Go elf yourself!

I’m headed to the farm for the next few days to spend QT with The Mc’s fam and will be sans technology.

Wishing you (well, most of you) a merry, merry Christmas.

I think it’s day 6 of my sabbatical, but who can keep track?

I woke early and made The Mc some banana pancakes before jetting off to meet Jill for some DNA work, which did wonders for my mind and the approach I’ve been taking towards life lately. There are things we inherit from the generations before us that surpass eye color and the shape of your face, behavioral habits we have to tame if we’re to become our truest most authentic selves. I’m taking steps towards reprogramming (for lack of a better word), as uncomfortable as it might be. Years of therapy have done their job in helping to purge my feelings about things that have occurred in the past, but didn’t necessarily do much for me in terms of how I change my patterns moving forward. Setting the intention isn’t as simple in practice as it is in print, but as the saying goes: it’s worth fighting for.

Healing was followed by a trip to IKEA which was near vacant as I puttered about looking for white everything in anticipation of painting the bedroom and putting a new spin on it. Picked up two new plants that I may or may not have needed, but they give new purpose to Grover’s old home.

Cookies for lunch. Hell yes, it finally feels like vacation.

Leaving the house this afternoon I was dressed in blue with blue, which anyone who knows me knows is my feeble attempt at a disguise – because I would never wear blue with blue. Alas, my camouflage failed me as I pulled into the carwash to hear “Maigh!” which came from a more pregnant Joanne than the one I last saw. As we caught up in the waiting area two more folks who knew J joined us and it all reminded me how truly small this town is, and how connected we all are.

A quick stop at my office to retrieve a package sent by my seester which gave me another giant mental hug from a few hundred miles away – an Ice Bat, a few good books, some yum-yums and a card that made me laugh in traffic. I came home to another box waiting for me, this one from the frozen world that enveloped me for 18 long years – mugs and caffeine and an embrace BossKat must have known I needed. I’m grounded by love, by my family who reaches out when I need them the most despite the miles that keep us apart.

It’s time to pop in the shower and head off for a much needed and well deserved if-I-do-say-so-myself massage. Hell, I even found it in me to write more than one sentence. It’s a Christmas miracle!

Time to tape: Medium
Time to cut in: Day I Forgot
Time to paint: Afterglow

I even managed to hide the ugly fuse box thingie by taking a beautiful tapestry a friend brought back from China and having it framed. Voila! I’m like David Copperfield.

Bonus: My old friend “A” came by for some coffee early Thursday morning, which gave me an opportunity while cutting in to pose like a doof in the swanky pink toolbelt (birthday present)from my seester. Via the great minds at Be Jane, complete with a DVD and goggles that have Jerk effect on me.

We all have that one monumental birthday that for unknown reasons hits us a bit harder than the others before it.

For some it’s the big 3-0, but for me it was this one. 34. I thought I’d be somewhere different, doing something different, and evolved in a different way by now.

The gray that was charming because of it’s premature arrival now shows my real age. The career I walked away from five years ago is lingering around like an ex who won’t stop calling.

I’m wondering when the cement hardened on my ways (I’m stuck in them), when I started attracting people who now seem to come out of the woodwork just to be mean and where the hell the last 34 years have gone. I’m wondering where the passion went for running and when the mission for a marathon/triathalon was replaced by a fight to pull myself out of bed in the morning.

Bah. Time to paint the living room.

Today, I can feel my age in my shoulder and my tired legs. I can see it in the fine lines on my skin and the grey on my head and the sunspots on my hands.

The evolution continues.

Plans for sleeping in were foiled by a cat, a train, a helicopter and a garbage truck. If all those things weren’t signs in and of themselves to get out and live, then being stacked up like that was a threat from the universe that it was going to kick my ass if I didn’t get up.

The forecast calls for highs in the 70′s and wall to wall blue skies, the top is coming off the Jeep and I’m heading for one of my happy places. Silence and sweat and clean air and crunchy leaves under foot will do my soul good.

The sun may bring another wrinkle, but so will a smile…and I embrace them both.