety of a little old man dressed in his Sunday best. This gentleman did not disappoint.

He was thin and maybe about five and a half feet tall. He was wearing perfectly pressed grey trousers, a light blue jacket, a white pork-pie hat, and a twinkle in his eye. As he took his first shaky step from the curb I felt somewhat privileged to just be watching him. I remarked to everyone in the car how cute he was and just as the words left my mouth, he did this little hop and a skip and pumped his arms as if he was pretending to run for just a few steps. His face was stretched with the biggest grin I think I've ever seen.

I could feel tears stinging behind my eyes and my cheek muscles burning from the intensity of my smile. The urge to hug him was almost unbearable. Despite my poor attempt to describe his actions to you, what I witnessed was one of the most simple yet memorable moments I've ever experienced.

It was a gentle reminder that life and the people around us can indeed be beautiful and joyous, that the little unexpected moments can bring someone so much happiness, that human experiences can bring far more joy than things that can be bought and sold, that even after many years on this big ball you can still have a twinkle in your eye and a skip in your step.

It was a gentle reminder that what's truly important in life is to truly live it.

Life is Change

Wow, another two week lag. I'm not so good at this keeping up to date thing, am I? Well, better late than never, I always say. (Chronically late people ALWAYS say that.)

What's new with you? Since you, whoever you are, cannot answer that and chat about it real time in my blog, I'll just go ahead and tell you what's new with me. Sound good? Yahuh.

First things first - I owe my buddy xtcdukes a prize for correctly identifying the quote at the bottom of my last post. Somehow, I knew he'd be the one to get it... and quickly. Here you go my fellow merd.

Now that the important business is taken care of, onto the Sunday morning brain dump.

I've been thinking about change a whole lot lately. I've been thinking about how when we're in a good place in our lives, the last thing we want is for anything to change but inevitably, it will. Likewise, when things are challenging or not quite as they should be, we crave it. Life is change. From the moment we are born until far after we take our last breath, we are changing... physically, emotionally, metaphysically... we are in a constant state of change from the very moment of conception forward.

What brought on these thoughts? Well, my darling Mr. B and I in the middle of possibly selling our home and buying a new (old) one. Yes, we did just move in here less than two years ago and yes, this is the brand new home that we always wanted and never thought we would ever have but when something needs to change, you just seem to know it somehow. We longed for this change and then when it finally happened we found ourselves somewhat disappointed. It's not the life we thought we would have. The house is beautiful but it's just not "us". Does that make sense? Although we love it, it just doesn't feel like home. Could it be that everything is too new and too sterile? Maybe that's it. Whatever it is, for the cost of this tiny little palace, we're not 100% satisfied. Of course, there are a few other reasons as well but I've been complaining far too much as of late so we'll leave it at that.

We found a new home, one that isn't even ours yet but it just feels right. It's an old historic home with high ceilings, big chunky banisters, huge foyers, and so much charm. Oh, and there is an attic that nobody likes but me so I have claimed it as my own. It's fantastic! It's got the whole Edward Scissorhands vibe and I shall be very happy up there. *le sigh* Please cross your fingers, toes, and boobies for me that we can get all of our ducks in a row and make this deal happen.

Did I mention that it's also in a different town? Oh, I mustn't forget that little detail. It's refreshing to think of a fresh start. The town we currently live in is where I was born and raised and where Mr. B has lived for most of his life. Although it has been a great place to raise a family, we're so ready for a change. Just to sweeten the pot a little more, the new house is just around the corner from my bestie. Family, work, and changing lives have put more and more time and space between us the past few years and it sure would be nice to have more opportunities to sit on the porch with green apple martinis... I mean, a cup of tea. ;)

All that being said, selling a house is no easy task and not one that I take lightly. When we sold our last home everything had to be as perfect as it could be before each and every showing, this time will be no different. In light of that I have been finishing up a few tasks that began but were never finished due to my crazy schedule. This weekend has been all about finishing things. I've reseeded the lawn, am straightening cupboards, shelves, and the basement, cleaning up my studio area (cuz daaaaaamn!), and completed the painting in our bedroom.



It's a very bright room during the day so you can't truly see the impact that the dark wall makes but it's lovely. I think the paint chip called the dark colour Urban Grey and the light colour on the other three walls Pavestone but I prefer to call them Django and Diesel (get it?) and so shall it be.

I'm very excited about the new-old house and the possibilities that therein lie for renovations and improvements. Although much will change, I take comfort in the fact that the view from my bed will follow me there.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference."

Religious or not, I think we can all appreciate the power in that simple statement.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have poop to pick up and dead grass from pee spots to reseed. I'm also going to attempt to install a laundry tub. Although I haven't really missed having one, I know when I'm looking at houses I tend to notice if there isn't one so to satisfy the new potential owners, I shall put one in for their convenience. Don't worry people, I own the Mike Holmes "Do It Right" book. It'll allllllllll be just fine.

Waiting for Mr. B's call in response to this post in 5..... 4...... 3.... 2.... Oh there it is.

Getting Back to Basics

I have to be honest and say that for many years, I had become one of those Holiday Zombies. You know the type, those so obsessed with being the ultimate gift giver that they don't care if they're in hawk for it for the next three years. Those who think they know exactly what everyone "needs" and ensures they get it. Ughh...

Well, today is a day to be thankful for misfortunes because we just cannot be one of those Zombies this year. It's financially impossible and you know, I'm loving every minute of it.

The kids will get a humble stack of brightly wrapped boxes and a stocking to open. Mr. B and I have already agreed upon what will be in said boxes, and beyond that this holiday season will be spent as it was intended, enjoying our family. I'm excited about getting back to basics and spending my valuable time focussing on getting something special for the kids rather than getting something for a long list of people who probably can't afford to be buying anything for us either. I'm eager to make some tins of baked goods to use as Christmas offerings to anyone who might decide to ignore my repeated requests to not spend their hard earned money on us.

Mr. B and I always agreed that in retrospect, we were much happier in the days when we were dirt poor. Funny that. Although we're not poor, we're broke and there's a big difference, we're going to live as though we were and it's going to be delightful. Degroovy, even. Regular updates shall follow. Stay tuned.

It's in me to give...

Mr. B and I have a theory (it's a little joke really) that the Canadian Blood Services employees aren't really medical professionals but rather vampires. You see, since I started donating blood this summer they are stalking me like prey. Seriously.

I get at least one letter every month, sometimes two, as well as repeated phone calls to book my next donation even though I already had one booked. I'm not sure if they contact other people so much, or if it's just me. I'm guessing that it's people like me who are blessed with a rare blood type. I often find myself looking over my shoulder when I hear footsteps behind me wondering if that person is packing a needle, tube, and bag.

This week, I received another letter. This time I've been asked to register for the stem cell matching program (formerly known as the bone marrow transplant registry). At first, I tucked the letter and flyer neatly back in the envelope and thought nothing more of it. Then, I awoke one night to find myself all nestled warm in my bed with my slumbering protector on the floor beside me (Django, not Mr. B) and realized that there could very well be someone out there barely asleep in a sterile, bright, uncomfortable hospital room who might be suffering. Someone who might not be snug and cozy, or safe and warm. Someone that maybe, just maybe my freaky blood type and I could help. Someone who might just as easily help me if the roles were reversed.

Is that a crazy, optimistic view of humanity? Maybe, but I'd like to think not. I'd like to think that, God forbid, if I or a member of my family needed help from someone else in the form of a genetic gift, that someone would be there to offer it freely. I believe that when you do things, whether they be bad or good, the same comes back to you. For that reason, I tend to choose good. :)

All that said, I have signed up on the onematch.ca website and I encourage anyone who reads this to at least visit their website and educate yourself. You never know when you'll need the same service in return. Also, if you ever wanted to be a superhero this is your chance. I know that if you donated stem cells and saved my life, you sure would be MY hero.

In fact, I might even be inclined to sew you a cape.

A letter to Mr. B.

Dear Mr. B,

I thought you might be interested to know what happened to me today.

Today I learned to surrender. I know Cory Hart said to "Never Surrender" but as you know, I never much cared for him anyway. It's no secret that I quite often (some might say constantly) feel the need to be in complete control of situations and I discovered, or perhaps realized, that I don't need to always be in control. Sometimes, it's better to surrender.

I know, I know, you're saying, "whatchu talkin' 'bout baby?" Well, I had my massage therapy today and while I was in the chair I realized exactly why your massages are always better, even if they are shorter (much MUCH shorter) and you're not really trained all that well. No offense. ;) I realized that it's because I surrender to you. So, instead of clenching the armrest like the poor fellow was trying to kill me, I let go, relaxed, and actually got my money's worth this time. Mind you, I feel like I've been beaten with a hockey stick now, but I'll be heading to bed soon and the rest will fix that.

After I thought about it some more, I realized that I need to apply that same theory to many other parts of my life. I need to stop worrying about every little detail and just surrender to the moment. Take care of what needs to be taken care of, and enjoy everything else.

Now, all that being said I think I'll go "surrender" to a piece of cherry & chili chocolate.

I miss you. I'm counting the days until you come home.

Lovingly yours,

Mrs. B.