Getting My Ski On

January and February can be a funky time in these parts, especially if there is no snow in which to have fun.  The dead of winter.  Dark, grey days can create dark, grey spirits.  Knowing all too well the heaviness of this time of year in the Northland, I took some days off work so that I can have some FUN and lift the heaviness that has fallen on my soul yet again.

Finally we have a winter that has substantial snow suitable for snowshoeing and skiing.  During these 6 days off, I am embracing Every. Single. Moment.  Perfect weather, and fun friends, has made for some of the best skiing I have had in years.  The other night, I skied under the light of the full moon and had one of the best laughs I have had in a very long time.

Some days have been super ski days with skiing in the morning AND the afternoon.  I feel like I need to get all my skiing in during these 6 days because once I head back to work, its no turning back.  I will be working 12 shifts in 11 days.  Just thinking about that makes me tired.....

BUT for THIS week, I am enjoying quality time with nature. 

Snowshoeing with the dogs is always great fun.  They roll around in the snow collecting snowballs.......

Or becoming one.........

 

 

 

Before too long, skiing and snowshoeing season will be over and we will morph into ucky mucky spring, but I intend to take advantage of this glorious snow that has been absent the past few years.  Lots of good skiing can still be had; its only March!

And just as easily as it sneaks in, the darkness lifts and once again I can think a little straighter, breathe a little lighter, and laugh a little easier.

Catching a Breath

I don't know how parents do it when one of their children is sick.  The worry and sadness I have felt for Valentino these past few days has been horrible.  It started a few months ago when he developed a cough which was very painful to watch, and I'm sure very uncomfortable to experience.  So we went to the vet and he was diagnosed as having "allergy induced asthma".  I declined steroid injections for him, choosing instead to remove what I thought was the cause of his allergies (new litter).  For a while, his coughing improved, but did not cease completely.

These past few weeks, his coughing has become more frequent and more and more worrisome:

So back to the vet we went.  Chest X-rays and blood work revealed that my poor Tino has feline asthma.  We returned home with at prescription for Predisone, but after doing a lot of research online, I decided I did not want to subject him to a medication with several adverse side effects (hair loss, aggression, increase risk for diabetes, etc).  However, I came upon a relatively recent treatment for asthmatic cats.  An inhaler called the AeroKat.

It has a little mask to fit over the cat's face so they breath in the inhaler medicine.  Seems a little silly for some of you, I'm sure, but I'm willing to do whatever is best for my buddy.  The inhaler has less side effects, and goes directly to the source of the problem rather than a pill that travels throughout his system.  So I ordered one of these contraptions, along with some inhalers (a daily flovent and a rescue albuteral).  Its taking a while to arrive so until then, I'm doing some more research and ridding my home of potential allergens.  In doing this, I have found so many good websites dedicated to asthmatic cats and have watched numerous YouTube videos of cats receiving their medication via AeroKat.  It has helped ease my worries, some, to see the ease of its use. 

Once his medicine arrives, both Tino and I can breathe a little easier. 

Thank you, Mr. Stranger

Dragging myself out of bed to head to work each day has been a bit of struggle for me recently.  Thoughts of calling in sick, or just giving up completely and going on welfare, are at the forefront of my mind. 

Not really.

However, we have all had those days where heading into work has been more painful than having your eyeballs poked out with a fork.  On those such days I am ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS reminded of a random fellow whose path crossed mine more than ten years ago. 

A stranger.

Someone whose name I know not.  Someone whose face I know not.  If our paths have crossed since that initial meeting, I am not aware of it.  This stranger with whom I had only one encounter has literally changed my way of thinking.  Forever.  Our conversation resonates in my mind more than any other conversation I have had with anyone, ever.  Lately, I am reminded of this on an almost daily basis.

It happened when I worked as a cashier at Target some 15 or so years ago.  I was grumpy having to be at work instead of enjoying the rare, most perfect Duluth summer day.  Beautiful.  Warm.  Sunny. 

As a cashier, we were encouraged to "schmooze" with our "guests" and they sometimes schmoozed with us.   Usually this small talk revolved around the weather since Duluthians find the weather one of the most interesting of topics.   A gentleman entered my line and bought some small item.  I greeted him in the usual manner.  He mentioned what a nice day it was outside.  This comment was difficult to hear when I would have rather been outside enjoying it than working inside at a cash register.  Our conversation went something like this:

Me:  Hello.

He:  Hi.  What a nice day we are having outside today!

Me:  Yeah, I wish I was out enjoying it rather than working today.

He:  I was just thinking I wish I had a job to go to today.

With that, he just walked away.  His head hanging just a little lower than when he first entered my line.  I watched him walk away, and was forever changed by one simple sentence.

That moment and those words impacted me in ways that he will never know.  I think of him often and wonder what his circumstances were, what he is doing now, and if he enjoys going to his job each day if he has one.

Whenever I get grumpy about having to go to work, I immediately think of him and grow a little more thankful that I GET to go to work. 

More than that, though, I am reminded how our words and actions, even in our simple, everyday interactions can have an impact on one another.  For better and for worse.  How many people are out there thinking about a conversation that I had with them?  Have I changed their lives like this stranger changed mine? 

Thank you, Mr. Stranger, for continual reminders to be thankful for what I have, and for illustrating so perfectly how powerful words can be.

Pushing 40

My doctor ever so kindly welcomed me to the almost 40 club when I complained about my achy hip.  She not so blatantly said, "Welcome to almost 40".  Yup, almost there.  But not quite.

You know you are almost 40 when you celebrate your Birthday playing old lady Bingo at a casino.  And you can't keep up with all the gray haired chain smoking ladies with their ornate bingo bags. 

You know you are almost 40 when you are the only one among your friends who did not get carded entering the casino.  Where you need to be 18!

You know when you are almost 40 when 9:00 is past your bedtime.

You know you are almost 40 when the kids and teenagers at work tell you that you remind them of their mom.  Or grandma.

You know you are almost 40 when just looking at that ice cream sundae winds up on your butt and thighs.

You know you are almost 40 when the conversations with your friends have now evolved into talking about all your various health concerns and body aches and pains.

You know when you are single and almost 40 when your coworkers remind you of your crazy cat lady status as evidenced by "all the Friday nights spent with your cats and all the Christmas cards featuring your cats". 

Key word here, folks:  ALMOST.  I'm not 40 yet, bitches!  Its better to be pushing 40 than pushing daisies.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get my "dobbers" and head to Bingo. 

I Am Woman.....

......Hear me roar......

The headlight on my car burnt out just the other day.  Immediately I give my brother a call and play helpless so that he will go fetch me a new light bulb and change it for me.  Only, he doesn't answer any of his 3 pay-as-you-go cell phones.  In fact, two may be out of commission.  So I did what anyone would do; I told my mom to call him later that night to relay the message that I needed my headlight changed.

Well, she forgot.  And, let's face it, had my brother been beckoned, it could have taken weeks, if not months, to no longer drive a "pa-diddle" (is that a well known term for a car with only one headlight or just a local term?)

With a friend's inspirational quote streaming through my head, I decided to be "smart enough to read a manual, or use google" to get this hopefully simple task accomplished.

Off to Wal-Mart go I.  Not even asking a Wal-Mart dude which light bulb I needed, I used the little electronic thing-a-ma-bob to select the correct bulb, learning, in the process, how much car light bulbs cost......$50 for a set of two of them!  Yikes.

Page 226 of my owner's manual (yes, I actually have it and keep it in my glove box) showed me a three-step process of changing my headlight.  It took all of 10 minutes, and really was easy as 1, 2, 3.  No tools required.  I even got my hands a little dirty.  And the best news of all......They work!

Now, I am at home and a little restless because I really want to go out for a drive in the dark to see how much better my new lights work, and I will appreciate them even more knowing I did it all by myself.

ROAR!

Epic Failure

So, I have been trying to fall asleep for a little bit, and had this brilliant idea to blog.  Blog about what, I don't know.  It started out to be a post about how my life is boring and in need of some "spice".  But then I didn't want to seem like I was complaining because my life really is blessed, and change brings about so much anxiety for me.  Really, I am content with things as they are. 

Then I thought about writing about my summer time adventures with Dairy Queen Blizzards, backyard bonfires, and buddies, but currently lack the inspiration and creativity to make that specific blog post worth reading.

Of course, I could write about rescuing a lame squirrel, followed a month later by saving a young Robin.  But that is pretty much the story.  I saved a squirrel.  I saved a bird. 

Naturally there is always the subject of my cats, but the title of "Crazy Cat Lady" is already beginning to adhere so I have to ease up on my cat love for now. 

So this is my epic failure of a blog post.  And, sadly, that is all I have for the moment.......

My 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon

I have been told I resemble a variety of celebrities:  Meg Ryan.  Nancy Kerrigan.  Leah Remini.  Leona Lewis.  None of them resemble one another, and I really don't see my likeness to any of them.  However, all are pretty favorable to be compared to, so I am not complaining.

The other day at work, a teenager, who happens to have asperbergs, informed me that I look like Jon Bon Jovi....only in female form.  At first I was insulted to be compared to a male 12 years my senior, but then I googled him.

And had to admit, that I could see the resemblance.  We both have piercing blue eyes, kinda shaggy dishwater color hair, and an angular face.  Mine minus the facial five o'clock shadow (I hope!).   In fact, I can see myself in Jon Bon Jovi more than I can see myself in Meg, Nancy, Leona, or Leah.

(And, a strange aside here, if I ever was blessed enough to have a baby girl, her name would most likely be "Jovie".)

Now how does this all connect to Kevin Bacon, you may ask.  Bear with me.  It has been said that all people can be traced back to Kevin Bacon within 6 degrees, and I found my 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon......kinda.

1.  I have always thought my brother, back before he got into drugs, resembled Kevin Bacon.
2.  I have always mixed up Kevin Bacon and Jon Bon Jovi and can't really tell them apart.
3.  The teenager told me I looked like Jon Bon Jovi.  Since I get him mixed up with Kevin Bacon, I must also look like Kevin Bacon
4.  Since I obviously resemble my brother, who happens to resemble Kevin, it stands to reason that, I too, must resemble Kevin on some level.
5.  The teenager later said that I also looked like Kevin Bacon

Blue eyes, shaggy dishwater hair, angular face.  

So, there you have, my "connection" with Kevin Bacon in only 5 degrees.

It could always be worse, though, a patient once told a staff member that she (the staff member) reminded that patient of Sponge-Bob.  The patient was blind.  Like, for real, she was blind.